mickume/harry_potter_tiny · Datasets at Hugging Face

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Hermione felt her heart flutter.
"How did your date go?"
Hermione shrugged. "It was fine," she said. "It was a date."
"Did he kiss you?"
"Only on the cheek," Hermione said, shifting uncomfortably.
"Merlin!" One of the girls said, "Can you keep it down?"
"Sorry!" Hermione said before pushing off the bed. "Sleep well, Bella. I’ll see you in the morning," she whispered before sliding into bed.
Hermione lay awake, thinking about her day and what Ginny had said that morning. She was right about Ron; he was busy with whatever he had going on with Lavender. And in truth, Hermione knew that maybe she should be annoyed that he wasn’t trying to date her instead of showing off to Lavender...but...
She wasn’t.
She’d spent so long feeling lovesick over Ron, hoping he would notice her and knowing it wouldn’t be any time soon. She’d thought about their lives together and what they would do after Hogwarts. And yet...none of those thoughts seemed to come into her mind lately.
Not since the Department of Mysteries.
Not since Bellatrix.
She’d been so busy worrying about the witch and then becoming friends with her that everything else seemed to become muted.
But she also knew that Viktor had caused that for her as well. He’d muted the world around her, and she’d stopped caring about Ron for a while, especially when he’d been so stubbornly angry about Harry.
So whatever this was, whatever she was feeling, Hermione knew it would fade. Bellatrix was an older, authoritative person who gave her attention. Even though she appeared her age, there was something else there. It was natural that she would enjoy that feeling. And just like things faded with Viktor when the shine of that attention wore off, Hermione knew that whatever she felt for Bellatrix would disappear too.
So...maybe Ginny was right in a sense. Perhaps she should date...and it wouldn’t be terrible if she did choose to date someone like Cormac instead of Bellatrix. At least until the infatuation faded away.
Except...she really wished Bellatrix would be the one to take her out on dates and kiss her.
What a disaster this was.
Slughorn had invited them to another supper. The last two attempts from Slughorn had led to Harry moving Quidditch Practice around it, which meant Hermione had attended them alone.
Well, not entirely alone. Cormac went and spent time talking to her. Slughorn would practically fawn over him, given Cormac’s family connections, but it didn’t both Hermione nearly so much. When Slughorn would move to one of the other invitees, Hermione would share a smile with him and talk about classes or things that weren’t his family.
She wasn’t sure if Cormac was like Harry in the regard of being uncomfortable with people fawning over his family, but she figured that even if he did like it, it wasn’t in her nature to care about someone else’s achievements.
When Slughorn arranged the next supper, Harry had an appointment with Dumbledore, which meant that Bellatrix and Ginny both arrived for the first time.
"You’ll like this one," Hermione said to Ginny. "Gwenog Jones is meant to be there."
Ginny had gone still at the mention, and Hermione knew that she and Ron had a poster up on their wall of her. "The Gwenog?" Ginny said. "I’m going to have to break up with Dean."
Hermione gave a short laugh. "Why? Because you think you have a chance with a Quidditch player? Isn’t she married?"
"Who cares. I’ll be her one-night stand."
"You’re a student," Hermione reminded. "Wait until you’re out of school before getting with famous quidditch players."
"Why should you get all the fun with Krum, but I can’t have one teeny kiss with Gwenog Jones?"
Bellatrix turned her head to look at Hermione with new apparent interest. "What famous quidditch players?" She asked.
Hermione shook her head. "It’s not nearly as interesting as you would think. In our fourth year, Viktor Krum attended. He went to Durmstrang..." there, she trailed off and cast Bellatrix a look, realising that technically...Bellatrix should know who Krum was. "You know...he’s the famous Seeker for Bulgaria?"
Bellatrix rolled her eyes.
Ginny gave a laugh. "Well," she said, not catching on to the awkward lie Hermione had tried to press. "Viktor came for the Triwizard Tournament and found our dear Miss Granger quite the catch."
Hermione gave an embarrassed laugh, shoving her friend away. "It wasn’t like that."
"You did snog him, though."
Well...she had. Yes, but it hadn’t gone much further than a few kisses. Hermione wasn’t some girl who’d let anyone slip underneath her bra, no matter how charming he was trying to be, and at least to Viktor’s credit, he hadn’t pushed it with her and had respected her boundaries.
At the time, Hermione had felt very grown-up kissing Viktor, but as of late, as she watched girls like Lavender and Ginny date, she was starting to feel left behind. Everyone was going off doing more sexual things. Hermione had even overheard Pavarti telling Lavender that she’d slept with someone over the Summer holidays.
