Fate's Rewrite

Despite my decision to test her limits, I was content in silently watching Hermione after the guard's departure, marveling at her changes. Admittedly, even discounting my insidious manipulations, what she was going through was far from simple. Thanks to Dumbledore's idiotic plan, she had found herself shouldering the responsibility to end a war they were losing rather badly. Her carnal sacrifices made sense under the unbelievable amount of stress was not a surprise.

And my modifications on her mentality significantly furthered the lengths she was willing to go. The magical tricks I had implemented on her made sure that she was backed up with desire to an unbelievable degree. Not to mention the situation I had trapped her discharged that pressure in most high-risk way imaginable, by making her think that she was just a mistake away from captured by the enemy. And being saved by the biggest annoyance for their so-called golden-trio wasn't helpful to her attempts to balance herself, nor the fact that sexual relations with said annoyance being the only way to avoid attendance.

I shook my head, distracting myself, not wanting to waste any time with introspection while there was a sexy minx between my legs, doing her best to milk me dry. The fact that her top and her bra was lying on the ground in pieces, leaving her half naked. Yes, her arms were still crossed over her breasts, trying to hide her treasures, but they were noticeably looser, giving me occasional glimpses of her nipples as she tried to devour more of my shaft.

Since she was yet to notice the absence of the guard, I decided to use the opportunity to start bringing things to the next level. I lowered my hands to her chest, leveraging her lack of attention to squeeze between the space between her arms and her breasts. In my palms, her globes felt like little balls of fire, her heartbeat flickering like tongs of flame. I squeezed them hard, earning a moan, which almost triggered a climax in me because she didn't bother to pull my shaft outside her mouth before letting out that cry, causing my shaft to rumble.

I expected her to pull back after that squeeze, but much to my surprise, she continued her task with the same diligence that made her the best student of her generation. I was tempted to let her continue with that task, of course, but that would ruin quite a bit of the preparation I had put in place, and I wasn't willing to forgo their amusement value.

"The guard is gone," I said in stage whisper, my hands still on her breasts, massaging them softly.

It took a few seconds for her to react my words, and even then, it was just her eyes, rising to meet mine while her lips still maintained their repetitive journey on my shaft. In her eyes, a delicious mixture of arousal and dancing, effortlessly suppressing her emotions on the negative side of the spectrum.

She had repeated the motion a couple more times until my lips involuntarily quirked into a smirk, which somehow reminded her of the situation she was in. Her lips froze in place for a moment as the situation hit her in its nakedness, then she pulled back. Her arms tightened around her chest reflexively, but that worked the opposite effect, as my hands were still in place.

"You need to loosen your grip so that I can pull back my hands," I reminded. My words achieved the impossible, enhancing her blush even further. But her arms loosened, allowing me to pull back my hands, also giving me another glimpse of her perky tits before she grabbed the scraps of her top and pressed it against her chest to cover them.

I said nothing else. Watching Hermione was more fun as she stayed on her knees, not knowing where to look. She couldn't even decide where to look, trying to avoid the sight of my erection which still glistened with her saliva. But she also avoided my gaze, unable to stomach the sight of the victorious smirk that I was unable to erase despite my best efforts. In the end, she remembered why she was here.

"So, where were we?" I asked even as I leaned back, not making the slightest effort to cover my glistening length.

"We were…" Hermione tried to start, but her words stumbled when her gaze was once again caught by my presence. "Can't you just put that back on your pants," she whined.

"I can't," I answered calmly. "You never know when another guard passes by, and it's safer to be ready to continue our ruse," I explained, amused by the ease she believed my half-assed reasoning. After all, just closing the door would be a much easier solution than maintaining the constant impression that things were about to devolve into a naked wrestling match. Not that it would have worked if she recommended it; my arguments were already prepared to convince her otherwise.

"Okay," she whispered, the shock still apparent in her tone. "Let's go back talking about the resistance."

"We will," I said even as I put my hand towards her. "But first, we need to make sure we won't be overheard," I said. "Without a spell," I added a moment later when I saw her reaching for her wand. "Can you imagine just suspicious it will look if we use a silencing spell to hide our discussion. No, you need to be closer."

"But how?" she asked.

"Simple, you need to be closer so that I can whisper at you without any chance of being overheard even if someone else decides to drop," I explained even as I shifted in my chair, trying to make myself comfortable for what was about to follow.

She sent a fleeting glance towards the door before speaking once more. "But, if I sit on the table they will…" she said, trailing into silence, but from the way her arms tightened around her chest even further, it was obvious that she was concerned about revealing her half-naked body to the thugs we were employing as Snatchers.

"You will not sit on the table," I corrected her, and much to her growing shock, I patted my legs, inviting her to my lap. "This way, I would be able to whisper into your ear without raising any suspicion." I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively. "Not to mention we'll look like we're doing it, which will prevent them from getting suspicious."

She opened her mouth, seeming intent on arguing, but stopped when I sent a warning glare towards her, cutting off her argument short. Our eyes stayed connected for a couple of seconds, giving me a glimpse of the tornado of emotions that was going inside her. Under my glare, her questions melted without being asked. I pushed my hand towards her.

