Chapter Text
Hermione plucked one last reference book from her shelf and tucked it into the brown leather satchel laying open on her bed. A fresh stack of parchment was retrieved from atop her dresser and, after a long moment of hesitation, a pair of knickers also made their way into the bag.
She gave herself a quick once over in the mirror. Even at half eight in the morning it was already obvious the day would be scorching, so she'd worn a light linen breton stripe top with little black shorts, securing her long hair into a messy bun. She slung the thick strap of her satchel over her shoulder and gave her reflection an affirmative nod.
She was ready to go to Hogwarts.
After the party-of-which-she-did-not-speak she had been determined to get to the bottom of the magical phenomenon she and Neville had experienced in the forest. After fruitlessly consulting her own book collection, the limited relevant offerings at the Ministry, as well as the library at Grimmauld Place, she had requested and received permission to visit the Hogwarts library for her ‘personal research project’. Headmistress McGonagall had owled her approval, along with her sincere regrets that she wouldn't be there herself to get in a visit. She did, however, offer her assurances that the staff member staying at the castle through the summer months- Professor Longbottom- would be happy to receive her.
It's not that Hermione felt awkward. Per se. After her slew of humiliating public confessions two weeks ago she wasn't sure she was even capable of proper embarrassment anymore. It's more a case of not knowing what to expect.
Rules, plans, and protocols were generally her lifeline, but whatever etiquette there might be for après-sex with your oldest friend eluded her completely.
She took a deep breath. Nothing to worry over , she reassured herself, there was no one kinder or braver than Neville. One night couldn't possibly do irreparable harm to their relationship. Even if thinking of said night left her feeling about seven different kinds of flustered.
Hermione retrieved a couple diet Cokes from her fridge to sustain her through the morning. Even though she hadn’t been a student for years and Madam Pince wouldn’t be there, smuggling them into the library still felt positively delinquent.
Having wrapped up her mental pep talk, she slipped into her shoes by the fireplace, put her Gryffindor game face on, and grabbed a handful of floo powder, calling out “Hogwarts!” as she threw it overhead.
A moment later she was stepping into the Headmistress’ office to be greeted by a smiling Neville Longbottom, leaning against the Headmistress’ desk with a book in hand, looking every bit the off-duty professor in khakis and a gray polo.
"Hermione," he smiled, straightening.
"Neville," she greeted, “The manbun lives!”
"Ha, yeah," he touched his hair self consciously, "Till the start of term anyway."
"We match," she tipped her head to indicate her own bun as she moved toward him. She went on tiptoe to offer a friendly buss, but found herself in a perilous game of chicken between his lips and cheek. After the longest two seconds of her life she landed on his cheek with what she hoped was a discomfort dispelling chuckle.
"I hope I'm not putting you out by dropping in like this." She ignored the portrait of Dumbledore, who looked altogether too knowing .
"Oh yes, you're quite the imposition," he gestured toward the descending staircase and followed as she moved past him, "I've had to shuffle all sorts of pressing appointments. You've no idea- castle's in an uproar. My geraniums are inconsolable."
As they emerged into the echoing emptiness of the corridor outside she gave him the side eye. They turned toward the library.
Neville smiled, "It's just me, Hagrid, and Filch here through the summer, so yeah, your visit isn’t all that hard to cope with."
"And you're here all summer? Seems awfully... quiet." Lonely felt like too significant a word.
He shrugged, "It suits for now. Hagrid and I take tea, and I try to visit Gran and head down to the Leaky once in a while. Honestly, after living with hundreds of kids for months on end you learn the merits of solitude."
"I bet you're a very popular professor," she mused, thinking back to her own Gilderoy Lockhart fangirl days and imagining there were probably a fair few students with an outsized interest in herbology now that the professor was a ruggedly handsome war hero.
"They don't seem to mind me too much. Probably because I'm a- what was it one of them called me?" his mouth gave a wry twist, "Ah yes, a 'human marshmallow'. But they're good kids, I don't need to get tough with them too often."
"Bit hard to imagine you as a disciplinarian."
"Is it?" he raised a meaningful eyebrow.
Hermione’s eyes flew wide at the implication, "Oh, maybe not." She cleared her throat.
Neville gave a low chuckle, slid his hands into his pockets, and let a quiet moment pass as they descended a stone staircase.
