Two tears dropped softly atop the tattered binding of Hogwarts: A History. Hermione had never felt so alone.
"I know he'll come back. I'm sure of it," Harry reassured, but her couldn't get even so much as a half-hearted nod out of her. He sat down beside his companion on the dusty floor of their oversized tent she had brought for them. He put his arm on her shoulder. He couldn't believe Ron had actually left, though he couldn't blame him. This tiring odyssey wasn't for everyone. They needed all the help they could get and one less member of their group made these near impossible tasks that much more challenging. He knew that Hermione's loyalty was unwavering and she would stick with him no matter what, and that meant the world to him. Anyone else that was true of had died. She was all he had and she knew that.
He tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but was unsuccessful, as her crying had slowly progressed into a sob. She had now collapsed into his chest, her overused book falling to the floor. She had been able to stay strong through obliterating her parents' memories of her existence, leaving civilization behind and the mentally grueling tasks of finding and destroying horcruxes. But now with her best friend, the person she loved more than anything abandoning her and Harry when they needed him most, she had never felt more betrayed or more lost. It was more than she could handle and she couldn't imagine facing reality again. Harry rested his head upon hers and held her close. He couldn't imagine how upset, angry and confused she must be.
They sat there together for what could have been hours or minutes, consoling each other for the loss of their friend and the uncertain future that lay ahead of them. Finally Hermione had cried all the tears she could for Ron and she opened her eyes to look upon Harry. He looked back at her, searching her distressed face for some clue to make her feel better. Looking at his pensive expression reminded Hermione of the first time she had laid eyes on him. Such a courageous but naïve young wizard, unaware and unprepared for the life he would lead. She smiled when she recalled all the times she had to repair the glasses he now looked at her through. It felt like they had been friends for several lifetimes, for all the adventures, bad and good, they had embarked on together.
Harry was so relieved to see a smile on her face, though meek, it meant she didn't blame him for the situation she was in. He smiled back his crooked smile and kissed her forehead before standing up. He picked up her book and sat it on a nearby table and walked over to their ancient radio and began turning the tuning knob. Hermione wiped away the remnants of her breakdown and waited intently for him to find the station he was looking for. Most of the stations were news reports. None were very upbeat. Those infiltrated by the Death Eaters praising the investigations of impure witches and wizards. Hermione hoped he would just give up and come sit back down; more bad news was the last thing she needed.
Finally Harry found a static ridden station that played music. As Nick Cave's "Oh Children" escaped the small speakers, Harry turned back to his friend. He walked over to her in as gentlemanly a gait as he could muster. He bowed before he and held out his hand. She wholeheartedly chuckled at his mock-chivalry and graciously accepted, slapping her hand right on top of his. The instant she did, he pulled her to her feet and into his arms. He quickly unclasped the draining locket from her neck, throwing it to the cot behind them. Then a sort of waltzing/swinging hybrid ensued and they found themselves laughing hysterically the whole time. Through the twists, the dips, the twirls and the box steps, not once did their minds drift to destroying the locket. Not once did they think of Ron's betrayal. Not once did they think of what was riding on their improbable success. They didn't think of much of anything, which was a luxury they hadn't indulged in for months, perhaps even years. They simply enjoyed each other's company, the music and their intermediate dance skills that kept them tripping over each other's feet and laughing all the more.
They both wished the song would never end, the real world wouldn't find them and they could grow old together, dancing their lives away. The song began to fade out and Harry worked up to a grand finish. He twirled his dance partner around three times and started to lean her down for a big dip. But the momentum of their twirling had them on the floor before the song's last notes had even played. Side by side, Harry's arms still around Hermione's waist, the dance partners were in stitches; their asses and egos severely bruised.
"This is what I get for chivalry," Harry choked through laughs.
"Chivalry would have been taking a dance lesson before nearly killing the both of us!" Hermione retorted.
