Tented

Harry was bored.

The hunt had gone stale like so many months old bread and he was left with the rotted taste in his mouth.

Lying on his cot in the tent, Harry's eyes lingered on Hermione's back. She was at the dining table, still pouring over books and papers.

The radio was quietly humming something he almost recognised and he decided then.

The stillness was stifling today - he needed this.

Harry focused his attention and slowly twisted the knob, before placing his wand back under the cot.

The tent was now filled with the sound of music and Harry smiled as it drove some of the darkness from his head.

He sat up, slipping his shoes off and loping quietly towards his friend.

Hermione looked up, eyebrows raised incredulously. Ron had been gone for over a month now. She still cried some nights.

But it was becoming less frequent, and the hurt he sometimes saw in her seemed less all-consuming

"Yes?" She asked delicately, trying to not let her irritation at being interrupted show.

Harry grabbed her hand, tugging Hermione to her feet.

She rolled her eyes inelegantly but followed nonetheless.

Harry could see her fighting the smile, but determined to make her laugh he knew he had to bring out the big guns.

He pulled her to the middle of the room and slowly began to sway, quickly devolving into moves a dying fish might give a go. Playing the fool as best he could, Hermione began to grin stupidly.

Harry's heart swelled as her first giggle burst out, changing the entire energy of the little bubble they lived in.

Hermione was so soft. Her skin glowed warm and sultry, and her fluffy curls made her look younger, innocent.

Someone like Hermione existing in a vacuum of war like this made Harry feel something like hope, and with her eyes sparkling with laughter and cheeks flushed rosy pink, he had to...

Harry suddenly embraced Hermione tightly, inhaling deeply with his face shoved into her hair. They stopped swaying and Harry relished the way she melted into him, soft curves pressed against his chest.

She fiercely embraced him back, no ounce of hesitation. He felt his eyes prick, and let out a shuddering breath.

She smelt...good. Not like perfumes or shampoos, but like...Hermione. Salty and earthy and musky in the best way he'd ever experienced.

Harry pulled back, his face still too close to Hermione's.

Her honey brown eyes were wide and doe-like as she stared at him, and Harry felt his stomach clench when her eyes flickered to his mouth, face reddening.

Heart racing, he kissed her.

Harry grabbed her face, and kissed Hermione - hard. She didn't respond at first, lips unresponsive below him.

But then he felt her hands grasp at his biceps, little nails digging in, and her mouth opened, a soft moan issuing quietly into his own.

He slipped his arms down from her face, lopping them around her waist and hauling Hermione roughly against his body.

He couldn't help the way he ground his cock into her soft stomach, but her encouraging moan just made him even harder.

Their tongues began to gently probe, tangling together in between rough pants and clashing teeth. Soon they were frantic, kissing with desperation Harry had never felt before.

Slowly he began to move to his bed, clumsily he was sure, but she didn't seem to mind.

Harry felt her pawing at him with frantic energy she followed, and he wondered how wet she would be, and then he wondered how she would taste.

The back of his thighs hitting his cot, he sat down suddenly. Standing above him with flushed cheeks, wild hair and red, kiss swollen lips, Harry swore he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Her chest was heaving deep lungfuls of air, and Harry saw the cloudy fog of lust was clearing.

Her hands began to fidget and she obviously didn't know what to do.

But he couldn't have that. He gently guided her jean-clad thighs apart, easing her legs open to settle down either side of his lap.

She was nervous, her gaze unable to lock with his.

"I've...never…" she began to say, biting her full bottom lip with uncertainty.

"Me either." Harry hushed, shrugging.

Smiling boyishly at her, he grinned suddenly, "The pair of us can probably work it out though. Brightest witch Hogwarts has ever seen, bravest man that ever lived?"

He winked cheekily and Hermione blushed deeply in response.

Taking a deep breath to still his nerves, and trying desperately not to think of anyone who lived outside of this tent, Harry smoothed her hair back, gently grasping the back of her neck.

