Magical Mishap Ch.4

Chapter 4 - The Reason

"Oh," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose like she'd caught a whiff of something particularly unpleasant, "that is one of the awful books I was moving to the Restricted Section of the library I'm setting up."

She shifted a bit when she said it, and Harry had to bite his tongue hard to stop himself groaning like a complete tosser. Being inside Hermione was the absolute best. She felt incredible wrapped around him. Her body was warm and snug and absolutely perfect, making it impossible to focus on her lecture about "archaic matrimonial nonsense" and "disgusting medieval practices."

But something was nagging at the back of his mind, something that didn't quite add up about this whole situation. When he tried to catch her after she fell off the ladder and their bodies had collided in that utterly insane accident, his cock had just slid right in. Hermione hadn't cried out in pain and there was no resistance whatsoever, or difficulty at all. Nothing but a soft, welcoming heat that had swallowed him whole. His cock had found her entrance and pushed straight in like it belonged there. Which meant Hermione hadn't just been slightly aroused when he walked in.

His brilliant, bossy best mate had been dripping wet and ready to be fucked.

"The book describes these ancient matrimonial contracts," Hermione was going on, waving one hand about while keeping the other planted on his chest. Her palm was burning hot against his skin and and Harry wondered if she could feel his heart hammering against his ribs. "Pure-blood families would use them to arrange these... encounters... to activate bonding magic that would make it impossible for the couple to separate until conception was achieved."

Harry tried to pay attention. Really, he did. But Merlin's beard, being inside Hermione Granger was the best thing that had ever happened to his cock. And he'd had his fair share of experiences since leaving Hogwarts The Patil twins had been willing to do anything for a chance to shag the Boy-Who-Lived. Cho had been a right screamer when he'd bent her over her kitchen table and given her a right good seeing-to. Daphne Greengrass could suck cock like a proper slag, taking him right down her throat without even gagging. But none of them, not a single one, came close to this.

But this... this was different somehow. This was Hermione. His Hermione.

"The idea was that once married, the pure-blood families would arrange these... encounters... to activate bonding magic that would make it impossible for the couple to separate until conception was achieved."

Harry stared at up her. "You're having me on."

"I most certainly am not!" Hermione snapped back, though she let out a sharp little gasp when he shifted beneath her and his cock nudged deeper. "It's barbaric, disgusting, medieval rubbish, which is exactly why I was moving it to the Restricted Section!"

The ancient tome wedged between them glowed like a beacon now, pulsing with golden light that made the letters on the cover dance about like they were alive rearranging themselves.

"Why is it glowing?"

Hermione went red as a postbox and looked away, suddenly finding the dusty book spines behind his head absolutely fascinating. "I might have... activated it. Earlier. Before you arrived." The words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush. "It was purely academic curiosity, you understand. I thought nothing would happen without a wizard present, but then I started getting rather... well, stimulated by the magic, and I realized I should move it to the Restricted Section immediately, which is when you—"

Harry's eyes widened as understanding dawned. "That's why you were already—"

"Already what?" Hermione demanded.

"You were… wet?" Harry struggled to find a delicate way to phrase it. He didn't want to make her feel bad.

"Wet?" Hermione squeaked, going even redder if that was possible. "Yes, well, that would be a side effect of the spell, I imagine."

"I thought you were just excited about being surrounded by rare magical books."

Hermione gave him an incredulous look. "Harry James Potter, I do not get aroused by books!"

"Right. Obviously." Harry paused. "So you were aroused, but not by the books."

Hermione made a strangled noise and covered her face with both hands. Even with her face hidden, Harry could see how her ears had gone bright red. "I was conducting research! The spell was designed to... to prepare the witch for... for optimal conditions. When I felt myself getting aroused, I knew it was dangerous and tried to relocate it immediately. Then you came barging in here without any clothes on?"

"So ancient sex magic got Britain's brightest witch all hot and bothered," Harry nodded. "Makes perfect sense."

"It was harmless academic research!" Hermione defended herself. "How was I supposed to know you'd be prancing about with no clothes on!"

"In my own home," Harry pointed out reasonably. "That's a bit rich, coming from someone who was getting herself all worked up over a sex manual."

"It's not a sex manual!" Hermione protested indignantly, her cheeks burning even brighter.

