
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4009051.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Hermione_Granger/Harry_Potter
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Hermione_Granger
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Hogwarts_Seventh_Year, Fluff_and
      Smut, Friends_to_Lovers, Teenagers, Sexual_Content
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-05-25 Words: 3448
****** Just Once ******
by likebunnies
Summary
     A savory proposition is presented to Hermione.
     Originally posted sometime after 2003 but well before the final books
     were released. They are in their seventh year at Hogwarts in this
     story so it's completely AU.
Notes
     This is the story line I copied from myself across several fandoms
     from the X-Files to... whatever. Also, since it hadn't happened yet,
     the whole on the run looking for Horcruxes and the Battle of Hogwarts
     obviously isn't in this. Just fluffy smut. And they are whatever age
     they'd be at the end of their seventh year so I suppose that makes it
     underage.
[ photo justonce_1_zpsckkvei5z.jpg]
 
***********
It's the last trip to Hogsmeade before the term is over (and the last one ever
for many of us seventh years) and the crowd inside the Three Broomsticks is so
noisy that I can barely hear Harry speaking to me from across the table. Ron
left with Luna and Dean and Ginny went to stock up on sweets from Honeydukes,
leaving the two of us alone. Or sort of alone. Harry is asking me something but
in the clamor, I can only catch a few words of what he's saying.
"Would you... before we go... just once?"
"Once?" I ask before my eyes go wide, finally putting all those words together
to form the whole question.
He cocks his head to side and waits for my answer.
I can't believe I'm considering his proposition. That's what it is. A
proposition. A plan. Perhaps a scheme he's devising for who knows what purpose.
I know him better than to think he's trying to make me look the fool. Harry
would never do that. Yet, he's up to something and I'm not sure what it is. Or
maybe not. Maybe he really does want just once. Could that be a possibility?
Could it really?
Back to the 'proposition' at hand. I have to look away from his eyes to
consider it rationally. Watching him look at me like he's doing right now makes
it too easy to say yes and run right back to the castle for an afternoon of
'once-ing.' It's not like I haven't thought about it before but the offer has
never been . . . well, offered. After a few fumbling attempts at kissing a
while back, I didn't think he'd be interested in more.
It looks like he might be.
"So, what do you say?" Harry asks in a voice lower than I thought his voice
could go. It's his sexy voice and I know he did that on purpose. In all these
years, I've never heard him talk to Ron like that. He usually doesn't talk to
me like that unless he really wants something. Usually that something involves
helping him with his Potions homework or giving him my notes for Charms. Rarely
has that something included . . . me.
"What constitutes 'once?' We need to establish..." I start to ask in a rather
bookish way before I'm interrupted by a laugh and that low voice again.
"Oh, Hermione. Does it need to be in writing? Once is... once," he says, as he
goes back to playing with his tankard of butterbeer.
He swirls the liquid around and around and I can't help but watch his hands as
they do so. He's slow and deliberate, never letting a drop spill over the top.
Never stopping that circular motion. I wonder what he could do to me with those
hands? Would he let me spill over the top...
I shake myself out of whatever fantasy I might have been having and look up at
him quickly. "Okay. Once."
I hear his tankard go clunk against the table, Harry setting it down rather
hard after all the muscles in his hand simultaneously stop working. Or maybe
that was his jaw hitting the table. I don't think that would go 'clunk' though.
He's going to back out of it. He looks like a terrified little mouse being
chased by an owl. It is okay as long as it's his game, but as soon as I'm the
owl, so to speak, he becomes the Boy Who Runs.
I sit back in my seat, cross my arms in front of me and wait for the great
escape plan. How is he going to elude me? His eyelids are already fluttering
about like a freshly hatched lacewing fly before taking flight. He is trying to
figure out how he is going to dodge this and take his own 'flight.'
He opens his mouth, which by the way is another remarkable reason to 'once'
with him, and nothing comes out for a few seconds. He can't even formulate a
good excuse to get out of this. Maybe when I agreed, I was counting on him
getting us both out of it.
But do I really want him to?
