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Subject: {ASSM} VGSS' Harry Potter and the Trial of Fire Chp2 (Hermione, solo)
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Date: Sun, 24 Jul 2005 05:10:04 -0400
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Movie Guy's Sex Stories
Volume 10:     Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - The Trial of Fire
Chapter 2:     "The Morning Task"
Rating:           NC-17
Pairings:        Hermione-solo
Summary:    Thoughts of the future regarding the fourth years' new
area of study have affected Hermione more than she expected - or
wants. The composed witch took it for granted that she'd have to
indulge a little more in self-pleasure with such naughty things soon
becoming a part of everyday life, but she never expected them to affect
her so much!


       Day dawned lazy and peaceful for Hermione, who had proven so
exhausted from last evening's blissful release that she managed to
continue dozing right through her roommates' boisterous entrance.
Presently, however, both Parvati and Lavender were soundly unconscious
- no doubt sleeping off the sugar rush evident by the remaining cakes
and pastries on their dressers. They probably hadn't been fresh since
yesterday morning, and would make a pretty awful meal about now. With
her roommates in such a deep slumber, they were likely to snooze right
past breakfast. Hermione made a quick mental note to bring them up some
leftovers. If anything else, she could always do with a few more
cookies and donuts squirreled away on top of her dresser, especially on
the weekend. Students weren't exactly starved as far as Hogwarts meals
went, but it was nice to have something on hand for emergencies, even
junk food. She didn't like to resort to having junk food too often,
but it did have its moments.

       "And you two are always worrying about your figures..."
Hermione whispered deviously before rolling back into bed again, gazing
calmly at the ceiling as she brought her hands to her belly. Of course,
she knew it was kind of cheating to check up on her curves in this
ideal position, but it wasn't like that made that much of a
difference, anyway. Being healthy of mind happened to go hand-in-hand
with health of body in her case, and the results were predictably
satisfactory.

    As the last remnants of slumber's fog dripped away from her
consciousness, Hermione dragged herself up into a sitting position,
glancing over towards her friends. She had to let out an amused smile
at the sight - which could only pass as innocent in an all-female
dormitory. Once her own body had begun to fill out, a kind of constant
mental guard had suddenly developed to protect her from boys trying to
catch glimpses of places they shouldn't. What would they think now,
if they saw their classmates safe in their own room and letting down
that precious layer of modesty?

    Lavender was the less flagrant of the two, but not by much. She had
thrown the covers off sometime during the night and now lay on her back
with an arm draped across her face to dull the sun's slow creep into
the room. She had on one of those loose, revealing tee shirts most
teenage girls owned, but wouldn't dare be seen wearing even in the
common room due to the how easy the low cut made accidentally flashing
your breasts. It was mostly for hanging around in here on a lazy
afternoon, or sometimes for a quick jaunt to the showers downstairs.
Either way, Lavender wasn't very much prepared for either at the
moment since Hermione saw she was wearing only panties to go with it.
Like all her friend's underwear, they were the color of lilacs - no
small coincidence given the young woman's name.

    Parvati, on the other hand, had apparently decided that covering up
at night wasn't so much of a requirement any longer. Misses Brown and
Granger privately surmised that it most likely had something to do with
the spurt of development that both Patil sisters had enjoyed over the
summer. As Parvati was on her stomach with the covers slipping down her
bare back, only the sides of her impressive breasts could be seen,
though it would still have been more than enough to vulcanize the
attention of any guy who managed to find their way up here.

       Since the girls all knew this was next to impossible thanks to
the enchantments Hogwarts' founders had set down for students of the
fairer sex, this scene was actually not all that uncommon for their
half of Gryffindor Tower. Hermione wondered with a brief tingle of
excitement if the boys were just as laid-back on their own side, then
immediately gave herself a mental slap. The first images to pop in her
mind had been innocent enough - Ron and Harry in the room she'd
been invited up to a handful of times since starting school -- but her
naughty side had quickly substituted them in a similar situation as
Parvati and Lavender... she hadn't been able to help it. Sure, they
probably similar thoughts about her on a regular basis, but she was a
girl, and they were supposed to be more mature.

    Stirring in her warm cocoon under the covers, the studious witch
stretched from her toes to fingertips, greeting sunrise with a slightly
embarrassing discovery. Her underwear was inexplicably damp, more so
than could be explained by the humid weather affecting the generous
fluff of pubic hair which could probably use a trim. And she would
definitely have remembered if it were a racy dream, so that couldn't
be it...

