Chapter Four
Harry and Hermione had to do decidedly less sneaking around than they originally anticipated when they began their arrangement. With Ron almost constantly AWOL, the two of them usually had the entire apartment to themselves.
And they definitely made use of it.
Hermione could barely look at the main couch or even the kitchen table without blushing furiously. The things the furniture had seen. She quickly learned that Harry quite liked the kitchen counters; they were just the right height for him.
Hermione admitted to liking his bed the best. Being wrapped up in his sheets made the experience all the better and she was sure that it had everything to do with the way he smelt. She was still yet to figure out how it was possible that he could smell like mown grass.
They literally couldn't seem to get enough of each other. They turned into sex-crazed teenagers, who went at it every chance they could. Hermione couldn't even remember actually getting fully dressed while in the apartment for a substantial amount of time.
It didn't help that Harry was always around, or that Hermione didn't start at St Andrew's until September. When she wasn't catching up on Muggle schoolwork, they had all the time to explore each other; to learn all they could about what the other liked and didn't like. She now knew how sensitive his calves were, and he now knew that kissing her collarbone would result in her making some truly embarrassing noises.
Hermione was even convinced that she now knew every blemish on his perfect body, from the freckle behind his left knee to the ruler impression just behind his right shoulder. She didn't like the story that came with that imperfection.
The first time they almost got caught was two weeks after they started whatever they started. It was mid-morning and they were lying in Harry's bed, heads sticking out from under the covers, after what Hermione would term a glorious night.
Harry was lying on his side, his eyes on her face, a goofy smile framing his lips. "We should check out that place Seamus was telling us about," he said, fighting a yawn.
Hermione had fingers on his chest, as she absently ran them over his tight skin. "For lunch?"
He nodded.
"Can it be a late one? I'm supposed to meet Ginny at the Burrow to help her pick out an outfit for her date with Neville."
Harry was pleasantly surprised by how little he felt at the sound of that piece of information. Admittedly, Hermione had felt a little nervous bringing up Ginny's budding relationship with their fellow Gryffindor, but the lack of reaction from Harry eased her worries.
And it wasn't as if she could be worried about it. They were just friends, doing friendly things to each other.
"Two o'clock then?" he asked.
"Sounds perfect," she breathed.
Harry stilled her hand on his chest with one of his own. "You're making me very happy," he said quietly, still marvelling at how easily her touch could affect him.
She kissed the back of his hand. "That was my intention."
He laughed lightly. "You really are trying to kill me, aren't you?"
"It's not my fault you can't keep up," she teased, biting her bottom lip.
"You know I can't stand it when you do that," he growled, immediately rolling onto her.
She laughed out loud, her hands running up his back.
"I'm the only one who gets to bite that lip," he said, nipping at the skin of her neck, his lips ghosting down to her collarbone.
Generally, things proceeded quite quickly with the two of them. Neither had much patience when the desire kicked in and this time was no different. Harry had just entered her when there was a knock on his bedroom door.
And then the door was opening.
Harry's Seeker reflexes were all that saved them from being found out. In one quick move, he had them both covered by his duvet, an unsatisfied groan escaping his lips. He wouldn't even be able to describe his annoyance if he were ever asked.
"Ron!" Harry hissed, sticking only his head out from under the duvet. If anything, Harry was surprised that they hadn't heard the sound of his Apparation. Maybe they were too lost in each other, because Harry doubted that Ron would have used the front door. He claimed it was too Muggle.
Hermione was trying her best not to giggle beneath Harry, and the vibrations of her body were making it difficult for him to concentrate on the redhead in the doorway.
"Oh, you're busy," Ron said, making no move to leave. "Oh, wow, you're actually really busy. Right now."
"Ron!"
"Sorry, it's just, well, I just got home, and I wanted to check in with you and Hermione, but she's not here."
"I'm right here," Hermione whispered for only Harry to hear, and then she shifted a bit, making him close his eyes.
"Do you know where she is?" Ron asked Harry.
"Hmm," he managed to get out. It was difficult to think when Hermione was now squeezing him that way. "She mentioned something about visiting Ginny. She might have already left."