I pick up my own mug of warm butterbeer and send it swirling in its tankard,
blowing the steam in his direction. He's watching me now. Watching my hands as
they send the liquid around and around. His mouth is still open. He's still
thinking about if he wants to do this or not. Maybe I should be offended. I
just offered myself up to him and he's trying to get out of it. That would be
for the best. We're only going to be here at Hogwarts for a few more weeks and
then I'm off to university and he's off to do something he won't even tell me
about. Perhaps it would be best if we just ended this right now before it went
too far and we jeopardize our friendship after all these years. I look at him
once more and I can tell by his expression, he's thinking the same thing.
I resign myself to the fact that he didn't really mean it. It was a fun little
fantasy for the few minutes it lasted but I should have known better. I have to
stop looking at him now before he tells me that he was just joking with me.
"I'll settle up with Rosmerta," he finally says, standing up quickly. "I guess
it has to be my room, right?"
CLUNK!
This time it isn't just the bottom of his tankard hitting the table. This time
it's my whole mug, sending butterbeer everywhere.
 
************
Harry doesn't know the way back to Hogwarts. I'm sure he knows the way, but
right now, he seems all turned around.
Before we can end up at Honeydukes, I take his arm and point him in the
direction of the big castle that's looming over everything.
"Right," he says, taking a deep breath.
I wonder if I should hold his hand but then realize that I'm so nervous, my
palms are a sweaty mess. It's not that I haven't done this before. I have. Just
not like this and not with Harry.
And for the record, not with Ron either since he never got up the nerve to ask.
I usually prefer a little planning to be involved, thrown in with some
research. I like to know the how and the when before I get there. Although I've
lightened up considerably since I came to Hogwarts and got on the Harry Potter
Express to All Places Evil, there are still some things I like to think about.
Sex is one of them.
Now I'll have to admit that I have thought about it with Harry before. How
could I not? He's been in my life nearly every day for years now and he's not
bad looking. A little shorter than I prefer but still, those eyes are enough to
make me forget everything else.
Except for my sweating palms. I can't seem to forget them.
"Are you going to be okay?" I ask, trying to calm my own nerves.
"I think so. And you?" he asks.
"Yes," is all I say in reply.
We somehow manage to find the castle in short order and head towards his room.
I have my own room, being Head Girl and all, but he can't get in. I suppose he
assumes his roommates won't be returning from Hogsmeade any time soon or maybe
they have some deal about getting the room to themselves. I hope it doesn't
smell like sweaty Quidditch socks and old treacle tarts. It's bad enough that I
now smell like the butterbeer I spilled all over myself.
No one in the entire castle seems to notice us as we're always together anyway.
All that's missing from our group is Ron and his newest constant companion,
Luna. They said they were heading off to look at the Shrieking Shack, which
Harry and I both know means they're sneaking off to snog somewhere. I hope they
weren't planning on coming back here.
We get to the dorm room and Harry looks nervous as he lets me in. I make sure
to lock the door with a spell none of his roommates will be able to get past.
His area is neat and tidy, much to my surprise, and I somehow suspect Dobby
might have something to do with that. He's still fond of Harry and probably
cleans up his mess. Ron's area could certainly use some help.
I watch as Harry pulls off his robes and checks through some notes Hedwig left
behind.
"Can I get out of these clothes? They're covered in butterbeer and it's rather
uncomfortable. Very wet and sticky," I say and he looks up from the note in his
hand to me, his eyes peering over the frames of his glasses.
"Er -- would you like something of mine to wear?" he asks and I go over to his
trunk, pulling it open. "There should be some clean shirts in there and then .
. ."
"How about this?" I ask, pulling out his Quidditch robes. He looks hesitant for
a moment and then he grins.
"Are you serious?"
"Always. Sometimes, I'm too serious," I say, starting to strip out of my own
clothing, leaving it on the floor in a butterbeer stained puddle around my
feet. Harry watches as I get down to my bra and knickers. "Would you like to
help?"
