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Harry Potter: What Harry & Hermione Did Last Summer
by Demetrius (address withheld)

***

Summer holidays at Hogwarts. Harry's plans to spend 
them at Ron's are thwarted so Hermione surprises him 
with a plan of her own, and the surprises continue. 
(mf-teen, youths, 1st, mast, oral, rom, fantasy, 
parody)

***

"Harry, what's up with you?"

Ron was sounding more than a little exasperated. Harry 
looked up, startled by Ron's sudden interruption of his 
musing.

"Oh, sorry, Ron," he said. "Did you say something?"

"Only three times," Ron grouched. 

"I guess I was miles away," Harry murmured.

"I'll say," Ron said. "What were you thinking about?"

"Oh, nothing in particular. Mainly about spells and 
charms."

"Crikey, I'd have thought you'd have had enough of 
those for one day. Anyway, I'm going down to watch the 
Hufflepuff Quidditch practice. They've got a new chaser 
and she's pretty cute. Do you want to come?"

Harry grinned, quite sure that Ron was secretly hoping 
he'd say no.

"No, I don't think so, Ron. I'm going to stay here and 
do a little cramming. I just know that Snape will set a 
killer exam for the end of term and I'm not going to 
give him any reason to fail me."

"Good for you, Harry!" said Ron. "Okay, I'll see you 
later."

Ron hurried out of the common room. Harry slumped back 
in his chair and returned to his musing. The truth was 
that he needed some time to himself to think. Life at 
Hogwart's had been unbelievably hectic and full of new 
experiences, many of them terrifying, and the fact that 
he had survived to this point had been a matter of 
considerable luck and skill, with absolutely no 
guarantee that his problems were now over. The fact 
that he had enjoyed recognition and praise from 
Dumbledore and senior members of staff, together with 
his reputation of being the only soul known to have 
withstood an attack from the evil Voldemort, had served 
mainly to isolate him from everyone except Hermione, 
Ron and the rest of the Weasley's... and, of course, 
his godfather, Sirius. 

He'd not really ever had an opportunity to live as 
other fifteen year-olds did. In most respects, he 
didn't really mind that too much but he was now facing 
a situation for which nobody had prepared him and which 
he felt unable to discuss with anyone around him... 
even Ron who was, it now seemed, being affected by the 
same influences. He would have talked to Sirius, 
perhaps, but only if had he been around because Harry's 
problem was one that needed a face-to-face chat, not an 
exchange of owls.

Simply put, Harry's hormones were raging. Until now, he 
had been too preoccupied with events to be more than 
peripherally aware that something new and momentous was 
happening to him but, now that things had settled down 
once more after his most recent battle against the 
forces of evil, he had a little spare time on his 
hands. One of the by-products of this was that he had 
become very aware of the female of the species. His 
attraction to Cho had faded with the death of Cedric 
Diggory, and now, specifically, he had become very 
aware of Hermione. 

It had come upon him with the suddenness of a 
thunderclap. For sure, he'd thought that she had looked 
lovely at the Triwizards' Ball but he was fixated on 
Cho at the time. This powerful new attraction had hit 
him quite unexpectedly one evening in the common room. 
One minute, she was just good old Hermione and then Ron 
had cracked a joke and she threw back her head to 
laugh. 

A bemused Harry had been instantly captivated by the 
twinkle in her hazel eyes, the curve of her little snub 
nose, the sparkle of her white, even teeth, the smooth 
line of her neck and the gloss of her hair. In that 
moment, he felt his heart thump and his stomach lurch. 
He saw her as he had never seen her before and 
realised, in a flash, that "good old Hermione" had 
suddenly become a very beautiful and extremely 
appealing young woman.

In some ways, he understood that his sudden attraction 
to Hermione was not altogether surprising. From the 
moment he had entered Hogwarts for that first momentous 
year, she had been a part of his life, studying with 
him and being deeply involved, together with Ron of 
course, in all his adventures. But he'd always viewed 
her as simply a trusted friend on whom he could always 
rely and who was a walking encyclopaedia on many arcane 
subjects that had served their needs more than once. 
The fact that she was also a girl had been purely 
incidental.

Now, however, he was keenly aware of all the changes 
that the passage of time had wrought with her. When 
they first met on the Hogwarts Express, he neither 
knew, nor would he have cared that, like English 
schoolgirls everywhere, Hermione had shortened her 
regulation grey skirt so that it ended at the knee and 
not the required three inches below but, back then, her 
legs were thin and her knees were knobbly. 

Now, however, she had grown several inches taller and 
the regular exercise in which all students participated 
had shaped her legs to a most eye-catching symmetry, 
often drawing Harry's attention as she walked up a 
staircase ahead of him. It was not helped by the fact 
that her "regulation" skirt now ended some six inches 
above the knee, offering him the occasional delicious 
glimpse of an inner thigh as she swished her way up to 
the upper floors.

Nor, on that first meeting aboard the Hogwarts Express, 
would it ever have crossed Harry's mind to notice that 
Hermione was so flat that you could iron a shirt on her 
chest. Now, though, she had developed the most enticing 
curves in that area and her white school blouses 
clearly showed the deeper white outline of a bra being 
worn underneath them. She was moderately endowed but 
size was not the point. Hermione had breasts and Harry 
feared that he was becoming obsessed with the desire to 
see them... to see her... all of her... naked. He knew 
that it was an unworthy thought and he did his best to 
suppress it but it simply would not stay suppressed. It 
even invaded his dreams with the inevitable sticky 
consequences that filled him with guilt the first time 
it happened, despite the huge surge of pleasure that it 
also gave him.

In desperation, he pored through some of the more 
esoteric tomes in the school library but while he could 
find a charm for changing a mushroom into an umbrella 
or a spell for causing meteorological havoc in Nether 
Wallop, nothing seemed to have been set down for 
helping young wizards offset the natural carnal 
cravings of adolescent boys. Having been a loner for so 
long, he couldn't know that what he was experiencing 
was easily explained. He was a young, healthy male. 
Moreover, Hermione was the one young woman with whom 
constant contact had, until now, made him feel totally 
comfortable. 

Nonetheless, he was baffled that he had not noticed 
until a couple of months ago how attractive she had 
become. Had he had a more normal Muggle upbringing, he 
would have known that attraction to the opposite sex 
amongst young adolescents had been going on since the 
dawn of humankind and that it exercises a drive that is 
as powerful as magic itself. Sadly, this was - as yet - 
a mystery to him.

On a rational level, and with so much expected of him, 
he was anxious to behave in an honourable fashion. Even 
so, there had been a moment when he'd considered using 
the Cloak of Invisibility to sneak into the girls' dorm 
and shower area to fulfil his persistent fantasy. He 
finally rejected the idea, in part because he knew it 
would be wrong but also because he reasoned that the 
logistics of slipping into the girls' dorm might prove 
more difficult than appeared at first glance for it 
occurred to him that many horny young male students had 
attended Hogwarts before him and he would likely not be 
the first of them to attempt to sneak into the girls' 
quarters. If he knew anything about Dumbledore, there 
would almost certainly be some powerful magic at work 
to make sure that such a thing didn't happen... even 
with a Cloak of Invisibility hiding the would-be young 
Casanova from the eyes of others.

So it was that Harry abandoned the idea and resigned 
himself to enjoying such occasional fleeting glimpses 
of Hermione's burgeoning charms as the fates allowed. 
It was in this frustrated state of mind that he went 
down to join Ron and Hermione for breakfast the 
following morning. Hermione was in animated 
conversation with Ron about the unexpected properties 
of the Muckleberry plant as a component of love 
potions. Ron had been listening with only half an ear, 
his mind still savouring the unexpected properties of 
Melanie Ribblesdale, the new Hufflepuff Chaser, but the 
words "love potion" did cause him to pay slightly 
closer attention to what Hermione was saying. They 
looked up as Harry joined them and, after a few 
moments, the talk turned to the upcoming end-of-term 
exams.

Just as they were finishing their orange juice, there 
was the sound of whirring wings from the far end of the 
dining hall announcing the arrival of that day's post. 
Ron noted, with rising alarm, that the family owl was 
heading straight for him. His mind raced to review what 
errors of omission or commission he might be guilty of 
that might cause his mother to send him another Howler. 
He had no wish to be embarrassed again in front of the 
entire school. As the envelope dropped into his 
outstretched hand, he was relieved to see that it was a 
regular letter. He opened it and his eyes sped over the 
contents. After the first couple of sentences, he 
smiled and let out a cheer but, as he read on, his face 
dropped and the smile died.

"What is it, Ron," Harry asked.

"It's from Mum. It's about the summer holidays. She's 
just heard from my Uncle Bruce and Aunt Sheila that 
they, and their four kids, are coming for a visit... 
all the way from Australia... for six weeks!"

"Wow... fantastic," said Harry.

"Well, yes... and no," said Ron unhappily.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"With six extra people in the house, we'll be crammed 
to the gills. There won't be room for Harry to stay the 
whole summer this year as we'd planned."

Harry tried not to let his deep disappointment show. He 
had been looking forward to staying with the Weasleys 
and he had absolutely no intention of ever returning to 
the hateful atmosphere of his former "family" home with 
the Dursley's at number four, Privet Drive if he could 
possibly avoid it. This news meant that his only 
alternative was to remain at Hogwarts for the first six 
weeks of the school holidays while everyone else was 
off enjoying themselves. Maybe after their visiting 
relatives went back to Australia he could spend the 
last week with Ron's family, as long as Mrs. Weasley 
was not too tired to have another guest so quickly. He 
put on a brave face.

"Not to worry, Ron," he said. "I'll stay on here. It 
will give me some time to explore the library and catch 
up on some of the reading I've been meaning to do for 
ages and it will be much better than going back to the 
Dursleys."

"I feel really rotten about this, Harry," Ron moaned. 
"You will come and stay as soon as they leave, though, 
won't you?"

"I'd like that," Harry smiled.

Hermione said nothing. She knew Harry well enough to 
know that this must have come as a hard blow and that 
he was certainly feeling a lot more upset than he was 
allowing himself to show. The three friends fell silent 
while they finished their meal as there was nothing 
much anyone could say to relieve the gloom that had 
descended with Ron's announcement. As she went back to 
her room, Hermione was deep in thought and by the time 
she got there, she had made a decision.

The next two days raced past. The first one was spent 
revising and the second in taking the first of the end-
of-term exams. As Harry had predicted, the Potions 
paper, set by Professor Snape, was monstrously 
difficult but, thanks to his cramming, Harry felt that 
he might scrape a passing grade. Hermione, of course, 
breezed through it. At least the unrelenting round of 
revision and test papers kept Harry from fretting about 
the holidays. 

Finally, the exams were all finished and it was the day 
before the end of term. The three friends were sitting 
comparing notes of the previous days Transfiguration 
exam when one of the first year students rushed up to 
Hermione to tell her that a small trunk had been 
delivered for her. At this news, Hermione smiled 
broadly.

"I'll be right back," she called out over her shoulder 
as she hurried off towards the main entrance.

"What do you reckon that's all about?" said Ron.

"I've no idea," said Harry. "Maybe it's a new trunk for 
her to send stuff home for the summer."

When she returned a short while later, Hermione was 
grinning.

"What are you so happy about, Hermione?" Ron demanded.

"It's a surprise for Harry."

Harry looked puzzled.

"A surprise for me?" he said. "What have you been up to 
now?"

