Seemingly Simple

Seemingly Simple

Ch.1

Prelude to Disaster

A/N: I know, I know, I am the most sporadic author on to ever exist. But a wise English teacher of mine said that our best writing comes from the heart, and I cannot force myself otherwise. To do so would be settling for less than my best. This is a new MMHG fic of mine, and I hope that everyone likes it! Do remember to leave feedback, questions, and comments. I love to hear from all of you, and it makes me smile when I hear that I have given someone else something they could enjoy!

The soft drops of rain cling to the windows of my small flat as I pour myself a cup of hot tea. It is a dreary, rotten day that promises to see not a drop of sunshine. These days I usually coup up near the fire, quill in hand, and continue on with my new book on Transfiguration.

This day is no different, and as I set my tea on a nearby table I settle into my couch, face the fire, and begin where I last left off.

The next and possibly most advanced form of Transfiguration is the art of the Animangus. Many witches and wizards

I stop right as I introduce the quill to the parchment. My heart skips a beat for the second time this week, and for the same reason. It is unreal, that such a moment should bring me into such a distraught state, but despite my best efforts against it, I find myself panicked. It is now Saturday evening, and Minerva McGonagall has been haunting my thoughts since Monday afternoon.

'I shall never get farther in this book,' I think to myself as I set my work aside and walk past the kitchen to make my way to the bathroom. But as I pass the refrigerator, something outside the window above my sink catches the corner of my eye. There is a cat outside, frantically pawing at the window in hopes to escape from the rain. I have never seen this cat around here, but I decide a wet cat is a bad cat. I go to the window and raise the pane. The cat bolts inside and rushes toward the fire. I look on, one eyebrow raised skeptically to my hair line.

'There is something terribly familiar about you.' I shake off the déjà vu and instead continue on my way to my bathroom. I need a hot bath. The chill of the rain outside has left an icy thought throughout my body. I step into the room and draw the water from the tap. Within minutes the room is steamy and clouded. 'Good, maybe I can lose my thoughts in here for a while,' I think as I let a little Lavender scent into the water. As I begin to remove my clothing, the smell really hits me and immediately I freeze.

Her.

'Hermione Jane, you will stop this instant! Get these ludicrous ideas out of your head! It will never come to anything.' So much for losing my thoughts.

I somehow manage to get out of the rest of my clothes without any further flashbacks. I step into the tub and flinch. My feet are cold and bare, and the water is particularly hot. But I manage to get used to it and I slowly start to sink into the water. As I sink below the surface, my troubles of this last week begin to melt away. I become so relaxed and sedated by the heat and steam that it is almost arousing. I know I really shouldn't, but I haven't had company of any sort in over four years.

Releasing myself of any inhibitions, my hands slowly start to roam over my body until they find my full breasts.

I close my eyes to revel in the simple pleasure, but they open wide when her hands flash across my mind. Calming myself back out of a semi-hysteric state, I decide that I can no longer bring her out of my system. Giving into every savage feeling in my body, my hands again start to roam, completely intoxicated by the fact that they are not empowered by me, but fueled by the thought of that goddess with raven hair.

Their pace begins to quicken when I find my core holds more need then I could imagine. My hand finds my aching centre as the other wantonly grasps a taught nipple. Her face, her hands, her mouth, all consume me, and I welcome them as a tremendous wave comes over me. My whole body wracks with pleasure as her name rolls off my lips.

When it all becomes too much, I slowly come down from my sinful high and reality starts to cloud me. As I soak for a few moments, regaining a steady breath and wiping the sweat and steam from my brow, a dark shape startles me so much that I cannot scream. There is the cat, perched upon the side of the tub, studying my face eerily. 'No, Hermione, cats don't study people from post-orgasmic states! How silly!' I try to talk myself down, but the look in the cats' eyes tells me a different story. As it realizes that I am staring back, it bolts from its curious state and makes for somewhere else.

It is at that moment that I, Hermione Jane Granger, realize that I must arrange a visit.