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2009-07-29
Hermione Granger’s Long Night, Pt. I
Hermione Jean Granger awoke in the early afternoon feeling stiff and sore. Taking a few moments to remember why she felt so, her thoughts drifted to the events of last night. The Battle of Hogwarts still rang clear in her mind;
Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron spent much of the rest of the day keeping busy around the school. Walls, corridors, statues, even entire floors were devastated, and piles of rubble lay strewn about the building. Even worse were the small puddles of blood they found as they passed through the castle. The four helped in areas where help was needed. They used magic to clean, repair, and reconstruct as best they could, they consoled those who had lost friends or family in last night’s battle, they helped clear fallen death eaters and acromantula from the Hogwarts grounds.
At the end of the day, they dined together in the Great Hall. Hermione recalled that their table was situated some twenty feet from where Harry had defeated Lord Voldemort the night before, and even closer to where the dead of the Hogwarts defenders had lain: the faces of Fred Weasley, Lupin, Tonks, and Colin Creevey swam into her mind’s eye. She looked across the table to Harry, who might have been thinking the same thing; she saw a single tear streak its way down his face. His right arm was linked with Ginny’s, who was sitting next to him. He saw her looking at him, and despite his tears his face split into a wide grin. “I just wanted to thank you all for your help. We did it!” he cheered. For her, the mood suddenly changed from one of mourning to one of celebration; there would be time to mourn the dead later.
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Hermione noticed that the rest of the crowd in the Great Hall was chatting excitedly. She looked at the teacher’s table to see Hagrid talking with Horace Slughorn, a tankard in front of him. Getting an idea, Hermione said “a toast?” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, a large bottle of firewhisky appeared on the table along with four glasses. “Let’s get out of here” suggested Ginny.
The four took a walk around the grounds, finally ending in a clearing on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hermione conjured two loveseats with her wand as Ron summoned some wood and placed it in the center of the clearing. Hermione bent down to the pile of wood, pointed her wand at it, and whispered. Blue flames shot out of her wand, and the clearing was enveloped by the warm glow of the fire. Harry and Ginny sat down together across from Ron and Hermione.
An hour later, the four were talking and laughing, enjoying the warm night air and the fire. All of the aches and sorrows of the night before seemed to disappear with each swig of firewhisky. Hermione was reminded of the carefree summer afternoons Harry, Ginny, Ron, and her had spent outside just a year ago. Harry was holding Ginny, who had her head on his lap, while Ron had his arms around Hermione’s shoulder, which suited her nicely.
Ever since she and Ron had snogged last night during the midst of the battle, they’d been cool towards each other, but tonight, she hoped, would be different. Hermione was admittedly jealous of Hary and Ginny; last year they had a real relationship and now that Voldemort was dead it was easy for them to get back together…She and Ron didn’t have that history.
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There had always been a sort of unspoken sexual attraction between the two but after last night she didn’t really know where they were going, though she hoped that the firewhisky would help tonight. She felt tipsy, and knew that the others were feeling the same; Harry and Ginny held each other close and kissed each other softly as the fire crackled. Ron, however, kept trying to engage Hermione in conversation. “If only he knew any legilimency” thought Hermione, “he would know how bad I want him. ” Frustrated, she decided she’d try again another night, she told the three that she was heading to bed.
Hermione wandered back to their room on the fifth floor of the castle, stumbling slightly as she walked. She was glad that it was very late, for she should hate for any of the school staff to see her in such a condition. Professor McGonagal had arranged for four beds to be added to a spare classroom on that floor, and that was where the four had slept last night. She looked over with a twinge of disdain and remembered that Harry and Ginny had pushed their beds together.
Hermione flopped down on her bed and realized that the room was spinning ever so slightly. Deciding she needed a bath to relax, she grabbed Harry’s invisibility cloak from his bag, slipped it over her, and left the bedroom quietly.
Still stumbling a bit, Hermione wandered down to the Prefect’s Bathroom, passing a shattered gargoyle and some debris that hadn’t yet been repaired. Finally reaching her destination, she slipped the invisibility cloak off of her and turned the handle.
Hermione stopped at the water’s edge, turned one of the many handles, and ran her hand under the faucet. The water felt enticingly warm.
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Trying other handles, she found different scented and textured bubbles flowed into the pool. She unbuttoned her jacket and let it fall behind her jeans and slid them off of her slender legs. She followed with her white cami. Bending down to touch the rising water with her hand, she relished the thought of how good this bath would feel, peeled off the bra from her perky chest, and stepped out of her little pink panties.
The steam rose from the water as Hermione turned off the faucet and stepped into the pool, her thin legs entering first. She stepped onto a platform that ran around the pool that was about two feet deep and stopped to breathe deep a few times, her chest heaving as she did so. She smelled a scent that reminded her vaguely of fresh grass clippings and new parchment and, just like Slughorn’s love potion from their sixth year at Hogwarts, the smell of Ron!.
She stepped fully into the bath, thinking to herself that it was more like a pool. She fully submerged herself in the water and took a few laps, lazily swimming around. Finally, she took a seat on the raised platform, her hair soaking wet with foamy water that dripped onto her shoulders and down her chest and breasts, where it met with the water level of the bath. Finally able to relax, she was surprised about how tipsy she felt. Looking around the room, she saw that there were candles lit, which left a low and intimate light hanging around the prefect’s bathroom. Under normal circumstances, Hermione would never, ever have considered what she did next, but these were not normal circumstances; she was alone, was disappointed by Ron’s apparent lack of interest in her, and was extremely jealous of what Harry and Ginny may or may not be up to, so she let her left hand slowly drift up to her breasts, slowly massaging them as she went. Leaning her head back and continuing to caress her naked body, she felt her nipples harden at her touch. Hermione gasped a little at how much she was enjoying the moment.
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The drunken rush of the possibility of being caught turned her on, as well as the fact that she was enjoying being alone and in control. In her time fighting Voldemort, she hadn’t had any time to herself or time to spend for her pleasure.
Her right hand wandered down her submerged stomach and down to her legs. She teased her inner thighs for a few moments, stroking back and forth, imagining that it was Ron, not her, who was doing the teasing. Finally Hermione couldn’t stand it anymore: she took her hand and slowly massaged the outer lips of her pussy, using one finger, then two, to stroke. As soon as she made contact, she arched her back as a chill raced up her spine. The water acted as a natural lubricant for her, and every touch and stroke felt amazing. She could feel the orgasm building inside of her and moaned ever harder. And just as she was about to climax, she heard the door to the bathroom open. Mortified, she turned and saw Ron Weasley standing abashed at the entrance to the bathroom as he said “Blimey, I fancied a bath too!”
Perhaps this night would not be a waste after all, Hermione thought to herself.
Part II coming soon!
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