A Wonderful Day To Have A Curse (Patreon)

“Why did it have to coincide with the trip back to Hogwarts?” Hermione thought to herself as she got on the Hogwarts Express and barely suppressed a whimper.

“Hermione, are you alright?” Harry asked.

“Merlin, did his voice ever deepen over the summer,” Hermione thought to herself as she looked back at one of her dearest friends.

“F...fine, Harry,” Hermione said, nearly stopping herself from stuttering. “I just didn’t sleep well last night, is all.”

“You and me both,” Ron grumbled, sounding barely awake. “No offense if I just nod off the second I sit down. Don’t think I got a wink last night.”

“I wondered why it was so quiet,” Harry smirked, referencing Ron’s notorious snoring.

“Sod off, Harry,” Ron snorted, shaking his head.

The three of them didn’t have to search for very long to find an empty compartment, but every step was nearly painful to Hermione. It wasn’t that she had hurt herself or anything, indeed, save for a couple minor scars on her right hip that she got last year, there wasn’t a mark on her, but those particular scars were the cause of her predicament. She still shuddered when she remembered how she’d gotten them.

She could practically hear her heart pounding in her ears as she ran through the Hogwarts grounds, desperately trying to escape from Professor Lupin. This was her first time being directly attacked by a defense professor, for though Quirrell had nearly killed her, that had been indirect and not specifically meant for her. While she knew that it wasn’t entirely her current professor’s fault, she found herself desperately hoping that this would be the last time something like this happened.

Somehow, she doubted it.

“Just a little further,” Harry hissed. “He was distracted by another howl around this time last time.”

“I know thaAAH!” Hermione screamed in pain as she felt something dig into her right hip, slicing clean through her pants.

“Hermione!” Harry screamed, turning and pointing his wand right at Lupin as she faltered.

With his emotions heightened and a drive to protect her his sole focus, Harry didn’t even say a word as a concussive blast rocketed from the tip of his wand and into the feral werewolf, sending him careening back about twenty feet. Hermione looked in shock at the display of power as she struggled to ignore the searing pain in her hip and stay on her feet. That shock turned to horror as Lupin got back up barely a moment later, and she knew that if she was forced to try and run from him again this time, in her hobbled state, she’d be doomed. She was about to beg Harry to run when the howl of a wolf sounded in the distance, just like last time, and Lupin took off in search of it. Buckbeak chose that moment to land near them, and she knew she was safe.

The wound turned out to be a scratch rather than a bite, as she learned when they returned to the infirmary to end a night that had seen them travel through time, rescue Buckbeak and Sirius Black. There had been other highlights as well, such as her punching Malfoy in the face, and Harry driving off a hundred dementors in a brilliant display of magic. If not for Lupin’s happening to stumble across them in the aftermath of that, something that turned out even worse than when they’d had to flee from him in the first timeline, it would have gone flawlessly.

Madam Pomfrey had made it clear that, as she was not bitten, she wasn’t going to have to worry about becoming a werewolf herself, but she would still likely experience some changes. She had posited that she might end up liking her steak a little rarer than she had before, or developing a heightened sense of smell. What she absolutely did not mention was that she was going to, for the rest of her life, go through every full moon unfathomably horny.

“Hermione?” Harry asked, breaking her out of her reverie.

“I’m sorry?” Hermione asked.

“I asked if you wanted me to put your trunk up for you,” Harry repeated.

“Oh, sure, thank you,” Hermione said, gingerly sitting down in the nearest seat and trying to ignore the throbbing in her core.

Watching Harry effortlessly lift up her trunk to store it in the enchanted luggage compartment overhead did not help her. She had always thought that Harry was cute. With his boyish good looks, startlingly brilliant eyes, and general earnestness, it was hard not to think of him as fanciful. She had never thought of him as hot before, though, and he seemed to have done everything he could over the summer to make it impossible for her to think anything else.

The fact that he had shot up a good half foot was a factor, but he had also clearly taken up intensive exercise, and it had taken all of Hermione’s willpower to let him go when she hugged him upon seeing him at the Burrow and felt just how solid and muscular he seemed. He had also smelled distinctly of female arousal, not strongly enough to suggest that he hadn’t even washed himself off afterward, but enough that her new senses could pick it up. He was tall, masculine, and apparently sexually active, and all Hermione had wanted to do in that moment was let him bend her over and make her his bitch right there, Weasleys be damned. It hadn’t even been a full moon; he had just become that maddeningly attractive, and as she suffered through the full effects of her change now, she had no idea how she was going to make it through an entire train ride with him without getting on her knees and begging to suck his cock.

“You made that look easy,” Hermione commented as she sat back down, having placed both of their things up there effortlessly.

“Neither one was that heavy,” Harry said dismissively.

“We both know that’s a lie,” Hermione said, and she nearly gasped as his eyes bore into hers. “They’re just so green.”

“I...er, started working out regularly over the summer,” Harry said awkwardly.

“Well, it clearly worked,” Hermione said, smiling, shifting slightly in her seat, and suppressing a whimper as her thighs rubbed together.

Harry wasn’t the only one who had changed over the summer. Hermione didn’t know if it was due to her partial werewolf infection or not, but she had filled out a great deal. Part of why walking was so painful for her was that her thighs had thickened, and any time they brushed against each other, she felt it right in her dripping cunt. She didn’t even bother wearing underwear during the full moon after the first, both because any panties she wore became quickly ruined and because it was almost impossible not to moan when anything touched her overheated sex. She’d had to sew runes into her long skirts to draw away and absorb any liquid that came near the fabric to keep it from dripping all over the floor as she walked.

