Hermione Granger and the Potion of Perilous Pleasure

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Chapter 8 (A Shower with Ginny), Chapter 9 (Does Every Problem Need a Solution?), Chapter 10 (Luna is a Good Friend), Chapter 11 (Fun and Pleasure), Chapter 12 (Taming the Brightest Witch), Chapter 13 (Sisters of House Black), Chapter 14 (Greenhouse Temptations), and Chapter 15 (A Hufflepuff's Heart) are already available for Patrons.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, immediately assaulted by the harsh morning light streaming through the dormitory windows. She groaned, her head pounding as if a herd of hippogriffs were trampling through her skull.

"Merlin's saggy bollocks," she muttered, pressing her palms against her temples. "Never again. I swear on Godric's grave, never bloody again."

As she lay there, willing the room to stop spinning, fragmented memories of the previous night began to surface. Flashes of skin, the taste of firewhisky, and... lips. So many lips.

Hermione furrowed her brow, concentrating despite the throbbing pain. She remembered kissing someone - Lavender, maybe? Or was it Susan Bones? The faces blurred together in her alcohol-soaked recollection.

"Come on, Granger," she chided herself. "You're the brightest witch of your age. Surely you can remember a simple party."

But as she strained to recall the events, one memory suddenly crystallized with startling clarity. Ginny's hand, landing squarely on her lap. On her...

"Oh, fuck," Hermione whispered, her eyes flying open in panic.

She sat up abruptly, ignoring the wave of nausea that accompanied the movement. Her hands flew to her crotch, confirming that yes, her newest anatomical addition was still very much present, and it was hard as fuck, now she could understand what they meant with morning wood.

"Bloody hell," she groaned. "How am I going to explain this?"

For the next hour, Hermione lay in bed, cycling through various scenarios of how to approach Ginny. Should she be casual? Apologetic? Pretend it never happened? Each option seemed worse than the last.

Finally, signs of life began to stir in the other beds. Parvati stretched languidly, while Lavender let out a pitiful moan that suggested her hangover rivaled Hermione's own.

Hermione's eyes darted to Ginny's bed, her heart racing as the redhead sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Morning, all," Ginny yawned, looking far too chipper for someone who should, by all rights, be nursing a monstrous hangover. "Merlin's beard, what a night, eh?"

Hermione tensed, waiting for the inevitable confrontation. But Ginny simply swung her legs out of bed and stood, stretching her arms above her head.

"I don't know about you lot, but I'm starving," Ginny announced. "Who's up for some hangover fry-up?"

Hermione blinked in confusion. No accusations? No awkward questions? It was as if... as if nothing had happened at all.

"Gin?" Hermione ventured cautiously. "Do you, um... remember much about last night?"

Ginny cocked her head, considering. "Bits and pieces. I remember the Ravenclaw Trio trying to 'help' Susan with her insecurities, which was a disaster. And I think Lavender snogged half the common room." She grinned at the blonde, who buried her face in her pillow with a groan. "Why? Did I miss something good?"

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it again. Should she bring it up? Force the issue?

But as she looked at Ginny's easy smile and relaxed demeanor, Hermione found herself relaxing as well. Maybe it had all been a dream. A very vivid, alcohol-induced hallucination.

"No," Hermione said finally, managing a small smile. "Just checking. It's all a bit fuzzy, to be honest."

Ginny laughed. "Well, that's what happens when you try to outdrink a Weasley, Granger. Come on, let's get some food in you. Nothing cures a hangover like grease and regret."

As the girls began to dress and prepare for the day, Hermione felt the knot of anxiety in her chest slowly unraveling. Whatever had or hadn't happened last night, it seemed the status quo remained intact.

Still, as she caught her reflection in the mirror, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted. 

Maybe Ginny really had forgotten. Maybe Hermione wouldn't have to explain anything after all. Maybe... just maybe... she had dodged a bullet.

Still, as Hermione sat there, watching the other girls slowly piece themselves back together, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling lingering in the pit of her stomach.

For the next two hours, Hermione felt a strange mix of relief and paranoia. Ginny had acted so normal—too normal. There hadn't been a single sign that she remembered anything from last night. Hermione had clung to that small hope, telling herself over and over again that maybe Ginny had just been too drunk, that it had all slipped away in the haze of alcohol. But every now and then, she would catch Ginny's eye and feel a small flutter of doubt.

What if Ginny was just pretending not to remember?

