Hermione Granger & Daphne Greengrass Pt. 1

Aurora's explanation of just how the Wizarding World worked had been relatively helpful. It had taken time for Harry to get used to being special, but after years at Hogwarts, after years of being the Boy-Who-Lived, he was becoming more comfortable with his popularity. And the signs regarding his strength in magic had always been there, in the end.

After all, it was just last year that he'd been selected for the Triwizard Tournament out of every student at Hogwarts, only to take the entire thing home and win it all. Beating out the likes of Victor Krum and Fleur Delacour had taken quite some effort, but in the end, he'd taken down the older wizard and witch, despite the years of magical experience they'd had on him.

It was fifth year now, and it seemed everything was changing. Harry didn't mind it though. Now that he had a better idea of where he and the witches of Hogwarts stood, Harry didn't mind it one bit. Still, after hearing Aurora's explanations, and after fucking and taming both her and Septima to his will, there was one thing that Harry was still slightly confused about. It'd been niggling at the back of his mind, prodding him as he went about his day.

Glancing around, Harry smiles slightly. He was alone with the target of his confusion, and now was as good a time as any to question her. Slowing to a stop, Harry calls out to his current companion.

"Hermione?"

Hermione Granger blinks as she stops and looks at him. They're in a fairly out of the way and more importantly empty corridor, on their way to History of Magic. Not exactly a class that either is going to get detention for being late to, though the brunette witch who's been his best friend since he was eleven still looks a little put-out.

"Yes Harry? We do have a class to get to you know."

The witch had bounced back surprisingly well from the events in the Sex Ed Class. They'd had sex, and yet she seemed inclined to forget all about it, or ignore it, or whatever. There were times where Harry caught her glancing in his direction with a blush on her face, but he'd pretended that he hadn't seen them, and she hadn't made another move on him since that day, unlike the multitude of other girls who'd constantly tried to throw themselves at him.

Harry had been content to ignore what had happened between them at first as well. Now that he'd gotten some… remedial lessons from Aurora and Septima however, it was different. Now he knew more than he'd known before… and there was one thing that continued to stand out to him about that day and his interactions with Hermione.

"Hermione… why did you call me Master that day?"

The brunette freezes for a moment, and then looks at him with a carefully controlled inquisitive expression on her face.

"I'm not sure what you mean Harry. What day?"

Really? She wanted to play dumb? Rolling his eyes, Harry steps forward and just like that, Hermione looks a strange mixture of eager and trapped, her face going red as she becomes flustered at their close proximity.

"You know what I'm talking about Hermione. You called me Master that day in class, when I fucked you and every other witch in that room. You were the only one to do it. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

Her face grows even redder as she swallows thickly.

"That was… it wasn't… it wasn't like I really had a choice Harry. You were, uhm… out of control. I had to a-appease you. It was just a one-off thing, alright?"

The façade is so incredibly obvious. Hermione is lying through her teeth, and Harry can see it in her eyes and in her stance, plain as day. He takes another step towards her, and Hermione leans towards him for half a moment, before belatedly seeming to remember herself. In response, she takes a step back, away from him, towards the wall of the hallway.

There are paintings around of course. Its Hogwarts, and there's always paintings on the wall at Hogwarts. That'd been half the reason Harry hadn't wanted to take every witch who'd propositioned him up on their offers, but now that he knew this sort of thing was fairly normal… Harry ignores the paintings, even as Hermione's eyes dart towards them, seeing the two-dimensional people in the magically enchanted canvases staring at her and him with clear interest.

"H-Harry… Harry what are you d-doing?"

He smirks slightly but doesn't give her a verbal answer. Instead, the young man steps ever closer, until finally Hermione hits the wall and her babbling cuts off. He cuts through the last half-foot of distance between them, pressing his body up against Hermione's, listening as the brunette witch's breath comes out fast and uneven, her panting audible and a delight to his ears.

"Harry…"

His hands come down on her side and Hermione instinctively presses her palms down on his broad chest. But she doesn't try to push him away. Instead, she merely squirms in his grasp as she bites her lower lip and looks up into his eyes, her own filled with a mixture of emotions, showcasing just how uncertain she is in this moment. Finally, Harry speaks, even as he rubs soothing circles into Hermione's hips with his thumbs.

