[HP Spring Fling 2011] Unrestrained - A gift for bk03
Title: Unrestrained
Author: quilter_reader
Written for: bk03
Pairing:Harry/Hermione
Rating: R
Word Count: 3332
Warnings: Limes leading to Lemons
Summary: Never trust a Slytherin, it may lead you right into the arms of a Gryffindor.
Author's Notes: Dear bk03, while I am certain some things are not what you had envisioned I hope that what this became will please you. Though I think the rating only comes to an R, I did my best.
All characters belong to JK Rowling and I make no money from the writing or publishing of this story.
In the years following the end of the war, everyone had been busy - some with their education, some with training and getting jobs, and some with marrying and starting families. However, some were so filled with bitterness and despair that they were not able to move on with their lives. Such was the fate of some members of the Weasley family.
Molly, the matriarch, had always seemed to be the leading, driving force of that family, and that sentiment was made clearer after the war. She’d never healed after losing Fred, and the more time that past after the war, the more she seemed to blame Harry Potter, irrationally of course. However, having lost her brothers in the first war and a son in the second, Mrs. Weasley pulled in and became as bad as the Purebloods on the other side - 'Protectionism first', No outsiders - meaning if a person had not been raised in the Wizarding world, or were not from an established family, he or she were no longer to be trusted. Her reasoning? A person could not understand the ways of the Wizarding world, if they had not been raised in it.
Therefore, Ron, who vulnerable to his mother’s influence, left Hermione, because she always said things such as, “everyone lost someone in the war” or “we need to move on”. He and his mother grew bitter at such sentiments, hearing instead, "Get over it, it was no big deal, and be happy you only lost one family member.”
Harry had let Ginny go as well. He found her cheating on him too many times with those she, “To whom she found more suitable". They all 'just happened' to be Purebloods as well. He figured that it was 'goodbye to rubbish'. Not that it had not hurt, but after the first time, his heart had grown hard towards her and her actions.
His true passion, his unrequited love as it were, Hermione, was beating herself up over the break up. He had a plan. Neville Longbottom and Greg Goyle had joined forces and opened a pub/club called 'The Flying Unicorn', and it was quite successful. In fact, one had to book months in ADVANCE, if they wanted admitted.
However, there were a few that only had to call and talk to Neville or Greg to get in without a reservation first. It turned out that they decided those who had showed them kindness, or at least tolerance at school would always be allowed to come. The only caveat was that they call ahead so they wards could be adjusted, to help keep the peace.
It had become a favorite hang out of many people from their year. Harry called Neville and asked, “Would you call Hermione and ask her to come down on Friday, since she’s yet to come to your place. Drop a hint that you heard I was going and maybe she could call me to escort her if she wanted company.” He had then thanked him and hung up. He had plans to put into motion. She would know of his love before the night was over. There would be no doubt in her mind. If he got lucky as well, that was more than he could hope for at this point.
Hermione received the call from Neville, and she had gladly accepted. She decided, along with some heavy prompting from Harry, that she had mourned the loss of her 'first love' long enough.
To prepare for tonight, she went shopping and found the perfect outfit. It looked demure and respectful at first glance, but it made her feel wonderful. Splurging even more, she bought a new bra and knickers for the occasion. The dress was a knit, wraparound dress, which would hug every curve. It had a deep neckline and tied at the side. She knew she’d have to be careful or she would give the world a peek at her under things as the skirt only overlapped by a bit. In truth, that part added to her feeling sexy.
She paired it with a pair of thigh high stockings and a pair of kitten heel pumps. The necklace she chose had a pendant on it and it hung just to the very edge of the neckline, drawing attention to the low-cut of the bodice. Thankfully, the new bra she purchased was a plunge bra, or she’d have had to go with out one.
Placing her wand into her clutch purse, she was ready to go when Harry arrived. From the heated look he gave, her the choice was a good one. They had opted to walk to the club, as it was a short distance away. As they approached the building, a gust of wind parted her dress and allowed Harry to see her thigh highs stockings. That was a weakness of his - women in stockings. He was instantly uncomfortable. This would make for a very interesting night.
After they arrived at the club, they were seated, and he thought again about the wind and her dress and stockings and he began to thank whatever deity had created it. He could almost convince himself that he had seen a bit of lace as well. If he had thought himself uncomfortably aroused before, now he would be reminded all dinner long.