“I just hope it’s enough,” Harry said darkly.

“Enough?” Hermione asked, furrowing her brow at his sudden mood swing.

“I...it’s nothing,” Harry said.

“No, clearly something’s bothering you,” Hermione argued. “You can talk to…”

She was cut off by the sudden sound of chainsaws, which began to echo through the room.

“Dear Lord, he’s that bad?” Hermione asked in shock. “How do any of you sleep?”

“You get used to it,” Harry said.

“His future wife will have to,” Hermione chuckled, shaking her head. “This does put us in a bit of a predicament, though. If we keep talking over him, we might wake him, and he’s clearly exhausted.”

“I might have a solution for that,” Harry said, getting up.

He reached up and pulled his trunk from the luggage compartment, setting it down between their seats. He opened it and revealed something that made Hermione’s eyes go wide.

“You got an expanded one?” she asked.

“Yes,” Harry replied. “My old one was starting to show its age, and when I went looking for a new one while we were in Diagon Alley, the shopkeeper sold me on this. It has a whole room inside it, and we can talk without disturbing Ron.”

Spending the entire ride alone with Harry, in a room where no one could see what they were doing sounded marvelous for all the wrong reasons, and, with the moon full, even during the day, Hermione wasn’t strong enough to say anything other than, “That sounds great.”

She quickly drew her wand and locked the door to their compartment, placing a minor compulsion on it that would convince anyone who touched it to leave the people inside alone as well.

“It’ll spare us our annual visit from Malfoy at any rate,” Harry said, making her laugh. Handing her a bit of parchment and an enchanted quill, he said, “Could you write Ron a note letting him know where we went? Your writing’s better than mine.”

“Sure, Harry,” Hermione said, taking them and jotting down a quick note.

Harry and I went into his trunk to let you sleep in peace. Please knock before entering. I don’t know what enchantments are on it.

She folded that up and set on Ron’s lap. The bit about knocking had less to do with fear of enchantments and more to do with what a small but very vocal part of her hoped would come of spending time locked alone with her handsome friend. She knew logically that it was unlikely, as Harry had never once expressed interest in her, but the logical part of her brain was not in control at the moment. She was starting to worry that she’d have trouble concentrating during classes when she got like this.

As she climbed down the ladder into the main room of the trunk, she felt her thighs rub together and cursed her hyper-charged libido. She was so turned on, so terribly wet, that she knew it would only take the slightest touch to get her off, and as she focused on that, she missed a step and slipped.

“Ah!” Hermione cried as she landed. It wasn’t far, but she landed awkwardly, and she felt a sharp pain in her left ankle.

“Mione!” Harry exclaimed as he rushed to her.

“Ah...it’s fine,” Hermione said, hopping over to a nearby chair.

“Do you think you broke something?” Harry asked.

“Only if my bones are made of glass,” Hermione said, wincing as she sat down. “At most, I sprained something, and even that’s unlikely.”

“Well, let me take a look at it,” Harry said.

With a wave of his wand, another chair came over, and he sat down right in front of her, holding his hands out expectantly. The look on his face was so authoritative, as if he were outright commanding her to place her foot in his hands, and Hermione felt her pussy flutter as she obeyed. Over the course of the summer, she endured a couple full moons and spent a good seventy-two hours each time hornier than she’d ever been in her life.

Much of that time had been spent in bed, stripped down, and playing with her dripping pussy as she tried desperately to find relief. Her fantasies during these masturbation sessions had been more vivid than any she’d ever experienced and over time, they became focused on a very particular fetish. She had never been particularly submissive before, or if she was, she hadn’t realized it yet, but since being scratched by Lupin, nothing got her off as quickly as imagining herself submitting to a large, powerful man and letting him ravage her body while she pumped her fingers in and out of her sopping cunt.

As Harry told her to give him her foot in his deep, booming voice, his tone utterly commanding and his expression matching it perfectly, she knew that even if nothing happened between them, he was going to star in her fantasies tonight as she frigged herself silly.

“Good girl,” Harry said as she placed her foot in his hands, and she moaned. His eyes snapped to hers, and she wished for a moment that the earth would swallow her whole until he said, “This might really hurt.”

“Uh, yeah,” Hermione said, as her face grew hot.

He removed her shoe, setting it down on the floor next to him, and then pulled her knee-high sock off.

“His hands are so large,” she thought to herself.

“Hmm,” Harry said as he ghosted his fingers over her ankle, “there’s already a little swelling.”

“I’ll go to Madam Pomfrey after the welcoming feast,” Hermione said.

“No need,” Harry said, pulling out his wand. He summoned a jar of what she recognized as bruise-removal paste, and it was at that moment that Hermione realized something she hadn’t before.

“You’re doing that wordlessly,” she commented.

“I learned over the summer,” Harry said, placing his wand down and scooping out a little of the paste.

“How?” Hermione asked. “Not only is wordless casting rather advanced, but you can’t do magic over the holidays.”

“I bought a couple books on it and did the focusing exercises that they recommended,” Harry said. “Spellcasting largely comes down to focus, and the words and wand movements are partially to help us focus on the spell. Once you become better at that, both become less necessary.”

“I don’t suppose that you’d let me borrow those books?” Hermione asked, giving him her best pleading eyes.

