Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, if I did this would be in the books.
A.N.: So, I promised I'd post something this weekend, and here you go. Pure smut, H/Hr, with a little angst in the mixture. Don't forget to review, and enjoy!
Hermione Granger was sitting in a deserted classroom, unaware of time and silently casting enchantments. She was not just practising for exams, nor even was she trying to get better at them; for a moment in her life she was doing it just for the sake of it. For her own sake.
Several weeks had passed since her anger outlet at Ron and Lavender, and now her thoughts seemed to grow like a cancer in her mind. They would not leave her, they wouldn't even let her sleep properly. How could she, the brightest witch of her age, feel so feeble at the simple sounding of the word love? For a long time now, she knew she wasn't able to pronounce it, not even think about it. 'Hormones,' she said under her breath. She was inclined that would be the year that she wouldn't let any boy creep under her skin, make her feel uncomfortable. But that wasn't possible, she had let it happen already; how many times, she didn't know, but for five consecutive years she always let one particular wizard invade her mind.
For years now, she always knew that she had something special with that boy, but as they grew up together, something seemed to cast them away, something clouded the path she had to walk towards him. Soon she started to notice how other girls seemed to take interest in him, and she gradually started to lose her faith. Decided to turn her back to those feelings, she tried to channel them towards others, but it proved to be unsuccessful. Five years she had waited and now she was really starting to lose it.
Hermione was tired of waiting on something she now thought lost forever. The harder she tried to like other people, the worst she did. She knew, deep down, that her heart would always be devoted to him, even if she ended up marrying another man, he would always be the one her heart always desired.
She finally got up, decided that it should be better go to bed rather than just wandering around where Filch could catch her.
Walking around the castle without her Prefect privileges was, once again, not very good for her reputation. She finally managed to get back to the Gryffindor Tower, and as she climbed through the portrait hole someone shouted at her from the other side of the common room.
'Hermione!' As the voice rang through her ears, making her leap and bumping her head on the portrait hole. 'We thought you'd been caught by Filch!'
'I'm fine,' she grumbled, rubbing the top of her head. 'Why did you have to startle me that way?'
Her ginger haired friend looked above his shoulder at the sofas; she followed his gaze which lay on Harry's distraught figure. She let out a preoccupied moan slide through her throat and hurried to his side. 'What happened, Ron?' she asked with a worried look on her face.
'I don't know…' he said apologetically, 'I ran into him near Dumbledore's office… He kept calling out for you.'
Hermione's expression worsened, her eyes trying to find his, and laid her hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner. 'What's wrong, Harry?' she asked softly, gripping his arm softly and hoping he'd turn his head towards her.
'I'll have to do it myself,' he whispered in to his lap, his head hung low. 'I don't want you get hurt… He'll be coming to get all those who I care for and he'll kill if he has to…' his voice broke and she knew that he was about to collapse.
'What are you talking about?' said Hermione, now vigorously grasping his arm. She needed to look into his emerald piercing eyes; she needed him. 'No one's going to get hurt… it's going to be alright.'
'No, it's not,' he said as he finally lifted his head to look at her. His eyes were darker, his expression was none she had seen him carry. 'He'll come and he'll do whatever it takes to destroy me.'
Fear washed all over her face, she had never seen Harry so resolute in what he said. This time, she knew, it wouldn't be anything like what they did before, it was something bigger. 'I- we'll go with you,' she stammered looking back and forwards between Harry and Ron, 'Won't we, Ron?'
'Yeah, we'll go…' he said unconvincingly, but good enough given the circumstance.
Harry threw her a bittersweet look, leaning closer to her as he spoke, 'I don't want anyone else to die for me… First my parents, then Cedric, now Sirius… Who's next? Ron? You?' He looked sternly at Hermione, his voice lowered down to a whisper, 'I need you.'
She could swear that her heart had stopped momentarily. What was he talking about? Why and it what way did he need her? She could feel all of her blood pouring down to her feet, and stood there, half-dead, looking at the only man who could sweep her off her feet. 'What do you mean?' she finally managed to say, her heart seemed to be beating on her throat.