Dinner was wonderful. Who would have ever thought that Neville and Greg would have come to a consensus on anything? The entrée had been perfect and the atmosphere more than pleasant. The beautiful candles on the tables, and the low lighting, gave the eating area the perfect ambiance. After eating, they decide to visit the club area downstairs.
They went to the lower level, with Neville riding in the lift with them. Harry groaned inward, because he wanted to be alone with her. Taking her in a lift was a secret fantasy of his, but it would be next to impossible to do with Neville around, asking if everything was to their liking, or could he do anything else for them. Hermione assured him that it had indeed been everything and more than she had expected. Harry simply nodded.
“Good. I hope the rest of the evening stays on course for you.” And with that, Neville exited the lift as soon as the doors opened.
“That was certainly cryptic,” Hermione muttered as they walked into the club area.
Neville had gone straight to the bar and called Greg over, “Hermione needs one of our House Specials as her drink for tonight.” Greg smiled and began pulling things to the counter top. They had perfected a drink that tasted good, gave the drinker a buzz that kept them happy, but also kept them aware. What most did not figure out was that it also lowered inhibitions. The drinker couldn’t be forced to do anything that they did not want to. In fact, what it did was allow the drinker to do what was in their heart, or what they wanted to - their true heart’s desire.
When Draco Malfoy first consumed the drink, he had asked for a microphone, a stool and a guitar, he had then sung the rest of the night, captivating the audience with his voice, his musical abilities and songs from the heart.
Neville and Greg had a side bet on what Hermione would do. Greg had admitted at first he thought that Hermione would get on stage and recite 'Hogwart's a History' and give an itemized breakdown of where the latest edition was incorrect. Neville raised his eyebrows and shook his head just once, but kept silent. He wouldn’t say exactly what he thought, and that had Greg intrigued to see just what the rest of the school had missed by so harshly judging Hermione all those years ago.
The more other witches and wizard that used the drink, the more Greg anticipated Hermione coming to the club. He didn’t know what he was anticipating, but he knew that after every act by others, Neville simply would raise those eyebrows and shake his head, just one shake. Apparently, Neville didn’t expect things like that from Hermione, but then what did he expect?
After only a short time, the place was crowded, including the downstairs club area. Hermione downed her drink Neville made for her, and then asked for a glass of water. She was enjoying the buzz that she had, but also knew that she was not completely drunk. The music was good for dancing and she began to dance where they were standing.
An announcement was made shortly after she began dancing that a new entertainment fad was going to be tried that very night. Then suddenly, a small stage appeared, and in the middle of that stage was a pole…the kind of pole that would be seen in a strip club. Though this was not such an establishment, it caused a frenzy of excitement to race through the crowd.
Neville jumped on the stage, and using a portable voice magnifier to get everyone's attention, said, “We have been throwing around ideas on how to keep things interesting. One idea was a Karaoke night. You all took well to that and every Monday night is now Karaoke night.
Some of you are wonderful comedians, some of you sing and play instruments, some write touching and lovely poetry, so another idea was brought up…Open-Mic night. You all responded well to that, too. Therefore, we have Tuesday nights as Open-Mic.”
“Once a month Family Nights have table games and card games. Children are welcome and these nights are well attended.”
Someone from the crowd interrupt Neville’s speech by calling out, “How far out is Family Night booked?” Neville admitted that they were booked solid for the next three months.
Then, someone else chimed in, “So what now?”
“I am glad you asked,” Neville continued. “Tonight we’re going to try Open Poles.” He paused for effect. “There are professional dancers in the back and a rack of costumes. Anyone wanting to take a turn at the pole has the option of talking to one of the professionals for tips and tricks, as well as choosing a costume, whether to hide your identity or enhance it, that choice is yours. If you’re wondering how you get up here, well, just go to the bar and we’ll give you the details.”
Hermione was all a flutter. “Harry, I want to do that. Will you come on stage with me if I call to you?”
“Uh, sure, but you know me, rhythm and I aren’t on the same page.”
