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Chapter 20 (Professor Garlick's Private Tutoring), Chapter 21 (Between Greenhouse Shadows and Hospital Light), Chapter 22 (The Price of Loyalty), Chapter 23 (Crossing The Red Line), Chapter 24 (The Price of Justice), Chapter 25 (Professors and Puppeteers), Chapter 26 (The Flesh Is Merciful), and Chapter 27 (Hogsmeade, Honeydukes, and Heartache) are already available for Patrons.
The Gryffindor Tower stood silent save for the occasional snore and rustle of bedsheets. Moonlight filtered through the dormitory windows, casting long shadows across the stone floor as Hermione trudged up the spiral staircase, her mind heavy with secrets. The confrontation with Draco would have to wait—her body was screaming for rest after another day of juggling academic excellence with sexual discovery and magical mystery.
"Lumos," she whispered, holding her wand low to avoid waking her roommates. The soft blue glow illuminated the sleeping forms of Lavender and Parvati, their faces peaceful in slumber. Parvati's arm dangled off her bed, fingers curled around a divination text she'd been reading before sleep claimed her.
Hermione's gaze drifted to Ginny's bed, finding it conspicuously empty, sheets disturbed but unoccupied. A familiar twinge of possessiveness flared in her chest. Was Ginny with Harry? The thought sent an unwelcome spike of jealousy through her, followed immediately by guilt. Harry had confided his feelings for Ginny, unaware that Hermione had already tasted every inch of the redhead's freckled body.
"Complicated doesn't begin to cover it," she muttered to herself, gathering her shower things. Her cock strained uncomfortably against her knickers, seemingly perpetually half-hard these days. Between Susan's enthusiastic library session and Luna's celestial ride at the Astronomy Tower, her body had grown accustomed to regular release.
But it wasn't just physical relief she craved. Draco's possession of that green-glowing vial haunted her thoughts.
"Was it you, Malfoy?" she whispered to the empty air. "Did you curse me? Turn me into... this?" She glanced down at the bulge beneath her skirt. Even now, she couldn't decide if it was truly a curse or an unexpected gift.
The bathroom beckoned with promises of hot water to soothe her troubled mind. She padded across the cold floor.
Steam greeted Hermione as she pushed open the heavy bathroom door, indicating someone was already using the facilities. The Gryffindor girls' bathroom had multiple shower cabinets lined against one wall, each enchanted for maximum privacy and comfort. Unlike the prefects' bathroom with its swimming pool-sized tub, these were designed for efficiency, though no less luxurious.
"Hello?" Hermione called softly, receiving no response. The sound of running water echoed off the marble tiles. Someone was definitely in here.
She approached the occupied shower cabinet, noticing a trail of hastily discarded clothes—a Gryffindor tie, a white blouse, and a familiar skirt. Ginny's skirt. So she wasn't with Harry after all.
Through the frosted glass of the shower cabinet, Hermione could make out a blur of movement and a splash of red hair. Ginny was washing her hair, completely unaware of Hermione's presence. For a moment, Hermione considered retreating, giving her friend privacy, but something kept her rooted to the spot. The need for answers, perhaps. Or something more exciting.
The past weeks had transformed her in more ways than physically. The old Hermione would have respectfully backed away, nose buried in a book about magical transformations. The new Hermione—the one with a magnificent cock and growing sexual confidence—felt a surge of boldness.
"Two paths," she whispered to herself, fingering her wand thoughtfully. "Back to bed with my questions, or..."
Her cock throbbed as if casting its vote. Images of Ginny's naked body flashed through her mind—the constellation of freckles across her shoulders, the way her back arched when Hermione hit just the right spot inside her, those soft lips that had wrapped around Hermione's cock with surprising skill.
But it wasn't just lust driving her. The confusion of seeing Ginny with Harry, the uncertainty of where they all stood with each other, the frustration of Draco's smirking face when he'd slipped into the Room of Requirement with that damning vial—it all swirled together into a potent cocktail of need.
"Fuck it," Hermione muttered, unbuttoning her blouse with trembling fingers. She stripped methodically, folding each garment out of habit before placing it on a nearby bench. Her cock sprang free, already hardening in anticipation. She caught a glimpse of herself in one of the mirrors—wild-haired, naked, her new appendage jutting proudly from between her thighs. The sight no longer shocked her as it once had.
She approached the shower cabinet, heart hammering against her ribs. Steam billowed around her naked form as she slid the glass door open just enough to slip inside, then closed it behind her with a soft click.