"It doesn’t matter," Hermione said, fixing her clothes as they continued down the hall to Professor Slughorn’s rooms. "It wasn’t serious, and he was only two years older than me. Jones is meant to be twenty-three."
"A girl can dream," Ginny sighed.
They entered Slughorn's rooms where a few other newcomers were. Hayley Hartwell, a seventh-year Ravenclaw, offered a smile before returning to conversation with Micah Bitterworth, who was seventh-year Hufflepuff. They were both Head Girl and Boy respectably of this year, and whilst Hermione had only spoken with them briefly last year, they both had helped teach her how to mix studying in whilst doing her prefect duties (flashcards were the main answer).
It wasn’t long before Slughorn came and introduced Gwenog Jones to them. Ginny managed to come across as quite charming as she spoke about seeing Gwenog in action a year ago, noting how impressive the witch was in some particularly complicated manoeuvre that involved her hitting a bludger.
Hermione smiled politely during the conversation and watched as Ginny freely discussed her own flare for Quidditch.
Gwenog continued to detail some extravagant story about a training session that went wrong that brought the attention of nearby listens to come and step closer as Hermione discreetly left to enjoy the refreshments.
"So this Krum figure," Bellatrix said, cornering her at the table. "Do you still see him?"
Hermione swallowed her food, shifting on her feet awkwardly. "Not really. We used to be penpals, but he’s busy with Quidditch."
"Do you often go for Quidditch players?" Bellatrix asked. "Krum...McLaggen...?"
Hermione flushed. There was definitely a pattern there, given that Ron and Bellatrix were also on the list, but Hermione put that down to coincidence. "No," she assured. "I know that’s some people’s thing, but I don’t really care for Quidditch," she said, offering a shrug. "I know it’s important to you and Ginny, and I’ll always listen to you guys talk, but--"
"It’s not your thing," Bellatrix said, nodding as she leaned closer. "So what is your thing?"
Hermione squirmed, taking a step back as she feigned needing to pile another biscuit. "I like studying magic, and—"
"No, I meant with dating. What do you look for in a partner?"
The room was beginning to grow hot as she turned to face the refreshment table, shifting more stuff on her plate than she needed. "I like confidence, I suppose. Like anyone else. And...why are you asking this anyway?"
Bellatrix shrugged. "Curious as to what makes you date someone like Cormac."
"I’m not dating Cormac," she said with a hiss, checking that Cormac wasn’t listening. He wasn’t too busy giving heart eyes to Gwenog Jones, just like Ginny was. "Shouldn’t you be over there?"
"This is more interesting," Bellatrix said, taking a biscuit from Hermione’s plate. "So you kiss Cormac, you get up to something with this other Quidditch player. Tell me...what else have you done?"
Hermione squirmed at the comment. She knew Bellatrix well enough now to know that the witch was teasing her, enjoying her squirming underneath her, and whilst Hermione should be offended (and a part of her was!) she couldn’t help but find the attention flattering in a sense. "Next you’ll be asking about my habits in the shower."
"You did take an awfully long time in the prefect bathroom the other day. Did you get lost on your way back or were you busy?"
Hermione had gone from feeling hot to knowing for a fact that her face was noticeably burning up. "I don’t do that," she said sharply, before quickly turning back to the table as people turned to look at her curiously.
Bellatrix was noticeably quiet then. Carefully, Hermione peeked a look at her.
"Everyone masturbates," she said. Hermione’s jaw clenched at the work, shifting away.
"Not everyone," she said.
"But how do you know––"
"If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about something like that so publicly," she hissed, pulling away. Thankfully, Bellatrix seemed to catch the hint and left her alone for the rest of the party.
After an hour, however, Hermione noticed that Ginny was still entirely enraptured whilst listening to Gwenog go on about whatever daring feat she got up to as a beater and Hermione pulled away, informing the witch that she was leaving a little bit early.
"Sure, I’ll catch up."
"Be back before curfew," Hermione said, giving her a pointed look but Ginny shook her off.
Hermione didn’t bother to look for Hermione as she left, still cross with her about the witch asking such personal questions during such a public party; Hermione hoped no one overheard, though everyone had seemed pretty focused on the Holyhead Harpies beater.
However, she quickly wished she had made some attempt to check where Bellatrix was, because she found herself quickly pulled into the stairwell hidden behind a tapestry.
"What are you––" Hermione was cut off as Bellatrix pressed a hand to her mouth, quietening her.
"Have you really never masturbated?"
Hermione scoffed, trying to push off the witch but was quickly pressed against the wall and held still by the deceptively strong witch. "Why are you so fixated on that? Does it matter what I do?"
"Don’t you care about pleasure?" Bellatrix asked. "It’s the only thing that makes life worth living."
