Hello! Here is my take on what might happen between Harry and Hermione around the epilogue. My english is not perfect, be nice.
I hope you won't have any trouble with the french bits, nothing too complicated. A song is mentioned in the story, if you're interested it's "Ma Benz" from "Brigitte" ;)
I've lived in Paris for many years, all descriptions are accurate (to the best of my memory!) and the hotel and bookstore described do exist.
Late March 2018
"I still don't get why you must travel by plane to get there" said Ron, in disbelief.
"Because, it will be fun!" answered Harry cheerfully, closing his traveling bag.
Harry, along with the 14 others Heads of Departments of the Ministry of Magic had been invited to Paris for a two days seminar on international collaboration. Conferences and Workshops were scheduled.
British and French organizers of the event had offered the option to travel by plane in an attempt to draw awareness amongst wizards to the muggle way of living.
Harry had jumped at the chance and Hermione, who had flied regularly with her parents, was happy to accompany him for his first flight.
They had both received their formal invitations by the french Ministry weeks ago.
The refined purple and golden stationary card was in Ginny's hands.
"Oh guys! That hotel looks amazing! There's even a swimming pool!" she said enviously.
Harry smiled at his wife.
"Next time we'll go together" he told her quietly, leaning his shoulder affectionately against hers. She winked at him and kissed his cheek.
Despite the early hour, Lily and Hugo were happily chasing each others in the living room.
"Ready to fly Harry?" asked Hermione with an amused smile.
"Always"
Harry grabbed his bag, hugged his wife and saw Hermione kiss Ron goodbye.
The cab was waiting in front of the house. Lily ran to her father for a last hug.
"I'll be back tomorrow night sweety" Harry told his daughter.
Once they were settled in the cab, Hermione opened the car window to wave at Hugo.
"Hermione! Don't forget to bring me some macrons!" Ron shouted excitedly from the porch.
Hermione chuckled. "Macarons!" she corrected.
Ginny blew a kiss to Harry before closing the door and no doubt going back to bed.
Once the cab was driving them through London, Hermione leaned her head back comfortably, closed her eyes and let out a relaxed sigh.
It took them over an hour to get to the airport in the traffic. Hermione was talking excitedly about Paris and all the places she wanted to visit.
"And of course, we must go to the Louvre after the conference"
"Blimey Hermione, there's only one afternoon to do any visiting, don't get too excited" said Harry, suppressing a grin.
Harry had never travelled by plane before. He had been delighted at the idea. He simply loved flying. Surely he would love the plane too. Unsurprisingly, none of the other Heads of Departments had chosen to travel this way.
The airport was a very busy place. Harry did not know where to look.
Hundreds of muggles carrying suitcases were crossing a hall bigger than the Atrium, barely avoiding collisions. Bright screens with flight schedules were hanging from the ceiling. The buzz of the crowd was nearly deafening.
Hermione was watching Harry out of the corner of her eye, amused at his eagerness to see everything.
She took care of discreetly confunding the staff when asked for their ID's and they walked toward the security check together.
Harry was slightly surprised when the iron gate he was passing through started beeping loudly.
The security agent asked him to remove his belt and go back through the gate. Hermione was grinning at his bemused face from the other side.
"I can't keep my belt but I can keep my wand" mumbled Harry, rolling his eyes, once he was authorized to join Hermione.
At last it was time to board the plane. It was much bigger inside than Harry had expected. They found their row, Hermione offering her window seat to Harry so he could fully enjoy his first flight. He was starting to have second thoughts about that flight though. There was nothing he could do from his seat, crammed between the window and Hermione. He didn't like much the idea of having no control over his flying. Hermione was comfortably reading next to him, untroubled.
"I told you it was nothing like brooms" she said as if she had read his mind.
When the plane started on the track, Harry felt quite anxious. His hands were sweaty, he wished he had packed his broom, just in case.
He felt a soft hand gently squeeze his and glanced at Hermione. She seemed amused but sympathetic. He smiled gratefully and kept her hand in his while the plane took off.
Once they were up, Harry felt much more relaxed. The sky was bright blue above the clouds. He finally freed Hermione's hand and sighed deeply. He felt slightly ashamed by his anxiety.
"Don't tell Ron about that. I told him flying would be great. I'd never hear the end of it" he said.
Hermione chuckled next to him and he grinned at her.
The rest of the trip went well and Harry barely cringed when the plane landed.
Once in the cab that would drive them to Paris, Hermione took out her program again.
"We're supposed to be at the Ministry by 10 for the guided tour. Then we'll have lunch with everyone else. The conference starts at 14 until 16 and then we have freetime for the rest of the day." she explained.
"We won't have time to go to the hotel first" said Harry, looking at his watch.
The streets of Paris were now scrolling through the cab windows. They both looked excitedly outside as Hermione was telling Harry about the Pont Alexandre III and his four huge golden statues. The musée d'Orsay whose ceiling was an enormous glass Cupola. They even got a glimpse of the gigantic Eiffel Tower before the cab stopped.
The driver asked for payment in rapid, impatient french and Hermione handed him a few Euro bills.
"This is it, Place de Furstemberg" she said once the cab had left. "The Wallace Fountain must be at the center". She led Harry towards a very simple stone fountain surrounded by four ancient trees. Their invitation indicated they had to lean against the fountain to become invisible and activate the lift.
Sure enough, Harry and Hermione had barely touched the stone when they felt their bodies being sucked through a damp gate. The lift was beautiful. Made of black iron, it was steered by the thick roots of the four ancient trees above.
They were both stunned into silence while they descended.
"Bienvenue au Ministère de la Magie!" said a pretty witch with a soft voice at the welcoming area. "Comment puis-je vous aider?"
Hermione cleared her throat.
"Oui, bonjour, nous venons de Londres" she said, in a slight english accent.
"Oh biensur! Vos noms?" asked the welcome witch.
"Hermione Granger and Harry Potter"
The french witch did a double take when she heard Harry's name and her eyes snapped to his forehead. Acknowledging who he was, she shot him a very seductive smile. Harry grinned and cleared his throat awkwardly. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Venez avec moi Madame Granger et Monsieur Potter" commanded the witch, leading them through a door.