Harry didn't answer her and instead turned to Ron, 'I want you to keep her safe… don't let her come after me, it will be too dangerous.'
Ron looked appalled, he knew Harry better than he knew himself. 'Mate, I don't really think you should go alone…' he said after a moment or two, staring blankly at his best friend. 'I'm sure Dumbledore would agree that we should go with you.'
'I don't care what Dumbledore thinks, it's me who doesn't want you to get hurt,' he said coldly. His eyes grew darker with every word he spoke and she knew he was close to the boiling point. 'This is all about me: it's me who Voldemort wants, and it's me who's going to have to finish him… All that matters is that you stick together, away from whatever he causes, even if it means that we should split up. If I ever survive this, I want to come back home to you, and I'd feel guilty all my life if I didn't.'
He got up from the sofa and walked towards the stairs to the boy's dormitory. She wanted to move, she wanted to get up and run to him, tell him what she felt. But she sat on her knees, helpless, as she watched him go up the stairs, without looking back.
Tears menaced their way out, she felt powerless, defeated. She looked towards Ron with a pleading look, but he just gazed at her with the same confused look. 'You're not doing anything?' she spat at him, tears shading her vision.
'He loves you…' he responded in a soft whisper.
Hermione's eyes widened. It wasn't what she was expecting to hear, not like that at least. She let Ron's words sink in properly, her face buried in her hands to muffle the sobs. Guilt washed her over; she was the reason Harry was willing to let everything go and face Voldemort on his own. It was the stupidest plan Harry had ever come up with; he needed them, he needed her, but he was too stubborn to admit it.
Suddenly, she felt Ron sit on the sofa. 'Don't cry,' he whispered.
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears and her face ablaze. 'What do you want me to do? Go after him disguised and get killed in the process of finding him? Are you stupid, Ronald?' He shifted in his seat and looked down shamefully. 'He's going crazy, that's what! You're his best friend, you can convince him that we should go with him… I can't live without him.'
Finally, she picked herself up from the floor and mopped the tears with her sleeve. She was torn, weak; she could't handle not telling him anymore, it hurt just thinking that one day she would wake up and never see him again. Throwing one last menacing look at Ron, she disappeared through the staircase.
~ooo~
Not even a week had passed since their conversation when the news exploded: Dumbledore was dead. The only person who could protect Harry was dead, and he was not coming back. She looked for Harry for what seemed hours, until she finally crossed paths with him. He looked even worse than he did a week before: his hands were trembling, his face was pale as a ghost's skin. She walked carefully in his direction and, when she reached him, she threw her arms around him.
A sob escaped her as she embraced him, fear etched on her face. She felt like she could hold him forever. A moment after, she felt his arms locking around her waist and his chest pounding heavily agains hers. Harry loved Dumbledore, he had bee like a father to him, and now he was dead. 'This is what I don't want,' he said against her ear, 'I can't imagine loosing you… Not to him, I want you to be safe.'
'Harry, I will be safe as long as I am with you…' she whispered, struggling not to cry.
'I-' he started as he lifted his head to look at her, never unlocking his arms from around her, 'I love you…'
Her heart fell; she felt like a ghost had just passed through her as a cold breeze filled her in. She felt speechless, unable to even think of what to tell him. But he didn't wait for her to respond and, by the time Hermione was thrown back in to her senses, he leaned towards her, his right hand cupping the back of her head. His lips met hers in a tender kiss and adrenaline shot through her veins, an electric shock ran down her spine.
'Harry…' she whispered against his lips, 'I want to be with you…'
'I wish it was that simple,' he said as he broke the kiss. His arms were stubbornly glued to her waist; she knew he didn't want to let go off her, that he wanted to stay.