"Course not," Harry agreed with mock solemnity. "It's a historical sex manual. Much more respectable."

Despite her mortification, Hermione couldn't stop the giggles that bubbled up at his ridiculous formal tone. "You're absolutely terrible, Harry Potter. Honestly!"

"I try my best," Harry said. "Though I have to say, your timing was spot on. Walking in here to find you all worked up and ready for action. Better than Christmas morning, this is."

"Harry!" Hermione scolded, though she was fighting back more giggles. "You cannot say things like that!"

"Why not? It's the truth, innit?" Harry grinned. "I mean, look at the evidence. Ancient sex book gets my brilliant best mate all hot and bothered, then in walks her devastatingly handsome best friend, his cock out and—"

"Devastatingly handsome?" Hermione snorted with laughter. "Your head is going to explode from all that ego, Harry."

"Not just my head that's massive," Harry shot back with a shameless waggle of his eyebrows, making her burst into proper giggling now—the kind that shook her whole body and made her eyes crinkle at the corners.

"You're completely incorrigible!" she laughed, her palm connecting with his chest in a playful swat. "Absolutely hopeless!"

For a moment they just looked at each other, both grinning like idiots, and Harry thought this might actually work out fine. They were handling this situation the same way they'd handled every other impossible thing that had ever happened to them. But then, as quickly as it had come, the laughter faded away like smoke in the wind. The reality of their current situation seemed to crash back over Hermione like a massive cold wave, and her expression completely crumpled. Her brown eyes, which had been sparkling just seconds before, began to glisten with unshed tears.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered, her voice going all wobbly and small. "What have I done? What if Ron finds out and what if everyone finds out and what will people think and—"

Her words were coming faster and faster, her voice getting higher and more panicked. Harry recognized the signs immediately. Hermione was working herself into a proper state, the way she used to before important exams when she'd convinced herself she was going to fail everything despite being the brightest witch of their age and everyone bloody well knowing it.

"I'm so sorry, Harry, I'm so sorry," she babbled, tears starting to spill down her flushed cheeks in earnest now, leaving shiny tracks on her skin. "This is all my fault, I should never have touched that bloody book, I should have known better, I always know better but I just had to be curious didn't I, and now look what's happened! I've ruined everything, absolutely everything, and you'll never forgive me and everyone will think I'm some sort of slag and-"

The sight of tears in Hermione's eyes killed Harry's joking mood stone dead. Whatever situation they'd landed themselves in, Hermione was still his best mate. She'd stuck by him through everything: Time Travel, Death Eaters, Voldemort, the whole sodding war. He wasn't about to let her cry over something that wasn't even her fault.

Harry sat up, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tight against his chest. The movement drove his cock even deeper, so deep that the thick head was pressing firmly against her cervix.

"Ohhhhh," Hermione groaned involuntarily, the sound torn from her throat as her body was stretched and filled more completely than she'd ever experienced in her life. Her legs automatically wrapped around his waist, ankles locking behind his back as she clung to him desperately.

"Shit, sorry," Harry apologized immediately. "I didn't mean to go so deep… I was just trying to…are you hurt?"

"It's alright," Hermione managed breathlessly, her voice shaky. "It's... it's actually quite..."

"Good?" Harry asked hopefully, his large hands sneaking under her shirt to rub soothing circles on her bare back. He hoped he hadn't hurt her. Every witch he'd been with he'd had to go slow and work up to them taking all of him.

"Very good," Hermione admitted quietly, burying her face against the curve of his neck. "You didn't hurt me."

Harry held her close, one hand tangling in her wild mass of curls while the other traced gentle patterns along her spine. "And you didn't ruin anything," he promised, each word clear and definite and absolutely unshakeable. "Not our friendship, not anything at all. We've been through much worse than this, and we're still here, aren't we?"

"But Harry, those were different," Hermione mumbled against his neck, her voice muffled.

Harry pulled back and his hands came up to cup her face, thumbs brushing away the tears that were still clinging to her dark lashes. "No buts," he said, one thumb stroking gently across her damp cheekbone. "I don't blame you. Not even a little bit, not for any of it. You were doing research, that's what you do, that's who you are. It's one of the things I love most about you, if I'm being honest. You're curious about everything, you want to understand how the whole bloody world works. That's not something to be sorry for, that's something to be proud of."

