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Enraged… yes, that was probably the best way to describe it. Hermione Jane Granger, smartest witch of her generation and bookworm extraordinaire, was utterly enraged with the stupidity she’d just overheard.
Over the last five months, herself and Harry had been alone in a tent, traipsing over the United Kingdom in the hopes of finding Lord Voldemort’s Horcruxes, ancient spelled items that prevented his death. Until they died, he’d be immortal. Bastard…
However, three months ago, the third member of their Trio, Ronald Bloody Weasley, had pissed off in the middle of the day, ranting about how Harry had no idea and no hope, leaving them alone. She’d been distraught, of course, since they always did their best work as a trio. But recently, it’d been just her and Harry, and it allowed Hermione to fuel some of her cleaner fantasies about what it would be like to live with the Boy-Who-Lived in a more… domestic setting.
Hermione, naturally, hadn’t told Harry about her burning desire to make babies with him, since the prat seemed utterly clueless about women. He’d dated two girls previously, Cho ‘Hosepipe’ Chang and Ginny ‘Broomstick’ Weasley, and both of those relationships had been utterly pants. What Harry needed, she kept telling herself, was to sit down with a good bookworm and bump uglies.
Of course, Harry was thicker than a brick sandwich when it came to these things. Even when Hermione had been sitting crying, feeling abandoned by Ron (and the Wizarding world in general), Harry hadn’t come up to her and offered a nice, comforting shag. She knew that he had ‘issues’ from the Dursleys, but it couldn’t get much plainer; distraught, horny girl and buff, good-looking lad. Sex equals happies.
And now, after hearing the… the complete bollocks he’d just said! She could feel her lips twitch as she growled. All because of three stupid sentences from her friend: “She’s like my sister. I love her like a sister and I reckon that she feels the same way about me. It’s always been like that.”
A sister? A fucking sister? She most certainly did not think of Harry as her brother. Instead, when she thought of Harry, she pictured whipped cream and erections, custard and nipples, and her favourite, him sticking his outy bit in her inny bit. Repeatedly. Often.
And he’d just said she was his bloody sister! Prat!
Oh, no… Hermione thought evilly. I’m not his fucking sister… I’ll show him I’m not his sister!
Harry stepped into the tent, his hand on Ron’s arm as he dragged him inside. “Hermione, look who’s… Hermione!” He was forced to step back as Hermione let loose a beautiful, a truly beautiful, roundhouse right, that knocked a grinning Ron completely on his arse and completely out cold. With a smooth spin, she grabbed her wand from Harry’s hand.
“What are you doing?” He asked, quietly, taking a subtle step back.
“Harry…” Hermione ground out through clenched teeth, “come with me.”
She led him to the small bunk area, and pointed at her bed. “Sit down.”
“Sit down!” Hermione roared, making Harry immediately sit. He was tempted to see if begging would stop her ire, knowing that it would be futile. A pissed Hermione was a dangerous Hermione.
“Do you know what I heard a few minutes ago?” She asked, tapping her wand between her fingers, causing sparks to come from the end. “When I woke up, and saw that you were gone? I listened at the doorway, and I heard you speaking, Harry… I’ve never been so disgusted in my life.”
“What?” Harry asked. “What did I do?”
“You spoke, Harry!” Hermione snapped. “And I think Ron must have infected you, because you spoke nothing but stupid, inane ramblings!”
Harry blinked. “Eh?”
“You annoyed the crap out of me, Harry… and you must pay.” With a flourish, Hermione aimed her wand at Harry. “Lie down.”
Harry tried to stand up, not at all comfortable with Hermione’s wand aimed between his eyes. “Hermione, what’re you-”
“I… said… lie… down…” Hermione whispered dangerously, the end of her wand glowing.
Gulping, Harry sat back down, before lying on the bed.
“Hands above your head!” Hermione snarled, making Harry jump to obey. A quick flick of Hermione’s wand sent thin brown ropes around Harry’s wrists, tying him to the headboard.
“Hermione, what’re you doing?” Harry asked quietly, hoping that a calm, measured response would help to calm the clearly-infuriated witch down. He was wrong.
“Your sister, Potter?” Hermione spat. “Your fucking sister?”
“You swore…” Harry blinked. “Hermione, are you okay?”
“No, I’m not!” She shrieked angrily. “You think I love you like a sister? How can you be so bloody blind, Potter?”