That nagging thought stayed at the back of her mind, but for the most part, Hermione allowed herself to feel relieved. At least, she thought, if Ginny wasn't bringing it up, then it didn't have to become an awkward topic of conversation. Maybe she could get through the day without having to explain anything.

But Hermione's moment of peace was short-lived, especially once Lavender Brown was fully awake and functional. And Lavender did remember.

"So, Hermione," Lavender purred, sitting on her bed, "Sleep well?"

There was a glint in Lavender's eye that made Hermione's stomach flip.

"Fine, thanks," Hermione mumbled, suddenly very interested in her pumpkin juice.

Lavender leaned in close, her breath tickling Hermione's ear. "I certainly did. Had the most delicious dreams..."

Hermione felt her face flush. "Oh? That's... nice."

"Mmhmm," Lavender hummed. "All about a certain bushy-haired prefect and her very talented tongue."

Hermione choked on her juice, sputtering and coughing as Lavender giggled.

"Everything alright, Hermione?" Ginny asked, plopping down across from them with a knowing smirk. "You look a bit flushed."

"I'm fine," Hermione squeaked, shooting Lavender a panicked look. "Just... went down the wrong pipe."

Lavender's grin widened. "Oh, I bet it did."

Ginny snorted into her eggs. "Merlin's beard, Lav. At least let the poor girl finish her breakfast before you start in on her."

Hermione's eyes darted between the two girls. "Start in on me? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't play coy," Lavender teased. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Or do you need a reminder?"

Before Hermione could react, Lavender leaned in and planted a quick kiss on her cheek, dangerously close to the corner of her mouth. Hermione felt her cock twitch traitorously beneath her skirt.

"Lavender!" Hermione hissed, the other girls were giggling, especially Romilda. "What are you doing?"

"Jogging your memory," Lavender replied innocently. "Since you seem to have forgotten our little... encounter... last night."

Ginny leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh? Do tell, Lav. What exactly did our innocent little Hermione get up to?"

Hermione's mind raced, searching for any plausible excuse. "I... I don't know what you're talking about. We were all drunk, things got a bit silly, that's all."

"Silly?" Lavender arched an eyebrow. "Is that what we're calling it now? Because I distinctly remember you moaning as I kiss-"

"Okay!" Hermione interrupted, her voice an octave higher than usual. "Maybe things got a bit... heated. But it was just the firewhisky talking."

Ginny snickered. "Must have been some strong firewhisky. I've never seen you so... uninhibited."

Hermione groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Can we please change the subject?"

"Why?" Lavender asked, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "I was rather hoping for an encore performance."

Hermione's head snapped up to see Lavender gazing at her through hooded eyes, slowly running her tongue across her bottom lip. The sight sent a jolt of arousal straight to Hermione's cock.

"I..." Hermione swallowed hard, acutely aware of her growing erection. "That's not a good idea, Lav."

"Why not?" Lavender pouted. "Didn't you enjoy it?"

Hermione squirmed in her bed, trying to adjust her position without drawing attention to her predicament. "That's not the point. We were drunk, it was a mistake."

"Didn't feel like a mistake to me," Lavender murmured, inching closer. "In fact, it felt pretty damn perfect."

Ginny watched the exchange with undisguised glee. "Go on, Hermione. Live a little. What's the worst that could happen?"

'Oh, I don't know,' Hermione thought sarcastically. 'How about Lavender discovering I've suddenly grown a penis and running screaming from the room?'

Aloud, she said, "I appreciate the offer, Lav, but I think it's best if we just forget about it and move on."

Lavender's eyes narrowed. "You're hiding something, Granger. And I intend to find out what it is."

Before Hermione could react, Lavender pressed herself against her side, one hand sliding dangerously close to Hermione's lap. Panic surged through her as she realized Lavender was mere inches away from discovering her secret.

Hermione quickly pushed herself away, swinging her legs over the bed, and pushing herself off of it, almost running away from Lavender, at the very lease she had not touched her cock.

Lavender, never one to back down, leaned in again, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "Are you sure you don't want to kiss me again? Just one little kiss, Hermione. What's the harm?"

Hermione's heart raced, and for a moment, she could almost feel herself giving in, her body betraying her mind. But then she remembered—if she let Lavender get too close, she'd feel everything. She'd feel the throbbing hardness straining beneath Hermione's skirt, and there'd be no hiding it.

"No," Hermione said firmly, taking a deep breath and stepping back. "I'm good."

Lavender pouted again, but the playful glint in her eyes never faded. "Your loss," she said with a wink, before finally turning away to rejoin the rest of the girls.

