Harri cupped Hermione’s cheek with a gentle grasp, poisonous green eyes peering down at their first true disciple. The gush of warmth between Hermione’s legs turned into an ocean of magma, and she balanced, half-there and half-away, steadied against falling into the madness of Harri’s twisted gaze. She lost herself in the pleasure she was giving, receiving. When Harri finally released their gaze, she returned to the task of licking and sucking, using just the barest hint of her teeth. Harri guided her all the way, down and back up again, hand wrapped tightly into Hermione’s loose waves and curls. Careful, as always, to not let her remain up for air for too long.