Magical Mishap Ch.3

Meanwhile, back in the library of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Harry found himself in what was quite possibly the most awkward situation of his seventeen years of life. It was even worse than the time he'd accidentally grown his hair back overnight before a Dursley dinner party, or when he'd spoken Parseltongue in front of the entire school during second year.

Harry had always prided himself on being quick. Quick with his wand, quick with a comeback when Malfoy started his usual rubbish, quick enough to catch a Snitch before anyone else could blink. But Hermione's pussy kept doing something that made his vision go all fuzzy around the edges. Little squeezes that sent lightning straight up his spine and made his toes curl against the dusty floorboards. She was trying to act casual about the whole mental situation, but Harry could feel exactly how not-casual she was. Every breath she took, every tiny shift of her weight sent waves of pleasure through his cock that threatened to turn his brain to complete mush.

It was a very pressing reminder of the fact that, while they were taking this in stride, Harry Potter—the Boy Who Lived, savior of the wizarding world, and generally decent bloke—was still wand deep inside his best friend.

The girl in question seemed acutely aware of their predicament too. Harry could see it in the way her brown eyes kept darting down to where their bodies were joined

"Right, well this has been brilliant and all," she said, her breath coming in short puffs that made her chest rise and fall. She cleared her throat delicately, as if proper pronunciation might somehow make their situation less sexual. "But I suppose we should probably stop... copulating and get on with our days?"

Her words trailed off at the end, turning what should have been a decisive statement into something that sounded almost like a question. It was so unlike the confident witch who'd helped him defeat Voldemort.

Harry almost snorted. Copulating. Trust Hermione to use the clinical term while he was still inside her. Even stuck like this, she couldn't help being a swot about everything.

"Couldn't agree more," Harry said, though he found himself oddly reluctant to move. Every instinct he had was screaming at him not to move, not to break this perfect connection. The sensation of being completely sheathed inside Hermione Granger was doing things to his brain that definitely weren't conducive to rational thought.

Hermione planted her palms flat against his chest, fingers splayed wide. Her hands were surprisingly warm against his bare skin, and Harry could feel the slight tremor running through them as she braced herself.

That's when her eyes went wide with surprise.

"Oh!" she gasped, her voice carrying a note of wonder that made Harry's cock jump. Her palms pressing more firmly against his chest as if she couldn't quite believe what she was feeling. "When did you get so... muscular?"

Her fingertips traced the defined ridges of his abs almost unconsciously, exploring the hard planes of his torso mapping out muscles that definitely hadn't been there during their Hogwarts years. The boy who'd been all sharp angles and knobby knees at school had filled out considerably, and Hermione seemed properly gobsmacked by the transformation.

"I've been like this for a while now," Harry said, trying to sound casual despite the way her innocent exploration was making his skin burn. "Auror training, innit. Lot of physical conditioning and that."

"Right, well," Hermione said, her cheeks going an even deeper shade of pink as she seemed to realize what she was doing with her hands. "I suppose I wasn't exactly in the habit of seeing you with your shirt off, was I?"

She took a shaky breath, then placed her palms flat against his well-muscled chest and started to push herself up on her knees, attempting to lift herself off him.

Inch by torturous inch, her slick pussy slid up his thick cock, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from making some truly embarrassing noises.

Bloody hell. If this was what sex was supposed to feel like, he had definitely been doing something wrong with the other birds he'd shagged.

A truly obscene wet sound echoed through the dusty library like a gunshot. Hermione's face went bright scarlet, but she kept pushing upward, her bottom lip caught between her teeth in concentration.

Then something went wrong.

"Oh!" Hermione squeaked, the sound high and breathless.

Her whole body suddenly went rigid, like she'd been hit with a Full Body-Bind Curse. Her brown eyes went wide with shock and confusion, and she let out a sharp little gasp that was half pain, half something else entirely.

Without warning, she slid back down with a soft whimper. "Fuck," she groaned, the word sounding strange coming from Hermione's usually proper mouth. She slid back down with a soft, frustrated whimper

The feeling of her engulfing him again nearly made his eyes roll back in his head. Merlin, it was like being wrapped in liquid fire. Hot and wet and so bloody tight that Harry wondered if he might actually die from this. What a way to go, though. The headlines would be mental: "Boy Who Lived Dies Shagging Best Mate in Dusty Library." Rita Skeeter would have a field day.