"Well," Hermione replied, "I hope that you're not going 
to be mad at me, but I was talking with Hagrid the 
other day and he was saying that he'd been invited to 
visit a cousin of his in some isolated part of Wales. 
Apparently this cousin has a small farm, way off the 
beaten track, where he raises Gryphons. You know how 
nutty Hagrid is about magical animals, and he really 
wants to go, but it would mean that there would be 
nobody here to look after Fang and all the other 
animals. He told me all this on the morning Ron got his 
owl so he hadn't heard that Harry's staying here for 
the start of the hols."

She turned to smile at Harry.

"I said that you'd probably be happy to take care of 
the animals for him."

"Of course I would," Harry said at once.

"Yes," Hermione grinned, "...well, he thought about it 
and said that I was probably right but that, if he 
went, he would need to be gone for about ten days and 
that feeding and mucking out was too big job for one 
person... even for Harry Potter. So I asked him 'What 
if I were here to help him?' 'But you won't be,' he 
said. 'I could be,' I told him. Well, you know Hagrid. 
He pulled on his beard and pondered the idea for simply 
ages, before admitting that the two of us together 
could probably manage things, but it still took me 
another ten minutes to convince him to let us do it. 
Finally he agreed, so I asked Professor McGonagall if 
it would be all right for me to stay here to help you 
look after the animals until Hagrid got back... and she 
said yes, as long as my parents approved. Of course, 
Mum and Dad were fine with the idea. 

"That's what the trunk was all about. Mum sent me some 
of my summer clothes so I won't have to wear my beastly 
uniform all the time."

She stopped talking suddenly and cast an anxious glance 
at Harry,

"You are pleased, aren't you, Harry. I mean, it'll be a 
lot of hard work but we'll still have lots of time for 
other things as well... maybe explore some of the local 
area, do research... that sort of thing."

Harry was more than pleased, He was thunderstruck. 

"Of course I'm pleased," he grinned, "but weren't you 
going away with your parents?"

"I still am... but not right away. Muggle companies are 
pretty stingy with their time off. Dad only gets two 
weeks holiday in the summer, which means our trip won't 
be for another three weeks yet. Hagrid should be back 
from Wales before then so I can still be home in time 
to go with them."

Ron gave Harry a broad, knowing wink.

"That's brilliant, Harry," he said. "Just the two of 
you. Very cosy!"

He was echoing Harry's own racing thoughts exactly. The 
idea of having Hermione to himself for a time might 
prove to be a curse or a blessing but, either way, it 
sure beat being by himself.

But just maybe this was a sign that she was interested 
in him too? As if reading his mind, Hermione poured 
cold water on that idea.

"My main concern, of course, is to give poor Hagrid a 
break, but it did seem that I might be able to kill two 
birds with one stone."

"Of course," said Harry at once. "It was a very kind 
thought, Hermione"

"Yes," said a somewhat chagrined Ron. "A very kind 
thought."

"Well that's all right then," Hermione grinned. "I'll 
go and unpack. See you later."

She bounced off, leaving Harry and Ron staring after 
her.

The next day saw all the departing pupils, still 
wearing their school uniforms, bidding cheerful and 
tearful goodbyes to each other. There was much hugging 
between close friends, especially amongst the 
graduating students who were busily exchanging 
addresses and promises to keep in touch. The smaller 
kids were stuffing their pockets with treats to eat on 
the train and there was constant noise and bustle in 
the Entrance Hall as successive waves of students, 
under the watchful eye of the House Captains, hurried 
to catch the boats and coaches that would ferry them to 
the railway station. Together, Hermione and Harry 
watched the frantic activity from the relative calm of 
the first floor landing. About mid-morning, Ron, Ginny 
and the Weasley twins appeared in the hallway, all 
ready to leave together. Hermione and Harry hurried 
down to say goodbye to them.

"Sorry about all this, Harry," Ron said.

"Yes," said Ginny. "It won't be the same at home 
without you."

"Thanks, Ginny," Harry smiled "but you've got all your 
cousins to meet and get to know... and, anyway, I'll 
see you all in about six weeks."

"You'd better," Ron replied. "Mum'll be bloody upset if 
you don't come."

"Tell her I'll be there, and thank her for the 
invitation, especially when she'll have been so busy," 
Harry said. "Now go, or you'll miss the train. Don't 
worry about us. We'll be fine... and have a great 
summer with your relatives."

"Yes, have fun all of you," Hermione said.

"You too," they chorused. 

On their way to the doors, the twins looked back.

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do!" they shouted.

"That gives us a lot of latitude," Harry called back.

With a gust of laughter, the Weasleys departed An hour 
later, the last students and most of the staff had left 
and an uncommon silence settled on the school.

Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, who were 
remaining at Hogwarts to attend to administrative work, 
prepare for the new intake next term and to be 
responsible for their two young charges, had agreed 
that it made more sense for Hermione and Harry to eat 
in the Gryffindor Common Room than in the main dining 
hall. Together, Harry and Hermione headed up the 
staircase to greet the fat lady in the portrait 
guarding the door.

"Password?" she demanded.

"Amicus Aeturnum" Harry replied.

"Thank you, Harry," said the fat lady and the portrait 
swung open.

"Do you think we will be..." Hermione asked as they 
passed into the common room. "...friends for ever I 
mean?"

"I don't see why not," Harry smiled. "I'd never have 
survived Hogwarts this far without you and Ron so, yes, 
I reckon we'll all be friends for ever."

Hermione turned away quickly and hurried to one of the 
over-stuffed and very comfortable armchairs.

"I wonder what's for lunch?" she said. "I'm starving!"

Harry was puzzled by the sudden change of topic but 
dismissed it. He was hungry too. He sat opposite her, 
once more aware that Hermione's grey skirt was 
remarkably short and secretly wondering what it might 
reveal but, to his disappointment, she kept her knees 
decorously close together. 

"Pabulum," she called, and immediately food 
materialised on the low table in front of them. There 
was a delicious soup of fresh vegetables and savoury 
herbs, chicken in a piquant sauce baked into a flaky 
pastry shell accompanied by Carrots Marguerite and 
Duchesse Potatoes. Dessert was treacle tart and 
custard, one of Harry's favourites. 

Relaxing happily after the meal, Harry tried hard not 
to stare at Hermione. It was a unique situation for him 
to be alone with an attractive girl in a virtually 
deserted building and he found himself suddenly shy, 
something he had never been before with Hermione. He 
knew that he wanted to move their relationship in a new 
direction but was at a loss as to how to do it. He sat 
pondering what to say next.

Hermione solved his dilemma.

"Hagrid wants us to go over to his cottage this 
afternoon. He's going to leave us a mass of written 
notes on the animals but he wants to walk us through 
the feeding and cleaning routines before he leaves."

"Okay," said Harry. "That sounds like a brilliant idea. 
I'd much rather see for myself than try to figure out 
what Hagrid means from his notes."

"Yes, well if we're going to be traipsing round the 
animal pens, and with school now officially over for 
the year, I'm going to change out of this wretched 
uniform. You should, too."

"I don't have any other clothes that still fit me," 
said Harry.

Hermione thought for a moment.

"Hmm, maybe Professor Dumbledore will have an idea." 

"I don't like to trouble him for something so trivial,"

"Nonsense. After what you've been through, he'll be 
only too delighted to help."

With that, she marched out to find Dumbledore, followed 
by a still-protesting Harry.

Dumbledore, when located, was indeed happy to help and 
assured Harry that, by the time he got back to his 
room, he would find his wardrobe fully stocked.

"Including Wellington boots?" asked Hermione. "We're 
going to be mucking out the animals while Hagrid's 
gone."

"Including Wellington boots," Dumbledore smiled.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione and Harry met up in the 
Entrance Hall. She was now dressed in a pair of faded 
jeans tucked into black "wellies". She also wore a 
chequered, long-sleeved shirt under an old, navy-blue, 
sleeveless pullover. But the thing that stunned Harry 
was the cheeky, black, peaked cheese-cutter hat that 
she wore jauntily over her hair which she had twisted 
into a coil on the back of her head. She looked at the 
same time, dressed for work and an extremely 
fashionable young woman. Harry wasn't sure but he 
thought that she might even be wearing a touch of 
makeup but, if she was, it was extremely subtle and an 
absolute first.

"Holy Smokes, Hermione," he gasped. "You look great."

"What, in these old things?" she smiled. "Come on. 
Hagrid's waiting."

The went out into the fresh air. The sun was partially 
hidden behind a light covering of fluffy white clouds 
but it was still warm and they walked silently down the 
slope towards Hagrid's cottage. Suddenly Hermione 
stopped.

"What is...?" Harry started to say but Hermione held up 
her hand.

"Shh... listen," she said.

They stood side by side and listened.

"I don't hear anything," said Harry.

"Exactly!" Hermione nodded. "I've never been at 
Hogwarts during the day when there hasn't been the 
sound of kids, maybe playing Quidditch or telling 
jokes, taking classes... stuff like that. But now... 
you can hear only the sounds of nature. It's so 
peaceful."

She stood stock still for a moment and then marched off 
again.

"Come on," she called. "Hagrid will be wondering where 
we've got to."

Harry hurried to catch up with her, more puzzled than 
ever. Hermione, who seldom stopped talking when she 
didn't have her head in a book, was now praising the 
virtues of silence. What other surprises did she have 
in store for him over the next couple of weeks?

Hagrid was waiting for them at the door of his cottage, 
a big grin on his face. Fang sat beside him, his great 
tongue lolling from his mouth, panting slightly in the 
heat.

"There you are," Hagrid greeted them. "Thanks for 
taking this on, you two. It means a lot to me."

"No problem, Hagrid," Harry said. "It'll give us 
something to do and we can take Fang for lots of 
walks."

"He'll like that," Hagrid laughed. "He'll wag his tail 
off! Come on then. I'll show you the routine."


He led the way round to the back of the cottage with 
Hermione, Harry and Fang trailing behind him. The next 
couple of hours flew by. Even though they had learned a 
lot in Hagrid's "Care of Magical Animals" classes, 
there was a lot more that they hadn't yet encountered. 
At last, with all the creatures fed and watered, they 
went into the cottage where the kettle was boiling 
merrily on the hob. Over tea and rather chewy crumpets, 
Hagrid passed over a sheaf of notes to Hermione, and 
then proceeded to run through the contents of all of 
them. They covered every possible contingency and 
emergency that his vivid imagination could conjure up. 
Finally he ran out of even the most unlikely 
eventualities and sat back in his chair.

"Now, Harry," he said earnestly, "if anything 
unforeseen happens, send me an owl at once. I'll be at 
my cousin's place. I've written down the address 
because heaven alone knows how you pronounce it."

He handed Harry a slip of paper. On it was written in 
Hagrid's unmistakeable scrawl:

Rubeus Hagrid
Care of Owen Dafydd Jones
Gryphon Farm
Dyrysgol
Wales

Harry studied the paper carefully and put it safely in 
his pocket.

"Don't you worry, Hagrid," he assured the gentle giant. 
"Nothing is going to happen and there can't be anything 
left that you haven't foreseen. So go and have a good 
holiday. We'll take good care of things while your 
away."

"I'm sure you will, Harry," Hagrid murmured but didn't 
sound entirely convinced.

"Have you decided when you are leaving?" Hermione asked 
him.

"Early tomorrow morning, if that's all right with you 
two," he replied.