       "Oh..." Hermione whispered aloud, understanding finally
dawning on her. "Last night..."

    "Jelly beans..." the fourth-year swore mildly, dipping a hand
between her legs to examine the spot before confirming it was indeed
that special kind of wetness. Heat flushed that part of her body,
despite her innocuous intentions, and before Hermione could wrench her
arm away a steady throbbing was issuing from her feminine cleft.

       "Down girl..." she muttered hastily, amazed at how much stronger
and more frequent the impulses came ... ever since that first
eye-opening experience only a few weeks ago. She and the younger
Weasleys had been driving gnomes out of Molly's garden again
(apparently the only chore required to secure room and board at the
Burrow) when the presence of all those young, sweaty men finally made
something click on inside her. The dam had finally burst for Hermione.
So, after patiently waiting for Ginny to head into the bathroom to get
herself ready for bed, she finally decided to give in to her hormonal
urges and let her body take over. Her hands knew exactly what to do,
and after only a few short minutes, she at last understood what all the
fuss regarding orgasm was about.

        It was really quite addicting, but Hermione tried not to overdo
it. Still, she supposed that once more this week wouldn't hurt,
especially given the way sexual tension had risen across the board for
everyone in their year. She couldn't be the only one suddenly looking
for more time to herself.

       There was no question that taking charge of things again would
be necessary, although it would've been far too risky to simply
diddle herself under the covers again now others were around to notice.
That reeked of a flamboyant disregard for restraint that just wasn't in
Hermione's nature. Besides, fear of being discovered would surely
keep her from finishing, and that would be worse than doing nothing at
all. She needed solitude to fully satisfy these hormonal urges. Like an
unused classroom, or the library's Restricted Section, or maybe just...

       "A shower..." she said quietly as the excellent idea popped into
her head, licking her lips in the delicious anticipation that lovely
word implied. "A nice, hot, loooong shower..." she repeated
silently, her skin literally quivering with the promise of what it
meant she would be doing in the very near future. Allowing herself a
moment's indiscretion, the aroused witch rubbed her thighs together,
relishing the warm, moist friction between her legs. "Yes... that
will do quite nicely..."

    Resisting the overwhelming urge to take a more 'hands-on'
approach, Hermione enjoyed the building flame below her waist for only
a short while, knowing she needed just enough incentive to last until
she could make it to the basement. After grudgingly ceasing the
delightful scissoring of her lower limbs, she checked one last time to
make sure her roommates were still fully asleep, then slipped sideways
out of bed to keep the tell-tale scent of her nocturnal arousal hidden
underneath the covers. Though she didn't like to think about it, the
house elves' precise schedule meant her sheets would be off the bed
and on their way down to the laundry before long - likely as soon as
the last of them headed down for breakfast.

       The castle's surprisingly-cold stone licked at Hermione's
adorably bare feet as soon as she stood up, causing the randy youth to
skitter giddily across the floor to her dresser a few feet away.
Turning her back to the other beds, she quickly pulled her shirt off to
proudly show her breasts off to the indifferent stone wall before
peeling off her soaked panties as well. The damp garment slid sensually
down her legs, crumpling in a wet pile on the floor while the unclothed
wizardress halted for a moment - breathtakingly nude but with no one
to appreciate it. Warmth flowed in Hermione's moist crotch as a
delightful breeze tickled her damp muff and bare backside, making her
realize with a wicked thrill that she was enjoying exposing herself
like this, even if it was only to her sleeping roommates.
McGonagall's class already seemed to be having a subtle impact on
her...

    Moving on, she withdrew a plain-looking nightgown from the drawers
and slipped it on, hoping she didn't run into anyone on her way down to
the showers. It was quite sheer -- more than enough for a boy to make
out the dark triangle between her legs or the twin projections further
up if they looked hard enough, but she didn't want to use up another
set of undergarments until she'd washed up. Even with Hogwarts'
weekly wash service, you still ran out of clean underthings sometimes.
Besides, no one would be able to see her if she simply went directly
downstairs without stopping off at the common room. After snatching up
a fresh set of clothes under one arm and her bath bag in the other,
Hermione departed without another sound.