Ginny stood with her back to the door, head tilted back as water cascaded over her fiery hair, plastering it to her pale, freckled skin. Her hands moved in slow circles over her breasts, fingers occasionally pinching her nipples. She was humming softly—a Weird Sisters tune that had been popular last term.
Hermione's throat went dry at the sight. Ginny's body was athletic, her waist narrow, her ass perfectly rounded. Droplets of water traced paths down the curve of her spine, disappearing between her cheeks.
The decision was made. Hermione drew her wand, casting a quick "Silencio" around the cabinet before placing it carefully on a small shelf designed for toiletries. The spell would ensure their conversation—and whatever followed—remained private.
"Room for one more?" Hermione asked softly, her voice barely audible over the rushing water.
Ginny spun around, water cascading down her freckled body, her expression momentarily startled. Her hand instinctively reached for a wand that wasn't there, but recognition dawned instantly. The surprise in her brown eyes melted into something darker.
"Well, well," Ginny purred, lowering her arms to reveal small, perfect breasts tipped with dusky pink nipples hardened by the contrast of hot water and the brief rush of cooler air. "Was wondering how long you'd stand out there."
Hermione stepped inside, sliding the door shut behind her. "You knew I was there?"
"I always know when you're near," Ginny replied, her eyes dropping unabashedly to Hermione's erection. "Something about the way the air changes."
The hot water hit Hermione's back, plastering her wild curls to her neck and shoulders. The spray created rivulets that traced the curves of her body, highlighting the contrast between her feminine form and the rigid cock that now stood proudly between them.
"Are you here to fuck me, Hermione?" Ginny asked bluntly, droplets clinging to her long eyelashes as she blinked water from her eyes.
Hermione shook her head, though her body clearly disagreed with the denial. "I need to talk to you, Gin. What's happening between us?"
Ginny sighed, turning to face the spray directly, letting it pound against her freckled shoulders. The water sculpted paths down the elegant curve of her spine, disappearing between the tight globes of her ass. It was deliberately provocative, and they both knew it.
"Pass the soap, would you?" Ginny asked, extending a hand backward without turning.
Hermione reached for the honeysuckle-scented bar, their fingers brushing in a way that sent electricity up her arm. "Don't avoid the question."
Ginny lathered her shoulders slowly, bubbles sliding down to outline the subtle curves of her body. "I like you, Hermione. That hasn't changed."
"But?" Hermione pressed, stepping closer, the heat between them having nothing to do with the steaming water.
"But you want to know if I like Harry more," Ginny said, finally turning back to face her, their bodies now inches apart in the confined space. "Harry is... he's good. Kind. Someone I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my days with."
The words stung more than Hermione had anticipated. She knew she should be happy for her best friend and the girl before her, but a possessive anger flickered in her chest. Her cock twitched between them, betraying her mixed emotions.
"I see," Hermione managed, her voice tight.
Ginny's soapy hand reached out, trailing bubbles across Hermione's collarbone. "I've always liked Harry, Hermione. That's never been a secret. The way he stepped up against Umbridge last year..." She bit her lower lip. "It only made me want him more."
Hermione caught Ginny's wrist, halting the teasing touch. "So everything with us has just been... fun? A diversion until you get what you really want?"
"Fuck, no," Ginny said, her bluntness cutting through the rising tension. "I should have been more specific." She stepped closer, their wet bodies now touching, Hermione's cock pressed against Ginny's flat stomach. "I want you both."
The water pounded against them as Hermione processed this. "Both?"
"Is that so hard to imagine?" Ginny asked, her lips quirking into a mischievous smile. "You're bloody brilliant and sexy as hell with this new addition." She emphasized her point by rolling her stomach against Hermione's erection.
"I understand," Hermione said, trying to ignore the pleasure of the contact. "It was foolish of me to think this would last—"
Ginny cut her off with a finger against her lips. "You're not listening, Granger. We can always do this together again." Her eyes sparkled with wicked intent as she added, "We could even invite Harry."
Hermione couldn't help rolling her eyes, even as her pulse quickened at the suggestion. "Harry's not into cocks, Ginny."
"True enough," Ginny agreed, her hand slipping between them to wrap around Hermione's shaft, causing her to gasp. "But we could both fuck me together. You from behind while I suck him off. Or you could watch while he takes me, then have your turn."
