An hour later, they escaped her family and the tales of the shenanigans Mildred and Matilda had once gotten into as children. While Harry laughed the entire time, his hand was settled on her thigh below the dining room table, his hand inching up her inner thigh. She could only nibble her lip to keep from exposing the two of them.
She had already ruined her knickers from the heated snogging session turned to more on the couch, but anticipation thrummed in her stomach as she pondered what could possibly come next.
"They'll be turning in soon," Hermione said quietly as she shut the door behind her. "I don't think -"
He grinned, placing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. "I won't touch you until they're fast asleep," Harry reassured her, reaching to the collar of his shirt as he tugged it over his head.
She knew he was fit of course, but given the sudden change in their relationship, her mouth dried as she took him in. Truthfully, it wasn't fair for one man to look like he had been chiselled from marble with the way his abdomen was defined, and the way there was a V leading into his bottoms. Hermione noticed he cast silencing and locking charms, the incantation so soft a mouse couldn't have heard. "Harry," Hermione began, her voice breathier than she ever remembered with Oliver.
"Hermione." He said with a smirk, laying his wand on the bedside table. "You're tense."
She laughed, "I'm still trying to figure out what to say to you. When I invited you home for Christmas I didn't imagine this would happen. Not that I'm complaining."
Harry stepped toward her, hands settling on her shoulders. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her earlobe - smirking when she shivered - and whispered, "I'm going to run a bath for you."
She blinked. "What?" Hermione asked dumbly, her brows knitting together. She'd been so certain that he was going to toss her on the bed and...
He chuckled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "It's a shame I rarely see you confused, you're adorable when you are."
"I - what?"
"I'm still Harry, and you're still Hermione."
"Yes, I would assume basic biology hasn't changed." Hermione retorted, rolling her eyes. Down the corridor, the door to her parents' bedroom swung shut.
Harry smirked. "Oh, I'm positive our basic biology hasn't changed given with what happened on the couch."
Her cheeks heated up as she stared at her toes. "Sod off." There was no malice in the words, only a playful tone as she swatted at him. "I'm not saying anything I want to say."
"That sounds like a personal problem," Harry replied cheekily. "About that bath, I just believe you deserve it. When is the last time you let someone take care of you?"
Hermione fell silent. Looking over her shoulder once more to be absolutely positive it was locked, she turned back to him. "You can run a bath for me another time, Harry. That's not what I want to do at the moment." She slid her arms around his neck, moulding herself to the curve of him. "I'd like to ask you what the hell is going on."
"We're enjoying each other." He murmured, running his knuckle under her eye. "I am particularly enjoying you quite a bit."
She swallowed, drumming up the courage to ask a question she could possibly not like the answer to. "You must know that I have questions."
He laughed, "I know that. I'll tell you anything you want." Harry pulled her to the bed, sitting against the headboard, and patting the empty space next to him. "Sit with me?"
As if she would have said no. Hermione crawled in beside him, clasping her hands in her lap. "Is this just a sudden want for a warm body at Christmas?" Hermione asked, and he shouldn't have been surprised at how forward she was."
"It's not." He snaked an arm around her, fingers fiddling with her sleeve and trailing along the bare patch of skin. "I wanted you, want you still."
She sucked in a breath. "Not to dig for compliments, but why? We've never - you've never seen me like this, Harry."
It would have been lovely if he, perhaps, said how he'd always seen her as desirable, but they were too ill-fitted at the time. Only it would have been a ridiculous notion, and she didn't appreciate liars. "I haven't always seen you romantically, no." Harry agreed. "I have to say the last fifteen years of my life have been a bloody waste of time in that regard. You're lovely."
Her head snapped up. "Pardon?"
He was grinning ear to ear."So fucking brilliant, and stunning, it's a wonder Wood ever let you go. Good riddance in my opinion or else you would have never brought me home with you."
Hermione cocked her head to the side, arching one brow. "I don't think I'm following." No, at the moment she was still thinking of how he'd called her lovely.
"Hermione Granger, I think I fancy you." Harry murmured, and there was a poignant silence that hung in the air.
Once again, she'd forgotten to reply. "Harry?" She whispered, unconsciously leaning forward. "Isn't that something you should know? You don't want to lead a girl on." Hermione smirked, cupping his face.
The second time he kissed her, Harry didn't start slow. It was a moment before she was below him, wriggling as she hooked a leg around his hip, and she let him hold her hands over her head. He bit her bottom lip, pulling it slightly just to see her eyes widen and then flutter shut.