    Gryffindor House was quiet as ever for a Saturday morning, the
bushy-haired witch catching only a few whispers further up the stairs
from the upperclassmen as she descended the steps. As usual for this
early on a weekend, there were seemingly no younger students up yet,
and the only sound she could detect on the first floor was the slight
crackle of a heat-less show-fire. Since this was one of the last warm
spells for the year, the house elves had opened all the windows to
ventilate the spire one final time before winter set in. The crisp fall
air felt absolutely wonderful and smelled even better, making Hermione
glad for about the millionth time that she hadn't been relegated to
Slytherin's lot in the dungeons three years ago...

    The excited mage's spirits were unfortunately dashed as soon as
she made her way down to the facilities at the tower's base. The echo
of running water indicated that at least one other girl had gotten the
same idea, or was simply choosing a terribly inconvenient time to
bathe. Sighing morosely as her hopes of a good, long frig under the hot
water flickered away, Hermione forced herself to go on anyway and head
into the shower area. It would've looked plain silly if someone saw
her turn around...

    "What's wrong?" the other girl would amusedly ask. "Changed
your mind?"
    "No..." Hermione might reply. "I just wanted to
masturbate."
    "Ah, I see..." they might say. "Well, better luck next
time!"

    Hah. If only people could be that mature about it.

       Hermione grumpily plodded on, passing a row of toilets as she
following the L-shaped corridor to the stalls at its far end. A few
times a year, she always had to pause to fully take in just how large
this place really was. It was clearly augmented by magic, much like
their new classroom and the muggle car Ron and Harry had arrived at
school in their second year.

        There were nearly enough showers available for every female in
Gryffindor to bathe at the same time, lined along the walls of the room
in a horseshoe pattern. None of the individual stalls had doors, but
they extended far enough in to provide some measure of privacy as long
as someone didn't pick a spot next to you and peek on the way in.
Hermione could not recall ever having much more than four or five to
accompany her at any one time, though, and wondered briefly if the
boys' side of the Tower was as spacious. Probably not, given the biased
treatment they got regarding the girls' trick staircase.

    As she had feared, one of the showers on the right side was indeed
occupied. Although the unknown girl was hidden behind a tiled
partition, the articles scattered outside suggested they belonged to
Vicky Frobisher. Mumbling obscenities un-ladylike under her breath in a
way spookily reminiscent of Ron, Hermione hung her clothes up out of
the way and hastily disrobed, darting into her preferred stall on the
left side before her fellow housemate finished up. It was more out of a
desire to avoid small talk with the insensitive clod who was going to
leave her cranky and frustrated the rest of the day than worry about
being seen naked. After all, the showers had a much higher degree of
tolerance for nudity compared to the dormitory. Oh, what the boys would
give to see her memories of here caught in a pensieve...

    The compartment was a tad on the small side, but still plenty
adequate for its intended purpose. The problem, of course, was that
while she could pretty much conceal herself behind the privacy wall,
someone walking past might still be able to see her flailing hands at
work. Given that Hermione was contemplating performing a very personal
function, the chance of getting caught was just too high to be worth
the risk. As far as she knew, the showers might only get more crowded
the moment she started to diddle herself, forcing an agonizing flameout
that would make her feel worse than if she hadn't started in the
first place. True, no one could really see her if she scrunched up in a
corner, past the nozzle, but all it would take was a single unlucky
moment for her escapades to become the talk of Gryffindor - for both
the girls and boys. She could already imagine the snide comments about
how miss-know-it-all had finally found something more important than
books, and had to grin at the idea. Well, it was, wasn't it?

    Huddling as close to the spout as she dared, Hermione turned the
water on and began the short battle to find her ideal temperature. She
was well aware that her butt was poking out from behind the stone
outcropping in this awkward position, but still vastly preferred it to
being doused with the chilly reserve left in the pipes. After a tense
twenty seconds or so, it at last ran out and was replaced by a
comfortable, but still brisk stream that the shivering witch leapt into
without delay. There was no point in raising the water to her usual
preference of 'bloody scalding', as several of the Weasleys
jokingly pointed out when she stayed with them. In fact, a milder
setting might actually help her cool off a bit.

       Getting to work at once, Hermione commenced a quick, vigorous
scrubbing that would hopefully help her forget that she wasn't
furiously getting herself off as she'd originally intended. The
disgruntled teenager lathered her skin up roughly, as if trying to
punish her flesh being so damned childish in its request for attention.
Despite every setback, she was still painfully horny, and it seemed
that no matter how much water she let flow over her throbbing slit, the
fire there simply would not be quenched.