“Like you even need to ask,” Harry chuckled as he started working the past into her bruised ankle. “I don’t think anything’s broken, so this should be enough. We’ll know by the time we get there either way.”

“Right,” Hermione grunted, wincing as he worked the magical paste into her skin. It hurt, but the more he did it, the better it got. “I take it you were busy this summer.”

“Very,” Harry said. “It occurred to me that, for a guy whose life is in constant danger, I’ve been rather negligent in my studies.”

“You won’t hear me complain about you studying more,” Hermione said, sighing as his hands on her started to feel good.

The pain had snapped her out of her lustful fog, and as it dissipated, she became more aware of the fact that her foot was in the lap of a seriously gorgeous young man.

“I should have listened to you,” Harry sighed as he finished applying the paste. To her surprise, he didn’t stop touching her as he finished, but moved down to her foot and started gently massaging it as he said, “I’m going to need your help, actually.”

“Oh Merlin, that feels good,” Hermione sighed. “Keep that up, and I’ll do anything for you.”

“So foot rubs are the way to your heart, huh?” Harry asked teasingly.

Hermione’s grip on the armrests tightened as she felt her pussy throb. His teasing words, the look in his eye, and just how good his hands felt on her were almost too much to bear.

Rather than reply to that question, she asked, “what do you need?”

“I want to switch to drop divination and switch to Arithmancy and Ancient Runes,” Harry said.

“Really?” Hermione asked in surprise. “You’ll have to speak to Professor McGonagall.”

“I wrote to her,” Harry said, “and to Professors Vector and Sinistra as well. Professor McGonagall left it in their hands, and they said that if I studied over the summer and worked hard, I might be able to catch up by mid-year.”

“Why the sudden interest?” Hermione asked, feeling like she was looking a gift horse in the mouth, but unable to stop herself.

“Like I said, I’ve been neglectful,” Harry said. “I end up in danger every year and didn’t even make it to Hogwarts before I got into shit this year. I’m not the only one who ends up in danger either.”

“Harry, is this about what happened to me?” Hermione asked, taken aback by the guilt in his voice.

“You could have died,” Harry snarled. “We both could have died that night and on multiple nights before. I need to be better than I am, stronger, and I’m a bloody wizard. Studying magic and getting better at it is how I’ll get stronger.”

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione sighed. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, but I couldn’t stop you from getting hurt either,” Harry said. “What would have happened if you’d been bitten? Would they have even let you come back? I can’t lose you, Hermione.”

Hermione felt her heart skip a beat at the affection and love in his eyes.

“S...so all of this, the working out, the studying, was to make yourself stronger so you could protect us?” she asked.

“Can’t say it didn’t work either,” Harry said. “When those death eaters attacked, I was able to overwhelm them quickly. Granted, I doubt any of them had seen combat since the war, and they were clearly taken aback by any resistance, but I still managed to take them down.”

“I’m amazed that the ministry didn’t even try to give you a hard time,” Hermione commented.

“I think they realized that trying to punish Harry Potter for fighting death eaters would have been as popular with the public as syphilis,” Harry quipped. “Beyond that, though, I think that it was that other guy I took down who was the issue.”

“Oh?” Hermione asked.

“I stunned him when he tried to grab one of the death eater’s wands, and do you remember the ministry guy with the really unfortunate mustache?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “he was the one who looked pale as a sheet when we found you.”

“Well, apparently he resigned not long after the attack, and that random hooded guy was given the dementor’s kiss,” Harry said. “The others are going on trial, and I’ll have to testify in a couple months. It was when they told me about that, that I found out about what happened to the other one.”

“Hmm,” Hermione said, “that’s weird.”

“Very,” Harry said, “but my point is that I’ve already improved. It wasn’t like that night in the woods, or the chamber, or when I confronted Quirrell. This stuff isn’t going to stop happening ,and I refuse to let anyone else get hurt if I can help it. So, will you help me catch up in those classes?”

“Of course, Harry,” Hermione said.

“I’m surprised that you didn’t try and get another foot massage out of it,” Harry said teasingly.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no to you doing the other one too,” Hermione said, lifting up her leg and placing the other foot on his lap.

Harry went still, and she swore that she saw his pupils widen a bit, but he quickly recovered and said, “o...of course.”

He removed her other shoe and sock and started kneading her foot with his thumbs. It felt so good, and the fact that it was Harry of the guys doing it made it even better.

“You’re very good at that,” Hermione sighed.

“I’m just doing what feels natural,” Harry said.

“A natural masseur and increasingly fit,” Hermione mused with a grin, “the girls back in Surrey must have noticed you.”

“I…” Harry cut himself, looking like he didn’t know how to respond to that.

“You can tell me anything, Harry,” Hermione said. She remembered smelling the faint hint of vaginal fluids on him when he first got to the Burrow and knew that he had to have had some carnal adventures this summer.

“There was...a girl,” Harry said.

“A girl or a girlfriend?” Hermione asked softly.

“Just a...I was going to say just a friend, but we aren’t even that,” Harry said. “My relatives told those who asked that I had been sent to St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys.”

“Why in the world would they do that?” Hermione asked. “Is that even a Saint Brutus? I know the Catholics have tons of them, but I’ve never heard of any by that name.”

“It’s the sort of lie they’d come up with, and I have no idea,” Harry said. “The place might not even exist for all I know. All I do know is that telling everyone who would listen that I was an incurable criminal had some...benefits that I could never have imagined.”