They both gasped loudly. They had entered the Atrium of the French Ministry. The high ceiling was made of several huge glass cupolas not unlike what they had seen while driving along the musée d'Orsay. The glass was adorned in black drawings of constellations, magical creatures and artefacts. It was stunning. Hermione was looking all around, her face eager.
The french witch led them to a meeting point where an old wizard wearing sophisticated green robes and very long white mustaches was talking to a small group of people.
Harry and Hermione recognized their fellow Heads of Offices.
"Ahhh! At last! We are now complete!" announced the old wizard joyfully, when Harry and Hermione joined the ranks of the British Ministry Heads.
The tour of the french Ministry was quite boring. Aside from the venue itself, it was not very interesting to go from office to office and shake hands. Harry did his best not to roll his eyes at every person that tried to have a proper look at his scar.
A rich, succulent late buffet lunch was served with the french Heads. There were petits fours and canapés, oysters and snails (which Harry bravely tasted), refined tarts with mushrooms, vegetables and cheeses, salmon and beef tartar and a variety of delicious wines. Harry soon found himself immersed in conversation with the french Head Auror, Martin Beaulieu. He had bright blue cheerful eyes and reddish blond hair. A long thin scar was visible on his neck, starting by his ear and disappearing under his shirt.
His french accent was strong but he was quite fluent in english. Harry actually liked the man. They were around the same age and he seemed very moderate and muggle friendly.
Hermione was talking animatedly in french with a couple of people from the French Magical Law Enforcement office at the center of the room. Harry admired her fluency in another language.
Soon it was time to move to the conference room.
Hermione seated next to Harry and grinned at him. She was clearly enjoying herself.
The conference was definitely interesting. The french Heads briefly introduced their Offices and staff and gave them their view on how to improve international collaboration. Harry listened while Hermione was writing notes frantically.
When it was over, the old wizard with white mustaches got on the stage again.
"I hope you enjoyed your day at our Ministry! We will meet tomorrow at 9 for our Workshops. In the meantime I must urge you to enjoy our beautiful city! The most wonderful and romantic city in the world! Paris IS magic! Do not hesitate to ask our welcome witch for recommendations on sightseeing and restaurants or to find your way to your hotel. Thank you and see you all tomorrow!" he concluded under a reasonable round of applause.
A small chatter erupted in the room as everyone stood up and started to exit the premises.
Their hotel was just a few streets away and Harry and Hermione walked and chatted with their fellow Heads of Departments in the cold Parisian air. Some intended to go straight to the Eiffel Tower, others (mainly the old ones) only wanted to lie down at the hotel.
Hermione and Harry decided to drop their bags at the Hotel and then go to the Louvre.
Their hotel was luxurious. The beautiful Hausmannian building opened between two ancient wooden doors with rich sea green velvet curtains on each side. A marble floor and an ornate mirror could be seen at the end of the lobby. By the lift, a dark stone sign indicated the indoor swimming pool and Jacuzzi downstairs. A very cozy salon was visible through an old glass door. Ancient and comfortable looking green and gold velvet armchairs were arranged around coffee tables. The walls were covered in mouldings and the chandeliers were luxurious. The light was cast almost exclusively from candles. Harry glanced at Hermione, she was looking at the ceiling in awe. He grinned at her and raised his eyebrows appreciatively. He gently lead her towards the welcome desk, his hand at the small of her back.
Once they got their keys, they left their traveling bags in the lobby and took the old iron elevator to the fifth floor. Hermione's room was next to Harry's. They both entered her room and Harry whistled.
The french Ministry had been generous to accommodate them in such a place.
The walls of the room were covered in a rich gold tapestry. The curtains of the canopy bed were made of a deep purple velvet. A dozen of assorted pillows were arranged on the bed.
The high window overlooked the impressive musée du Louvre on the other side of the Seine.
"This is amazing" said Hermione, in awe as she opened her bathroom door.
Harry came closer and took a peek over her shoulder. The whole bathroom was made of marble and the shower was gigantic. Height massage jets were aligned on the walls and a shower head the size of a plate was fixed to the ceiling.
"You're sure you still want to go to the museum?" asked Harry, chuckling.
Hermione giggled and let herself fall on her luxurious bed, beaming.
"Definitely"
"Alright, I'll leave you to unpack then. Let me know when you're ready"
Hermione was to busy admiring her room to answer, she just waved a hand in acknowledgment.
Harry's room was pretty much the same. Except his canopy bed had emerald green curtains. He thought of Ginny and how much she would love it. He unpacked his bag and changed, adding a few layers of clothing to face the cold.
He heard a soft knock on his door a few minutes later indicating that Hermione was ready.
The Louvre was just on the other side of the Seine.
The sky was pure white, teasing the Parisians with the idea of iminent snow.
They walked to the river banks and on a bridge. It was quite narrow and protected by metallic fences on both sides. On each fence hung hundreds of locks, in all sizes and colors. Harry was wondering why that was when Hermione answered his unasked question:
"This is le pont des Arts" she said, "It's quite old and comes with an urban legend".
"Oh?"
"Yes" she said, in a slightly scornful tone, "The Parisians say that if two people hang a lock together to the fence and throw the key in the Seine, they are bonded for life"
"Really?" said Harry, genuinely surprised, "Well that's not romantic at all" he teased.
Hermione grinned.
"It's Paris" she simply said, dreamily.
"Let's do it!" Harry exclaimed, beaming.
"What?"
"Let's hang a lock! Together! As best friends"
Hermione laughed.
"Harry, this is all nonsense, Paris is full of stupid legends" she said sardonically, "Although... the one about the Phantom of the Opera Garnier might be true…" she giggled.
"Come one Hermione, it might be rubbish but it's fun! And it's a nice way to leave our mark in Paris!" said Harry, beaming at her.
She laughed at his eager face and only slightly rolled her eyes when he conjured a small golden lock.
"Come on then" he invited her, finding a spot on the left fence.