"Of course it's alright," Harry said. "We'll come by 
every morning and evening and, in a real emergency, 
we'll send an owl and talk with Professor Dumbledore."

"Aye, he'll know what to do right enough. Just so long 
as you let me know too."

"We will. We will," said Harry insistently.
Hagrid grinned.

"Right then. I'll do some packing."

They left him whistling to himself and throwing spare 
clothes into a large draw-string bag.

The next day dawned bright and sunny, with the promise 
that it would get very warm later. Harry and Hermione, 
dressed in their work clothes, got to Hagrid's about 
nine o'clock but he had already left. There were 
several more notes waiting for them in the cottage, 
filled with more afterthoughts but containing nothing 
that they hadn't covered already... more than once. By 
11.15, the two of them had finished the morning's 
chores and were wandering back towards the school.

"Fancy exploring some of the local area?" Harry asked 
Hermione.

"Okay," said Hermione. "You know, we've never followed 
the path that goes around the edge of the Forbidden 
Forest. What do you say that we head that way?"

"Great idea," said Harry. "We could either leave right 
after lunch of maybe take a picnic with us."

"A picnic," Hermione said immediately. "We'll need to 
be back around four o'clock so the earlier we start, 
the more we can explore. Just give me time to shower 
and change and we can leave."

"Great. I need a shower too. I'll meet you by the front 
door around 11.45. Oh, and I'll take care of the 
picnic. Maybe bring a small backpack if you have one."

Harry hurried through his shower, pulled on a pair of 
corduroy pants and a light short-sleeved shirt, uttered 
the words "Pabulum Portabilis', scooped the resultant 
food into his backpack and hurried down to the Entrance 
Hall. It was nearly ten minutes before Hermione arrived 
but when she did, Harry was again stunned by the 
transformation. She wore a pair of sturdy walking 
boots, ankle socks, blue-jean shorts, cut VERY short, 
and a short yellow T-shirt. He stared at her never-
before-seen, long, luscious legs and at the way her top 
clung to her slender figure. It also left a band of 
bare flesh at her middle and, for the first time, Harry 
saw that she had a slender waist which accentuated her 
curves even more. School blouses tended to bag out 
where they tucked into the skirt, disguising the 
waistline. 

This time, he was almost certain that she was wearing 
makeup that accentuated her eyes and gave a light blush 
to her cheeks. Her lips, too, hinted at an application 
of soft pink lipstick. He had never seen her look more 
attractive but he bit back the automatic reaction to 
tell her so. She had dismissed his comment last time 
but his face must have told her what he was thinking. 
She smiled, but said nothing.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Er... yes." He stammered.

"Good. Let's go."

She stuck her thumbs under the straps of her backpack, 
squared her shoulders – which had the effect of pushing 
her breasts out – and strode off through the door 
followed by a totally captivated Harry.

They walked for about an hour, skirting the forest and 
then struck off along a footpath that led down to a 
trickling stream. They followed the bank alongside the 
water and, after about a quarter of a mile, the river 
broadened for a short distance to form a wide pool, 
then flowed on again between narrowing banks until it 
was back to a stream again. There was a little stand of 
shade trees beside the pool and a stretch of grass 
which made a perfect place for a picnic. 

The two of them stopped, dropped their backpacks to the 
ground and sat down to rest for a moment. A couple of 
moorhens paddled nervously to the opposite side of the 
water but, seeing that the intruders appeared to be 
harmless, they soon paddled back out and started diving 
for food again.

Hermione stretched out and rested her hands on the 
ground behind her as Harry began to unpack the food and 
drink.

"Beautiful," she said dreamily.

"Yes," Harry agreed, drinking in her long, bare legs. 
"Beautiful indeed."

They didn't talk a lot as they ate. Once they had 
finished, Hermione lay back on the grass, tucked her 
back-pack under her head, placed hands by her sides, 
and closed her eyes. Harry put the plates back in his 
pack and then lay on his side facing her, elbow on the 
ground and his head resting in his hand. He took in the 
light sheen of perspiration on her brow, watched the 
slow rise and fall of her breasts and admired the 
flatness of her stomach. He also noted that her legs 
were already starting to tan. Time seemed to stand 
still and he felt that he could have stayed there all 
afternoon just looking at her. After about five 
minutes, however, her eyes snapped open. She saw him 
gazing at her and gave him a slight smile.

"Can't lie here all afternoon," she said, jumping to 
her feet. "We must come back here again though. It a 
great place to get a little privacy."

She jumped up, looked around her and saw that one of 
the trees had a large branch overhanging the bank and 
the pond. It was about eighteen inches above her head. 
She ran a couple of paces forward, jumped, grabbed on 
to the branch and hung on. As she did so, her T-shirt 
rode some way up her rib cage, exposing an even wider 
band of bare skin than ran from about three inches 
below her navel to some four inches above it.

Harry was in torment. He had just got used to the idea 
that Hermione had great legs and here she was 
innocently displaying more of her nubile body than he 
had ever seen before. He was so relieved that he was 
wearing tight underwear and cords because he had no 
control over the reaction he had to being faced with 
this level of temptation. He felt an overwhelming 
desire to run forward, grab her by the hips and blow 
raspberries into her belly-button. He forced the idea 
back and, instead, made as though he was going to 
tickle her.

"Harry Potter, you beast... don't you dare," she 
shrieked, dropping back to the ground

He grinned, picked up his backpack and slipped it on.

"Another half-an-hour along here and then we should be 
heading back," he said.

Hermione nodded and picked up her own pack. She was 
looking thoughtfully at Harry again.

The rest of the day passed without incident. The 
following morning started with the same routine... 
walking Fang, feeding the animals and cleaning out 
their pens and stalls. As they were finishing washing 
down the concrete floor of the barn, Hermione slipped 
on the wet floor and sat heavily on her butt. She let 
out a loud "Oof!" and Harry turned to see what had 
happened.

"Are you okay?" he asked anxiously as he hurried 
towards her.

"Apart from a large damp patch on my seat, only my 
dignity is hurt," she said.

She stuck out her arm.

"Help me up, will you please, Harry."

Harry reached down and took her hand, pulling her up to 
her feet again. As soon as she was standing he let her 
hand go again. 

Under different circumstances, it would have been an 
insignificant incident but not for Harry and certainly 
not now. There comes a moment in the life of any young 
heterosexual male when he forms a serious crush on a 
girl for the first time. In the beginning, it is 
usually enough for him to admire her from a distance 
but that is quickly supplanted by the pressing need to 
be near her and talk with her. 

If, at that point, the attraction persists, there is an 
agonizing decision to be made. Do you risk any form of 
physical contact? If she is feeling the same thing that 
you are, the result can be bliss. If, however, she sees 
you as nothing more than a friend, the result will 
likely be disaster. She will never feel comfortable 
around you again, knowing you want something from her 
that she is not willing or not able to give.

Harry had always been around Hermione at Hogwarts, so 
that wasn't an issue but now he had reached the point 
where he craved some simple physical contact. In his 
mind's eye, he saw Hermione and himself walking hand in 
hand, but so much would then ride on her reaction if he 
decided to reach out and take her hand in his that he 
had been too nervous to try it. She'd given him no 
reason to think that such a move would be welcome if it 
implied romantic overtones. 

Indeed, there was a better than average chance that she 
would reject any amorous advance and, worse, it could 
sour their friendship for ever. Harry knew that he and 
Hermione were destined to spend several more years 
together before they graduated and he could not bear 
the thought of alienating one of his two best friends 
by acting inappropriately. All these thought went 
racing through his mind until he suddenly realised that 
Hermione had said something and he'd missed it. His 
mind snapped back to the present.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, what did you say?"

"I asked you if you would please toss down a couple 
more bales of hay from the loft.'

"Oh, sure," Harry said.

He went to the end of the barn and climbed up the 
ladder to the loft. Dozens of hay bales were neatly 
stacked along one wall, except where some of them had 
split open and strewn their contents, covering the 
floor with a thick layer of sweet-smelling straw. Harry 
grabbed a pitchfork from beside the open door at the 
far end of the loft, spiked a couple of the bales and 
tossed them down to the floor below where Hermione 
pushed them to a spot beside the feed bins. Chores 
finished, they headed back to the school.

"What would you like to do later?" Harry asked.

"Why don't you pick this time," Hermione replied.

"Okay, how about taking the path that runs along the 
hills beside the lake? We should be able to find a way 
down to the water somewhere."

"That's a great idea. I'll fix the picnic this time and 
see you in the Hall."

Harry had decided to wear khaki shorts and a white T-
shirt. Hermione's shorts were dark blue and she had on 
a dark blue, short-sleeved shirt. They set out under 
sunny, cloudless skies. The lake was huge and looked 
more like an inland sea from this point of view. The 
hilltop path was breezy and there were small whitecaps 
on the black water far below them. Small waves broke 
and retreated on the shore. Birds were wheeling and 
diving overhead, uttering raucous cries but, otherwise, 
there was not a living thing in sight.

They had been walking for almost an hour when Hermione 
pointed ahead to where the hilltop dipped much lower. 

"Look Harry, there's a cove down there and isn't that a 
pathway going down to the water?"

Harry sighted along her pointing finger.

"You're right," he laughed. "Gosh, you've got sharp 
eyes."

They hurried on and ten minutes later found themselves 
at the start of the steeply descending side track that 
led off the main path.

"Take it easy going down," Harry warned. "I'll lead the 
way and you follow."

Slowly, they made their way down the uneven path, 
finally finding themselves at the edge of a broad, 
grassy meadow. Following the track across it, they 
emerged, through a small copse, onto a stretch of sand 
dunes and then onto a wide, sandy strip of beach that 
was completely sheltered from the wind. 

Hermione dropped her pack, undid her laces and pulled 
off her boots, then peeled off her ankle socks. She 
walked, barefoot, down to the black water and allowed 
one of the waves to roll over her toes. The water was 
pleasantly warm. She turned and came back to where 
Harry was standing beside her abandoned footwear. To 
his amazement, she started to unbutton her shirt.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" he stammered.

"I'm going for a swim," she answered. "Are you coming?"

"I didn't bring a costume," he said, his eyes locked on 
Hermione's fingers as, one after another, the shirt 
buttons were being undone.

"Well that was dumb of you," Hermione said. "You were 
the one who said that we might find a beach somewhere."

She flipped open her shirt. Harry had been holding his 
breath in anticipation and was only slightly 
disappointed to discover that she was wearing a white 
bikini top under it. Her shorts quickly followed her 
shirt to the sand, revealing the matching bottom half 
of the swimsuit. Without a glance at him, she ran back 
down to the water. Moments later she was splashing and 
rollicking around in it, laughing gaily as she was 
rocked gently up and down in the gentle swell.

Harry couldn't decide if he was ecstatic or downright 
miserable. On the one hand, he had seen more of 
Hermione's body in the past two days than he could ever 
have expected to see anywhere but in his imagination... 
and there was no doubt in his mind that the real thing 
was far more alluring than in even his wildest dreams. 
But it was also torture to have such a desirable body 
so close and yet to feel unable to touch it for fear of 
spoiling, even destroying, the whole friendship between 
them. And Hermione, he was sure, had no idea of what 
she was unwittingly doing to him.

Ten minutes later, she was racing up the beach towards 
him, her young breasts bouncing up and down as she ran, 
her long legs shedding droplets of water.