"Does she know you brought a girl home?" Ron asked curiously. "Because you never do that. Must be serious."
Harry shot Ron a glare that had the redhead backing out so fast he almost tripped over himself.
Once the door was closed, Harry let out the breath he was holding and it came out as a pleasurable groan. He looked at Hermione, shifting the duvet cover out of the way so he could see her perfect face. "You are so mean," he concluded, unable to stop his smile.
She squeezed him once more. "Just how mean?"
"Not mean enough, apparently," he said as he covered her mouth with his hand and started to move.
They had to employ their usual distraction tactics to get Hermione back to her room and out of the apartment before Ron figured out that the girl in Harry's bed was actually their mutual best friend.
Hermione could only marvel at whatever the two boys talked about when she wasn't around. She wondered if Harry would actually tell her if she did ask. If he seemed reluctant, well, there were always ways to get him to talk. It amazed her that the ever-stoic Harry Potter was so ticklish. She loved the sound of his laughter.
Hermione cast a Silencing Charm on her room and proceeded to get ready for the day. Even though she complained about showering with Harry, she rather enjoyed it. Really, she enjoyed every moment with him.
Even when they weren't actually engaging in night time activities, she liked just being in his presence. Because they were friends first. It was the only way this whole thing was working; the only way it would continue to work. Right?
Hermione left her Charm up to hide the sound of her Apparation. She and Harry had spent quite some time researching wards for households and they had decided to employ both primary and secondary wards in the apartment.
The primary ones were standard wards, and allowed only certain people could Apparate into the apartment, and only into the living room area. The secondary wards prevented them Apparating into any other room.
Of course, though, Ron, Harry and Hermione could bypass the secondary wards, and were able to Apparate right into their own bedrooms. It would have been a wonderfully efficient system for Harry and Hermione if only Apparation didn't make such a distracting cracking sound.
Once Hermione was safely at the Burrow, she messaged Harry to let him know she was out of the apartment. There was only so much distracting one could do.
It had been a close call, really. Perhaps Harry was telling Ron to wait for confirmation before just opening the door after knocking. And they were probably discussing the fact that Harry actually brought a girl home... which he apparently didn't do.
Except with her.
But then again, she did live there. Only it was as if the two of them had made a mutual yet silent decision that their nights would be spent in his bedroom and days spent everywhere else.
Everywhere.
They'd even ventured to having sex outside of the apartment. It was exciting, sneaking into museum bathrooms and restaurant toilets and doing completely wanton things. Harry never would have guessed just how adventurous his Hermione was, but she was constantly surprising him. And, well, she was surprising herself as well.
When Hermione entered the Burrow, Ginny was in a right panic.
Mrs Weasley happily left Hermione to deal with her youngest child. There was only so much patience a woman had and there was very little left for the seventh Weasley at a time like this.
"Everything I own is awful!" Ginny exclaimed. "Honestly, Hermione, I may as well go naked."
Hermione couldn't stop her laugh. "I'm certain Neville wouldn't mind," she said, grinning at her best friend.
"This isn't funny," she huffed. "It's our first real date, and I want it to go well, you know? I do kind of want to impress him."
"Gin, I'm sure he'll be impressed whatever you decide to wear," she said calmly, moving towards the redhead's cupboard and running her eyes over the various items of clothing. "Hmm, what about this red dress?"
"Too long."
"The green one is quite nice."
"Too formal."
"This black one, the strapless one."
"Too sexy."
"Then the black one with the straps."
"Too old lady."
Hermione sighed. "Then you really may as well go naked."
"You're no help.
"Neither are you."
Ginny glared at the older witch for a moment. "Something's different about you."
Hermione frowned slightly. "What?"
"I don't know; just something."
Hermione immediately dropped her gaze. She could only wonder what Ginny would think if ever she found out about her and Harry. Not that Ginny had a claim on him or anything. It just would have been a bit awkward, wouldn't it?
But then, Hermione was quite sure that Harry and Ginny hadn't actually been intimate that way. Come to think of it, she didn't actually know his first was. She would have to ask him.
After about an hour of constant bickering, Hermione was able to get Ginny to agree to an outfit with matching shoes. It was quite a good one too, if Hermione did say so herself.