She joined him, an amused grin on her face. They hung the lock together on a fence hole. Harry took the key off and put it in Hermione's hand. He stood beside her and gently lifted her arm over the fence. He counted to three and they let the key fall into the river.
At the exact moment the key made contact with the water, a nearly imperceptible vibration rose from the bridge.
"You felt that?" asked Harry, his brow furrowed.
Hermione just shrugged. "Come on Harry, we need to hurry if we want to have a few hours at the Louvre!"
The Louvre was a gigantic museum. Hermione dragged Harry from aisle to aisle, regularly gasping in awe and hardly containing excited shrieks. The egyptian wing made them think about Bill Weasley. The number of mysterious unopened ancient tombs and sarcophagus would drive him wild. They walked for hours in the museum, admiring Muggle and Wizard Arts in all forms.
At the end of one of the most ancient painting galleries, a small crowd was gathered under a frame. Hermione took Harry's hand and lead him to join the crowd.
"It's Mona Lisa!" she whispered.
Harry had heard of Leonardo Da Vinci famous painting before. But he was quite disappointed by the small size of it. He had imagined something bigger. Maybe that was the way fame worked. People imagine big things from famous people.
Mona Lisa was playfully looking from side to side. The muggles, unable to see her eyes moving were no less captivated by her. She winked at Harry.
By the time they exited the museum, the sky was dark and snow was finally falling thick. If possible, Paris was even more beautiful under the snow. The three glass Pyramids in the Louvre courtyard were covered in pure white. Hermione hooked her arm with Harry's and they walked towards the banks again.
They found a small, typical french bistro and were seated at a table in a far corner.
The place was a perfect mixture of ancient and new. The smell was incredible. Truffles and warm baguettes. An intoxicating music was playing, made of seductive, suave feminine voices. Hermione seated on a comfortable bench seat in dark blue fabric and Harry on a the modern metallic chair in front of her. Their table was covered by an immaculate tablecloth and a single gold candle shone in the middle.
"Look at the menu..." said Hermione, her mouth watering.
They ordered the traditional Blanquette de Veau and a red Côtes de Beaune wine to a sullen but efficient waiter.
It was delicious. And so was being here with Hermione, Harry thought. They were used to their frequent lunch breaks together at work, but it felt different and quite nice to be with her in Paris.
She was talking about their tour of the french Ministry, bombarding Harry with questions about the french Aurors when their cheese plateau arrived.
Hermione, enthusiastically cut a slice of Brie and closed her eyes in bliss when she tasted it.
"Hmmmm" she sighed.
Harry watched her, amused and surprised by her reaction to cheese.
She insisted he tasted all of them.
"Try that one too, brillat savarin" she said, leaning over the table to feed him a slice of bread with creamy cheese. Harry bit on it, his tongue soon chasing after every last taste of it in his mouth.
The french music was still playing and though Harry could not understand what it said, it made his head dizzy and his face warm. Or maybe it was the wine.
Hermione was listening to the music too, silently enjoying her cheese, cheeks pink from the wine.
"What does it say?" Harry finally asked.
Hermione seemed to come out of a trance. Her eyes shot at his face.
"The music, it's in french, what does it say?" he asked again, grinning.
She cleared her throat, looking a bit embarrassed.
"It's actually quite... naughty" she said.
"Really? It does sound sexy, but those voices are really soft…"
Hermione let out a small laugh.
"French people are gifted to make crude words sound pretty" she smirked.
"Come on, what does it say then?" Harry insisted, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
Hermione giggled and listened intently to the next few sentences of the song before answering.
"Well… it says… more or less "you're my target, I'm the arrow aiming at your…. crotch" (her cheeks went pink) "I want you to wake the beast in me" her voice faded as she listened to the next part. She cleared her throat, purposefully stopping her translation and blushing.
"Well" he smirked, "It's definitely as sexy as it sounded then" he teased, watching her long eyelashes on her cheeks while she looked anywhere but at him.
He had never noticed before how her teeth toyed with her lower lip when she was blushing.
It was quite adorable. Harry gave himself a little shake and took another sip of wine.
When their desert was cleared, they paid for their dinner and prepared to face the snow again.
The restaurant manager opened the door for them and said:
"Bonne soirée les amoureux" before winking at them. Even with his very poor french, Harry could not miss his meaning.
Before either of them could correct him, the manager shut the door, protecting the bistro from the cold outside. Harry chuckled and took Hermione's arm.
They crossed le pont des Arts again, glancing at their small lock amidst the others.
"This was nice" Harry said.
"Yeah, really good day, amazing food…" she confirmed. "I'm glad to be here with you Harry, I'm having a great time" she added, smiling warmly at him with sparkly eyes.
"Yeah, it definitely is nice" he confirmed with a lopsided grin.
He put his arm around her shoulder and they walked quietly to their hotel.
They parted in front of their rooms after a quick hug goodnight.
Harry was swimming his tenth length. His body felt oddly awake even after such a long day.
He had returned to his room earlier after saying goodbye to Hermione, only to find himself staring out the window, watching the snow fall, unable to sleep. That was when he had remembered the 24 hours swimming pool and Jacuzzi. He was now enjoying the feeling of the empty cavernous swimming pool as he turned once again under the water for another length.
When Hermione pushed the door of the swimming pool open, she was a bit irked to see that it was not empty. She had hoped for a quiet, relaxing, solo moment in the Jacuzzi.
When she realized it was Harry swimming, she smiled to herself, watching him. His body was moving fast, each of his breaststrokes made the muscles on his back undulate. It was quite hypnotic. She realized she had been staring and walked to the Jacuzzi.
As if he had felt a presence, Harry stopped swimming, looked around and spotted Hermione. He grinned.
"You, here?" he said, amused, swimming towards her at the edge of the pool.
She smiled.
"Yeah. Looks like we got the same idea"
"It does. I couldn't sleep, I needed to relax" he said, his arms on the edge of the pool. His hair was wet and messy. His naked arms glistening with water.