His fingers hovered above the top button on her top. "May I?" Harry asked, and at the nod, he didn't bother to undo each baby blue button. Tearing it right off her instead, she squealed. "I'll buy you a new one." He deadpanned, kissing down her neck as she tilted her head back.
As his fingers rubbed her clit through two layers, she moaned his name, pulling on his hair as his mouth dropped to her breasts.
Harry took his time, and she wasn't sure if he was only teasing her as his tongue traced her scar from Dolohov. "Harry!" Hermione moaned, arching her back and his palm slid to the middle. "What are you doing?"
"We shouldn't have been there, remember? It was my idea to go, and you were nearly killed. So many of you were." He murmured, pressing his lips to each inch of it. "You shouldn't have so many scars because of me," Harry whispered, looking up to her as his tongue slowly lapped against the scar.
She whimpered, but she didn't voice how it was never his fault. She would have done it all over again, but there was a tenderness in his movements that made her shudder. "I don't blame you," Hermione whispered.
He nodded, kissing down her stomach and pressed his lips to each mark which marred her flesh. She knew that some were from running through a forest, a branch piercing the soft skin of her belly and leaving a miniscule mark. "I know that." Harry groaned, cupping her through her bottoms. "You wouldn't have left even if I begged you." He kissed down her arm carefully, and her eyes welled with tears.
"You didn't do this to me." She gasped. There was something about watching him, about keeping her eyes open to watch him trace the letters with his tongue. "I would do everything the same."
"So fucking loyal, and it nearly cost you your life." He growled, rising to kiss her roughly. His tongue traced the seam of her lips before sliding against her own.
Hermione gripped his forearms as he hovered over her. "I would have never left you."
There was something to be said there, but she didn't blame Ron any longer. She doubted Harry did either. His eyes flickered, and he slid his hand into her knickers, groaning as his fingers slid against her slick folds. "I wanted you in the tent. I wanted you then." He gasped.
Hermione was lost after that.
When she woke it was to the sound of running water from across the corridor, and to Harry who was shaking her. "Wake up, we have a long day." He grinned. Far from the intensity he'd shared with her last night, her best friend looked boyish.
She replied sleepily, "What?"
He laughed, and the smell of bacon wafted up the stairs. "I've run a bath."
Hermione blinked. "You were really serious about that bath, weren't you? Is this a ploy to see me naked and wet?"
He snorted. "No, I'm able to accomplish that by myself thank you. Have you never been pampered?"
Well...no. Her blush crept down her neck when he said it like that. "I suppose not, no. Why do we have a long day?" She asked, partly desperate to get away from that conversation, and partly because she had no clue what he was on about.
"It's a surprise. I'll meet you downstairs." Harry told her, a gleeful glint in his eyes before he left her.
He'd planned a bloody date, and judging by the grin on his face, it would be unlike any other she'd had before. Harry asked if she would drive the rental they'd brought so they be tempted to have another snowball fight in the middle of the neighbourhood. A wise decision given it might escalate into something needing a disillusionment charm this time. Now that was a thought that she shouldn't have lingered on.
Still, her cheeks heated up with the promise of what was to come after the few heated moments that spun out control. She ought to have slowed them down; after all, it was far too soon for them sleep together - which they hadn't, due to Harry catching her lingering hand - but wasn't it too soon for them to do everything else.
It should have been a sign to show her how easy it was for their relationship to shift. Rather she gripped the steering wheel tightly as she wondered what would change when they returned home. His words of fancying her echoed between her ears as she attempted to be rational. Harry would never say that if this was just -
"I can hear your thoughts from here," Harry said, and she glanced over to see a smile curving his lips. "You've missed our turn twice, you know. I've been calling out to you."
Hermione flushed, finally noticing how harshly she'd been gripping the wheel when she let go. "You can hear them? What are they saying?"
He snorted. "You're worried about what this means for our friendship, but I don't have to use legilimency to know that, Mione."
The nickname she'd previously loathed sounded better when it came from him. "Did you expect any different? This is all so sudden, and -"
Harry shook his head. "I'm happy to take the time to prove it to you." He said smoothly, a smile playing at the edge of his lips. "This isn't what I expected either, but I would be a fool to not try and woo you."
"Woo?" She giggled, coming to a stop in traffic. "Full disclosure: it seems I'm not trusting when it comes to romance from the start."
