Get On Your Knees

After Ronald leaves them in the Forest of Dean, latent feelings and tension burst and Hermione gives Harry something he’s, apparently, wanted since third year.


“Get on your knees.”

The wind whipped around the tent, and while running for their lives didn’t quite make for the most of erotic of moods, Ronald had been gone for days, they had at least one answer to their larger questions, and they had both needed something to take their minds off the dark road ahead. 

They’d danced, and somehow, in the few breaths after, he’d surprised her. Their gazes met the moment she wanted to turn away, and he pulled her to him and kissed her. She was grateful, at least, his technique was unsure rather than sloppy. Gently, she corrected him with a hand in his hair and a gentle tug. He groaned into her mouth and slid his tongue smooth and eager into hers. 

She knew how highly he regarded his relationship with Ronald. Ronald was the first wizarding friend he’d ever made, but apparently, there had been something more pressing on his mind than the brotherly bond mended and stretched thin intermittently over the years.

Apparently, it was her. He had a strange way of showing it, but she would question him about it eventually. For now, there was a distraction and release to chase.

Though he was clearly unpracticed, he made up for it with his eagerness. His hands slipped around her waist and, ever the gentleman, they slipped no farther than to hold her against him. It was sweet and unlike most other embraces she’d experienced save the first time Viktor had kissed her. She bit back the praise she wanted to give him and licked into his mouth as she led him towards the table. She sat and he bent over to not lose contact with her lips. 


“Get on your knees.”

He sunk to his knees, and she undid her jeans. Offering him a leg, she lifted her hips so he could pull them off with a shudder, no doubt catching sight of her mostly plain white underwear. She licked her lips and met his gaze, sliding her thumbs along her hips and lifting her hips. He bit his lip and a stifled grunt came from him as he pulled off her panties. 


“Yes, Harry?”


“Don’t like being teased?” Hermione asked as she kicked off her panties and slid forward a bit. 

His nostrils flared, and his eyes darkened as she looked at him. There was a question in his eyes and hesitation to ask it. Maybe he’d asked someone before, a witch who had been stupid or too steeped in wizarding nonsense to understand what it was he was interested in and why. 

Maybe it had been Ginny and that had ended their relationship. Hermione knew Ginny and Dean had gone quite farther than snogging while they dated. 

Maybe it had been Cho.

Oh, Harry

She wondered how long he’d been curious, how long since he’d realized that he did, in fact, have hormones beyond adrenaline. 

Hermione smirked, wicked and unapologetic, “Say pretty please.”

He gasped, his eyes searched her and his face reddened, “P-Pretty please?”

She took a handful of his hair and lifted one of her knees onto his shoulder, “Good boy.”

He leaned forward, mouth open, and licked timidly sending a jolt of pleasure through her. A flicker of something passed across his face, she recognized it as surprise and the pleasure that came with learning something about yourself. 

She recognized it from Draco’s face one night before curfew. 

Entranced, he leaned in closer and fit his mouth over her to suck with an obscene groan. She forced her breathing to even out as he pressed forward and slid his tongue into her. With a grunt, he brought his hands to her hips and pulled her closer with a surprising amount of strength, forcing his tongue deeper. She clenched his hair with a gasp and let her legs fall open so he could taste as much as he wanted.

She gasped and leaned back, “Gods, Harry, that’s perfect.”

He groaned and forced her back across the bench, seeming to take more pleasure in pleasuring her than she thought possible. Of all the young men she’d gotten on their knees, Harry seemed to enjoy it the most. She didn’t know if it was because he was thankful she hadn’t left with Ronald, horny beyond belief, or had just always been aching for someone to sit on his face.

Maybe the adrenaline was sinking in, maybe the stress of the years had finally caught up to both of them and forced them to acknowledge they were best friends, but gods, there could have always been something more. Seeing the light in his eyes, a subtle glow within the green, she put her foot on his shoulder and pushed him back. He held on to her, leaning forward, and she pushed him back again until he stopped.

“Not yet.”

Harry licked his lips and looked up at her, watching her take her shirt off. 

“I should warn you, Harry, once isn’t going to be enough.”

