Bad Potters and Smart Witches

A special thank you to Corey for commissioning this chapter—it's always a pleasure creating something unique for you!

---

Ron staggered under the blow, the white queen's stone arm crashing into his head with a sickening crack. He crumpled to the chessboard floor, unmoving. Hermione gasped, hand flying to her mouth, but Harry was already moving.

He stepped forward, heart pounding, and made his final move. The white king bowed, surrendering his crown. The game was won, but Harry's stomach twisted with guilt as he glanced back at Ron's limp body.

"We have to keep going," he said, voice tight. "We can't let his sacrifice be for nothing."

Hermione nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, and together they hurried through the next door, the echo of their footsteps swallowed by the oppressive silence.

The next chamber was dimly lit, the scent of something acrid lingering in the air. Before them, a table stood with seven oddly shaped bottles lined up in a row. A sheet of parchment lay beside them. As they crossed the threshold, purple flames roared to life behind them, and black fire blocked the exit ahead.

He pulled open the next door, both of them hardly daring to look at what came next – but there was nothing very frightening in there, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"Snape's," said Harry, voice tight with nerves. "What do we have to do?"

They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onwards. They were trapped.

"Look!" Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Harry leaned over her shoulder to read it:

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,

Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,

One among us seven will let you move ahead,

Another will transport the drinker back instead,

Two among our number hold only nettle wine,

Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.

Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore,

To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:

First, however, slyly the poison tries to hide

You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;

Second, different are those who stand at either end,

But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;

Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,

Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;

Fourth, the second on the left and the second on the right

They are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

Hermione let out a great sigh, and Harry amazed, saw that she was smiling – the last thing he felt like doing.

"Brilliant," said Hermione. "This isn't magic – it's logic – a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."

"But so will we, won't we?" Harry asked, voice low with worry.

"Of course not," Hermione replied confidently. "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire and one will get us back through the purple."

"But how do we know which to drink?"

"Give me a minute."

Hermione read the paper several times, walking up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself. At last, she clapped her hands.

"Got it," she said. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire – towards the Stone."

Harry looked at the tiny bottle.

"There's only enough there for one of us," he said. "That's hardly one swallow."

They exchanged a look, both of them understanding the gravity of the situation.

"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?"

Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line.

"You drink that," said Harry. "No, listen – get back to the others. Find Ron... well, you know what to do with him." He hesitated but added, "Get Ron and ensure he's safe. And send Hedwig to Dumbledore. We need him now more than ever."

Hermione's eyes softened, but her expression was firm. "You know I won't leave you here alone, right?"

"Please," Harry insisted. "You've got to. I'll be fine, Hermione. We've been through worse, together."

Hermione stepped closer, her hand reaching for his, a look of determination in her eyes. "Just be careful, Harry. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Hermione's lip trembled, and before she could stop herself, she dashed at Harry, throwing her arms around him in a desperate embrace. The warmth of his body sent a surge through her, and a deep, primal pull between them ignited—an undeniable force that felt as if their souls were intertwined by magic.

Her lips met his in a kiss that was soft at first, then urgent as if the magic itself was urging them to connect at this moment. Their bodies pressed together, the bond between them pulsing, raw need flowing through their veins.

But just as quickly, they pulled apart, breathless and shaken by the overwhelming desire and the reality of their situation.

"Wait..." Hermione whispered, her voice tinged with regret. "We... we can't. The Stone."

Harry, heart racing, nodded, his chest still heaving from the kiss. "We can't. But... Hermione, this feeling—it's not just us, is it?"

Hermione's eyes softened, a mixture of longing and understanding in her gaze. "No. It's magic. We're... we're connected somehow. I feel it too."

He swallowed, struggling to focus. "I want you. I want to explore you. I want us... but we can't let it distract us, not now."

Hermione stepped back slightly, though her hand lingered on his chest, as if reluctant to let go. "I know. We have to finish this. But Harry... when it's over—"

"When it's over," Harry interrupted, his voice thick with promise, "we'll have time. Time for us. For whatever this is. I won't let go of you, Hermione."

