The Devil is a Gentlemen
Hermione tried not to fiddle with her clothes as she made her way past the anti-apparation wards that surrounded Hogwarts, feeling entirely uncomfortable in her own skin. She had always been the type to wear jeans and a loose jumper, perhaps a flattering blouse if the occasion called for it, but last night Theo had insisted that she wear tight form fitting clothes for their first lesson scheduled for today.
She had initially scoffed and reminded him that they wouldn’t be having sex anymore, but he had just rolled his eyes and let himself in her room, completely ignoring her protests, and began digging through her dresser. Hermione had stared completely dumbfounded as he ruffled through her clothing, mumbling to himself the entire time. What kind of twilight zone alternate dimension had she stepped into that Theodore Nott was in her bedroom digging through her clothes drawers?
When Theo presented an outfit that he deemed suitable for whatever lesson he had planned for her, the only words she could formulate was “your joking, right?”.
“Not even a little” he said, stone cold serious. Observing her incredulous look, he sighed, “If you want to survive combat with a death eater, you need to learn to fight like one. You will need to learn more than just magical combat, but physical combat as well. Very rarely will you come across a death eater in the field that doesn’t have at least three alternate ways to kill you besides a wand. Wearing loose clothes on the battlefield makes you vulnerable, fabric snags easy, and more fabric is more to grab. You need to become accustomed to combat in snug clothing so that it feels natural during the real thing. Capeesh?”.
Hermione swallowed nervously at the thought of real combat and looked back at the outfit. If she wanted to survive this war, she was going to have to be willing to leave her comfort zone.
“Okay” she said while nodding.
“Good” he said. “Now, meet me at our spot at 7pm tomorrow, wear this, and don’t be late”. He began making his way back to her bedroom door.
“Nott?” she called after him.
He paused and turned to look at her, his expression carefully guarded. She took a deep breath, willing herself to be brave enough to ask the question that had been nagging at her ever since she saw his mark.
“Have you ever killed anyone?” she squeaked.
Theo must have been expecting the question at some point, because he barely even blinked after the words left her mouth, and his face remained calm and stoic as he considered the question. “None of us will come out of the other end of this war without blood on our hands Granger” he said in an expressionless tone and then walked out of her bedroom, closing it behind him with a resounding thud.
And that’s how Hermione Granger found herself traipsing through the tall grass next to the black lake as she made her way to the anti-apparation line, pulling and picking at her clothes, and trying to decide if she had gone mad. She was willingly learning dark magic from a death eater, who vaguely admitted to murder the night before, at an isolated location that nobody but herself, said death eater in question, and his death eater best friend knew about. She was wearing figure hugging calf skin pants, a snug long sleeved black knit shirt that left very little to the imagination, and a pair of dragon hide boots, a gift from Harry the year prior. She felt like she had just walked out of a James Bond movie, and she prayed no one would see her making her way across the grounds before she had a chance to apparate. She understood what Theo was saying about the practicality of form fitting clothes versus loose clothing in battle, but it was going to take some getting used to.
She reached the anti-apparation line with a sigh of relief, and wasted no time twisting into thin air, hopefully before someone spotted her, and landed with a soft pop in the field next to the cliffs edge. She looked around and saw that Theo was already here, sitting on a tree stump and sharpening a rather large knife with what looked like a smooth rock.
Hermione quietly padded in his direction but paused about 15 paces away, her mind racing with uncertainty, it wasn’t too late to take it all back. She could apparate back to the castle and write to Harry and Ron, or get McGonagall, aurors would arrive at the castle within minutes.
Before she had any time to consider the possibility, he spoke without lifting his head.
“You’re not as stealthy as you think Granger, if you are reconsidering our arrangement, then go, no hard feelings”. He stood up and faced her, sheathing the knife he had been sharpening in a leather holster strapped around his broad shoulders and chest. “That should be your first lesson, should you accept; stop feeling guilty about everything. Guilt will slow you down, guilt will get you killed. Learn to trust your instinct in the moment, not your societal taught perception of right and wrong. You are smart Granger, you don’t need a book to tell you what to do”.