       "Fuck..." Hermione said softly, the uncharacteristic
expletive gracefully drowned out by the invigorating spray. Adolescence
was truly doing some remarkable things to her body, but she completely
despised losing control like this and letting her emotions run away
unchecked. The overwhelming impulse to placate her sex became
increasingly more difficult to resist, for the brilliant witch's
slick mounds and slippery vee tingled potently with every barest hint
of contact with her hands. She tried using ever-harsher strokes to dull
the kindling sensations, but the urge only resurfaced with increasing
intensity. Groaning in frustration as she felt her rosy nipples harden,
begging for stimulation, Hermione weakly attempted to bend her mind to
something else, seeking the sobering refuge of her love of schoolwork
to calm her down. As she soon found out, however, it was exceedingly
difficult to conjure up any non-erotic mental image in such an excited
state.

       Those long hours spent in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom perfecting
Polyjuice Potion? Instantly interrupted by an almost-forgotten memory
of Ron accidentally getting an eyeful her then-hairless vaginal folds
pressing invitingly against the front of her panties while she naively
sat indian-style on the floor. It hadn't been his fault she'd been
sitting that way, of course, and even then she understood why he chose
not to say anything, but it had still provoked a customary umbrageous
rant on her part. Harry had smirked uneasily at the two of them, no
doubt wishing he'd been the one in his buddy's place.

       Even recalling the amount of time Hermione had passed in the
common room helping her friends with their homework wasn't safe from
the intrusion of raunchy thoughts. The first thing that sprung to mind
was an innocuous spring day last term when Harry had asked her to
quickly glance over a History of Magic study sheet. She had innocently
joined him on the couch to read it - first leaning on his shoulder,
then quickly losing herself in the page as her head slid down into his
lap, giving the poor boy a raging erection that they both noticed in
short order. There had been a rather clumsy silence between the two of
them before she could gracefully extricate herself from the situation
by feigning the need for a certain textbook.

    "Goddamn it... can't you think of anything else?" Hermione
silently chastised herself, fingers twitching and daring her to make
that deft motion between her legs that would make everything all
better. She knew she could force herself to put aside her reservations
and just go ahead if she really wanted, but that went against
everything that was Hermione Granger. The frazzled teenager's pride
was self-control, which was usually above such comparatively petty
things as her next another orgasm. Someone might be able to hear her
fingers moving back and forth over the din of falling water. For
goodness sake, she wasn't even sure all girls even did it the same
way! For all she knew, everyone else was prim and daintier in touching
themselves, and she was some sort of depraved pervert by attacking her
genitals like a fiend every time she played with herself. And what if,
during the most important part, she let out a sound - a moan or grunt
that would alert everyone to what she was up to? Even if she remained
completely restrained for the entire act, there was still a chance that
someone might simply mistake her stall for an empty one and walk in
while she was going at it, seeing everything!

       The nerve-wracking stress was nearly enough to burst a vessel in
her brain by now (and not for the first time in her short life), but
then Hermione heard what was perhaps the sweetest sound in her life
thus far. A high-pitched, metallic whine drifted it from across the
way, and she immediately identified it as the sound of someone turning
the water off. "Thank Merlin..." she rasped quietly, irresistible
excitement bubbling up inside. The sorceress' heart quickened... fate
had given her a reprieve. Grinning eagerly, she cranked the heat up as
far as she could stand.

       It took forever for Vicky to gather up her things and leave, but
the glorious sound of a sandals loudly making their way back up the
stairs was well worth it. Able to take no more, Hermione completely
gave in to her own depravity. Throwing herself up against the
partition, she shuddered from the effort it had taken to restrain
herself so far, saving the moment before that first electric jolt with
a sadistic relishing. The ravenous sorceress could only stand there
glassy-eyed as the shower's gentle spray massaged the front of her
body, pussy aching as she entwined two fingers in the generous swirl of
her pubic hair above before sinking them between that lovely valley.
Some small part of her wanted to cry out in delirious joy from the
sensation, letting the whole castle know how good it felt, but
willpower miraculously prevailed, and Hermione settled for gasping,
stilted gasps of relieved satisfaction.

    Her soft behind mashed slowly against wet tile, forced into motion
as she rocked her hips gently against the lovely friction provided by
her caring hand. Further up, her shoulder blades roughly scraped the
cool stone as the entranced girl helplessly arched her back in a meager
compromise to the tide of blissful feelings. Hermione's whole body
was slowly setting into the oft-repeated exercise - her vacant eyes
drifting shut, delectable mouth gaping open, and both feet clenched
together tightly until she was standing on tiptoe, heels propped
against the wall for support.

