Here we are at Chapter 10! I felt the need to thank everyone for reading my humble tale. It's truly taken on a life of its own. I'm enjoying creating the story as much as you're enjoying the results… kind of like a chocolate chip cheesecake that turns out just right. I'm loving your pen names, and thanks again for your reviews: Pawsrule, Onyx Obsidian, Zetasigma, Cateagle, Northwind Tweak, Black Banshee, SereniteRose, General Mac, Marla1, red demon161, Kimbclar, NYFanFic, Gwen Polk, MindForgedMan, genndec, Lonelywicked, Havanaclub42, AzureAlquimista, hpf2114, mom2divas, belladonablush, Sobela, AmythystRoseMalfoy.
Honorable mention: my very own editor, alix33
My favorite pen name: Nerdmom1701
Now, on with the story.
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After visiting with Molly, Hermione walked with Ginny through Diagon Alley, back to The Daily Prophet. Hermione waved to the clerk through the front window of Flourish and Blotts when she walked by.
"I have to admit, I'm a little surprised that you're talking to me, won't Harry be angry?" Ginny asked.
Hermione lifted an eyebrow when she spoke. "Harry knows my mind. He also knows what it's like to be without family, and that you've been alienated from yours. He's angry with Ron… enraged, actually."
"Do you think Ron was really involved in an international smuggling ring?" Ginny asked.
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. I wasn't there when his arrest warrant was prepared, but they had to have some evidence against him to go ahead with it."
Inside The Daily Prophet building, Hermione braced herself for the inevitable. She saw people looking and pointing at her, and a few more scrambled for quills and parchment.
"Sorry," Ginny mumbled, and they walked into the Quidditch offices of the paper.
A few minutes later, a reporter knocked on Ginny's office door and asked to speak with Hermione.
"If you're here to ask me about Ron Weasley, the answer is no comment," Hermione replied and twirled her wand. Ginny chuckled and straightened some papers on her desk.
The reporter cleared his throat. "It's about the investigations."
"The DMLE hasn't been cleared to discuss the matter with the general public. There are aspects of the case that remain classified, and arrests are still pending," Hermione stated.
"I understand, thank you," the reporter said and left the office.
Hermione looked through her handbag for a piece of chocolate. How had she let her stash run low?
"Would you like to come to supper tonight at my place?" Ginny asked, sounding unsure of herself.
Hermione paused digging through her handbag and smiled. "I'd like that."
"Seven, come with an appetite," Ginny said.
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Hermione left Ginny to her work and returned to Diagon Alley, where she replenished the chocolate stash for her handbag and stopped for tea at the Three Sisters Tea Shop. She sipped tea and doodled on the week's arithmancy puzzle from the paper when a voice was heard from beside her. She looked up and saw Lavender Brown and smiled a greeting.
"Would you like to sit down?" Hermione asked.
"Thanks," Lavender replied and sat down.
Of all the people from Hogwarts, Lavender had changed the most since leaving the school. Since being attacked that horrible day at Hogwarts by Fenrir Greyback, she thought her life would be over. When she woke and recovered from the attack, therapy and the support of friends and family got her through the hardest times. It also helped that she didn't turn into a werewolf every month. She would forever be self-conscious from the scar on her neck, so she wore scarves and high-necked shirts. She credited Hermione with saving her life, and if she ever managed to have a baby girl of her own, she would name her Hermione.
Hermione signaled the server for another cup.
"I saw you leaving the Prophet," Lavender said and thanked the server.
"I walked Ginny back to her office," Hermione said.
"Harry doesn't mind?" Lavender asked, sensing a potential story.
Hermione waved the question away. "When it comes to Ginny, he's moved on. Aside from that there's a baby involved, and he could never hold anything against a baby."
Hermione took a sip of tea. "I'll tell you what I told Ginny. I'm my own person, and Harry knows my mind. The Weasleys are going through a hard time right now. They need all the support they can get."
"So you're… you know… with Harry now?" Lavender asked.
Hermione nodded. "Yes, and I'm very happy."
"Is it odd?" Lavender asked.
Hermione chuckled. "You're not the first person to ask me that. It's not odd, not to us. It feels right. No one knows me better than him. Being with him is everything I've been wanting in a relationship."
"So, it's love?" Lavender asked.
Hermione nodded. "Yes, and you can quote me on that."
Lavender leaned forward and lowered her voice. "And the sex?"
Hermione leaned forward to answer. "If there was an Olympics for shagging, he'd win the gold every time. He's like a machine."
Lavender sat back up and looked at her in shock.
Hermione wiggled her eyebrows. "But don't quote me on that, it would embarrass the shite out of him."
Lavender shook her head, still shocked (or awed) by Hermione's comment. "Don't worry, I write for Witch Weekly, not PlayWitch… although you might give it a try."
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Hermione prepared dinner for Harry when he returned home. He saw the single place at the table and asked where hers was.
"Going to your parent's place?" he asked.
"Ginny asked me to supper, and mum invited us over this weekend," she said.
"Oh," he said and sat down.
"Are you sure that you're all right with me visiting with Ginny?" she asked.