"I figured it out," Ginny said while they were repacking her cupboard with all the thrown out clothes.
"Figured what out?"
"Why there's something different about you," Ginny said, turning to look at Hermione. "You're happy."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I'm what?"
"It's not even something you're conscious of, is it? But you are totally, undeniably happy, Hermione." Ginny let out a breath. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"What are you so damn happy?"
Hermione had no idea how to answer the redhead's question.
Ginny let out an excited squeal. "Ooh, tell me, is there a guy involved?"
Hermione didn't even know what to say.
"Will we get to meet him tonight?"
She blinked. "Tonight?"
"Yes, tonight, at Dean and Seamus'. They're throwing a party. Don't tell me you're not going."
Now that she thought about it, she remembered Harry mentioning it, but they hadn't yet decided, had they? And since when did they start making decisions like that together anyway? It wasn't like they were a couple.
"I didn't forget," Hermione said, coming back to the conversation. "We'll be there."
It was Ginny's turn to raise her eyebrows questioningly "We?"
Hermione cleared her throat. "I mean, I'll be there, which kind of also means that Ron and Harry will be there as well, doesn't it?"
Ginny just nodded. "We plan to drop by after our dinner," she explained, clearly referring to herself and Neville.
Who would have guessed?
They finished up the cupboard in silence and then headed downstairs to find Molly in the kitchen, preparing something that smelt absolutely delicious.
"Hermione, dear, are you staying for lunch?" Molly asked.
Hermione checked her watch. "I'm actually meeting Harry at two, but I can stay for a little while."
"What's happening at two?" Ginny asked, more curious than anything.
"Lunch. He's keen on this place that Seamus told us about. Thought we'd try it out."
"Like a date?"
Hermione paled at that. What? "No," she said easily, hiding her slight panic quite well. "Just two friends having lunch, like we usually do. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"
"Of course not. I was just checking."
Hermione's curiosity was peaked. "Would it be so weird if it were a date?"
Ginny spent a moment thinking about it. "No, I don't think it would be so weird, but it's not a date, is it?"
"Definitely not."
"As long as everything is clear."
Hermione wasn't sure why she felt so uncomfortable all of a sudden. Hermione did not want to date, and this lunch with Harry was not a date. They had lunch all the time, and breakfast and dinner. They did practically everything together. It was just who they were. Even before the sex, they'd done things together. But why did it feel like it was so much more now?
Hermione arrived at the restaurant early and found them a nice table in the corner, where they could have a nice conversation and possibly do other things under the table. The first time Hermione had reached for him under the table, he'd all but jumped out of his chair. She still teased him about it.
When Harry arrived, he smiled the second he laid eyes on her. They were in Diagon Alley so he was quickly recognised but he paid the onlookers no attention as he made his way towards her.
If they were in the Muggle world, he probably would have kissed her but, instead, he just sat down and touched her thigh under the table. It was something she'd learned early on that he just liked to touch her, even if it was just holding her hand.
"Am I late?" he asked softly.
"Just on time."
"Have you looked at the menu?" he asked, picking his own one up. "Dean recommended the salmon, but I'm not that keen on fish today." He stopped talking when he realised that she was just staring at him. "What?"
"Is this a date?" she blurted out.
He blinked. "Is this a what?"
"A date, Harry? You and me, are we on a date right now?"
He swallowed. "No, this isn't a date, Hermione," he said carefully. If they were on a date, he would make sure that she knew it. "I thought you were clear on all of this. No dating. We're just doing all the things we used to do before you discovered the wonder that is Little Harry."
"Wonder, huh?"
He smirked at her. "I'm pretty sure that's what you called it the first time," he said.
"I'm pretty sure I didn't."
"You were thinking it."
Wow, she wanted to kiss him. "Well, as impressive as Little Harry is; it's really your hands that get me," she informed him. "And your mouth. I really love your mouth."
Harry took a steadying breath. "Why are we here again?"
Hermione smiled at him before she returned her attention to her menu, shaking her head at his antics. "I'm thinking I might go for the lamb," she said. "It sounds delicious."
Harry searched his own menu. "Wow, it does."
"You can't get the same as me."