Drawn slowly towards me as if by some invisible force (is the promise of sex
invisible?) he comes my way, his eyes glazed over now. His tongue darts out and
he licks his lips. I'm still so nervous I might melt to the floor with my
clothing but I manage to stand tall, wishing I had wiped my hands on my skirt
before I took it off.
He takes the robes from my hands and gently turns me around, unclasping my bra
from behind and letting it slip down my arms. I fully expect him to turn me
back around so he can look but he doesn't just yet. He doesn't touch my
knickers either but instead he helps me slip into his Quidditch robes.
"There's no hurry," says Harry, his voice softer than a sigh. "No one said that
once has to go by in a rush."
"Good," I say, closing my eyes briefly and sighing, letting all my nervousness
flow out of my body. Pulling the scarlet cloth tightly around me, I turn around
to face him. "I'm nervous."
I don't really have to tell him that. My cracking voice and the fact that my
hands won't stop shaking should be enough to give that away. I haven't been
this nervous since the first time I did this. Hopefully, this will turn out
better than that did.
We stare at each other and he takes a step back, putting his hands out to me. I
reach for him and discover that his palms are just as sweaty as mine. Where did
that all too confident Harry go -- the one who asked me here in the first
place? Do I scare him? I can't imagine why. I'm just Hermione Granger, dear old
friend.
"How do you... or rather, where would you... oh, bloody hell!" he says with a
laugh. "I don't even know what to ask, apparently. I never expected . . . I
didn't think you'd say yes. I never expected for this to happen."
"Neither did I."
Thought about a few hundred times, yes. Dreamed about it, sure. Expected it?
Never.
He's taking me with him across the room and with one quick motion, I end up
wrapped in his arms. This time, when his mouth meets mine, it's right. Perfect,
actually. There's no fumbling around at all as his tongue parts my lips and
touches mine, sending sparks of desire through me. He doesn't grope at me under
the robes but instead, places a hand on either side of my face, holding me in
this kiss. Like I was going anywhere.
As he keeps kissing me, my hands go to his shirt, pulling it out of his pants
so I can get under there and touch him. His skin is so warm it's everything I
can do not to rip his clothing off right here. Slow, I remind myself. If it's
only once, I want it to be slow.
Stepping back from the kiss, he looks at me with so much need in his eyes that
I almost give up on the whole slow thing. Once is going to be hard enough. Once
and slow is nearly impossible.
"Want to go to bed with me?" he asks and I nod my head. He pulls me toward the
four-poster and I remind myself to breathe. Breathing is very important at a
time like this. Must have oxygen. After landing in the bed, he kicks off his
shoes and pulls the curtains shut before turning my way and I notice his eyes
traveling slowly over my body. The robes I have on slipped open, exposing my
breasts and that's where his eyes linger a while before settling on my face.
"Ever do it with a girl in Quidditch robes?" I ask and his eyes dart away. I
mentally kick myself for asking something I didn't really want to know the
answer to in the first place. "Never mind. Don't answer that."
"But she wasn't in my Quidditch robes and that changes everything. You look
amazing," he says, his fingers running across the fabric and pulling it further
aside, revealing more of me. "Did you ever do this for Viktor?" This time, it's
my eyes that dart away. "Never mind. I really don't want to know."
None of that really matters anyway since this is only going to be a one time
deal. He brushes the edge of his thumb across one of my nipples and it hardens
under his touch. I watch him, his eyes fixated on what he's doing and it isn't
long before his mouth is replacing his thumb. His tongue lapping against me
sends a white-hot bolt of arousal burning through my body. Tangling my fingers
through his hair, I hold him there just a little longer before he moves his
mouth to my other breast. His hand slides down my body and I part my legs for
him, gasping when he pushes my knickers aside and touches me but not for long.
Pulling his hand away, he shushes me when I protest and tugs my knickers off
and sets them aside with his glasses.
Placing a flutter of kisses over my stomach, he turns himself around on the bed
and, realizing what he's going to do, I suck in a deep breath and hold it.
There's a first time for everything and this is the first time anyone has done
this to me. His tongue darts out, finding my clit right away, and the breath I
was holding comes out in a long, soft 'oh' of pleasure.