"That was brilliant," she panted. "You should have come 
in."

She bent over her backpack and his eyes were instantly 
drawn by her cleavage as she felt around for her comb 
and a towel. She spread the towel on the sand, then 
stood on it, legs astride, head tilted back, eyes 
closed, combing her hair while allowing the sun to dry 
her body. Try as he would, Harry could not prevent 
himself from gazing in disbelief at the distinct camel 
toe revealed by Hermione's bikini bottom. Thank heavens 
that she had her eyes closed was all he could think as 
he dragged his gaze away from her crotch. He took in 
the whole image of her now, standing so innocently 
combing her hair, and tried hard to store it in a small 
compartment of his brain for all time.

The truth was that Harry barely recognized this 
stunning creature who seemed to have been transformed 
from a gawky schoolgirl to a heavenly siren before his 
very eyes. He felt gauche and immature beside her and 
was sure that she would feel no great affection for a 
dunce who couldn't even think to bring a pair of 
swimming trunks to a beach.

This depressing thought didn't stop his body from 
reacting to her though, and the severe strain that it 
put on his underwear was causing him actual pain. As 
Hermione finished combing and shook her head to fan out 
her hair behind her, Harry prayed that she would not 
notice the bulge in his shorts. She, however, showed no 
sign that anything was amiss. She put the comb back 
into her pack and looked at him.

"You're not going to get a tan like that, Harry," she 
said. "You could at least take your shirt and shoes 
off."

Harry rolled his eyes heavenwards. She was right... 
again. He quickly took of his footwear and pulled his 
shirt up over his head. He saw Hermione glance at him, 
then look away. Clearly she was not impressed by his 
lily-white skin.

"Let's eat," she said, sitting on one end of the towel 
and patting the other end for him to sit beside her. He 
did. She passed him a sandwich, took one herself, drew 
up her knees and wrapped an arm around them, gazing out 
at the lake.

"It looks so forbidding from Hogwarts," she said, "and 
yet – when you get close to it – it seems completely 
different."

"Yes," Harry replied, "But then, many things here are 
not exactly as they seem when you first see them, are 
they?"

She looked at him for a long moment before replying.

"That's very true, Harry," she said. "Very true 
indeed."

They sat together enjoying the remainder of the picnic 
lunch and chatting about this and that. As they did so, 
Harry kept stealing surreptitious glances at Hermione. 
Slowly, he adjusted to the amazing sight of her in a 
bikini and finally the appalling strain at his crotch 
subsided. When they had finished eating, they cleared 
up the plates and glasses. Hermione stood up and gave 
Harry an appraising look.

"I'm going to have another quick swim and then I'm 
going to tan for a while before we go back to Hagrid's. 
If you wanted, you could join me."

He was about to remind her that he had no costume but 
she interrupted him.

"I know. You don't have swimming trunks but you could 
swim in your underwear. I won't look if you're 
embarrassed."

Harry wasn't embarrassed, he was panic-stricken. The 
very idea of him prancing around, barely restrained by 
his Y-fronts, in front of Hermione, had caused him to 
start getting hard again. If two layers of clothing, 
one of them heavy twill, could barely contain his 
rising excitement, what hope did he have that one layer 
of thin cotton could. She couldn't fail to see his 
condition. She would be disgusted with him and that 
would be the end of that.

"Probably not a good idea," he mumbled. "I'll stay here 
and guard our things, I think."

"From what?" she laughed. "There's nobody for miles."

"Nevertheless..." he managed.

"Suit yourself," she shrugged. This time she walked 
away, affording Harry a view of her beautifully rounded 
buttocks swaying sensuously as she moved slowly down to 
the water. He was thankful that she was not facing him 
as the tent at his groin was now quite unmistakable. He 
prayed that it would shrink again before she got back. 
Maybe if he closed his eyes. He did so and, lulled by 
the warmth, was soon in a deep sleep.

When he awoke, he was immediately aware that something 
was not right. He couldn't move his legs. His eyes 
snapped open and he found himself gazing up at a 
grinning Hermione who was busy tamping down the mounds 
of damp sand with which she had covered him while he 
dozed. She was straddling him and patting down the 
layer on his chest, working her way slowly towards his 
feet. 

She reached his buried stomach, and bent over, slapping 
her hand down hard on the sand to compact it. He was 
treated to a view down the valley between her skimpily 
covered breasts. Lower still and soon she was over his 
groin just as the inevitable began happening again. 
Fortunately, the loading on his middle was sufficient 
to contain the mounting pressure that he would have 
been otherwise helpless to hide. She was now at his 
knees and thoroughly enjoying his struggle to free 
himself. 

"Just you wait," he gasped. "I'll..."

"You'll what?" she giggled.

"I'll tickle you till you beg for mercy," he said.

"You'll have to catch me first," she said, now pounding 
the sand over his feet. Still laughing, she danced back 
a step or two as he fought to break the sand's hold. 
Slowly, he felt his fingers wriggling the wet grains 
aside and then his wrists moved. Straining hard, he 
managed to force one arm free and, raising it in the 
air, he pulled one shoulder clear. From that point on, 
the sand had no chance and he managed to sit upright, 
scrabbling the sand aside from his legs. Hermione 
waited just long enough for him to get to his knees and 
then she sprinted for the water with Harry hot on her 
heels. 

She raced along the water line with Harry in pursuit 
and slowly gaining on her. As he reached out to grab 
her, she dodged sideways and all he gripped was air. 
She raced on, confident that she could evade his grasp 
but she had not, perhaps, taking into account that 
Harry was the Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team 
and was used to outsmarting the wily golden snitch. The 
next time that she dodged, he anticipated her and 
flung his arms around her waist, dragging her, 
squealing with laughter, face down beside the shallow 
lapping water. Straddling her and sitting on her butt, 
he stuck his fingers into her armpits and began 
tickling.

She yelled, screamed and struggled but it was no use. 
He now had her pinned to the sand and could tickle her 
at will.

"Do you beg for mercy?" he demanded.

"No," she gasped.

He began to tickle her again and she burst into 
hysterical laughter.

"Okay, stop, Harry. Please stop," she pleaded.

"Do you beg for mercy?"

"Yes... yes, I beg for mercy."

Harry stopped tickling her and stood up. She pushed 
herself to her knees. Harry was busy brushing the sand 
from his body. Hermione jumped up and pushed him... 
hard. Taken by surprise, he fell into the water just as 
a larger than average wave broke over him. He was 
smothered by the small wall of water and staggered to 
his feet, choking and gasping for air. Hermione 
guffawed at the sight of him dripping water and he 
immediately launched himself in her direction but she 
ran like a hare all the way back to where their clothes 
sat in a pile on the beach. By the time he reached her, 
she was standing still and calmly offering him the 
towel to dry off.

He snatched it out of her hand.

"You brat," he grinned. "You caught me off guard."

"I know," she laughed, "But at least it washed all the 
sand off you."

"True, but now I have to walk back to Hagrid's place in 
soggy shorts."

"Never mind," Hermione said. "The sun and the wind will 
soon dry them out."

Harry pulled on his shirt and Hermione put her shorts 
and shirt back on over her bikini. They carefully wiped 
all the sand off their feet before putting their sock 
and boots back on, picked up their backpacks and began 
the walk back over the dunes, through the meadow and up 
the path to the hilltop. The walk back to Hagrid's was 
the most relaxed that Harry had ever experienced with 
Hermione. They chatted easily about things they had 
seldom discussed before. He told her all that he knew 
about his parents and she talked about her mother and 
father, and her own upbringing amongst Muggles.

Late that evening, after they enjoyed cocoa and 
biscuits together, it was time to go to their separate 
dorms where Professor McGonagall would look in on 
Hermione and Professor Dumbledore would stop by for a 
brief chat with Harry. Hermione stood up and Harry 
immediately stood too. She looked at him for a moment 
and then smiled.

"Goodnight, Harry," she said. "I had a lovely day. 
Thank you."

"Goodnight, Hermione," Harry replied. "It was one of 
the best days I can ever remember, so thank you too."

She gave him another long look before turning on her 
heel.

"Sleep well," she called. "See you tomorrow."

After she had gone, Harry went into his bedroom and got 
ready for bed. He had much on his mind and had just 
slipped between his sheets when Dumbledore arrived.

"Did you and Hermione have a good day, Harry," he 
asked.

"We had a wonderful day thank you Professor," Harry 
replied.

"That's good. That's good. Animals not causing the two 
of you too much problem are they?"

"No. Hagrid showed us what needs to be done and I think 
we have the hang of it now."

"I'm sure you have," Dumbledore smiled. "Well, Harry, 
you look a little tired so I won't keep you."

"Must be all that fresh air and sun," Harry said.

"Not to mention hard work. Mustn't forget that."

"No, Professor.

"Well, goodnight, Harry. Sleep well."

"You too, sir. Goodnight."

After Dumbledore had left him, Harry lay back and tried 
to replay the events on the beach in his mind... the 
electrifying sight of Hermione removing her shirt and 
shorts, his first glimpse of her in a bikini and his 
first intimate contact with her while he was sitting on 
her bum, tickling her. 

In minutes, he was rigid again and he was still in that 
state when he finally fell asleep. His dreams that 
night were vivid, complex, nonsensical but, oh, so 
erotic. When he awoke next morning, however, they 
slipped from his mind like quicksilver. He still had to 
change the bedding though.

That day, the weather was a little overcast and the 
temperature had dropped a few degrees from the previous 
day so, after taking care of the animals and walking 
Fang, Harry and Hermione decided to spend some time in 
Hagrid's cottage. Conversation was a little more 
stilted than on the walk home the previous day. 

For one reason, Harry was feeling more than a little 
guilty about the lustful thoughts he harboured for 
Hermione and the nocturnal outcome they had produced so 
he was making a real effort to concentrate on other 
things. Hermione busied herself tidying and dusting 
around the cottage while Harry cleaned some of the 
tools that were lying around in the barn. At noon, they 
had a long, lazy lunch together and then sat in 
comfortable chairs outside, sipping pumpkin juice, with 
Fang curled up contentedly on Harry's feet.

Harry was still trying to keep his mind off sordid 
thoughts, but it was like telling someone not to think 
about the word "wheelbarrow". He was trying to banish 
the image of Hermione's cleavage from his mind when she 
suddenly looked over at him.

"Harry," she said, "do you ever think about sex?"

Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.

"Well...," he managed at last.

His mind was racing. Was Hermione reading his mind? No, 
not possible! But maybe he could use this opening as a 
means of gently intimating what he was feeling for her 
in order to gauge her reaction. He was about to move 
the conversation in that direction when she spoke 
again.

"I mean, have you noticed how all the most powerful 
magicians seem to be men, not women. Voldemort, 
Dumbledore, Snape, Quirrel... while women seem to be 
consigned to the more passive roles of raising plants 
and nursing injured students? Why do you think that 
is?"

Harry's face fell. He should have known. Hermione was 
simply being academic again. Praise be that he hadn't 
said what was on his mind. He mumbled an answer about 
the traditional nurturing roles of women as opposed to 
the bellicose instincts of the male hunter-gatherer. 
Hermione listened to him, nodding occasionally but 
clearly not convinced. Truth to tell, neither was 
Harry. He had not asked to be singled out as the 
bulwark between Voldemort and the world and he 
privately thought that Hermione had the potential to be 
a far more powerful practitioner of magic than he would 
ever be. Finally, staring off into the distance, he 
muttered something about 'the gentler sex" and Hermione 
hurled a cushion at him.