"Why not?" he asked, knowing full well why he couldn't.
She glared at him. "We have a system, Harry." And then she bit her bottom lip, practically taunting him.
"If you don't stop that, I will kiss you right here in front of all of these people," he threatened.
"I'd like to see you try."
He leaned in and she had to put a hand out to stop him.
"What are you doing?"
He grinned. "I was just going to kiss you, that's all."
Her hand slipped down to his thigh. "Harry, you know you can't do that."
"I can't?" he asked, faking innocence. "But I thought we were on a date."
She laughed lightly, sliding her hand further up his thigh. "What ever am I going to do with you, Mr Potter?"
Harry stopped her hand. "Stop that, Miss Granger. We're in public."
"Well, you stop too," she said, pouting slightly. "And don't you dare order the lamb."
"Or what?" he countered.
"Then Granger is closed for business tonight," she said, giving him a pointed look.
"We're going to a party tonight, Hermione. There won't even be a chance to do the business anyway."
"You say that now, but I'm an incredibly talented witch, if you didn't already know."
He did know. "Little minx," he hissed.
She smiled knowingly. "And when exactly did I agree to go to this party?"
"Last night."
"I did?"
"You don't remember?"
She just stared at him blankly.
"Must be the sex-brain," he muttered.
Hermione would have caused him bodily harm but the waitress was just returning with Hermione's wine and Harry's beer.
"You ordered for me?" he asked, looking at her in some form of wonder.
"Of course."
It was going to take a miracle for him to get through the meal without kissing her. It was electric, almost unstoppable, his desire. It surprised him, really, that nothing seemed to be enough when it came to her. It had never been like this with anyone else, and he was determined to hold onto it for as long as possible.
"Are you ready to order?" the waitress asked, unable to take her eyes off Harry.
Hermione felt something stir in her that she didn't like. For a second, she thought, quite comically, that Harry was hers but she quickly shut that down. She'd made the rules. She wasn't allowed to feel anything possessive towards him, even if they were exclusive with their benefits.
"I'll have the lamb," Hermione told the waitress.
Harry winked at Hermione before he looked at the waitress. "I'll have what she's having."
Before Hermione could protest, Harry was speaking again.
"On second thought, I think I'll have the rump steak," he said. "Medium rare."
"Of course."
Once the waitress was out of earshot, Hermione rounded on Harry, giving him a glare that made him shiver in excitement. "Is this what it's always going to be like with you?"
"Hermione Granger, I promise you that, with me, your life will never be boring."
"What if I wanted a boring life?"
He looked at her, his green eyes meeting her brown ones and holding them captive. "Then I'm definitely not the guy for you."
Hermione took a deep breath. "And if I didn't want a boring life?"
"You'd marry me in a heartbeat."
"Are you asking?"
Harry gulped. "Would you say yes?"
Hermione's breath hitched. "I don't even want to date anyone, and we're talking about marriage."
"And kids," he added, without thinking.
Hermione was surprised at how calm she felt about this topic of conversation. They'd won a War and now they were afforded the chance to plan for their futures. "Do you want kids?" she asked.
Harry thought about it for a moment. "I think so, yeah. One day. I want a family of my own. Don't you?"
"One day, yes."
"How many?" he asked automatically.
"Probably two, maybe three," she admitted. "I suppose it's something every girl thinks about, I think. Even girls like me."
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, getting ready to shoot down any of her insecurities. He already had the words ready, intent on proving to her just how wonderful and amazing she was.
But he needn't have worried. "Well, I'm not exactly a girly girl, now am I?" she asked, laughing lightly. "I'm just saying that I reckon we all think about it at some point in our lives."
Harry nodded his understanding. "I bet you even have names picked out and everything, don't you?"
Hermione blushed. "Don't judge me."
"Tell me."
Her immediate response was enough to let him know that he was indeed right. She had names prepared. "Alexander, after my grandfather."
"I didn't know your grandfather's name is Alexander."
"Was," she informed him. "He passed away when I was sixteen."
He frowned. "Why didn't I know?"
"We had a lot to deal with at the time," she said, dropping her gaze.
Harry reached for her hand. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."