Hermione bit her lip and observed him. He was standing in the knee length grass, dressed head to toe in what she assumed was his combat friendly outfit; A white long sleeve Henley was tucked into some sinfully form fitting black pants, a thick black belt holding everything in place. Over his white shirt was a tan leather shoulder holster with two compartments, one for his wand and the other for the concerningly large knife he had been sharpening upon her arrival. But the thing that caught her eye the most was the confidence in which he held himself, even standing still he looked lithe and deadly.
Hermione made up her mind on the spot. She felt like she had spent her whole life being afraid, always running, always hiding. She didn’t want to feel like prey anymore, she wanted to learn how to be the hunter.
“I’m staying” she said with convincingly more confidence than she felt.
“Good” Theo replied, taking in the sight of her outfit for the first time since she arrived. She tracked his eyes as they raked down her body, and she shivered against her will and instinctively wrapped her arms around her chest shyly.
“No” he said, walking forward and grasping her arms gently and pulling them back down to her sides. “To master physical combat, you need to learn to understand your body, to trust it, to love it. To be ashamed of your body is to not trust your body. When you are in the heat of battle, you will be relying on your body in a way you have never experienced, one wrong move equals death”.
Hermione tried to shut her brain off to the fire spreading through her veins at both his words and his hands on her arms, but felt her cheeks began getting hot regardless, and she twisted out of his grasp and turned around before he could see the color spreading over her face.
“These lessons will only be effective if you are practicing during your own time as well, so I brought these along so that I can give you assignments and coach you even when we aren’t here; homework, if you will” Theo said with a slight chuckle at his pun, and she could see him holding something out for her from the corner of her eye.
She turned to see that he was holding out a small black journal to her, and she met his eye with a confused look.
“This journal is the sister to an identical journal that I own, I used the protean charm, so that I can communicate instructions and assignments to you without raising suspicion from anyone around us” he said lightly.
Hermione couldn’t help herself, she burst out laughing, the irony was just too much. She had been given two charmed journals in the last few weeks alone, one from Harry Potter, the leader of the army of light, the chosen one. And the other one from a death eater.
Theo looked truly puzzled, which only fueled her laughter even more until she was doubled over. Her entire life had become so absurd, nearly overnight, and she felt like the reality of it had just fully dawned on her.
“Anything you would like to share with the class Granger?” Theo asked, looking both confused and slightly concerned.
Hermione stood back up, gasping for air as she tried to suppress the stubborn giggles.
“No, I’m fine. I’m sorry, as you were” she choked out between fits of laughter and grabbed the journal, shrank it down and pocketed it.
Theo eyed her with suspicion but moved on none the less.
“We will split our training sessions, one half will be devoted to learning and practicing dark magic and curses, the other half will be for learning physical combat. Understood?” he all but barked.
“Yes sir!” Hermione responded, still fighting off giggles. She had meant it as a joke, but the look he was giving her was anything but funny, and the giggle died on her lips instantly. His gaze had darkened, and his pupils had expanded, making his usually light eyes appear black. Her breath hitched and she felt warmth pooling in her navel. Something about the way the shadows danced across the sharp angles of his face in the moonlight gave him a sinister appearance, a fallen angel standing right in front of her.
Half of her wanted to walk up to him and press her lips to his, give in to the carnal hunger that had been burning rampant inside of her since the night she had first tasted him, and the other half of her, the logical half, wanted to flee.
Theo closed the gap between them while she stood, paralyzed by her own panic, and threaded his hands into the hair at the nape of her neck, and pulled down hard, angling her face up to his sharply. Their lips were so close that she could feel his breath ghosting against her tongue. She braced herself for him to kiss her but was perplexed when she felt him shove something into her hands instead, something cold and hard. She fought against his grip on her hair to look down in confusion and observed that he had placed a small silver blade into her hand. She looked back up at him in bewilderment and was even more alarmed to find that the corners of his lips had turned up ever so slightly in a sinister smile. He no longer looked like a fallen angel, but like Lucifer himself.