With one last, soft kiss—full of everything unsaid—Hermione pulled away, eyes glistening with emotion. "I'll come back for you. I promise."

She turned to the purple flames, but before stepping through, she glanced back at him. "We'll find a way, Harry. Together. After all of this. I swear it."

Harry's heart clenched at the thought of her leaving, but he nodded, the magic between them still alive in his veins. "I'll be waiting. When it's over... nothing will come between us."

She took a step back, and before either of them could say anything else, she pressed one final kiss to his lips, softer now, but still full of the same urgency.

"Be careful. Come back to me," Hermione whispered, her voice barely audible.

"I will," Harry promised. "I always do."

Without another word, Hermione turned and walked straight through the purple fire, disappearing into the haze.

As Harry stood there, watching her go, he placed a hand on his lips, the lingering taste of her kiss a bittersweet reminder of everything they had, and everything that was at stake.

---

Dumbledore smiled gently at Harry, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses as Harry groggily woke up. Something gold glinted above him—a pair of glasses, not the Snitch like Harry had thought before. Dumbledore's warm smile soon filled his vision.

"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore.

Harry blinked, trying to shake off the fog in his mind. Then it all came flooding back to him. "Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Sir, quick—"

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," Dumbledore said, his voice soothing. "Quirrell does not have the Stone."

"Then who does? Sir, I—"

"Harry, please relax," Dumbledore interrupted with a chuckle. "You've been through quite an ordeal. Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out if I don't get you to calm down. Quirrell is not a concern anymore."

Harry, still groggy, looked around and realized he was in the hospital wing, surrounded by sweets and flowers. "How long have I been in here?"

"Three days. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have been quite worried about you. They've hardly left your side."

At the mention of Hermione's name, Harry felt a warmth spread through him, a different kind of feeling from the one he'd had amid the chaos. "But the Stone—"

Dumbledore's eyes softened. "The Stone has been destroyed. It is no longer a threat. And as for Quirrell… You did very well, Harry. But what you did, what you went through, it nearly killed you."

Harry's brow furrowed. "But, sir… I thought I was supposed to stop him."

"Not just stop him, Harry. You've done something far more important. The Stone was destroyed, yes, but what Voldemort didn't understand, what he never could, was the love and protection that surrounded you. Your mother's sacrifice gave you protection beyond anything he could ever comprehend."

Harry was about to respond when Dumbledore's expression became more serious. "There's one more thing, Harry, that I need to tell you. It's about Miss Granger."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Hermione?"

Dumbledore smiled knowingly. "I'm sure you've felt the connection between you two. You've been bonded, not just by friendship, but by magic. The magic you share runs deeper than you may realize. It is a powerful connection. You and Hermione are, in many ways, practically married by magic. It is the kind of bond that, when two souls love each other truly, can bind them in ways that are not always visible but are unmistakably real."

Harry stared at Dumbledore, speechless for a moment. "But… she's just… Hermione."

"She is far more than just Hermione, Harry," Dumbledore said kindly. "True love, when it exists in its purest form, is magical. It transcends everything else."

Dumbledore's words sank deep into Harry's heart, and as he thought about the way he and Hermione had been drawn together—her urgent kiss in the potion puzzle room, the bond he had felt grow stronger each day—he began to understand.

"You are incredibly lucky, Harry," Dumbledore added, his voice tinged with a kind of reverence. "You've experienced true love not once, but twice. Your mother's love for you was the reason you survived that fateful night when Voldemort tried to kill you. And now, you've found a love that is just as powerful, and perhaps even more so, with Hermione."

Harry felt the weight of Dumbledore's words settle heavily on his chest. He had known that his mother's love had saved him, but to think that the love he shared with Hermione was just as strong, just as magical—it was overwhelming.

As Dumbledore continued, Harry's thoughts turned to Hermione, the pull he felt when she was near, and the way she made him feel like he was finally whole. He wasn't sure how much of it he truly understood yet, but something deep inside told him Dumbledore was right.