He nodded, leaning his arm on the centre console. "I like challenges."
She glared at him with no real malice. "I am not a prize to be won and shown off, Harry Potter."
"What about a woman whom I want to cherish?"
Her mouth dried. Well, from their playful banter, she certainly hadn't expected that. Hermione cleared her throat, replying, "That seems feasible." Though her voice was quiet, borderline squeaking, Harry didn't laugh.
"If I weren't so sure you'd crash into someone, I'd kiss you right now." Harry drawled, leaning back in the seat.
Her response surprised them both, but her the most. "I could pull over," Hermione replied without a moment of hesitation.
So she did.
She had been ice skating before, but only the once, and it was enough for her to begrudgingly admit she was no good at it. Much like flying - only at least her feet could stay on the ground - Hermione didn't have the gene that enabled her to pick up on just anything.
Unlike Harry, who had laced his skates and slid onto the ice with some degree of finesse all in the same thirty seconds. Eager to tease her, he took two laps around the rink while she made her own measly trek along the wall. Hermione gripped it tightly, catching herself when her legs slid out from under her. If there was ever a time for him to regret bringing her there, it would have been then.
Harry stopped beside her, skating backwards. "Hermione, come on." He held out his hand, fingers brushing against her sleeve. "I won't let you fall." He paused, then continuing with, "well, if you do fall, I'll be there to break your fall."
"That's reassuring." She deadpanned, still not pulling her hand from the wall.
"Isn't it?"
She shook her head, "Not particularly, no." Her eyes wandered toward the couples zipping around the ice, their laughter filling the space. "I can't do that," Hermione muttered, motioning her hand toward them.
He rolled his eyes. "I'm not asking you to. Don't worry about what everyone else can do; they're no better than you."
"I wasn't saying -"
"You were. Oliver has given you insecurities and you don't realize it at all. Listen," he murmured, sliding close to her and gripping her hips through her jumper. "You can't skate, don't give me that look. It's not an insult. Maybe you can't skate, but you can cast spells that no one else can, you can solve problems that no one else can, and you're the smartest woman I know."
"There is so much more than books and cleverness, Harry."
"You said that to me once, you know." He smiled.
It was so long ago, and she shouldn't have been so surprised he remembered it when he was her best friend, but, "You remember that?"
"I remember everything." Harry murmured. He reached out to twist a piece of her hair around his finger, something he'd done the night before. "I might not act like it, but I'm certain I've never forgotten anything about you."
Hermione's eyes widened as she tilted her head up, torn between hoping he would kiss her, or that he would elaborate on what he'd said. "There's not much to remember," she settled with. "I'm rather boring."
"You're not." He argued. "And I don't think you really believe that either," Harry said, cupping her face. As she leaned into his touch, he continued, "I'm sorry I didn't notice how much Oliver affected you."
"I don't want to talk about him. Oliver doesn't matter." Hermione bit out, not wanting to waste a single moment on a man who had left her, and the more Harry spoke, the more she began to believe it was never her fault at all. "I never knew you were so sweet."
He snorted. "Thanks."
"I meant -"
Harry leaned forward, thumbs brushing her cheekbones as he softly pressed his lips to hers. "I know what you meant." He murmured against her lips.
He'd led her around the rink, her hand tucked into his as he chuckled each time she fell. Hermione wasn't sure it had ever felt quite like this. Of course, she'd felt butterflies before, the warming of her cheeks, and the way her stomach tied itself into knots each time he looked to her.
Dinner with her family was never a quiet event, and the old ladies at the table were eager for details of her day. "Oh, come on, Hermione." Matilda pleaded. "We haven't had a bloke since our husbands kicked the bucket."
Water shot out of Harry's nose as he laughed. "Merlin." He coughed as Hermione hit him on the back.
Having already heard this before, Hermione's mask of indifference didn't slip. "It's none of your business," Hermione muttered, pushing her food around her plate with her fork. "We had a nice day."
Mildred arched an eyebrow. "I'll bet you did." She leered, pointing a finger when her great-niece blushed. "Hermione Jean, did you do something indecent in public today?"
Her father coughed. "Mildred, is this really something to discuss over the dinner table?"
Mildred's eyes lit up. Cackling, she managed, "I once put my hip out of place from being bent over the table too quickly."
"Oh, gods," Hermione groaned, covering her eyes. "Do you have to make everything so bloody awkward?"