“Oh, you won’t need to dance; I’ll use you for my dance.” With that said, Hermione made her way to the bar and got her instructions, the directions to the back stage area, and the names of the dancers back stage. Greg handed her another smaller drink and she drank it down in one go. “Thanks”, she said and winked at him.
He would have dropped his mouth open if Neville had not slapped him on the back at that moment and said, “Take a seat Greg. You’ll not have legs to stand on if you don't”.
Hermione talked with the dancers behind stage, and then chose a costume that left little to the imagination. In fact, anyone looking at her knew she was ready and looking for a good shag tonight. She chosen a strapless bra top, and a g-string, but opted to keep on her own thigh highs. For shoes, she chose a pair of sky-high heels that the dancers had shown her how to place against the pole, which would allow the dancer, in this case Hermione, to anchor herself to the pole, so she could move all sorts of ways, without fear of falling.
Feeling she was ready, she stepped up to the back of the stage area and allowed the beat of the music to enter her. When the beat was stronger than her own heartbeat, she walked out on stage. The crowd was stunned to silence. She began to dance, and the crowd was enthralled. She moved so seductively.
After a complete song of gyrations, she stepped to the edge of the stage and asked someone to join her. There were several who attempted to jump on stage, but Harry was the only one that she allowed. She talked to him for a moment, and then he placed his hands above his head grabbing hold of the pole. She then began another seductive turn, and continued to dance. Only now, she was using Harry as part of the pole.
He’d never experienced anything like this before. Oh, he had heard from others that women rubbed up against them like a cat in heat, but he had never had that happen. He was ready to burst when she began grinding into him, her leg wrapped around him and the dancer heel hooked to the pole.
Leaning towards the crowd, she noticed Draco was in the front row. She bends over backwards, touching the stage with her hands to help support herself, her breasts straining with the gravitational pull, and she popped right out of her bra cups.
They whole time she watched Draco's eyes. They popped, and then burned with lust; he was twitching and trying to be discrete while adjusting himself. He was obviously filled with desire. She was just close enough to the stage’s edge to pull him in for a kiss.
Harry stared at her crotch, from this angle, he could see how wet she was, and how wet she was making him. The g-string held nothing in. It allowed him a vision of her nether lips, of which he’d only ever dreamed. They were puffy and beautiful. They mesmerised him, oh if only he could touch her, lick her, taste her. He stopped that line of thought, as he was getting too hard. He knew he’d come just from the thoughts he was having, and her constant grinding against him.
The crowd went quiet and then loud, so Harry looked up in time to see why. It was because she was kissing Draco Malfoy, upside down, ala the American movie Spiderman, and its famous ‘upside down kiss’. When she broke the kiss, she whispered to Draco, telling him to make sure and go home to his wife, she would surely appreciate his attention and help him to relieve his predicament. She winked at him and he was stunned. When had Granger become a seductress?
Harry was feeling defeated until she pushed off with her hands and slammed herself up against him. Looking into his eyes, she saw the same lust in them that she knew was in her own eyes. Reaching around, she unhooked her shoe from the pole and asked, “Harry do you want me?”
He was dumbfounded and could only nod. She winked and sensually unwrapped her leg from him and turned around, still touching him. Facing the crowd, she ran her hands over her now exposed breasts. Tweaking her nipples, she thrust them out for the crowd to see and then she bid them good night. “See you all another time, I promise.” She pushed back into Harry and then they walked off the stage.
Once in the back, he put his hand on her breast and she moaned, ripped off the bra and leaned into his hand. She pulled him into the dressing room and began kissing him, as she was trying to undress him. She was standing there in the g-string, thigh highs and heels. She freed his erection and gutturally whispered, “Drive it home Harry, I need it now.” He needed no further encouragement. Slipping the g-string to the side, sliding home was all that he was interested in doing - a great number of times tonight if his body could keep up. He supposed if he needed a break, that he could always entertain her with his tongue. That gave him several more ideas, as he was stroking her to a frenzy. She shattered and he followed within a stroke or two. He allowed her legs to straighten and her feet to hit the floor.
He said, “We need to go. There’s so much I want to do with you, and to you, but this place is not where I want to be when next you scream my name.”
She nodded and made to pick up her own clothing. He didn’t let her go. “No, I don't think you need those. I like you in just what you have on, or don't have on.” As he pulled out of her, he did a quick cleansing spell on them, and then he got an awful grin, as near a smirk as she’d ever witnessed on his face.