    The novice wizardress normally cavorted with gorgeous, impossibly
well-chiseled hunks in her sexual fantasies, usually representing a
random upperclassmen from one of the other houses - sometimes even
Slytherin, if she was feeling particularly perverted that day. It
allowed her to indulge in harmless illusions of the cheap, slutty
hookups the older Gryffindors talked so fondly of... something that
actually had some appeal to her deep down, though she'd never admit
it. The idea of two people being able to bump hips and take care of a
mutual need, then part amicably - it seemed so perfectly simple
sometimes...

       And it could be. At least for now. This was, after all, her
fantasy.

       Like usual, Hermione made sure her phantom mate was a perfect
gentleman regarding foreplay. Shifting slightly until the water was
hitting her breasts, she was almost able to feel the pair of strong
hands gingerly cupping her soft orbs. It was harder to conceive what it
would be like to have a man's hand pressing into that sensitive cleft
below her waist, but she did her best, pretending that the fingers
thrashing down there were being helped and augmented by another set
that knew exactly how to incendio her womanly flame...

       This time, however, Hermione found it very difficult to
conceptualize even the broadest features of this imaginary partner, a
task she'd never had problem with before. Something in the back of
her mind kept suggesting someone who was taller than her usual
pseudo-lover... almost... gangly. It was a little disconcerting, but
she couldn't quite put her finger on why that was, because another
strange impulse was bothering her as well - a curious insistence that
he suddenly have a mop of tangled, reddish hair. But that could only
mean...

     "Jeez, I'm going crazy..." she realized dreamily, not daring
to stop shoving those two slender digits sliding through her lubricated
crack despite the realization of who she was thinking about. Hermione
was dead-set on coming her pretty little brains out first. She could
pine and fret and worry about what this confusing omen meant
afterwards. Right now, pleasure came first.

    The disoriented witch focused all her efforts back to
self-gratification, rewarded with a sudden, overwhelmingly smutty
desire to curl her fingers up at the end of their magnificent path,
allowing one to playfully poke between her nether lips. Up until her
fairly recent discovery of the magic of climaxing, the only time
she'd dared insert a slender digit in her womanhood was during the
perfunctory exploration of her fragile sex at the beginning of puberty
- which came to a screeching halt the second she detected that
all-important barrier inside her. It could have been so easily been
punctured then in an unfortunate moment of curiosity, and the notion
had scared Hermione from trying it for years afterwards.

       She had thought about tempting chance again, though, now that
she was older and more experienced with how everything worked down
there. The potent urge had been steadily gnawing away at the
bushy-haired witch with alarming frequency of late, and she had already
given in on one occasion since returning to Hogwarts. Rubbing the
outside of her vagina certainly felt good, but it couldn't possibly
compare to the dizzying sensation of her inner walls actually squeezing
something solid and potent before she pulled out with a pang of regret.
Hermione was pretty certain that her cherry would be gone at the end of
her fourth year. If not due to a boy, then by her own hand.

    Imagining the grateful face of her first love knowing she was
giving that priceless gift to him and no other was the only thing that
stayed her hand, although she did slip a finger into her warm depths
just a tiny bit to whet her desire. The eerily familiar male in her
fantasy adapted to her thoughts, placing his hands on the wall behind
her so he could move on to the act of penetration. Hermione often
wondered what the real thing would feel like, teasing herself with the
knowledge that her imagination couldn't even come close to it, then
sadly resigned herself to sensibly jacking her hand back and forth
across that tender swath between her legs. There was no point in
potentially ruining a good, explosive release with a crash of pain. Not
when it was just getting good...

       The world around Hermione had dropped quietly away while she did
her thing, replaced by a tenuous, hazy force-field holding back reality
through the sheer, adamant will of her own sexual drive. Flesh met
flesh, guided by a thin sheen of water as each part swelled longingly
against the other in scarcely contained anticipation of the age-old
practice. She was forced to stifle groans of contentment as they tried
to escape her throat in announcement how happy she was at the moment.
Only by gritting her teeth firmly and forcing the sound to break upon
her lips could Hermione somehow manage to keep her excitement muffled
by the shower's ambient roar. The measure wouldn't mask her actions for
long, however, so ere the horny wizardress could slip and let out a
tell-tale rasp of passion that would herald her glee to anyone on the
stairway, she deftly flicked her thumb across that delightful spot
which could stand stimulus only in the throes of utter passion.

