Much Ado About Hermione

Chapter 2: Midnight Meeting

Harry's hand glided along the wall as he maneuvered down the semi-dark winding staircase into the common room. On the bottom step, he rubbed his soar eyes and nearly jumped back when he saw that someone was already in the room. "Hey, what are you doing up?" he asked.

"I was just revising my paper for Professor Binns," said Hermione, not bothering to look up at him.

He stayed where he was, as he looked back at the staircase and then at her, debating whether to go back to bed.

She stopped working on her paper and looked up at him, her delicate eyebrows drawing together as she watched him linger near the stairs.

Noticing her glances, Harry quickly made his way to the armchair nearest the fire. His eyes then glazed over her as she lay on her stomach, pieces of parchment surrounding her body. His heart began to pound against his chest, and he quickly glanced elsewhere.

"Why are you bothering with the revision?" he asked, his gaze fixing onto the portrait hole. "You know you're going to get high marks on it."

"I don't know. A great idea just popped into my head and I had to add it into the paper."

"At midnight?"

"Yeah, but you're up too."

Harry scratched his head. "I couldn't sleep. My mind has been racing."

"You got some new ideas for you paper too?" she asked.

Harry closed his eyes when he heard the pitch in her voice turn from sweet to deep and husky. He wanted to see is she was looking at him, but he dared not look in her direction. "Yeah," he finally managed to say. "Something like that."

Although he tried his best to find something of interest that would keep his gaze at the other end of the room, his eyes were eventually pulled back to her. He glanced at her face; her head was still lowered, a strand of hair stuck to her moist lips.

His eyes ran up and down her body, taking in the sight of her nightgown as it perfectly draped over her figure. He could see the subtle outline of her panties through the flimsy material.

He sat back in the chair, consumed by the sight in front of him. That was the exact thing he had tried to escape by coming into the common room. Having spent the majority of the night in his bed trying feverishly to conceal his cries from his sleeping dorm mates as he went about his nightly ritual, he assumed a change of scenery would put a damper on his excitement. But he was surely mistaken.

He soon became preoccupied with the nearly sheer material of her gown. When he glanced back at her face, he was startled to find out she was looking back at him.

"You've been staring at me a lot lately," she said.

He looked down at his hands.

Hermione pushed the parchment away and sat up. "You keep looking at me like you haven't seen me before. It's a bit disconcerting."

His gaze remained lowered. He could now feel her eyes on him, probably giving him a questioning look, he thought. He shifted in his chair, trying to keep his movements casual, but knew he came off looking awkward and fidgety.

"Harry," she said again in the same tone that had only a few moments ago enraptured him. "I know there's something you want to tell me."

He continued to wring his hands. He glanced up and stared into her eyes, which were urging him on. "I guess I'm seeing you in a new light," he began. "I mean you've changed so much. Physically, that is."

"So have you. And so has Ron. He's about the tallest student in the school now."

"I know we've all changed, but your transformation has been so sudden."

"Am I that much different than I was last year?" she asked. "I don't believe I've changed."

"Yes you have." He sat back in his chair and stared up and down at her, thinking of all the differences he could spot on her body. "You just don't realize it because it's a part of you. But I see the change. You're a much bigger girl now." He winced the moment he heard the words slip from his mouth, thinking why he couldn't have chosen a more delicate and flattering phrase. He then worried she would think he was insulting her and commenting on her weight.

A quick examination of her face showed there was no anger present. He took a deep breath as his eyes inadvertently traveled downward, to that spot on her body that had altered so dramatically over the past couple of months.

"I haven't gotten any taller," Hermione said. "I'm still the same height I was last year." She began to look down at her body. She then glanced up at him. "Besides my hair, I really don't see anything that's diff---" She stopped talking when she noticed his gaze was not directed at her face.

Following the path where his stare was aimed, her eyes landed on her chest. Finally realizing what he was on about, she quickly wrapped her arms around her bosom and lowered her head. "You were talking about my breasts, weren't you?"

His view finally blocked, Harry snapped from his daze and looked at her face, which was now obscured by her long hair. "No. It's not like that. It's not just your breasts, it's all of you."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she asked from behind her hair.

He sat quiet as he noticed her reddening face. "I'm sorry I've been staring at you," he began, "but I can't help it." He looked down at his hands again, thinking if he should say the words that were on the tip of his tongue. He knew that his next statement would cause his face to grow more crimson than hers.

"You've mesmerized me," he said slowly. "I guess I've just noticed how beautiful you are this year. That's why I'm always staring at you like that. Sorry if it makes you feel uncomfortable."

She began to lift her head and gave him a sideways glance.

He waited patiently for her to begin talking, wondering if she would see him as a pervert and storm out of the room or feel complimented.

"You really think I'm beautiful?" she asked.

Harry exhaled slowly. "Yes."

A bashful smile crept onto her face. "I've never had anyone say that to me before. I was beginning to feel a bit self-conscious at the way you kept looking at me. I was starting to think you didn't like my hair."

He eyed her hair as it collected in a puddle of loose curls at the slope of her neck. "I love your hair. It doesn't draw attention away from your beautiful face like your old hairstyle."

They both laughed.

A heavy silence then loomed between them as they both looked down at the floor. Now that he had confessed his feelings to her, he found that there was nothing else to say. He quickly glanced at her, their eyes locked, and they exchanged a smile.

"I never thought you'd say something like that to me," she said. "I'm just glad to know you feel the same about me as I do about you."

Harry was looking down at his shirt when he quickly glanced up at her. "What?" he asked, after her last comment finally sank in. "You have feelings for me?"

"Yes.”