“What are you thinking? I half want to know and I’m half afraid to know,” she squeaked out, watching him put himself back together.
“Leave their shoes here and lets cover you a little, we don't need you picked up for solicitation.” Picking up her own knickers he continued, “Here are your own knickers, they’ll do nicely.” They were a new pair of lacy ones called cheekies, so her bum hung out the bottom side of the knickers. She still had on the thigh highs; he allowed her to put her bra on but nipped out the cup where her nipples were so they poked through the cup. He placed the wrap dress on her but did not fasten it.
“We’re going to walk out through the door and through the crowd; they’re going to get a good look at how hot you are. You’re going to know that every woman there wants to be you, and they’ll go home to get shagged by their man. Then every man out there is going to wish it were he taking you home to shag. You’re going to be the image in everyone's mind as they are being shagged tonight.”
She shuddered at the thought, completely turned on again. Harry misunderstood the shudder and back peddled from the idea.
“If you don’t want to, we can secure your dress and still go with just your nipples poking through, but if you really want to give them something to imagine, and dream about, let’s go with the show.”
She thought for a moment. It would be slightly embarrassing, but empowering as well. Everyone here lived by the motto that hung above the door - ‘What happens within these walls, stays with in these walls' - so she knew that no pictures would be taken and leaked to the Prophet.
Neville had asked for a permit for special wards prohibiting such, and once you crossed the wards you could remember what happened but you couldn’t tell someone who had not been there to witness what you were talking about. When you were talking about anything, if someone were to overhear, but had not been there, they would not be able to repeat what they heard. It simply would not stick in their memory long enough to repeat.
For that reason, she opted for the open dress with held her chin up high, and marched through the crowd, with Harry glowering at anyone who tried to touch her. Making their way through the crowd to the bar, she wanted to thank both Neville and Greg for a wonderful evening. The expressions in their eyes was enough to let her know she’d done the right thing. The pure appreciation that poured from them was a very empowering.
When she reached the doors she gathered her dress about her, secured it, and then she and Harry departed as if they had just left after having a wonderful dinner out.
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Author: quilter_reader
Written for: bk03
Pairing:Harry/Hermione
Rating: R
Word Count: 3332
Warnings: Limes leading to Lemons
Summary: Never trust a Slytherin, it may lead you right into the arms of a Gryffindor.
Author's Notes: Dear bk03, while I am certain some things are not what you had envisioned I hope that what this became will please you. Though I think the rating only comes to an R, I did my best.
All characters belong to JK Rowling and I make no money from the writing or publishing of this story.
In the years following the end of the war, everyone had been busy - some with their education, some with training and getting jobs, and some with marrying and starting families. However, some were so filled with bitterness and despair that they were not able to move on with their lives. Such was the fate of some members of the Weasley family.
Molly, the matriarch, had always seemed to be the leading, driving force of that family, and that sentiment was made clearer after the war. She’d never healed after losing Fred, and the more time that past after the war, the more she seemed to blame Harry Potter, irrationally of course. However, having lost her brothers in the first war and a son in the second, Mrs. Weasley pulled in and became as bad as the Purebloods on the other side - 'Protectionism first', No outsiders - meaning if a person had not been raised in the Wizarding world, or were not from an established family, he or she were no longer to be trusted. Her reasoning? A person could not understand the ways of the Wizarding world, if they had not been raised in it.
Therefore, Ron, who vulnerable to his mother’s influence, left Hermione, because she always said things such as, “everyone lost someone in the war” or “we need to move on”. He and his mother grew bitter at such sentiments, hearing instead, "Get over it, it was no big deal, and be happy you only lost one family member.”
Harry had let Ginny go as well. He found her cheating on him too many times with those she, “To whom she found more suitable". They all 'just happened' to be Purebloods as well. He figured that it was 'goodbye to rubbish'. Not that it had not hurt, but after the first time, his heart had grown hard towards her and her actions.
His true passion, his unrequited love as it were, Hermione, was beating herself up over the break up. He had a plan. Neville Longbottom and Greg Goyle had joined forces and opened a pub/club called 'The Flying Unicorn', and it was quite successful. In fact, one had to book months in ADVANCE, if they wanted admitted.
