40 Days

November 26, 1997

I hummed to myself as I sat on his lap, some melody I had heard somewhere, my head laid back resting against his shoulder, my palms lying limply upward at my sides.

“What are you humming?”

I sang it out loud for him, only half remembering the lyrics, my voice slow and dreamy. “Merrily, merrily, down the stream, life is but a dream.”

I heard the smile in his voice as he spoke. “Do you think you’re dreaming?”

I paused, unsure how to answer, how he wanted me to answer. I could hear him inside me, like my own thoughts. I was a puppet, and I wiggled and danced at his command.

Tell the truth.

“I don’t know.” I answered truthfully. I wasn’t sure if this all wasn’t a dream. Perhaps I would wake up with my own magical necklace on. Maybe I was still fourteen, and this was one of those frightening delusions I had had from lack of sleep and jumping through time. Maybe I would wake up, the long chain of the time turner shifting against my skin, annoyed that today I had divination with Trelawney.

Maybe.

‘That’s really just as plausible to happen as me sitting in your lap, with your thoughts in my head, under your control, right?” I stopped, a little startled at my own voice. Had I been speaking out loud the entire time?

His hands moved, sliding under my shirt, hot against my skin. The glide of his quidditch roughened hands against my own soft skin felt so good, I couldn’t help the noise I made, the softest of moans.

“Do you like it when I touch you, Hermione?”

“Yes.”

His hands slid lower then, drifting downward, to cup me between my legs where I was wearing only underwear. When had I undressed?

Harry pressed his hand against me, and my thoughts scattered. He stroked me gently, teasingly, and my thighs trembled from the sensations. My legs were spread wide, laying on the outside of his own as I laid against him, my back to his front. 

“Do you remember last year when you said I was fanciable?”

I nodded a bit frantically, unable to otherwise move as he rubbed me through my panties, my mouth open with small quiet cries as pleasure rolled through me at his touch.

“Did you find me fanciable?”

“Yes!”

He leaned forward a bit, his mouth right near my ear, his stroking hand not pausing. “Come for me and say my name, Hermione.”

Come for me.

The words echoed, ricocheting inside me, setting fire to my nerve endings. My nipples tightened and I could feel the wet cling of my panties. I shuddered as my climax hit in waves, pulsing through me.

Say my name.

“Harry!” I jerked against him, pressing myself harder against his hand, and his other hand went higher up my shirt, grabbing my breast roughly, pinching my nipple.

I squeezed my eyes shut, stars exploding behind my closed lids with how intense my orgasm felt, the pleasure so sharp it eviscerated me. I was dying in his arms.

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily… 

“I’ve never made love to anyone before, Hermione. Have you?”

“No.”

“Then we’ll be each other’s first. Isn’t that lovely?”

Life is but a dream.