The images flashed unbidden through Hermione's mind, causing her cock to throb in Ginny's grip. "I... that's not something I've considered," she admitted, though the thought was undeniably arousing. "Besides, I haven't even told Harry or Ron about..." She gestured downward.
"Have you told Harry yet?" Ginny asked, her thumb circling the sensitive head of Hermione's cock.
Hermione shook her head, water spraying from her soaked curls. "How could I? 'Oh, by the way, Harry, I've grown a cock and I've been shagging your crush.' That would go brilliantly."
Ginny laughed, the sound echoing off the tiled walls despite the silencing spell. "Harry won't look at you any differently," she assured her, continuing her slow, torturous stroking. "I can't promise anything about my idiot brother, but Harry... he'll still see you as his friend."
Hermione's hips involuntarily pushed forward into Ginny's touch. "You really think so?"
"I know so," Ginny nodded, leaning forward to press a kiss to Hermione's neck, just below her ear. "Speaking of your various conquests, how are things with Luna?"
The shift in topic, combined with the continued stimulation, made Hermione's head swim. She giggled, the sound strange even to her own ears. "Luna's a very good friend. And a good lover. I still feel terrible for how I treated her initially."
"Luna's forgiven you," Ginny murmured against her skin. "She wouldn't let you fuck her if she hadn't." She pulled back, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. "And what about Susan Bones? I've seen how you look at her in the Great Hall."
Hermione couldn't suppress her blush, which had nothing to do with the hot water. "Susan isn't as gentle in bed as she is in everything else."
Ginny's eyes widened comically. "You fucked her already?!" Her hand momentarily stopped its motion. "Merlin's saggy balls, Hermione! When?"
"Library," Hermione admitted, suddenly feeling quite proud of herself. "Two days ago."
"And?" Ginny prompted eagerly, her hand resuming its teasing strokes. "How were those magnificent tits of hers? They're legendary, even the girls talk about them."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're not into girls, Ginny Weasley?"
Ginny laughed. "Every girl is into girls with breasts like Susan's." She leaned closer, water dripping from her nose as she whispered, "Tell me everything."
Hermione leaned back against the tiled wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to her heated skin. "It was after hours," she began, watching how Ginny's eyes darkened with interest. "I was researching—"
"Of course you were," Ginny interrupted with a smirk.
"Do you want to hear this or not?" Hermione challenged.
Ginny made a show of sealing her lips, though her eyes danced with amusement.
"As I was saying," Hermione continued, "I was in the back corner by the Restricted Section. Susan came in looking for a Transfiguration text." She paused, remembering. "She caught me staring at her."
"I'm not surprised," Ginny murmured, her free hand coming up to cup her own breast, as if comparing it to Susan's more ample endowment. "What happened next?"
Hermione's confidence swelled at Ginny's obvious fascination. "She asked if I liked what I saw. I couldn't even deny it." The memory sent fresh blood rushing to her groin, making her throb in Ginny's hand. "Next thing I knew, she was pressing against me, feeling my cock through my skirt."
"Fuck," Ginny breathed, her nipples visibly hardening further. "Sweet, shy Susan Bones?"
"Not so shy after all," Hermione said with a newly confident grin. "She backed me into the stacks and dropped to her knees right there, between History of Magic and Ancient Runes."
Ginny's hand faltered in its rhythm, her own breathing becoming more pronounced. "She sucked you off in the library? That's..."
"Mental?" Hermione supplied.
"Hot," Ginny corrected, licking water from her lips. "Did you finish in her mouth?"
Hermione nodded with her head, sending droplets flying. "That was just the beginning. I bent her over the study table afterward."
Ginny's eyes widened. "You didn't!"
"I did," Hermione confirmed, unable to keep the pride from her voice. "I lifted her skirt, pushed her knickers aside, and fucked her until she had to bite her own lips to keep from screaming."
"Salazar's snake," Ginny swore, clearly impressed. "Anyone could have walked in!"
"That's what made it so exciting," Hermione admitted. Her hand covered Ginny's, guiding it to a slower pace, prolonging their shared moment. "She kept begging me to go deeper, harder. I had my hand over her mouth at one point."
The redhead shifted, pressing her thighs together in a way that made it clear Hermione's story was having quite an effect. "And her tits? Did you...?"
"Of course I did," Hermione said, gently removing Ginny's hand from her cock before the stimulation became too much. "I unbuttoned her blouse and freed them from her bra. They're even more magnificent than they look under her uniform."
"That's saying something," Ginny muttered.