“Oh?” Hermione asked.

“There’s this girl who lives a few houses down the street from the Dursleys, named Beth,” Harry said, “and she found the idea...appealing.”

“Some girls do love bad boys,” Hermione said.

“She’s one of them,” Harry said. “The fact that she found me shirtless and working in the yard might have helped, but she approached me out of the blue and started asking about St. Brutus’s. I lied as best as I could, throwing in a few neutral details about Hogwarts to make it easier. When she asked how I managed to get by in an all-boys environment for so long and complimented me on my muscles, even feeling up my bicep, well, I might be a bit thick when it comes to girls, but I’m not that thick. I chatted her up, and the next thing I knew, she was inviting me back to her place to hang out before her dad got back.”

Hermione experienced a strange case of confusion about her own feelings. This was a guy she fancied telling her about his short-lived relationship with another girl, a relationship that she knew turned sexual. She would have expected to feel envious, at least a little, but instead all she felt was arousal. Whether it was the werewolf scratches or not, she didn’t know, but she did know that Harry’s prior experiences made him even more attractive to her. She felt her arousal drip down across her arsehole and nearly moaned at the feeling.

Still massaging her feet in a way that was also adding to the increasing pressure in her core, Harry continued, “It turns out that the idea of a guy her dad would never approve of really, uh, worked for her, especially given that I’d be gone before long, and soon enough, we were making out in her bed. Um, are you seriously okay with…”

“Please!” Hermione exclaimed, “I mean, yes, go on.”

“We, um, ended up going all the way, actually,” Harry said, furrowing his brow in confusion. “After that, I was going over almost daily, and Beth ended up telling her best friends Ella and Rachel about me. They grew so curious that they approached me as well, so by the time I got Mrs. Weasley’s invitation, I had been seeing all three of them casually for weeks.”

“God, he’s such a stud,” Hermione thought to herself, her mind wandering to the point that she couldn’t really hear what he was saying any more.

In her mind’s eye, he was a dominant and demanding lover who had turned all three of them into mewling, sweat-drenched, glassy-eyed wrecks every time he took them. No wonder he still smelled like cunt when she hugged him. She regretted letting him go at all and wished that she had sank to her knees and cleaned his cock properly with her tongue. She could have offered to be his little bitch, his little fucktoy, his little three-hole pet. Merlin’s balls, she wanted nothing more than for him bend her over and split her two with his massive cock.

“Ahh!” Hermione cried out as she came, writhing and convulsing in her chair as ecstasy surged through her body.

In the distance of her mind, she knew that she should be mortified for some reason, but in that moment, all she knew was pleasure and a momentary break from the all-consuming need that had taken over her mind. She collapsed in the chair, panting for breath, and only as she opened her eyes did she realize why she should have been embarrassed. Sitting across from her, staring slackjawed, was her best friend in all the world.

“Oh no,” Hermione panted, her whole face going bright red.

“Did you…” Harry went to ask.

Hermione had pulled her feet out of his lap as she came, and as her fight or flight instincts won out, she turned to run, only to be caught by him before she even got fully out of the chair.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Harry commanded, his hot breath on her ear as he held her flush against him.

With her back to his strong, muscled chest and her arse pressed against what felt like a very large bulge, she shuddered and said, “it’s the scratches.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“As a side effect of the scratches, when the moon is full, I spend the full three days horrifically aroused,” Hermione whimpered.

Harry spun her around, and she looked up into his eyes, which were so much darker than normal, wanting nothing more than to pull him down to snog the daylights out of her.

“What?” he asked again.

“I’m horny, damn it!” Hermione snapped. “I’m panties-ruining, can barely even think straight horny!”

The look of hunger that Harry gave her in that moment made her feel weak at the knees, and she wanted nothing more than for him to just take her.

“Is that why you’re not wearing any panties?” Harry asked, his voice low and rumbling.

Hermione just squeaked, her eyes going wide.

“I thought that I was seeing things or that you were wearing flesh-colored underwear when you put your other foot in my lap and flashed me for a second,” Harry said, and Hermione began panting with need. “You’re really not wearing anything under that skirt, though, are you?”

“I...I can’t,” Hermione stammered, frozen in place. “Any pressure on my...my…”

“Say the word,” Harry rumbled.

“...my vagina is too much,” Hermione finished, her body shaking.

“Clearly,” Harry said. “Even a foot massage was too much.”

“It wasn’t the massage,” Hermione whimpered. “It was the story. The idea of you making those girls into your personal sluts was too arousing for words.”

“Is that what you want?” Harry asked, a feral grin on his face as he took a step closer. Leaning in, he whispered into her ear, “Do you want to be my personal slut?”

“Yes!” Hermione exclaimed, and he was on her in an instant.

His lips captured hers in a searing-hot kiss, and she froze. The Hermione from before that night in the woods fantasized about her first kiss being a tender and romantic thing. Hermione, as she was then, wanted nothing of the sort, and Harry seemed to be perfectly in tune with what she needed. His kiss was passionate, domineering, and everything her inner submissive craved. His tongue plunged into her mouth, and she caressed it with her own eagerly. She melted into his embrace, pressing herself flush against his body, and reached down to feel up his cock through his pants, making him groan.

“You’re such a bad girl,” Harry growled, and she swore that she nearly came again.

“Then punish me,” Hermione moaned.

“Is that what you want?” Harry asked.