Finally their laughter subsided. Hermione suddenly realized she was laying in the arms of a man that wasn't Ron. She turned to sit up, but she realized Harry's arms weren't letting go. She looked back into his eyes. It was a look she had only seen once, when he hastily said goodbye to Ginny when they had to flee Bill and Fleur's wedding. It was a mix of anguish and lust and she was lost as to what to do next. Should she do the right thing and force herself away from him or give into Harry's needs and the warmth she felt growing between her legs? She didn't have a chance to decide before Harry had taken her head in his hands to pull her lips to his. She didn't pull away, but she didn't kiss back either. All she could hear was Ron's voice. All she could picture was his smile, but she had to keep telling herself he abandoned her. She had never thought of Harry this way before, but she didn't really have an adequate amount of time to weigh all her options as he timidly kissed her lips and the stubble on his chin tickled her face. This wasn't a conundrum she could research in her infinite schoolbooks, so she was totally lost. Before she realized it, she had opened her mouth slightly and Harry's tongue began encircling hers. Hermione found her guilt trickle to a whisper as his fingertips began tracing the exposed small of her back between her jeans and her shirt. For once Hermione told herself she wasn't going to make the practical, rational decision. Her left brain took over.
She moved onto her back and spread her bent knees to make room for him on top of her. He quickly covered her body with his own. Their eyes locked. His forehead pressed against hers, pausing for a moment, as if he hadn't thought he would have even gotten this far. Her pulse raced as the anticipation grew. He was more reassured when Hermione began nervously unbuttoning her flannel shirt. He took her head back in his hands and firmly kissed her lips, her chin, her chest, her stomach, belly button, every inch of skin that Hermione revealed to him, following her hands that seemed to be going agonizingly slow.
At last the final button was unfastened and Harry kissed his way back up her impossibly smooth skin. He slid the shirt from her arms and kissed the tops of breasts that her bra didn't cover. He finally unfastened the clasps of her bra to expose the swell of her breasts. Feeling his hot breath dance on top of her skin made the pressure between Hermione's thighs escalate to a maddening level. Harry wanted to drink in the sight of her perfect chest, but settled on taking a nipple in his mouth. Hermione tried to mask how he made her feel, but she couldn't help but let out a quiet squeal as his tongue tickled her sensitive peak, and his hand firmly squeezing the other.
Hermione couldn't take it much longer. She grasped the bottom of Harry's tear-stained shirt and forced it over his head, throwing it haphazardly across the tent. Following Hermione's lead, he began hastily unbuttoning her jeans, unable to curb his hunger for her any longer. Once unfastened, Hermione slid them from her waist, past her legs and feet, and discarded them as well. Harry locked eyes with Hermione once more. He placed his hands to the side of her breasts, then smoothed them down the silky skin of her sides until he reached the only barrier still between them. He teased her by slipping his fingertips just beneath the waistband, dipping his head down to her to her flat stomach, nipping his way across the skin there, a playful smile set on his lips. Just when Hermione thought she couldn't wait a second more, Harry lifted his head to look up at her.
Through his grin Harry managed to say, "So what would you like me to do Miss Granger?"
This was the first time either of them had spoken since they had begun their escapade. When Hermione didn't answer right away, Harry worried he should have just kept quiet. Maybe she was trying to imagine she was with Ron.
Hermione bit her lip and slightly rose her pelvis from the ground.
"I wanna hear you say it," Harry said firmly.
Hermione couldn't even formulate a response; her mind so clouded with lust and need. She was the most outspoken pupil at Hogwarts. She could articulate even the most complex subjects but this was unfamiliar territory.
Harry let out an animated sigh. "Well what a pity. Guess I was a real git," Harry said with mock disappointment and moved his hands to the floor. Just when he was about to raise his body off of hers in a theatrical fashion, Hermione grabbed his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him to her.
Harry looked back at her with a satisfied grin.
"P-please!" Hermione was able to exclaim.
"Well as long as you're being polite."
