-From the diary of Harry PotterHermione Granger sighed and closed the battered notebook. She had been pouring over these four notebooks for a week, ever since they were discovered underneath Harry Potter's bed. How could one boy hold some much pain, so much anguish? How could he have carried on, none of them suspecting a thing?Five years after the death of Harry Potter, Hermione was still trying to find answers. His final expression haunted her dreams: The expression of a soul finally at peace.She remembered the first time she'd ever seen him, crashing into his train compartment asking about a toad. The first thing she'd noticed was his thousand yard stare. Like his eyes were blanks. If the eyes were the windows to the soul, nobody was home.She didn't think much of it at the time. She was only eleven after all. But later ... Ah yes, it was always easier to notice things later. Later, later, later ... when it doesn't really matter anymore. You can torture yourself with what you should. What is the password?” I asked again, this time in an authoritative tone.She looked away and did not answer me.“I have to tell you that I don’t want to do this, but you left me no choice.” I made my meaning as I slowly slide my hands from her shoulder to her chest, just above her breasts.“Stop it!” Lyana gasped in surprise.“What’s the password, Lyana?”“Help! Somebody help me! Hel—“ Lyana started screaming so I immediately stuffed the handkerchief inside her mouth to muffle her screams.“I told you not to scream. Again, what’s the password?”“Hlllllllp!” Lyana gave a muffled scream for help.“Very well.” Oh damn. I am very much enjoying this.I slid my left hand lower and snaked through her bra. I grabbed her breast and gave it a squeeze.Lyana screamed and struggled wildly against her bonds, trying to rid of my invading hand in vain.I loved the sight of her struggling body. Her arched body gave emphasis to her beautiful breasts.My palms squeezed her breast passionately. My fingers played.
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