Later, in the Hospital Wing,

Harry sat up, still feeling exhausted but determined to explain everything to his friends. As the door creaked open, Ron and Hermione rushed to his side, their faces filled with concern. But as Hermione's eyes met his, there was something else there—something more intense.

Before he could say anything, Hermione leaned in, her lips finding him in a deep, passionate kiss. Her hands slid to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as if she couldn't get enough of him.

For a moment, Harry forgot everything. The mission, the Stone, even Ron's presence. But as their kiss deepened, something inside Hermione made her pull away, just enough to catch her breath.

"Wait…" she whispered, her voice trembling. She glanced over at Ron, who was standing awkwardly in the corner. "We… we can't. Not right now."

Harry's pulse was still racing, but he nodded. "I know. It's… complicated."

Hermione gave him a soft smile, but there was still something electric between them, something that neither of them could ignore. "I just couldn't wait anymore," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of desire and longing.

Ron shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Uh, I don't mean to interrupt… but Harry, what happened with Quirrell?"

Harry turned to look at Ron, then back at Hermione. She gave him a look that was part loving, part apologetic, and Harry's heart raced, still echoing with the intensity of their earlier moments.

With a deep sigh, he began recounting the events of the night—how he'd faced Quirrell, the destruction of the Stone, and Dumbledore's timely arrival. As he spoke, Hermione stood close by, her presence a quiet comfort. Her hand brushed against his every so often, a silent reassurance, but Harry could feel the pull between them growing stronger.

Ron, completely unaware of the undercurrent flowing between Harry and Hermione, waited patiently for Harry to finish. But in the quiet moments between their words, the tension was palpable.

Finally, when Harry finished, he looked at Hermione again, his hand finding hers, their fingers interlocking like they were meant to be there. She squeezed his hand gently, her eyes filled with a longing, a promise unspoken.

"Harry…" Hermione began, her voice soft, almost a whisper. She stepped closer, her breath warm against his skin. "Tonight… we'll continue where we left off. I just need you to wait for me."

Her words lingered in the air between them, and Harry's heart swelled. Harry also felt a shift within his pants. 

---

Later that night, after the castle had quieted and the last flicker of torchlight dimmed, Hermione made her way down the dark hallways, her steps swift and purposeful. Cloaked under the Invisibility Cloak, she moved with a quiet urgency. Her mind was focused only on one thing—Harry.

She entered the hospital wing, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear. There, in his bed, Harry waited, his expression unreadable, but his eyes told a different story. 

Hermione's heart raced as she dropped the cloak. Harry's gaze locked onto her, and for a moment, they stood there, wordless, but the air between them crackled with unspoken understanding.

"Harry…" she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. She closed the space between them in an instant, her hands reaching for him, pulling him into her arms.

He didn't hesitate. The moment their bodies touched, something in him snapped. Their hormones, primal instincts—roared to life. Harry's hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as if he couldn't get enough of her. His lips found hers in a fiery kiss, deep and demanding, fueled by a need neither could ignore.

Hermione responded in kind, her hands tangling in his hair as she kissed him with equal fervor. It was no longer just a kiss—it was a claim, an undeniable force of nature that had been building ever since their first kiss.

The world around them seemed to disappear. All that mattered was the pull—the magic that wove them together. Harry's chest heaved as he broke the kiss for a moment, his breath shaky.

"Hermione…" he muttered, voice hoarse, his forehead resting against hers. "I need you."

Her fingers slid down his chest, to his waist, and she pulled him in closer still, feeling the heat of his body against hers. "I need you too," she whispered back, her voice low and raw with desire.

Their lips met again, this time with more urgency. The bond between them surged, and they both gave in to it completely, their bodies responding to the primal call of magic and passion. The intensity was overwhelming, but neither could pull away. The need was too strong, too consuming.

They continued to kiss, the heat between them only growing, as the magic surrounding them wrapped them in a world of their own, where only the two of them existed.