"That’s ridiculous," Hermione said. "You may be some hedonistic...bohemian witch," she said, borrowing a word she’d heard her father use once before. "But not everyone is like that. Frankly, I don’t think life is about pleasure. I think it’s about curiosity and being kind and living! Not trying to escape the moment in whatever pleasurable thing you find."
Bellatrix blinked at her before scowling. "So it’s better to remain frigid?"
"I’m not frigid!" Hermione snapped. "I like romance and love and care from a partner. I don’t want some quick empty shag from someone. Is that what you want?"
"Masturbating isn’t shagging yourself, you idiot."
"I am not an idiot."
"No, you’re naive. How the fuck are you going to have some great romance, love-and-care you apparently want from a partner if you don’t even know your body?" Bellatrix said. "Do you even know what you like?"
Hermione squirmed, feeling her back drag against the stones of the wall. "That’s something I can explore with a partner I trust," she said. "And it’s none of your business!"
"As your friend, is bloody well is my business," Bellatrix said firmly. "Take some private time in that lovely prefect bathroom you can access. Explore what you like and then go on a second date with Cormac."
Hermione bit her inner cheek, looking aside as she felt something twist inside her. "You think I should go on a date with him again?"
"You didn’t hate him, did you? Practically blushed when you told me he kissed your cheek...imagine how you’d feel if he actually kissed you."
Hermione felt herself shrink, looking at Bellatrix’s face. The stairwell was dim; right now they were so close, all Hermione could think was how much she wanted to press forward and kiss her.
But it was becoming rapidly clear that Bellatrix wasn’t interested. "Fine," she said.
"Fine, you’ll masturbate?" Bellatrix teased.
"Fine, I’ll go on another date," she said tightly. "Whatever I decide to do or not do," she added rapidly, "is my business."
Bellatrix shrugged, pulling back. "Suit yourself."
Hermione rustled in the sheets, pressing a hand between her thighs as she laid back in bed only to watch as the curtains pulled back.
"Did I interrupt something?" Bellatrix asked, a smile on her face as she climbed into the bed, pulling the curtains closed behind her. "Did you do it?"
"Oh, I see," she teased and Hermione watched, paralysed as Bellatrix shifted the blankets down, revealing where her hands were. "Are you lost, Hermione? Do you need a guiding hand?"
Hermione blushed, going to say no, she could do it herself and did not need the help of anyone else when Bellatrix shifted above her, moving the hands out of the way. "Be quiet for me, little mouse. Wouldn’t want anyone to wake-up, now would we?"
Hermione felt as the witch’s hand slid down over her belly, across the thatch of hair she had before slipping between her legs and––
Gasping awake, Hermione sat up, pushing the blankets off her. She was warm, too warm and right now she was panting as she felt the dream wash over her. Never, in her life had she ever had such a detailed sex dream. Usually her dreams involved Ron or Viktor kissing her, maybe slipping their hand underneath her shirt, but never had she had something so detailed.
She lay awake, feeling the emotions shiver through her as she thought back on the dream. Bellatrix’s eyes has seemed so warm, her fingers had felt real as they slipped over her, pressing between her thighs.
Hermione took a moment, taking a breath before hesitantly slipping a hand beneath the band of her pyjamas before gasping as she snatched it away.
She was...wet and while yes, she was semi-used to how her body had been changing over the last few years, she wasn’t used to that much wetness. Did the dream...did Bellatrix really have that much affect on her?
Hermione shifted, reaching to her bedside table and looking at the mechanical clock she had set there. It was early in the morning, no one would be up yet. She should get some sleep...expect she couldn’t. Her mind was reeling, going over and over the dream. Every touch, every sensation, every shivering moment...
Pushing awake, she grabbed the items from her bag and made the decision to have a shower. Except, she didn’t find herself heading the Gryffindor Girl’s shower. Her feet carried her and her toiletries out into the hall, down to the prefect’s bathroom where the door shut behind her and she was staring at the bathroom.
She wasn’t here for any reason. Especially not for any reason involving a certain dark-haired witch.
No. She was here to have a shower and wash herself clean from the sex dream.
Turning the bath on, Hermione slipped beneath the water and shifted around, getting comfortable as she sat on a ledge underneath the water. She turned the water off and began washing her arms, her legs, her torso and found herself...carefully grabbing at her breasts as she washed them.
Before, she’d never really understood all the fuss about breasts and why boys wanted to grab them so much. She had breasts and she’s grabbed them a few times just to see, but they felt like...well, breasts. They were soft and while they weren’t big like some of the other girls in her year, they weren’t non-existent either.

