Only One

Prologue

"Love is the emblem of eternity: it confounds all notion of time: effaces all memory of a beginning, all fear of an end." ~Germaine De Stael

She had met him when she was eighteen. She had just finished her N.E.W.T.S and graduated from Hogwarts at the top of her class. Before picking a career, Hermione Granger had decided to go and explore how magic differed in America. She wanted a little freedom before deciding exactly what she wanted to do with her life and who she wanted to spend it with. A certain redhead was very keen on the latter. During her studies, she had met the Winchesters: John, Dean, and Sam. After proving herself to be the cliché "good witch", she spent a few months on the road with them. Sam and Hermione instantly bonded over their love of books and became good friends.

One day, after hunting down a shapeshifter, when Hermione was sitting on an old bench in front of a library, Sam kissed her. She had never been kissed like that before. His lips were soft and smooth pressing against hers with such delicacy. Viktor Krum had kissed her, but she was only fifteen at the time and when she kissed Ron, it was in the middle of a battle. She had never had anything as sweet and gentle as this. She smiled at him after, not feeling the need to speak. For the next month, the pair were inseparable. Instead of trading off the couch with him, she now snuggled up with him in his bed. She enjoyed the freedom she had with him, no one knew her famous best friend, no one here knew all that she had done for the Wizarding World in Britain, she was just Hermione.

One day, Sam got a letter. It was from Stanford. He couldn't open it so he gave it to her. With shaky hands, she tore the envelope and her brown eyes scanned the letter rapidly.

"Y-You're in. They've accepted you! And you've got a full scholarship!" she set the letter down and threw her arms around him. Sam lifted her off the ground and kissed her.

"Thank you, I couldn't have done it without your help," he smiled at her.

Hermione touched his face before kissing him again.

"I love you," she sighed.

Sam grinned, his signature dimples showing.

"I love you too."

Purely on instinct, Hermione pulled him down for another kiss. Somewhere in the tangle of limbs and tugging of clothes, they made love. It was clumsy, both of them never having any experience in the area, but it was wonderful. Sam sighed, resting his head on her stomach.

"What will I tell my dad and Dean?" his eyes looked up at her.

Hermione knew how desperately Sam wanted to be free of his hunter life and his demanding father.

"The truth. Sam, if you want this, you have to take it. This is once in a lifetime," she stroked his hair.

Sam nodded and pressed his lips on her tender skin. She smiled, running her fingers down his face.

The moment didn't last and the end came sooner than they both expected. Only days later, Hermione got an owl from Harry Potter, asking that she come back home. She was needed. Sam drove her to the airport and held her in his arms one last time. She rested her head in his shoulder, trying her best to hold in her tears. Sam pulled back and kissed her gently, she wrapped her arms around his neck, not wanting to let go. But when boarding for her flight was called, Sam broke the kiss.

Hermione grabbed her suitcase and gave him a final look. He smiled and she felt her heart sting. She never cried harder in her life than during that plane ride.

Four years passed and things moved on. Hermione worked for the Ministry and went back to Ron. Sam went to Stanford and met a pretty blonde named Jessica. Then, one rainy night, she got a phone call. It was Sam and his girlfriend had been murdered by the same monster that killed his mother. She wasn't able to see him, but after two hours (and a very expensive phone bill), Sam knew he had to keep her in his life and promised to write. And they did. He kept her updated on everything. Around May of the following year, she got a very different letter, Sam had died and Dean had given his soul to bring him back. She spent the whole year in and out of libraries, trying to find a way to break the deal. Nothing worked. In his grief, Sam stopped writing completely. Hermione decided that enough was enough and when Ron proposed for the fourth time, she finally said she was ready. They were engaged for a year.

Four Weeks Before the Wedding

"Oh, Harry, I don't understand why you don't tell me who's coming!" Hermione Granger says, exasperated.

Before Harry Potter could answer, the doorbell rings. She walks over to the doorway and blinks as Harry opens the door.

"Hey, Hermione."

"S-Sam? Dean?" she couldn't believe her eyes. They had grown up. Dean's shoulders were broader now and he held himself with a confidence he didn't have before. He flashes her a smile and she hugs him.