With trembling hands, Hermione began to unbutton Harry's shirt, one button at a time, her eyes never leaving his. Harry mirrored her actions, his fingers deftly working on her shirt as well.

The fabric whispered away from their overheated skin, revealing the softness of Hermione's training bra, and the firmness of Harry's chest finally quidditch training had helped him.

They stepped closer, their chests touching as they kissed more deeply. Hermione's hands roamed down to his waistband, fumbling with his pants. Harry groaned into her mouth as she unzipped them, and they slid down his legs. He stepped out of them, leaving his boxers as the last piece of clothing separating them from each other.

Her bra and panties were next. Harry's eyes widened when he saw the crimson and gold fabric of her underwear, the Gryffindor lion proudly displayed. "You got these while I was...?" he trailed off, unable to believe the depth of her thoughtfulness.

"Mm-hmm," she murmured, her cheeks flushing with a hint of shyness. "So you could think of me, of us, every time you looked at them."

With a shy smile, she slipped the straps off her shoulders, letting her bra fall on Harry's bed. Harry's gaze lingered on her, taking in the sight of her barely covered tits, his eyes darkening with desire. He took a deep breath, fighting the urge to rip away the last barrier separating them.

He couldn't resist the urge to touch her, to feel the softness of her boobs beneath the fabric. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties, pausing to kiss her belly button. "These are definitely mine," he said with a possessive smirk, pulling them down her legs.

Her giggle turned into a moan as he kissed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "You can have them," she whispered, "but only if you think of me every time you touch them."

The air was thick with anticipation as Harry stood before backed Hermione clad only in his underwear. With one last tug, Harry removed his boxers, standing before her in all his glory. Hermione's eyes widened slightly, her heart racing as she took in the sight of his dick which shall be inside her tonight.

They stepped closer again, their bare skin touching, sending sparks of magic through both of them. Harry's hands found her boobs, cupping them gently, his thumbs teasing her nipples. She gasped, arching into his touch, her hands reaching down to remove his final piece of clothing.

Their kiss grew more urgent, their bodies moving in sync as they stepped out of their underwear. Hermione's eyes searched his, finding a mix of feral and hungry passion that made her nipples erect and her slit wet. 

"Harry…" Hermione whispered, her voice full of urgency. She took a steadying breath before continuing, her eyes searching his. "The magic between us. It's a marriage bond, pulling us together. It wants us to consummate our union, and it urges us to have a child."

Harry's heart raced as he processed her words. "Wait, you mean... it won't stop pulling us together until we... have a baby?"

Hermione nodded, her gaze unwavering. "No, but the bond will buzz in some corner of our heads until we do, Harry. And there's a spell I found that can help us—infantem paratus. It guarantees conception."

Harry cupped her face, his heart swelling with love and uncertainty. "Are you sure? A child... it's huge. You've worked so hard this year."

"I'm not giving up anything, Harry," she said softly, her fingers brushing his lips. "We'll do it all—together. This is what I want too."

His heart softened, and he pulled her closer, his voice low. "I want you, Hermione. I want our future, whatever it looks like."

Hermione smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Then let's fuck me until you knock me up."

With a deep breath, she held her wand steady towards her dripping pussy. "Infantem paratus."

As the magic swirled between them, Harry could feel his dick hardening and Hermione felt her womb aching for something, its effectiveness undeniable.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, her eyes smoldering with desire, "I've been dreaming of your dick since the kiss." Harry's heart raced as he felt her soft, eager hands fumbling with his boxers. 

She pulled his boxers aside, revealing his stiffening cock, and with a hungry look in her eyes, she leaned in to kiss the tip, her warm breath sending shivers down his spine. 

"Mmm," she hummed in satisfaction as she wrapped her lips around him, her tongue swirling around the sensitive head.