Shocked, he looked over at her and she was laughing at 
him. He grabbed the cushion and threw it back at her. 
She squealed, caught it and jumped up. Grabbing it by 
the corner, she swung it at his head, still laughing. 
He picked up his own cushion and swung it at her mid 
section. She twisted sideways and the blow landed fair 
and square on her backside. She reversed the arc of her 
swing and her cushion smacked him on the back of his 
head.

"That's it!!" he roared, launching a flurry of blows in 
her direction. She screeched with laughter and raced 
off round the yard. He finally caught up with her as 
she had almost completed a full circuit of the garden. 
They exchanged swings and thumps but, by now, they were 
laughing so hard that there was no force to them. At 
last, out of breath, they collapsed back into their 
chairs.

"This is nice, Harry. I've never seen you laugh like 
that before. I'm glad that I decided to stay at 
Hogwarts," she said as she got her breath back.

"There hasn't been a lot to laugh at, when you think 
about it... until now. And I'm glad you stayed too, 
even if it was mainly for Hagrid's sake."

Hermione gave him that appraising look again.

"Yes... well, poor Hagrid never gets a break. I thought 
it was high time he had a few days off," she said.

"Yes," said Harry. "You're quite right. It is."

Hermione said nothing else that offered Harry a chance 
to test the waters and, once again, the day ended with 
them sharing cocoa and biscuits together before 
thanking each other for a nice day and then heading for 
their separate dorms.

The next day it was raining and extremely muggy. After 
breakfast, Hermione met Harry in the Hall as usual for 
the short walk down to Hagrid's cottage. Today, she had 
picked a pair of old, white jeans, a purple short-
sleeved blouse with what looked like a man's black 
waistcoat buttoned over it... and her jaunty cap again. 
Harry wore blue jeans and a grey T-shirt. They put on 
big yellow waterproof capes before setting out on the 
short walk down the hill to the cottage where they set 
about feeding the outside animals and cleaning the 
outside pens first. 

That done, they moved into the barn and shed their 
capes before attending to the inside creatures. When 
they had finished, Harry reached up and removed the 
coiled hose from its hook on the wall, connected it to 
the tap, turned on the water and handed the hose to 
Hermione. He grabbed a stiff bristle yard broom and, as 
she directed the jet, he scrubbed and brushed to help 
move the residue of the animal waste from the central 
aisle where they had shovelled and brushed it, towards 
the silage pit that was just outside the barn's main 
doors. Fifteen minutes later, the floor was glistening 
wet and clean.

Ignoring the pouring rain, Harry swept the last of the 
droppings into the pit and turned to go back into the 
barn. Hermione was standing just inside the door with 
the hose aimed directly at him, and she was grinning.

"Don't you dare," he warned her.

"Why not?" she laughed. "You're soaked already."

"That's not the point," he said, moving to get past 
her.

She immediately pointed the hose at him again.

"I'm warning you..." 

She squeezed the trigger and sent a short burst of 
water in his direction. It splashed over his boots.

"I mean it," Harry said. "I'll tan your backside if you 
do."

"You wouldn't dare," she said. "I'd turn you into an 
earwig if you tried."

"Not today, you won't, Hermione. No wand!"

Still laughing, she released another burst in his 
direction. This just caught the bottoms of his jeans.

"Okay," he said grimly. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

He started after her and she turned the hose on him, 
full force, hitting him in the chest. The coldness of 
the water made him gasp. In seconds, he was soaked to 
the skin, and the spatter had covered his glasses, 
effectively blinding him. He took them off and stuffed 
them into his jeans pocket before lumbering in her 
direction. She gave him another burst and then, 
squealing, dropped the hose and ran.

She headed straight for the ladder to the hay loft and 
raced up it. At the top, she jumped into the loft and 
started to haul the ladder up, trying to get it beyond 
Harry's reach. She didn't make it. He jumped and caught 
the ladder by its bottom rung. Hermione tried to haul 
it up but there was no way she could lift it and Harry 
too. He pulled it back down and leapt onto it. She 
squeaked and backed away from the door. First his head 
came into view and then his chest. 

In moments he was in the loft and advancing on her, 
still dripping wet. She looked behind her but there was 
nowhere to escape. Knowing that he had her trapped, 
Harry was in no hurry. He moved slowly towards her and 
she kept inching back Finally, her back was against the 
stacked up bales and still he was coming towards her. 
She cowered.

"No, Harry, please! I'm sorry."

But he could see she wasn't. For one thing she was 
still laughing.

"You should have thought of that before you soaked me."

He was right up to her now.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I told you. I'm going to tan your backside."

"You can't," she gasped.

"Why not?" he demanded.

"Because... well, you just can't is all."

Harry gave her a long, intense stare and she cowered a 
little lower. Suddenly, he grabbed her around the 
waist, lifted her clean off the ground in a bear hug 
and sat himself down on one of the single bales of 
straw around the loft. With the breath being squeezed 
out of her by his grip, Hermione gurgled and struggled 
but to no effect. Harry was too strong for her and she 
realised for the second time that she may have 
underestimated him. She felt herself slipping down his 
chest and then his hands grabbed her hips and swiftly 
twisted her body so that she landed, stomach down 
across one of his legs. He immediately place his other 
leg over hers, locking them in place and she felt his 
left hand pushing down hard on the back of her neck.

Hermione struggled and wriggled but Harry had her held 
fast.

"You can't do this, Harry," she gasped. "It's 
humiliating."

"So is being soaked to the skin by a trusted friend," 
Harry said.

Without any further warning, he raised his right hand 
and delivered a solid slap to Hermione's denim-covered 
rump. She squealed loudly, more from the surprise than 
the pain. She hadn't really thought he'd do it.

"Harry Potter. You're a beast."

Whack.

"Ouch. Enough, Harry. That hurt!"

"It was meant to. Are you sorry for soaking me?"

"Not particularly."

Whack.

"Yipes, Harry. That really stings. Quit it."

"I will when you say you're sorry."

"Never."

Whack! Whack! Whack!

"Jumping Jehosophat, Harry. Alright. I'm sorry. I'm 
sorry."

"And you won't do it again?"

"And I won't do it again."

Harry released her and she rolled off his knee to land 
flat on her back on the bed of straw that covered the 
floor.

"Until the next time," she grinned.

Exasperated, Harry slid off his seat and landed on the 
straw, his knees straddling her hips. He grabbed her 
wrists and pinned them to the ground above her head and 
glared down at her. She lay there, grinning up at him, 
totally unrepentant. He was about to turn her over and 
spank her again but something stopped him. He realised 
that she was not struggling but just looking up at him, 
waiting to see what he would do next.

He felt his heart start pounding and felt sure that she 
must be able to hear it hammering away in his chest. 
Instinctively he knew that it had to be now or never. 
He leaned forward and slowly lowered his lips towards 
hers, fully expecting her to twist her head away... but 
she didn't. Finally, their lips met and melted into 
that first, wondrous kiss that he would never forget as 
long as he lived. Tentatively at first, he repeated the 
kiss and was overwhelmed to find that it was being 
returned. He rolled off her and stretched out beside 
her, letting go of her wrists. He placed his hand on 
her shoulder and leaned over to kiss her again. 

This time, her mouth opened a little way and he felt 
her tongue brush over his lips. He followed suit and 
soon they were eagerly exploring each other mouths, 
probing, nibbling, and then kissing tenderly again. 
Finally, Harry took a pause to marvel at what had just 
happened.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he told her.

"Well, why didn't you?" she said. "I've been giving you 
enough hints." 

"Hints?" he said. "What hints?"

"Harry Potter," Hermione exclaimed, "for a brilliant 
magician, you can be extremely dense. Did it not strike 
you that my arranging to spend two weeks alone with you 
was a hint?"

"Well..."

"Or the fact that I suddenly took to wearing shorts and 
makeup?"

"I know, but..."

"Or that I lay around on a deserted beach, miles from 
the nearest human, in a tiny bikini?"

"Yes, but you see..."

"Or that I stood around two nights in a row after we'd 
had cocoa and biscuits, willing you to kiss me 
goodnight? Or that I challenged you to tickle me? Or 
that I got physical with you and a pillow? Did none of 
that seem odd to you?"

"Enough," Harry protested. "the truth is, I didn't know 
what to think. But, Hermione, rather than drop hints, 
which I was too dense to pick up on, why didn't you use 
a charm? I heard you talking to Ron about the 
properties of the Muckleberry in love potions."

"Isn't that obvious?" Hermione asked. "I want you to 
like me for who I am and as I am. If I'd used magic, I 
would never have known what you really thought of me 
and it wouldn't have been the same."

Harry looked at her and smiled broadly. 

"You're right of course. How dumb am I? I've been 
fancying you all this time but not wanting to risk 
ruining our friendship by making a move that might not 
be welcome. But I haven't been able to get you out of 
my mind for weeks now. As to seeing you in that bikini, 
it nearly finished me."

"I know. I saw."

"You saw?" Harry gasped, and felt his face burning with 
embarrassment. "Oh, god! What must you have thought?"

"Well, I think I'd have been more upset if you'd had no 
reaction at all. As it was, I took it as a compliment. 
Do you really think I have a nice body, Harry?"

"Nice?" Harry exclaimed. "How about spectacular?"

Hermione laughed.

"Spectacular's good," she said. "But talking of bodies, 
yours is still soaking and your teeth are chattering. 
You have to get out of those wet clothes or you'll 
catch pneumonia."

With that, she starting tugging at Harry's T-shirt, 
trying to pull it up over his head.

"Whoa," said Harry, "what are you doing?"

"Getting you out of those wet clothes of course."

"But I've got nothing else to wear here."

"So? You've seen most of my body. It seems only fair 
that I get to see yours."

"Yes, but there's a difference... isn't there?"

"Maybe, but if you don't get those things off, and 
soon, you'll get sick and I can't handle the animals 
alone. It's your call."

"You mean, take off everything?"

"Uh-huh. Everything."

She was grinning again.

"You set this up, didn't you?" Harry said.

"Uh-huh," Hermione nodded, laughing now. "Come on, 
Harry, Get on with it. You're not shy are you?"

"Yes, I bloody am," he said, but he let Hermione pull 
the T-shirt off. She stood up, and looked around the 
loft, spotting some rough cloth and a tartan horse 
blanket by the door. She grabbed them and came back to 
where Harry was struggling to get his soaking wet jeans 
off. She grabbed the bottom of the legs.

"Lift your bum," she demanded.

Harry did so and she heaved. The jeans slid down his 
thighs, then over his knees and finally she was able to 
whisk them off and drop them to one side. She looked 
down and saw that he was still uncertain.

"Come on, Harry. Off with them."

Harry was struggling with a dilemma. At present, the 
freezing water had caused his penis to shrink and he 
was not at all sure that this was the best first 
impression to make or, indeed, whether he was ready to 
make a first impression of any sort. On the other hand, 
experience told him that it didn't take much to bring 
his dick surging to attention and what message would 
that send to Hermione? She was standing there, waiting 
for him to act. 

"Oh well," he groaned, "in for a penny, in for a 
pound." 

He heaved his bum up off the floor and pulled his 
underpants halfway down his thighs, covering himself 
quickly with his hand. Hermione reached down and pulled 
this last item of clothing off him. 