"Of course not, dear," Matilda chimed in, winking at her, "but life would be so bland if we didn't, don't you think?"
Hermione tried to put an end to the nonsense. "Really, we just went ice skating, and took a walk along the river."
"No snogging?" Matilda's nose crinkled.
"It's none of your business and -" Hermione tried again, but she was cut off midsentence.
"There's a lovely spot by the river where you can sneak under the bridge." Mildred mused, tapping her chin as if she were recalling a memory from long ago. That was something no one at the dinner table needed to hear. "Hidden from view, and a good spot on the wall to -"
"Enough!" Jean snapped, standing from the table. "I'm going to the kitchen to get the last bottle of wine, and when I sit back down, I'd like to hear about how my daughter's life is going. Beyond snogging, and ripping her knickers off under a bridge."
Hermione buried her face in her hands. "I didn't rip her knickers off at all." Harry offered weakly. There was a sigh of relief from her father.
"So," Matilda and Mildred chorused, "there was snogging?"
As it was becoming a habit, and partially because of her own hopes, Hermione cast a silencing charm as they entered her bedroom. "I'm sorry if my family has been overly exhausting this holiday." She said, setting her wand on the table as she shimmied out of her jeans. Laying across the mattress already were her pyjama bottoms, and she stepped into them. "Could you unclasp my bra for me?"
Harry nodded, stepping behind her as she lifted her shirt over her head. "They're a delight, much better than the Dursleys ever were, and I might like them more than the Weasleys." His fingers skimmed her sides, the hair on her arms raised as she shivered. "This holiday has been more than I expected."
Hermione gasped when she felt his lips pressed against the top of her spine, slowly descending. "Harry.." She trailed off as he tugged at the strap across her back. "Are you - oh my gods, are you serious?" Hermione burst into laughter as he unsnapped her bra with his teeth.
"It's one of my many skills." He chuckled as he stood, massaging where her bra had been. "Can I kiss you?"
Her heart clenched. "You don't have to ask," Hermione replied, letting him turn her to face him. "But I think it would be more comfortable in bed." She grinned as she crawled into the bed, hiding beneath the blankets.
There was a thud as he kicked his trainers off, and slid in beside her. "You're cheeky, you know that?" He rasped, sliding one arm under her and laying her across his chest. "I'm not complaining if you'd like to leave your top off, but you should probably cast a locking cham so we aren't interrupted."
She smiled coyly. "Just what would they be interupting?"
Harry's eyes darkened, and he lightly pinched her nipple. "Fuck, you sound so pretty." He groaned as she whimpered. "Cast the fucking spell."
Hermione crawled off of him, snatching her wand from the table. Mid motion, he slapped her arse, dragging a quiet moan from her. "Fuck." She uttered, rushing the spell before his hand came down once more.
"Do you like this?" He asked, his voice ragged as he kneaded the soft flesh of her arse. "Tell me, Hermione."
She nodded, breathless and clutching the sheets. "No one else has ever done that." Hermione murmured, wondering if he would do it again. She certainly wouldn't complain.
There was a loud slap! as his hand came down again. "Come here." He murmured. Harry slid an arm around her back as she straddled his waist.
Sliding her hands up his chest, she clung to him as he kissed her slowly, just as thoroughly as he had the first time on the couch in her parents living room. Hermione bit his lip, drawing it between her teeth as she moved her hips against him. At his low groan, Hermione rolled her hips experimentally. Her eyes widened as she felt his hard length against her inner thigh. "Harry," she moaned, grabbing his hand and putting it on her breast. "I'm not sure if you're waiting for an invitation, but I would really like for you to touch me now."
"Yes, ma'am." He chuckled, tangling his fingers in her curls and pulling her down.
She writhed against him as his lips drop, first pressing to the corner of her mouth, then sliding down her neck, and across her collarbone. Hermione moaned, and then Harry flipped her onto her back. She'd noticed it the first time - that he could be rough. Not that she minded as he captured both her wrists with one hand and pinned them above her head.
"You're fucking gorgeous." He said, his lips skimming her collarbone once more before he traced lazy lines across her breasts with his tongue. Harry bit her nipple lightly, testing if she would like the feel of his teeth nipping her as his hand slid between her legs. "Spread your legs for me." He groaned as she conceded, her hips bucking into his hand.
"Harry." She moaned, her hair falling across the pillows. "Fuck, please," her eyes fluttered shut.
"Please what, love?" He murmured before sucking her nipple.