He paused though, giving her a chance to pull away, end it.

Hermione's eyes were riveted to his and she wasn't breathing. Lust-blown pupils watched him closely and Harry would swear he felt his heart stutter with the intensity of her gaze.

Slowly, carefully, he drew her down to him, their lips meeting with feather-like softness, before quickly devolving into passionate abandon once more.

He couldn't believe he was kissing Hermione right now. His mind couldn't reconcile the fact that this ravishingly beautiful woman in his lap - who was making his mind and body feel things they'd never felt before - was the same swotty child that had told him how to fix his glasses with astute reprimand.

Shoving the thought from his mind, he threw himself instead into her warmth.

Her tongue caressed his, and he bit her full bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth to immediately soothe it, before his tongue stroked hers, her answering moan slipping down his throat, straight to his cock.

She slipped her hand under his shirt, palm laying heavy against his flat stomach, fingers toying with the sparse black hair that lead to his groin.

Hermione had begun to shift her hips, searching for pressure.

He grabbed her hips, directing her down onto his lap and thrusting upwards.

A startled "oh!" Shot from her mouth and she let her head fall back, eyes closed tightly.

A deep groan tumbled out of Harry's chest and he shuddered, desperately licking up and down her neck, nipping and biting and suckling.

"Fuck!" She hissed, her hands going to either side of his head and directing him down, towards her chest.

She continued to grind, quickly becoming more sure of herself, moaning eagerly the entire time.

Harry brought his hands up and began desperately trying to unbutton her top, only able to get a few buttons open before his impatience threatened to choke him. He pulled her modest white bra down, revealing perky breasts with hard rosy pink nipples.

She began to claw at his stomach, fingers tangling in his belt buckle unskillfully.

He began to suckle at her breasts and Hermione was now mewling and squirming on his lap. Harry could feel her damp heat on his dick as she desperately searched for deeper friction.

He knew he wouldn't last that long, positive he was already dripping with precum.

She gave up her quest and instead rested her hands on his shoulders, unconsciously using him to dry-fuck his lap, frantic and eager.

Her salty skin in his mouth made him twitch and Harry tried to stave off the rising tide in his gut. But then Hermione suckled on his ear lobe and groaned his name hotly into his ear.

"Harry...I'm, I'm...im...oh mygodddd-" she called out, head now thrown back, chest flushed and heaving.

Wet heat pressed hard against his lap, and Harry tumbled over the edge, hissing harshly as he came in his pants, belt buckle left half open and forgotten.

Struggling to catch his breath, Harry was so deliciously spent he didn't want to move ever again.

But hermione did. She squeaked, and cleared her throat.

Harry looked up, focusing his gaze as best he could through his smudged and askew glasses.

Slowly removing his arms from around her waist, his movements felt unnatural and clunky.

Her top was hanging haphazardly from her shoulders, breasts exposed to the cool air. Her hair was the wildest he'd ever seen it and her lips were puffy in the extreme. She was coated in a light sheen of sweat and was absolutely radiant.

Harry had never seen anything more lovely in his entire life. And he'd watched porn plenty of times. Okay...only a few times. Okay, only once.

She lifted an arm as he gawked and covered herself up with her top, shifting and removing herself from his lap. He immediately missed her warmth.

He glanced down at the wet patch on his lap and tried to muster some embarrassment, but just couldn't.

He only felt satisfaction.

"Uh...I'm...going to go." Hermione couldn't look at him, and her ruddy cheeks showed how uncomfortable she felt.

Harry, however, felt bold. For the first time in what felt like years, he had made a decision for no other reason than because he wanted to. And it had felt so so good.

He grabbed her wrist as she tried to run, and she stopped, staring down at his hand, eyes lowered dramatically.

"I don't regret this Hermione." He squeezed, trying to tell her that it was as alright as it had felt. "And I won't in the morning either. You can come back whenever you're ready."

She pulled her hand free and practically sprinted to her quarters, where she had a small shower and cot space.

She didn't emerge for the rest of evening.