"Nice to see you again, Mione," he grins. She hasn't been called that in a long time. She pulls back and looks at Sam who is no longer the lanky boy she once knew, but a strong, powerful man. She gives him an unsure smile. He concedes and puts his arms around her. Hermione feels her heart stop as she inhales the spicy scent that only belongs to him. She lets go and Sam has half a mind to pull her back into him and kiss her, when he sees the glittering diamond on her finger. She's engaged. His heart sinks. He hadn't expected her to wait for him, but some part of him hoped she would have. He wanted to make up for his mistake, letting her go.

At dinner, Sam meets her future husband, Ron Weasley. He tries his best to be polite. Before the night's over, Sam makes a laundry list of reasons Ron shouldn't marry Hermione. The biggest one being the fact that Hermione has been casting looks at him all night. Ron notices and puts his arm around her, Sam has the feeling Ron doesn't know the truth about them. She turns her head and he gazes at her slender neck. He wonders if her skin is as flawless as it was all those years ago. He realizes he shouldn't be thinking about this at the dinner table. Or at all. She's engaged to be married. Dean pulls him out of his thoughts, he tells them about the Apocalypse and how they, specifically, would like Hermione's help. Dean looks kind of awkward, he had spoken to Harry about it and Harry wished to help, but they both felt that Ron may not be up to it. Hermione agrees to do whatever she can.

The next day, Sam is stuck in the library with her. It never bothered him before. But today, she's got on a skirt and keeps leaning over to grab certain books. She's a woman now and more beautiful than ever. Her sweater outlines her every curve and Sam feels a weight settling between his legs. She walks behind him, leaning over to show him something. Her brown curls brush his face and he inhales her perfume. He looks up at her and for a moment, he sees her lean down, but she catches herself. She clears her throat and moves back to her side of the table.

She continues to help as the boys stay in England for the next three weeks. Dean suggests Sam pull The Graduate and interrupt the wedding, but Sam shakes his head. He was no longer the Sam she fell in love with, he is a monster who started the Apocalypse and who Lucifer wants to wear to the prom. She's about to get married and have a very safe, normal life. He won't disturb that.

That's why he's so surprised when it happens. On the eve of her wedding, there is a knock at the door and she's standing there, waiting.

"Did you hate me that much?" she asks, voice trembling.

"What?" Sam's voice falters.

"When Dean died, when I couldn't help you save him—did you hate me that much that you cut me out of your life? I was waiting for you, Sam! To call, write, I wanted you! And now, now right before I'm getting married you show up, needing my help?" Hermione snaps.

Sam's first instinct is to get angry and he doesn't know why. He wants to tell her that he didn't ask her to wait, that it wasn't his idea to come here and that the past few weeks have been torture for him. But then he realizes, he's angry because he can't have her. So he doesn't, he knows if he yells at her—it'll send her away and right now, that's the last thing he wants.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was in such a bad place and when I got out of it, I...I started the Apocalypse, Hermione. I'm Lucifer's vessel. I can't be with you. I'm not taking you down with me," he sighs, feeling his throat close.

"You really are a bloody idiot," this is what she says before she kisses him. It's slow and hard, a meshing of mouths. Her lips are so smooth, but Sam pulls back, despite the urge to do the complete opposite.

"What about Ron?"

"Please, Sam," she's almost shaking.

"Hermione, I need to know," he isn't going to do this if she's going to get married tomorrow.

"I want you, Sam. I've always wanted you and only you," she sighs. Sam doesn't need anymore. He leans down and kisses her, pulling her inside, and shuts the door loudly behind them. Her hand moves down his back and tugs him closer. Sam doesn't remember her being this aggressive, but she's older now. Her tongue brushes over his lip before sliding in. She sighs and plays with his tongue.

"God, you taste so good," she moans. She can feel the heat washing over her body and sees the visible strain in his jeans.