A resigned expression was on her face as her fingers wrapped around mine, her other arm still clutching around her chest, holding her scrapped top against her breasts to hide them from my view. That was not to be borne, of course, so I sent another pointed look at her. "It would be hard to explain that if they walk in, don't you think?" I inquired.

She froze at my words, and for a moment, I had thought that I had pushed her too hard, but then her arm loosened, and the piece of cloth slid down, partially revealing her spectacular breasts. Her nipples were still hidden by her hand, hovering above her breast helplessly, but that just enhanced the eroticism of the scene.

Since she was still waiting to act, I decided to use the opportunity to further my preparation. I pushed my pants down, freeing my legs for further action. Then, I patted my naked leg, inviting her once more. She sent a reluctant glare towards the still-open door, acutely aware of the revealing view she would provide to any passerby, but that glance hadn't lasted for long. Apparently, servicing me under the table while one of the guards stood above us had gone quite a bit loosening her morals.

Bored with her indecision, I decided to solve it once and for all. I wrapped my arm around her waist, and before she could react in a way other than a panicked yelp, pulled her on my lap, trapping my shaft under her skirt, between our bodies. I wanted to hide it inside her, of course, but even with the everything that happened, I didn't think Hermione would be convinced for that. Not yet, at least, I convinced even as I sealed her lips with mine to suppress her reflexive cry.

"What was that," she spat out, angry for the sudden kiss, but she had the presence of the mind to keep her voice low.

"You looked like you were about to cry in panic, and I needed to make sure it wasn't heard," I whispered after I leaned through her bushy hair. She looked ready to argue, but I cut her off. "We can discuss it if you want, but more time we spend on that, the longer you need to stay in this position," I reminded her.

"All right," she said, admitting defeat softly.

"Let's move on the real topic then," I whispered once more, and started a detailed explanation about Voldemort's rule, the areas of operation, prison camps, and troop composition, even his suspicious absence, namely everything that would have been useful if she was a part of the normal resistance effort. But unfortunately, her task was to hunt the immortality baubles of Voldemort, making most of the information I was providing her useless while still proving my readiness to help her.

My hands were not idle while I was giving her those details, roaming over her skin, teasing the sensitive spots I had discovered during the prison cell encounter. And they were turning out to be quite useful especially in her already aroused but confused state. She had done to suppress her whimpers when I dragged my hand along her spine, trying best to ignore the effect of my breath on her ear, but it was in vain. Her body was begging for more…

With all that was going on, I wasn't exactly surprised when her hips started rocking without my input. I had learned that tendency of hers the last time as well. It was barely noticeable at first, but with each repeat, it started to become more apparent. "Slow your hips down, honey," I whispered, cutting down my explanation about the most prominent Death Eaters and their roles.

"What," she gasped in shock, her hips freezing in place, making me suspect that she hadn't noticed that she was doing it in the first place.

I ignored her shock, and continued with my explanation. "Not that I don't respect your dedication to your role, but when you move like that, it's riding up your already short skirt up even further." I pulled back, examining her expression, which seemed to confuse her further as she tried to process why I was making it an issue of it, considering the situation I forced her in. I smirked, and continued my explanation. "Whenever your skirt slides away, it reveals your panties, and it's suspicious for you to still wear panties when we are supposed to look like we're doing to deed."

"But…" she murmured, but no words followed it, unable to process the shifts and turns of the discussion.

"You're right," I answered, treating her errant word as a comprehensive argument in reverse. I was pushing it a bit, but it wasn't like she was in a position to notice logical fallacies like that. "We need to make sure to give an impression of passion, and the movement of your hips is vital for that. But still, we need to find a solution for that," I followed, pausing for a moment to give the impression of deep thought despite already reaching to the letter opener that had served me well when I had been trying to get rid of her bra.

"Don't do it," she said when she realized what I was reaching for, but it was too late. One of my arms were still around her waist, cutting any chance of pulling back while my other hand managed a more literal process of cutting.

Her expression of outrage was delicious as I cut her panties to pieces, enough that she was willing to ignore the fact that my shaft was pressing against her naked skin in favor of opening her mouth in preparation of an exclamation. I had no intention of allowing her to do that. "Someone is coming," I warned her. Of course, they were coming only because of the small message I had sent a moment ago, but in the grand scheme of things, that didn't matter much. I dropped the letter opener on the ground, and slid my emptied hand through her hair, tugging hard while my other hand slid under her skirt, clamping on her naked skin.

Distracted by the situation, her hips picked up the direction I was giving by pushing her up and down. Soon, she was gliding across my length, tempting me to take the final step. And when one of the guards stepped inside, not even bothering to knock thanks to the open door, I decided it was finally the time.

"Sir, do you have a minute," the guard said. I could feel Hermione stiffen on my lap, unable to handle the sudden presence of another voyeur, especially since discounting her flimsy skirt that had trouble staying in place, she was completely naked.