Harry recognized the look that was now on her face; that was the same uneasiness that was present on his own a few moments before. He smiled to himself, thinking how he liked seeing her vulnerability, having only been presented with the confident and determined side of her personality for so many years.

"I guess you can say I'm seeing you for the first time too," she went on. "I've also been looking at you lately."

"When has this been going on?" He scratched his head, thinking back to any times when he had felt her brown eyes on him.

She must have sensed what he was doing because she responded, "When you least expect it." She looked down at her bare feet. "I think you've turned into a very handsome man."

Harry smiled to himself, imagining the way he must have looked, with his disheveled hair sticking straight up on his head and dark circles around his eyes. "Are you kidding? I look like shit."

"You look great."

He quickly ran his fingers through his hair, trying to straighten the loose strands. "I like the messy hair," she said. "I've grown used to it. It's a bit sexy in a way."

She sat with her back to the fire and stared at him. The illumination from the flames allowed him to see through the thin material of her gown; he could plainly see she wasn't wearing a bra.

"This is so weird," Harry said as he shook his head. "I've dreamt of this moment for a long time. It's just a bit unreal to hear you say those things."

"You've dreamt about me?"

"Yeah. All the time."

She continued to stare at him, her eyes begging for more information, as her interest was now aroused.

"I don't want to tell you what they're about," he said, after seeing the look on her face. Anticipating that she was about to ask him something else, he added quickly, "My dreams are a bit weird. And I don't want to scare you off."

"I'm sure they're not that bad. Why don't you tell me and let me make the decision?"

He sucked in a breath when he noticed the look she was bestowing on him, her eyes sparkling, her warm smile beckoning him to continue.

"Well..." he started, "they have to do with us engaged in various erotic situations."

She continued to stare at him, her smile slowly disappearing, as confusion flooded her face. "Is that your way of saying the dreams involve us having sex?"

He felt sudden warmth on his face. "Yeah," he mumbled. He dropped his eyes, but began looking at her once more when he heard her laughing. His heart began its fast paced pounding once more as he now regretted his decision to tell her such racy information. "Hermione, we're not just having sex. We're doing other romantic things like--"

"You don't have to explain yourself," she interjected. "I have the same dreams about us all the time."

His eyes washed over her for a moment, trying to figure out if she was joking with him, or saying those things so he wouldn't feel embarrassed. "Really?" He watched as she nodded her head. "Wow. I never imagined you'd be dreaming about stuff like that."

"I'm human just like you," she responded. "I have desires too."

He waited for a moment, his curiosity had been awakened and he wanted to know more. Being that they were sharing so much already, he wondered if she would provide more information.

"You want to know what were doing in the dreams, right?" she asked.

He smiled sheepishly, for she knew him all too well.

"One dream that I have a lot," she continued, not waiting for him to urge her on, "is me going down on you."

Harry's eyes flew wide and he coughed several times. "What?" He then sat back in the chair, eyeing the cheeky smile that was now growing on her face. "Do you even know how to do that?"

"Of course I do. That was Krum's favorite activity."

His eyes stayed fixed on her, alternating emotions flashing within their depths. At that one single moment he was shocked, baffled, and turned on at the same time. He'd always seen her as a sexual being in his wicked thoughts and dreams, but never imagined she'd be like that in real life. But here she was, telling him otherwise. Not only did she have an erotic side, she also engaged in taboo sexual acts.

"You don't believe me?" she asked.

"No...I mean yes. I do believe you. It's just kinda hard to imagine you--" He stopped talking, thinking how he had imagined her doing those things to him on numerous occasions. He stayed quiet as he slowly began to accept that she could be as wild as he had always hoped. "Describe to me the technique you would use," he said, trying to contrast and compare her real life methods to what she did to him in his thoughts.

A sly smile spread on her face. Harry watched as she seductively crawled towards him on all fours and sat on the floor in front of him. She began to stroke his thighs, feeling him tense under her fingertips.

"The first thing I would do to arouse you--" She stopped talking when she looked down and saw the visible signs of his excitement through his clothing. "Is that for me?"

Harry looked down at his lap, and then glanced at her to see if she was disgusted by what she saw. She didn't move away from him. Her hands went back to his legs, stroking them more vigorously than before.

Their eyes met and locked, both of them communicating emotions with just their stares. Harry felt a wave of relief as all the feelings he had been too embarrassed to express to her poured out of him. She sat up and brought her lips close to his ear. "I feel the same way," she uttered in a breathy voice.

He closed his eyes; that's been all he's wanted to hear from her.

He had very little time to react before he felt her tugging at his pajama bottoms. He soon found himself gripping the arms of the chair as the sudden heat hit his skin. The feeling was amazing, more enjoyable than any sensation he could have produced alone in his bed.

Although he was experiencing immense pleasure, he wanted something else from her. He wanted to indulge his fantasies, which centered on her bosom. He tore himself from his euphoria and pulled away.

"I want to see your breasts," he breathed.

Hermione got to her feet and stood before him. She pushed down the straps of her nightgown and the silky garment slid down her torso before resting on the shapely curves of her hips. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close.

When he had gotten his fill of exploring the area that had been the main attraction of his thoughts and dreams, he looked up at her. "Why don't you finish me off with them?"

He leaned into the chair. His mouth slightly opened, he threw back his head as a flash of pure delight speared through him. "Oh Hermione," he gasped.

"Harry." The voice coming from her mouth was deep and husky.

He began to squirm in the chair. "Yes, say my name."

"Harry."

He looked down at her with bewilderment on his face. Her voice was now starting to sound a bit like Ron.

"Mr. Potter!"

Harry's elbow slipped from under him and his face came crashing onto his desk. He lifted his head and found himself staring into Snape's dark eyes.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt you from your little nap," hissed the Potions Master.