Chapter 1: Friendly Competition

Hermione was making her way to the Library, carrying with her a stack of books she had finished studying earlier that day. Someone had called her name as she passed one of Hogwarts great hallways. She turned around and saw Harry running to her. He regained his breath and helped her with her load, taking some of the books.

Harry looked at her, "Hey, Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind helping me?" He hefted up his load, rebalancing the crooked tower. "Duelling practice, I mean."

She gave him a doubtful glance. "What about Ron? Why don't you ask him?"

"You know…." He rolled his eyes and smiled.

She shook her head, smiling. Arthur Weasley had forgiven Ron and Harry for their antics, many years before. But at the behest of his wife, Molly, Ron was to take responsibility for his broken wand, neglecting his chores and repairing the family car.

Harry continued to plead her, eventually ending with her giving in. "Okay, fine, I'll practice with you. But we have to return these first." gesturing to both of their piles. The two dropped off the books and headed to the Duelling Club Hall, which to their surprise was empty, but Harry shrugged it off and told her it was probably better for him that way.

It was a simple duel with a simple concept. All the practice was to disarm the opponent. At each end of the humongous table stood Hermione and Harry, they bowed to each other and commenced their own attacks.

They were almost equal in skill, Harry's power and speed matched with Hermione's broader knowledge of spells and curses. Each spell was deftly blocked or deflected and by the end of it, each combatant was nearly exhausted by the end of it.

Harry swiftly dodged her attack and with a few fleet swishes of his wand, he finished off his own. Hermione had let her guard down at that moment, fatigued by the duration of how long they had gone for. Levicorpus…Hermione recognized. She stared wide-eyed, as the glowing bird flew toward her – instinctively putting her hands up in futile defense. As the bird collided with her, she felt a powerful force sweep her off the ground and hung her upside-down. It was like how Grawp grabbed her in the forest when she first met him with his half-brother, Hagrid - she could not break free.

Moreover, as the spell held her aloft in mid-air. Her arms held tight by an invisible force, preventing her from even reaching her wand, she watched as Harry approached her. Suddenly realizing her position, it was quite revealing – but all she could do was watch him approach closer.

Unable to move, unable to call for help, and bound; she felt – helpless. Hermione saw Harry smile. Her skirt had partially fell upside-down halfway, obscuring her view as Harry approached. A cold kiss of air licked her stomach as her dress followed gravity's will and curled half-way revealing her naval and a view of smooth, tanned skin which made her blush graciously.

She stuttered nervously, "H-Harry, put me down this instant, please...?"

Hermione gasped, quivering as she felt Harry's hand suddenly. Like a feather, his finger slid down her leg to her thighs and slowly inched toward her womanhood and prying her legs centimetres apart. She bit her lip as she felt Harry's hand disappear from her legs. Harry crouched down and caressed her face, her hot breath on his hand. She did not know why but instinctively closed her eyes and nuzzled against his palm. For all her knowledge, she could not explain this…these feelings…these…this intrigue of why it was so dirty. He stood up again and Hermione took in a deep breath of air as Harry's hand palmed over her silk panties, rubbing it unhurriedly and even poking her nub a few times.

Harry took his time, watching as Hermione tried to muffle her moans, watching as the pink silk grew a slight wet spot of darkened hue. It spread and grew growing darker as it went, a string of sticky wet substance trailed as he touched it.

Hermione felt her body growing hotter and could feel her panties sticking to her skin as Harry slowly pulled it up.

A finger snaked over her skin and under her underwear making her quiver as her fluids slowly grow cold from the exposed air. His finger slid in easily, slowly and a wave of pure pleasure washed over Hermione. Her body bent like a bow while he continued to move his finger so slowly, in and out of the gap.