She nodded, took her bathrobe off and got into the Jacuzzi. Her blue bikini was visible for a brief moment before she settled in the hot water and breathed a sigh of pleasure.
"My idea of relaxing does not include exercising though" she teased, glancing at the swimming pool. "This is sooo good" she added throatily, closing her eyes.
She heard Harry get out of the pool in one swift motion.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked, grinning.
"Sure" she smiled, watching him throw his towel on a bench.
Harry entered the hot water and sat in the vacant bath seat facing Hermione, his arms comfortably resting outside the tub behind him, his chest half out of the hot water. The only sound in the cavernous room was created by the hot bubbles exploding at the surface. Hermione had her neck in the water, her damp hair wild around her face. She was watching him, a playful grin on her face.
"What?" he asked, cocking his head.
"Nothing" she said, biting her lip.
Harry took a long breath and enjoyed the feeling of the hot bubbles massaging his body.
"This is really good" he said "reminds me of the prefect's bathroom"
Hermione chuckled.
"Right? I miss that bathroom" she said, dreamily.
"I miss Hogwarts" Harry answered, stating the obvious.
"Well, I heard we are supposed to go there in June, for recruitment week?"
"Oh yeah... I had forgotten about that!" said Harry, suddenly cheerful.
Hermione rose slightly from the water, leaning her arms on the edge of the Jacuzzi behind her.
"I'm seriously thinking of sneaking up to the prefect's bathroom during our breaks" she said, her eyes full of mischief.
Harry laughed heartily.
"Good idea, maybe I'll go too"
Hermione smiled and closed her eyes again, leaning her head back on the tub edge. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, allowing the hot water to relax her body.
Her shoulders were not in the water and the top of her wet chest was rising and falling slowly with her breaths over the water. Her blue bikini top was not covering much skin.
Harry was slightly hypnotized by the drops of steam or sweat slowly trickling down her neck, over her collarbone, and in the valley of her full breasts, into the water.
The air was extremely warm and the bubbles were teasing Harry's body.
He felt Hermione's foot accidentally brush his calf and her eyes fluttered open. For a moment they simply looked in each other's eyes. It was a long, deep searching look. New, different and full of something more, something Harry could not name but seemed to send signals to his body. He gave himself a little mental shake.
"It's definitely too hot for me" he said, in a low voice, before slowly rising from the water.
Hermione watched his back as he exited the hot bath, his swim trunks low on his hips, clinging to his bum.
She felt her face flush and turned to look at the snow still falling through the window. It had started a few hours ago, Paris would soon be covered in a thick layer of snow.
"Goodnight Hermione" said Harry, with a lopsided grin.
"'Night Harry" she smiled back.
The next morning, Harry was awoken by what he could only presume was a storm coming into his room.
"It's all white! Look!" Hermione shrieked excitedly, "Look!" she said again, striding fast towards his window.
Harry grinned, rubbed his eyes and put his glasses on.
"Harry, you've got to see this!" Hermione chuckled from the window, "there's a bunch of kids having a snowball fight! And a dog with shoes! Shoes, Harry! Oh, Ron would love that" she added, giggling.
Throwing his covers aside, he hurried by her side, his shoulder against hers.
"Merlin! A dog with shoes… french people are so weird…" he said shaking his head in disbelief.
When they had both laughed their fill, Hermione turned to look at him. She suddenly became very quiet and put a little distance between them. Harry was in boxers. Only in boxers. Of course, he had been sleeping two minutes ago. He raised his eyebrows at her when she blushed.
"Well" she cleared her throat, "I'll leave you to get ready, meet me downstairs for breakfast, yeah?" she said, already closing the door behind her before he could utter an answer.
Breakfast was another culinary delight. Their coffee was small but very intense and the croissants were so good that Harry ate three.
"What?" he said when Hermione raised her eyebrows at him as he took his third croissant, "We're going home tonight, when am I supposed to get some of those again?" he said indignantly. She rolled her eyes in amusement.
They walked together to the Wallace Fountain again, automatically hooking their arms as the snow was crunching under their feet and falling thick on their heads. The city was very quiet. Parisians, it seemed, did not know how to function properly under a few inches of snow.
Harry was paired up with Martin Beaulieu, the french Head Auror he had met the previous day for this morning Workshop and Hermione left for another room with two lawyers and the Head of Justice Department. Harry watched her confidently walk away in the corridor, her hips swaying slightly.
He shook his head and looked away, only to realize that Martin was watching him with a smirk.
Harry cleared his throat and started asking questions about Auror training in France.
The morning went by very quickly. Martin was a very nice and interesting man. They exchanged over their experience as Heads Auror, their methods of training and dealing with difficult cases.
Martin also gave Harry a few advice on what to do in Paris to avoid the mass of tourists.
By noon, they were all invited to join the main conference room again for the last speech.
The same old white mustached wizard thanked them all for their visit and concluded the two-days seminar.
"One last thing!" he added before dismissing them, "Those of you who came by plane won't be able to fly back today. The airport is closed because of the snow"
Harry and Hermione glanced at each other.
"Of course you can apparate back to London but should you wish to wait for the next plane, it is my great pleasure to inform you that the french Ministry has extended your hotel booking until such time a plane is available" he announced, beaming. "With the weekend ahead, I can only urge you to accept that invitation and enjoy Paris under the snow a little longer, it is both rare and beautiful!"
"So, what do you think?" Harry asked Hermione a few minutes later while they were all gathering their parchments and quills.
"Well, the french Head of Justice has quite an old fashioned vision but her assistants are much more progressive…"
"No, I meant about the plane!" grinned Harry.
"Oh! Well, I guess we could just apparate back home" she said quietly, while fastening her bag.
"Or… we could enjoy a little more of Paris in the snow…" Harry offered slowly.
She smirked.
"I thought you might be happy to avoid flying on a plane again"
Harry laughed softly.
"Yeah… But I kind of like Paris, don't you?" he said, his heart inexplicably beating faster.
Hermione seemed to hesitate before her face split into a radiant smile.
"We could go to the Eiffel Tower… or take a boat on the river… oh, and I'm dying to see Notre Dame…" she enumerated dreamily.
