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Summary
Neither of them knew how they got into that kind of… thing.
The only thing they knew was that they couldn’t stop.
It was past curfew and Hermione walked through the Hogwarts halls. Her feet dragged her outside and to the quidditch field. She truly hated - despised - quidditch and everyone knew so she was very careful not to be seen by anyone. No one could know. When she finally reached the changing rooms she took a deep breath and dried her hands over her skirt. They’ve been doing this for quite a time now but she found herself a nervous wreck every single time. It’s not that he exactly makes her nervous and it was not him that made her knees weak every time she heard his name or saw a glimpse of his hair.