Embrace the Night

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Story Notes:
The forest at night is beautiful.

Hermione knows that many fear it even when the sun is high overhead but she finds beauty in the shadows. The magic laps at her skin every time she enters the Forbidden Forest, causing tingles of awareness in a way that nothing else ever has. It intrigues her, calls to her, and she has spent many evenings this term sneaking out of her dorm and running to the forest for a few hours of escape.

No one knows her secret. She is very good at keeping secrets, after all, and no one would ever dare guess that she spends a majority of her evenings deep in the forest that frightens so many. Hermione has never been scared by what lurks in shadows, believing there is no reason to fear the unknown. She knows her evening walks are dangerous but the danger adds a bit of excitement and makes her feel daring in a way very little else ever does.

It has been a school year of stress and tension and it’s barely even started. She doesn’t understand why she can’t lose herself in homework and revision like she has been able to every year previous. Ron is dating Lavender, something that has forced to realize she is jealous. She’s uncertain if she’s jealous that Ron is involved with someone because she wants him for herself, because she thought that infatuation had ended during the summer, or because she knows what he and Lavender do when they sneak into the empty classroom on the second floor and she wants to be the one doing those things, not necessarily with Ron.

Now Harry is practically drooling over Ginny, who has so many boys that it’s a surprise any other girl has a boyfriend. Hermione tries not to be bitter and spiteful about the young redhead but she has begun to resent her in a way that isn’t something she’s proud of. She doesn’t want Harry in that way, she doesn’t think, but she wonders why everyone else has someone and she’s alone; alone with her books. Is that the fate that awaits her?

She walks amongst the shadows of the night and can’t understand why boys never see her. She’s not beautiful but she thinks she’s pretty when she bothers to pay attention to such things. Her body isn’t slim and athletic like Ginny’s but she’s reasonably fit. Her breasts are actually quite nice and full and balance the curve of her hips. Boys are only interested in one thing and don’t care to have a brain attached to the body they lust for. She hears this often but wonders why girls can’t also only be interested in one thing.

Hermione doesn’t want a relationship. Who has time for such silliness when there are classes to keep her busy and exams and preparing for NEWTs next year? Besides school, the threat of Voldemort grows every day and she is smart enough to know that there is a chance Harry won’t succeed. She has faith that he will win, of course, and will willing die beside him if necessary, but she’s never been stupid nor is she oblivious. She sees the Prophet headlines and the notices of disappearances increase daily. A war is happening outside of Hogwarts, a war that she is part of by choice, and she accepts the fact that she could die at any time.

A relationship is a distraction. Ron has been a complete prat since he started shagging Lavender and Harry is acting like some strange creature with this sudden lust for Ginny. She’d think he was possessed if he wasn’t still just Harry whenever Ginny wasn’t around. She may not have any interest in dating, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a sexual creature. She has read many books on the topic, listened attentively to older girls discuss things, and learned various things she wants to do at some point in time. She knows, just knows, that she will be passionate and enjoy the physical release of intercourse.

Now she wonders if she shouldn’t have let Viktor have her when he wanted despite her hesitancy because she felt she was too young for that sort of intimacy. He’s the only boy who seemed to look at her and see a sexual being, someone he wanted in a way that left him flushed and needy with his cock pressed hard against his trousers. She’d touched him there, let him touch her breasts and between her legs, but always stopped before clothes were removed and things went too far.

No one since Viktor has wanted to touch her. Her orgasms now are at her own hands while others have found someone to give them that pleasure. It’s not fair but she knows more than most that life rarely is. The forest provides her a sanctuary when her thoughts grow bitter and she begins to resent those who never do their work, never apply themselves, spend all their time snogging and still manage to succeed somehow. She works so hard, loves to learn but does twice as much because she knows there are many who feel she doesn’t belong in this world, and her own friends insult her with easy smiles as if she has no feelings or is forced to accept their faults while they make fun of her own.

As she walks deeper into the forest, she can feel the magic practically caress her skin. She listens for creatures but know they seem to accept her as easily as the forest does whenever she seeks its comforting embrace. Tonight, she needs this. She needs escape, to surrender to the passion that lurks inside, to just stop thinking and lose herself for a few blissful hours.

She stops in a small clearing and looks at the sky barely visible through the trees. A light wind rustles the leaves and she closes her eyes as she lets everything go. Her anger with Harry for cheating in Potions, her annoyance with Ron, her jealousy and bitterness---it all slowly fades away until there is just her and the magic of the night. When she opens her eyes, she smiles, a sensual smile that would shock any who knew her.