“Time for your first lesson Granger” he purred, lowering his face until he was resting his forehead against hers, almost in a loving way. Time seemed to standstill, and the sounds of the countryside at night faded away until all she could her was his breathing and her own.
“Now… be a good girl, and run” he whispered against her lips, and pushed her away from him, breaking the spell she had been under. As soon as she was free, she did exactly as he instructed and ran. This Theo was different from any version of him she had encountered thus far, and she was scared. This was not the Theo that had sacrificed himself to save his best friend, or the Theo that had whispered his mother’s name in the dark as he tried not to shatter into a thousand pieces. That Theo seemed to be lying dormant, replaced by something darker, a shadow figure that seemed to relish in her fear.
Hermione ran for the nearest tree line, and all but dove into the brush that surrounded the field. She could hear his feet against the dirt behind her, and she knew that if she slowed for even a second, he would catch up to her. Branches whipped her face as she sprinted, but the adrenaline pumping through her veins made her numb to the pain. Hermione realized she had been running in a straight line for a while and decided to switch directions to hopefully lose him in the maze of trees and underbrush.
She steered right and ran through a creek, ignoring the ice-cold water as it seeped through the seams of her boots, and after running for what felt like an eternity, she could no longer hear his footsteps behind her. Maybe she had managed to shake him.
She half leaned, half collapsed against a large boulder, gasping for air in an attempt to catch her breath. She had a stitch in her side, and she wasn’t sure if her calves had ever burned as much as they were in that moment.
Ignoring her screaming muscles, Hermione stood up straight and took in her surroundings. She must have run pretty far into the forest; all she could see was an endless sea of trees in every direction. The moonlight was streaming down through the branches, creating eerie dancing shadows on the muddy forest floor. The positive was that there was no sign of Theo, the negative was that she was completely lost.
A thick wall of mist was pushing its way through the forest towards her, and Hermione turned to walk in the opposite direction, not to keen on the idea of being lost and wet, but halted in her tracks when she noticed a wall of mist coming towards her from that direction as well. Fog banks move in a single direction like a wave, whatever this was, was not a fog bank.
The cold mist enveloped her, rendering her nearly blind, she could barely see her hand in front of her face. With the mist came an unsettling quiet, all she could hear was the sound of her beating heart and her breath; it was quite disorientating.
“You’ll have to do better than that Granger” a husky voice whispered in her ear.
Hermione whirled around, pulling her wand out of her pocket and pointing it towards the voice, only to find her wand facing empty air. Her eyes began frantically darting around trying to locate him in the mist, how was she supposed to fight back if she couldn’t even see him? With her wand in one hand, and the knife in the other, she slowly circled where she stood, terrified to let her guard down even for a second.
Then she heard it, a soft whooshing sound, like wind on water. Her eyes locked in on the source of the sound, a streak of black smoke was circling her, getting closer with each rotation. She knew what it was, she had witnessed the death eater preferred apparation technique back in 5th year during the battle at the Ministry of Magic.
Hermione shot a stunner at the black smoke, hoping to knock him mid-flight, but missed by mere inches. The smoke dove towards the ground, and there materialized Theo, the black vapor dripping off him and onto the forest floor. His shoulders were squared, and his feet were staggered, his wand already out and pointed towards Hermione.
Before she had time to react, he wordlessly shot a violent pink curse at her, which she barely managed to avoid by casting protego, not a second too soon.
“Diffindo” she yelled, slicing her wand arm through the air at him; but much to her dismay, he batted it away with his own shield like it was a mosquito. She started throwing stunners at him rapid fire, praying that at least one of them would land.