Hermione felt her heart flutter.

"How did your date go?"

Hermione shrugged. "It was fine," she said. "It was a date."

"Did he kiss you?"

"Only on the cheek," Hermione said, shifting uncomfortably.

"Merlin!" One of the girls said, "Can you keep it down?"

"Sorry!" Hermione said before pushing off the bed. "Sleep well, Bella. I’ll see you in the morning," she whispered before sliding into bed.

Hermione lay awake, thinking about her day and what Ginny had said that morning. She was right about Ron; he was busy with whatever he had going on with Lavender. And in truth, Hermione knew that maybe she should be annoyed that he wasn’t trying to date her instead of showing off to Lavender...but...

She wasn’t.

She’d spent so long feeling lovesick over Ron, hoping he would notice her and knowing it wouldn’t be any time soon. She’d thought about their lives together and what they would do after Hogwarts. And yet...none of those thoughts seemed to come into her mind lately.

Not since the Department of Mysteries.

Not since Bellatrix.

She’d been so busy worrying about the witch and then becoming friends with her that everything else seemed to become muted.

But she also knew that Viktor had caused that for her as well. He’d muted the world around her, and she’d stopped caring about Ron for a while, especially when he’d been so stubbornly angry about Harry.

So whatever this was, whatever she was feeling, Hermione knew it would fade. Bellatrix was an older, authoritative person who gave her attention. Even though she appeared her age, there was something else there. It was natural that she would enjoy that feeling. And just like things faded with Viktor when the shine of that attention wore off, Hermione knew that whatever she felt for Bellatrix would disappear too.

So...maybe Ginny was right in a sense. Perhaps she should date...and it wouldn’t be terrible if she did choose to date someone like Cormac instead of Bellatrix. At least until the infatuation faded away.

Except...she really wished Bellatrix would be the one to take her out on dates and kiss her.

What a disaster this was.