"Heavy, but still perfectly shaped," Hermione continued, enjoying the flush spreading across Ginny's chest that had nothing to do with the hot water.
Ginny unconsciously touched her own nipple. "Did you, um..." She trailed off, uncharacteristically hesitant.
"Suck them?" Hermione supplied, growing bolder with each moment of Ginny's obvious arousal. "Until she was whimpering. They taste sweet, somehow."
The water continued to cascade over them, but neither girl noticed its slowly decreasing temperature. Ginny's teeth caught her bottom lip, worrying it in a way that Hermione suddenly found irresistible.
"She returned the favor," Hermione added, stepping closer so that her cock brushed against Ginny's flat stomach once more. "After I made her come, she laid me back on the table and straddled my face while she sucked me."
"Sixty-nine?" Ginny's voice had dropped an octave. "In the library? Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?"
Hermione laughed, the sound richocheting off the tiled walls. "That's the question, isn't it? Who am I now?" She gestured to her transformed body. "This has changed me, Gin. Not just physically."
Ginny's expression softened momentarily. "I've noticed. You carry yourself differently." Her hand reached up to tuck a wet strand of hair behind Hermione's ear in a surprisingly tender gesture. "More confident, less wound-up."
"Less wound-up?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I've been fucking half the girls in our year!"
"Exactly," Ginny grinned wickedly. "You've finally found a way to release all that tension you've been carrying around. It looks good on you."
Hermione couldn't help but return the smile. "It feels good," she admitted. "Though I do wonder sometimes if this is really me, or if it's just the... addition... changing my personality."
"Does it matter?" Ginny asked, trailing her fingers down Hermione's chest between her small breasts, circling each nipple teasingly. "You're happier, aren't you?"
Hermione considered this. "I am," she realized with some surprise. "Despite everything—the mystery, the secrecy—I'm actually happier."
"Then maybe this is who you were meant to be all along," Ginny suggested, her philosophical side emerging unexpectedly. "Maybe you just needed permission to explore this part of yourself."
The water temperature dropped suddenly, eliciting twin yelps from both girls as they pressed together instinctively for warmth.
"Fucking ancient plumbing," Ginny cursed, reaching behind Hermione to adjust the tap. Her movement pushed her breasts against Hermione's, their nipples brushing in a way that sent electricity down Hermione's spine.
The water returned to a comfortable warmth, but neither girl moved apart. Hermione found herself staring at the water droplets clinging to Ginny's eyelashes, at the constellation of freckles across the bridge of her nose.
"You didn't finish telling me about Luna," Ginny said softly, her breath mingling with Hermione's in the small space between them.
Hermione's hand found Ginny's hip, steadying her. "Luna is... special," she said carefully. "I was horrible to her at first. Dismissive. But she saw through me somehow."
Ginny nodded. "Luna sees everyone clearly. It's unnerving sometimes."
"She forgave me so easily," Hermione continued, her thumb tracing small circles on Ginny's hip bone. "After the way I treated her, she should have hexed me, but instead..."
"Instead, she let you fuck her brains out," Ginny finished with a knowing smirk.
Hermione's cheeks heated beyond what the shower could explain. "It wasn't like that. With Luna, it's different. Gentler. More..."
"Loving?" Ginny supplied, no judgment in her tone.
"Yes," Hermione admitted. "But different from how I feel with you, too."
Ginny's eyes softened. "How do you feel with me, then?"
Hermione considered this, her cock still pressed insistently between them. "Fiery. Competitive. Like we're constantly challenging each other."
"And with Susan?"
"Pure lust," Hermione answered without hesitation. "Uncomplicated physical attraction."
Ginny nodded sagely. "And you need all three. The connection with Luna, the passionate competition with me, and the lust with Susan." Her fingers traced the outline of Hermione's collarbone. "You've become quite the connoisseur of women, Hermione Granger."
Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Just weeks ago, she'd been solely focused on academics, with romance an afterthought at best. Now here she was, discussing her multiple female lovers with the sister of one of her best friends, while sporting an erection that showed no signs of flagging despite the lengthy conversation.
"I suppose I have," she agreed, her hands finding Ginny's waist more firmly. "And speaking of which..." She let the implication hang in the steamy air between them.
Ginny's smile turned predatory once more. "Yes, speaking of which," she echoed, her hand returning to Hermione's cock. "I believe we've done enough talking for now, don't you?"