"It's not your fault."
"I know," he said sadly. "But I'm still sorry."
Hermione released his hand before anyone could see. This was her Harry, gentle and true. This was the boy she adored.
They were quiet until their food arrived, and then Hermione got very vocal with her opinions on the lamb. Harry loved listening to her talk. Even when he wasn't actually listening; he was still content to stare at her mouth. She had wonderful lips. And great teeth.
"Swap time," she said at some point, and he grinned at her.
"It's going to be difficult to find you a guy who's okay with doing this," he said, swapping their plates around so she had the rump steak and he had the lamb.
"If he loves me, he would do it," Hermione said without thinking.
"Does this mean that I love you?"
"You better love me."
He smirked. "I'll be loving you repeatedly later tonight."
She laughed lightly. "Finish eating that fast so we can get out of here. I don't think that I can wait until tonight."
Harry made a show of rushing his food, even stuffing his mouth to capacity. "Oh my god. This is amazing!" he mumbled. He chewed and swallowed. "I definitely should have ordered the lamb."
"I'm going to make you pay for that later."
Harry felt a shiver run up his spine, and he had to look away from her to calm himself down. He couldn't even enjoy his meal anymore now that the prospect of her was on the table. He almost wanted to Vanish his meal so that he could get her back to the apartment right that very second. He could be incredibly impatient when it came to the prospect of Hermione and her body.
Before she had even finished with the steak, Harry was asking for the bill. He paid it so quickly that Hermione had to down her wine in one large gulp before he was practically pulling her to her feet.
"Let's go home," he said, leading the way out of the restaurant.
"Harry, our food hasn't even digested."
"I don't care." He didn't. He really didn't. All he wanted was to get her in a bedroom - or against a wall, on a counter, in a cubicle - and make her his. That was all.
Harry led her into an empty alleyway, and walked until they were hidden by a large dustbin. He pulled her flush against him, his lips seeking hers. And then they were in her bedroom - she'd keyed him into the wards of her bedroom - and he was ripping at her clothes.
"Harry!"
"We'll fix it later," he murmured.
"What if Ron is home?"
"He's not."
"How do you know?"
He stopped suddenly. "You're really ruining the mood here, Hermione," he said dryly.
"Getting caught would also ruin the mood," she pointed out.
He sighed. "Fine. I'll go look."
While he was gone, Hermione surveyed her top. It really was ripped. That boy. Gingerly, she lifted it up and off her body before using her wand to repair it. She'd been doing that a lot lately. Harry had no patience for the boundaries of clothing sometimes.
When Harry returned, he found Hermione in her bra. "Nobody's home, and you look fucking sexy."
"It's the one you bought."
"With the matching knickers?"
"You'll have to see for yourself," she said, drawing him towards her by crooking her finger.
He didn't move, suddenly too in awe to get his feet moving again. She amazed him sometimes - no, all the time. "I'm so glad that I get to see this side of you," he said in a whisper, already breathless.
"Would you have ever believed that it existed without seeing it for yourself?"
He thought about it for a moment. "I don't know."
"Come here."
Harry didn't have to be told twice. They were alone and behind a Silencing Charm so Hermione was allowed to be as loud as she wanted. And Harry absolutely loved to hear her scream his name. It made him feel powerful, manly, wanted.
Sometimes, he even felt loved.
But Harry's favourite part had to be what happened after they were finished. He loved to watch her move to lie on her stomach and turn to look at him. She always looked at him. Without fail. She didn't always smile but there was something inexplicable in her eyes. The way she looked at him, he would never tire of it. He never wanted to give it up. If he had any say in it, this would never end.
Harry lay on his side, covered up to his chest by her sheets, and watched her watch him.
"You're beautiful," he said softly.
"You're pretty handsome yourself, Mr Potter."
He smiled at her. "Your hair looks terrible."
She laughed. "Those hands of yours. Untameable." She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying this time with him. As much as she loved being with him this way, she knew it wouldn't last forever. It was like borrowed time, as if he were just a loan, and the girl he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with was around the corner; just waiting for Hermione's time with him to be over.
Harry leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead.
She opened her eyes to look at him. She thought back to what Ginny had said and she couldn't deny it. She was happy.
