Title: Those Evil White
Skirts
Rating: Soft R
Chapter: 01/01 (ONE-SHOT)
Genre: Romance, a bit of humor
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and canon Potter Verse belong to
JK Rowling and associates. I am in no way affiliated with Warner Brothers JK
Rowling or associated companies.
Summary: Harry was feeling uneasy about a flimsy piece of fabric. It was
going to be a long night.
Warnings: sexual intercourse in a public place. EWE.
Author's Notes: Written for Wieimmer on hghpficexchange on LJ.
Honestly,
this isn’t exactly the style of fic I am used to write (or even read), but I
really tried my best here. I sincerely hope you enjoy
it.
A
huge thank you to sugarquill39 for the beta.
THOSE EVIL WHITE
SKIRTS
“Looking good, Granger,” was the first thing my best female friend Hermione
Granger heard as she approached our table at The Leprechaun’s, a pub
that was opened soon after the war.
It was a little disrespectful, if I say so myself. How dare that prick, good
for nothing, albino fer-, I mean, Draco Malfoy say something like that?!
I’m not saying that Hermione wasn’t looking good, which by the way, she was.
She was wearing a dark blue blouse and the sexiest skirt I’ve ever seen. It was
perfectly adjusted on her body. But, most of all, it was...white.
It was so white it seemed almost transparent, even if it actually wasn’t. It
was sexy, not vulgar. The kind of skirt that made you wonder, and imagine...
That’s why I say I don’t like white. Wizards don’t wear white, you know?
Witches should never wear white...unless you are Gandalf, but, really,
that bloke spent a big part of his not so short life wearing grey. So, yeah, no
white clothes for wizards and witches.
I’m not saying we should only wear black. Dark Green or even blue are good
choices, too. Of course some wizards are a little more extreme when it
comes to colors. Er, but I guess it’s better to not discuss that.
And I don’t think the slimy git Snape would look too good if he had started to
wear bright purple robes. Yeah, definitely not good.
Ah, my apologies about the slimy git comment about the slimy git Snape. I know
we all know now who he really was and what he did...blah blah blah...but it
doesn’t mean I’ll start to say I love the guy, or name a son after him. Certainly
not.
I can bet that if Hermione were wearing a good pair of old baggy paints (Um,
maybe I should suggest she only wear baggy pants...that seems like a good
idea), Malfoy wouldn’t say she was...you know, what he said
Just between us, I’ll never really like Malfoy. Yeah, yeah, I know he is
with Ginny- and, yes, he makes her happy (I wonder how), but for me he will
always be the ferret.
What a prick!
“Why, thank you,” Hermione’s response broke my reveries and I looked up at her
to see, to my surprise, that she wasn’t angry or embarrassed, but in fact smiling
(yes, smiling! Can you believe it?!) at the ferre- I mean, at Malfoy. “But I
don’t want to cause troubles between you and Ginny.”
“Not to worry, Hermione. I trust-” Ginny said and then looked meaningfully at
her boyfriend, “-you.”
Of course everybody laughed when Ginny said that. And by everybody I mean Seamus
and Lav, Dean and Luna, Neville and Susan, and Ron and Pansy.
Yeah...yeah...prick Malfoy could say that Hermione was looking good and
everyone seemed to think it was bloody normal.
Everyone except me, mind you! No, I didn’t want to sound like a wimp (I still
don’t get why people insist to describe me as a moody person...) but...
“And we all know Ginny doesn’t have to be worried,” Lavender said, “Our dear
Hermione wants to look good for Terry Boot.”
I snapped my head and stared at Lavender and then at Hermione, who to my
surprise seemed to be flushing. Just a little, but I could see the blush on her
cheeks!
“Terry Boot?!” I sputtered louder than I had intended. “What do you mean,
Terry?!” I asked again, boring my eyes into Hermione’s, who stared back but
didn’t say anything.