However, there were a few that only had to call and talk to Neville or Greg to get in without a reservation first. It turned out that they decided those who had showed them kindness, or at least tolerance at school would always be allowed to come. The only caveat was that they call ahead so they wards could be adjusted, to help keep the peace.
It had become a favorite hang out of many people from their year. Harry called Neville and asked, “Would you call Hermione and ask her to come down on Friday, since she’s yet to come to your place. Drop a hint that you heard I was going and maybe she could call me to escort her if she wanted company.” He had then thanked him and hung up. He had plans to put into motion. She would know of his love before the night was over. There would be no doubt in her mind. If he got lucky as well, that was more than he could hope for at this point.
Hermione received the call from Neville, and she had gladly accepted. She decided, along with some heavy prompting from Harry, that she had mourned the loss of her 'first love' long enough.
To prepare for tonight, she went shopping and found the perfect outfit. It looked demure and respectful at first glance, but it made her feel wonderful. Splurging even more, she bought a new bra and knickers for the occasion. The dress was a knit, wraparound dress, which would hug every curve. It had a deep neckline and tied at the side. She knew she’d have to be careful or she would give the world a peek at her under things as the skirt only overlapped by a bit. In truth, that part added to her feeling sexy.
She paired it with a pair of thigh high stockings and a pair of kitten heel pumps. The necklace she chose had a pendant on it and it hung just to the very edge of the neckline, drawing attention to the low-cut of the bodice. Thankfully, the new bra she purchased was a plunge bra, or she’d have had to go with out one.
Placing her wand into her clutch purse, she was ready to go when Harry arrived. From the heated look he gave, her the choice was a good one. They had opted to walk to the club, as it was a short distance away. As they approached the building, a gust of wind parted her dress and allowed Harry to see her thigh highs stockings. That was a weakness of his - women in stockings. He was instantly uncomfortable. This would make for a very interesting night.
After they arrived at the club, they were seated, and he thought again about the wind and her dress and stockings and he began to thank whatever deity had created it. He could almost convince himself that he had seen a bit of lace as well. If he had thought himself uncomfortably aroused before, now he would be reminded all dinner long.
Dinner was wonderful. Who would have ever thought that Neville and Greg would have come to a consensus on anything? The entrée had been perfect and the atmosphere more than pleasant. The beautiful candles on the tables, and the low lighting, gave the eating area the perfect ambiance. After eating, they decide to visit the club area downstairs.
They went to the lower level, with Neville riding in the lift with them. Harry groaned inward, because he wanted to be alone with her. Taking her in a lift was a secret fantasy of his, but it would be next to impossible to do with Neville around, asking if everything was to their liking, or could he do anything else for them. Hermione assured him that it had indeed been everything and more than she had expected. Harry simply nodded.
“Good. I hope the rest of the evening stays on course for you.” And with that, Neville exited the lift as soon as the doors opened.
“That was certainly cryptic,” Hermione muttered as they walked into the club area.
Neville had gone straight to the bar and called Greg over, “Hermione needs one of our House Specials as her drink for tonight.” Greg smiled and began pulling things to the counter top. They had perfected a drink that tasted good, gave the drinker a buzz that kept them happy, but also kept them aware. What most did not figure out was that it also lowered inhibitions. The drinker couldn’t be forced to do anything that they did not want to. In fact, what it did was allow the drinker to do what was in their heart, or what they wanted to - their true heart’s desire.
When Draco Malfoy first consumed the drink, he had asked for a microphone, a stool and a guitar, he had then sung the rest of the night, captivating the audience with his voice, his musical abilities and songs from the heart.
Neville and Greg had a side bet on what Hermione would do. Greg had admitted at first he thought that Hermione would get on stage and recite 'Hogwart's a History' and give an itemized breakdown of where the latest edition was incorrect. Neville raised his eyebrows and shook his head just once, but kept silent. He wouldn’t say exactly what he thought, and that had Greg intrigued to see just what the rest of the school had missed by so harshly judging Hermione all those years ago.
The more other witches and wizard that used the drink, the more Greg anticipated Hermione coming to the club. He didn’t know what he was anticipating, but he knew that after every act by others, Neville simply would raise those eyebrows and shake his head, just one shake. Apparently, Neville didn’t expect things like that from Hermione, but then what did he expect?