Ginny, however, wasn't quite finished with her teasing. She leaned closer to Hermione, her voice low and full of amusement. "You know, Hermione," she whispered, "if you liked it so much, there's no shame in admitting it."

Hermione's heart nearly stopped. Ginny was standing too close, far too close for comfort. Hermione could still feel the weight of her hand from last night, the way she had touched her waist—and felt her cock. But Ginny wasn't giving any indication that she remembered, at least not directly. Maybe this was all just part of the teasing, the usual post-party fun. Maybe Ginny wasn't hiding anything. But the thought lingered in Hermione's mind, making her pulse race all over again.

"I—I didn't," Hermione muttered, trying to sound convincing but knowing she wasn't. "It was just... a game."

Ginny gave her a knowing smile, patting her shoulder lightly. "Sure, Hermione. Whatever you say."

As Ginny walked away, leaving Hermione standing there flustered and confused, Hermione couldn't help but feel that despite all the teasing and half-joking, there was a small chance—just a small one—that Ginny did remember. And that thought alone was enough to make her stomach twist with nerves.

For now, though, she'd managed to avoid another kiss with Lavender. But she wasn't sure how long her luck would hold out.

Hermione practically bolted from the Gryffindor Tower, trying to shake off the teasing laughter of Lavender and Ginny that seemed to echo in her head. Her heart still pounded in her chest as she walked briskly into the Main Hall, Ron and Harry's usual chatter—might calm her down. She needed something normal, something that didn't involve kisses, moans, and... well, things she was desperately trying to forget.

Hermione spotted Ron and Harry easily, sitting at their usual spot at the Gryffindor table, their heads bent low over some book. She made her way over, her face still flushed from the earlier events but trying to compose herself as best as she could.

"Morning," Hermione mumbled as she slid onto the bench next to them, grabbing a piece of toast and some eggs. The smell of food made her stomach turn slightly—hangovers and greasy food didn't mix well—but she forced herself to eat something. She needed to distract herself.

"Morning, Hermione!" Ron said, barely glancing up as he jabbed a finger at the open book in front of him. "Have a look at this. It's amazing."

Hermione glanced at the book with disinterest, her mind still swirling with thoughts of Lavender's teasing, the kisses, and worst of all, the moment when Ginny's hand had brushed against her cock. She had spent all morning trying to convince herself that Ginny had forgotten about it. But then why did she feel so jumpy every time Ginny was around?

"What's so special about it?" she asked, half-heartedly attempting to join the conversation while taking a small bite of her toast.

"It's brilliant!" Harry said, his eyes gleaming as he flipped through the pages. "Look at this—whoever owned this before wrote all these notes and even invented spells. It's like having a cheat sheet. Says it belongs to someone called 'The Half-Blood Prince.'"

"That's nice," Hermione muttered, hardly absorbing what they were saying. She forced a smile, nodding along but keeping her eyes focused on her plate. Her mind was elsewhere—still elsewhere. Everything about last night was still too raw, too confusing. Especially the way Lavender had teased her endlessly, asking for more kisses. She couldn't stop thinking about it, no matter how much she wanted to.

Ron and Harry were still talking animatedly about the book, but Hermione barely registered the conversation. She was too wrapped up in her own thoughts, trying desperately to stay calm. She needed to focus, but it was impossible when every time she closed her eyes, she saw Lavender's lips or felt the ghost of Ginny's fingers on her waist.

She picked at her food, barely eating, when finally, after what felt like hours but was really only a few minutes, the meal was over. She pushed her plate away, feeling too anxious to sit still any longer. She was about to stand up when she felt a familiar presence next to her. Ginny.

"Hermione," Ginny said in a tone that was almost too casual. "Can we talk? You know... in private?"

Hermione's stomach dropped. She had been dreading this moment all morning. Oh no. Her throat felt dry as she looked up at Ginny, her eyes widening just a fraction. This was it. This was when Ginny would bring up last night, the moment when she'd touched Hermione's cock. This was the moment Hermione had been trying to avoid.

Her heart raced as she forced a nod, trying her best to stay composed. "Uh, sure. Where?"

"Outside, by the Quidditch stands?" 

Hermione nodded again, her mouth dry as she followed Ginny out of the Main Hall. Ron and Harry were too busy discussing their newfound book to notice the tension, and for that, Hermione was grateful. But with every step, her mind raced faster, her nerves winding tighter and tighter.

What was Ginny going to say? What was she going to ask? Did she remember?

The walk to the Quidditch stands felt agonizingly long, and by the time they reached the secluded spot, Hermione's hands were shaking slightly. She tried to hide it, but it was impossible to ignore the anxiety clawing at her insides. 