"Exactly!" said Harry, smiling, "And it's all on the house, well the French house" he said smugly.
She giggled.
"Well in that case, we should write to Ron and Ginny" she simply said.
They used two Ministry owls to send notes to their spouses. There was no way of telling when the next plane would leave but surely the snow would stop falling soon.
They found a take away bistro on their way from the Ministry to the Eiffel Tower. They ate their Croque Monsieur while waiting in the line to ascend the gigantic tower. The lack of planes delivering more tourists that day was a luck and the line moved quickly. Hermione had not complained about the stairs yet when they reached the first floor of the tower. But once Harry started ascending again, his feet fast and his body light, he heard her groan and pant and suppressed a grin.
The second floor of the tower overlooked the whole of Paris. The view was spectacular. The city extended beyond their line of vision. The Seine looked like a snake slithering through the streets and ancient buildings. Hermione pointed to several monuments, explaining what they were to Harry.
The snow was still falling thick and it was very cold and windy up there. Harry could see Hermione shivering and tightening her scarf around her neck.
"Too bad we can't make one of your fire right now" he said, gently rubbing her back to create some warmth for her.
She smiled gratefully and leaned into his chest.
"I wish I could summon an extra sweater" she said through clattering teeth.
"That wouldn't be weird at all for the people down there" he chuckled.
She grinned and leaned closer into him, watching the city under them. He wrapped his arms around her. They settled in a comfortable embrace, powered by their combined body heat.
Hermione's teeth had stopped clattering long before she finally pulled away.
They reached the bottom of the Eiffel Tower again and walked by the banks.
"What do you want to do now?" asked Harry.
"I really want to go see Notre Dame, and maybe grab some hot coffee on our way"
The snow made their journey long and perilous. Harry had to hold Hermione back a few times when her feet slipped on the snow. At some point, she slipped dangerously close to the river. Her instinct made her grab Harry's arm hard, unbalancing him fatally. He slipped and fell in the snow, unintentionally dragging her down with him, flat on his chest.
"Are you okay?" she asked, grinning apologetically, still pinning him to the ground.
Harry chuckled. His whole back was wet from the snow but Hermione's face was priceless.
"Better here than in the river" he said.
She nodded gravely and started laughing. Her infectious laugh soon claimed him too.
Feeling considerably warmer with Hermione's body still on his chest, he grabbed her waist and helped her up.
After that, he made sure to keep a firm hold on her arm for the rest of the journey.
They finally reached the forecourt of Notre Dame, arm in arm. The bright stone facade was impressive in the late afternoon sunset light. The falling snow adding to the beauty of the scenery.
The cathedral was already closed and Hermione looked a bit disappointed.
"Come on, I've got a surprise for you" said Harry, suddenly taking her hand "It's just a couple of streets from here"
She raised her eyebrows at him, curious and happy to obey the pressure of his hand.
He kept her hand until they reached their destination. When Hermione spotted the dark green facade of an ancient bookstore, she beamed.
"Shakespeare and Company?" she read on the sign, squeezing his hand.
"I thought you might like it" he answered simply.
"Harry, I love it! Let's go inside!" she said excitedly, dragging him towards the door.
The shop was warm and a smell of parchment invaded their nostrils.
Wooden shelves were packed with old books and comfortable armchairs were arranged in every corner.
Harry could not keep the smile off his face. Hermione was simply radiant. In her element. She was picking books after books from the shelves, her face concentrated when she read.
The vision took him back in the past, 20 years ago, in the Hogwarts library.
After a few minutes, Hermione took her winter jacket off and settled in an armchair with a book.
Harry understood they would be staying for a while and he started exploring the shop.
He walked the aisles randomly for a while until he found a beautifully illustrated kid story about Paris for Lily and went looking for Hermione again.
She was on her tiptoes, trying to catch a book on the highest shelf. Her sweater rose a few inches when she extended her arm, showing the top of her hip and her belly. Her skin was diaphanous and smooth.
She turned her head and caught Harry's stare on her skin.
"Would you help me?" she asked.
Coming out of his trance, Harry hurried to get the book.
"Thanks" she said, in a faint voice.
He busied himself, absently grabbing a book from a large pile in the nearest display stand.
"Are you really going to read that?" she smirked, looking at the book in his hands.
"Fifty shades of grey?" he read, ignorant. "Yeah, why not?"
She sneered at him.
"Do you even know what it's about?" she asked, her eyes narrowed, barely suppressing a smirk.
Harry read the back cover and chuckled.
"Yeah, maybe not" he admitted, grinning sheepishly and putting the book back on the table.
Once Hermione was done buying half of the bookstore, night had fallen outside. The sky was uncommonly white, restlessly unloading snow over Paris.
"I need to shrink these" she said absently, looking around for a secluded spot.
She lead the way into a deserted narrow paved street and took out her wand.
"Reducio" she whispered while Harry was shielding her from view against the wall.
"Thank you Harry, it was a nice surprise" she said.
Harry turned around to face her. "Martin told me about that place, I thought you'd like it" he explained.
She beamed at him again. They were very close. She leaned on her tiptoes and slowly kissed his cheek, brushing his ear with her mouth on her way. Their eyes met. That long, deep searching look was back again.
"Dinner?" asked Harry abruptly, clearing his throat.
"Oh yes!" Hermione nodded fervently, taking his arm again. "I want more of that french food" she said with appetite while they walked randomly in the streets.
They found a small restaurant, the sign read Nourriture bistronomique and it seemed to appeal to Hermione.
Once they were settled in rich red velvet banquettes, Harry ordered a bottle of Champagne.
"You know how to talk to me" she joked, approving his choice.
"I guess it's probably our last night in Paris, we might as well do it well" he smiled.
The waiter poured them two glasses, one hand gracefully tucked behind his back.
"To us" said Harry, raising his glass.
"Us and our... what… 25 years of friendship? Gosh, we're old!" she said, rolling her eyes.
Harry chuckled.
"Maybe, but you haven't changed" he winked at her.
"Well thank you Harry" she smiled warmly.
