November 21st
“I think we should hurry to get to the Shrieking Shack.”
Harry, realizing Hermione was right, extended his cloak to hide her along with himself and set off towards their destination. Sirius had written to him that he would try to visit at eight, and if he couldn’t make it, they would meet at one in the morning by the common room fireplace.
“Be patient.”
“Patience is the last thing I have left, Hermione.”
Harry was tired and frustrated. Thirty minutes had passed since they arrived, and Sirius had yet to show any signs of life. He paced back and forth, fists clenched and jaw tense.
“If he doesn’t show up by nine, we’re leaving.”
Hermione nodded and sat on the bed. She wanted to read, but she was too anxious and unsettled by Harry’s foul mood to concentrate, so she simply stayed silent, watching him pace around the room.
When nine o’clock came, she said nothing. She didn’t want to upset him more than he already was, and he clearly realized the time when he kicked a chair, sending it flying to the other side of the room with a loud thud. Hermione jumped, startled by the noise. Harry ran his hands over his face and sighed.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She nodded and took that as permission to approach him.
“I’m sorry, I know you wanted to see him.”
Her friend looked away and sighed. Hermione gently stroked his face, making him look at her, offering a warm smile to comfort him.
“Let’s go back to Hogwarts. He might still arrive at one, just like he said.”
Harry nodded, but instead of moving, he kept staring at her. Frustration still burned inside him, mixed with something else he didn’t fully understand. His chest rose and fell heavily, his breathing still erratic from anger and disappointment. Then, driven by the suffocating emotions within him, he kissed her.
Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t know how to react. It was the first time anyone had kissed her, and her body tensed immediately. What was she supposed to do now? She didn’t want to hurt Harry’s feelings, but she also wasn’t sure if she wanted this kiss or not.
He noticed she wasn’t responding and hesitated. Was she waiting for him to do something else? What was he supposed to do? Nervousness started creeping in—he had messed up, and now he had two options: look like an idiot or look like a fool. He didn’t want Hermione to feel undesired or used by him, and at the same time, his anger was throwing all his inhibitions away. Taking a risk, he lowered his hands to her waist, pulling her against him, insisting on the clumsy, desperate kiss. She didn’t resist, letting him take the lead, still bewildered and unsure whether to stop him or not.
Harry took that as a sign to continue. Moving slowly, he guided Hermione backward until the edge of the bed halted their movement. She let out a small sound of surprise upon feeling the mattress press against the back of her thighs, but that wasn’t all. A faint touch on her leg indicated another firm presence she couldn’t ignore.
He noticed immediately, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. He pulled away slightly, diverting his gaze to the floor, as Hermione’s chest was still pressed against his. He couldn’t be more tense.
“It’s okay, it’s normal,” she murmured, trying to sound mature and confident—anything but nervous or scared about what was happening.
Harry felt dizzy and lightheaded. His mind was a whirlwind of confusing thoughts; he couldn’t control his body. He could see the curve of Hermione’s chest pressed against his shirt; he had never stopped to look at her that way, especially not this close.
Hermione watched him in silence, and his expression saddened her—not just because he looked lost, but because she herself still didn’t know what to do, or how she felt. She gently took Harry’s hand, wanting to comfort him, and kissed him back with tenderness rather than passion or romance, following her protective instincts and her need to offer warmth.
He received the kiss, unsure of how to proceed. Now he was the one who was confused. He felt nervous and scared, but he hated feeling that way. He had started all of this, so he had to be the one to finish it. After all, she had moaned... that meant she liked it, right?
Suddenly, he remembered how angry he had been. He hated feeling like a child among the champions, despised being the youngest of the group. He had gone through things no other student his age could understand, yet the Goblet of Fire had chosen him as an equal. That meant he was a man, didn’t it?
With that thought burning inside him, he took off his jacket and threw it to the floor without thinking twice.
Hermione felt herself lose balance and fall backward onto the bed. With no other option, Harry fell on top of her. And then she felt it more clearly: the pressure, the heat of his body, the bulge in his pants. A shiver ran down her spine, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Nervousness and discomfort overwhelmed her, but on the other hand, she was beginning to feel something new inside her—a sensation she had never experienced before.
He held her by the hips, and she gasped in surprise. Harry wasn’t sure whether to continue or not, but as far as he could tell, she wasn’t uncomfortable, and he didn’t want to disappoint her. He wasn’t sure what to do next, but he knew one thing: it felt good to be pressed against her, and maybe it would feel even better if he could be a little closer... He slid his hands firmly and parted Hermione’s legs just slightly, trying to get more comfortable, placing one knee between her thighs and the other beside her leg, on the bed.
The girl with unruly hair didn’t know where to hide. Everything was happening too fast, and for the first time, her mind was failing her—she couldn’t keep up. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do, and she didn’t want to disappoint Harry. The only thing she knew for certain was that breathing was becoming more difficult, and the heat was overwhelming her, so she unzipped her jacket, seeking some relief.
Harry was taken aback by her movement. His breathing grew heavier as he felt her hand brush over the zipper of his pants. Did she want to...? Not wanting to look like a child in front of her, he unbuttoned them.
She didn’t notice, too focused on trying to loosen her belt, which was painfully digging into her skin due to Harry’s weight on top of her.
Harry thought Hermione was moving forward, leaving him with little choice but to match her pace. His heart pounded, his mind was in chaos, but he didn’t want to fall behind. Clumsily, he positioned her beneath him, holding her by the hips. He hesitated for a second, his face turning even redder—if that was possible. He had never touched a woman’s underwear before, much less while she was wearing it.
Hermione blushed as she felt Harry’s hands on her hips. The direct contact with her skin took her by surprise. Without meaning to, she let out a small moan when he moved, accidentally touching a particularly sensitive spot through the fabric. The sensation was pleasant, and that only added to her confusion.
He gained confidence upon hearing her, believing he was doing the right thing, and without thinking, following his instincts and the strength he felt in that moment, he began to pull down her pants. Hermione was shocked and immediately put her hands between them, trying to create distance, but he thought she liked it, and with that certainty, he finished removing them.
Then, he looked up.
Hermione stared at him with wide eyes. Her face was pale, but her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She bit her lip nervously, and when she saw Harry lowering his boxers to position himself, she covered her eyes with both hands, grounding herself back in reality.
She couldn’t believe she had gotten so carried away by hormones that she was now about to lose her virginity to him. How had they escalated so quickly? She couldn’t find the words to tell him to stop...but she wasn’t sure she wanted to stop him either.
She was deeply ashamed of the idea of wanting him. They weren’t in love, were they? They weren’t even dating, but her body felt...so good.
It was at that moment that Harry came out of his trance a little and remembered that beneath him there was much more than a body and a nice feeling, there was a person, a human being, and not just any human being: it was Hermione.