“I want to be yours,” Hermione moaned.

He gathered her bushy hair with his hand and pulled back gently to expose her neck. Running his tongue up the slender column, he paused by her ear and said, “You already are.”

A shudder went through her entire body as his words further inflamed her passions. He grabbed his wand and transfigured a small table and the chair he’d been sitting in into a bed. She took the opportunity to pull his shirt out of his pants and rip it open, revealing his deliciously strong-looking body. He had a swimmer’s build, wiry rather than bulky, but he already had the beginnings of abs, and she found herself wanting to lick every nascent muscle. When she reached for his belt, he grabbed her hands.

“Strip first, and I’ll show you my cock,” Harry said.

“Harry,” Hermione whined.

“Be a good girl for me,” Harry said.

Hermione shivered and removed her blouse so quickly she nearly ripped it; her bra quickly followed as Harry chuckled at her obvious enthusiasm. She knew that a slower, more sensual strip show would have been sexier, but she was too turned on to consider such things. As her skirt fell to the floor, Harry groaned at the sight of her.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, his eyes raking over her entire body from head to toe.

“I…” Hermione trailed off at the obvious desire in his eyes.

She knew that she looked better than she used to, with her teeth fixed and her body having filled out a fair bit, but she was not used to the idea of being thought of as beautiful. The look on Harry’s face was not the look of a man who was lying or even exaggerating, though.

“For the record, this isn’t the first time I’ve thought so,” Harry said, walking up to her. “I’m not just saying it because you’re naked, though; fuck me, your body is incredible.”

“It’s yours,” Hermione breathed, gasping as he cupped one of her sizable breasts.

“Of course it is,” Harry grinned. “Every inch of you belongs to me.”

Hermione whimpered, certain that if she got any hotter, she was going to catch fire. “Every hole too.”

“What?” Harry asked, his confident demeanor faltering due to shock.

“Harry, I can barely think straight, I’m so horny,” Hermione said. “My thighs are soaked with my fluids and I can’t even wear panties for fear of the fabric making me cum. I’ve looked into libido suppressing potions, and the side effects are not pleasant, to say the least. If you can help me, if you can...satisfy me enough to function like a normal person, I will let you do anything you want to me.”

“Fuck, Hermione,” Harry groaned.

“That’s the idea,” Hermione smirked, sinking to her knees. “Now, let’s see if this really is as impressive as it felt.”

She undid his belt and fly and without hesitating another moment, pulled his pants down, only to be smacked right across the face. Her jaw dropped as she took in the sight of his turgid cock standing straight across her face.

“That’s why I figured that anal wouldn’t be on the table,” Harry sighed. “None of the others even mentioned it.”

He was huge, bigger than she ever imagined, and so gloriously thick. She couldn’t help but compare it to her forearm, holding it up against his abs and moaning at how close it really was. This thing was going to split her in half, and she shivered at the errant thought that she might never be the same again once he’d fucked her. The girl she was before Professor Lupin scratched her would have feared this beast of a cock, but the last thing Hermione felt in that moment was fear.

“How did the others react to seeing this?” Hermione asked as she wrapped her hand around it. “Merlin, my fingers don’t even touch.”

“Feeling how big I am is what turned my makeout session with Beth into sex,” Harry said. “The others already knew, and my size was part of why they came to me.”

“I can understand that,” Hermione whispered, cupping his balls and groaning as she realized that even they were bigger than what she knew to be normal. She leaned in and gave his bulbous head a wet kiss, making his breath hitch.

“I can’t believe you’re on your knees for me,” Harry said in awe.

“Get used to it,” Hermione said, wrapping her other hand around him and continuing to pepper the glans with kisses. “I could smell them on you, you know.”

“Huh?” Harry asked.

“When you arrived at the Burrow and I hugged you, I smelled a hint of pussy,” Hermione explained. “If the moon had been full that day, I don’t know if I could have stopped myself from cornering you the first chance I got and offering to lick your cock clean.”

“Fucking hell!” Harry groaned as she took the first couple inches of his girth between her lips.

His hands flew to her head and the mental image of him fucking her throat made her moan around him. She wasn’t ready for that, she knew, but she hoped that she would be some day. At the very least, she intended to get a great deal of practice in at this.

“Teeth!” Harry gasped as she accidentally grazed him.

“Sorry,” Hermione said, before taking him back inside her hot little mouth.

If he were smaller, that might not be as difficult, as he certainly wouldn’t have filled her mouth quite as much, but she was still able to stop herself from grazing him again. She moved slowly, getting herself acclimated to the feeling of the weight of him on her tongue and wary of taking him too deep. She reached between her legs and used her copious wetness to make her hand slick. She then brought it back to his cock and started stroking the lower half. When she hollowed out her cheeks and started sucking on him, his knees buckled, and he cried out.

“How the fuck is this your first time?” Harry asked rhetorically, making her feel proud.

Hermione knew the basics of fellatio: tease the underside with her tongue, suck enthusiastically, mind the teeth, try not to choke, etc. The rest, she figured, would come with paying attention to him and practicing often. The look on his face would have made it worthwhile even if she wasn’t enjoying herself, and she was enjoying herself. The look of pleasure on his face and the moans and groans he was letting out were making her pussy throb. If this went on much longer, she feared that she was the one who was going to cum.

“Enough,” Harry groaned, pulling his cock from her mouth. It slipped out with an audible pop, and Hermione moaned at the loss. “Fucking hell, woman.”