Harry's eyes rolled back in his head as she took more of him into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing with each eager suck. "That's it, love," he groaned, his hand finding its way into her hair, guiding her rhythm as she grew more confident. Hermione's eyes remained locked on Harry's, full of passion and need, as she worked him deeper, her throat contracting around his shaft.

Her arousal grew as she tasted him, her pussy aching to be filled by the very cock she was eager to suck. Harry watched her, his eyes glazed over with desire, as she began to bob her head, her pace increasing. "Oh, Harry," she gasped, her voice muffled by his cock, "You taste so good." Harry's hips began to rock in response, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth, his hands tightening in her hair. "Fuck, Hermione," he murmured, "your mouth is so perfect."

The room spun around them as their passion grew, the only sounds were their muffled moans and the wet smacking of Hermione's lips as she worked him. Harry could feel his orgasm building, the pressure in his balls becoming almost unbearable.

He knew he couldn't last much longer, but he was determined to make this moment last. "I'm going to cum," he warned, his voice strained, and Hermione responded by taking him even deeper, her throat working to swallow every drop he had to offer.

As Harry released himself into her mouth, Hermione didn't flinch. She drank him in, savoring the taste, her excitement building as she felt his cock pulse between her lips. When he was spent, she pulled away, a smug smile playing on her lips as she licked them clean. "My turn," she said, her voice low and needy, as she reached for the hem of her robe. Harry nodded, his cock already beginning to harden again at the thought of what was to come. He leaned back, eager to return the favor and explore the sweetness that was unique to Hermione.

With a seductive smirk, Hermione opened her legs as she lay on the bed revealing the damp spot between her legs. Harry's eyes followed his gaze lingering on the delicious sight before him. "Come here, Harry," she beckoned her voice a siren's call that he couldn't resist.

He crawled over to her, his hardened cock leading the way, and kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her lips. "I want you to make me feel as good as I made you," she murmured against his mouth. Harry's eyes sparked with determination as he kissed down her body, his hands caressing her soft skin, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched.

When he reached her wet, swollen pussy, he didn't hesitate. He spread her legs wider and buried his face between her thighs, his tongue seeking out her clit with unerring precision.

"Ah, Harry!" Hermione gasped as he flicked her sensitive bud, her hips bucking against his mouth. She tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him in place as he licked and sucked, her breaths coming in ragged pants. "Right there," she panted, guiding him as he feasted on her. Harry's tongue danced around her entrance, teasing her, before plunging deep inside, eliciting a moan that echoed through the empty hospital wing. "Oh, Merlin," she whispered, her legs trembling with pleasure. His mouth was insatiable, exploring every inch of her, his tongue grazing her folds before returning to her clit with renewed fervor.

Hermione's orgasm built rapidly, her body arching off the bed. "I'm so close," she gasped, her voice barely audible. Harry's fingers joined his tongue, sliding into her wet cunt, curling inside her as he sucked hard on her clit. The sensation was overwhelming, and she cried out as she came, her body shaking with the force of her release.

Harry drank in her sweet nectar, relishing the taste of her pleasure. When she had ridden out the last of her climax, he kissed his way back up her body, their eyes locking once more. "Now," she breathed, "now I'm ready for you." Harry didn't need another invitation. He positioned himself between her legs, the head of his cock nudging against her still-pulsing pussy, and with a gentle push, he filled her completely.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione gasped as he entered her, her walls clenching around him greedily. "You feel so good." Harry groaned in response, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to move, his hips setting a steady rhythm. "I've dreamed of this," he murmured, his voice strained with passion. "Of being inside you."

Hermione's nails dug into his back, urging him deeper. "Take me," she pleaded, her voice a breathless whimper. "Take me like you own me," Harry growled the primal need to claim her overwhelming him. He slammed into her, his cock hitting her G-spot with every thrust, her cries of pleasure spurring him on.

"Is this what you want?" he grunted, his own desire reaching a fever pitch. "To be fucked by your bad boyfriend?" Hermione nodded, her eyes glazed over with lust. "Yes," she panted, "yes, Harry, yes." He leaned in closer, his teeth grazing her earlobe.

