She knew she was dreaming—had that strange, distant awareness that came with the deepest sleep—but she couldn't bring herself to care. Not when Hermione was beneath her, flushed and gasping, her wild hair spread across the pillow like a halo.
"Lavender," dream-Hermione breathed. "Please—"
Lavender's hips moved of their own accord, her cock sliding into wet, welcoming heat. So tight. So warm. So different from anything she'd ever felt before.
"Oh God," she heard herself say. "Hermione, you feel—"
Dream-Hermione arched beneath her, wrapping her legs around Lavender's waist, pulling her deeper. "More. I need more—"
Lavender thrust harder, faster, chasing a pleasure that built and built and—
She woke with a gasp.
For a moment, she lay frozen in her bed, heart pounding, body thrumming with unfulfilled need. Her cock was achingly hard beneath her nightgown, tenting the fabric obscenely, and she could feel the slickness of precum soaking through her knickers.
Fuck.
The dream clung to her like cobwebs—Hermione's face, her sounds, the impossible sensation of being inside her. Not her mouth, not her hand, but her actual—
Lavender pressed the heel of her palm against her erection, trying to will it away. It didn't work. If anything, the pressure made things worse, sent sparks of pleasure shooting up her spine.
She needed relief. Real relief.
Her eyes drifted across the dark dormitory to Hermione's bed. The curtains were drawn, but Lavender could picture her perfectly—curled on her side, probably, her hair a mess against her pillow. Sleeping peacefully while Lavender lay here aching for her.
I could just...
No. That was insane. She couldn't just crawl into Hermione's bed and—
But they'd done things before. Helped each other. That was allowed, wasn't it? That was what the group was for.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Lavender slipped from her bed.
The stone floor was cold against her bare feet as she crossed the dormitory, wincing at every creak and rustle. Parvati's snores continued uninterrupted. The other beds remained still and silent.
She reached Hermione's bed and hesitated, her hand hovering over the curtain.
This is mad. She's asleep. I should just go back to bed and handle things myself.
But the dream was still vivid in her mind, and her cock was still throbbing, and she wanted—
Lavender took a breath and pulled the curtain aside.
Hermione was exactly as she'd imagined—curled on her side, hair wild, face soft with sleep. She looked peaceful. Beautiful, even, in the dim moonlight filtering through the window.
And beneath the thin sheet, Lavender could see the distinct outline of an erection.
She's hard too.
The thought emboldened her. Lavender climbed carefully onto the bed, pulling the curtain closed behind her, and cast a quick Muffliato around them. Whatever happened next, the other girls didn't need to hear it.
"Hermione," she whispered, reaching out to touch the other girl's shoulder. "Hermione, wake up."
Hermione stirred, mumbling something incoherent.
"Hermione." Lavender shook her gently. "It's me. Wake up."
Brown eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep. "Lav'nder? Wha's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. I just..." Lavender felt her face heat. "I had a dream. About you. And I woke up, and I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to..."
She trailed off, suddenly feeling ridiculous. Here she was, kneeling on Hermione's bed in the middle of the night, propositioning her like some kind of—
"What kind of dream?" Hermione asked, more alert now. She pushed herself up on one elbow, the sheet falling away to reveal her sleep shirt. And beneath it, the unmistakable bulge of her own arousal.
"A... a sex dream." Lavender's voice dropped to barely a whisper. "About us. About me... being inside you."
Hermione's breath caught. "Inside me, how?"
"Your... you know." Lavender gestured vaguely.
"My vagina?"
Trust Hermione to be clinical about it. "Yes. That."
"Oh." Hermione was quiet for a moment, and Lavender braced herself for rejection. For awkwardness. For Hermione to tell her to go back to her own bed and stop being ridiculous.
Instead, Hermione said, "I've thought about that too."
"You have?"
Hermione sat up fully, pushing her hair out of her face. "I've wondered what it would feel like. To have someone inside me there while also having..." She gestured at her own erection. "This."
"Would you want to find out?" Lavender asked, her heart hammering. "With me? Now?"
Hermione's eyes met hers in the darkness. Lavender could see the flush spreading across her cheeks, could see the way her cock twitched beneath her sleep shirt.
"Yes," Hermione breathed. "I want that. I want you."
Lavender surged forward and kissed her.
It was different from their previous encounters—messier, more desperate. Hermione's mouth opened under hers, and Lavender tasted sleep and something uniquely Hermione, and it was intoxicating. Her hands found the hem of Hermione's shirt, pulling it up and off, revealing the other girl's bare chest.
"You too," Hermione gasped between kisses, tugging at Lavender's nightgown. "Off. I want to feel you."
They undressed each other clumsily, urgently, until they were both bare. Lavender took a moment to just look—Hermione's soft curves, her small breasts, her flushed cock jutting proudly from between her thighs.
"You're beautiful," Lavender said.
Hermione huffed a laugh. "I have a penis."