She flipped Harry over, straddled him, and he laughed in surprise, himself. Hermione guided him back inside her and began to ride him expertly, rolling her lower back like a practiced lover, until she shuddered to another thundering orgasm that hit her like a stampede of wild hippogriffs and she collapsed atop him. This was getting obscene. Hermione thought pleasure like this should probably be illegal. Harry's magic, and the spells he'd cast on them both, had intensified the natural sensitivity of their bodies to such a fever pitch that he could make her come on command it seemed. A handful of thrusts and she was a mess all over again.