    Hermione's resulting orgasm was utterly beautiful, producing the
most precious expression ever on her face as she came. As soon as the
energetic youth's clumsy finger brushed that tiny nub, her entire
lower body start convulsing in spasms of ecstatic bliss. The climaxing
witch's cute toes curled helplessly along with her slender calves,
which tensed forcefully in proof of the torrential sensations engulfing
her body. Hermione's inner thighs jiggled seductively from the
astounding speed of an anxious hand blazing through her crotch, and the
moaning girl's vaginal passage couldn't resist contracting feebly
around nothing, yearning desperately for something hard to squeeze and
caress. Hermione dimly sensed herself peeling away from the wall as her
hips instinctively sought out hardness she was imagining there, but she
was far too gone to do halt her declining sense of coordination.

    Her buttocks slapped wetly against the stone as she tried to
control herself, resulting in an amusing fight against the imminent
failure. Passion had gripped Hermione fully, and she let out louder
groans now in spite of her surroundings. Wetness that was not water
began coating the exhilarated witch's fingers as jolts of pleasure
rocketed up her back and across her chest, helped by the presence of a
hand which had surreptitiously wandered upwards to gleefully mash her
breasts together. Just when Hermione thought she would end up fainting
from the pleasure, the bright lights in her head flickered brilliantly
one final time, then slowly began to dim.

    Panting breathlessly, she gently slid to the floor, cradling her
inflamed womanhood the whole way down. "Unnhh..." she panted
breathlessly, gasping for air. "Yessss..."

*******************

       Draco Malfoy was in total agreement, and would have gladly
offered to help her solve the dilemma of her virginity earlier had
doing so not required him to break his cover. It had taken weeks of
painstaking effort (and not a little bit of luck) to discover a way
into Gryffindor Tower that not only bypassed that painted hag's
enchantment, but also led to this lucky find. Such a once-in-a-lifetime
gift wasn't to be thrown away on a mere barb at the mudblood,
regardless of how riotous it would be to see her shriek and dash away.

       Most wizards at Hogwarts naturally assumed that the same barrier
that kept meddlesome students from simply flying through the window of
another house extended around the entire complex. Of those who knew
better, Draco was still the only one to actually prove it in a
generation. He was rather proud to think he'd discovered a secret of
Hogwarts long since lost, maybe as far hence as its legendary founders.
For one of them to have purposefully built a functional, but totally
unnecessary maintenance tunnel around the girls' showers was pure
audacity. It could only have been clever Salazar, his work foiling
muggle-born interlopers all these years later.

       "Come on Granger..." he had said quietly in the darkness, robes
cast aside so he could jerk himself off while watching her through a
minute crack in the wall. "Hurry it up already..."

       It was sheer luck that Draco had spotted her at all in the first
place. There was plenty of preparation required in getting here, since
he had to first use one of Slytherin's passwords in a rather public
corridor. Finding it deserted was a true test in patience, although
once inside, the second hidden passage could be traversed easily, as
long as you knew what to do. Oddly enough, Malfoy had discovered this
secret-within-a-secret purely by accident, while its larger tributary
remained common knowledge in his House. He still hadn't decided yet
whether to keep the knowledge to himself, or share it with his friends
and risk the staff finding out.

       One of the few times he could be sure of access was early in the
morning, although that carried the unfortunate downside of the showers
being deserted most of the time. Draco first spotted that blob
Frobisher, and seeing her shamelessly pawing herself had nearly killed
his hardon. Still, he would have been willing to make do he couldn't
find anyone else. Some pre-teen he didn't recognize was tentatively
stepping into another stall, but that certainly didn't do it for him.
Kiddies were for scaring, not wanking.

       He casually moved on, only to spy Hermione performing her most
private act - something he thought would have taken all year to
chance across, given the way she came off so prissy and demure. The
insufferable cunt was so fucking haughty that proving she was just like
everyone else when it came down to the basics was even more satisfying
than he thought it would be. And, topping it off, the bitch put on a
great show to boot! She humped back and forth between the wall and her
hand like an animal, facial features scrunched up in a grimace of epic
concentration broken only by shudders of excruciating delight when her
shaky wrist bumped against her clit.