She handed him one of the large pieces of rough cloth.

"Here, stand up and use this as a towel. It's quite 
rough but it'll get your circulation going again."

Harry knew there was no way of doing as she suggested 
without her seeing everything. He also knew that she 
was right. He needed to get his circulation going again 
to feel warm. Once he'd done that, the barn itself was 
plenty warm. Abandoning all thoughts of modesty, he 
stood, allowing Hermione her first, brief, full-frontal 
view of a naked male body before he quickly turned his 
back to her and began rubbing vigorously to dry himself 
off. He missed seeing Hermione smile. He was not at all 
bad looking, she thought.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" she asked.

He half turned to answer her.

"Bloody embarrassed, but I'm starting to feel much 
warmer already."

"Why don't you face me, Harry?" she said quietly. 
"Don't you think that I'm as curious about your body as 
you are about mine?"

As if in a daze, he turned to face her and saw her eyes 
go immediately to his groin, just as he had stared at 
her camel toe when she was on the beach. That memory 
was enough. Under her steady gaze, his prick started to 
twitch and swell. In stages, it jerked from flaccid to 
half mast to fully rampant.

He saw her jaw drop and heard her gasp.

"Harry, it's so big," she gulped.

"Is it?" he said.

"Well, I've no previous experience, but it looks big to 
me."

"You're not disgusted with me, are you?"

"Why would I be disgusted?" she said. "I told you, it's 
a sort of compliment. Even so, although I saw the bulge 
in your pants the other day, I had no idea..."

"I'd better cover myself," he said.

Hermione sat back down on the straw and watched him as 
he took the horse blanket and folded it in half before 
wrapping it round his waist like a kilt. He tucked the 
loose end into the waist and sat down beside her. She 
smiled at him and he leaned in and kissed her again. 
She wrapped her arm around behind his head and pulled 
him to her. They kissed again and then Harry lay down 
on the straw on his back. Hermione stretched out beside 
him and laid her head on his chest.

Harry reached over and removed her cap, then loosened 
her hair so that it fell down her back. She leaned over 
him and they kissed again for several minutes with 
increasing passion. When they next paused for breath, 
Harry pushed her flat on her back beside him and 
propped himself up on one elbow so that he could look 
down at her.

"Can I ask you something," he said.

"Of course," she answered.

"How long have you been 'dropping hints'?"

"Oh, for about four months."

"Four months!" Harry gasped. "Why didn't you say 
something?"

"Because it's up to the boy to make the running... not 
the girl."

"But I thought you were a strong believer in the 
equality of the sexes."

"In most things, but there are some matters in which 
I'm quite old-fashioned."

"What would you have done if I hadn't made the first 
move?"

"I don't know, but let me ask you a question. If you 
felt the same, why did it take you so long?"

Harry thought for a moment.

"I told you. I was afraid that if you didn't feel the 
same way about me, I'd ruin our friendship, and nothing 
would be worth the risk of doing that. In fact, 
"afraid" doesn't really cover it. I was terrified. I 
still am. I don't want to spoil things."

"Harry Potter. What are we going to do about you? 
Friends forever... remember? You chose that as a 
password. And if you don't know by now..."

She shook her head in amusement.

Harry felt a great wave of affection pass over him. It 
didn't quell his lustful thoughts but it did complement 
them. He thought that Hermione was the most wonderful 
creature he would ever meet and the most desirable. He 
felt himself swelling again. He looked at her. She 
looked at him, lying back in the straw, completely 
relaxed... unlike him. His hand trembling at what he 
was about to do, he reached across and started to 
unbutton the black waistcoat she wore over her purple 
shirt.

"Harry, what are you doing?" she whispered.

"You've seen all of me," he rasped, trying to catch his 
breath. "I want to see all of you."

"But you've seen most of me," she said.

"Not the best bits," he smiled.

"Oh," was all she said.

He fumbled all six buttons open and flipped back the 
vest. Only the top button of her shirt was unfastened 
but the thin material clung to her like a second skin 
and Harry was surprised to see two small bumps visible 
where the gentle swell of her breasts met the fabric. 
He started at the first closed button and began to work 
his way down. With the first button undone, he glimpsed 
bare skin and, with second, the top of a strapless bra 
and the valley between her breasts. 

"Sit up a moment," he urged. 

She did so and he reached round her, slid his hands 
under her blouse, up her back and unclipped her bra. 
Then he laid her back on the straw and pulled the bra 
free. He could now see the darker outline of her 
areolae through the thin cotton of her blouse. It was 
enough to bring him fully erect again.

Hermione saw the tent in his "kilt" and looked up at 
him. She saw his eyes gazing at her chest.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Harry," she said "but 
there's not a lot to see in that department, I'm 
afraid.

Harry got the last two buttons undone and gently pulled 
back one side of her shirt. He gasped, as his wildest 
desire was finally fulfilled. He had revealed a breast 
that was so sweet, so perfect in his eyes, that he felt 
tears of joy forming. The flesh was pale white, with a 
light brown circle at the tip from which extended a 
hard, pink nipple. He gazed at it in wonder for a 
minute before looking at her face. She was watching him 
and he detected the anxiety in her. Suddenly, she was 
no longer the confident one.

"Oh, Hermione," he said. "What are you talking about... 
disappoint me. You have the most beautiful breasts..."

He giggled suddenly.

"...I was about to say "that I've ever seen" - but 
yours are the first I've ever seen. But I love them. 
Can I touch it... please?"

Hermione sighed with relief.

"I guess so," she said.

Harry reached out and handled the exposed breast as if 
it might break. He heard Hermione sigh as his hands 
finally made contact with her warm flesh. Gently, he 
squeezed, delighted by the way that it fitted his 
cupped hand so perfectly and by the way that her 
hardened nipple pressed into his palm. He bent down and 
kissed it, and she sighed again.

Encouraged, Harry gave his attention to the waistband 
of her white jeans, It was a struggle but, eventually, 
he had it undone. He moved to unbutton the fly, 
conscious that his knuckles were pressing on her pubic 
area, causing her to wriggle a little.

"Lift your bottom," he ordered, and Hermione did as he 
had said.

Harry raised her legs in the air, slid her jeans off 
and dropped them beneath her, laying her legs back down 
over them. Now all that stood between him and the final 
revelation were her white cotton panties. He could see 
that camel-toe again and he could wait no longer. Using 
both hands, he reached for the waistband at her hips.

"Lift again," he said.

This time, there was a pause before she complied and, 
for one moment, he thought that she was going to 
object, but then she raised her bum and he removed the 
last veil. She lay back, arms stretched above her head 
and one breast covered by the shirt. Then she slowly 
spread her legs for him.

Harry just sat back on his butt and stared. Hermione's 
pussy was virtually hairless and the outer lips of her 
labia were just slightly puffed up. The small notch 
that was her clitoris was just visible but the entrance 
to her vagina was still concealed... not that Harry 
knew all that much about female anatomy. It didn't 
matter. She was everything that he had imagined or 
dreamt about... and more.

Hermione saw him looking at her most secret area and 
saying nothing. In spite of her making the running to 
this point, she was not really that bold.

"Is it alright, Harry?" she asked nervously.

"No, it's not 'alright'," he said and saw the shock on 
her face.

"It's wonderful... is what it is."

Relief swept over her.

"Oh, Harry, I was so worried you'd be disappointed," 
she said.

Harry ran his hand over her hairless delta, causing her 
to shudder.

"I love it, Hermione. It really is wonderful."

He continued to caress the area for a moment and then 
lay down beside her. She made no move to cover herself. 
She kissed him again and then looked at him earnestly.

"Can I ask you a favour?" she said.

"Of course. What is it?"

Hermione nodded at the tent in Harry's "kilt" which had 
not in any way subsided.

"Can I look at it again... and touch it, maybe?"

In spite of their new intimacy, Harry could not help 
feeling embarrassed still, but he nodded agreement.

"I guess, but will you take your blouse off first. If 
I'm going to be completely naked, so should you be."

Hermione immediately sat upright and slipped the shirt 
and vest off her shoulders, tossing it to one side. She 
heard Harry's intake of breath and saw him gazing at 
her breasts. Her nipples hardened again and she reached 
out to pull the tucked-in end of the blanket free from 
his waist, flipping the coarse fabric aside. Harry sat 
back, legs splayed and his penis standing bolt upright. 
Hermione studied it for a long moment, especially the 
folds of loose skin at its tip, with the round pink tip 
pushing through.

"Is that a foreskin?" she asked.

"Er... yes," Harry blushed.

She reached out with a finger and pushed lightly on the 
end.

"It's quite hard, isn't it," she said in a surprised 
voice.

"It is now. It isn't always."

She gently wrapped her hand around it.

"It's so warm," she said.

She slid her hand down its length until she encountered 
his testicles, which she cupped carefully.

"It's lovely, Harry," she smiled, releasing him and 
laying back down.

"You're lovely too." he smiled. "I still can't quite 
believe this. I've been going nuts for weeks now, 
wanting to see you like this but quite sure it would 
never happen. But here you are, and it's better than I 
ever imagined."

"Wow," she said. "I really thought that you didn't find 
me attractive... that is, until I saw your reaction to 
my bikini."

She grinned as Harry blushed again. Harry thought again 
about the mental anguish he'd experienced in trying to 
decide whether or not to make that first move.

"Well, it's hard, isn't it?" he said.

Hermione burst out laughing.

"It certainly is!" she said, nodding at his still 
rampant dick.

"You know what I meant," Harry protested.

"I'm sorry," she grinned. "But you are so serious 
sometimes. I thought you were going to choke when I 
asked you if you ever thought about sex. I've never 
seen anyone so embarrassed."

She started laughing again.

"You brat," Harry roared. "You did that deliberately?"

She nodded.

"Then it's time I taught you another lesson."

And he prepared to tickle her again but she was ready 
for him this time and rolled sideways so quickly that, 
instead of landing on her, Harry landed face-down in 
the straw. Quick as a flash, it was Hermione who was 
straddling him and sitting on his backside. Harry was 
intensely sensitive to tickling and Hermione was 
totally merciless. She soon had him hysterical and 
begging her to stop.

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Hermione removed her 
fingers from his armpits and knelt up so that Harry was 
able to roll onto his back, with her still straddling 
him. She knelt there, totally nude now, her hands on 
her hips, head tilted to one side, shoulders back, 
breasts jutting and Harry thought that he had died and 
gone to heaven. He reached up and fondled her breasts, 
using a finger to explore her swollen nipples. 

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, sighing 
with pleasure. He took her hands and pulled her down on 
top of him, feeling her hardened nipples pushing 
against his chests. Their lips met and, this time, the 
feelings were even more intense as each knew that they 
had been granted open access to each other's body.

Harry found himself experiencing new and ever more 
arousing sensations, such as Hermione's flat belly 
pressed against his own, her legs spread and stretched 
alongside his and, wonder of wonders, her pussy forcing 
his rigid prick down between his legs. Automatic 
responses that neither had ever experienced before were 
coursing through their bodies and pure instinct was 
replacing experience and knowledge. Hermione heard 
Harry grunt with discomfort as his penis was bent 
painfully downwards, so she slid, slowly, down the 
length of his body until her hands were on his hips and 
her face was level with his groin, allowing his dick to 
spring upright again.