"Of course, explain," I answered even as I pulled from the kiss, looking at him over Hermione's shoulder. Meanwhile, I moved my other hand on her hip as well. I lifted her up, higher than I had ever done during our session, so much that the altitude of her entrance passed the crown of my shaft, before I suddenly changed the direction, slamming my shaft deep inside her. She realized what was about to happen fraction of a second before it actually did, but it was too late for her to reverse it. Not that she had any such ambition if I was reading her expression correctly.

I ignored the guard's explanation, my attention split between the amazing sensation I was experiencing as my shaft was wrapped with her walls, extremely tight despite her wetness, and her expression, turning into an erotic bundle of shock, anger, resignation, and even arousal, all wrapped by a thick layer of unexpected carnal pleasure.

I didn't need to see her expression to know that she wanted to react negatively in a way that had a likelihood to include violence, but her hands were tied with the presence of the guard in the room - figuratively of course, though thinking that created a beautiful vision of her, naked other than a Gryffindor tie around her wrist, neatly packing her for my attention. I took a note to actually try it in a later date, maybe when I bring her to a 'date' to apologize for my current outreach, taking her virginity in such a brute manner.

Her expression told me that she was split on losing her virginity. On the one hand, taking such an intimate step in front of an observer - one that was little more than a plant with all the magic I pumped into his brain, as I was too possessive to allow anything else; a bit of public teasing was fine, but I wouldn't allow a voyeur to watch as. A male one at least, I was much less negative about the voyeurs of the female variety. On the other hand, she failed to hide the rush of pleasure that invaded her body as I finally break through the barrier that kept her away from the full realization of pleasure, one that her body, trained to perfection during the last month, was begging for incessantly.

And the results of all that training started to show as the time rolled. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, she started showing the hints of getting into the action. The first to join the dance was her lips. With her head already buried on my neck to hide her face from the guard, her lips were close to my neck. Soon, I felt her teeth clamping on my skin hard enough to actually hurt. She might have thought as a punishment, but there was no hiding the passion behind it.

Her hips joined soon after, starting to move on their power rather than relying on my pushes, her tightness traversing my length repeatedly. She bit my neck even harder, suggesting that I wasn't the only one that was getting overwhelmed with the sensation. It was useful that she was too distracted with my presence to pay attention to the discussion between me and the guard, I thought, as I was having trouble maintaining even a semblance of reason in that discussion, spouting random words, my mind occupied by the delicious way she was wrapped around my girth.

It was for barely a minute that she was jumping up and down on my lap when she suddenly tightened even further, in a way that I would have recognized as a particularly strong orgasm even if it wasn't for her window-shattering cries and free-flowing juices. Frankly, it was a miracle that I managed to keep myself from releasing at that exact second, leaving me free to enjoy the way she went limp on my lap.

But while it was tempting to send the guard away and enjoy the way she was lazing on my lap, I had a better idea in mind. I tightened my grip around the small of her back, and then stood up while my shaft was still inside her. The panic broke through her haze when I did so, especially when I weakened my grip around her waist, and she started to topple backward until her back touched to my desk, though not hard enough to hurt. And all the while, my shaft was stuffed deep inside her, shuffling with the motion.

It took a second for her to realize that in that position, there was nothing to hide her breasts from the guard that was sharing the room with us. She opened her mouth to argue, but I chose that moment to slam inside her mercilessly, turning her words to a hopeless moan. She didn't have a chance of resisting that pleasure, especially when her body was still dealing with the aftershocks of her previous climax.

Her arms crossed on top of her chest in an effort to hide what little modesty she had, which left me free to impale her to my heart's content, each repeat filling the room with the sound of flesh hitting flesh, the cracking filling the room. I kept my eyes firmly on her face, but she didn't return the courtesy, too busy turning towards the guard that was still in the room, watching her with a facsimile of arousal. I was lucky that she was too distracted to notice the glassy look in his eyes.

"You can go now," I said to the guard without slowing down the pace. It was an amusing trick, but I was getting bored with it. I wanted her attention back to me. "And don't forget to close the door behind you."

The guard nodded and left the room, leaving Hermione free to turn her gaze back to me, anger trying to flicker in her eyes. Unfortunately for her, it failed to do so, doused by the warm waters of her pleasure, rising constantly. "Bastard," she managed to say between moans. "Stop."

I don't think I would have been able to do that even if her words had carried any hint of determination behind them. But as the things stood, two measly words were nothing against her body language, or the amazing way she squeezed me with each push. "Sorry, sweetie," I answered. "You are just too damn sexy to resist." I was amused to notice that a blush exploded on her face despite the ridiculousness of the situation. "And look at the bright side," I continued, acting like I wasn't on the edge of exploding. "We thoroughly managed to convince them about your reason of visiting."

She opened her mouth to say something, but I never learned what she was planning to say, as my resistance chose that exact moment to give in, painting her insides white, with an errant drop sliding out. "No, not that!" she exclaimed as she tried to pull back.

"Ops," I said, but I keep a hold of her legs to prevent her from sliding away as I pumped her insides until I run dry, and she was limp with the pleasure, keeping her from pushing the point in a more physical manner. Only then I pulled back, sitting on my chair, with an excellent view as she just lay on the desk, trying to catch her breath, my gift slowly ooze between her legs while she tried to build up her anger.

I had a feeling that the next few minutes was going to be fun.