A/N: There's that scene in HP7.2 where Ron and Hermione are opening the Chamber and Ron mentions that Harry speaks in his sleep and asks Hermione if she's ever noticed, her expression looks so guilty when she says she's never noticed and I've always wondered about that. I know those are just the movies and in the books it's different, but I thought I'd try and add something to the way she reacted to Ron's question. There may be one or two more chapters after this. Warning: this is not edited, I simply typed it out just now and decided to post it as I won't have internet for the next few days. Let me know what you think! :)
Not my characters, everything belongs to Jo. Only thing that is mine is the plot. Enjoy!
The wind blew softly through the surrounding trees, their leaves rustling gently. It was a quiet she hadn't heard in years; almost eerily so, but not really.
The forest was much the same as the last time she had been here. The only difference was the season and perhaps her as well.
It had been winter then. She remembered the cold and how it had seeped into her very bones. Though the chill she felt those nights she had spent here wasn't only from that, but also from the loneliness she had been feeling, the helplessness of a young adult who had no idea how the future was going to turn out.
She was obviously younger then, innocent to an extent; she was a part of the war after all.
Her world was so different then. Her thoughts had revolved around helping Harry, being there for Harry, rescuing Harry, praying for Harry, doing everything she could possibly do for Harry.
She remembered staying up to guard their tent while Harry fell into a restless sleeps. He muttered and shifted a lot; he was not a restful sleeper.
Some things he muttered were indistinguishable, some things weren't. He called out for his parents most of the time, his godfather Sirius as well. He would thrash around at times, crying and yelling out for Cedric to watch out, for Dumbledore to save himself, for Ron to come back. Hermione would have to wake him up then and he would struggle for a moment until he realized where he was and who he was with. The expression on his face would change instantly from one of fear and anger to calmness and an air of helplessness. He would lie back and they would stare at each other for a while, neither saying a word, but both knowing exactly what the other was thinking.
They were on their own.
There were other times that Harry would mutter in his sleep but they were more private things, thing that made Hermione blush. Just because they were in the middle of a war on the run from Voldemort and searching for bits of his soul didn't mean that Harry wasn't still a hormonal teenage boy, he had urges. Urges that Hermione had as well; urges that she hoped hadn't been revealed in her dreams as Harry's had been.
It had been one particular evening that Hermione was keeping watch yet again while Harry had drifted off next to her outside, bundled up in sweaters, blankets and anything to keep him warm. Hermione had placed a jar of blue flames next to him as well.
Whether it had been the fact that they had been speaking for hours, had had a good meal, and were more comfortable than usual that led to Harry's muttering that night, Hermione would never be sure.
It had started off with some mumbling, words not forming right because Harry was so exhausted that his mouth could not form the words to completion. Hermione had eyed him fondly until he started to moan a bit and then she knew what kind of dreams he was having. Her cheeks turned red then despite the cold weather. Of course this had not been the first time this had happened, but it was still uncomfortable for her to hear her best friend having a sex dream. She had taken out her wand to cast a silencing spell when something that oddly sounded like her name came out of Harry's mouth. Hermione sat still wondering if what she had heard was right. She refrained from casting the spell and leant towards Harry straining her ears in case he spoke again.
"Mmmmm, Her-my-knee…" he had breathed.
Hermione's eyes went wide at the obvious moaning of her name. She's never heard Harry say her name like that. She felt the heat travel to all places of her body and couldn't take her eyes off him. His dream was obviously about her, and he was enjoying it!
There had been a few times where he'd have these dreams but never, never had he had them about her, or muttered her name for that matter like he had just now.
She drew her lip in, embarrassed for herself and for Harry knowing he would not like the idea of her listening in on him during this private occurrence. It was one thing to listen to him relive the horrors of his past, it was a completely different thing to hear him moan in pleasure to dreams about her.
After hearing her name a few more times Hermione hastily cast the spell she had initially intended to cast before turning her head away from Harry and forcing herself not to stare at him.
The next few days Hermione tried to pretend she hadn't heard what she had heard. Harry took notice almost immediately her different attitude towards him but didn't say anything. Hermione was extremely grateful for this.
It wasn't until after their near run in with Voldemort in Godrics Hallow that he finally brought it up.
Hermione was sitting inside the tent at the small work table they had set up. She was going over the ruins book again in search of that pesky symbol that seemed to keep cropping up everywhere.