"And what about your ass?" he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. Hermione's body tensed, the idea sending a fresh wave of arousal through her. "Yes," she murmured, "I want you there, too." Harry's eyes lit up with excitement. "As you wish, my love," he said, his hand reaching back to caress her cheek before pulling out of her pussy, his cock slick with her juices.

He leaned over to grab a small bottle of lubricant from the side table, his eyes never leaving hers. "Trust me," he said, a gentle smile playing on his lips. Hermione nodded, her heart racing with anticipation. Harry applied the lubricant generously, his fingers sliding easily into her tight ass. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Hermione's answer was a wanton moan as she pushed back against his hand, eager for more. With one final kiss, Harry positioned his cock at her entrance and pushed in, feeling her tighten around him as he claimed her in her ass claiming her last virginity. 

"Relax, Hermione," he soothed, his voice thick with lust. "Just let me in." Hermione took a deep breath and did as he said, feeling herself stretch to accommodate his size. "It's...it's so big," she whimpered. Harry chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through her.

"I'll go slow," he promised, his cock inching deeper with torturous patience. The sensation was intense, a mix of pleasure and pain that had Hermione's toes curling. "Oh, Harry," she moaned as he hit a spot that made her see stars. "Oh, fuck, right there." Harry began to move, his strokes long and slow, each one sending waves of pleasure crashing over her.

"Your ass is so tight," he groaned, his own need growing with every second. "So fucking tight." Hermione could only nod, her words lost to the sensation of fullness that was quickly becoming all she knew. "

You like that, don't you?" Harry asked, his voice strained. "You like my cock in your ass?" "Yes," Hermione gasped, her voice a needy cry. "I love it. Don't stop, Harry. Don't ever stop." Harry's responding groan was all the answer she needed, his hips picking up the pace as he claimed her completely. The empty wing was filled with the sounds of their passion—the slap of skin against skin, their mingled breaths, and the wet sounds of his cock moving in and out of her ass.

"I'm going to cum," Harry warned his voice tight with restraint. Hermione nodded her own orgasm building. "Cum inside my dirty ass," she begged her voice a desperate plea. Harry's eyes rolled back in his head as he drove into her, his cock pulsing with his release. He filled her ass with his hot seed, the sensation pushing Hermione over the edge.

She came hard, her body convulsing around him, her scream of pleasure echoing through the common room. When they had both caught their breaths, Harry pulled out gently, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Now, for your pussy," he murmured, his cock already hard again.

 "I'm not done with you yet," Harry whispered, his eyes gleaming with lust. He kissed her again, hard and possessive, before sliding his still-wet cock into her pussy. "Ready for round two?" Hermione nodded fervently, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving. With a low groan, Harry pushed inside her, feeling her warmth and wetness envelop him. "Ah, Harry," she gasped, her voice a sweet symphony of pleasure. "You feel so amazing." Harry began to thrust into her, his movements deliberate and deep, filling her completely with each stroke. "Your pussy is even tighter now" he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. "So fucking perfect."

Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his back as she met his rhythm. "Fuck me, Harry," she panted. "I need it. I need all of you." Harry's hips snapped against hers, driving his cock deeper, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony. "You're mine," he growled, his teeth grazing her neck. "All of you. Your mouth, your pussy, your ass—all mine." Hermione's eyes rolled back, her moans growing louder with each word. "Yes," she breathed, "I'm yours."

Their pace grew frenzied, their passion a wildfire that consumed the room. Harry's hands roamed her body, pinching her nipples, and gripping her hips, as he claimed her over and over. "I'm going to cum again," he grunted, his voice tight with need. "Do you want it?" "Yes," Hermione cried out, her own orgasm cresting. "Inside me, Harry. Cum inside me. Knock me up."

With a roar, Harry gave in to his release, filling her pussy with his warmth. They clung to each other, their bodies trembling, as the last waves of pleasure washed over them. "Merlin," Hermione gasped, her eyes shining with satisfaction. "That was...that was incredible." Harry smiled down at her, his heart pounding. "It was," he agreed, his voice still gruff with desire.