       "Right, finish my show..." he had demanded in a rough whisper,
speeding things up as Hermione started to convulse and spasm. Darkly,
he wished the peephole was bigger to he could blast his load clear
through and all over her scrunched-up face, but that would surely mean
an end to these private exhibitions. There was something compelling
about watching your enemy at their most vulnerable... it was terribly
hypnotic. He couldn't stand to be in the same room as this despicable
blood traitor for long, yet she was easily making his prick harder than
he could ever remember. "If that's not fuck all..." he mused sullenly.

       Malfoy's seed shot out in thick, impressive bursts, surprising
and worrying in their uncomfortable intensity. As the greasy fluid
joined countless other ancient deposits, Hermione had an orgasm along
with her unnoticed witness, fiercely chafing her womanhood with an
amazing lack of restraint. She thrust her crotch unwittingly towards
him in a mesmerizing display, mouth quivering in words he couldn't make
out, but forced conjecture of anyway. The result was stomach-churning
cognition that shattered him worse than any of his father's punishments
ever could. Confused and betrayed, Draco groaned and hurriedly stuffed
his dripping member back in his pants, emotions reeling as he stumbled
his way back out the tunnel.

*******************

    Sitting on the shower floor, motionless after collapsing from the
effort of her torrential climax, Hermione was perilously close to
zoning out and letting the way her head was resting against the cool
wall carry her away with the sandman. Though she'd slept much longer
than usual, even for a weekend, masturbating twice in a day's time
had utterly drained her. She wasn't used to pushing her body like
this before. Obliged to ask herself it was possible to actually pass
out from coming that hard, the exhausted witch was forced to realize
that the answer was affirmative.

    Hermione was astonished at the force of her vastly untapped sex
drive, which had snatched a normal girl up in its powerful maw, tossed
her about like a rag doll, then left the fragile adolescent shivering
in blessed agony. The first idea to pop into her mind was an infantile
plea to do it again, but after focusing on the throbbing distress still
pulsing within her vagina, though, Hermione swiftly concluded that
after the way she'd abused herself, her tender privates would strongly
protest even relaxing to pee at this point, much less submitting to
further strenuous manipulation.

    The butterbeer from last night combined with having just stirred
her internal organs in a tempest of frenzied activity begged to
disagree, however. Almost as soon as she staggered to her knees, an
insistent pressure appeared behind her abdomen, much too strong to be
worth holding in until she was done washing. "This is so
disgusting..." she thought, a hot blush rising in her cheeks as she
grudgingly positioned herself spread-legged over the drain and let her
water flow. Hermione's sore pussy thankfully didn't object too
much, and after the degrading necessity was finished, she slowly got
back on her feet.

    The groggy haze clouding her mind has almost cleared when an odd
grunt and thump echoed dully nearby. Her skin had been numbed by the
shower's spray a good deal by now, yet the agile sorceress still
managed to snap to attention at the warbled sound, trying to determine
it's true location. Guided by instinct, she hastily grabbed the soap
and tried to pretend as if she hadn't just been rubbing her slit raw,
in case someone else was outside.

    By the time Hermione had calmed down a bit and gone over her body
again (washing her hair would have to wait until later), she had just
about decided that the sound had been in her head. After shutting off
the water and stepping out of her stall, she headed for a table in the
center of the room where house-elves magicked up fresh towels. To her
great surprise, another girl (Natalie McDonald, a first year) had
indeed arrived undetected. Had she not just crashed naked to the ground
for some strange reason, the busy fourth-year would have not known
about her company at all.

    To say that she was terrified would have been an understatement.
The discovery stopped Hermione dead in her tracks, and she instantly
tried to gauge Natalie's flushed face for signs of embarrassment at
having overheard a classmate in the heat of desire. But, as the tiny
girl immediately turned an even brighter red and tried to hide her
undeveloped figure as she rose and hurriedly stacked the fallen towels
back in place. "Slipped on my way in..." she said nervously,
slinking away as soon as she was done.

    Hermione let herself breathe easy again. It was only a case of a
newcomer to Hogwarts being a little self-conscious about the communal
showers and doing something goofy. All of them had been like that in
the beginning. You got used to it, eventually.

    The younger witch kept sneaking peeks at her progenitor out the
corner of her eye while adjusting the water, obviously fascinated by
proof of what would soon start happening to her own body in the near
future. It was amusingly obvious, but Hermione didn't say anything.
Although somewhat disappointed at no longer leading the fourth-years in
the breast department thanks to Parvati, she still rather enjoyed the
attention a little bit. Girls were always so petty and envious of each
other's development, regardless of how generous nature had been to
them. Boys, of course, were even worse - hanging like vultures on
every tiny flash of underwear or boob slip that happened as a matter of
course with such juvenile tenacity. It was so much better for her
femininity to be admired rather than exploited for once, even in
jealousy.