Slughorn had invited them to another supper. The last two attempts from Slughorn had led to Harry moving Quidditch Practice around it, which meant Hermione had attended them alone.

Well, not entirely alone. Cormac went and spent time talking to her. Slughorn would practically fawn over him, given Cormac’s family connections, but it didn’t both Hermione nearly so much. When Slughorn would move to one of the other invitees, Hermione would share a smile with him and talk about classes or things that weren’t his family.

She wasn’t sure if Cormac was like Harry in the regard of being uncomfortable with people fawning over his family, but she figured that even if he did like it, it wasn’t in her nature to care about someone else’s achievements.

When Slughorn arranged the next supper, Harry had an appointment with Dumbledore, which meant that Bellatrix and Ginny both arrived for the first time.

"You’ll like this one," Hermione said to Ginny. "Gwenog Jones is meant to be there."

Ginny had gone still at the mention, and Hermione knew that she and Ron had a poster up on their wall of her. "The Gwenog?" Ginny said. "I’m going to have to break up with Dean."

Hermione gave a short laugh. "Why? Because you think you have a chance with a Quidditch player? Isn’t she married?"

"Who cares. I’ll be her one-night stand."

"You’re a student," Hermione reminded. "Wait until you’re out of school before getting with famous quidditch players."

"Why should you get all the fun with Krum, but I can’t have one teeny kiss with Gwenog Jones?"

Bellatrix turned her head to look at Hermione with new apparent interest. "What famous quidditch players?" She asked.

Hermione shook her head. "It’s not nearly as interesting as you would think. In our fourth year, Viktor Krum attended. He went to Durmstrang..." there, she trailed off and cast Bellatrix a look, realising that technically...Bellatrix should know who Krum was. "You know...he’s the famous Seeker for Bulgaria?"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

Ginny gave a laugh. "Well," she said, not catching on to the awkward lie Hermione had tried to press. "Viktor came for the Triwizard Tournament and found our dear Miss Granger quite the catch."

Hermione gave an embarrassed laugh, shoving her friend away. "It wasn’t like that."

"You did snog him, though."

Well...she had. Yes, but it hadn’t gone much further than a few kisses. Hermione wasn’t some girl who’d let anyone slip underneath her bra, no matter how charming he was trying to be, and at least to Viktor’s credit, he hadn’t pushed it with her and had respected her boundaries.

At the time, Hermione had felt very grown-up kissing Viktor, but as of late, as she watched girls like Lavender and Ginny date, she was starting to feel left behind. Everyone was going off doing more sexual things. Hermione had even overheard Pavarti telling Lavender that she’d slept with someone over the Summer holidays.

"It doesn’t matter," Hermione said, fixing her clothes as they continued down the hall to Professor Slughorn’s rooms. "It wasn’t serious, and he was only two years older than me. Jones is meant to be twenty-three."

"A girl can dream," Ginny sighed.

They entered Slughorn's rooms where a few other newcomers were. Hayley Hartwell, a seventh-year Ravenclaw, offered a smile before returning to conversation with Micah Bitterworth, who was seventh-year Hufflepuff. They were both Head Girl and Boy respectably of this year, and whilst Hermione had only spoken with them briefly last year, they both had helped teach her how to mix studying in whilst doing her prefect duties (flashcards were the main answer).

It wasn’t long before Slughorn came and introduced Gwenog Jones to them. Ginny managed to come across as quite charming as she spoke about seeing Gwenog in action a year ago, noting how impressive the witch was in some particularly complicated manoeuvre that involved her hitting a bludger.

Hermione smiled politely during the conversation and watched as Ginny freely discussed her own flare for Quidditch.

Gwenog continued to detail some extravagant story about a training session that went wrong that brought the attention of nearby listens to come and step closer as Hermione discreetly left to enjoy the refreshments.

"So this Krum figure," Bellatrix said, cornering her at the table. "Do you still see him?"

Hermione swallowed her food, shifting on her feet awkwardly. "Not really. We used to be penpals, but he’s busy with Quidditch."