She spent a moment or two studying it again, before 
reaching out to grasp it with one hand. Hesitantly at 
first, she leaned down and kissed it and Harry 
shuddered. She was alarmed for just a second until she 
realised that it was pleasure not disgust that he was 
feeling. Encouraged, she kissed it again, then opened 
her mouth a little to take in the tip, which was 
starting to seep a pungent, clear fluid that was salty 
on her tongue. This time, Harry actually groaned with 
pleasure and she knew that she was on the right track. 
She may have lacked experience but she didn't lack 
knowledge and she slid her mouth down his shaft as far 
as was comfortable, sucked hard and then slid back up. 
Glancing quickly to see what effect this was having on 
Harry, she saw that his eyes were closed and his head 
was tilted back in ecstasy.

She tried doing it again and heard Harry say something. 
She didn't catch all the words but they included 
"wonderful"... which seemed to be his favourite word of 
the day. So she continued moving up and down on him 
and, as she relaxed a little, she was able to take in a 
little more of him, until she was covering almost all 
of his length with each stroke.

Harry, too, knew something of the theory of sex but 
nothing can really prepare and adolescent, boy or girl, 
for the overwhelming sensations that sweep through the 
mind and body when sharing that experience for the 
first time with someone who feels about you as you do 
about them. Things were moving so fast that he was 
hardly having time to absorb what was happening, 
although he wanted desperately to savour every moment. 
Perversely, he didn't want things to slow down... not 
that his eager, young body would have been in any mood 
to listen anyway as Hermione's tongue lapped at the 
throbbing head of his dick, sending tingling shocks 
along its length.

With your best mates all sleeping just a few feet away, 
life in a dormitory made self-stimulation next to 
impossible so Harry's ejaculations to that point had 
all been as a result of erotic dreams that he instantly 
forgot after being woken by the violent expulsion of 
cum under the covers. This time, however, he could feel 
the welling up of sensation as Hermione continued her 
steady sliding and sucking. It moved from a twitch to a 
rhythmic contraction of his stomach muscles which was 
quickly accompanied by warmth spreading down to his 
testicles, causing them to tighten. He felt pressure 
building at the base of his penis and could feel his 
heart rate increasing as adrenalin flooded his body.

At last, he knew what was about to happen and he gasped 
a warning.

"I'm coming, Hermione. I'm coming."

She slid off him just in time and he pumped a powerful 
stream of white semen onto the straw between his legs.

Hermione watched in awe as jet after jet arced through 
the air until at last his heaving body spurted just 
once more and he collapsed back onto the ground in an 
ecstatic daze, his eyes closed and his chest heaving.

"Wow, Harry," she said at last. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yes!!" he sighed. "That was fantastic."

"Oh, good," she said, sounding relieved. 

"Just give me a moment," Harry murmured.

Hermione lay down beside him and watched intently as 
his penis slowly subsided.

"That is so amazing," she said at last. "It's just like 
magic."

"Yes, well it may take a little magic to get it back up 
again in a hurry," he grinned.

"Well, we're not in a hurry, are we?" Hermione smiled.

"As far as I'm concerned, I don't want this moment to 
ever end," Harry said.

Hermione sighed contentedly and lay back.

"That's good then," she laughed.

Harry's breathing soon returned to normal and he sat 
up, cross-legged, to look at her. All shyness had gone 
now and she allowed his eyes to take in every inch of 
her body.

"I want to make you feel good too," he said at last, 
"but I'm not sure how to do it."

"You don't have to," she said

"Maybe, but I want to," he said. "What should I do?"

"Well, you could rub me... down there."

"You mean... your... your slit?" he asked nervously.

"Yes. There's a spot at the top, my clit, that makes me 
feel really good when it's rubbed."

"Oh, wow! Okay, if you're sure."

"I'm sure," she smiled.

Harry studied the target area for a moment and then 
extended an experimental finger. He ran it lightly 
along the line of her pussy.

"Like this?" he asked.

"Yes, but a little harder."

Harry followed her instructions and watched her face. 
Her smile became dreamy and she closed her eyes. As he 
rubbed backwards and forwards along the line of 
puckered flesh, he felt the small protrusion at the top 
end begin to swell and heard Hermione sigh with 
contentment. The folds of flesh on either side of the 
slit had started to puff up again and, as he continued 
to rub, concentrating more and more on the little 
hardened knob at the top, he felt a trace of moisture 
forming under his finger. The outer lips continued to 
swell and the trace of moisture became a stream. He saw 
Hermione's stomach tighten and a low moan of pleasure 
escaped her lips.

Harry rubbed a little faster and discovered that, now 
that they were fully swollen, the outer lips had 
revealed a small entrance at the base of her slit and 
everything now made sense. He allowed his finger to 
explore the opening and watched Hermione spread her 
legs wide to give him and unobstructed view and 
complete access. His finger probed and, this time, the 
moan of pleasure was louder. He pressed a little harder 
but his way was barred by a veil of skin so he returned 
to massaging and tweaking her clit. Hermione began to 
breathe harder and Harry changed his position to kneel 
between her spread legs.

Looking down at her, he felt drawn to try doing to her 
what she had done to him so he bent over and applied 
his tongue to her crack, newly aware of her musky odour 
and pungent taste. She positively shuddered with 
pleasure as his tongue ran over her swollen flesh and 
found her rigid nubbin. He took it gently between his 
teeth and pulled. Hermione's body heaved and she 
squealed as a massive orgasm swept through her with the 
force of a tidal wave. Her bucking body pushed Harry 
aside and he watched, first in concern and then in awe 
as she convulsed in ecstasy.

Finally, the wave subsided and she opened her eyes to 
look at him.

"Thank you, Harry," she sighed. "That was the best 
ever."

Harry looked puzzled.

"The best ever? Do you mean that someone else has done 
it to you?"

"Of course not, you idiot. But I have done it to 
myself."

"Oh," he said.

"Why? Haven't you... done it to yourself, I mean?" she 
asked.

"Well, no... not exactly."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean... not exactly?"

"Well, what I mean is, I haven't jerked myself off but 
I do sometimes have dreams that cause me to..."

"Ejaculate?"

"Yes."

"What do you dream about?

"I can't ever remember... but you, I would imagine."

"So what do we do... in your dreams I mean?"

"I told you. I can't remember."

Hermione gave him a wicked grin.

"What do you imagine us doing then?" she asked.

Harry blushed and said nothing.

"Come on, Harry. There's no point in being shy now. 
What do you think about when we're together?"

"Well, I think that you are extremely pretty and 
very... desirable. You know what happens to me when I 
see your body so, until now, I've tried not to think 
about it when you're around."

"And now?"

As if in direct response to her question, Harry felt 
his prick starting to harden again. Hermione burst out 
laughing.

"Harry Potter," she said. "Looks like you did bring 
your magic wand with you after all."

Harry made an instinctive move to cover himself but she 
stopped him. 

"No, don't hide it, Harry. I am so happy that I can 
make it do that". She paused for a moment, until he was 
fully hard again. Then she smiled at him

"I've always been looked at as a "swat" ...you know... 
clever, but a pain. Oh, it's alright. I know what 
people say. I've never thought of myself as being 
attractive but to see your penis standing up like 
that... because of me... makes me feel special."

"You are special. You always have been... to me... and 
to Ron, but maybe in a different way."

"Yes, well... thank you... but we were talking about 
your imagination and what you saw us doing."

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I don't think I can tell 
you."

"Nonsense, Harry."

"No, it's not," he protested.

"I bet I can tell you... and I won't need magic to do 
it."

Harry just looked at her.

"Harry, you're a really good-looking boy. About four 
months ago I sort of knew that what I felt for you was 
a little more than friendship. The minute I realised 
that you were feeling something too, all I could think 
about was that, whatever happened later in life, I 
wanted you to be my first, maybe my only, lover. I'm 
not just being conceited when I say that I think you've 
been thinking the same way, haven't you?"

"Well, yes, of course but, Hermione, it's a humungous 
step and I'm not sure it's right."

His voice trailed off, and he looked at her miserably.

"Why isn't it..." she asked, "...if you want it and I 
want it? These next few days may be the only time 
before we graduate that we'll have the chance to be 
alone together. And now that Voldemorts's back, who 
knows what dangers we still have to face, or if we'll 
succeed in beating him. If we lose next time, you know 
he'll kill us. I don't want to risk going to my grave 
without knowing what sex is all about, and there's no 
one else I want to share that with but you."

Harry studied her serious expression and his resolve 
crumpled.

"Put like that, what can I say? You can see how ready I 
am but, Hermione, it's very important to me that you 
know that's it's not just the sex. I really do care 
about you and I want to know that you're really sure 
about this."

"I do know that you care, Harry, and I'm certain that, 
if we do this, it'll be for the right reasons," she 
said.

"Oh, boy! Wow!" was all he could manage.

Hermione burst out laughing at the expression of 
delight on Harry's face.

"I do have a suggestion, though. I think that we should 
hold off until tomorrow... and that we should find 
somewhere more comfortable than a bed of straw. It 
prickles in places I'd rather not have prickled."

Harry was not sure whether he was disappointed or 
relieved about the suggested delay but he, too, was 
finding the floor of the hay loft less than ideal so he 
readily agreed. Hermione stood up and reached for her 
panties.

"Before you get dressed again, Hermione...," Harry 
said, standing also.

Hermione stopped and looked at him.

"What?" she asked.

"I've dreamt about this for so long, can I just look at 
you for a moment or two first."

Harry saw Hermione blush but she smiled at him too.

"I guess so," she said and, as he watched, enraptured, 
she did a slow pirouette for him, her eyes returning to 
his rampant erection as she completed the circle.

"You really are beautiful," he whispered.

"Oh, Harry," she grinned.

She moved to him, stood on tiptoe and flung her arms 
around his neck, kissing him hard. His hands went to 
her buttocks and he pulled her close to him, feeling 
his prick slide down her slit as it was deflected 
downwards again. She gasped at the contact, and kissed 
him harder, their tongues clashing in their excitement. 
Then Hermione pulled herself away.

"I'm not sure I can wait till tomorrow," she laughed.

"They say all good things are worth waiting for," Harry 
replied.

"I know but..."

She pointed to his erection.

"... it seems a pity to waste that."

She dropped to her knees in front of him, and took hold 
of his shaft, working her hand back and forth along it. 
Sure that it was as hard as it would get, she leaned in 
and took him in her mouth again. This time, Harry was 
so aroused that it was only moments before he felt an 
orgasm starting to build.

"I'm coming, Hermione," he warned her but she did not 
back off this time.

"I can't hold off," he shouted, but still she held him 
fast, her soft lips clamped tight around his rod, 
sliding and sucking on him.

"Oh, god!!" he yelled, jerking violently as he exploded 
into her mouth.

Hermione rode out his spasms and swallowed furiously to 
keep pace with his massive spurts of cum until, at 
last, he subsided, breathless and weak at the knees.

He was almost in tears.

"Holy shit, Hermione, I'm so sorry," he choked. 

"Don't be. It was my choice and, besides, it tastes a 
lot better than Polyjuice."

"Oh, my god, Hermione. That was... I mean, I've never 
felt anything like that. I didn't know I could feel as 
good as that."

"The best is yet to come, Harry," she smiled. "At 
least, I hope you'll think it's the best," she added 
nervously.

"I hope you'll feel the same way," Harry said quickly 
"but I don't mind admitting that I'm nervous about it. 
It's supposed to hurt the girl the first time. Is there 
a charm or a potion that we can use to prevent that?"