Hermione was about to say something clever when a gasp escaped her lips instead. Ginny's fingers had wrapped around her cock with practiced confidence, the sensation sending jolts of electricity up her spine. The water cascading over them seemed to amplify every touch, making her nerve endings sing with sensitivity.
This is what power feels like, Hermione thought, though she wasn't certain who held it in this moment—herself, or Ginny with her knowing touch.
"Christmas is coming soon," Ginny said conversationally, as if her hand wasn't currently performing slow, measured strokes that made Hermione's knees threaten to buckle. "Five days later, we'll be heading back to the Burrow." Her grip tightened slightly on the upstroke, pulling a throaty moan from Hermione. "Where Fleur Delacour is staying."
Hermione's mind, usually so sharp and focused, struggled to follow the conversation through the haze of pleasure. The mention of Fleur, however, cut through the fog. The quarter-Veela's ethereal beauty had affected even her back during the Triwizard Tournament.
"Fleur?" she managed, her voice embarrassingly breathy. She braced one hand against the slick tile wall, water streaming down her arm. The droplets seemed to trace patterns across her skin, each one a tiny point of heightened sensation.
Ginny nodded, freckles dancing across her nose as she smiled mischievously. "Mmhmm. Gorgeous, isn't she? Even I can appreciate that, and I can't stand her personality."
Hermione's hips moved involuntarily, seeking more friction as Ginny's strokes slowed to a torturous pace. The steam swirled around them, making it difficult to distinguish where the shower's heat ended and her own began.
"It's—" Hermione paused, swallowing as Ginny's thumb circled the sensitive head of her cock with just the right pressure. "It's a bit concerning that you want me to fuck your brother's girlfriend."
Ginny's laugh was musical, echoing off the tiles. "Bill's a playboy," she said dismissively, her free hand tracing patterns across Hermione's hip. Each touch sent shivers across Hermione's skin, goosebumps rising despite the heat. "Did you know he's already fucking some witch from the Ministry? Some curse-breaking colleague."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain some semblance of composure as Ginny's hand worked its magic. "How would you know that?"
"Overheard Mum and Dad talking," Ginny replied, leaning closer so her breasts brushed against Hermione's. The contact of their nipples sent a jolt straight to Hermione's groin, making her cock pulse in Ginny's hand. "Besides, he's probably just boasting to his friends about fucking a Veela anyway."
The water began to cool slightly, but Hermione barely noticed. Her entire focus had narrowed to the points where Ginny's body connected with hers—hand on cock, breasts against breasts, breath mingling in the humid air between them.
I should be outraged on Fleur's behalf, Hermione thought distantly. Being talked about like an object, a trophy. Yet she couldn't summon the righteous indignation, not with Ginny's talented fingers stoking the fire within her.
"You really think she'd be interested?" Hermione heard herself ask, surprising even herself with the question. The old Hermione would never have entertained such thoughts, but the new Hermione—the one with a throbbing nine inches of unexpected addition—found herself intrigued by the challenge.
"In this?" Ginny emphasized her point with a firm stroke that nearly made Hermione's eyes roll back. "Definitely."
Hermione filed this information away, her analytical mind never completely shutting off even as her body responded to Ginny's increasingly insistent rhythm. The water plastered Ginny's fiery hair to her neck and shoulders, making her look like some kind of water nymph—wild and untamed.
"I'll... consider it," Hermione managed, her breath coming in shorter gasps now. "But first—" In a move that surprised both of them, she grasped Ginny's wrist, halting her ministrations. The sudden cessation of pleasure was almost painful, but the look of shock on Ginny's face was worth it.
"First?" Ginny prompted, eyes widening as Hermione used her slightly taller frame to reverse their positions, pressing Ginny against the tiled wall.
The cool tiles against her palms grounded Hermione, giving her a moment of clarity through the fog of desire. Steam continued to billow around them, but something had shifted. For the first time since her transformation, Hermione felt truly in control—not just of her body, but of the situation.
"First, I'm going to fuck you," Hermione stated, the crude declaration sending a thrill through her own body. She'd never spoken like this before her transformation. Now, the words felt right on her tongue, powerful and true.
Ginny's pupils dilated, nearly eclipsing the warm brown of her irises. "Is that so?" she challenged, though her quickened breathing betrayed her excitement.
"It is," Hermione confirmed, suddenly aware of every point of contact between them—her cock pressed against Ginny's stomach, their breasts brushing with each breath, her hands on either side of Ginny's head, caging her in.