"Do you often go for Quidditch players?" Bellatrix asked. "Krum...McLaggen...?"

Hermione flushed. There was definitely a pattern there, given that Ron and Bellatrix were also on the list, but Hermione put that down to coincidence. "No," she assured. "I know that’s some people’s thing, but I don’t really care for Quidditch," she said, offering a shrug. "I know it’s important to you and Ginny, and I’ll always listen to you guys talk, but--"

"It’s not your thing," Bellatrix said, nodding as she leaned closer. "So what is your thing?"

Hermione squirmed, taking a step back as she feigned needing to pile another biscuit. "I like studying magic, and—"

"No, I meant with dating. What do you look for in a partner?"

The room was beginning to grow hot as she turned to face the refreshment table, shifting more stuff on her plate than she needed. "I like confidence, I suppose. Like anyone else. And...why are you asking this anyway?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "Curious as to what makes you date someone like Cormac."

"I’m not dating Cormac," she said with a hiss, checking that Cormac wasn’t listening. He wasn’t too busy giving heart eyes to Gwenog Jones, just like Ginny was. "Shouldn’t you be over there?"

"This is more interesting," Bellatrix said, taking a biscuit from Hermione’s plate. "So you kiss Cormac, you get up to something with this other Quidditch player. Tell me...what else have you done?"

Hermione squirmed at the comment. She knew Bellatrix well enough now to know that the witch was teasing her, enjoying her squirming underneath her, and whilst Hermione should be offended (and a part of her was!) she couldn’t help but find the attention flattering in a sense. "Next you’ll be asking about my habits in the shower."

"You did take an awfully long time in the prefect bathroom the other day. Did you get lost on your way back or were you busy?"

Hermione had gone from feeling hot to knowing for a fact that her face was noticeably burning up. "I don’t do that," she said sharply, before quickly turning back to the table as people turned to look at her curiously.

Bellatrix was noticeably quiet then. Carefully, Hermione peeked a look at her.

"Everyone masturbates," she said. Hermione’s jaw clenched at the work, shifting away.

"Not everyone," she said.

"But how do you know––"

"If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about something like that so publicly," she hissed, pulling away. Thankfully, Bellatrix seemed to catch the hint and left her alone for the rest of the party.

After an hour, however, Hermione noticed that Ginny was still entirely enraptured whilst listening to Gwenog go on about whatever daring feat she got up to as a beater and Hermione pulled away, informing the witch that she was leaving a little bit early.

"Sure, I’ll catch up."

"Be back before curfew," Hermione said, giving her a pointed look but Ginny shook her off.

Hermione didn’t bother to look for Hermione as she left, still cross with her about the witch asking such personal questions during such a public party; Hermione hoped no one overheard, though everyone had seemed pretty focused on the Holyhead Harpies beater.

However, she quickly wished she had made some attempt to check where Bellatrix was, because she found herself quickly pulled into the stairwell hidden behind a tapestry.

"What are you––" Hermione was cut off as Bellatrix pressed a hand to her mouth, quietening her.

"Have you really never masturbated?"

Hermione scoffed, trying to push off the witch but was quickly pressed against the wall and held still by the deceptively strong witch. "Why are you so fixated on that? Does it matter what I do?"

"Don’t you care about pleasure?" Bellatrix asked. "It’s the only thing that makes life worth living."

"That’s ridiculous," Hermione said. "You may be some hedonistic...bohemian witch," she said, borrowing a word she’d heard her father use once before. "But not everyone is like that. Frankly, I don’t think life is about pleasure. I think it’s about curiosity and being kind and living! Not trying to escape the moment in whatever pleasurable thing you find."

Bellatrix blinked at her before scowling. "So it’s better to remain frigid?"

"I’m not frigid!" Hermione snapped. "I like romance and love and care from a partner. I don’t want some quick empty shag from someone. Is that what you want?"

"Masturbating isn’t shagging yourself, you idiot."

"I am not an idiot."