The ground is hard beneath her but she doesn’t use a cushioning charm. She likes the feel of grass beneath the back of her legs when she lies down and the trees chatter to one another as she looks up at them. She imagines she hears whispers as they converse, a fanciful idea she’s had since she was a child.

She begins to unbutton her blouse as the magic teases her skin. She removed her bra and knickers before she snuck from her room, loving the way the fabric of her cotton shirt feels against her bare nipples and the friction that her tweed skirt causes as it rubs between her legs and against her thighs. Her nipples are hard and she feels wanton as she stops unbuttoning her shirt and pulls it to the side, her breast falling into her hand as it is unbound.

Her breath catches when she pulls on her nipple, twisting it with just a slight turn of her wrist until she gasps. Cool air caresses her skin and she spreads her legs so the breeze can move beneath her skirt. She is wet from the anticipation and the daring of her act. It excites her to break the rules, though she would never dare admit such a thing. She releases her breast and pulls her skirt up to her thighs.

The first touch of her fingertip against her slick lips makes her moan, the low sound joining the whispers of the tree. She hears the forest around her, the noises familiar now, and she wonders if anything is watching her. She is protected here, safe within the shadows’ embrace, and it arouses her to think a creature may be watching even if they’ve no idea what she is doing.

Two fingers slide over the lips of her cunt, spreading herself for a third to dip inside. She knows her body well and teases herself as she lies on the ground beneath the pale moon. When she feels it is time, she reaches for her wand. She clutches at air as she focuses her wand, holding it like a quill against her collarbone, and whispers the words to ancient magic she found in an old text buried in a section of the library.

Her body arches from the ground as she suddenly feels it all around her. She feels warmth on her skin where the wand presses against her. She tosses her head back and her mouth opens in a silent cry of pleasure as her eyes close against the soft red glow of magic. The stone she uses as a pillow is hard beneath her head but she pays no attention as the spell spreads over her. She feels it heat her skin, feels it spread over her until she is completely aware of every brush of wind, every blade of grass; desperate for release.

She moves her hand between her legs as the arousal builds. She can practically feel the firm hands against her skin, the tongue lapping at her, and she keeps her eyes shut tightly so the illusion is not ruined. She pushes two fingers inside her as she bends her legs and places her feet on the soft grass. Her skirt falls around her waist as her body pushes up against her hand. Her grip on the wand doesn’t waver as she stays focused on the spell, letting the magic of the forest have her willingly.

It begins to build slowly, her body alive with magic and passion and desire, warm and aroused as she adds a third finger. She pants and gasps as she fucks her hand, her hips rolling as she easily imagines a man poised above her. It is him inside her as she moans, practically able to feel his hand on her breast and his lips on her throat. The wand falls from her hand as she comes, rolling off her chest to fall to the ground beside her.

She cries out her release as she tightens around her fingers, trembling as she comes. The forest holds her as she shudders, whispers against her skin as she loses control, caresses her as she falls apart. As she returns to herself, she hears a noise and knows for certain that she is being watched. She doesn’t look to see if it is a centaur or some other creature but she whimpers slightly at the knowledge her unknown voyeur has watched her orgasm.

Hermione removes her hand and finally opens her eyes. She licks her fingers languidly, the tension and stress from earlier faded away along with the last of the spell. She lightly caresses her breast as she cleans her fingers, enjoying the caress of the air and grass against bare skin. When she sits up, her hair tumbling down her back in thick wild curls, she sees a shadow step back, hearing footsteps break a twig as the creature quickly hides from her possible gaze.

She smiles as she looks at the sky visible through the branches. It is a magical night, and she wonders why others never see as she does. She buttons her shirt and picks up her wand before she stands. A quick charm removes the sticky wetness from between her legs and she sighs as she stretches, brushing leaves from her hair and then smoothing her skirt. She is sated but not completely satisfied. There is still a tension to her, a need that will not be met by magic and her own hands, but she is content for now.

The trees whisper to her as she walks back to the castle, the magic from the forest lapping at her skin. She is in no hurry to go back, not yet, and she takes her time as she leaves the small clearing behind. Soon, it will be winter and these visits will be less frequent. She knows warming charms, thankfully, and the forest will show her a warmer spot if necessary.

Her body is still alive with magic and desire as she makes her way through the forest. There is passion and sensuality in her movement that no one ever notices. With each step closer to the parameter of the forest, she gains a bit more control of herself. Perhaps one day a boy will look at her like Viktor did and really see her, she muses as she steps out of the shadows of the forest. She takes one last lingering look at the place that has become a sanctuary to her this term before she heads back to the castle, careful to avoid detection, one thought in her mind as she heads back to reality.

The forest at night is beautiful.

The End