This is what it means to take charge, Hermione thought, the realization both exhilarating and grounding.
Without further preamble, Hermione leaned forward and captured Ginny's lips with her own. The kiss was different from their previous encounters—where before there had been playfulness or mutual exploration, now there was clear intent. Hermione led, and for once, Ginny followed.
Ginny tasted of spearmint toothpaste and something uniquely her—a hint of treacle tart from dinner, perhaps. Hermione deepened the kiss, her tongue seeking entrance which Ginny readily granted. The sensation of dominance was intoxicating, heady as firewhiskey but without the loss of control. Rather, Hermione felt more in command of herself than she had in weeks.
Her hands moved from the wall to Ginny's body, tracing the contours of her athletic frame with newfound confidence, cupping the underside of Ginny's small breasts, feeling their perfect weight in her palms. The redhead's nipples hardened further at her touch, eliciting a moan that Hermione swallowed with their ongoing kiss.
The water continued its relentless cascade, heightening every sensation. Hermione could feel each droplet as it traced paths down her back, could track their journey as they carved rivers between her shoulder blades, down the curve of her spine, over the swell of her buttocks.
Breaking the kiss, Hermione moved her attention to Ginny's neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin just below her ear. Ginny tilted her head, offering better access, a small submission that sent a jolt of satisfaction through Hermione.
"Tell me what you want," Hermione demanded against Ginny's throat, feeling the pulse jump beneath her lips. The redhead's skin tasted of soap and salt.
"You," Ginny breathed, her usual sarcasm and teasing nowhere to be found. "Inside me. Now."
The directness of the request sent a surge of blood to Hermione's cock, making it throb almost painfully. But where once she might have rushed to comply, now she took her time, savoring her newfound control.
"Not yet," she murmured, her hands continuing their exploration. She traced the lean muscles of Ginny's abdomen, developed from years of Quidditch training, then lower to the junction of her thighs. "First, I want to feel how wet you are—from want, not just the shower."
Ginny's breath hitched as Hermione's fingers found their target, sliding easily through slick folds that had nothing to do with the water raining down on them.
I did this, she thought with satisfaction. Me, not Harry, not anyone else. Just me.
"Turn around," Hermione commanded, surprising herself with the authority in her voice. More surprising still was how quickly Ginny complied, spinning to face the tile wall without hesitation.
The sight of Ginny's back—strong shoulder blades tapering to a narrow waist, then flaring to hips spattered with faint freckles—nearly undid Hermione's resolve to take things slowly. The redhead's hair, darkened by water to a deep auburn, clung to her neck in tendrils that Hermione longed to brush aside to kiss the nape beneath.
She did just that, stepping closer until her front pressed against Ginny's back, her cock nestled in the cleft of the younger girl's ass. The contact drew simultaneous moans from both of them. Hermione's lips found Ginny's neck as promised, teeth grazing the sensitive skin where it met her shoulder.
"Spread your legs," she instructed, her voice barely recognizable to her own ears—lower, huskier than she'd ever heard it. Again, Ginny obeyed without question, widening her stance as much as the shower cabinet would allow.
This is power, Hermione thought again, more certain this time.
Reaching around, Hermione's fingers returned to their exploration, finding Ginny even wetter than before. The angle was different this way, allowing her to slide two fingers inside while her palm pressed against Ginny's most sensitive point. The redhead bucked against her hand, seeking more friction.
"Patience," Hermione admonished, nipping at Ginny's earlobe. The shower's spray had begun to cool noticeably, but neither girl paid it any mind, their bodies generating more than enough heat to compensate.
"Fuck patience," Ginny gasped, pushing back against Hermione's cock insistently. "I want you inside me. Now."
The demand, despite its phrasing, was actually a plea—one that Hermione found herself unable to resist any longer. Withdrawing her fingers, she positioned herself at Ginny's entrance, the blunt head of her cock pressing against slick heat.
This is really happening, Hermione thought with a kind of wonder. I'm about to take Ginny Weasley from behind, in the shower, and she's begging for it.
The surreality of the moment wasn't lost on her, even as she began to push forward. The sensation was indescribable—tight, wet heat enveloping her most sensitive part inch by slow inch. Ginny pushed back impatiently, taking more of Hermione than she'd intended to give so quickly.
"Merlin's beard," Hermione hissed. Her hands found Ginny's hips, gripping them firmly to slow the redhead's eager movements. "Not so fast. I want this to last."