'There's no reason not to make it simple… I want to go with you, I want to help you. Whatever it is…'
A slight smile seemed to appear in his face, but soon it vanished when a crowd of students approached where they were standing. He looked a round and finally set his eyes on a classroom door, which he opened swiftly and rushed her in before they could be seen. 'I reckon it's better not to spread this around the school,' he breathed against her neck, which he proceeded to kiss sensually.
Shivers shot down her spine again as she felt her body stiffen at his touch. She had never been that close to a boy, and she could't help but blush as his hands tried to find a spot of skin. Thoughts quickly left her mind as she got more involved in the moment, and she too started to find her own way around his sculptural body.
He managed to untuck her shirt and slid his hand beneath it; she felt out of this world as his harsh hand rubbed against her skin. As he pulled her closer to him, she could feel a hard bump bellow his midsection and blushed as she understood what it was. She had never done that, and she found herself quite nervous about it as he lowered his hand to her thigh.
Their lips met again and again, and each time the encounter was rougher than the last. His tongue danced with hers, his hands were all over her and she pushed him closer in a sudden jolt of ecstasy. She wanted him in ways she never imagined she could want, and suddenly broke the kiss and started to unbutton her shirt, partly revealing her breasts. He looked at her in awe, his eyes surveying her body and Hermione thought that she had just unleashed the beast inside him.
He approached her and gently embraced her, his hand making its way to her breast and squeezed it gently. A moan slipped through her mouth, a jolt of pleasure crossed her mind. She had a million questions for him, but shrugged them off as his fingers brushed softly their way bellow her skirt. Lowering her hands down to his pants, she felt him press his hand against her groin, which gently slipped beneath her knickers.
A mischievous smile formed in his lips: she was wetter than she had ever been, and it seemed to turn him on even more. She brushed her hand against his hard manhood, gripping it sensually through the fabric of his jeans. She wanted it, and she wanted it badly; she needed to feel him inside her, she wanted to claim him hers.
Harry groaned at her touch and she knew he wanted it as much as she did. His finger slipped inside her, vigorously searching for her weak spot. Hermione arched her back in pleasure, making her shirt slip revealing totally one of her breasts, which Harry gripped and lowered his mouth to suck it. 'Do it,' she pleaded, 'make me yours…'
He wasted no time; raising her to his waist, he walked to the nearest secretary, allowing her to sit on it, her legs slightly parted. He pulled his pants and boxers down to his ankles with a single gesture and soon positioned himself at her entrance. They were lost in ecstasy, nothing could tell them that they were rushing everything; she knew it was right, it was meant to be that way. She was already off age, she knew what she was doing but, at the same time, she felt nervous, that moment was way too important for her. She had always imagined her first time to be in a comfortable bed, with rose petals spread across it, and candles were the only light in the room. The classroom where they were standing was nothing like that, but she didn't mind it: it was perfect as long as it was with him.
She gasped as he thrust inside her for the first time, which made him stop on top of her. 'Are you okay?' he whispered softly, a worried expression taking over his emerald green eyes.
'Yes,' she said hoarsely as a faint smile was drawn on her face.
He embraced her and started rocking his hips back and forth, slowly at first and gaining speed as she allowed him. It seemed like it only took her a second to be totally lost in his arms; her moans made him go crazy, she knew that. She was overcome with bliss, passion, and her orgasm came, loud as screamed his name, her nails burying in his back. Her insides twitched, her walls closing around his manhood, and she let out a muffled cry, as he also reached his own climax.
They remained connected for some more minutes, his hand caressing her face gently as closed her eyes with joy. Now she was certain: she loved him, and she was his. She felt his mouth pressing against her forehead in a caring kiss. 'I love you,' she whispered, a smile etched on her lips.
'We should keep this as quiet as possible,' he muttered, still breathless, 'For our own sake.'
'I have to agree, but you'll have to let me go with you… wherever you're going, I'm going with you.'
He nodded, making her gasp with joy. Now nothing could take them apart, not even Voldemort. She was determined to be his rock, his shoulder to cry on, and she would do it for his sake - for the sake of their newly found relationship.