His face flushed and dropped his gaze. Something hot and erotic shocked her at the sight. 


At this point, she really should have been aware of what the sight of someone looking at her like that would do to her.

After all, Draco had looked at her the same way.

“I know about you and Cormac.”

Her eyebrow quirked.

“And Draco.”

She grinned.

“And Blaise,” she hummed, impressed, “And Viktor.” 

She smiled, “Asked about me, did you?”

“I have at least an idea of what I’m getting into.”

“Oh, Harry,” she chuckled, breathy, and delighted. “That was adorable.

His eyes widened as she stood up and let her shirt fall from her shoulders before getting him onto his feet and undoing the buttons of his shirt and jeans. 

“Did they tell you I’m demanding?” 

“Erm–” he gasped as she shoved his shirt off his shoulders.

“Or maybe they said insatiable?” She shoved his pants down his hips with his boxers and his face turned red.


“Or perhaps,” she said forcing him onto the cot and straddling his naked hips, “They told you I was impossible.”

“They didn’t tell me anything,” Harry gulped, “Surprisingly.”

“Even better.” 

Harry remained frozen under her gaze as she cast another privacy ward around the tent and their safe area that would keep anyone from coming in and couldn’t be undone from the outside. It wouldn’t last forever, but it would be long enough and that’s all that mattered.

She hummed, impressed. He was still fit from his Quidditch days, well-trained and harder from the days on the run and near-endless walking across Britain, but none of that was what had her most interested. 

It was his cock surrounded by dark wiry hair, standing straight, red, large, and leaking. She guessed he was at least as long as Blaise was, maybe a hair thinner than Viktor had been and as straight as Draco. 

“Aren’t you a specimen, Harry?”

He ducked his head, “Erm…”

She smirked, undoing her bra, and gesturing him to scoot back on the cot. He looked up at her nervous and lost in his desire as she straddled his hips.


“I… just don’t want to be bad at it…the least I could do is make you feel good.”

She smiled and leaned down to kiss him gently, “As sweet as always.”

She sat back up, “Don’t worry about it. Just relax and enjoy it.”

He practically screamed when she rolled her hips against his, just sliding his dick through her hot, wet slickness. He was deliciously hard and getting harder with every roll, squirming beneath her.

“Oh, Hermione, please… sweet– fuck–“

She chuckled; she had plans for him, plans to make him so needy that any fear of not pleasing her would be gone. Technique could be taught if someone was willing to learn.

Eagerness, trust, openness, the will to let her have what she wanted was not something that could be taught. It had to be there from the beginning.

It had always been in Harry, her green-eyed, handsome, slightly timid best friend who had restrained more of himself over the years than a young man should have. She’d break those restraints and make him choose not to pick them back up when everything was over.

The thought thrilled her. Perhaps, when this was all over, they’d pick this up again. Maybe the prospect would motivate him to live.

“Please,” he panted, “Please.”

She smirked and ignored his pleading, relishing the way he looked up at her, something like desperate anger and desire rising in his eyes. She felt his magic rising and licked her lips. It was the best part, a thrill she’d discovered while she was with Viktor and again with Draco. Cormac’s magic wasn’t exactly strong enough, or maybe not strong enough in relation to her own, for it to feel like this. Harry’s magic and rose hot a bright beneath his skin, burning and filling his eyes. 

“Make me come first,” she panted. “And I’ll make you forget.”

He nodded desperately, grabbing at her hips. She crawled up and slid a hand through his hair as she straddled his head and lowered herself so he could resume what he’d been doing with a pleased groan. 

She was impressed by his natural talent and his ability to take direction. At her order, his hand wrapped around his cock and stroked. His eyes met hers desperate and begging as he fucked her with his tongue until she was coming with a pleasured gasp. She lifted as he panted beneath her. 

“Please, gods, please.

She smirked and crawled back slowly down his body before kissing him deeply. She whispered her preferred contraception charm against his mouth and slid down onto his cock in one smooth glide. 