They drank and fell into easy, light conversation about their kids at Hogwarts. Harry's honey duck breasts were delicious and Hermione ate every last bite of her royal sea bream. They kept talking and laughing, drinking champagne until the cheese arrived and Hermione ordered a bottle of red Cote Rotie.
Her cheeks were pink and she had discarded her sweater on the back of her chair. Her plain white blouse was v-neck and a thin golden chain disappeared somewhere behind the fabric, between her breasts. Harry wondered what pendant was at the end of it... He thought Hermione might have caught his stare again because her eyes were suddenly looking for his. She did not blush or scold, she just stared. It was so intense that he could only stare back silently. It felt as if their eyes were communicating things that they could not or would not understand.
After a while, Harry looked away, his mind racing over wild and out of place thoughts. Yet, by the way Hermione was faintly blushing, he wondered if she was struggling with her own thoughts too. Dessert was more quiet. Hermione seemed to be avoiding his gaze and he tried not to let his eyes linger on her to often. There was something heavy in their silences, that had never been there before.
Once they had eaten their red wine and cinnamon poached pear, Harry insisted on paying the bill.
"Come on, I'm happy to! You can buy our next meal" he insisted when she tried to object.
"Thank you" she said, squeezing his arm gently.
She left ten euros as tip on the table and put her jacket on.
"Is it ever going to stop snowing?" asked Hermione quietly, two minutes later.
The snow was still falling and was now as high as Harry's knees. They had to cast impervious charms on their legs to keep them dry. The streets were almost deserted. The banks were slightly more protected from the snow and it was easier to walk there than in the narrow streets.
Hermione shivered and tightened her jacket as they walked. The arm that was resting atop Harry's moved to circle his waist as she leaned into his side.
"It was lovely" she said, "But damn, it's freezing"
Harry took her hand. It was very cold. He gently brushed his thumb on her palm, her phalanges, until their fingers were untwined. The sound of an accordion playing was audible in the distance.
They walked silently, hand in hand towards the music. Harry noticed how synchronized their paces were. As if they had been walking together their whole lives. It felt right, comfortable. Her hand was soft and warm in his while his thumb kept brushing her palm, sending waves of heat to her.
Soon, they reached the origin of the music. A small group of people was dancing on the banks, their laughter echoing in the snowy sky. They walked past the dancers and Harry stopped to face Hermione.
She laughed softly when he twirled her around, letting go of her hand only to hold her waist. She smiled and put her arms around his neck, dancing soundlessly in the snow.
She felt warm and comfortable in his arms. And something else... The music stopped and she looked at him. There was a twinkle in her eyes.
That feeling, that unidentified feeling that held their eyes locked together was back. Only this time it seemed to affect their bodies too. Harry was feeling very aware of every spot of his body where it was in contact with Hermione's. Something was different in the way she looked at him tonight too. It felt inviting, magnetic. Obeying to that strange pull, Harry leaned towards Hermione, their foreheads touching.
He let his lips hover very close over hers, feeling her hot breath so close to his lips. Time froze. Hermione became utterly still, until even her breathing seemed to have stopped.
Then, she slowly raised her hands to his hair and pulled him down gently to her lips.
The contact was very light, soft and warm and lasted only a second but Harry felt dizzy, intoxicated, restless. He opened his eyes to look at her. Her eyes were still closed and she was biting her lower lip.
"Let's go" he said quietly, taking her hand again and directing them towards their hotel.
Hermione's eyes were darting along the corridor as they reached her bedroom door.
Without a word, Harry gently brushed snowflakes from her hair, his fingers lingering on her face, cupping her cheek. His thumb traced her lips.
Hermione's eyes locked with his, reflecting something between panic and that other, strong feeling hanging between them since the previous night. And suddenly, that feeling became very clear to Harry. It was want. As a primal part of his brain switched on, grasping with what his body and Hermione's eyes were telling him, he kissed her.
His eyes closed instantly as his mouth moved slowly against hers. One hand in her hair, the other on her waist. Her soft lips were warm and felt so incredibly soft. Excitement and fear invaded him, emptying his brains and arousing his body fast.
As Hermione slowly pulled away, he gently bit her lower lip.
"Harry… we can't" she whispered.
She looked scared and desperate and on the verge of tears.
"I know" he said.
"What are we doing?" she whispered, more to herself, sounding terrified.
But then she lowered her gaze to his lips and he saw the desperation in her eyes ignite with desire. Desperate and unconcealable desire. Without answering her, he slowly bent towards her lips again.
This time, he returned to her lips greedily, making her gasp. His hands went to the sides of her face and he held her firmly as he probed her lips with his tongue, begging for entry.
Her lips parted and he felt her tongue graze his. Hesitant at first, then demanding. Her taste filled his mouth and shut off his brain. Soft, exquisite little sounds were escaping her throat. Powerful sounds that made Harry pin her against the door and kiss her deeper.
"Harry..." she whimpered against his mouth.
Panting, he pulled away, their foreheads touching. Harry took a deep, slow breath and looked at her.
"Open the door, Hermione" he demanded in a deep, low voice.
He heard her breath catch and she became utterly still, her forehead against his. Something incommensurably final was hanging between them for what seemed like an eternity, suspended to her next move.
Then, she slowly turned the key behind her back, her eyes never leaving his.
As soon as the "click" of the lock was heard, Harry leaned down to devour her neck. Hermione gasped loudly and suddenly her hands were all over his shoulders, his back.
Somehow, the door had opened fully under their weights and they entered Hermione's room, their mouths moving madly against each other's, their tongues fighting for dominance.
Hermione's jacket was pulling at her feet before she realized it.
Harry's hands were firm on her waist, his mouth suckling on her neck.
"This is wrong" she moaned as his tongue played with her earlobe. "So wrong" she cried when she felt one of his hand cup her breast.
Harry pulled away, panting.
"I know" he whispered again.
His eyes were a darker shade of green, some animalistic quality in them. His mouth was ringed red and his hair messier than usual. Hermione felt irresistibly attracted to him, like a magnet to a metallic board.
