Beta'd by the most wonderful and talented AlexandraO.

The emerald flames dwindled around Hermione as she stepped fully into the living room. Anger coursed through her as she seethed over the moronic old prigs she was forced to deal with. There was no legitimate reason to deny the motion, none beyond the depth of their own pockets, that is.

She shrugged loose of her cloak and dropped it with her heavy bag at the base of the coat rack beside the large fireplace. Her parents had thought it odd to have it beside the fireplace before she had shown them floo powder for the first time. But even a lighthearted memory like that was insufficient to dispel her lousy mood.

Spinning on her heel, her mind came to a shuddering halt. All thought and feeling fleeing her now still form as her eyes tried to drink in the sight before her.

She could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times in the past that her brain had completely ceased its normally prodigious function. One of which had been the result of an unscheduled meeting with a basilisk's gaze by the Hogwarts library.

This time, however, the cause was much... nicer.

Sitting, well more draped than seated, on the couch opposite the fire, was Harry Potter.

Usually, the sight of her husband brought a smile to her face, but today he brought a lot more than that.

The onyx fountain pen she had bought him for his thirtieth birthday was clenched both in his left hand and between his sparkling white teeth. He was staring at several sheets of paper grasped in his right hand, the arm of which was perched absently on his knee.

But this wasn't the knobby-kneed Harry with the broken glasses from her youth.

Laid out over most of the couch, he was clad only in a pair of light-grey sweatpants, his favourite for lazy days in the house. A real shame, Hermione thought, as his legs were one of her favourite parts of Harry to stare at. His naked chest glistened in the afternoon sunlight pouring through the large window behind him as he absently went about his work.

The years of neglect he had suffered at the hands of his 'relatives' had instilled in Harry a desire to take care of his body since finishing at Hogwarts and take care of it he had. While his muscles were not overly large, they were firm and, well, Hermione had no better word for it than sexy. Seeing him reclined over her favourite couch in next to nothing had made her completely forget whatever it was that had ruined her afternoon.

And randier than hell.

She licked her lips absently as she devoured his body with her eyes. Fingers pulled at the far too tight collar of her work shirt as she sought to let out some of the heat now pooling in her body.

He hadn't even turned to look at the noise of the floo, so engrossed he must have been in his work, so there was nothing to discourage Hermione from her blatant ogling as she unconsciously stepped closer to the couch. She now noted that the soft grey fabric was pulled somewhat tighter around the waist and she realized that her husband was at the very least, nursing a semi.

A naughty smirk spread across her face as she pondered just what Harry had been thinking about to cause such a reaction, as her thighs ground together in response before her attention was pulled north of the border it had been fixed on. Harry had turned his head to catch her eye, and a broad smile broke over his chiselled features. Her knees became a little weak as she took the full force of what she had come to call his paparazzi face, though when he put it on for the cameras, the smile never reached so far into his eyes.

She couldn't help but bite her lower lip as she took in the way the corners of his eyes crinkled under the strain such a broad grin put on the skin. His eyes seemed to brighten despite the already bright summer sunlight behind him. And his near-naked body seemed to glimmer even more as he smiled at her, before turning his gaze back to the papers in his hand.

And that was it. Hermione was done for.

It took her precisely seven seconds to cover the distance from the fireplace to the couch, clothing flying everywhere as she moved and with a deep moan, her lips crashed heavily against his.

Harry's rough hands slid up her now naked back, leaving a path of tingling gooseflesh in its wake as her own hands worked to unravel the rather loose knot keeping his modesty in check.

As the knot came free, she wasted no time in divesting him of his only clothing and straddling his waist.

Exactly thirty seconds after that smile, she was wearing one of her own as she welcomed him deep within her and all thoughts of… whatever she had been doing, were gone. Only the two of them mattered now.

Sex with Harry was a drug, one which Hermione had embraced her addiction to with both hands. Hands that were currently skirting over his glistening flesh as she rocked back and forth.

Her lips finally came free of his when she flicked her head back with a guttural growl of pleasure. Only barely capturing the feral look in Harry's eyes for a moment before her own closed to further immerse herself in her sense of touch.

Harry's strong hands that had cupped her tight ass the moment she had slid him home were now moving northward. Their path was familiar and well travelled. Smoothing their way over the tiny dimples on her back, which always sent a shiver of delight up her spine, before tracing either side of the column before they spread wide over her shoulder blades for a moment. Then curling under her raised arms.

This time the gooseflesh preceded the motion as her body anticipated the movement. Her breasts were aching to be touched, and he did not deny them for long. Both fleshy mounds were soon encased in his strong grip, and though she still believed them too small, he once more proved that any more than a handful was a waste as he masterfully moved over the sensitive flesh.

Her erect nipples were gently twisted and tugged back and forth as his palms cupped and squeezed her breasts, sending shots of pleasure all through her tensed body.