Harry had just come in from a walk he had taken after he had discovered his wand had been broken by Hermione by accident. He had been angry and sulky, and Hermione gave him his space after she had revealed his shattered wand to him. She also needed her own space after revealing her thoughts about wanting to give up this search and this war and just staying put in the woods with Harry, to grow old with him. She didn't know what made her say it and she quickly told him about what she had discovered about Dumbledore and when he asked for his wand she was almost grateful to tell him what happened to it as to have a reason to stay out of his way for a while.
But it didn't last long.
He had approached her quietly, sitting across from her at the table. She tensed at his presence and closeness, avoiding looking at him.
"Hermione?" he spoke quietly. She hummed in response, keeping her eyes focused on the page she was pretending to study.
"I-I wanted to ask if you've been feeling alright?" Hermione nodded her head then.
"Yes, I'm fine." She decided to say hoping Harry would drop his questioning, but he didn't.
"Are you? You've been acting so… distant." Hermione looked up then and caught Harry's eye, she cast around for a different focal point because she knew she'd turn red and give herself away if she kept eye contact with him.
"I just feel horrible about your wand Harry…" she began but Harry reached out and grabbed her hand that was resting next to her book. Her eyes immediately found his again and stayed locked on them.
"It's not just that, you've been acting this way since before that." Her mind went to that night that Harry had muttered her name. She had wondered briefly what he had been dreaming and dreamt a bit of it herself. She could picture his lips on her collarbone, his hands traveling down her back. She snapped out of her reverie and knew her cheeks were now flooded with color. Harry eyed her reaction and narrowed his eyes slightly. He would not let it drop now. Hermione lowered her gaze towards his hand that was still rested atop of hers and spoke.
"I heard you dreaming the other night… you were talking in your sleep again." Harry withdrew his hand then sharply. Hermione looked up and saw the understanding there in his eyes. He thought she meant his nightmares, not his fantasies. She knew Harry well, and if she left it there, he would not budge, he did not like talking about those dreams.
But she didn't.
"You muttered my name… more like, moaned it actually." She spoke lowly and shifted in her seat a bit before focusing on Harry again.
His reaction had been one of relief, curiosity, and then embarrassed understanding. His face had glowed pink then and he too shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Apparently he remembered that dream well then.
"You-," he cleared his throat, "you heard that then?" he asked. Hermione nodded slowly.
They were silent for a while, both not knowing where to go from there. Hermione wished she hadn't spoken at all and was about to say so when Harry beat her to it.
"We were here you know, sitting like this, talking about Ron." Anger sparked at Hermione at the mention of his name. But then she felt confused, they hadn't spoken about him in ages. Then she understood, he was telling her about the dream.
"You- you said you were angry at him and that you wanted to just forget about him and I told you, you can't because you were in love with him, then you started to cry and I held you for a moment and then we started to kiss and then we were in my bunk, Hermione I'm sorry. I didn't, I don't know why… I just… It was just a dream you know, you must have them as well-" he stopped short realizing what he had just said.
Hermione turned redder at the mention of herself having similar dreams. It was true, she had dreamt about Harry like that before, sometimes at night when she couldn't help it, and sometimes during the day when she could.
She could have denied it, but she didn't. Instead she nodded her head.
"Sometimes." She mumbled looking down at her hands and wondering how their conversation had reached this point.
"What do you dream about?" Harry's voice was different then and Hermione, startled, looked up to see that he was serious about knowing, but obviously more curious. There was a shifty grin forming on his lips and Hermione felt a little more at ease knowing Harry wasn't disgusted to know she had dreamt about him like that before. She let out a slow breath.
"Well, sometimes it just starts out with us kissing and we end up in my bunk or your bunk. Sometimes it's really fast and then I wake up and other's we-we take our time." Hermione looked back at Harry and was surprised to see his eyes were darker, almost hungry in a way. Hermione felt the heat in her cheeks travel to the pit of her stomach and she suddenly felt hotter.
They had watched each other for a moment before things started to get… odd.
Harry had nodded then and risen abruptly leaving the tent and leaving Hermione slightly hurt and confused.
She must have scared him after all, she thought bitterly going back to her book.
Was she that off putting? Did Harry feel ashamed that he could have dreams about his bookish, bushy haired friend? Because Hermione wasn't ashamed at all! Harry was everything a girl could want. Noble, brave, intelligent, funny, handsome, and just… wonderful. He cheered her up when she was sad, he protected her when she was scared. He reassured her when she was lost. He was… everything.