"So, this personal research of yours- is that anything to do with mysteriously glowing soil?" he ventured.
"You didn't think I'd just let that go, did you?"
"I suppose not. Found anything interesting yet?"
"Not a thing," she gave a deep sigh, "I'm starting to think that what I'm looking for is the sort of thing only found in old, personal book collections. It's so strange. There's clearly legitimate magic involved; someone, somewhere must have recorded something about it."
Neville nodded, "I mean, I'm aware of it in old magic, Celtic traditions, in general terms- uh, sex magic, that is- but it's not something I've ever seen anything specific about." He looked thoughtful for a moment, "If you don't find anything here you'd be welcome to check my family library. There's definitely sections there that haven't been touched in a few generations and my family has always respected the old ways."
"Thanks, I appreciate that," she saluted as they drew up in front of the library.
"Of course I'll want to come along if you go," he grinned down at her, "Wouldn't want to miss you explaining to Gran what you're looking for."
"Neville!" she swatted his arm, " Merlin ."
"Well, I suppose I best leave you to it. Come find me after? I should be in my classroom."
"I will. Thanks," she smiled.
"Good. Try not to have too much fun, yeah?" he winked, giving a nod to the library, before he turned to go. "If you don't show by sundown I'll form a search party," he called back over his shoulder, “Me and Mrs. Norris.”
She flipped him off in grand style and his answering laugh echoed down the hall.
Hermione’s eyes followed him as he walked off in the direction of the greenhouses.
No, not walked, strolled .
Adult Neville always seemed to move with a leisurely confidence. It brought up an odd mixture of pride and attraction to see him looking so self assured in the same place he'd spent so many years habitually wary and unsure.
She gave herself a mental shake and stepped into the library; she really needed to get a handle on her libido's new Neville fixation. She silently vowed to lock it down and stop letting Neville’s perplexing sex appeal distract her.
It was a noble but fruitless resolution.
Instead, she spent the next several hours mentally replaying their forest encounter in fine detail and imagining them in a vast array of other scenarios as she pored over text after text on ritualistic sex and other magic suffused intimacies.
On the highest shelves of the restricted section there was a veritable bounty of relevant books. Enough to ensure she would definitely be looking askance at Madam Pince when she saw her next.
Hermione took copious notes. The material ranged from the salacious to the unsettling to the ridiculous, some of it explicit to the point of excess and some so coy that it was nearly indecipherable.
Against all her instincts, she gave serious thought to destroying one slim volume for the greater good.
There were things that were relevant to what she and Neville had experienced, things she surreptitiously recorded for future personal use, things she noted as curiosities, dangers, anomalies, and points that merited further investigation.
She was alternately alarmed, aroused, and aggravated.
Almost five hours later she set aside her quill, shook out her cramping hand and stretched in her chair, cracking and popping joints in a move so familiar in these surroundings that she had to laugh. As much as all the jokes about her being a bookworm had long since worn thin, she couldn’t deny that returning to the Hogwarts library felt very much like coming home.
She packed up her bag, lanced her wand through her bun, and took a wandering path toward the exit, basking in nostalgia and running her fingertips fondly along enticing book spines as she went.
The library was temperature controlled to preserve the books, but back out in the castle halls the cellar-like cool of the ground level gradually gave way to the day's heat as she made her way up to the third floor. When she walked into Neville’s classroom it was warmer still, with one wall and half the sloping ceiling being made of leaded glass.
It hadn’t changed much from Professor Sprout's days. Plants hung from the ceiling and lined the walls, work stations that accommodated two students were set in rows facing the professor's desk.
It was a bit surreal to see Neville sitting there at the front of the classroom though. The idea of him as a professor had been decidedly abstract until this moment.
"Success?" he looked up from whatever he'd been writing to offer a smile.
"God, Nev, I don't even know where to start."
He summoned a chair up to his desk, and she settled into it, dropping a large stack of parchment down.
"Want to have a bit of lunch and tell me about it?"
"That would be lovely, thanks," she smiled gratefully.
He summoned an elf to request sandwiches and tea, which took only a few minutes to retrieve.
"Sorry, I know how you feel about elves,” he apologized as they tucked in, “But they don't take well to me preparing meals myself. I suspect they see me as something of a fire hazard in the kitchen, and they're at loose ends with no one else here."
"I suppose that makes sense," she conceded.