“It seems Terry Boot is interested in our Hermione, Mate,” my soon to be
ex-best friend Ronald Weasley said, as if this was the most normal thing in the
world.
“A-And you are all right with it?!” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Harry, Hermione and I broke up a year ago.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Why
wouldn’t I be all right with it? Not to mention, I have my Pansy here now,”
saying that, he reached for Parkinson’s hand, squeezing it.
So now anyone could be interested in Hermione...c-could flirt with her
and no one would say a thing?
“Boot is a good bloke, man,” Dean commented.
“He is a Ravenclaw!” I argued.
“And this is a problem because?” Dean inquired. “Luna was in Ravenclaw too.”
“Er...”
“Dean, love, I don’t think that is the problem,” Luna said gazing at me with
her big dreamy eyes.
I simply looked away.
“Sure if he hurts her in anyway I’ll have to do something,” Ron explained as a
matter of fact. Right, as if it was any consolation...if Terry Bloody Boot hurt
her it would mean he had done something and...
It’s not like I even care, you know?
“Of course this doesn’t mean that ferret there can say she is looking good,”
Ron continued, sending ugly looks towards Malfoy. Well, at least we could agree
on something!
“Why is that, Weasel?” Malfoy mocked. “Jealous? Or Parkins-”
“Watch what you are going to say, Malfoy!”
“I don’t-”
“For Circe!” Neville cried allowed and everyone looked at him in mild surprise.
“Can’t you two stop? If I didn’t know any better I would say you are in love
with each other!”
I don’t know what happened first: Seamus spilling his drink, Hermione biting
her lip trying not to laugh, Dean in hysterics, Draco and Ron...
Exploding.
“NEVILLE!!” they both cried at the same time.
But Neville didn’t pay attention; he chose that moment to snog Susan just a
bit.
Go Nev!
“Well, Harry,” Ron spoke again, cleaning his throat, “like I was saying, of
course we will need to have a talk with Boot-”
“Argh! Honestly!” Hermione cried in frustration. I couldn’t help but grin.
“You’re acting as if I was about to marry the guy!”
“Do you want marry Boot?!”
“For Merlin’s Sake, Harry James!” she huffed. “The only thing we did was have
lunch together. Unfortunately, Lavender here was at the same restaurant.” She
looked pointedly at her former roommate.
At that moment I felt something break inside me. “S-So you two had a date?” I
asked in a low voice, not sure if I would want to hear the answer.
“No, Harry, Terry and I just had lunch together. We talked only about work. We
work in the same Department, you know that...”
“Yeah...” I murmured, not really paying attention to what she said next. I
lowered my gaze, and stared at my hands. She had never had mentioned any lunch
date with Bloody Boot. Did it mean something?
Maybe she really wanted to hook up with...nah...not Hermione. But then...
And she was wearing a bloody sexy white skirt.
She only wanted to look nice.
Who are you kidding, Potter?
“Harry, are you all right?” I heard Hermione ask. Once again, it seemed I
spaced out for a few seconds.
I blinked twice and looked at her. “You looked a little lost,” she said with a
glint of concern in her eyes.
I couldn’t help but smile at her, feeling somewhat good for being the object of
her concern. Not that it was something new, but still...I liked it.
“I just spaced out for a moment there,” I replied, smiling at her. “I’m good.”
“Yes, you are,” she said looking meaningfully at my eyes, a small smirk on the
corner of her lips.
God damnit, woman!
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “I’ll take something to drink,” I said
clearing my throat just a bit. “Anyone else want something?”
They all shook their heads. “All right then,” I said to no one in particular,
standing up from my seat. “I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, Harry!” Hermione called my name, getting up as well. “I’ll go with you.”
I didn’t say anything. I Just smiled at her.
---
We made our way to the bar in silence.
“A Butterbeer for me, and-” I gazed at Hermione, who nodded. “Two Butterbeers,
please,” I asked the bartender.