“I’m confused.” Harry said bluntly.
Hermione perched on the edge of the bed, reaching up to gently caress his face. “Harry?” She asked sweetly.
“You’re wrong. And quite stupid.” She grasped his chin so firmly, he couldn’t move… and the bowel-loosening fear didn’t help, either. “I don’t love you like a sister. I fancy your arse off. I want you to blast a baby into my belly, not braid my hair! And you never bloody noticed!”
“Still confused.” Harry said, whimpering slightly when Hermione’s grip tightened. “Hermione, what are you doing?”
“I’m having to spell out the bloody obvious.” She snarled. “We’re going to fuck, Harry. You and me, right here, right now.”
Hermione released his chin and stood up, brandishing her wand again. A quick flick removed Harry’s clothes, leaving him with nothing but his glasses. Hermione thought for a moment, then cast a warming charm round the bed. The last thing she wanted or needed was shrinkage.
Casually, she reached up and pulled off her jumper, leaving her clad in t-shirt and bra. “You know, Harry… originally when I planned to do this, I was gonna sit down with you and calmly brainwash you to my way of thinking. Now… I’ve scrapped that idea. I’m gonna force the issue.”
“F-Force?” Harry gulped. He was feeling just a tad nervous.
With a lecherous grin, Hermione reached up and pulled off her t-shirt, leaving her bra (complete with straining nipples) as Harry’s sole focus. Like a true gentleman, though, Harry closed his eyes and turned away. “Oh no you don’t!” Hermione snapped, reaching out and grabbing his face again. “You’re going to watch, Potter!”
Harry was terrified at this point. Hermione was stripping in front of him… and forcing him to watch… and she had really nice breasts…
The bra was unclipped and casually tossed onto the floor, leaving Hermione nude from the top up. Harry felt a slight stirring in his crotch, but concentrated on images of Umbridge in a bikini… with a riding crop… spanking Mr. Filch… yeah, that worked. The stirring gradually began to fade away.
While he was picturing the truly revolting scene, Hermione tossed her wand onto the small bedside table, and unbuttoned her jeans. Harry’s attention was slowly being forced to the bits she was uncovering… and it was really hard not to stare at her chest.
Hermione shimmied out of her jeans, leaving her with just panties and socks. The socks quickly joined the jeans in the pile of discarded clothing. Clad in just a pair of small black panties, Hermione was a formidable sight. “You know, Potter… just doing this has turned me on. Looking at you naked, feeling your eyes on me…” She shivered lightly as she scraped her fingers lightly over the gusset of her panties. “Oh, look… they’re all wet…” She cooed, before grabbing the sides and lowering them down. She quickly scooped them up, twirling them round her finger.
At this point, Harry’s eyes had dropped to the newly-uncovered crotch, and he couldn’t stop the stirring this time. Hermione was really very attractive, and he knew, with absolutely no shadow of doubt, that she was definitely a natural brunette… and the carpet certainly matched the curtains for bushiness…
Hermione could almost read his mind. “Yes,” she said impishly, “my bush is bushy, Harry. Get over it.” She took a step closer to the bed, leaning ever closer. “And do you know what comes now?” She asked coyly.
Trembling, Harry shook his head.
“I’m gonna place my knickers over your nose, Harry.” She said lovingly, doing just that and arranging them so the damp gusset was directly over his nostrils. “But this is only the beginning, Harry.” She grinned to herself as she watched Harry sniff experimentally. Damn, that was hot…
Slowly, she climbed onto the bed, straddling his chest and tucking her knees right under his armpits. Her little kitty was about six inches from Harry’s head, and she relished in the feeling that he was watching her.
“I’m gonna play with myself, Harry.” Hermione said firmly. “And you’re going to watch, aren’t you?”
He wanted to shake his head in refusal, thinking this wasn’t right and wasn’t respectful to her, but that’d dislodge the pleasant fragrance from his nose. Not to mention that he was completely at her mercy at the moment, since he didn’t have a wand and he couldn’t release the restraints. Slowly, he sighed, then nodded slightly.
“Good boy…” Hermione cooed. “You can learn, Potter.”