"The fire hazard bit, or the loose ends bit?”
She quirked a smile over her teacup, "Isn't it obvious?"
“Very flattering, ta,” he laughed, "Anyway, why don’t you tell me what you found scouring the naughtiest bits of the library."
"First of all, you joke, but you don’t know the half of it; I clearly overlooked a lot of that restricted section in my youth. The things I've seen today, the things I can't unknow…” she shook her head mournfully, “But, I did find quite a lot that might be relevant to," she gestured vaguely, "Us. Basically, by chance and coincidence we brought together elements from all kinds of different spells and rituals."
"Really? But we didn't do anything," his eyes widened as soon as the words left his mouth, and he looked away, flustered, "Well, I mean, we did, y'know, many things, I just mean-"
Hermione threw up a hand; drawing on her recent transcendence of self consciousness. "No- I, yeah, I know. Um, I'll just run through what I think might have been involved, yeah? For starters, not only was it a full moon but there was the Venus trine Pluto transit as well. Being out in the woods, starkers, in a circle, not using protection, the, uh, simultaneous finishing-- all of that are pretty consistent ritual elements."
"Makes sense," he nodded, daring eye contact once again.
"Not to mention the only thing being worn between the two of us was my necklace, which-" she pulled a small gold pendant out from under her shirt to show him, "This was a gift after the war. See the rune there? It translates to 'strength through unity', of all things, so that definitely wasn't doing us any favours. There are also a lot of references in the literature to the act being ’unfettered’, which could be understood a few different ways, but I think what we did would certainly qualify. The Veritaserum takes it to a whole new level, really. And that’s not even mentioning that spell you used to create the circle. Some sort of cedovis charm, was it?”
“Yeah, cedovis lucus ."
"Oof," Hermione winced at the incantation's etymological connotations of 'yielding', 'life', and 'sacred'.
"Plus there was a lot of knotgrass about; some primrose too, though.”
“Yeesh," she winced, "It’s a jumble of things I guess, but obviously we cobbled together something out of it.”
“So… what was it then? The glowing?”
"Well, I don’t want to be dramatic about this, but I’d say we pretty much lay there afterward cuddling on a powder keg. Just a mass of raw, undirected magic."
He leaned back, crossing his arms to think for a minute, “I guess that’s probably the best case scenario. The alternative would be that we accidentally accomplished something we don’t know about.”
“The thought had occurred," she swallowed a final bite of her sandwich and brushed her hands off, "Fortunately intention counts for a lot, so that should spare us from anything too unpleasant. Honestly, Hogwarts really need to add sex magic to the curriculum. It’s bloody dangerous stuff you can just stumble into.”
“If only Snape were still around to teach it,” Neville smirked.
“Tchah, Neville!” she recoiled, “As if I haven’t had enough disturbing mental images today.”
“Well, in lieu of that, have any warnings you’d like to impart?”
“Not really. Now that we’re aware of it, I’m sure we’d notice any red flags. Although I have to say, the possibilities of this kind of magic are… intriguing.”
He shifted in his seat, "Yeah?"
"Some very interesting possibilities, if you ask me. I mean, look at what we did without even trying."
"Perhaps we have a natural talent for it," he ventured.
"People do tend to have natural affinities for different branches of magic."
He held her gaze for a long minute, "It would be a shame to let that go to waste, don't you think?"
"A travesty, really," a smile tugged at her lips as she felt the little knot of anxiety that she’d been harbouring for two weeks unwind, "Wasted research opportunity and all."
He looked relieved, "Very true."
"I mean, we did seem to be pretty excellent at… it."
"I didn't want to be the one to say, but yeah."
"Maybe we should take a look through some of this-" she nodded at the stack of materials she'd compiled, "And find a… research opportunity that suits."
"We owe it to posterity, really."
" Absolutely . There’s another full moon in two weeks, you know."
"Yes, yes, we should do that. Definitely. In the meantime though, it might be prudent to, uh, practice, don't you think?"
She laughed and stood, beginning to walk around to Neville’s side of the desk, "At long last, something I'm not the only one keen to study for."
With a casual tap of his wand against the desk the surface cleared itself of clutter. "If this were on the curriculum I'm sure you'd have had study partners queueing up," his eyes traveled over her, lingering on her bare legs.
"That's not a bad line, Neville."