“So, Granger,” I spoke, leaning a little closer to Hermione, “you think I am
good? I’m rather flattered.”
“Of course I think you’re good,” she said, “you really are a good friend, a
good Auror...”
I laughed lightly at her reply. “Touché, Hermione Grang-”
“Sir, your drinks,” the bartender interrupted me. I paid and thanked him,
taking the two Butterbeers.
“You didn’t have to pay for drink, Harry.”
“Of course, I did,” I said, giving a bottle to her. I opened my Butterbeer and
took a sip. “You can pay me later.”
Hermione came closer to me. “And how would I do that?” she whispered, her lips
barely touching my earlobe.
I swallowed hard, noticing that my pants were starting to get awfully
uncomfortable. “Granger, Granger,” I whispered back in a husky voice, placing a
hand on her lower back. “Be careful, we are in a public place here.”
“And who says this is a problem?” She smiled mischievously before walking away.
“Damnit, woman!” I cried in frustration. Frustration on so many levels...
I finished my beer in one big gulp and went after her. Even if the place was
dark and crowded, I could see that she went in direction of the restrooms.
---
“Oh, you won’t run away from me like that, woman!” I hissed when I finally
reached her, grabbing her arm from behind.
Hermione yelped. “Harry!” She tried to turn around but I didn’t let her.
Instead, I flipped her over so her stomach was now glued against the wall.
“What are you doing?!” her voice sounded indignant at first, but I could feel
she was as excited as I was.
“Afraid of something, Granger?” I whispered, pressing my hard body against hers
from behind, holding her hand above her head. Merlin, that woman really drove
me crazy.
“We-we are in a public place, Harry.” She was breathing hard.
I pressed my body even closer to her. “You said yourself this wasn’t a
problem.” With my free hand, I moved some of her hair from her neck and began
to place small kisses on her skin.
“I-I was kidding, H-H...Oh!” she moaned as I bit lightly her earlobe.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” I groaned and turned her around so we
were finally face to face. “Do you?”
“Harry...”
“I want you,” I murmured closer to her lips. “I need you.”
“I need you too, Harry,” she whispered back and our lips finally met in a kiss
that was a mixture of passion and despair.
It’s really difficult to not sound sappy or cheesy when you are describing a
kiss with the love of your life. I could use millions of adjectives and
still...and still I would sound horribly cliché.
We didn’t say anything coherent as I yanked up her white skirt, and pushed down
her knickers as she hurriedly unbuttoned my trousers, freeing me. Almost
instinctively, Hermione wrapped her legs around my waist, her hands in my hair.
With a hard movement
I plunged roughly into her, paying no attention to the others in the club.
“I don’t want hear about you talking about Terry bloody Boot, okay?” I hissed
between hard thrusts.
“Oh...a-and why...?”
“I don’t like the idea of another bloke looking at you.”
“I am a free, single woman, Harry, I-”
I cut her off crashing my mouth against hers, giving a hard and final thrust.
“Oh!”
“You are with me,” I hissed breathing hard, still inside her.
“Am I?” she gazed at my eyes and my heart flipped at the sight. There was
wonder and...hope.
“Yes, you are,” I said, tracing her cheek with my thumb. “You’re my girl.”
“Am-Am I your girl?” she asked again, a slight smile on her lips.
“Yes, you are my girl, my everything,” I told her, never breaking our stare.
“Maybe it’s time to tell the others. It has been eight months since we got
together, Hermione.”
She nodded. “I’d love to, but let’s talk with Ron first. After all, it was
because of him that we didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, but at the time he wasn’t shagging Parkinson!”
“Harry!”
“Sorry.”
“Hermione?”
“Yeah?”
“You know that when we make it public, people won’t leave us in peace. Some
even may make nasty comments...”
“Yeah, but I don’t care.”
“I don’t care either, but I’d rather not have people saying things about you-”
“Harry?”
“Huh?”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Ah! Have I ever told you how I love white skirts?
The End.