He avoided all of them with ease without even pulling up his own protego. He twisted and moved his body in a way that was very feline like, if she wasn’t so terrified she would have been mesmerized. She could tell that his body was made for combat; lanky and tall, but strong in a wiry sort of way. His reflexes were spectacular, the moment a stunner left the tip of her wand, his body was already moving, almost as if he could anticipate everything she did before she did it.
She finished off her barrage of stunners by throwing a bombarda at him, which he deflected with a swipe of his wand, sending the spell careening into a nearby tree that cracked in half upon impact and fell to the ground with a thunderous crash.
Distracted by the deafening crack of the tree, she missed the bolt of yellow light that Theo threw at her. The spell hit her square in the chest and sent her flying into the boulder behind her. Lights popped behind Hermione’s eyelids and she tasted blood in her mouth as she crumpled to the ground, and she felt her muscles give out as she dropped everything she had been holding.
She gritted her teeth as pain radiated from the back of her skull, only vaguely aware that Theo was casually walking towards her, his feet soft against the earth, so quiet she could barely hear him. He knelt in front of her, his face only inches away from hers. Hermione discreetly used her hand to rifle through the dead leaves littering the forest floor around her in search of her fallen wand while keeping her eyes trained on Theo and was ecstatic to feel her hand close around something solid, but instead of the smooth wood of her wand, she instead felt the cold metal of the knife. Without wasting anytime to contemplate the implications of what she was about to do, she gripped the handle of the blade and lunged at Theo.
Always one step ahead, he caught her wrist midair with his right hand and squeezed hard until she dropped the knife with a yelp, and using his opposite hand he drew his own knife from its sheath and brought it to her neck, pressing the sharpened edge against her skin just hard enough that she felt a bead of blood cascade down her clavicle. There they stood, Theo pinning Hermione against the rock, his knife flush against her jugular.
‘This is it’ Hermione thought, she had chosen to trust a death eater and she was going to pay for it. She was going to die in these woods, and she deserved it. She had betrayed her friends and knowingly allowed a death eater to walk free.
Instinctively Hermione wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear as he killed her, so instead she leveled him with her gaze as she waited for him to slice through the skin of her neck.
They stared at each other, face to face, the air thick with violence and tension, her muscles tensed as she waited for the pain she knew was coming.
But instead, he released her and took a step back, re-sheathed his blade, and knelt down to pick up both her fallen wand and blade and passed them back to her, which she accepted, slack jawed in shock. What the fuck was going on?
“Not bad” he praised, “I wasn’t expecting you to utilize anything other than your wand, so color me surprised. Your spell knowledge is dismal, and your combat skills nonexistent, but the instinct is there, though buried very deep underneath your elementary idea of right and wrong”.
Hermione just stared at him, completely lost.
“What the fuck are you playing at Nott?” she demanded after finally finding her voice.
Theo smirked, clearly he had been expecting this type of reaction from her. “If I’m going to train you, I have to know your skill level, as well as your strengths and weaknesses”.
Hermione’s temper flared; he was acting so cavalier about it when she had literally just been fighting for her life.
“And you couldn’t have just asked?” she yelled at him.
“No, people chronically either overestimate or underestimate their abilities, and your skill level in the classroom will be completely different than your skill level in a life-or-death situation. I had to test your knowledge, reflexes, and instincts in a scenario that imitates the type of combat we will be training for” he stated like it should be obvious.
Even though the logical part of Hermione knew that his reasoning was fairly sound, she was still seeing red. He was so unpredictable, she never knew his intentions, and it was infuriating. ‘But it’s also what makes him exciting’ a little voice in the back of her head whispered.
“And what do you mean my spell knowledge is dismal? I’ve received some of the highest marks for 6 consecutive years” she demanded to know, crossing her arms in anger. If there was anything Hermione hated, it was being spoken down to.
“Grades don’t count for shit Granger, Hogwarts has been using the same curriculum for over 160 years, for every classroom taught spell you use, any semi-educated death eater will know the counter for. You need to look outside of the curriculum if you really want to survive, the obscurer the spell, the less likely your opponent will know how to block or counter”.