Hermione preened at the praise in those three simple words and giggled.

“You’re like this three days a month now?” Harry asked, his mind clearly racing with possibilities.

“Mmhmm,” Hermione replied as she stood up. Leaning in, she whispered, “Of course, I’m mindlessly horny for three days a month now, but my libido has gotten a significant boost in general. If only I had someone who could help me out with that.”

“Your ankle’s feeling better, right?” Harry asked.

“Uh, yes, actually,” Hermione said. “Why?”

“I just want to make sure that when you limp into the castle in a few hours, it’ll have nothing to do with the ankle,” Harry said.

Before Hermione could even moan at that, he had pulled her in and was snogging her fiercely. With his slick cock pressed against her belly, he turned her around and pushed her onto the bed. She cried out when he broke the kiss and started peppering her neck with his searching lips. Squirming in his arms, she moaned loudly when he kissed her pulse point.

“Good thing this place is sound-proof,” Harry chuckled.

“Planning to make me scream?” Hermione asked challengingly.

“Oh, you’ll scream for me,” Harry replied, making her shudder.

He cupped her breasts, bringing one of her pebbled nipples to his mouth, and wrapped her lips around it. Her knees buckled at the pleasure, and she stumbled back against the bed, sitting down and grabbing the sheets on either side of her. Harry went with her, snorting softly at her reaction to the simple stimulation, and switched to her other nipple. His large hands kneaded her sensitive mounds, and he licked, kissed, and sucked on her nipples, switching back and forth. Her hands went to her head, and she moaned aloud as he continued to do his best to drive her mad.

“Please, fuck me!” Hermione begged. “Please, I need it so much!”

“I’m going to fuck you,” Harry said, his voice low and thick with the promise of sin, “but first, I’m going to taste you.”

He kissed his way down along her flat but soft stomach, and Hermione’s eyes nearly crossed when she felt his hot breath on her pussy.

“You don’t need to…” Hermione went to say.

“You’re mine, remember?” Harry asked, his green eyes dark with lust.

“Yes,” Hermione breathed.

“So, if I want to taste every inch of your gorgeous body, I can, right?” Harry asked.

“Ye...yes!” Hermione gasped, her mind racing with the possibilities his words put in it.

“I must say, I expected a bush,” Harry commented.

“I used to,” Hermione said, “but I honestly prefer it like this. I can grow it back out if you want.”

“No, that’s okay,” Harry said. “I like being able to see your pretty pussy like this.”

Hermione whimpered, and that whimper turned into a strangled cry as Harry swiped his tongue up through her fleshy folds. He avoided her clit entirely, almost certainly by choice, and began to languidly lap at her slick nether lips. Hermione was in a state of tortured bliss as he took his time with her. She was already close and knew that the slightest stimulation of one of her more sensitive spots would send her careening over the edge, but Harry seemed to know that too.

“More, higher, please!” she babbled.

“So desperate,” Harry murmured, grinning at her. “You know, there was one thing that I wanted to try with the others that I knew I wouldn’t be able to.”

“What?” Hermione asked.

“I got the idea when Rachel had me hold a vibrator to her clit while I fucked her,” Harry continued, “but I knew that I’d never be able to explain how I did it to muggles.”

Hermione just cocked her head and furrowed her brow, not quite getting what he was referring to. Harry lowered his head back towards her pussy and gave it a long lick. As he reached her clit, though, not only did he lick it as well, he hissed, speaking in parseltongue and making his tongue vibrate against her. Hermione had only a second to comprehend what he was doing before pleasure, beyond anything she’d ever dreamed of, rocked through her body.

“AAAHHH! She screamed at the top of her lungs, her thighs clamping around his head and her back arching off of the bed as her orgasm hit like a freight train.

She had gotten herself off many times through the years, seeing self pleasure as a perfectly natural and good thing. Not one of her previous orgasms held a candle to what she experienced in that moment. She was drowning in ecstasy, swept up in a maelstrom that she could barely fathom as wave after wave of mind-melting pleasure thundered through her.

It went on and on, and if Hermione had even a fraction of her usual mental faculties available, she might have realized that it was going on far longer than any single orgasm possibly could. Her mind was elsewhere, however, utterly occupied by the pleasure that was rocking her very soul. Her vision had gone white from the start, and as it went on, her other senses were slowly taken from her until all that she was blissful. When it finally ended, she barely noticed, still floating on a sea of light as her entire body felt boneless.

“Mione?” she heard a voice in the distance ask. “Hermione!”

Her eyes fluttered open, and though her vision was still blurred by tears, she beheld a beautiful boy with the most startling green eyes and giggled at how worried he looked. What could there possibly be to worry about?

“Hermione, can you hear me?” the boy asked.

“Huh?” she asked, blinking the last of her unshed tears away. “Harry?”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Harry sighed.

Hermione stretched her arms over her head, feeling more relaxed than ever in her life, and as her perception of reality slowly returned to her, she realized that she actually felt satisfied instead of horny.

“Wow!” she exclaimed softly.

“I think that I might have gone overboard a bit,” Harry said sheepishly, and Hermione only then noticed just how wet his face looked.

“Harry, that was the greatest thing I’ve ever felt in my life,” she said, chuckling softly. “I can actually think straight, not that I think it will last too long. I feel normal, save for a lingering floating feeling, in a way that I haven’t since yesterday.”

“Your moon issue started today?” Harry asked.