After only a short time, the place was crowded, including the downstairs club area. Hermione downed her drink Neville made for her, and then asked for a glass of water. She was enjoying the buzz that she had, but also knew that she was not completely drunk. The music was good for dancing and she began to dance where they were standing.
An announcement was made shortly after she began dancing that a new entertainment fad was going to be tried that very night. Then suddenly, a small stage appeared, and in the middle of that stage was a pole…the kind of pole that would be seen in a strip club. Though this was not such an establishment, it caused a frenzy of excitement to race through the crowd.
Neville jumped on the stage, and using a portable voice magnifier to get everyone's attention, said, “We have been throwing around ideas on how to keep things interesting. One idea was a Karaoke night. You all took well to that and every Monday night is now Karaoke night.
Some of you are wonderful comedians, some of you sing and play instruments, some write touching and lovely poetry, so another idea was brought up…Open-Mic night. You all responded well to that, too. Therefore, we have Tuesday nights as Open-Mic.”
“Once a month Family Nights have table games and card games. Children are welcome and these nights are well attended.”
Someone from the crowd interrupt Neville’s speech by calling out, “How far out is Family Night booked?” Neville admitted that they were booked solid for the next three months.
Then, someone else chimed in, “So what now?”
“I am glad you asked,” Neville continued. “Tonight we’re going to try Open Poles.” He paused for effect. “There are professional dancers in the back and a rack of costumes. Anyone wanting to take a turn at the pole has the option of talking to one of the professionals for tips and tricks, as well as choosing a costume, whether to hide your identity or enhance it, that choice is yours. If you’re wondering how you get up here, well, just go to the bar and we’ll give you the details.”
Hermione was all a flutter. “Harry, I want to do that. Will you come on stage with me if I call to you?”
“Uh, sure, but you know me, rhythm and I aren’t on the same page.”
“Oh, you won’t need to dance; I’ll use you for my dance.” With that said, Hermione made her way to the bar and got her instructions, the directions to the back stage area, and the names of the dancers back stage. Greg handed her another smaller drink and she drank it down in one go. “Thanks”, she said and winked at him.
He would have dropped his mouth open if Neville had not slapped him on the back at that moment and said, “Take a seat Greg. You’ll not have legs to stand on if you don't”.
Hermione talked with the dancers behind stage, and then chose a costume that left little to the imagination. In fact, anyone looking at her knew she was ready and looking for a good shag tonight. She chosen a strapless bra top, and a g-string, but opted to keep on her own thigh highs. For shoes, she chose a pair of sky-high heels that the dancers had shown her how to place against the pole, which would allow the dancer, in this case Hermione, to anchor herself to the pole, so she could move all sorts of ways, without fear of falling.
Feeling she was ready, she stepped up to the back of the stage area and allowed the beat of the music to enter her. When the beat was stronger than her own heartbeat, she walked out on stage. The crowd was stunned to silence. She began to dance, and the crowd was enthralled. She moved so seductively.
After a complete song of gyrations, she stepped to the edge of the stage and asked someone to join her. There were several who attempted to jump on stage, but Harry was the only one that she allowed. She talked to him for a moment, and then he placed his hands above his head grabbing hold of the pole. She then began another seductive turn, and continued to dance. Only now, she was using Harry as part of the pole.
He’d never experienced anything like this before. Oh, he had heard from others that women rubbed up against them like a cat in heat, but he had never had that happen. He was ready to burst when she began grinding into him, her leg wrapped around him and the dancer heel hooked to the pole.
Leaning towards the crowd, she noticed Draco was in the front row. She bends over backwards, touching the stage with her hands to help support herself, her breasts straining with the gravitational pull, and she popped right out of her bra cups.
They whole time she watched Draco's eyes. They popped, and then burned with lust; he was twitching and trying to be discrete while adjusting himself. He was obviously filled with desire. She was just close enough to the stage’s edge to pull him in for a kiss.
Harry stared at her crotch, from this angle, he could see how wet she was, and how wet she was making him. The g-string held nothing in. It allowed him a vision of her nether lips, of which he’d only ever dreamed. They were puffy and beautiful. They mesmerised him, oh if only he could touch her, lick her, taste her. He stopped that line of thought, as he was getting too hard. He knew he’d come just from the thoughts he was having, and her constant grinding against him.