Sam shoves her into the wall, he's not the awkward teenager anymore. Her hands grip his biceps, almost startled by how large they are. Everything about him is bigger, his shoulders are wider, his jaw is stronger, and suddenly her mind wanders and Sam feels her blush. His hips grind against her as his teeth nibble on her lip, making her gasp loudly. Before she can catch her breath, he hoists her up and sets her on top of his bed. Her legs are in a perfect V as she looks up at him, panting heavily. He can see the black underwear peaking out from beneath her skirt. He hovers over her and she bites down on her lip. He grins, running his lips down her shirt. His fingers take their time as he plucks each button, before discarding her shirt across the room. His hands immediately cup her breasts through her white cotton bra. Hermione's head falls back as his rough fingers trace circles on her stomach. He finds the clasp on her skirt and tosses it aside. Her brown hair is scattered on the sheets, her chest is rising and falling at a rapid pace, and she's only in her underwear. He brings her up and quickly removes her bra and panties. His fingers brush her breasts, she keens forward, gasping. He rolls the skin into harder peaks, watching her head fall into the pillow. Suddenly, he stops and she opens her eyes. Sam's pulling his shirt off and Hermione feels warm all over at the sight of him. Unable to control herself, she sits up and runs her hands down his neck, chest, and stomach brushing his toned muscles. Sam closes his eyes, sighing. Her lips brush over his tattoo, before tracing it with her tongue. She finds his belt and pulls down his pants. She rests on her knees and leans forward, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck. Her other hand slides down his hip, thumb brushing the sharp bone as she kisses him. Sam's hand gets lost in her hair, tugging it back and leaving hot kisses on her neck. His hand lets go as his mouth latches onto her breast. Her nails grip hard, leaving marks on his skin. One hand flies to his hair with the intention of keeping him there, but he pulls back. He pins her down on the mattress and sheds his boxers. His tongue slides in her mouth as his fingers trail down past her navel. Sam teases her, touching her ever so lightly.

"Please," she whimpers.

He grins and concedes, giving her exactly what she wants. Her hips move against the rhythm his fingers create, remembering just how long those fingers were. He tilts them up and her hands grip the sheets as she says a British curse word he doesn't know. His mouth works over the sensitive spot on her ear, before taking the lobe in between his teeth. Her breathing is more ragged and Sam feels his aching desire for her grow.

"You want me, babe?" he whispers against her skin.

"Y-Yes," she breathes.

Slowly, Sam removes his fingers and looks her over. Her brown eyes are hazed as they watch him. For a minute, he feels his face flush as he realizes he doesn't have any protection. Hermione realizes this and in her frustration, pulls him on top of her.

"I'm a bloody witch, now shag me," she demands. Sam laughs softly as he spreads her legs, moving them around his back. She moans as she feels his length sliding in, something she's wanted for a very long time. Sam's breath hitches as he goes all the way.

"Ohh, Hermione," he sighs, wanting to just stay there forever. She's so warm and wonderful. But she has other ideas.

"I told you to shag me, you gonna start?" she gives him a look.

Sam licks his lips and brings his hips back, sliding out, before ramming back inside her.

"Uhhh..." her hand finds his shoulder.

"That better, bossy?" he sighs, before setting the pace. He doesn't keep it slow for long, she's been very clear on how she wants it. The headboard sounds loudly against the wall as her noises are approaching operatic levels, he's actually very impressed. The faster he goes, the harder she clutches onto his back, but it's not a bad thing. She buries her face in his shoulder, bucking her hips against him rather violently.

"Ohhh, Sam! Sam! SAM!" Hermione cries out as her body trembles from head to toe. Sam groans, eyes jammed shut, tilting his head back as his body pulses. His body slumps forward onto hers and he rests his face in her neck. They lay in a panting heap for a while, neither having anything close to that in a long time.

"You okay?" she whispers, running her fingers through his sweaty hair.

"Me? I'm great," he sighs, kissing her neck. Sam gathers up his strength and pulls out of her, only to collapse back on the bed. Seconds later, Hermione kisses his cheek. He drapes an arm around her and pulls her into his chest. She smiles, listening to the drumming of his heart.

"I really do love you, Sam," she whispers.

Sam's throat tightens at her words. He kisses her hair and brushes his cheek against the top of her head, sighing heavily.

"God, I've missed you...I-"

"Shh, you don't have to say it," she can tell how overwhelmed he is," I know."

Because of that, Sam has to say it.

"I love you," he kisses her slowly.

Before sleep claims them, Sam chuckles,

"How much did that fancy wedding dress cost?"

"A lot," she laughs.

"Why don't you wear it tomorrow?" he peers down at her.

"I'm not marrying-oh," she pauses," are you sure?"

"I've spent enough time without you. Let's get married, tomorrow," Sam grins.

Hermione giggles, biting her lip.

"That's a horrible proposal, but...yeah, why not? It's only the Apocalypse."