"You don't need to sound that surprised," he gave her one of his startlingly sexy lopsided smiles, tilting his head up to look at her now that she stood so close.
"Yes, I do. You being all fit is one thing," she took his face between her hands, running her thumbs back and forth through his stubble, "I don't know if I'm equipped to handle you being fit and a flirt."
"Hey, who’s sweet talking who here?"
Even being seated he was nearly eye level with her. She only had to dip her head slightly to capture his lips with her own in a languid kiss that tasted of mint tea.
His tongue brushing hers was the reassuring answer to the question that has hung heavy in the air since she arrived.
Neville’s arms circled her, pulling her in until she was climbing onto his lap, bracketing his hips with her knees. The kiss became more fervent when she felt his arousal growing hard and insistent between her thighs and he groaned as she began to rock against it.
The idea that she was doing this with Neville still gave her a particular kind of thrill, like she was breaking some sort of rule and needed to move quickly before someone realized and tried to stop her.
He broke their kiss and unceremoniously took hold of her shirt hem to pull it up and off, revealing her simple powder blue bra.
He cupped and fondled her breasts as she moved to kiss down his neck. After their previous encounter she'd been covered with little bruises that evidenced his extensive exploration of her body. Now, she wanted to return the favour. He bucked up into her as she lay a hard, sucking bite at the base of his throat. The idea of doing things to a man like him, of making him lose control, was an intoxicating one.
She slithered down from his lap to settle between his legs. She smiled up at him with a look of predatory anticipation as she twisted open the button of his khakis and drew down the zip.
"Hermione-"
She sat back on her heels and drew her wand from her bun. First she banished his trousers and pants, then she pointed the wand at herself, muttering one of the helpful little spells she'd learned only that morning.
Her eyes were drawn irresistibly to the tall, proud length of his cock. Up close and in the light of day it was even more than she'd remembered.
"Hermione," he tried again, "You don't have to-"
She moved back to her knees and shoved his shirt up to his shoulders, "Trust me, I want to." She raked her fingers back down his taut stomach, finding the dark hair spread across his chest and trailing down from his navel softer than she expected. He was tan here too and his abdominal muscles flexed instinctively at her touch.
She took her time, kissing and lightly grazing her nails over his thighs and the grooves of muscle leading down from his hips, until he was shifting impatiently in his chair. He drew a sharp breath when she finally took him in hand, though she couldn’t wholly encircle his girth. She licked a teasing stripe up his length, pausing to suck lightly at the ridge of its head before tonguing circles around the tip. Her fingers were lightly tapping and tugging at his bollocks as she continued her teasing exploration with her tongue.
She looked up through her eyelashes to find Neville had one hand gripping his hair and the other hovering uncertainly by his knee, like he wanted to reach for the back of her head. Perfect.
"Fuck, Hermione," he breathed, "If you could- I just-"
"Tell me. I want to hear you," she murmured before she finally wrapped her lips around him and took him into her mouth. She slid her tongue against him and bobbed over the sensitive head of his cock.
"Yesss," he hissed, "Like that. Fuck you look unbelievable. Just like that. On your knees for me, and-" he cut himself off with a little start as her fingers curled around to begin rubbing little circles into his perineum.
Her other hand moved in tandem with her mouth, as she gradually worked to take more of him in, testing the limits of the spell she'd cast to rid herself of a gag reflex. Neville’s hand finally gripped at the nape of her neck and she moaned a little around him. She backed off, hollowing her cheeks as she went, then plunged down again, taking as much as she could. It wasn’t all, but it was damn close and Neville definitely hadn't expected it.
" Fuck! " he jerked instinctively, forcing himself a little further down her throat and causing her to choke a little,"Sorry, sorry! Fuck , that’s good. Should've known- you've always had such a bloody clever mouth- looks so pretty, so pretty around my cock.” She hovered there, looking at him and giving an encouraging hum, until he began rocking into her with his cock buried deep in her throat. His hands cradled her head in an incongruously tender manner as he fucked her face until he made a strangled noise, “I'm not- I'm going to-"
Hermione pulled away, leaning back as she pumped him with her hand. She wanted to see him come, wanted to wear the evidence of what she'd done to him.
He jackknifed and with a guttural moan he found his release, painting her chest with heavy ribbons of come. It dripped down over the swell of her breasts and she captured a bead on her fingertip, bringing it to her lips for an experimental taste. As the salty tang rolled over her tongue she glanced up to find Neville looking at her like he'd suffered some sort of massive internal collapse.