"Sorry," Hermione whispered. "I don't know what... let me try again."

She braced herself more firmly against his chest. Her fingernails bit into his skin as she prepared for another attempt. Harry could see the determination in her flushed face as she pushed up, the way her legs shook with the effort. Tiny beads of sweat were forming along her hairline, and her face was flushed that particular shade of pink that usually meant she was getting properly wound up about something.

This time she made it a bit further before stopping, her whole body going rigid.

"Hermione—"

"Don't," she said quickly. "Please don't say anything right now, Harry. I can figure this out."

But even as she spoke, she was sliding back down with a frustrated little sound that made Harry swell inside her. He could feel her body's immediate response as her pussy clenched around him like it was trying to strangle his prick.

"I don't understand," Hermione whispered. She sounded genuinely lost. "This should be simple. Basic anatomy, really."

She started to move again then, but this time her movements were different. Less forceful, more exploratory. She twisted and turned slowly, still impaled on his considerable length, testing different angles like she was trying to solve some intimate puzzle.

The sensations were driving Harry absolutely mental. Every shift and adjustment sent waves of pleasure through his entire body, and he had to dig his fingers into his thighs to keep from grabbing her hips and making everything infinitely worse.

"That's... oh," Hermione breathed, her movements becoming more deliberate as she found an angle that seemed to work better. "I think maybe if I..."

But her experimental gyrations were having entirely the wrong effect on Harry's self-control. The way she was moving, the little sounds she was making, the sight of her flushed face as she worked through the problem. It was all combining to create a perfect storm of arousal that threatened to overwhelm him completely.

"Hermione," he said, his voice coming out as more of a growl. His hands moved to her hips before he could stop himself, gripping the soft curves there to steady her. "You need to stop doing that. Right now."

"Why?" she asked, genuine confusion in her voice. "I really think I'm starting to understand the mechanics—"

"Because," Harry said through gritted teeth, "if you keep moving like that, I'm going to—"

But she wasn't listening. With that same stubborn determination that had gotten them through seven years of impossible situations, Hermione lifted herself again, higher than she'd managed before.

"Listen to me," Harry was fighting to keep his voice steady while his best mate unknowingly tried to kill him with pleasure. "Every time you move like that, you're absolutely killing me."

"I know what I'm doing!" she snapped, though the pink in her cheeks suggested otherwise. She was biting her lower lip the way she always did when she was working through a particularly tricky bit of magic, looking utterly adorable despite their rather scandalous circumstances.

Harry almost laughed despite their situation. Hermione Granger, who knew everything about everything, finally stumped by something. And it was his cock doing the stumping.

She lifted herself again, higher this time, and Harry made the mistake of looking down. He knew she wasn't trying to, but it certainly felt like Hermione was doing her best to get him off.

Then something went wrong. Hermione's face contorted in pain as she jerked upward sharply. Harry felt a vice-like pressure around his dick that was far too tight to be pleasurable.

"Fuck! Ow, ow, ow!" Hermione cried out.

Just when Harry was about to tell her to stop before she did permanent damage to either of them, Hermione fell forward with a soft "Oof!" Her tits squished against his chest, and his cock was stuffed back into her with a wet shlurp!

They were both breathing hard now, staring at each other in shock.

"What the hell were you trying to do?" Harry panted, though he was secretly enjoying the view. Hermione's brown eyes had gone wide and dark and looked thoroughly shagged. The thought that he'd done that to her filled Harry's chest with pure male satisfaction.

"We're stuck," she mumbled, her voice small and disbelieving, like she couldn't quite wrap her brilliant mind around what was happening.

Harry gave her his best "you're having a laugh" look. "That's complete rubbish," he said flatly, though even as the words left his mouth he could feel the truth of it. His cock was definitely not going anywhere, no matter how much his rational mind insisted this was impossible. "There's no bloody way that's possible. What are we, dogs?"