“The actual full moon is tomorrow,” Hermione explained, “but I feel this for the day before and after as well. I had wondered if my libido would just disappear during the new moon, but it’s only the full moon that has any effect. Do you want to speak more about the moon, or do you want to fuck me?”

Harry groaned and kissed her, sliding a hand up along her side to cup one of her breasts. When she felt the thick, bulbous head of his cock press against her pussy, she moaned into his mouth. Reaching down, he grabbed his cock and gathered some of her copious wetness on the head before lining himself up.

“Do it,” Hermione whispered, reaching up and raking her nails gently through his hair. “Fuck me, Harry.”

Harry looked down at her in awe, as though he couldn’t believe what was happening, before pushing forward.

“Oh!” Hermione gasped, clinging to him as the feeling of being stretched open overwhelmed her. “Oh, Harry, you’re so big!”

“Fucking hell, you’re tight,” Harry groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“Ke...keep going,” Hermione whimpered. “I broke my hymen years ago, and you feel so good!”

He pushed forward, making her grunt, and held there for a moment. Pulling a little of his cock from her clinging depths, he pushed forward again, conquering even more of her tight tunnel. Hermione screwed her eyes shut as he continued to bury more and more of his mammoth member inside her. Moaning, whimpering, and grunting her way through, she didn’t even think of telling him to slow down. It burned a little as she was stretched to what had to be her absolute limits, but as wet as she was, he managed to enter her easily enough, and before long, she felt his large balls resting against her plump arse.

“So good,” Harry panted, brushing her hair out of her face and gazing down at her. There was such adoration in his eyes that Hermione nearly cried at the sight.

“You’re so deep,” she moaned. “Your cock is amazing.”

“Just let me know when you’re ready,” Harry said.

“Harry, if I get any more ready, I might flood this room,” Hermione quipped. “Fuck me.”

“Fucking hell,” Harry swore as he pulled most of his cock from her pussy. Her tight inner walls clung to him hard, as though they wanted him to leave as little as she did.

“Yes!” Hermione cried as he thrust back inside hard, spearing her depths wide open again.

He built up to a steady rhythm quickly, showing his prior experience, and Hermione reached behind her head to grab at the bedding, already overwhelmed by just how incredible it felt.

“So full!” she cried, throwing her head back in pleasure. “Fuck, I love how good you feel.”

“I don’t know what’s more shocking,” Harry said, “that we’re doing this, or that you’re swearing.”

Hermione laughed and kissed him, wrapping her legs more tightly around him. She never wanted him to leave, and she knew that she was going to feel terribly empty when he finally spent himself inside her and pulled out.

“Harder!” she snarled. “I can take it.”

Harry picked up his pace, fucking her hard enough that her breasts began to roll and jiggle across her chest. They drew his eye quickly, and she would have laughed at how hypnotized he looked if not for how close she already was to her climax.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Hermione cried. “Just like that, just like…”

She cut herself off, and a keening wail escaped her lips as he hit something deep inside her that felt bloody amazing.

“Right there!” she screamed.

“Can’t believe we’re doing this,” Harry groaned. “Wanted you for so long.”

Her eyes widened at his words, and between the raw emotion in his eyes and him hitting that wonderful spot inside her again, her orgasm hit suddenly and powerfully.

“HARRY!” she shrieked as she came, her tight tunnel spasming around his length.

“Holy fuck!” Harry groaned, struggling to maintain his pace.

Hermione’s nails raked down his back as her orgasm continued. It wasn’t as soul-shattering as what she’d experienced under his serpent tongue, but cumming with his cock inside her was incredible in its own way. As it finally passed, she collapsed on her back, staring up at him in awe and wonder.

“So...good,” she panted.

“There’s more where that came from,” Harry smirked, and it was only then that she realized that he was still fucking her.

“You didn’t…” she tried to ask as she panted for breath.

“I’m nowhere near done with you,” Harry growled, and Hermione swore she felt every word in her core. “For your first couple full moons, how did you deal with this?”

“I...er…” Hermione stuttered.

“Hermione, I’m balls deep inside you; you can talk to me about sex,” Harry chuckled, making her laugh.

“I masturbated,” Hermione finally said. “My parents were both at work during both full moons, so I spent almost the entire three days in bed just fucking myself senseless.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned, and Hermione felt his cock throb inside her at the imagery.

“What did you imagine?” Harry asked.

“A large, handsome man, much like you, fucking my brains out,” Hermione replied cheekily.

“How so?” Harry asked, his voice deepened by desire.

“U...usually on my hands and knees,” Hermione stuttered, feeling her pussy flutter around his length at the wicked grin he got on his face.

“Like a bitch in heat?” Harry asked, grinning.

Hermione’s breath hitched, and her eyes widened. She moaned at the loss as he pulled out of her and gasped as he flipped her over. Lying on her belly, with him hovering over her, she felt already like she was under his power and the thought made her shake with raw desire.

“On your knees,” Harry growled in her ear, and she scrambled to get up. Palming the round cheeks, her bottom, he whistled and said, “Fuck, you have an amazing arse.”

“I’ve thought it was too big for a while,” Hermione admitted.

“Nonsense,” Harry said. “It might be big, yes, but it’s incredibly firm. It must be from carrying heavy books up all those stairs.”

Hermione couldn’t help but smile at his clear appreciation for her body. While he hadn’t exactly been subtle about that since she undressed, it was still nice to hear. The way that he was kneading her arsecheeks felt nice too, but it wasn’t what she wanted.