His entire body tensed. He panted and moaned, holding still. She bit his lip and let him strain beneath her. His hands fisted the sides of the cot as she wrapped her hand around his jaw and turned his face back to look up at her as she rolled her hips. 

He was beautifully undone.

It seemed every movement was too much, his eyes rolled back and he was lost to a wave of pleasure as Hermione enjoyed his thick heat inside her. 

“You’re a bit bigger than I thought,” Hermione breathed and bit her lip, “Gods, that’s perfect. Oh, Harry, you would have been wasted on whatever idiot didn’t let you.”

His eyes widened, and he looked away, ashamed. She rolled her hips, and he hissed, canting his hips up against her.

“None of that,” Hermione nipped his jaw and spoke softly against his throat. “You’re with me, sunshine. And if you have a fascination and desire to use that rather talented mouth of yours for more than spell casting, I’m all for it.”

He panted, “Hermione… I don’t think…”

“You don’t have to. The spells will last quite a while. I think we deserve a bit of a break.”

Hermione had no idea how long she rode him before he took over and proceeded to apply the rather thorough lesson she gave him to both of their satisfaction. When it was clear he was spent, and she still had a while to go, he spread her legs and licked her clean. 

“Harry!” she gasped, surprised, and too turned on by the pure erotics of it. 

He seemed more confident, happy to finger her and make her come until she was pushing him away. He slid up to lay beside her, holding her close. They lay together on the cot for a moment with his head on her stomach and her hands in his hair as they came down from the high. Harry had great potential. They had to live so he could explore it fully with and without her. 

Her heart clenched as if it would break and she tightened her grip on him.

Her Harry, the boy who jumped on a troll for her, had to live.

“How long have you been thinking about that?” Hermione asked.

“Which part?” he slurred and kissed her stomach, sighing as she scratched his scalp 

“Merlin, Hermione, probably since third year.”

She chuckled, “Oh?”

“But… it was obvious that Ronald liked you and there were other things on my mind.”

She hummed, “I see… and tongue fucking?”

He groaned, turning his face into her stomach. His face was burning hot and probably red. She pulled his head back by his hair.

“Come now, Harry. I think I have the right to know.”

“I… erm… Fourth year after you and Viktor…”

Her eyebrows went up, “Go on.”

He flushed, “Remus let me have the Marauder’s map, and I went looking for you… I saw you on the Quidditch bleachers.”

Hermione chuckled, “I see. Piqued your curiosity?”

“You could say that,” he turned his head and got up, shaking a bit. “Take first sleep, hm?”

She turned over and watched him slide on his glasses and cast a cleansing spell over them both.

“We have a lot to talk about, Harry.”

“…I know.”

“Look at how much you’ve grown.”

Harry looked at her, “Things are a lot different now. C’est la vie. Carpe diem. Whatever.”

She laughed, “Aren’t you a cunning linguist?

He groaned and turned back to trying to get dressed. 

“Women’s underwear is strange,” he said, picking up their clothes as Hermione lounged on the cot, watching him. 

“What makes you say that?”

“What… is the use of this bow?” Harry asked, holding up her underwear so she could see. On the waistband on the back above the panel of lace that had stretched across her ass, there was a small satin bow. The panties had been a part of a set her mother had given her when she’d turned sixteen and they had to go shopping for her underwear in actual women’s stores.


“Then why is it there?” Harry asked, folding their clothes after waving a quick cleansing spell over them.  

“My ass is a present, Harry,” he flinched as she wiggled her eyebrows. “You don’t agree?”

He flushed, and his eyes slid over her curves hungrily. His cock twitched in interest. Liquid heat pooled in her hips and she drew a finger up her thigh, revealing in the way his gaze followed the movement. 

She smirked, “Say please.”

He licked his lips and approached her, “Please.

Apparently, first sleep would have to wait.

E.J. Wolfe

By BadLuckVixen13

Hello all!
You might know me from and, but I'm on Deviant Art and Newgrounds! There's a story I promised to revamp and am very excited about doing so for Fanatic Musings. I bet you can't guess which one~! How could you? I have so many.

In any case, I'm also a regular on Nanowrimo, so feel free to hit me up there or anywhere else.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.