The Gryffindor Common Room was usually a hub of activity, filled with the sounds of laughter, conversation, and the occasional spell gone wrong. But late at night, when most of the inhabitants had retired to their beds, it transformed into a peaceful oasis. Hermione Granger settled into a comfortable armchair near the fireplace, a book about ancient runes open on her lap. The flickering flames cast a warm glow over the common room, and Hermione couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment as she lost herself in the pages.
But her peaceful solitude was interrupted by the entrance of Harry Potter. He looked unusually mischievous, a grin spreading across his face as he spotted Hermione. She raised an eyebrow at him, setting her book aside. "What are you up to, Harry?" she asked, suspicion lacing her voice.
Harry approached her, his eyes gleaming with a hint of danger. "I've been thinking about your breasts and nipples, Hermione," he confessed, his voice low and husky.
Hermione rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance. "Only you, Harry, could turn a simple conversation into something so crude."
Harry leaned closer to Hermione, his hand reaching out to gently cup her breast. "I can't help it. You're just so irresistible."
Hermione swatted his hand away, but she couldn't hide the slight blush on her cheeks. "You're such a Neanderthal, Harry."
Harry chuckled, his fingers tracing a path up Hermione's arm. "And you love it."
Hermione scoffed, but she didn't pull away. "I do not."
Harry leaned in closer, his breath hot against Hermione's neck. "Then why are your nipples getting hard?"
Hermione gasped as Harry's teeth gently nipped at her earlobe. "You're impossible," she whispered.
Harry's hand returned to Hermione's breast, squeezing gently. "And you're mine," he growled.
Hermione's breath hitched as Harry's thumb brushed over her nipple. "Only for tonight," she reminded him, her voice barely above a whisper.
Harry's hand moved lower, cupping Hermione's ass. "I'll take what I can get," he murmured, his lips finding hers in a passionate kiss.
Hermione's heart raced as she kissed him back, her hands tangling in his hair. She knew she should resist, that this was a dangerous game they were playing. But she couldn't help herself. Harry had always had this effect on her, ever since they had first met.
"You're such a bastard," she breathed, pulling him closer.
Harry's hand moved lower, slipping beneath Hermione's skirt. "And you love it," he murmured, his fingers finding the wet heat between her legs.
Hermione moaned as Harry stroked her, her hips grinding against his hand. She knew they shouldn't be doing this here, in the common room where anyone could walk in at any moment. But she couldn't bring herself to care.
"Harry," she gasped, her orgasm building.
Harry's lips found hers again, silencing her moans as she came apart in his arms.
"You're mine," he whispered again, his fingers still moving lazily against her.
Hermione smiled, her head resting against his shoulder. "Only for tonight," she repeated, her eyes closed as she savored the aftershocks of her orgasm.
Harry's hand stilled, and Hermione could feel him smiling against her hair. "I'll take what I can get," he murmured again, his arms wrapped tight around her.
For now, Hermione was content to let him have her. She knew that in the morning, things would be different. But for tonight, she was his.
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