Hermione reached up to kiss him. It was slow and lazy, conveying more meaning than was required for their benefits arrangement. She poured so much into the kiss that she wasn't even sure that she had anything left.
Harry wasn't sure how long they kissed for, but it was all they did, and it strangely meant more to him than what they had done before. He couldn't explain why it carried more meaning, but it just did.
At some point, Hermione pulled away for a final time, lips swollen and eyes glistening. "We should start getting ready," she said, her voice hoarse.
"For?"
"The party."
He groaned. "I want to stay here with you," he whined, pouting adorably and pulling her towards him.
"I already told Ginny we were going. We can't not show up."
"I like it when you use the word 'we,'" he said, blushing slightly.
Hermione pecked his lips one more time and then climbed out of bed, heading towards her bathroom in her birthday suit. Harry was convinced it was the greatest outfit that she owned.
He watched her hungrily. "Can I join you?"
"Do you even have to ask?"
He literally leapt out of bed, and followed after her, hearing her shriek in excitement.
Harry concluded that every part with her was his favourite part. He loved every part of being with her.
By seven o'clock, they were both almost ready to go. Harry found it surprising that Ron didn't come home to get ready. Even though their mutual friend spent most, if not all, of his time either at the joke shop or at his girlfriend's place; he still considered their apartment as home - well, second only to the Burrow. It just made sense for him to return to get dressed for going out.
Not that Harry was complaining.
"Have you seen my pink top?" Hermione asked, coming into Harry's bedroom dressed only in her jeans, boots and lacy bra.
Harry stared at her, his mouth going dry. "Which one?" he managed to ask.
"The ones with the buttons you like. Shaped like snitches."
"That is my favourite top," he agreed. "Your breasts look amazing in that top."
"Exactly why I want to wear it," she said, winking at him. "I might even bite my bottom lip."
"So you intend to torture me then?"
She nodded unapologetically. "Have you seen it?"
He shook his head. "Check the laundry hamper. I did a load Thursday morning."
She smiled at him. "I love the fact that you do laundry. It's incredibly sexy."
"A bloke needs clean clothes," he said nonchalantly. "Has to impress his lady."
Hermione blew him a kiss and then left the room. Harry stood still for a moment. His lady. Hermione.
He could live with that.
Harry finished getting ready, dousing himself in cologne and running a hand through his unruly hair. There was no point in trying to comb it; nothing would help. And it didn't even matter; Hermione's fingers would be in it soon enough. Well, he hoped that they would be.
He left his room. "Hermione? Are you ready to go?"
"Just a second."
He waited a full minute before he went to find her. She was in her bedroom, sitting at her dresser, and Harry was suddenly incredibly turned on.
Hermione looked at him in her mirror, reading his facial expression for exactly what it was. "No," she warned. "Harry, no."
"I didn't say anything."
"You don't have to. I can see it in your eyes. We're leaving now."
"But I want you," he breathed.
She laughed lightly as she finished up with her hair and stood up.
Harry's heart started to race. "You really are trying to kill me."
She moved towards him. "I promise, when we get home, we will have lots of dirty sex."
"Promise?"
She reached up to kiss him, and then she was moving away from him. She grabbed her bag, and made her way to the living room.
Harry followed after a moment, trying to hide his sulk.
"Smile, babe," she said, smiling her own reassuring smile at him. "We're about to go and see our friends. They'll know something's up with you."
He reached for her and drew her into a hug. She let him hold onto her for as long as he needed. A large part of her knew that this moment had nothing to do with the fact that she'd refused him sex. It was something else.
Maybe to do with unkept promises, or even things that he wouldn't ever have in his life. She even thought that it had something to do with the talk about her possible future children.
In this moment, she was his best friend.
He finally released her, first kissing her cheek. "We should go."
Hermione nodded once, taking hold of his hand. She squeezed it tightly with her own, trying to convey to him something she couldn't with words. Harry just smiled at her. She took a breath before she Apparated them both into Dean and Seamus' apartment and were almost immediately pulled apart by people's excitement at their arrival.
If Hermione had her way, she wouldn't have let go of his hand ever again.