Hermione looked down at the dirt as she considered his words, he really had a point, as much as she hated to admit. She didn’t know a single spell that she hadn’t learned from a Hogwarts professor, except for maybe sectumsempra, but even that she had technically learned from one of her teachers. Theo belonged to one of the most prominent families in the sacred twenty eight, he was bound to know countless spells and curses that had been passed down from generation to generation that had never made it into the Hogwarts curriculum. Yes, most of them were probably dark magic or perhaps even blood magic, but with the war looming closely ahead of her, the cost suddenly seemed worth the pay off.
The devil is real. And he’s not a little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful, because he’s a fallen angel, and he used to be Gods favorite.
Hermione looked back up at him, her anger eclipsed by her hunger for knowledge; If the price of winning this war was making a deal with the devil, then she would walk into those flames willingly with a smile on her face.
Perhaps she was going too far referring to Theo as the devil, she certainly didn’t believe him to be evil, but she wouldn’t classify him as good either. He seemed to walk this line between light and dark, as if balancing on a blades edge, waiting for a strong wind to push him one way or another. Was she fool enough to believe that she could influence which? No. But she could learn as much as possible from him before he fell from that precipice.
“I’m in” she stated, staring into those icy blue eyes with excitement, and she swore she saw a flash of triumph on his face before his expression cooled and he nodded his head passively.
“Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday then, same place, same time” he instructed and began walking away from her. Hermione scampered after him, not keen on getting lost in these woods. His legs were so long that she was nearly jogging just to keep up, and she couldn’t help herself from observing him as they walked through the forest. The muscles in his back and biceps were pronounced under the white fabric of his shirt that complimented his Italian olive skin, and he had the slightest bit of sweat sticking to his fringe on the back of his neck. She could see a thin gold chain peeking out from the back of his henley, but whatever it was he had it tucked in. She let her mind wander to the memory of how smooth his skin had felt under her hands, the way his muscles had rippled every time he had thrusted into her, and the way his cock had filled her almost to the point of pain, such delicious pain. Her quickly darkening thoughts were reigniting the fire she had felt just under the surface of her skin ever since he had first touched her that night in the library.
She was so caught up in her naughty daydreams that she hadn’t even noticed that they had reached the cliffs edge again, and she walked straight into his back when he stopped in front of her, knocking her backwards.
Before her butt hit the ground, he had swiveled and caught her by her arms and pulled her back up to a standing position, but the maneuver left them standing chest to chest; his hands still wrapped around her upper arms.
She looked up at him as he towered over her, intending to thank him, but her breath hitched in her throat when she met his eyes. Something about him always took her breath away, maybe it was the intensity of his gaze, or maybe it was his smell, but whatever it was always left her flustered and hot. All of her senses were flooded with him, and It didn’t help that he wasn’t backing away or letting go of her arms.
His eyes flickered to her lips, and Hermione knew that if she didn’t stop this now, he was going to kiss her, and oh god did she want him to, but she knew it was a bad idea, so using every bit of internal strength she had, she broke eye contact and went to hand back the silver blade he had passed her earlier.
“Here” she said, her voice slightly shaky, which she was sure he would notice.
He looked down at the knife for a moment, the spell officially broken. He turned and made his way back over to the tree stump he had been sitting on upon her arrival and reached behind it, pulling out a knapsack that she hadn’t seen before. He reached into the bag and pulled out a small strap looking thing and walked back over and held it out to her.
“Keep it” he instructed, “you will need it during our training sessions anyway”.
She took the leather that he was offering to her and observed it. It was a small knife sheath, clearly the sheath for the knife he had given her, and it was attached to some kind of holster, but it looked too small to be a shoulder holster like his.
She looked up at him with confusion, and suddenly his gaze was wary. “It’s a thigh holster” he clarified, a slight awkwardness in his tone. She didn’t think he was very comfortable doing nice things, it was probably frowned upon In his family.