"Really?" Hermione asked weakly, her voice small and uncertain.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching up to brush another tear from her cheek with his thumb. "None of that, yeah? No crying allowed."

"I'm not crying," Hermione said, though her voice was definitely still wobbly and more tears were threatening to spill over. "I'm just... this is such a disaster, Harry. What are we going to do?"

Harry pulled her in for another tight hug. "Everything's going to be absolutely fine," he said, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "We'll sort this out together, just like we always do."

Hermione was quiet for a moment, just breathing against him, and Harry could feel some of the tension leaving her body as she relaxed.

"What if we can't solve this one?" she finally whispered.

"Then we'll deal with whatever happens," Harry said firmly, tightening his arms around her. "Together. Like we always do. I'm not going anywhere, Hermione. You're stuck with me, spell or no spell."

Despite everything, Hermione let out a watery laugh at his terrible attempt at humor. "That's was absolutely dreadful, even for you."

"Yeah, well, I'm working with severely limited brain function here," Harry said with a self-deprecating chuckle. "All the blood's relocated down south, if you catch my meaning."

"Harry!" Hermione scolded, but she was giggling again despite her tears, and that was all that mattered to him.

They stayed like that for several long minutes, Harry holding her while she calmed down properly, his cock still throbbing inside her body. It was the strangest combination of deeply intimate and genuinely comforting he'd ever experienced.

Finally, when Hermione had stopped shaking and her breathing had evened out, Harry made his decision.

"Accio Wand!" Harry called out and the Elder wand came flying into the library, smacking neatly into his palm.

Hermione blinked up at him, still tucked against his shoulder. “Harry… what are you doing?”

“Making this a bit more comfortable,” he said, pointing the wand toward the hard stone beneath them. “Molliare!"

Golden light exploded from the Elder Wand like a miniature sun had been born right there in the dusty library, bathing the ancient stone walls in warm, pulsing magical energy. The harsh floor beneath them rippled and transformed, the chill stone turning springy and warm, creating a luxurious cushioned area that would've made the beds in the Gryffindor dormitory look like prison cots.

“There we go,” Harry said smugly, shifting a little so the cushion bounced beneath them. He flashed her one of his most roguish grins, the same cocky smirk that had gotten him more dates than he could count. “Can't have my best girl getting all bruised up on hard library floors, can I?"

Hermione lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him properly, one eyebrow arched. "Your best girl?" she repeated, her voice flat and unimpressed. "Does that line actually work on other witches?"

But Harry had spent too many years watching Hermione Granger to be fooled. He didn't miss the pleased little smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth and it was impossible to ignore the way her pussy had clenched tight around him the moment the words left his mouth.

Merlin, that nearly made him laugh out loud. Hermione could act as prim and proper as she liked, but her body was giving her away completely and she was practically milking him at being called his best girl.

"You know I don't kiss and tell, Hermione," he said, letting his voice drop to that low rumble that had birds dropping their knickers from here to Hogsmeade. "Unlike a certain Weasley we both know."

Her reaction was bloody priceless. Those big brown eyes went wide as dinner plates and her mouth fell open like she'd been smacked with a Stunning Hex. "What!" she gasped. "What has Ron told you?"

"What do you think Ron's told me?" he asked, though he already knew the answer would make her squirm. Ron had spilled everything after too many butterbeers at the Leaky Cauldron. How Hermione went absolutely mental when he called her his "good girl," how she'd practically attacked him when he'd told her she was "so clever" during sex, how she got wetter than the bloody Black Lake whenever he praised her for anything at all. Poor bastard had been so chuffed about figuring out what made his girlfriend tick, he'd bragged about it like he'd discovered a new Quidditch position.

"Harry, you tell me right now what—"

Before she could finish giving him orders like she was still Head Girl, Harry rolled them over. His large hands gripped her hips firmly as he settled himself properly between her spread thighs.

"Oh!" Hermione squeaked, her hands flying up to grip his shoulders as she found herself flat on her back, staring up at his face. "Harry, what are you—"

"Just getting comfortable," Harry said, admiring the view.

Hermione looked absolutely gorgeous spread out beneath him on the cushioned floor.

"Don't worry, I'll have us out of this mess in no time."