“Hermione…” He slurred into her knickers. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because your scrawny arse is mine, Potter.” Hermione said simply. “For seven years I’ve covered your back in everything… now I want my reward. You’re it.” To make certain he was paying attention, Hermione sensuously licked the tip of her finger, before gently rubbing it down her breastbone. The trip from mouth to crotch took fifteen seconds, but these were fifteen of the longest seconds in Harry’s life.
Before she did… whatever she was planning to do, she began to lightly run her fingers through her pubes. To Harry, it was a compelling sight. They look so silky… He mused absently, before realising he was having inappropriate thoughts about the girl who well have been his sister. He wriggled slightly, feeling that stirring escalate further.
Hermione, in the mean time, was enjoying the sensation. She’d always enjoyed stroking her kitty, not only as some masturbation foreplay, but just because it was very relaxing. The look on Harry’s face was compelling, almost prompting her to carry on with what she was doing… not that she had any inclination to stop.
Slowly, she moved her hand lower, sighing happily as she rubbed over her clit, before pushing her finger ever-so-slightly into her opening. She didn’t want a dry finger rubbing that little bundle of nerves, after all, and the look on Harry’s face was more than making her wet. As she moved her fingers back up, she noticed Harry’s eyes lock onto the tip of her finger.
Wait… this isn’t the best view. She thought. She altered her stance slightly, leaning back as far as she could, but not too far that she couldn’t see Harry’s face. That was almost the point, really; if Harry wasn’t watching, he’d keep on with those silly bloody notions of sisterhood and nobility, and the itch she had needed scratching would be ignored…
Harry watched her lean back, and his eyes widened as her… he couldn’t bring himself to refer to it by name, that place opened up like a flower. That’s really pink… He mused absently, and why’s it shiny?
“Are you watching, Harry?” Hermione asked huskily. “Are you watching me pleasure myself right in front of you?”
Harry nodded vigorously, pouting when Hermione’s knickers fell off his face.
“Oh, that won’t do at all.” Hermione said, reached forward with her free hand to put them back. “Can you smell my arousal, Harry? Can you smell how wet and horny you make me?”
“Mmmhmm.” Harry groaned, watching as Hermione resumed her wanton pose.
“Then watch now. I’m gonna make myself cum for you, Harry.”
Hermione’s hand began moving in a leisurely circle, Harry’s eyes locked onto the sight like a hawk. The circling motion was smooth and easy, and Harry could see the small nub expertly twist and move around her finger. For a moment, just a brief moment, he wondered what it would feel like under his finger…
“It’s so good…” Hermione said breathily, enjoying the enthralled look on his face. This was way better than porn! “Can you see what you do to me, Harry?”
“Hermione…” He groaned lightly.
“Watch me cum, Harry!” Hermione commanded, speeding up her diddling. She was close; the stimulation was good, but the fact that she’d plopped herself on Harry’s chest and was doing this right in front of his face? Far better.
With her free hand, she reached up and pinched her left nipple lightly, waiting until the nipple was hard until she began pinch/tugs. She quickly moved from her left to her right, enjoying the feeling. Fortunately, Hermione was an expert at multi-tasking, and never lost her stroke on her clit.
Harry was lost; which should he look at? Those little pink nipples being pinched, or the small pink nub being manhandled so expertly… and why was he getting an erection from this? Surely he should have been disgusted at watching his practically-sister masturbate… right?
Hermione could feel his arousal, and it fed smoothly into her own. Her nipples began to feel tighter, and she could tell she was getting wetter. Her finger sped up, making her moan in contentment. In the bottom of her belly, a burning sensation started, making her gasp as it pooled just above her crotch.
“Harry…” Hermione groaned, “I’m gonna cum for you, Harry… I’m gonna cum!” On the final word, Hermione’s thighs clamped around Harry’s chest. Her finger sped up, prolonging the ecstasy she felt. She felt an urge to close her eyes and enjoy it, but watching Harry, who’s eyes were wide and beginning to darken with lust, was much better for her orgasm.
Normally, she stopped after her first orgasm, wanting to enjoy the aftershocks, but she wanted Harry to watch her pleasure herself. She sped up her diddling, making it look like she was furious with her clit and wanted to punish it.