He got down on one knee and motioned for her to pass the holster to him, then reached around her thigh and buckled the strap, adjusting it until it was snug. He gave it a few test pulls to ensure that it wouldn’t slide down, and satisfied he stood back up and looked her over.
Hermione couldn’t help but feel self-conscious again, she had spent most of her life in a library, and now she was wearing skintight combat clothes, and a thigh holster with a blade in it.
“I must look ridiculous” she muttered.
“You look sexy Granger” he mused.
Her first instinct was to bark out a laugh, but the way he was looking at her made her consider that maybe he wasn’t joking. He looked hungry.
“See you Thursday then Nott?” she practically yelled, desperate to break the tension before they had another slip up that they wouldn’t be able to take back.
Theo cleared his throat. “Yes, and keep an eye on the journal Granger, I will be giving you assignments to aid your training”.
She nodded and he disappeared with a soft pop. For a while she just stared at the place where he stood only moments before. She still wasn’t sure that this arrangement with him wasn’t a mistake, but she was in too deep now, she needed to see it through. With a sigh she apparated after him back to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds and made her way back to their shared dorm. When she opened up the door to their living room, Theo had already retreated back to his room, and a part of her felt relieved, she had been resisting temptation for hours and she was exhausted.
She made her way into her room and started stripping off the ridiculous outfit he had required her to wear, throwing the knife, sheath, and journal onto the bed and turned to rid herself of the rest of her clothes. Her shirt was off when a thought popped into her head. She turned around to look at the Journal with curiosity and made her way over to the bed where it lay on her comforter. He had said to keep an eye on the journal she mused.
Hermione flipped open the journal to the first page and felt a rush of excitement trickle through her when she saw his elegant handwriting appearing on the page. The paragraph was only half finished and was updating in real time as he wrote in his own journal. It was so bizarre, he was one room away, but seeing him writing instructions to her was making her excited. She really needed to visit a muggle therapist after term is over, she thought to herself with a chuckle.
The writing stopped, and she picked up the journal to read the assignment he had left for her.
“Your need to work on your self-esteem, you will never master the art of war if you are constantly at war with your own body. The first step to coming to terms with your body is knowing your body”.
Hermione gulped, she had a feeling she knew where this was going,
“Take off your clothes, all of them, even your knickers, and stand in front of the floor length mirror you have standing next to your dresser. You are to look at yourself, really look at yourself”.
Hermione stared at the writing, how was this supposed to help her come to terms with her body? Even though she was confused, she felt compelled to heed his instructions, he had such a commanding way about him, even in writing.
Hermione turned to the mirror and looked at her reflection. Her hair was slightly messy from the night’s activities, and her face was still flush from exertion. ‘Here goes nothing’ she thought as she wiggled out of the ridiculously tight pants and tossed them to the corner of her room. She turned back to the glass, now clad in only her bra and cotton knickers. Squeezing her eyes shut, she unclasped her bra and slipped it from her shoulders, and then hooked her fingers in the waist band of her panties and pulled them down to the floor before kicking them off.
Hermione opened her eyes and warily looked at her reflection, turning this way and that to see herself from different angles. The first thing that stood out to her was the spectacular bruise that was forming on her back from Theo’s spell knocking her into the boulder, and the thin line of dried blood running from her neck to clavicle from Theo’s knife pressing into her jugular.
Looking past those things, her eyes gravitated to her breasts. She had always been self-conscious about them, she always felt they were too big for her frame, but she knew that the purpose of this exercise was to change the way she saw herself, so she closed her eyes and took a big breath.
Hermione remembered the hungry expression on Theo’s face earlier, and an idea struck her. ‘Pretend you are looking at yourself through Theo’s eyes’ she told herself. Perhaps it would help her see herself in a different light.