"I don't believe you, Hermione."

Before she can reply, his hands move from her sides to her front, and he begins to pull her robes apart, exposing her blouse and her skirt, done up in Gryffindor colors. Hermione's breath quickens again, and she looks down to watch him as he undoes the buttons on her shirt, right there in the middle of the hall. Whatever she might have said in response to that dies in her throat as his actions grow more and more aggressive.

"I don't buy what you're trying to sell me, not for a moment."

A whimper leaves Hermione's throat when he pulls her unbuttoned blouse apart and grabs at her bra-clad tits. He slowly kneads them, massaging deep into her covered-chest, before eventually slipping his hangs behind her back to undo the clasp on her undergarment. Her perky tits barely fall as he pulls her bra off, but that doesn't mean they aren't still a truly gorgeous pair of breasts.

Harry's tempted to play with them right then and there, tempted to suckle and lick at her nipples, to knead and grope her tits directly. Not yet though. Later. He slips her bra into the pocket of his robes and then begins the process of rebuttoning her blouse back up. For a moment, Hermione actually looks disappointed, but Harry simply leans in and kisses her as he fixes her shirt, his tongue writhing along with hers, his mouth smashing into her soft, full lips aggressively.

Once her blouse is done back up, Harry's hands slip down further. Hermione gasps into his mouth, but he merely continues to kiss her as he moves under her skirt and his fingers find the waistband of her panties. As before, Harry moves a palm into the space between Hermione's soft, creamy-smooth thighs and rubs it up against her covered pussy lips.

She's wet of course, but it's still nice to have confirmation. Harry grins slightly, his green eyes boring into Hermione's dark brown irises as he continues to kiss her, feeling the naughty little slut of a witch squirming and humping against his hand as she moans into his mouth. Ah, but not here. This wasn't where Harry intended to get down to business. This was all just… foreplay.

As such, it was time to bring this little part of his plan to a close. Pulling his palm away, Harry moves his fingers back to the waistband of Hermione's panties. He tugs at her drenched underwear and pulls them down her legs. His tongue leaves her mouth as he slowly moves into a kneeling position, his lips sliding down her chin, onto her blouse and across her sensitive breasts as he moves down the length of her body until he has her panties at her ankles.

His face is right in her crotch, and he can smell her arousal all the better now, even as he looks up into Hermione's conflicted gaze. A single eyebrow lifts, and the brunette witch blushes all the harder, averting her eyes as she slowly lifts one foot and then the other, allowing him to pull her panties off of her entirely.

Straightening back up slowly, Harry has a smug smile on his face as he tucks those away in his robes as well. She'd been wearing a set of crimson underwear that, while not necessarily lingerie, was a bit frillier than he'd been expecting.

"You know Hermione, your bra and panties are a bit more risqué than the kind that a bookworm would be expected to wear. Something you're not telling me?"

Hermione whimpers and shakes her head back and forth.

"I-I just… I d-didn't…"

She trails off, looking like she knows she can't find the excuse for this kind of thing. Harry chuckles and shrugs his shoulders as he hooks his arm into hers and begins to walk her along like a gentleman, instead of the wizard that'd just stripped her of her bra and panties, and even now held her undergarments hostage in his pockets.

"No matter Hermione, no matter. We should really be getting to class. Wouldn't want to be late… well, later. Hopefully there will be a couple seats for us in the back of the room, hm?"

Another whimper from his brunette best friend. Harry can't help but grin all the wider at that. This one probably wasn't only about the sexual connotations though to be fair. Even in Binns' classroom, Hermione liked to sit up front so that she didn't miss anything. To be fair, her intellect and her thirst for knowledge were two of Harry's favorite things about the girl. But she'd be okay spending a History of Magic class in the back with him, just this once.

She wouldn't be hearing much of what Binns had to say, but the ghost professor really did just like to drone on and on about the Goblins and their Revolutions. Harry intended to give Hermione a bit more of a… practical lesson, rather than a lecture. And from what he could tell, he'd been right about her and her true desires. In which case, she'd have quite a lot of fun with this lesson.

-x-X-x-

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