Harry still couldn’t take his eyes off her. His chest hurt a little from where she’d clamped down, but he wouldn’t, he couldn’t stop this. Slowly, he raised his eyes up, passing her breasts and starring into the smouldering pools of lust that had become her eyes. She was staring intently at him, and he was like a fly trapped in amber. Those eyes had locked him in… he knew she was still fondling herself, since he could feel her movements, but those eyes…
Hermione’s hand was a blur as she drove herself to another orgasm, crying out in a way that would forever obliterate Harry’s ‘sisterly’ feelings; “Oh, god… Harry!” Again, her thighs locked on his chest, driving the air from his lungs, but breathing didn’t matter when a goddess was masturbating on his chest.
Slowly, Hermione lowered herself down, shuffling backwards until her bum hit a fleshy pole. She was about to say something, but had an impish idea. She lifted her legs over him, continuing to move backwards until she was kneeling between his thighs.
Harry’s eyes widened considerably as he took in her stance; she was in the perfect spot to give him… pleasure. Hermione’s hand reached up, as though she was about take him in hand… but she allowed it to drop on his thigh.
“Oh, wait…” She said demurely, “I forgot… you think of me as a sister, Harry. You wouldn’t want me touching you, would you?”
“Hermione…” He groaned.
“What, Harry?” She blew on his member, enjoying the full twitch. “You said you love me like a sister. You would want your sister rubbing your cock, would you? You wouldn’t want your sister taking that big cock into her mouth and sucking it like a lollipop, would you?” She gave a look of mock-disappointment. “Such a shame, brother… I was looking forward to tasting this beautiful dick…”
“Hermione, what do you want from me?” Harry moaned in pure frustration.
“Nothing, brother dear.” Hermione replied coyly.
“Then why are you doing this?”
“Because I’m not your sister, Harry. I’m a woman who wants to taste you, lick you, ride you… it’s you who thinks of me as a sister, Potter. Not me.”
“What, Harry?” Hermione reached out and gently stroked a single finger from base to tip, smiling to herself as he moaned. “Still think of me as a sister?”
“Good, otherwise you’d be sick in the head.” Hermione said, wrapping a hand around Harry’s tool and giving one firm stroke, before releasing him. “Harry?”
Slowly, he looked up, a look of agonised frustration on his face.
“If I was your sister, Potter, you wouldn’t be wanting to bury this cock in me, would you?”
He shook his head quickly.
“If I was your sister, you wouldn’t be sniffing my panties like you are, would you?”
Another shake of the head.
“If I climb on top of you and let my pussy swallow this cock…” She smiled at him as his eyes, somehow, widened even more, “you’d want that?”
His nodding was emphatic.
“Then tell me, Harry. Tell me that you want to fuck me. Tell me that you want to feel my pussy wrapped round your cock and cum on you.”
“Please, Hermione!” Harry cried out.
“Please what, Harry?”
“Please fuck me!” He near-demanded.
“Thank you.” Hermione quickly moved forward, raising herself up, positioning Harry’s cock between her lips and dropping down, feeling her pussy swallow him completely. “Ooh…”
Harry’s cock wasn’t gargantuan. He was about eight inches long, not superhuman and certainly respectable, but he was monstrously thick. A thick cock and a tight, virgin kitty on a fairly slender girl meant two things; Hermione was being stretched deliciously, and Harry was being squeezed by a velvet vice. Neither of them could even think of stopping this.
Hermione braced her knees and lifted up, before slamming herself back down. The feeling was just as intense. Again bracing herself, Hermione clenched every muscle she could as she lifted herself, before slamming back down.
“H-Hermione…” Harry gasped. “If you keep d-doing that…”
“You’ll cum in me.” Hermione hissed as she slammed down again. “Yes, you will… you’d better bloody cum in me, Potter!”
Closing his eyes, Harry realised several things; he didn’t want this to end, and he didn’t know if the rumours about teenaged recovery time would apply to him and more importantly… he didn’t want to let Hermione down. As comforting as blowing his bags would be (and based on the teasing, it’d be very satisfying), he knew she’d be disappointed. He began mentally chanting an incantation, one of the ones Sirius had told him about. It would delay his orgasm slightly. Not long, but hopefully enough to make Hermione have another one or two of those potently erotic orgasms.
“Come on, Harry, fuck me back!” Hermione demanded.
Harry watched for a moment, using almost all of his concentration to keep the incantation going. When he was fully inside her, he pushed his hips as far down into the mattress as he could. Hermione again squeezed him and raised herself up. Once she was at the top, he could see her preparing to slam herself down. The instant she started moving, he bucked his hips up as fast and as hard as he could, the couple slamming together with the force of a freight train.