Ginny whimpered—actually whimpered—a sound Hermione had never heard from the usually confident girl. "Please," she begged, her voice cracking. "I need this. I need you."
The plea broke the last of Hermione's restraint. She thrust forward, seating herself fully inside Ginny in one smooth movement. Both girls cried out at the sensation, Hermione's eyes nearly crossing at the tight grip of Ginny's body around her cock.
For a moment, neither moved, adjusting to the intimate connection. Hermione could feel Ginny's rapid pulse, could sense the quiver of muscles around her. The water continued its steady patter, now decidedly cool, but the contrast only enhanced the heat where their bodies joined.
Slowly, Hermione began to move, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back in. The friction was exquisite, sending currents of pleasure radiating outward from her groin to the tips of her fingers and toes. She established a rhythm, determined to show Ginny that she was in charge this time.
"Faster," Ginny demanded, her voice strained. "Harder."
In response, Hermione slowed further, reducing her thrusts to a torturous pace that had Ginny whimpering in frustration. "Who's in control here?" Hermione asked, her lips at Ginny's ear.
The redhead didn't answer immediately, prompting Hermione to stop moving entirely, remaining buried deep but perfectly still. The stillness was its own kind of torture, requiring all of her considerable willpower to maintain.
"You are," Ginny finally gasped, the admission clearly difficult for the naturally dominant girl. "You're in control, Hermione. Please..."
The plea was all Hermione needed. She resumed her movements, gradually increasing the pace until the sound of wet skin meeting wet skin competed with the shower's spray. Her hands maintained their firm grip on Ginny's hips, holding her in place for each thrust.
Time seemed to lose all meaning in their steamy cocoon. Hermione was aware only of sensation—the slick heat gripping her cock, the cool water on her back, the sound of Ginny's increasingly desperate moans echoing off the tile. Her own breathing came in harsh pants, matching the rhythm of her thrusts.
I could get used to this, she thought hazily, watching the muscles of Ginny's back flex with each movement. Being in charge. Taking what I want.
The pressure built low in Hermione's abdomen, a coiling tension that warned of imminent release. She could feel herself swelling further inside Ginny, her cock somehow growing even harder as her climax approached. Each thrust now sent shockwaves of pleasure through her entire body, the sensations so intense they bordered on overwhelming.
"Touch yourself," Hermione commanded, her voice strained with the effort of maintaining control. She wanted—needed—to feel Ginny come apart around her before she allowed herself to fall over the edge.
Ginny complied instantly, one hand leaving its bracing position against the tile to slip between her legs. The slight change in posture altered the angle of Hermione's penetration, allowing her to reach even deeper. The redhead's moan at the adjustment sent vibrations through both their bodies.
"Gods, Hermione," Ginny gasped, her fingers working in frantic circles. "You feel so—fuck—so good inside me."
The praise sent a fresh surge of confidence through Hermione. In a move of pure instinct, she gathered Ginny's wet hair in one hand, wrapping it around her fist and giving it a gentle but firm tug. The response was immediate—Ginny's inner walls clenched around her cock, nearly triggering Hermione's own release.
I've discovered something new, Hermione thought with satisfaction, filing away the knowledge of Ginny's reaction to hair-pulling for future reference.
"Are you close?" Hermione asked, her thrusts becoming more insistent, driving deeper with each movement. The water had grown fully cold now.
"Yes," Ginny hissed, her voice barely recognizable. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
The desperation in her tone pushed Hermione further into her dominant role. She maintained her grip on Ginny's hair, using it to guide the angle of their connection. With her free hand, she reached around to replace Ginny's fingers with her own, finding the swollen nub that would send the redhead over the edge.
"Come for me," Hermione instructed, applying precisely the right pressure in circular motions. "Now, Ginny."
As if her body had been waiting for permission, Ginny shattered. Her back arched, pushing her ass more firmly against Hermione's pelvis, taking her cock to the hilt. A cry tore from her throat—half Hermione's name, half incoherent pleasure—as her inner muscles contracted rhythmically.
The sensation of Ginny pulsing around her was too much for Hermione's already tenuous control. The tight grip of orgasmic contractions pulled her inexorably toward her own climax. Her hips stuttered in their rhythm, then drove forward one final time, burying herself completely as the first wave crashed over her.
The orgasm was unlike any she'd experienced before—more intense. It started at her core, the pleasure almost painful, then radiated outward in concentric waves until even her fingertips tingled with it. Hermione's vision blurred as every muscle in her body tensed simultaneously.