She moaned his name, digging her fingers into her hair. "Touch me, please."
"I am touching you." Harry replied, rubbing circles over her clit through her knickers, but below her bottoms. "You'll have to be more specific, sweetheart."
Hermione glared at him. "You know what I want," her head fell back as he pinched her clit, eliciting a shriek from her. "I think you just want to hear me beg."
"A wonderful idea, but I won't make you beg. Perhaps another time?" Harry smirked, lowering his mouth to her breast again. "I'm no mind reader - well, technically,"
She swiftly cut him off. "I want you to go down on me." Hermione blurted, colour tinging her cheeks. "Unless you - oh, nevermind!"
He'd already hooked his fingers into her waistband and begun to tug them down her legs. Tossing them into the floor, she peeked at him as he did the same with her knickers. "Don't be embarrassed."
"Easy for you to say." She rolled her eyes.
Harry said nothing as his tongue slid against her clit, his fingers parting her folds as two thrust into her. She'd thought he would tease her with slow movements, barely there touches, and the low sound of his voice. Only he didn't, and she was left panting against the pillows as he pulled her to the edge of the bed.
Now flat against the bed, and her arse teetering on the edge as he slid her legs over her shoulders, she could only be thankful that he reminded her to cast the locking charm. Her body trembled as she covered her mouth in an attempt to muffle the loud moans falling from her lips. "Harry, Harry -" she whimpered as his fingers curled inside of her.
Though she thought he was going to tease her, drag it out until he wrung an orgasm from her, he didn't. "I'm going to come." She hissed, propping herself up on her elbows to find him still watching her. It was the last flick of his tongue that pushed her over the edge, and insurmountable high rushing over her. "Merlin."
He chuckled, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he crawled back onto the bed. Harry laid against the pillows, opening an arm for her to lay against him.
"I usually don't put out on the first date." She muttered.
Harry shook with laughter beside her. "What about the second date?" He grinned, pressing a chaste kiss to her temple.
Her mouth fell open. "We've just had our first thought."
He shrugged. "I don't have any pressing plans tomorrow, do you?"
"Is this really happening?"
"..Did you mean to say that out loud?" He sniggered when she walloped him.
She thought when he said a second date that they might see a film, perhaps eat an early dinner before returning home. However, looking back at it as she stood in a thrift store, she probably should have realized that Harry Potter was going to go all out.
He woke her at seven in the morning, telling her to wear whatever she wanted. It wouldn't matter, he said, as she wouldn't be wearing it for long anyway. Whereas she'd thought he was just acting like a cocky shite with one foot in the door, she was totally wrong. When he'd told her to park outside of the rundown shop, she was unsure what she was expecting. It looked like a front for an illegal business running out of the back.
Something he snorted at and plucked the keys from her gloved hand before she could yank the gear shift in reverse. Once inside, he told her what they were doing. "We have twenty minutes, and twenty pounds to buy each other an outfit to wear for the day." Harry began, curling the bill in her hand.
She blinked. "Is that what you meant when you said I wouldn't be wearing my clothes for long?" She said it a bit too loud, and the clerk behind the counter laughed.
"Are you disappointed I didn't take you to a secluded stretch of road and shag you, Hermione?" Harry whispered in her ear and nibbling her earlobe. "Alright, go." He rushed past her in the opposite direction toward the women's section.
Slightly baffled, she waved to the clerk. "Excuse me, could you tell me where I can find the men's section?"
They both looked positively ridiculous.
Harry wore the bright yellow jumper with a grin on his face, and it was paired with purple trainers. She giggled as he spun for her, posing dramatically as a young couple - a better-dressed couple - passed them. "You look mad," Hermione said.
"How rude. I happen to think you look beautiful."
Glancing down at herself, she replied, "I think you're biased." He'd bought her a dress, but it was a bright pink monstrosity and there were flowers over the front. Paired with a thin belt around her waist that was still too large, and an uncomfortable pair of heels, she looked like a colour wheel that had thrown up. "Where are we going?"
"Where would you like to go?"
Hermione stared at her shoes. "There's a nice museum, but I don't think you would find it interesting."
He took her hand, motioning for her to climb in the car. "You went ice skating for me, you can choose this one." The corner of his lip quirked up as she held her dress up as she climbed into the car. "You're right, we do look barking mad."
Even so, it turned out to be her favourite date she'd even been on, and the lines of their friendship were quickly blurring.