Hermione, generously, orgasmed on the spot as Harry pounded into her. “Fuck, Harry!” She gasped, her entire pussy clenching round the invader. “Do that again!” She demanded, bracing herself for another punishing thrust.
The pair quickly fell into a rhythm; Harry thrusting up with every ounce of strength, while Hermione slammed herself down with every ounce of hers. It wasn’t making love, or even having sex; it was brutal, pounding fucking, and Hermione couldn’t be happier. She was finally, after so many years of fantasising, fucking Harry Potter.
“Hermione…” Harry groaned as he felt a curious, yet powerful, tingling in his balls. He knew what was coming… and the wording wasn’t lost on him. “I’m gonna-”
“Not yet!” Hermione commanded. “I want one more…” Deciding that keeping him tied up at this point was quite unfair, Hermione plucked at her wand on the small bedside table. After four attempts, she finally grabbed it and silently removed his restraints.
Harry immediately lurched upwards, grabbing Hermione and kissing her as passionately as he could. For a brief moment, their rhythm was disturbed.
“No, keep going!” Hermione pleaded. “I’m so close, Harry…”
Now able to move properly, Harry grabbed her hips and dropped backwards. Hermione was able to discover that when both partners were able to co-ordinate their movements, it was so much better, as Harry was able to pull her down when he thrust up. The double sensations were driving her relentlessly onwards to cum again, and she couldn’t wait. “P-Please, Harry…” She moaned.
Harry’s left hand detached from her hip, reaching up to pluck at her right nipple, just as he’d seen her doing. Instead of just tugging, he gave the nipple a little pinch, before rolling it between the tip of his finger and thumb.
“Fuck!” Hermione screeched as this was enough to make her cum. Her pussy contracted even tighter on Harry’s abused Hampton, making him gasp out his own orgasm. A spurt of hot fluid made him keen loudly, squeezing Hermione’s nipple and hip firmly.
Hermione, not wanting this one to end, moved up slightly and thrust back down, pitiful compared to what they’d been doing seconds earlier, but enough to make them both moan loudly. She could feel his spunk shooting into her, and was momentarily surprised by just how warm it was. She knew, academically, that it’d be warm, but those books hadn’t prepared her for the actual feeling of a blast of semen painting her insides… She sighed happily as she slumped forward onto Harry’s chest, feeling his arms instinctively wrap around her.
Harry looked up, seeing nothing but Hermione’s bushy hair (on her head, this time,) and felt contentment. However, he’d received the answer to one of his questions; did he have standard teenage stamina? The answer was, ‘yes’. He hadn’t lost his erection, even though he’d pumped what felt like a gallon of his little swimmers into Hermione.
“Hermione?” He whispered quietly.
“Mmm?” Hermione moaned softly.
“We’re not done yet.”
Hermione slowly, almost painfully, lifted her head up. “What?”
Keeping his grip, Harry rolled them over so her was on top. “We’ve not finished yet.”
She just blinked in post-coital confusion as he levered himself upright, and gently grasped her shoulder and hip. Hermione yelped as she found herself being rolled over, and Harry’s strong hands had taken a firm grip on her hips. He was pulling gently. What the hell’s he doing? She wondered groggily, and allowed herself to be lifted. Harry’s knee gently pressed at the back of her thigh. Oh… he wants me on my hands and knees… why?
As if in answer to her silent question, Harry spoke. “You were being such a bitch to me, Hermione…” he growled, “I thought you might like it doggy style.” He released her hips, gently pulling her thighs apart before she felt the monstrous head pressing against her opening.
“Oh, god…” She whimpered. He hasn’t gone soft… he’s gonna fuck me again… doggy style… what’s the point of- Her musing was cut off as Harry smoothly sheathed himself inside her again, all the way. She could feel his little head rubbing her g-spot, something that hadn’t happened the first time, and she could feel another orgasm starting.
Feeling impish, Hermione pushed up with her hands, just enough so she was properly on hands and knees, and looked over her shoulder at him. “Woof…” She said.
“Stop it…” Harry grunted as he pulled back, then thrust forward again.
Hermione let out a small bark as her orgasm ripped through her. She hadn’t planned on making that noise, but the moment made her giggle, which was abruptly cut off as Harry again thrust into her.