"Well, you're welcome to explain that to your enormous cock," Hermione sat up to glare at him, "because it seems to think otherwise."

Harry's grin turned decidedly cocky. He couldn't help it. Even in this completely mental situation, hearing Hermione Granger—brightest witch of their age, former prefect, swot extraordinaire—talking about his "enormous cock" was doing brilliant things to his ego that probably weren't healthy.

"I mean," he said, unable to keep the smugness out of his voice as his eyes traveled over her flushed face and mussed hair, "I suppose I could understand if you weren't properly... er... prepared for it." He gestured vaguely between them. "But I can definitely tell that you're absolutely…"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Harry Potter," Hermione warned, though her cheeks had gone an even deeper shade of red. "And yes, I'm perfectly aware of my current state, thank you very much."

Current state was putting it bloody mildly. She was absolutely drenched, so wet that Harry could feel it coating his balls where they pressed against her arse. It was probably the most erotic thing that had ever happened to him, and considering his fairly eventful seventeen years, that was saying something.

"Right, no judgment here," Harry said quickly, though his wicked grin said otherwise. He was enjoying this far more than he probably should have been. "We're both responsible for this mess, aren't we?"

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared down at him with the sort of expression she usually reserved for Crabbe and Goyle when they'd done something particularly thick. It should have been intimidating. Instead, with her hair a complete mess and his cock buried inside her, it just made Harry want to kiss her senseless and see what other sounds he could get her to make.

"I'm just trying to work out how this is even possible," he continued, actually enjoying himself now despite their predicament. This was absolutely barking mad, but having Hermione stuck on his dick wasn't exactly the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Far from it, actually. "It shouldn't be physically possible. Your body is literally designed for this sort of thing. Basic biology, innit?"

"You think I don't know that?" Hermione snapped, brown eyes flashing with frustration and embarrassment. "But unless you've got a better explanation for why your stupid dick won't come out of me—"

"Hey!" Harry protested, offended on behalf of his manhood. "My dick isn't stupid! My dick is bloody brilliant, actually. Revolutionary, even. Ask anyone. You're the one who's soaking wet

"I didn't ask to be!"

They glared at each other, both flushed and breathing hard.

"Right," Harry said finally, deciding to take charge of the situation. "Let me try."

He gripped her hips more firmly, his hands spanning her waist easily. Her skin was warm and slightly damp with sweat, and he could feel the way her muscles tensed under his palms as lifted her. Hermione gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders for support.

For a moment, it seemed to work. Harry could feel her pussy beginning to release him, could see the strain on her flushed face as whatever was binding them started to give way.

Then that same crushing pressure clamped down on his cock like a bloody bear trap.

"Ow! Fuck! Stop!" Hermione cried, her nails digging into his shoulders so hard Harry was sure she'd drawn blood.

He immediately let her drop back down, and they both groaned as his cock seated itself fully inside her again.

"I told you," Hermione said, her lips were parted as she breathed heavily.

"How?" Harry wondered aloud, staring up at her in genuine confusion. "This is not some complicated bit of magical engineering. Your pussy is literally designed for my cock to go in and out."

It was basic biology, for fuck's sake. People had been shagging for thousands of years without getting permanently stuck together.

"Yes, thank you for that brilliant observation, Professor Potter," Hermione said tartly, using that particular tone of voice that meant she thought he was being spectacularly thick. "It's ever so helpful. By all means, please continue to mansplain my own vagina to me."

"Well, if you're so clever about it, why is my cock still stuck in there?"

"I don't know!"

"Has this sort of thing happened to you before?"

"I think I'd bloody well remember if it had," Hermione snapped, but her voice came out breathless and shaky. She was squirming on top of him, probably trying to get comfortable, but every little movement sent jolts of pleasure straight through Harry's cock. "I'm not exactly in the habit of having things get lodged up there!"

Something about the way she said it made Harry pause. He'd sort of assumed that she and Ron had been at it like rabbits for the past couple of years. They certainly rowed like an old married couple.

"Hang on," he said slowly, watching the way she bit her swollen lower lip. "Hermione, are you... are you a virgin?"