My back arches up and I find myself moving closer to his mouth, wanting ...
what more could I want? He slips his fingers into me, slowly drawing them out
before sliding them back in again and now I really couldn't want for more.
Reaching out, I touch him and wish he'd undressed before we got this far. When
my hand presses against the erection straining against the front of his jeans,
I feel his tongue stutter and he misses a beat or two. I can't think past what
he's doing to me and I pull my hand away. He'll get his later but right now, I
just want to feel this.
Harry slips off the bed and onto his knees, the curtain going askew. He helps
me move until my legs are hooked over his shoulders and I'm at the edge of the
mattress, my fingers clutching his bedspread, his Quidditch robes nearly
falling off my shoulders. Like this, he's able to run his tongue everywhere,
dipping it inside of me before moving back to my clit again. I'm going to
dissolve into a puddle of blissful goo right here on his bed. Everyone will
just think it was a spell gone wrong.
His tongue darts against me faster and harder and I don't want to come just
yet. If this is the one chance I get to have him do this to me, I want it to
last.
It's not going to.
When he sucks my clit between his lips, I finally do spill over the top and the
rest of the world just floats away with me. When the waves traveling through my
body finally subside, I find him smiling, looking very pleased with himself.
Probably not as pleased as I am with him, though.
"Come here," I say, my voice raspy with desire. We both end up properly on the
bed and I tug his shirt up and over his head. I can't manage the zipper on his
jeans with my shaking hands and he does it for me, pulling them and his
underwear down and kicking them off the bed.
"Oh, wait," he says, reaching for his jeans and pulling his wand out of his
back pocket. "How do you want to do this? Me or you?"
I know perfectly well what he's talking about and I don't want him messing with
magic anywhere near my body in his excited state so I tell him he can do it to
himself. A few words and a flick of his wand later and he's done, putting the
wand and his nearly forgotten glasses carefully on his bedside table.
Harry faces me, his face flushed and his eyes the darkest green I've ever seen
them, and I have to tell myself to breathe again. If I stop doing that now,
he's not going to get much out of this.
He moves his robes out of the way and settles between my thighs, pushing in
slowly, filling me completely. I wrap my legs around his waist, letting him
sink in further and his eyes flutter shut. Harry's forehead is already damp
with sweat and I push his hair away from his eyes before I put my hands on his
arms, my fingers holding on tight. Opening his eyes and locking them onto mine,
he starts to move. I can see that he's striving to go slow and make it last and
I don't know whether that's for me or for him.
"Faster," I coax, letting him know it's okay to do what he wants and with that,
he lets go. It feels incredible, having him thrust into me this hard and this
fast and the look on his face is one I never want to forget. It's pure carnal
desire, needful and wanting.
He kneels and my legs fall from around his waist. Moving them until they are
nearly pressed to my chest, he slams into me ever deeper than before and I gasp
with each stroke he makes. Neither of us is silent now and if anyone came to
the door, they'd know immediately what was going on. I don't think I really
care.
I feel him tense up and watch as he closes his eyes and bites his lower lip.
He's so very close and even before it's over, I find myself regretting that we
said once. I don't want this thing with him to end so soon.
Clenching my inner muscles around him, he face twists into an expression of
utter satisfaction as he comes, thrusting in hard one last time. My legs wrap
around him once more as he falls on top of me, both of us wet with sweat, me
more so than him since I'm the one wearing Quidditch robes. I don't want him to
pull out of my body just yet and I hold him there as he rides out his climax.
His robes are tangled around me and they've got to be a complete mess by now.
When he's done, he opens his eyes and looks at me, smiling. "Wow," is all he
says and I lift my head up enough to kiss his lips. "Good thing Quidditch
season is over or I'd never be able to wear those robes again without thinking
of this because this was... wow."
"You already said that," I say, feeling incredibly content and happy now.
"I know. I don't know what else to say," he says, still smiling.
"You could say... how about twice?"
With that, his grin grows even wider.
**********
The End
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