Harry rested his weight back on top of her. His hands quickly tore away her knickers, casting them aside. Harry wanted nothing more than to devour her. The tips of his fingers began massaging her in a place Ron had never found, harder and faster than anything she had ever experienced or fantasized about. Just when the first wave of bliss began to envelope her, Harry removed his hand from her. He licked his lips. She smelled heavenly; he couldn't wait another moment to taste her. He slowly slid his tongue between her moist folds before wrapping his lips around her sensitive nub of flesh. He pushed two fingers deep into her as he began to suckle the sweet mound.
Hermione's whole body began to quiver. She had no idea the human body had the capacity for such unbelievable pleasure. Each suckle, each thrust of his curved fingers, Hermione could feel the heat between her legs growing ever more. As Harry felt her muscles begin to tense, he quickly removed his tongue and hand, shirking off his pants and crawling up her body once more.
Hermione pulled down his boxers as fast as she could. The anticipation of him taking her was overwhelming. Harry knew he had to be dreaming. He couldn't remember being this painfully erect before. He ached to be inside of her. He looked at Hermione, nestled at her entrance. Even now he needed one final sign what he was about to do was alright. But Hermione had no time for him to ask permission. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him to her. Tiny fingers wrapped around his cock, guiding him into her.
Harry thrust deeper still, ripping a low moan from Hermione's throat. She glanced down at their entwined bodies, reveling in the sight of him thrusting into her. She had always imagined it would be Ron fucking her, making her feel this way. How many girls imagined the Chosen One between their legs at night? But it was her, a bossy bookworm who was the only thing on his mind. Harry interrupted her thoughts, cupping her face in his hands.
His thumb stroked her cheek as he spoke, "Open you eyes, Hermione." He had to see her. Wanted to know that this was real. Timidly, she opened her eyes, looking into his, so darkened by lust. He stilled for a moment before catching her lips and slamming his hips into her. Hermione gasped, her back arching like a strung bow. The pressure at the apex of her thighs was growing quickly, causing her to meet him thrust for thrust.
Harry reveled in the feeling of her hot breath on his face, her breathing becoming unsteady with her coming orgasm. Harry sensed that Hermione was close. One hand snuck between their bodies, finding her clit as he began to thrust faster.
The bliss began to overcome her. Her muscles tensed, clutching him inside her. Harry was surprised he had lasted as long as he did. Watching Hermione struggle against her own pleasure was heart-stopping. He couldn't take it anymore. He buried his head in her chest as he thrust deep into her sex, moaning with his own release. Feeling deliciously filled by his seed, her aching climax had finally ascended to a numbing level.
They collapsed onto the floor, breathless and exhausted by the pleasure they had both released. Their minds remained blank canvases for several minutes while they recovered from the incredible, yet unexpected encounter. Finally, Harry moved to the floor beside her. He looked at her adoringly, feeling like the luckiest wizard in the world. How had he not realized how beautiful she was before tonight? It had never even crossed his mind. Brushing the mane of hair from her flushed face, he leaned over to kiss her forehead tenderly.
Once the ecstasy had slowly faded, Hermione's conscience quickly replaced it. She hoped if she pretended to fall asleep, she wouldn't have to look him in the eye. It was obvious this encounter had made some already existing feelings in Harry grow deeper, and this pained Hermione to no end. While Ron wasn't perfect and his recent abandonment she may never be able to recover from, she knew he loved her more than anything and nothing she could say would quiet the deafening voice of reason, making her feel more guilty and ashamed than she ever thought possible. It was hard to swallow. She could barely breathe. What had she done? Flashes of the previous hour stabbed at her heart.
She wouldn't dare tell Harry what she was feeling. It would crush him, and he had been so wonderful to her. More selflessly, she knew he would be unable to save the world with a broken heart. So she would hope against hope, they could find these horcruxes quickly and maybe somehow find Ron when this was all over and she would beg him to take her back.
As Harry brought her aching body next to his she wished it was Ron holding her, but for the moment, she leaned her head against his chest, hoping he would mistake the falling tears from her eyes for sweat.