"Even if there were, I wouldn't want to use it. The 
pain is only supposed to last for a moment or two and 
it's a part of sharing the first experience with 
someone. I wouldn't want to miss out on any part of 
that... especially with you. Don't worry, Harry. Follow 
your instincts and I'm sure that everything will be 
fantastic."

She kissed him quickly and then started to get dressed. 
Harry watched her for a moment or two and then, when 
his erection finally abated, he followed suit.

Needless to say, Harry didn't neglect to give Hermione 
a goodnight kiss that night. His only uncomfortable 
moment was when Dumbledore stopped by to see how Harry 
was doing soon after he had got into bed.

"Did you have a good day, Harry," he asked.

"Oh, yes sir, I had a great day," Harry enthused.

"It was not the best day, as far as the weather goes. 
What did you two get up to?

Harry thought furiously and then came up with a version 
of the truth.

"After mucking out and feeding the animals, we attended 
to a few things in the hayloft until the rain stopped"

"Very sensible of you," Dumbledore smiled. "No doubt 
you got the feel of things up there."

"Oh, yes sir," Harry said, smothering a grin. "I did 
indeed."

"Good boy. Well, then. I'll wish you goodnight."

"Goodnight, Professor," Harry replied politely.

Thinking back on the momentous events of the day, Harry 
fully expected to be awake half the night but much to 
his surprise, he was asleep in moments and slept like a 
log. 

Next day, he awoke to see the sun streaming through the 
windows. He jumped up and looked outside. It was going 
to be the perfect day. He jumped into his work clothes 
and hurried down to the common room. Hermione was 
already there, dressed for work, and as soon as he 
arrived, produced a hearty breakfast for them.

"You're going to need your strength today, Harry," she 
quipped.

They raced through the schedule of tasks and, by 10.30, 
they were finished... their best time yet.

As they walked back up the hill to the school, to 
shower and change, Harry looked over at Hermione and 
still found it hard to believe that, before the day was 
out, they were going to be lovers in the full sense of 
the word.

"Where do you think we should go?" he asked shyly.

"I've been thinking about that," she answered. "What do 
you think about going back to the river bank. It has a 
place to swim and it also has some shade. We don't want 
to get sunburn on our parts. It would be a little hard 
to explain to Madame Pomfrey!"

"That's what I was thinking too. And it's completely 
private."

"Nonetheless, Harry, this time I think we should take 
our wands with us, just in case we run into someone 
unexpectedly. I'd want to be able to make sure they 
forgot they ever saw us."

"Good idea," Harry agreed. "Okay, the river bank it is 
and, this time, I guess we won't need swimming 
costumes, will we!"

Forty-five minutes later, they were ready to leave. 
Harry had chosen a green golf shirt and white shorts. 
As usual, he was first to arrive in the Hall. When 
Hermione arrived, she was wearing a one-piece outfit 
that looked a little like a boiler suit, except that it 
was in light blue denim. It had a zip that ran from the 
neck to the crotch. If he was being honest, Harry was a 
little disappointed that she had not chosen something a 
little sexier but, knowing what was ahead, he didn't 
complain. They set out and were unusually quiet as they 
wended their way alongside the forest to the point 
where the pathway led down to the river. From there, it 
was another fifteen minutes to the grassy knoll beside 
the swimming hole.

Harry had brought a soft blanket with him and he spread 
it on the grass under the shade trees. On this 
occasion, they were able to whisk up a splendid picnic 
at the flick of a wand. Harry was so nervous that he 
ate only a little of what was on offer but Hermione 
tucked in with gusto. Once they had finished eating, 
another flick and the residue vanished. Hermione kicked 
off her shoes, settled back happily on the blanket 
using her backpack as a pillow, and looked up at Harry.

"You're very quiet, Harry," she said. "Not having 
second thoughts are you?"

"Not at all," Harry said quickly, "but, quite honestly, 
I'm very nervous as well as very excited."

"Yes... well it's a big step I know, but I'm ready to 
take it if you are."

"I just don't want to disappoint you," Harry confessed.

"I'm sure you won't", she smiled. "Now, lie down next 
to me and try to relax."

Harry didn't need a second bidding and he stretched out 
on his side, close to her, propping himself up, as 
before, on his elbow so that he could look at her. He 
still could not believe that this beautiful girl with 
the twinkling eyes, the adorable snub nose and the 
sparkling smile was as infatuated with him as he was 
with her. As if to make sure he was not dreaming, he 
leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips, feeling 
a reassuring response as she eagerly kissed him back. 
Now that they both knew how things stood between them, 
there was an unspoken decision not to rush things. They 
had privacy, they had time and they had each other.

They kissed again, using their tongues to explore lips 
and teeth. Harry's affection for Hermione overwhelmed 
him and he kissed her forehead and her cheeks before 
slipping his head sideways to nibble her ear. She 
squealed with pleasure and he returned to kissing her 
lips. Both were acutely aware that the next short while 
would change their lives and their relationship for 
ever.

His hand trembling again, but with emotion this time, 
not fear, Harry reached for the small metal tag to the 
zip that ran down the entire length of Hermione's denim 
boiler suit. Hermione watched his face as he slowly 
began to slide the zip down. He was anticipating 
encountering lacy underwear but, as the zip descended, 
all that was revealed was bare flesh... no bra. Lower 
still, and more bare flesh... no panties.

Harry gasped. The denim suit was the only garment 
Hermione was wearing! All morning, just one zip had 
separated him from complete access to her body. He 
gaped and looked up at Hermione's face. She was 
grinning like mad.

"Ye gods, Hermione!" he gasped. "That's the sexiest 
thing I've ever seen. I just love it."

"So I see," she laughed, pointing at the tent in his 
shorts. 

"Well, you're so beautiful, what do you expect," he 
protested.

"Thank you, Harry," she laughed, " but you'd better get 
those shorts off before they split."

All shyness now gone, Harry hurried to strip off all 
his clothes while Hermione wriggled out of the gaping 
boiler suit. Both now completely naked, they lay back 
down and simply looked at each other for a while. Harry 
noted that Hermione was equally aroused, her nipples 
perky and even her clit quite prominent as she gazed at 
his raging hard-on. He gently fondled her breast, 
running a finger over the stiff little stem and then 
around it, feeling the granulations of the areola 
before squeezing the firm flesh and leaning in to suck 
on the tip.

This elicited a long sigh as Hermione, in turn, felt 
for, and held, Harry's throbbing prick. Harry 
alternated kisses between her breasts and then started 
to plant them lower, on the gradual slope leading down 
to her belly-button. Hermione released him as he 
continued to move down on her. His tongue tickled her 
belly-button and she giggled wildly and then she felt 
him moving lower still, over her flat, firm belly to 
her mound.

"Oh Harry," she murmured as he licked her delta before 
moving on again.

"Oh... Harry!!" she sighed happily as his tongue found 
and toyed with her fully engorged clit.

She was unable to lie still under his probing and her 
body began to twist and turn as his tongue flickered 
back and forth, then down again, along her flooding 
labial channel to where her vagina was now opening to 
his darting tongue.

"Oh, god, Harry. You're driving me mad. Do it... do it 
now... please," she begged.

She spread her legs wide and Harry moved to stretch out 
over her. He lowered his body until he could feel his 
prick grazing her labia. He slid the sensitive tip back 
and forth along her slit, poking at her clit, driving 
her body wild with desire for him and rousing him to a 
peak of anticipation for the final act.

"Please, Harry. Just put it in me...please," she 
wailed.

Harry lowered his body still further until he felt the 
tip of his penis settle against her hole. He tested the 
resistance and heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath 
which he took as a signal that she was bracing herself 
for the piercing of her hymen. He pushed down... hard, 
and she whimpered as he broke through the thin veil 
that guarded her entrance. Harry felt himself sliding 
into her warm, welcoming passage. Slowly, he pushed all 
the way in, feeling the walls of her vagina accepting 
him and gripping him firmly. He felt the tip of his 
shaft grazing her cervix and marvelled that such a 
small entrance would hide a passage supple enough to 
accept all of him. Now fully encased in her, he paused 
to allow her to recover from the initial pain. He felt 
light-headed with joy and was aware of an indescribable 
sense of building pleasure.

"Are you alright?" he asked, supporting his weight on 
his outstretched arms.

"I'm fine," Hermione grunted, "or I will be in a 
moment. God, Harry, I was right. It is big."

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'll pull out."|

He started to do so but she clamped her hands on his 
butt and pulled him back down into her.

"You'll do no such thing, Harry Potter. It feels so... 
I don't know what to say. You fill me up and somehow 
makes me feel complete."

"I think I know what you mean. I feel a total part of 
you and yet very much me."

"That's it exactly," Hermione smiled, "but, by the way 
it's throbbing inside me, I think your "wand" is ready 
to perform some more magic."

"Only if you're okay."

"I told you, I'm fine. And don't pull out at the last 
minute. The one piece of real magic I've used is to 
make sure that I don't get pregnant."

Harry slowly pulled back and then slid deep into her 
again, drawing a happy sigh from Hermione. Relieved 
that she no longer seemed to be hurting, he tried it 
again and when Hermione showed no sign of discomfort, 
Harry relaxed and let nature take over. He began a 
slow, steady pumping up and down, concentrating on 
allowing the top of his shaft to rub against Hermione's 
clit on most of his strokes. The result was, indeed, 
almost magical. Already highly aroused, Hermione began 
to breathe heavily, then pant. Her body started to 
heave spasmodically and then took up the accelerating 
rhythm with him so that, as he was thrusting down, she 
was thrusting up to meet him. 

Faster they went and Hermione felt as though her 
nipples might burst at the tip of her firm breasts 
that, to Harry's delight, were bouncing in unison with 
his thrusts. At this point, there was no stopping the 
rush of sensation that both were now feeling. Heat 
spread to their pounding loins, their breathing became 
strained, ecstasy that was almost pain surged to penis 
and vagina. In perfect unison, they crested, crying and 
laughing, as the most intense wave of pleasure either 
had ever felt, or imagined, held them frozen together 
and his hot sperm splashed over the back of her 
pulsating passage in powerful bursts.

At that moment, Harry would not have cared if Voldemort 
himself had appeared and struck him dead, for he was 
sure that there could be no greater bliss possible than 
this. Hermione, too, was – at that moment - totally 
fulfilled. Harry loved her for herself, thought her 
beautiful and had consummated his feelings in a manner 
that promised even greater hope for their future... for 
love... unconditional love between two people... was 
the one thing that Voldemort could not overcome. 
Individually, she knew that she and Harry were 
powerful. Together, she believed that they would be 
insuperable.

And in that moment, too, something that had been 
puzzling her suddenly made sense. She had been 
surprised by the amount of freedom from supervision she 
and Harry had been allowed. After all, they were 
adolescents... with all that implied. But now it 
occurred to her that Dumbledore and McGonagall almost 
certainly knew what was developing between her and 
Harry. After all, they seemed to be aware of everything 
else. She now saw that – far from preventing it – they 
had, in all probability, turned a deliberately blind 
eye, permitting the relationship to mature for the very 
reason that it would give she and Harry a powerful 
weapon against Voldemort that he would not likely 
anticipate. Surprise would give them the edge against 
him.

She lay there with Harry locked in her arms and still 
deep inside her, feeling that the die was cast and that 
they now had a real chance to beat Voldemort once and 
for all. 

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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