"That was, um," Neville ducked his head, gripping his armrests, "I'ma need a minute."
Hermione was self satisfaction incarnate.
She hopped up on his desk, leaning back on her hands with an easy smile, swinging her legs a little. She discreetly cast a little spell to tidy herself up.
"Hey, do you think our teachers ever did this?" she said after a minute, bouncing her eyebrows suggestively.
Neville recoiled, "Merciful Morrigan, I hope not."
"Can you imagine?" she mused, scrunching up her nose.
"Thanks to you, that's probably what I'll be doing next staff meeting," he shuddered, "Ergh- Slughorn, Trelawney, Hooch, Flitwick - there are no good answers here."
“Yeah, I did not think that through,” she pulled a face, "Did you ever have fantasies about this while we were at school? Fooling around here, I mean."
"Hermione, I spent my entire adolescence at this school. I had fantasies about having sex in pretty well every nook and cranny of the castle. Most of the grounds too."
"Fair," she grinned, "I used to have a recurrent classroom fantasy myself."
"Is that so?"
"Mmhmm. I'd get a detention that I'd have to serve alone with my professor in his classroom that evening. Completely undeserved of course, since there was no bigger turn off at the time than doing poorly in class, but the professor would always make very sure that I learned my lesson."
The fantasy professor had been a rather vague sort of figure; unsurprisingly, trying to make Snape, or even Lupin, fit the role got her exactly nowhere. Professor Longbottom , however...
" Miss Granger ," Neville’s tone was suddenly authoritative, "I think that brilliant mind of yours is really quite depraved. I'm personally shocked by what you've just told me. It's no wonder you weren't focused in my class today."
Hermione sat up straighter. He was looking at her with a challenge in his eyes and mischief playing on his lips.
"I'm sorry, Professor Longbottom," she said, trying to sound contrite, "I suppose I might have gotten a little distracted."
His hands began running up and down her bare calves. "I expected more from someone who's such an example to her peers. I have to say, I'm very disappointed."
Her face fell immediately and she looked so genuinely crushed at the reprimand that he struggled to maintain his composure and rushed to soften the blow, "We'll have to do something about this, won't we? Are you prepared to show me that you can concentrate on your herbology?"
"Yes," she nodded vigorously, her heart rate speeding up, "I can do better."
"Good, I'm pleased to hear it," he twisted open the button on her shorts and urged her bottom up so he could pull them down and away, revealing her little blue knickers, "Now, I want your hand down your knickers please, Miss Granger."
Her eyes widened but she hastily complied, stuffing her right hand down the front of her knickers, leaning back on her other arm for support.
"I want you to touch yourself," Neville said, his voice a bit rough as he pulled off one of her shoes, then the other. He rubbed his thumbs into her arches soothingly, his large hands dwarfing her petite feet.
Hermione had never done this in front of anyone before. She began to rub circles against her clit, her eyes fixed on Neville’s face, just below his eyes. She could feel her cheeks burning. While she had certainly done more than her fair share of wanking to the thought of Neville since the party, doing it in front of him was one of the few scenarios her imagination had failed to conjure.
"Gods, you're sexy like that, and so good for me," he praised, "Now, can you tell me where one would find the flowers on a shrivelfig plant?"
It took her a moment to refocus. "The blossoms of the shrivelfig are found inside the plant's fruit. The fruit itself is the flower," she dutifully recited.
Neville tutted, "That's correct, but you've stopped touching yourself, haven't you? I need you to convince me that you can apply yourself to herbology even while there are… distractions."
Hermione took a sharp breath and began moving her hand again, "I'm sorry, Professor."
"I'm sure you'll do better," he gave her a little smile and then turned his attention back to the hand moving beneath her knickers, "Can you tell me where the shrivelfig is native to?"
She shifted, "Abyssinia."
"Good. Tell me, are you wet, Miss Granger?"
"Yes," she breathed, "Very, yes."
"I can see that. Poor little knickers are soaked through, aren't they?"
"Mmhmm," she began rocking against her hand, increasing the pressure against her clit.
Neville leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "What are three uses of dittany?"