She opened her eyes again and looked back at her breast, they were well rounded and perky, her nipples pebbling against the cool air of her bedroom. She pictured Theo slipping his mouth over one of her nipples and sucking gently, drawing the bud in between his teeth and clamping down softly as he rolled the other one with his fingers simultaneously. The thought sent a bolt of electricity straight to Hermione’s clit and she moaned softly to herself and bit her lip in worry, she shouldn’t be entertaining thoughts like this when she was trying to keep things between them friendly.
‘But what’s the harm in a little fantasizing’ her subconscious whispered In her ear, ‘especially if it helps you learn to love your body’.
Hermione let her gaze shift to her hips, always too wide In her opinion, now seemed to accentuate the slimness of her waist when she pictured Theo’s hands gripping her in place as he lined himself up at her entrance.
Her eyes flickered down to her vagina, which she had never put much thought into at all. Up until very recently, she had been a virgin and had never spent much time thinking about herself down there. She reached down and slipped her middle finger between her folds, feeling the wetness in between. She slipped her pointer finger in as well and used to the two fingers to splay open her lips and she took in the sight of her pussy for what felt like the very first time. It looked so small, and she couldn’t fathom how Theo had managed to fit himself inside of her. She remembered the way he had had tilted her head down to look at their connected bodies, and the shock she had felt watching her tight pussy engulf him pump after pump. The memories had Hermione dripping down her own thigh by now.
She walked back over to the Journal to find that he had added another short sentence.
“Are you looking?” was all it said.
Hermione bit her lip again, why was she so turned on? The idea that he was only feet away and thinking of her was driving her wild. She grabbed a quill from her desk and scribbled her reply, feeling bold.
“Yes” she replied, waiting to see his response.
“Good girl” came his reply in his elegant handwriting.
Hermione moaned out loud again; this man was going to be the death of her.
She made her way back to her mirror, noticing how her skin was significantly more flushed that when she had first glanced at her reflection. Her lips where parted and she was breathing heavily, and when she looked into her own eyes, she realized her pupils were dilated and she wore the same expression that Theo had been wearing in the woods. Hunger. And for the first time since he had called her sexy earlier that day, did she start to consider that maybe it had been the truth. The version of her that she was looking at right now, she didn’t hate.
Hermione sat on the edge of her bed, never taking her eyes off herself in the mirror, and leaned back, supporting her weight on her elbows. She scooted back until she had enough room to lift her legs onto the bed, and then spread them as wide as she could, using her heels to hold her splayed legs in place.
She drank in the site of her splayed pussy in the mirror, little droplets of moisture dripping down her lips and onto her bed. She experimentally slipped her middle and pointer finger through her folds, gathering some of the moisture and spreading it over her clit, sending little jolts of electricity throughout her body. She had never done much masturbating, she had never felt like she had the time, she had always been studying to help Harry and Ron.
Hermione decided to try something she never had before. She reached her other hand in between her legs as well, and inserted two fingers into her cunt, surprised to find that they slid inside without any resistance. She had never fingered herself before.
She began circling her clit with her other hand, slowly at first but picking up the pace slightly when she felt the pleasure coursing through her. Once she had a good rhythm, she started pumping the fingers in her cunt in as far as she could reach before pulling out all the way and diving back in. The movement created an obscene squelching noise that would have made her die of shame if she wasn’t so turned on.
She watched herself closely in the mirror as she touched herself, fascinated by the way her eyes went in and out of focus; entranced by the sounds escaping her lips. She pictured Theo over her, pounding into her as she scratched at his back until he bled, begging him to cum inside of her.
She could feel her orgasm approaching, and she watched in the mirror as her body started twitching and her cunt began squeezing her fingers in pulsing waves. She couldn’t stop the loud moan that escaped her mouth as she was flooded with ecstasy as her orgasm violently ripped through her body. She felt wetness flood out of her and over her fingers as she came, soaking through her bedspread.
Hermione laid still for several moments, letting the aftershocks of her orgasm die out before she turned to the journal lying a few inches away from her in bed, looking down at script forming on the page of her journal.
“Sounds like you enjoyed your homework”.