With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, Hermione reached down to stroke Harry's still-hard cock. "Ready for more?" she teased, her voice a sultry whisper. Harry's eyes darkened, his hunger for her insatiable. "Always," he murmured, leaning in to nip at her earlobe. He positioned himself at her entrance once again, his cock slick with their combined juices. "Tell me when," he said, his voice strained with anticipation. Hermione took a deep breath, her body already humming with desire. "Now," she breathed, and with one powerful thrust, Harry was back inside her, filling her up completely.

"Fuck, Harry," she moaned, her nails digging into his back. "You feel so good." Harry's response was a low groan as he began to move, his hips pistoning in and out of her tight, welcoming pussy. "You're so wet for me," he said, his voice thick with lust. "It's like you were made for me." Hermione's breath hitched as he hit her g-spot, her eyes fluttering shut. "I am," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm yours."

Their bodies moved together in a dance of passion, their cries of pleasure mingling with the crackling of the fire. "Harder," Hermione begged, her hips rising to meet his every thrust. Harry obliged, his strokes becoming more forceful, his cock claiming her over and over. "Oh, Harry," she gasped, her body tightening around him. "I'm going to cum." Harry's pace quickened his own release building. "Come for me, Hermione," he urged, his voice a rough growl. "You are creaming all over my cock."

And with that, Hermione shattered, her orgasm ripping through her like a tidal wave. Harry followed her over the edge, his cock pulsing deep inside her as he filled her with his cum, and their bodies joined a mating press. When the last of their tremors subsided, Harry collapsed on top of her, his heart hammering against her chest. "I love you," he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion. Hermione's arms tightened around him, her own heart swelling with affection. "I love you too," she murmured, her voice a soft sigh of contentment. 

With their breaths still heavy from their passionate encounter, Harry and Hermione lay tangled together in the warm embrace of each other, the soft bed and blanket whispering sweet nothings against their flushed skin. Hermione's eyes sparkled with mischief as she playfully bit her lower lip, her heart fluttering like a caged bird released into the wild. Harry couldn't resist the urge to lean in, capturing her mouth with his own in a gentle but insatiable kiss, tasting the remnants of their shared pleasure.

"Merlin, Harry," she murmured against his lips, her voice a siren's song that sent shivers down his spine. "That was..."

"Yeah," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion, not needing her to finish the sentence. They had crossed a line they had never dared to before, but it felt so incredibly right.

Her hand trailed down his chest, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles as if committing them to memory. "I never knew it could be like this," she confessed, her voice a seductive purr that made him want to take her all over again.

"Neither did I, Hermione," he replied, his own hand finding the small of her back, pulling her closer. "But I'm so bloody glad it's with you."

Their kisses grew hungrier, more urgent as if they were trying to devour each other whole. Harry's hand slipped up to cradle her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple until it peaked beneath the fabric of her shirt. Hermione's breath hitched, and she arched into his touch, her hips rolling against his, seeking friction.

"You should get back to Gryffindor Tower," Harry whispered, reluctantly breaking the kiss. "But I'll never forget tonight."

Hermione smirked, her eyes gleaming with a newfound lust. "I don't plan on letting you," she said, a hint of challenge in her voice as she reached for his cock, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Not if I can help it."

He groaned, his body responding to her touch despite his mind's protest. "You're going to be the death of me, Granger," he said, his voice filled with both love and desire.

"Oh, I hope so," she teased, kissing him once more before sitting up and sliding the cloak off her shoulders. "But not before I've had my fill of you."

With trembling hands, Harry watched as she wore the last of her clothes, leaving panties to him and going commando back to her dorm. He couldn't believe his luck, his best friend, his girlfriend, and now his lover. As she kissed him goodnight and slipped away to return to Gryffindor Tower, the absence of her panties served as a silent declaration of her intentions.

---

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