Hermione abandoned her reading then because her thoughts of Harry were too much to think idly about while trying to decipher ruins.
She went to her bunk and flopped down onto it thinking more about everything Harry had been and was to her.
Her thoughts of Harry soon turned to the usual fantasies and she got so caught up in it all she didn't realize Harry's return.
He approached her quietly. Hermione turned to him then and saw something in his eyes that had been there earlier that she couldn't quite describe. Now she knew what it was.
Need.
She knew it now, because she felt it too.
He came closer and Hermione held her breath as he silently asked if he could share her bunk. She shifted over to give him some space. He lay beside her slowly and the closeness of him was overwhelming.
His scent was all over her, his warmth reaching deep inside her, deeper than the cold ever could.
They were facing each other after adjusting to the small space. Harry's left hand rested on her upper arm his eyes boring into hers.
Hermione's breath was shallow not knowing what was going to happen.
She'd only been kissed twice. Once by Viktor when she was 14 and then again when she was 17 by Cormac.
She knew Harry might have more experience with Cho and with Ginny perhaps. She forced that thought away, pushing the guilt into a hidden box in her mind.
Harry's eyes flicked towards her lips and Hermione moistened them with her tongue subconsciously. She eyed his lips as well and then he leaned forward and pressed his to hers.
Hermione's eyes fluttered at the contact. She pressed herself closer to Harry and opened her mouth to him.
His kisses were soft and gentle, every now and then moving his head closer to hers to increase the pressure of them. Each time he did so Hermione felt the heat in her stomach move lower and lower towards the area between her thighs.
Her hands rested on his chest, her left hand being held by his right while his other hand rested just behind her ear, his thumb on her cheek.
Soon the pressure in his kisses became more frenzied and intense and Hermione responded by pulling his bottom lip into her mouth, nipping gently. Harry hissed and kissed her fiercer. His hand that had been on her cheek traveled down her neck towards her chest and grabbed her breast. She moaned at the contact, never being touched there before.
He fondled her over her jumper for a while before she lifted her right arm to hook around his shoulder, effectively bringing him closer and giving him access to go beneath her jumper.
His hands had been cool as they brushed her warm skin before resting on her breast again and squeezing it to the point where Hermione's hip involuntarily bucked forwards into Harry's. He smiled into their kissing and Hermione did as well.
Soon his hand traveled down her stomach again towards the hem of her jeans.
He paused from kissing her and brushed his nose against hers.
"Is this… are you…" Hermione nodded her head quickly.
"Yes…" she breathed.
They helped each other remove their clothes, laughing gently at the awkward positions they had to take, and the surprising difficulty it took to pull of jeans.
Soon Hermione was just in her ratty discolored bra and panties, and Harry was in his ratty overused boxers.
Hermione felt self conscious then knowing the pallor of her skin was pasty and that it must make her under things look extremely ratty, but Harry didn't seem to care.
He buried his face in her neck, his hand reached between her thighs to feel her.
His gentle rubbing felt good, different from anything she had ever felt before.
They kissed heatedly for a while, their lips puffy and red when they parted for Hermione and Harry to finally remove the last pieces of clothes they were wearing.
They then adjusted themselves to where Harry rested atop of Hermione, he legs open for him.
She hoped in the dim lighting of the tent he could not see the untamed hair between her legs, or the softness of her belly, or the fact that one breast was slightly bigger than the other.
These thoughts ran through her head as he kissed her neck softly coming down to her breasts where he licked and suckled gently on each before positioning himself at her entrance.
Hermione felt suddenly nervous, not knowing how much this was going to hurt, but she knew she wanted to do this. She knew she wanted her first time to be with Harry.
Hermione placed shaky hands on Harry's waist, reassuring him that she wanted this and he pushed into her gently. It was painful. Hermione sucked in a breath but told him to keep going. He did and suddenly she screamed out at the stinging sensation she knew to be the loss of her innocence.
Harry kept still, his eyes wide.
"Are you okay?" he asked frightened. Hermione nodded, wincing at every tiny movement.
"Yes, I'm alright… Just give me a second." Harry nodded and kept still, probably afraid to hurt her some more.
