Title: Big Hands
Author: kinky_kneazle
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/Hagrid
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Phallophilia, pyrophilia
Other Warnings: Masturbation, Teacher/Student relations
Word Count: 1300 words
Summary/Description: Hermione tells herself that it's research, but really she's looking for something. When she sees Hagrid naked by the lake she thinks that maybe she's found it.
Author's Notes: It's my sweetheart and erstwhile beta's birthday today, so I told him he could choose the theme and characters for this month's DD. Which is, I guess, my way of saying it's not my fault!!! Happy Birthday F, and thanks for doing the beta even though it was your present.



There was something they said about men with big hands. Hermione had heard Lavender and Parvati giggling about it at night. They talked about Ron and how large his hands were, and Snape and his nose and what that all signified.

Hermione wasn't stupid. She knew they were talking about how big the men's penises would be, but she thought it was stupid. She'd done some research while she was at her parent's and had discovered the average man's penis was between five and six inches when erect, and that despite the fact that the development of the penis was controlled by the same genes that looked after the development of the foot, there was no correlation between the size of the hand and the penis. Or the foot and the penis. Or even the nose and the penis. All big hands signified was that a man would need larger gloves.

When she told Lavender and Parvati this they pointed out that she'd probably never even seen one live, so could hardly be considered an expert on the subject. That was when she'd stalked out of the common room and out into the grounds, trying to leave their immature giggling behind her.

She didn't want to tell them it wasn't true. She and Ron had rounded third base before realizing they weren’t suited, and then there was the young man she'd met while in Australia with her parents. But two penises did not an expert make, and to be honest, all her experiments in the area were rather dissatisfying. Ron was clumsy and inexperienced, and Bruce was – well, small. Small despite his large feet and hands. At least it had meant losing her virginity wasn't really painful.

The only way to find out if size really mattered was to experiment, so when Terry Nott propositioned her she accepted. And when Blaise Zabini found her in the prefect's bath she smiled and stepped into his arms. She even found her way into Neville's bed where his girth almost made up for his clumsiness, but not quite.

She found herself wondering how she'd become more promiscuous than Lavender Brown, and more self-destructive than even Harry. She walked out into the night contemplating the thought.

It was when she rounded the lake that she saw it. Or him really, but it was what she was looking at. Hagrid was larger than any man she'd seen before. Maybe it was proportional – he was a half-giant after all, but that was proportional to her. It would fill her like she'd never been filled before.

He was standing naked before a fire, standing too close really. Maybe the half-giant part kept him safe, because the flames licked his hand as it moved up and down his cock. She watched as the large hand moved with strong, steady strokes, occasionally pausing to coax the flames into a greater roar. Each time the fire crackled a groan floated across the field to where she'd hidden herself among the trees. She reached a hand between her legs to ease the pressure there, wondering if she could orgasm as he did. Too late. As she watched he spurted large globs into the fire then heaved air in struggling for breath.

She waited until he'd dressed and walked back to his cabin before quickly bringing herself off.

She had to have him.

She didn't realize how hard it would be to seduce a grown man. Teenage boys approached her. In the overly-sexed post-war Hogwarts, all she had to do was wear a low-cut top and smile and she found herself with choices. But now that she knew her choice, she couldn't have him because he still saw her as an eleven-year-old.

That was how she found herself trekking across the grounds towards his hut in a miniskirt and heels. He had to see her as an adult dressed like this and if he didn't well… he might be gay.

She reached the hut and heard groans coming from within. Rhythmic groans, and all his. The timing was perfect.

She knocked.

"Hang on a minute!"

She heard crashing and labored breathing and ignored it all to walk in and see Hagrid standing in front of the fire trying to pull up his pants.

"'ermione." He spun around so it was his hairy backside she saw. "You should go."

"I don't want to. I want to be with you."

"You're a student."

"I'm an adult. And I know what I want."

She stepped into the room and a breeze blew through, sending the fire crackling. A shudder ran through his body and a sneaking suspicious crept into Hermione's brain. The fire.

"I think I know what you want as well, Hagrid."

"Not you."

"But this you like." She conjured a fire in her hand, a trick she'd been practicing, and walked to where Hagrid could see. That big cock twitched at the sight of her with fire in her hand. "It is, isn't it."

He couldn't even speak, could only nod. She held it out so the flames flickered across his skin and he didn't even flinch. He didn't seem to notice the smell of his singed chest hair, but whatever he got from the fire had him reaching for his cock again.

"I want to," she said, and she spoke the word to turn the fire out and reached out to wrap both hands around his cock.

"Hermione I – "

"Just tell me you want this."

In answer he picked her up as if she weighed nothing and sat on his armchair as close to the fireplace as they could get with her straddling his lap. She was wet already, had been before she'd started walking here, but she was unsure she'd be able to take this. Still, if anything was going to make her feel again it was being stretched like that.

She rose up on her knees and positioned herself over him.

"Slowly," he murmured. "I don't want you hurt."

She took him inch by inch, giving both of them time to adjust, to stretch, to feel. He looked like he might kiss her and she turned her head away, looking down at that spot where they joined, where her lips stretched wide to accommodate all that width. When she was finally seated fully her head dropped back and her low groan mingled with his.

She rocked back and forth experimentally and found that the smallest movement had her blood pounding. She let her fingernails dig in to his chest as she let the pleasure spin through her in waves. She wondered if this was what drugs felt like. Or perhaps dying.

"Stand up," she said suddenly. Hagrid obeyed instantly, one large hand cupping her bottom. Her legs couldn't even reach around his waist, so gripped as hard as she could with her thighs. She picked her wand up from the mantelpiece.

"Protego," she whispered and she felt the hum of magic surround them both. "Step into the fire."

"Really?"

She nodded against his chest and he ducked into the fireplace. The bubble of protection stopped the pain, but the heat, the beauty of the flames dancing around them, that was all there.

Inside the fire he wasn't gentle. He lost control, but he never let go of her. His hips bucked and every part of her stretched and ached and climbed closer to orgasm.

He was gasping her name over and over and then she felt it. His cock pulsed inside her, growing even bigger, sending ecstasy shooting through her. Her head tipped back and she screamed up the chimney, out into the night.

It was possible she passed out, because the next thing she knew they were back on the armchair, his cock growing soft inside her. One big hand smoothed her hair and the other rubbed small circles across her back.

Big hands.

She giggled. Perhaps the urban legend was true. For giants at least.