"No, Ha-Harry…this…this…i-is wro-gahh….ah…..haa", she tried to plead. Her face turned an even deeper crimson shade of red, from the blood rushing to her head and Harry's teasing of her body. She could resistance was failing her and her mind growing numb. While she knew it was wrong, her body yearned for more. In an almost desperate need, she gasped as her body kept trying to move up making Harry's finger go deeper and slowly sidling her toward the edge. Hermione could no longer even control her thoughts as she bit her lips nor her own body, a slave to its accord.

Harry's fingered slowed eased out of her folds, she slowly gasped and moaned as her hips rose up to keep it in.

I...feel…I feel…so unsatisfied? She shook her head at her dirty thoughts and breathed heavily. Her mouth hanging open, closed quickly as she felt her own saliva creep its way down her cheek from the side of her mouth, her juices snaking down her belly and chest, even in-between her buttocks. She felt so humiliated, so…exposed and so dirty but left unsatisfied.

I feel…so hot…ple…please…somebody…something…anything. If Malfoy were even here, she would beg him. However, he would probably have left her alone, a dirty, slutty Mudblood.

"You look cute Hermione." Harry smiled, breaking her away from her thoughts.

She tried to speak as Harry's finger leisurely caressed her folds. "Shu-shut up Har-Harr…hah…"

"You look a little flushed,' Harry said simply, a hint of innocence with a suggested prurience in his tone. Hermione blushed deeper and looked at him. 'Is there something wrong?'

She took in another deep gasp of air as he began to teasingly torture her once more.

With her still hanging inverted in the air, Harry helped himself, tongue running along her mound, licking up the juices that came from her wet region. One hand rubbed her thigh, fingering up and down her smooth, soft skin and as he did so, the other unbuttoning and pulling down his own trousers. Even though she was under the effects of the pleasurable euphoria, she was still slightly conscious of her situation. Unlike what most of the other girls taught in the Muggle world, although her instinct told her to bite it so it could bide some time for her to escape. Instead, she let it enter; slowly rolling over her lips and into her mouth. Curiosity came over her and she still red and submissive at that moment explored it with her tongue. Harry let out a deep groan.

Suddenly, Harry felt his hair stand up on end. Something did not feel right.

Quickly, he dashed to the Cloak of Invisibility he had left on the chair and draped it on Hermione's still floating body. Just as she was about to protest for the sudden movement, the door swung open and a man stood in its place. He was a thin man with sallow skin and a large, hooked nose. Shoulder-length, greasy black hair that framed his face in curtains and his cold, black eyes resembled dark tunnels; their colour looked similar to Hagrid's, but contained none of the half-giant's warmth. He had a thin-lipped, sneering mouth, and spoke in a soft voice. "I thought I heard something." He said, looking over Harry, waiting as if to condemn him for the slightest motion. "Care to explain what you are doing here, Potter...?"

"Duelling practise, sir."

The teacher eyed him suspiciously, "You better not let me catch you doing anything…forbidden, Potter." Snape narrowed his eyes, "Or Gryffindor will be suffering another deserved loss of a few points". And with the practised swoop of his cloak, he left the room – the door closing in his wake.

Harry let out a relieved sigh, his heart pumping in his ears.

Turning to the location where he had left Hermione, Harry reached out. Removing the Cloak; Harry crouched under Hermione and with a quick, swift motion with his wand muttered, "Liberacorpus", caught Hermione as the counter-curse worked itself.

He let her down. Hermione sat on the wooden floor, resting her head on her hands as her light-headedness prevented her from walking or getting up properly. Her chest rose and fell as her body tried to regain and circulate oxygen recovering from its previous position; her brown hair was a mess, covering her face like a bridal veil. Her wet panties held between her closed legs, loosely caught between the thighs.

Harry crouched down to her level, brushing the wild, curly bangs from her face and rested his hand on her flushed, red cheek. He peeked under the shroud searching for her hazel eyes to meet his green ones. Then he raised her chin, from down and up to him, to find a face that smiled back at him.

Their eyes meeting briefly before her lips found their way onto his own.