After a while she nodded her head and Harry began to move. Hermione winced every now and then at the pain but grit her teeth against it and let Harry continue moving in and out of her.
His gaze centered on Hermione the entire time hemoved. He kissed her lips and her eyes, her nose, her neck, everywhere he could reach while staying inside her.
Hermione kissed him back as fervently as Harry did, trying to convey that she was in pleasure, when in fact; she was in all sorts of pain.
How could women enjoy this torture? Did it ever get pleasurable?
But when Harry asked if she was enjoying it, she nodded and would moan and hiss hoping it sounded like she was in pleasure instead of pain.
Soon Harry's pace increased, as well as his breathing, it took everything in Hermione's power to keep herself from telling him to stop because it was too painful.
She forced the tears behind her eyes to stay put as Harry began to pound into her frantically, his eyes squeezing shut.
"I'm cumming Hermione…" and with a few more frantic movements Harry spilled himself inside her and then became still.
Hermione's vagina seemed to throb as Harry rested atop her breathing heavily and sweating on her slightly. She had always heard of how magical first times were, but this had been far from that.
When Harry asked again if she was okay, she hid her disappointment well and smiled up at him.
But when he pulled out and saw all the blood, his expression changed and she knew she couldn't lie.
"I hurt you didn't I?" he asked after they had dressed, and cleaned the mattress with a quick scorgify spell.
Hermione winced as she sat down again next to Harry. She couldn't lie.
"Yes… it did hurt."
"Then why didn't you tell me to stop! I feel like a bloody idiot for doing this to you!" Hermione reached out to him, her hand resting on his thigh squeezing it and forcing him to look at her.
"Harry, it's not like you forced me to do this, I wanted to… I wanted you to be my first." She spoke with such sincerity, with such truthfulness; she knew Harry was going to believe her because she wasn't lying. She did want Harry to be her first.
Harry had relaxed then and pulled her closer.
That night they slept in Hermione's bunk. Harry fell to sleep quicker than Hermione and for once, did not mumble in his sleep.
It was a while before they were able to have sex again. Harry was against it completely, not wanting to hurt Hermione again, but she knew that if they did it again and again, eventually it wouldn't hurt so much.
The second time they did it was much less painful, though Hermione did limp a bit afterwards, from the soreness between her thighs. But she hid it well, promising Harry it was getting better.
It wasn't until the fourth time they did it that it felt more like what sex was supposed to feel like.
Hermione had squeezed her eyes shut as Harry entered her and then let out a low moan when she realized it felt good for once.
Harry, encouraged, picked up his pace a bit and Hermione moaned again.
"Harry… oh Harry, faster…" she whispered. Harry obliged, happy that she was finally getting some pleasure out of this.
He picked up his pace faster than he had dared go before. He sat up on his haunches and held onto Hermione's waist as he thrust in and out of her.
"Oh!" she had yelled, eyes wide with pleasure, her head thrown back at this new sensation.
"I know!" was Harry's reply. They had not tried this position yet, and it was a whole new angle that he was rubbing against.
Much too soon Harry felt his orgasm rising and he quickened his pace, Hermione's and his skin slapping loudly as they met.
"Harry, I'm cumming, oh merlin, merlin! This feels so good, ahhhh!" Hermione closed her eyes as she felt her walls tightened around Harry and a tingling sensation shoot from her nether regions up to her head and down to her toes.
She was barely aware that Harry was reaching his orgasm as well.
They breathed heavily as Harry held Hermione close kissing her lips and eyes and mouth gently.
"Did that feel better?" he asked wickedly. Hermione giggled and nodded.
"Yes, it felt much better." Harry grinned happily and pulled out her, wincing at the sensitivity.
They pulled on theirr night clothes and cuddled close.
Hermione placed her head on his chest while Harry wrapped his arms around her and brought her closer to him.
He fell into an easy sleep then while Hermione smiled to herself, trying to remember every moment of what had just happened at the same time noticing that Harry's breathing was much more even now.
She attempted to get comfortable in his arms and tried to fall asleep when he began to mumble.
Keeping still she listened to him mutter incoherently until her name became distinguishable.
He had muttered her name a lot more often these past few nights they had fallen asleep together. Hermione would then smile and then fall into an easy sleep. She attempted to do so again when she heard something that made her heart stop and flutter at the same time.
"Her-my-knee… I… love…" he breathed.
And suddenly, Hermione was not sleepy at all.