She bit her lip, taking a moment to marshall her thoughts. "Healing magic, potion making, and- and-" she frowned and her hand slowed, "In wand cores!" Her pace picked back up.
He nodded. "Very good. Can you tell me what you're doing to yourself, love?"
"Rubbing," Hermione swallowed, "Rubbing my clit."
"I want you to use your fingers, I want them inside you. Can you do that?"
Hermione easily slipped two fingers inside her already slick channel and whimpered with both the feel of it and the intensity of Neville’s gaze on her as she did it.
"How am I going to evaluate you if I can't see properly?" he wrapped a hand around her left foot and lifted it onto the desk, spreading her open to his view, "That's better."
She was much more exposed to him now, her pelvis tilted up and legs spread wide. It would have been embarrassing if it weren't for the positively rapturous expression on Neville’s face. Hermione released a shuddering breath and began to curl her fingers against the spot inside that always propelled her toward orgasm.
"Can you tell me what the danger of the dittany plant is?"
"It, um, it can release vapours, um, that are-are- that can catch fire," she doggedly answered.
"Excellent. You're doing so well," he laid a hand on her thigh, giving her an encouraging squeeze, "Can you add another finger for me?"
She was panting as she pulled her hand away to slip a third finger in. Her back began to arch and her toes to curl with the building tension.
"Good. Now then, can you tell me how to identify knotgrass? It's going to be on your NEWT, you know."
"It's a little plant, a-a low lying plant. Tiny flowers, white or-or-or pink, in summer, in-" she stuttered, "Roots. Tangly little roots. Thin… membraneous… stems." She pushed her fingers in deeper, as deep as she could go.
"Such a good girl," his eyes were dark with desire as he looked up at her. She saw he was hard with renewed arousal and it spurred her on. "Are you getting close now?"
"So close," she whimpered, working her fingers harder and grinding her palm against her clit.
Neville gave a low groan and looked almost pained. "Such a good girl. I want you to come for me. This is my desk, Hermione, where I write my lessons and grade essays. I want you to come all over my desk, riding your own hand," his fingers were digging into her thigh now, "I want you to earn that O."
That did it.
" Fuck, " her head fell back and she keened. The coil of tension abruptly released and flooded her chest with the swelling waves of her orgasm as she came in a gush of fluid, clenching around her own fingers.
She pulled her hand free of her sticky knickers and leaned back, weak and panting. Neville stroked her hips and thighs, leaning in to pepper her with little kisses there, telling her how well she'd done, what a good, sweet little swot she was.
She lazily brought a hand up to his head, threading her fingers into his hair and gently scratching his scalp. After a few leisurely minutes she began to squirm as his little kisses became more decisive, moving slowly but deliberately closer .
He peeled her knickers away then bent to give a long, firm lick along her slit and up to her swollen little bud.
"Would you say you learned your lesson, Miss Granger?" he looked up at her with an eyebrow raised.
"I'm not sure," she tried to look very serious as she elaborated, "It's just that herbology is so terribly dull that it's hard to- agh!"
He attacked her ribs with tickling squeezes and she squealed, wiggling up the desk to escape.
"Philistine!" he shook his head at her with mock pique, "You're such a little brat."
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she panted, clutching at her sides defensively.
He hauled her back to the edge of the desk, bent down and kissed her soundly. He pulled back only a few inches to say, "Well, clearly, you've no idea how to conduct yourself in a classroom and have not been appreciating my lessons at all ."
"I promise to try harder, Professor," she said solemnly, closing the small distance to kiss him again.
"Can you prove that to me?"
"I'd like to," she bit her lip, anticipation already building.
"You'll have to work hard for it."
"I will," she rolled her hips up to brush her folds along the hard length of his arousal.
He gave a little hiss of surprise. "Very good. Now, turn around and bend over, Miss Granger."
She hurried to get in position, pressing her hips against the desk and bending at the waist. His hands roved over her back, unclasping her bra then leaving her to wriggle out of it while he divested himself of his shirt.
"You said you were going to be good for me, didn't you?" he asked with an edge to his voice as he palmed her arse.
"Yes, I'll be good," she wiggled a little and stood on tiptoe, trying to entice him to further action.
"Your attention to detail may be wanting, Miss Granger. Did you even think to use a contraceptive charm?"
"No, sir. I'm sorry, I-I didn't think," she was genuinely shocked to have forgotten it entirely.