Hermione felt like a wire being pulled taught, every muscle was tensing as she approached that familiar cliff. Harry had never once failed to bring her to orgasm, yet somehow, today he was playing her like a finely tuned instrument, and he the maestro.

"Harry…" The breathless gasp escaped her as his hands and cock worked her body in ways that were truly magical.

And with a turn of his right palm, and clapping thrust of his hips, her body snapped, and she fell all at once.

Her fingers gripped his collarbones tightly, nails digging into flesh as she silently panted her release. She could feel the muscles all over her body misbehaving as the waves of pleasure being cast from her core swept over them. With her eyes firmly shut she could not see it, but she knew Harry was looking at her like the most precious thing on the planet.

Many times he had described to her the feelings he experienced when he watched her face during orgasm. The first time she had turned bright red and refused to speak to him for hours from the embarrassment. Now she revelled in the knowledge that the faces she made were able to excite him to that degree.

For years she had battled with her self-image, but not once had Harry ever let her believe she was anything short of beautiful.

As her senses once more began to function in their proper manner, she noted his calloused, strong fingers delicately working over the skin of her cheeks, the thumb tracing her bottom lip, which was now trapped under her upper teeth. Something he had told her many times was grounds for a sound shagging if done in public.

She could not stop the giggle that thought sent through her and, upon opening her eyes, she saw the same mirth in Harry's.

But it did not take long for the twitching muscles of her lower region to change that mirth to desire once more.

A matching smirk drew across her own face as she raised her hips upward before slamming back down, drawing a loud groan from Harry as she started to work him in all the ways she knew he loved. Because, just like he had with her, she had never failed to bring him to climax during sex. At least, baring that one time Ron had walked in on them and received a sound hexing from them both for his trouble. And she was not about to fail today.

Shifting her grip to his upper arms, she used the firm muscles as an anchor as the rest of her body began to move with a primal need. Her eyes were locked on his own as he used his thumb to free her now bruised lip from her own firm grip on it.

A devilish smile took over her features as she gave the movements her all, and the room was soon filled with the lurid slapping sound that every room in the house had been treated to at least twice.

Hermione's body once more began to sing with delight as she built toward another orgasm, but it was the glint in Harry's eye that she was fixated on. She was not going to give herself over to it before he did this time.

Sex between them had always been intimate, but today, barely a foot separating their faces as they both stared deeply into the other as their bodies took their fill, Hermione didn't think she had ever been so horny in her life. And she had come only a few minutes before.

"Fuck…" the whimper left her lips, but she refused to close her eyes this time, "I love you."

Harry bit his own lower lip in response in a failed attempt to stifle the moan that statement drew forth.

"I love you, too. So much."

Their lower bodies were practically a blur as they slapped heavily together. Every nerve ending in their bodies was on fire, like a pleasurable cruciatus curse, and neither one wanted it to ever end.

But despite them both having a stubborn will of iron, the inevitable, by definition, could not be stopped.

"Her...mi...neeeeeeee" Harry growled as his hands moved to once more cup her arse, his fingers digging in as he used the grip to really slam into her body.

Hermione could not stop her own release as she felt the first fiery spurt of semen splash inside of her, wailing her own release to the heavens as all sense of the world outside of herself and Harry was washed away on the searing pleasure she gave herself over to.

Their lurid moaning and panting merging into a song of joy as they continued to thrust and grind as they rode out what was undoubtedly one of the greatest mutual orgasms they had ever shared. And they'd shared a great many over the past thirteen years of marriage.

Hermione became limp as she let herself fall, knowing Harry was there to catch her. Never once since the war had he failed her, and he proved himself once more as his strong arms encircled her and pulled her loose form hard against his chest, his face nuzzling her cheek as he became lost in her wild hair, now free of the professional bob she had constrained it to that morning. If there was one inescapable fact of her hair, it was that it would not be contained during sex. No matter the method used.

As she lay panting in Harry's arms, Hermione glanced down and noted the discarded papers Harry had been working on when she'd arrived. But something was off about them. As her prodigious mind began working normally once more, she noted that they were all blank.

Reaching down, she flipped a few over and saw they were blank on both sides.

Glancing up at Harry, she noted his photogenic smile had been replaced by his shit-eating grin. Which if she was honest with herself, was her favourite look on him, after his o-face.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and she clenched her muscles about his still buried member.

"What did you do?" She asked accusingly, barely a whisper.

Harry stroked his fingers over her pale, sweaty cheek, his smile not changing one bit.

"Distracting you from those morons."

And he leaned forward and captured her lips once more.

And she realized he was right. She had completely forgotten her frustration over dealing with those idiots in the Wizengamot. But Harry didn't need to know that, just yet anyway.

"Well then, get on with it, my love."

Harry's smirk widened, and she felt him pulse back to life within her.

"As you wish."