"No, you’re naive. How the fuck are you going to have some great romance, love-and-care you apparently want from a partner if you don’t even know your body?" Bellatrix said. "Do you even know what you like?"

Hermione squirmed, feeling her back drag against the stones of the wall. "That’s something I can explore with a partner I trust," she said. "And it’s none of your business!"

"As your friend, is bloody well is my business," Bellatrix said firmly. "Take some private time in that lovely prefect bathroom you can access. Explore what you like and then go on a second date with Cormac."

Hermione bit her inner cheek, looking aside as she felt something twist inside her. "You think I should go on a date with him again?"

"You didn’t hate him, did you? Practically blushed when you told me he kissed your cheek...imagine how you’d feel if he actually kissed you."

Hermione felt herself shrink, looking at Bellatrix’s face. The stairwell was dim; right now they were so close, all Hermione could think was how much she wanted to press forward and kiss her.

But it was becoming rapidly clear that Bellatrix wasn’t interested. "Fine," she said.

"Fine, you’ll masturbate?" Bellatrix teased.

"Fine, I’ll go on another date," she said tightly. "Whatever I decide to do or not do," she added rapidly, "is my business."

Bellatrix shrugged, pulling back. "Suit yourself."

Hermione rustled in the sheets, pressing a hand between her thighs as she laid back in bed only to watch as the curtains pulled back.

"Did I interrupt something?" Bellatrix asked, a smile on her face as she climbed into the bed, pulling the curtains closed behind her. "Did you do it?"

"Oh, I see," she teased and Hermione watched, paralysed as Bellatrix shifted the blankets down, revealing where her hands were. "Are you lost, Hermione? Do you need a guiding hand?"

Hermione blushed, going to say no, she could do it herself and did not need the help of anyone else when Bellatrix shifted above her, moving the hands out of the way. "Be quiet for me, little mouse. Wouldn’t want anyone to wake-up, now would we?"

Hermione felt as the witch’s hand slid down over her belly, across the thatch of hair she had before slipping between her legs and––

Gasping awake, Hermione sat up, pushing the blankets off her. She was warm, too warm and right now she was panting as she felt the dream wash over her. Never, in her life had she ever had such a detailed sex dream. Usually her dreams involved Ron or Viktor kissing her, maybe slipping their hand underneath her shirt, but never had she had something so detailed.

She lay awake, feeling the emotions shiver through her as she thought back on the dream. Bellatrix’s eyes has seemed so warm, her fingers had felt real as they slipped over her, pressing between her thighs.

Hermione took a moment, taking a breath before hesitantly slipping a hand beneath the band of her pyjamas before gasping as she snatched it away.

She was...wet and while yes, she was semi-used to how her body had been changing over the last few years, she wasn’t used to that much wetness. Did the dream...did Bellatrix really have that much affect on her?

Hermione shifted, reaching to her bedside table and looking at the mechanical clock she had set there. It was early in the morning, no one would be up yet. She should get some sleep...expect she couldn’t. Her mind was reeling, going over and over the dream. Every touch, every sensation, every shivering moment...

Pushing awake, she grabbed the items from her bag and made the decision to have a shower. Except, she didn’t find herself heading the Gryffindor Girl’s shower. Her feet carried her and her toiletries out into the hall, down to the prefect’s bathroom where the door shut behind her and she was staring at the bathroom.

She wasn’t here for any reason. Especially not for any reason involving a certain dark-haired witch.

No. She was here to have a shower and wash herself clean from the sex dream.

Turning the bath on, Hermione slipped beneath the water and shifted around, getting comfortable as she sat on a ledge underneath the water. She turned the water off and began washing her arms, her legs, her torso and found herself...carefully grabbing at her breasts as she washed them.

Before, she’d never really understood all the fuss about breasts and why boys wanted to grab them so much. She had breasts and she’s grabbed them a few times just to see, but they felt like...well, breasts. They were soft and while they weren’t big like some of the other girls in her year, they weren’t non-existent either.