"Ginny!" she cried, the name torn from her throat as she began to pulse inside the redhead, each spurt of her release extending her pleasure. She could feel herself filling Ginny, could sense the hot rush of her seed contrasting with the now-cold shower spray.
Hermione's legs trembled with the force of her orgasm, threatening to give out entirely. She released Ginny's hair, wrapping her arm around the smaller girl's waist to steady them both as the final pulses of pleasure subsided, leaving her dizzy and gasping.
For several heartbeats, neither moved. The only sounds were their ragged breathing and the steady patter of cold water. Hermione remained buried inside Ginny, unwilling to break their connection just yet, savoring the aftershocks that occasionally rippled through both their bodies.
Finally, reluctantly, she withdrew, eliciting a small whimper from Ginny at the loss. A trickle of Hermione's release followed, tracking down Ginny's inner thigh before being washed away by the shower.
Ginny turned slowly, her movements languid and boneless in the aftermath of pleasure. Her eyes, when they met Hermione's, held a new respect—perhaps even a touch of awe.
"Well," she breathed, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "That was... unexpected."
Hermione couldn't help the swell of pride that rose in her chest. "Good unexpected, I hope?"
"Bloody brilliant unexpected," Ginny confirmed, reaching up to trace the line of Hermione's jaw with still-trembling fingers. "Where did that come from? Not that I'm complaining, mind you."
Hermione considered the question, genuinely puzzled herself. "I don't know," she admitted. "It just felt... right. Taking control."
"It suits you," Ginny said, her voice still husky from her cries. "All that bossy energy finally finding its proper outlet."
The description startled a laugh from Hermione. "Bossy? I'm not—" She stopped at Ginny's raised eyebrow. "Alright, fine. Perhaps I can be a bit directive."
"'Harry, you must do your homework,'" Ginny mimicked in a passable impression of Hermione's precise diction. "'Ronald, do stop talking with your mouth full.'"
"Oh, shut up," Hermione said without heat, reaching to turn off the now-freezing water.
"Make me," Ginny challenged, though the effect was somewhat diminished by the way her teeth had begun to chatter in the cold.
Hermione shook her head, reaching for her wand to cast a quick warming charm over both of them. The sudden heat was blissful after the cold shower, raising steam from their skin.
"That was incredible," Hermione said quietly. "Thank you."
Ginny's expression softened. "No need to thank me. Mutual benefit and all that." She stretched, catlike, seemingly unconcerned with her nakedness. "Though if you fuck Fleur half as well as you just fucked me, she'll be writing sonnets to that magnificent cock of yours."
The crude assessment brought heat to Hermione's cheeks even after everything they'd just done. "You're incorrigible," she muttered, though she couldn't suppress a pleased smile.
"And you're different," Ginny observed, her gaze suddenly thoughtful. "Not just the obvious addition." She gestured vaguely toward Hermione's now-softening cock. "You carry yourself differently. More... present in your own skin."
The assessment struck Hermione as surprisingly insightful coming from the normally brash Ginny. "I feel different," she acknowledged. "More certain, somehow. Like I've found a part of myself I didn't know was missing."
"Well, whatever caused this change," Ginny said, reaching for a towel from the nearby rack, "I'm not complaining." She began to dry herself with brisk efficiency. "Though I am curious about what happens next. Will you confront Malfoy about that vial?"
The mention of Draco and the mysterious green vial snapped Hermione back to reality. With the haze of desire cleared by satisfaction, her analytical mind reasserted itself. "I need to," she said firmly. "If he's responsible for this—" she gestured to her altered body "—I want to know why. And how."
"And if he offers to reverse it?" Ginny asked, watching Hermione's face carefully. "Would you want that now?"
The question gave Hermione pause. Three weeks ago, her answer would have been an immediate yes. But now, she wasn't so certain.
"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Part of me thinks I should want to go back to normal. But another part..." She trailed off, unable to articulate the complex emotions swirling within her.
Ginny nodded as if she understood perfectly. "For what it's worth," she said, handing Hermione a fresh towel, "I think you're brilliant either way. But this version of you—" her eyes flicked downward briefly "—seems happier. More alive."
The simple observation warmed Hermione more than any charm could have. "Thank you," she said softly, beginning to dry herself. "For everything. The shower, the talk, the..."
"Mind-blowing sex?" Ginny supplied with a grin. "Anytime, Granger. Anytime."
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