She felt the tap of his wand near her ribs and then a cool little swirl of magic low in her belly, letting her know the charm had taken effect.
Neville gave a dramatic huff, " Teenagers ."
Hermione couldn’t quite keep back a giggle, peeking over her shoulder at him, "Gods, Neville."
He wore a wide, boyish smile, "What?"
She turned back, shaking her head against the desk, "You're adorable ."
"Adorable? Adorable is what you're going with?" he challenged.
She inhaled sharply as she felt the large, blunt head of his cock prod her entrance. Hermione cleared her throat, "Amongst other things." She swallowed and curled her fingers around the edge of the desk, bracing herself.
He spread her and pushed in. She was practically purring in anticipation of being riven in that rough, adoring way that was so very Neville . He slid home and she gave a gasping moan at the feeling of being so utterly full, then rolled her hips back only to find there was a little more to take.
“Gods,” he said hoarsely, as he began to drive into her with deliberate restraint, “Thought I imagined it. Imagined how amazing your pretty little cunt felt.”
Hermione was arching and bowing as he moved through her, adjusting to the onerous stretch. The wood of the desk was biting into her hip bones but she was grateful for the discomfort, pain was the only thing staving off an over-early orgasm. Her mind was alight with a carnal relish at getting fucked over a professor’s desk, looking out over his classroom, being filled over and over again with such a deliciously large cock, listening to filthy words spill from Neville Longbottom’s lips.
His grip spanned from the small of her waist to the flare of her hips, pulling her to him, "Can't stop thinking about everything you said- how you want it. I want to fuck you through all of it, in every way that brilliant brain of yours can come up with."
Hermione was between moaning and broken pleas as he began pounding into her with abandon, bottoming out with each punishing thrust. “You take it so well. You’re so fucking good, Hermione. Can’t believe-” he leaned over, his bare chest pressing her into the desk, his hand reaching to cover hers where she clutched the desk edge. Pain blossomed in her shoulder as he sunk his teeth in, then laid kisses up her neck, “Is this how you want it?”
“Yes! Gods, yes, Nev, you’re so much, ” she whined. His other hand worked beneath her to squeeze roughly at her breast. There was nothing she could do but take it, tensing and shuddering, as her nerves grew taut with her impending orgasm. He was rasping something in her ear but her blood was pounding too loudly for her to hear it. Neville was on, around, and inside her.
She didn't know whether it was just her newfound awareness or if they had unintentionally stirred something up in the forest together, but with every thrust it felt like there was an intensifying fusion, like their magic was mingling and coursing between them.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she wailed helplessly, “Neville-”
Hermione felt all the building tension contract violently to her core and then explode outward, rolling through her in an almost agonizing surge.
“Bloody fuck, ” Neville groaned as he pushed his final thrusts through the spasming stricture of her orgasm to deliver his release hard and deep. “Hermione-” her name escaped on a shuddering breath as he collapsed over her. She hummed vaguely in contentment.
After a moment he gave himself a little shake, “Sorry, sorry, probably crushing you, you little thing. Gods, my wits have gone.”
Neville fell back into his chair, pulling her with him and settling her onto his lap. She melted into him, sweaty and utterly spent, but grateful to be wrapped up in his arms all the same.
"I think you've ruined me as a teacher," he scrubbed a hand over his face, "Whenever I'm at this desk now all I'm going to be able to think about is you sitting here, fingering yourself."
"Neville!" she protested.
"I'm serious. You're a professional liability, you are." He gave her ribs a tickle, eliciting a little screech.
"Mercy!" she curled further into him, "I'm weak and defenseless."
"Liar," he said fondly, dropping a kiss into her hair.
"It's true. Can't you feel my legs shaking?"
"I guess you're stuck then."
"Yes, it's a terrible hardship," she pointedly nuzzled into his chest.
"You know," he cleared his throat, "I'm not sure what other old school fantasies you might have, but if you don't have any plans this weekend... we'd have the entire castle pretty well to ourselves."
"Really?" she bit her lip, considering.
"Yeah, and I don't want you to think I'm trying to coerce you or something, but you would also be able to spend more time in the library."
She looked up into his hazel eyes mischievously, "With you? Because, not that I've got a proper list or anything, but-"
"Forget that I said staying was optional. It's absolutely not."
She managed to kiss him through her giggles, but it was a challenge that would persist.