She bit her lip, took a deep breath and realised with terror that, really, she was so screwed.
She crashed her body against his and started kissing him furiously. She could hear his groans as her tongue probed, caressed and danced with his.
His hands found the buttons of her blouse, the clasps of her bra, the zip of her trousers. She sent his sweater and shirt pooling at their feet.
Harry took a step back, seeing her fully for the first time and any sense of sanity left in him disappeared instantly.
"You're so fucking beautiful" he said, biting his lip.
Something went even darker in his eyes and Hermione felt the heat coming from him in waves, infecting her, radiating between her legs and making her body crave his touch.
"Touch me, Harry" she asked in a whisper.
Suddenly, his hands were everywhere, exploring, adventurous while his tongue was back in her mouth. Her hands searched for his bum and she pushed his hips flat against hers.
"Oh god" she moaned, feeling his hardness against her belly.
Harry was licking his way down to her nipple, one of his hands slithering in her underwear, making her gasp.
He gently caressed her opening, slick and soft under his fingers.
"You're so wet for me…" he groaned in her ear when his fingers entered her.
Hermione was breathing fast, lost in his touch. Her eyes shut close and Harry was supporting most of her weight. Her head was spinning, her breasts tingling. She could not have ran away even if she had wanted to. Because this was Harry. And it felt so fucking good, so fucking perfect. Illicit but inescapable.
The room was full of her moans. She felt his thumb circle her clit and her eyes rolled back in her head. She could feel his rapid breaths in her neck while he sucked on her skin, his erection pressed hard on her belly. Harry's erection...
A wave of pure lust hit her and she reached out for his belt.
He pulled away to get rid of his trousers and then they were on her bed. He had a mad glint in his eyes as he slowly slid her knickers down her legs.
And then, he was on top of her, his boxers gone. Their hot naked skins touching fully for the very first time.
"I want you so much…" he whispered.
Hermione had lost the ability to talk but she nodded imperceptibly and something passed between them, like a vibration of hearts, linking their bodies and souls in that transcendent moment. It was like standing on the very edge of a high cliff.
Then, his dark eyes locked in hers, he entered her, making them both moan.
Sin and Perfection.
Pleasure flooded their bodies as Harry thrusted slowly into her. He could feel her tightness, her warmth and her wetness with increased sensitivity. His mind was screaming to him this is Hermione, your Hermione. And he could feel all of her. Madness claimed him and he kissed her again, thrusting harder, swept away by her moans. The purple curtains of the canopy bed were soon moving around them as if a storm was raging inside the room. His groans were echoing around the luxurious room.
And then, Hermione's eyes shut, her eyebrows drawn together in bliss and she let out a long, liberating moan of ecstasy. And it was the most fucking beautiful thing in the world right now for Harry. He felt a shiver run from his neck to his toes and he growled in her ear as his own orgasm hit him.
Hermione's eyes were wide open, her back flush against Harry's body. The night was still dark through the curtains. They had drifted to sleep at some point earlier, only to awake a few hours later, naked and huddled together in the beautiful canopy bed. Hermione's silent tears were running down her face as Harry held her firmly.
There weren't words strong enough to express what he felt. Or to soothe her.
Sin and Guilt. And want.
"I feel so good with you…" he whispered in her neck, "so fucking good…" he rasped, tightening his hold on her.
Despite her tears, Harry felt her slowly arch her back against him.
His hands travelled to her thigh, caressing her gently. His mouth trailing warm kisses along her shoulder. He could see her nipples hardening.
"No one can ever know…" she whispered.
"They won't" he promised in a growl as he entered her again, his teeth grazing her shoulder blade.
The white light of the snowy sky was slowly illuminating the room. Their exhausted bodies had rested for a few hours. The comfort and warmth Hermione felt in Harry's arms was overwhelming as she was kissing him, slowly, lazily, her tongue soft and gentle. His deep, low gorans were reverberating at her.
"I want to taste you" he growled in her mouth.
Harry heard her breath catch in her chest but already her legs were parting, seductively slowly.
His heartbeat was racing as he lowered his body until his eyes leveled with her gorgeous, wet center. His cock twitching and hardening. When his tongue touched her clit for the first time, Hermione's legs started to shake.
"So fucking delicious..." he rasped from between her thighs.
His voice made her whimper. He cast her one last deep, hungry look and disappeared between her thighs again. She could not take her eyes off Harry's dark hair between her legs. So wrong but so fucking hot. Harry. Hermione was lost, lost in her own pleasure and arousal for him. His tongue was slow and gentle at first. Then it became hard and purposeful and her hips jerked. He sucked noisily at her clit and she hissed through her teeth. Harry. Two fingers entered her and her head fell back on the pillow. Heavy and dizzy. The pumping of his fingers and the dance of his tongue pushed Hermione over the edge within blissful minutes. When she orgasmed, he dutifully kept licking her until her thighs closed hard against his head in a last spasm. She was still shaking when his erection slid into her.
Harry could barely hold back. Hermione's taste was still on his tongue and her soft, tired moans made him ache for his release. She looked at him, want and tenderness in her eyes, and it was the most beautiful and arousing thing in the world.
But suddenly Hermione was pushing him off, shifting their positions until she was straddling him.
Harry felt a grin split his face as she looked down at him, her desire burning in her eyes. Her body was beautiful and perfect on top of him in the morning light. The vision of her full breasts above him was stunning. Her eyes were greedy as she slowly rocked back and forth, back and forth until Harry could no longer keep control. He grabbed her waist and thrusted hard into her. Hermione's body was jumping up and down on him.
At some point, she seemed to decide that she wanted to be in control. She pushed Harry back, stilling him and placed his hands on her breasts making him smirk. Then, shooting him a coy smile he had never seen on her before, she started rocking again at an excruciating slow and torturous pace. Harry's smirk dissolved fast and she could see the desperation in his eyes as he ached for his release.
"Oh god, keep doing that" he asked, his voice unstable.
His eyes were hungrily sweeping over her face, her breasts as she slowly rode him to orgasm.
