Vox Corpis [Harmione]

Chapter 43

She had nowhere to go. His body pressed into hers, pinned her solidly to the wall behind her as his hands circled her hips, slid between her and the stone at her back, drawing her insatiably closer to the madness that she'd awakened. She bent one knee to hook her leg around his, her calf and inner leg raking up toward his hip. He let his hand follow the angle of her thigh. He suckled at her neck, the warm haven beneath her hair that called so to him, like siren's song made flesh. Her skin was hot and sweet on his lips. Her sigh in his ear was even sweeter. He pushed against her, wild with the way it made their bodies crush together. Her hands were sliding between them, tugging at his shirt. Then his shirt was gone, and her fingers were leaving white impressions over his back and shoulders. She clung to him hungrily. She moaned when his hands moved. And then her shirt was gone, and it was skin touching skin, heat on heat. He dipped to taste her chest, inebriate himself on her body, and her deft fingers went to his belt.

A soft click tore Harry from the land of dreams and he lay quietly in bed, still in a state from the images that had been dancing in his mind's eye. He listened for what had torn him from his slumber and it was more a sense of another person in the room than any true noise.

He roused the sleeping jaguar just enough to know by smell alone that his visitor was Hermione. Perhaps being jarred from sleep wasn't so terrible after all.

It was edging toward noon judging by how rested he felt. He'd slept in. His bed at the Granger house was sinfully comfortable, so much better than the hand-me-down mattresses he'd always inherited from Dudley with a huge dip in the middle where most of the massive boy's weight had been borne and spotted with multiple food stains and their accompanying funny smells. It was better than the standard beds of Hogwarts that were not supposed to encourage sleeping in, lest a student miss their morning classes.

Harry knew Hermione was padding toward his bed, but he kept his eyes closed and pretended he'd not realized she was there. He was curious to learn what exactly she'd do. The mattress dipped and jostled as she climbed up on it. Harry was having to fight the impulse to smile. Then it was her voice, directly above him.

"I know you're awake," she said at last.

Harry gave in, smiled, and opened his eyes. She was on her hands and knees over him, one hand on either side of him so she was hovering right over him, near enough that he could make out her features without his glasses. She was in her pajamas still as well. Her hair was loose and falling over her shoulders, tickling his cheeks and making him chuckle.

Hermione grinned back at him. "Morning."

Harry batted her hair away, only to have it brush against his nose. "What time is it?"

"About ten-thirty. Mum and Dad are gone."

The devil on Harry's shoulder thought that that was a very important detail… and an exciting one. Harry tried his best to push that thought away. "Morning… you know, I was going to have a lie in. I'd been looking forward to it all week." His intent was playful, even if he pretended to protest her waking him.

Hermione beamed, fully aware that Harry was funning with her. "Thought you might. Got room for one more?"

His eyebrows rose. Then he lifted up one end of the covers in invitation.

Hermione quickly wriggled in beside him and snuggled down at his side. Harry tucked the covers snug around them both and had to bite the inside of his cheek when Hermione slid her arm over his torso, turned on her side to partially drape over him, and moved one of her legs to tangle with his… and in the process came in contact with the evidence of his rather vivid dream. But he didn't have to be embarrassed about that with Hermione, she'd proven remarkably unbothered by Harry's 'physiological responses'. True to form, she didn't pull away or make a disgusted noise… instead he felt her smile into his chest where her face was pressed against him.