“Fuck…” She gasped, feeling that delicious rubbing yet again.
“Don’t bark, Hermione…” Harry near-shouted. “Just… god…”
“Come on, Harry!” Hermione cajoled, thrusting backward as he thrust forward, moaning as their hips connected with a ‘slap’ sound. “Fuck me… make me scream!”
Deciding to take this instruction as literal, Harry licked thumb and forefinger, and reached round her hip, almost instinctively homing in on her clit. Hermione gasped loudly as Harry began to caress it, before pressing down and swirling his finger round. All the while, he kept up that brutally enjoyable pounding on her delicate bits.
Hermione screamed seven seconds later as her crotch erupted in fire. It felt like she was burning up as her orgasm made her arms and legs buckle, but Harry’s free arm had quickly snaked under her hips, holding her up.
“Oh god…” She groaned. “Harry, cum in me!” She cried out. “Please, Harry, cum in me!”
Harry wasn’t sure if she was either cum-hungry (he hoped she was) or was getting sore/tired (he hoped like bloody hell she wasn’t), but he was still a bit away from cumming again. “No… not yet.” He gasped out as he abused her poor little kitty.
“I… I… Harry!” Hermione screamed hoarsely as she came again, her pussy contracting painfully on Harry’s cock, but he still kept going.
At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to last too much longer, but he honestly didn’t know if this would happen again, and if it didn’t, well… he wanted to make certain that he enjoyed this one. He doubled his pace, wanting to go out in a blaze of glory.
Again, Hermione cried out as her abused body had yet another orgasm. This long screwing session was definitely getting to her. She estimated she had one more before she curled into the foetal position and cried.
“Hermione…” Harry whimpered, feeling his abused organ get ready for another spitting session.
“P-Please, H-Harry…” Hermione gasped. “P-Please f-f-finish…”
Harry roared in combination pain/pleasure as he finally let go. It felt like he was cumming molten lava, but there was enough ecstasy to cancel out the pain. He slumped forward onto Hermione, slipping out of her pussy and nearly crying as the cooler air hit his friction burns. Using the last of his energy, he rolled to the side, slumping on the bed next to her.
“Bloody hell…” Hermione moaned.
“You… you okay?” Harry asked through his pants.
“Just about…” Hermione said, slowly turning herself until she was on her side and facing him. “Harry?”
“Do you still see me as a sister?”
Harry looked faintly nauseated. “No…”
“Will you stay with me?” She asked, looking shyly at him. Now the act was over, she felt like she had no courage left.
“And leave… an epic shag like you?” Harry said, grinning. “Just as long as you don’t tie me up again, and don’t fucking bark… I think we’ll do quite well together.”
Hermione nodded as she slumped forwards, resting her head on his chest. “Harry?”
“I love you, you know.”
She reached up with a trembling hand, pressing a finger to his lips. “Don’t say anything until you’re sure, Harry. Just… just hold me. Tell me we’ll get through this war, together. Tell me we can talk about this when You-Know-Who’s dead.”
“We will.” Harry promised. “You know I already love you, Hermione… certainly not like a sister… but romantic love… I just-”
“Harry, shut up. I’m tired. You wore me out. We’ll talk later.”
Hermione snuggled closer.
“What happens if Ron wakes up?”
One eye lazily drifted open. “Fuck him. He made his choice when he ran off and abandoned us.”
“I’d rather not fuck him.” Harry replied dryly. “And I’d rather not show him my red and raw knob at the moment.”
Arm flailing, Hermione reached up for her wand. She aimed in Ron’s general direction and cast multiple Stupefy spells. “That should hold him ’til we wake up.”
Dropping her wand back, Hermione again snuggled next to Harry.
“Bloody hell, Harry!” Hermione groaned. “Don’t you know what post-coital bliss is?”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“It’s where we reflect quietly on what we’ve just done.” She lifted her head a fraction of an inch. “Being a bloke, you’re supposed to immediately start snoring. I’m knackered, Harry. Let me sleep.”
“One thing before you do?”
“What?” The whine in Hermione’s voice made Harry smile.
“Are we gonna do this again?”
“In the morning.” Hermione promised. “Every morning, Harry. Now sleep, you gormless tit. I’m tired.” Thirty seconds later, Hermione let out an enormous snore.
“Oh… this’ll be fun.”