She had never even dreamt of seeing him looking at her that way. Harry's dark green eyes full of lust and ecstasy... It was beyond exquisite.
She felt him spill inside her as his eyes snapped shut and he bit his lip hard. It was so damn sexy that it made her come with him, moaning his name. "Harry…"
They were both panting when he put the covers back on their bodies. He circled Hermione with his arms, his warm mouth kissed her neck gently and he fell asleep within seconds.
Harry stood by the window, watching the deserted white banks along the river. The sun was high but hardly visible in the angry white sky.
He glanced at Hermione. She was soundly asleep on her stomach, her back rising slowly with each of her quiet breathes. Looking back at the window, his eyes lingered on the snow falling in fast twirls. The weather had turned into a snow storm. There would be no plane today. Harry sighed. Paris was trapping them into their own folly. Allowing them, encouraging them to sin.
Never in his life Harry had imagined he would cheat on his wife. Never in his life Harry had imagined he would fuck Hermione again and again and again like he could never get enough of her, like their bodies were made for each other's. How could they have done that? Why had they opened that pandora box of sin? Why did it feel so fucking perfect to be with her when it was so wrong? Had it always been there, dormant, patiently waiting to explode?
He knew their guilt was swimming dangerously close to the surface, threatening to drown them at any moment.
And yet, neither of them had suggested to apparate home.
Harry suddenly noticed that Hermione's slow breathing was gone. He turned around and saw her staring at him. How long had she been looking at him silently? He stared back. Maybe she saw the desperation and guilt in his eyes because suddenly she was moving towards him, a thin white sheet trapped under her arms. She held him in a firm but gentle hug, whispering soothing words in his ear. Her own tears were trickling down her face as they comforted each other. Both equally victim and guilty.
After what felt like hours of a warm embrace, Hermione broke apart and took his hand. Silently, she lead him to the bathroom and ran the water.
The steam was obscuring the mirror by the time they entered the shower together.
Hermione directed the stream of hot water on Harry's body, gently rubbing his arms, his back, his chest, his stomach. The smell of rose soap invaded their nostrils. Her hands were sliding on his skin with such tenderness that he soon felt lighter, momentarily at peace.
But Harry's body was already reacting to the vision of a naked and wet Hermione.
She felt it against her hip before she saw it. And then she was kissing him, a slow, languorous kiss as her hand grabbed his erection. He felt himself harden between her smooth, wet fingers.
She pulled away, to look in his eyes. He could not read her. Or maybe he wasn't sure he was reading her right, his brains had stopped working again. But she made it clear when she kneeled in front of him.
Harry sucked a breath through his teeth when he felt her tongue slowly circle his cock.
He leaned back against the shower wall, the jets of water massaging his back.
His low groans sounded loud in the enclosed shower, mingled with Hermione's tiny suckling sounds. His fingers went to her hair as heaps of pleasure invaded him.
"Fuck... Hermione" he hissed.
He shot a glance down at her and nearly lost control. She was looking at him, his cock sliding in and out of her hot, wet mouth. Harry could not remember seeing anything as sexy as this, ever. He growled. They both knew how close he was. He tried to gently push her back but she held him firmly.
"I want to taste you too" she said.
"Fuck…"
Harry surrendered. His head fell back against the wall. He tried to control his jerking hips but soon he was coming in her mouth. Hermione sucked him deep and swallowed.
Harry's legs were still shaking when he felt Hermione mouth on his neck. He opened his eyes.
"You're fucking amazing" he panted, unable to suppress a lazy grin.
They washed each other thoroughly, hands lingering on forbidden spots. Looks and smiles conveying more meaning than words.
"We need food" said Hermione once they were both in bathrobes.
The next 24 hours went in a haze. As the sun rose again, snow was still falling, but lazy and thin.
The smell of sex in the room was intoxicating. Some time after their fifth round, Harry had simply stopped thinking altogether. Only a feeling of perfection and his pure lust for Hermione had remained. They slept and fucked and ate. And then they fucked and slept and fucked again. They laughed and smiled but barely talked. Some sort of silent tacit agreement seemed to have occured. Sex in Paris. Then we go home, back to Ron and Ginny. Back to being friends. As if nothing ever happened. And never a word about it.
The hotel stationary card was lying on the table. Their plane would take off in four hours.
Hermione brought her coffee to her lips. She was looking at the snow, thinning on the ground outside.
Harry could sense the change in her this morning. She was very quiet and pale.
"This is the most horrible thing I've ever done" she simply stated in a sad voice.
"I did not plan this either you know" he answered quietly, watching her.
She nodded.
"We are going to carry that burden forever" she said, a tear running down her face.
Harry cupped her cheek and wiped her tear away with his thumb.
"I will never forget… And I don't want to" he whispered, slowly.
Time before their flight was getting scarce. It was almost over.
Harry leaned down and kissed her. She sighed and kissed him back. The taste of coffee was bitter on their tongues but her hands were moving extremely gently in his hair, as if she was trying to engrave the feel of it in her memory forever.
"We can never tell anyone..." she whispered as Harry pinned her against the cold window.
"This belongs to us, only us..." he confirmed, tugging at her bathrobe belt.
"And this is the last time... " she whispered as Harry turned her around, pushing her naked breasts flat against the freezing window.
He pinned her hands to the glass and pushed himself hard into her. She gasped for air, her body trapped between the window and Harry's forceful, desperate thrusts. The snow had stopped falling.
A moan escaped her throat.
"This… is… the… last… time…" panted Harry between hard thrusts as if to sink the words into his own lust-addled brains.
She could see the empty, white streets below. A thin mist covered the window every time she moaned.
The whole of Paris could see them if they were watching now. But no one would ever know.
Hermione was crying silently as she paid for Ron's macarons Ladurée at the counter of the airport. As the plane took off, she did not reach for Harry's hand but her head fell on his shoulder and he closed his stinging eyes as he gently stroked her cheek.
They exchanged a last look before disapparating to their respective homes, their eyes were full of tenderness and loss.
A look that conveyed what they both knew: It's ours, no one can ever know.
Fin