The crowd went quiet and then loud, so Harry looked up in time to see why. It was because she was kissing Draco Malfoy, upside down, ala the American movie Spiderman, and its famous ‘upside down kiss’. When she broke the kiss, she whispered to Draco, telling him to make sure and go home to his wife, she would surely appreciate his attention and help him to relieve his predicament. She winked at him and he was stunned. When had Granger become a seductress?
Harry was feeling defeated until she pushed off with her hands and slammed herself up against him. Looking into his eyes, she saw the same lust in them that she knew was in her own eyes. Reaching around, she unhooked her shoe from the pole and asked, “Harry do you want me?”
He was dumbfounded and could only nod. She winked and sensually unwrapped her leg from him and turned around, still touching him. Facing the crowd, she ran her hands over her now exposed breasts. Tweaking her nipples, she thrust them out for the crowd to see and then she bid them good night. “See you all another time, I promise.” She pushed back into Harry and then they walked off the stage.
Once in the back, he put his hand on her breast and she moaned, ripped off the bra and leaned into his hand. She pulled him into the dressing room and began kissing him, as she was trying to undress him. She was standing there in the g-string, thigh highs and heels. She freed his erection and gutturally whispered, “Drive it home Harry, I need it now.” He needed no further encouragement. Slipping the g-string to the side, sliding home was all that he was interested in doing - a great number of times tonight if his body could keep up. He supposed if he needed a break, that he could always entertain her with his tongue. That gave him several more ideas, as he was stroking her to a frenzy. She shattered and he followed within a stroke or two. He allowed her legs to straighten and her feet to hit the floor.
He said, “We need to go. There’s so much I want to do with you, and to you, but this place is not where I want to be when next you scream my name.”
She nodded and made to pick up her own clothing. He didn’t let her go. “No, I don't think you need those. I like you in just what you have on, or don't have on.” As he pulled out of her, he did a quick cleansing spell on them, and then he got an awful grin, as near a smirk as she’d ever witnessed on his face.
“What are you thinking? I half want to know and I’m half afraid to know,” she squeaked out, watching him put himself back together.
“Leave their shoes here and lets cover you a little, we don't need you picked up for solicitation.” Picking up her own knickers he continued, “Here are your own knickers, they’ll do nicely.” They were a new pair of lacy ones called cheekies, so her bum hung out the bottom side of the knickers. She still had on the thigh highs; he allowed her to put her bra on but nipped out the cup where her nipples were so they poked through the cup. He placed the wrap dress on her but did not fasten it.
“We’re going to walk out through the door and through the crowd; they’re going to get a good look at how hot you are. You’re going to know that every woman there wants to be you, and they’ll go home to get shagged by their man. Then every man out there is going to wish it were he taking you home to shag. You’re going to be the image in everyone's mind as they are being shagged tonight.”
She shuddered at the thought, completely turned on again. Harry misunderstood the shudder and back peddled from the idea.
“If you don’t want to, we can secure your dress and still go with just your nipples poking through, but if you really want to give them something to imagine, and dream about, let’s go with the show.”
She thought for a moment. It would be slightly embarrassing, but empowering as well. Everyone here lived by the motto that hung above the door - ‘What happens within these walls, stays with in these walls' - so she knew that no pictures would be taken and leaked to the Prophet.
Neville had asked for a permit for special wards prohibiting such, and once you crossed the wards you could remember what happened but you couldn’t tell someone who had not been there to witness what you were talking about. When you were talking about anything, if someone were to overhear, but had not been there, they would not be able to repeat what they heard. It simply would not stick in their memory long enough to repeat.
For that reason, she opted for the open dress with held her chin up high, and marched through the crowd, with Harry glowering at anyone who tried to touch her. Making their way through the crowd to the bar, she wanted to thank both Neville and Greg for a wonderful evening. The expressions in their eyes was enough to let her know she’d done the right thing. The pure appreciation that poured from them was a very empowering.
When she reached the doors she gathered her dress about her, secured it, and then she and Harry departed as if they had just left after having a wonderful dinner out.
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