       Since her exposed naughty bits were no doubt curiously puffy and
much rosier than usual, Hermione decided to glide over to the towels
and cover herself up without further delay. She knew she was breathing
noticeably harder than usual for a simple bathing visit, but hoped
Natalie was too na�ve to understand things like that yet. The two of
them just smiled curtly and acted like nothing was amiss in the
slightest before going about their separate business. After dressing
quickly, Hermione deposited the rest of her stuff upstairs and then
headed back to the common room. The day was looking peachy so far, and
it wasn't even breakfast yet. Even the Fat Lady was in reasonably
good spirits, only opening a careful eye to see who had passed while
she continued to pretend snoozing.


**************************************************************************************
Author's Corner:

    Looking back, I think the first half is perhaps too long and should
have been a separate, short story, but once I had begun I didn't really
want to cordon it off into a separate file to get forgotten about. So,
I plodded on. In the future, though, I'll try to keep it focused more
on the classroom exercises. It's just that the schedule I've
devised is very slow going, so there won't be much action for a few
chapters yet. I needed to throw some smut in, you see :)
    As for the schedule itself, I'll post it on my website so you can
get an idea of where this story is headed. Since they won't be
getting into the sex for a bit longer, I felt a little action up-front
was required, and that only left Hermione getting herself off. From now
on, I'll try to cover 2 or 3 lessons (depending on their subjects) a
chapter. The next one is already finished (was planning on that being
part of this, until I realized how long this scene was) and three is
also started.
    Fun fact: when Hermione recalls Ron getting an view of her panties
while making Polyjuice potion, that's from a most excellent photoshop
of a Chamber of Secrets promotional still. I highly recommend hanging
around 4chan until someone eventually reposts it :) Please don't ask
me for a copy, since I'm understandably hesitant to email even fake
pictures of underage girls.
    And yes, I just noticed that I have Gryffindor going up to the same
classroom every week while their classmates rotate (with presumably
different teachers). Oops :) I thought about writing in a fix, but it
would just take too much extra brainstorming on what I've got in my
head and a while longer to fix up the first two chapters. I'm kinda
attached to this lone classroom all by itself :)
       The part from Draco's point-of-view is one of my few forays into
angst, which I steer very clear from when reading other fanfiction. It
surmises my thoughts on the Draco/Hermione ship rather well, I think.
Yes, he's caught between two words. Hermione obviously attracts him on
a subconscious level, though whether or not he recognizes this as what
it is and merely hides behind taunts or does not know is up for debate
-- the books are written from Harry's perspective. In this story, he
discovers with alarm what he really thinks of her and it disgusts him,
mostly because every fiber his his upbringing tells him it should.
       Even if he hadn't been aligned with the death eaters, though, it
would never have worked. The fact that he seems helpless to see past
what he was nutured on when many other wizards (good and bad) have
switched sides based on their beleives means he could never be strong
enough of conviction to appeal to Hermione. (above was written before
HBP, and confirmed now by his inability to become a full-fledged death
eater by killing Dumbledore).
       These are the only plausible ways I can think of for a pairing
of unequal stature: Forced (Yuna/Seymour, hard to do without rape,
blackmail, or coersion), Supported (Ayla/Kino, Hermione isn't the
type for domination OR subservience), and Pity (George/Lorraine McFly,
but I don't really find that appealing)
       This is the first story I'm submitting in HTML format, due to
the endless waste of time it took to rewrite lines so they looked nice
against the right side of the page. I've actually converted and begun
a lot of stories since decided to change over, but as I haven't
finished anything in about four months, well... let's just say I'm
real happy I've finally knocked another one down. In addition, I've
also changed the amount of stars used to indicate a scene-change along
with my transition. It's nineteen, for those of you who are Dark
Tower fans :)
        Next up: a continuation of my "Mayhem at the Burrow" series
thanks to a helpful reader's ideas.

Begun: 3/12/05
Finished: 7/21/05
Total Editing Time > 53 hours
Please feel free to repost this story.
More stories at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/vgss/www/index.html
Backup site: http://vgss.cyberfreehost.com
Email questions, comments, and suggestions to vgss@email.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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