“Harry!” she whined.

“I guess I’ll have to explore your arse later,” Harry sighed dramatically, making her giggle. “That’s not what you need, and you’ve been such a good girl for me today.”

“Fuck me, please,” Hermione begged, shaking her arse enticingly at him.

“So needy,” Harry said as he lined himself up with her dripping quim. “Luckily, I’m here for you.”

“Thank you!” Hermione cried as he pushed forward, burying himself to the hilt inside her sweltering depths in one thrust.

“This,” Harry groaned, “isn’t something you need to thank me for.”

They both laughed at that, and Harry wasted no time at all, building up to the same rough pace he’d taken her at before. Soon the room was filled with the sound of his hips slapping against her arse, drowned out only by her moans.

“Fucking hell, I hope you like this position,” Harry groaned, “because watching your arse jiggle like this is amazing.”

“I do,” Hermione cried, gripping the sheets in front of her so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “Don’t stop!”

Harry’s grip on her hips tightened, and he started fucking her harder and faster, pounding her pussy. His every brutal thrust made her see stars, and soon she was rocking back against him, matching his rhythm perfectly.

“More, more, more, more!” she cried as she soared towards her peak.

“You’re going to feel my cock for hours after I’m done with you,” Harry snarled. “All night long, you’re going to feel sore and satisfied.”

“I don’t know if I can even be satisfied,” Hermione whined. Turning to look back at him, she grinned and added, “I might have to come join you tonight.”

“We might be able to do that if we charmed the bed curtains shut,” Harry said. “Wouldn’t want to give the others a show now.”

“Let them watch!” Hermione cried. “Let them all see who owns my body!”

Harry growled and grabbed a handful of her bushy hair. Pulling back without pausing his thrusts for a second, he snarled, “No one gets to see your body but me.”

His possessiveness made her core clench just as much as having her hair pulled, and she cried, “Yes, Harry! Only you can see me, only you can have me, FUCK!”

Hermione collapsed forward as her orgasm hit her hard. Harry’s grip on her hair was the only thing holding her up, and he quickly pushed her down until she was lying prone and started fucking her into the bed. She squealed with every rough thrust as he fucked her through her orgasm, prolonging and intensifying her pleasure.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you before we leave this train,” he promised her. “You’re going to crave my cock like you crave air!”

“YES!” Hermione screamed, still in the throes of her pleasure. He was hitting another spot deep inside her that was driving her wild, and his every thrust seemed to make everything even more intense.

“So fucking good,” Harry groaned as his thrusts became more erratic. “Mione, I’m gonna cum!”

The thought of him cumming inside her was, in that moment, the hottest thing Hermione had ever imagined, and, as her orgasm ended, she remained plateaued at the edge of another.

“Inside!” she screamed. “Come inside me, please!”

“Fuck,” Harry groaned in her ear, letting go and filling her to the brim with his cum.

His orgasm triggered another in her, and as he collapsed forward, Hermione let out a wordless scream of pleasure, writhing and convulsing in his arms as she squirted all over the bed. The two of them rode out the waves of ecstasy together and then collapsed, with Harry barely managing to hold himself up on his forearms. Covered by his warmth and weight, and having cum multiple times over however long they had been at it, Hermione felt more relaxed than she could ever remember being. She closed her eyes and thought that she might drift off, but the sudden feeling of emptiness she felt as he pulled out of her and rolled over jolted her awake.

“Merlin’s balls!” Harry gasped as he stared at the ceiling of the trunk and panted for breath.

“Better than...your muggle girls?” Hermione panted.

Harry pulled her in and kissed her forehead as he wrapped his arms around her, saying, “Much better.”

Hermione snuggled into his chest and basked in the afterglow as he lazily ran his hands down her back. After a couple minutes of this, his fingers came across the scars on her hip and paused. She looked up to see him frowning.

“I guess they are rather unsightly,” she said, swallowing thickly.

“What?” Harry asked. “I don’t mind the look of them. I just hate that they happened in the first place.”

He moved down along the bed and pressed his lips against the scars, kissing both of them as he stared up at her. Hermione smiled widely and rolled onto her back, stretching her arms over her head.

“I can’t say that they did have their upside,” Hermione said, grinning lasciviously at him.

Harry just snorted at that, and Hermione noticed that his cock had started to harden again.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Better, Healer Potter,” Hermione smirked, “but I wouldn’t say no to more treatment.”

“I bet you wouldn’t,” Harry snorted, and Hermione squealed as he picked up her legs and lifted them up until her ankles were resting on his shoulders.

It would be hours before they reached Hogwarts, and Hermione hoped that they’d be able to fit a lot of treatment in before then.

*****

Hours later, after a very liberal application of cleaning charms, Harry and Hermione climbed out of the trunk.

“We cut that close,” Hermione commented, her eyes widening as she realized how close they were to Hogwarts.

“At least we’ve already changed,” Harry said.

“What the…” Ron asked as he woke up. “Bloody hell, did I sleep the whole trip away?”

“You clearly needed it,” Hermione replied. “We’ll leave you to change.”

“Right, thanks,” Ron said, yawning. As they tried to leave the compartment, though, he said, “Did you hurt yourself, Hermione?”

“Hmm?” Hermione asked, taking a second to realize that he meant her limp. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just slipped earlier and twisted my ankle.”

If Ron heard Harry snort at that, he didn’t mention it.