"Of course not!" Hermione said immediately. Her whole body tensed on top of him, pussy clenching around his shaft so tight he had to grit his teeth. "Ron and I have been... that is, we were..." She trailed off, looking absolutely miserable.

Relief flooded through Harry so intensely it left him dizzy. At least he hadn't taken that from her as well, hadn't stolen something that couldn't be replaced.

"Right, sorry," Harry said, though he couldn't quite keep his eyes from wandering down to where they were connected. "And this has really never happened before?"

Hermione's face went bright red and she suddenly found the dusty ceiling absolutely fascinating. "Well, no, but... I mean... Harry, you're rather..." She cleared her throat and kept avoiding his eyes, looking thoroughly flustered. "You're much, much bigger than anyone I've been with before."

"Oh," was all Harry managed to say.

He'd known that, of course. Having shared a dormitory with Ron for seven years, Harry was already well aware that he'd been blessed in certain departments. Ron had certainly made enough bitter comments about it during their years at Hogwarts that it wasn't exactly news.

"Yes, well, there you have it," Hermione said briskly, clearly trying to regain her composure despite the fact that she was still impaled on his cock. "Mystery solved. Your enormous prick has apparently gotten itself stuck somewhere it doesn't fit properly."

Harry couldn't help it. There was something about hearing that from Hermione, while she was straddling him, her thighs spread wide around his hips and knowing his thick cock was exploring untouched depths that sent a surge of primitive male satisfaction through him

"Don't you dare look smug about it, Harry Potter," Hermione warned, though there was no real heat in her voice. She could obviously see the pleased, cocky expression spreading across his face.

"I'm not being smug," Harry protested, though he definitely was feeling rather chuffed with himself. The knowledge that he was bigger than anyone Hermione had ever taken was doing absolutely brilliant things to his ego. "I'm just trying to work out why we're stuck like this. You might need to see a Healer or something."

It wasn't normal, even accounting for size differences. Something else was going on here.

"Well, your freakishly large anatomy certainly isn't helping matters," Hermione muttered.

Harry tried to look offended, but it was rather hard to manage when he was literally inside his best friend while she told him his cock was the biggest she'd ever had.

"My anatomy is perfectly normal, thank you very much."

"If by normal you mean abnormally huge, then yes."

"I've never had complaints before."

Hermione rolled her eyes so hard Harry was surprised they didn't fall out of her head. "Oh please, don't tell me you're going to start bragging about your conquests now."

"They weren't conquests. They were willing participants in the Harry Potter experience. Completely different thing."

"You absolute tosser," Hermione said, but there was a sparkle of something playful in her ryrd despite their predicament. "Who knew defeating You-Know-Who would turn my best friend into such a complete slag."

"Hey now," Harry said, putting on his most wounded expression. "I prefer 'sexually experienced wizard.' Has a much better ring to it, don't you think? More sophisticated."

"Maybe that's the issue," Hermione said slowly. "Our bodies are just so..."

"Compatible?" Harry suggested, nodding. It certainly felt like that to him. They fit together perfectly.

"I was going to say incompatible, Harry!"

"Incompatible?" Harry repeated, raising an eyebrow. Because from where he was lying, they felt pretty bloody compatible. Everything about this felt right in a way that should have been disturbing but somehow wasn't.

He could see in her eyes that Hermione knew it wasn't true. Whatever was happening between them, incompatibility wasn't the problem. If anything, it was quite the opposite.

When she finally stopped trying to pry herself off him, Hermione huffed and tugged at the ridiculous scrap of fabric masquerading as a skirt. It did fuck-all to cover her and gave him a teasing glimpses of pink flesh stretched tight around his thick shaft. The sight made his cock twitch inside her, which made her breath catch, which made him twitch again.

Merlin, he was going cum if he wasn't careful.

That's when Harry noticed it.

Wedged between their bodies was one of the massive tomes she'd been carrying. The thick, leather-bound volume hard started glowing with a faint golden light. The ornate cover read "Ancient Bonds of Pure-Blood Matrimony: Ensuring Magical Heirs Through Sacred Union" in flowing script that seemed to shimmer.

"Hermione," Harry asked. "What is that book?"