Hermione's heart raced as she followed Ginny to the secluded area behind the Quidditch stadium. Her palms were sweaty, and she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears. This was it - the moment of truth. Ginny was finally going to confront her about what she'd felt last night.

As they reached a quiet spot hidden from view, Hermione took a deep breath, steeling herself for the inevitable questions and accusations. But when Ginny turned to face her, there was a glint in her eye that Hermione couldn't quite decipher.

"Ginny, I can explain-" Hermione began, but her words were cut off as Ginny suddenly surged forward, pressing their lips together in a searing kiss.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock, but as Ginny's soft lips moved against hers, she found herself melting into the embrace. A low moan escaped her throat as Ginny's tongue teased at the seam of her lips, seeking entrance.

'I should stop this,' Hermione thought hazily. 'This is wrong, we shouldn't-'

But her body had other ideas. As Ginny pressed closer, deepening the kiss, Hermione's hands found their way to the redhead's waist, pulling her flush against her body.

Ginny's hand slid down Hermione's front, coming to rest on the unmistakable bulge straining against her uniform skirt. Hermione gasped into the kiss, her hips involuntarily bucking forward at the contact.

Just as suddenly as it had begun, Ginny broke the kiss, pulling back with a wicked smirk playing on her lips. Hermione blinked, dazed and aroused, as she tried to process what had just happened.

"Well, well, well," Ginny purred, her hand still resting lightly on Hermione's erection. "Looks like our little bookworm has been keeping some very interesting secrets."

Hermione's blood ran cold. This was it - the moment she'd been dreading. "Ginny, I can explain, it's not what you think-"

But Ginny just laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down Hermione's spine. "Oh, I think it's exactly what I think, Hermione. You know, when I first felt this last night, I thought maybe you were wearing some kind of magical strap-on. Merlin knows, with your skills at Transfiguration, you could probably whip one up in your sleep."

Hermione swallowed hard, her mind racing. Maybe she could play along with that explanation, pretend it was just an experiment gone awry...

But then Ginny's hand began to move, stroking Hermione through the fabric of her skirt. Hermione's eyes fluttered shut as a moan escaped her lips, her hips instinctively pushing into Ginny's touch.

"But you see," Ginny continued, her voice low and husky, "no strap-on, magical or otherwise, can replicate that reaction. That, my dear Hermione, is one hundred percent real."

Hermione's eyes flew open, meeting Ginny's heated gaze. There was no disgust there, no revulsion - only curiosity and unmistakable desire.

"Ginny," Hermione breathed, her voice shaky. "I... I don't know what to say."

Ginny's smirk widened as she continued her ministrations, drawing another involuntary moan from Hermione. "You don't have to say anything, 'Mione."

As Ginny's hand moved, Hermione's head fell back, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her body. She knew they should stop, that anyone could stumble upon them at any moment. But as Ginny's lips found her neck, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her pulse point, Hermione found herself beyond caring.

Hermione let out a strangled moan, her body betraying her as Ginny's hand worked her cock with practiced ease, the friction through the fabric almost too much to bear. Her legs felt weak, her knees threatening to give out as pleasure coursed through her, making her dizzy. She knew this was wrong, that she should pull away, stop Ginny before things went too far—but Ginny's hand on her cock, the way she was touching her, it felt too good.

"Ginny..." Hermione whispered, her voice shaky, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She wasn't sure what she was trying to say, whether she wanted Ginny to stop or keep going, but the words died in her throat as Ginny gave her cock one more firm stroke, sending a jolt of pleasure through her that made her moan again, louder this time.

Ginny's smirk deepened, her hand lingering for just a moment longer before she pulled away, leaving Hermione trembling and on the edge of release. "That's definitely not a strap-on."

Hermione stood there, dazed. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and completely at Ginny's mercy. 

Ginny leaned in close again, her breath hot against Hermione's ear. "Don't worry," she whispered, her voice soft but laced with a teasing edge. "Your secret's safe with me... for now." With that, she pulled back, flashing Hermione one last knowing grin before turning and walking away, leaving Hermione standing there, breathless and shaken, her cock still painfully hard beneath her skirt.

As Ginny disappeared into the distance, Hermione's legs finally gave way, and she slumped against the Quidditch stands, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't believe what had just happened, couldn't process the fact that Ginny now knew. She had touched her, jerked her off, and knew it was real.

She didn't know what this meant, what would happen next—but one thing was clear. She was in deep now.

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