He was going to have to get used to talking about everything, because that's how Hermione dealt with problems. That's how she dealt with life; which made her so good at her job, which had saved his life over the years, which also led to their amazing sex life. Bring issues into the open, analyze them, find a solution, and implement said solution. Problem solved, move on.
"No, it's just…" he said and took a bite of chicken. "Hey, this is good."
"You were saying?"
"You're a better person than me," he said.
"No, I'm not. You're the hero of the wizarding world, not me," she teased, affectionately. "The Weasleys are going through a hard time right now, and they need all the support they can get."
"Were you angry at Ginny when you found out what she did?" Harry asked.
"Yes. If someone hurts you, I want to hurt them, full stop… but this was Ginny, so I had a hard time with what I was feeling. She paid for what she did, believe me. She lost her dream career, she lost you, she's a single mother, and she's alienated from most of her family, save Bill and George. Today, she said she felt like a new person when Molly hugged her and asked her to bring Ian home on Saturday."
"I still think you're a better person than me," he said and shared a bite of chicken.
"And you're my hero," she returned.
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Just before seven, Hermione knocked on the door of Ginny's flat. Ginny answered and took Hermione's cloak to hang on a hook by the door. She followed Ginny into the living room.
"Your flat is lovely," Hermione said, admiring the pastel and floral motif in the room.
"Thanks," Ginny said.
Babbling from a cot by the couch caught Hermione's attention. Hermione walked to it and saw the eleven-month old boy playing with a stuffed snitch and plush hippogriff. Her heart melted at the sight of the adorable auburn-haired, blue-eyed little boy. He saw Hermione, grinned, and held up the hippogriff.
"Yes, I see it," Hermione said.
Ginny picked him up from the cot. "Meet Ian Weasley."
"He's adorable," Hermione said and gently shook the small hand.
"Shall we check on supper?" Ginny asked and the three went to the kitchen.
As they ate, Hermione nodded in approval at the lamb chops. She saluted Ginny with a dinner roll. "These chops are delicious, and you have your mum's flair for bread."
Ian babbled and gnawed on a roll. He mashed his serving of vegetables on his tray and held up his pea-covered hands.
Ginny sighed. "And his spoon remains untouched," she mumbled.
"Does he know how to use it?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, but his way is fun," Ginny said.
As if to prove her point, he started to eat the mashed peas off his hand. He smacked his lips and babbled happily.
"At least he eats it," Hermione offered.
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When Hermione arrived back home, Harry was in the living room listening to Quidditch news on the wireless and playing with Gracie. She flopped on the couch next to him.
"How was supper?" he asked.
"I had a good time and Ian was adorable," Hermione said.
"I see that he left you parting gift," Harry said and pointed out a bit of food on the sleeve of her shirt.
"A bit of accidental magic," Hermione said.
"Wow," Harry replied.
"Indeed," Hermione chuckled. "Want to go out for a drink?"
"Sure, sounds fun."
She gave him a kiss. "Let me change my shirt."
She left the living room and went upstairs. A few minutes later, she returned. Bounding into the living room in a with her hair pulled back, heels on her feet, a bright smile for him; she was pretty as a picture. They decided on The Golden Goblet in Diagon Alley for the half-price Thursdays. Although Harry was one of the wealthiest wizards in England, he was humble and lived frugally, except when it came to Hermione. He would give her the world if she asked. When they walked through the door of The Golden Goblet, they were showered with butter beer, applause, and shouts of "surprise!" and "congratulations!" When the tumult quieted, there stood Harry and Hermione, dripping wet with butter beer. A camera flash was seen.
"Just what the bloody hell was that for?" Harry demanded.
"Ooops," a voice giggled from somewhere.
"Sorry mate, that was for someone else," someone said and handed them handkerchiefs.
Harry and Hermione looked at each other and burst out laughing. The barkeep gave Harry a handkerchief to clean his glasses. "Just so you know, drinks are on the house for you two tonight."
"Thanks."
"I like butter beer, just not wearing it," Hermione said. "I'll have a whiskey and cola, though, light on the cola," she winked.
A hand slapped Harry on the back. "Thanks for being such a sport, Potter. We thought you might start blastin' the place."
"It's butter beer, not dark magic," Harry quipped, prompting Hermione to snort.
"What's the occasion?" Harry asked.
"Some friends of ours got engaged today," he said.
"Good for them," Harry said and put his glasses back on his face.
"Despite cleaning charms, I'm still sticky," Hermione said. "And my hair is beyond help."
Harry sniffed his collar. "Eau de butter beer. Finish these drinks and go home?"
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Hermione groaned in pleasure as Harry massaged her scalp. "You have a gift."
He leaned forward and suckled on her neck below her ear. "Mmmhmm."
They were in his bathtub, which was more than large enough for two people, enjoying a steaming hot bubble bath. She was on her second hair washing, a duty of which Harry took seriously; which of course led to the rest her body being washed thoroughly clean of butter beer as well.
"You know that shower of yours is much too small, I guess you'll have to use this bath from now on," he said matter-of-factly.
She sighed. "I guess I'll just have to find my own place with a bath this size."
His hands paused. "Do you have an appointment to see a flat ?"
Her lips twitched, and she looked over her shoulder at him. "Did you just seriously ask me that?"
He had the classic deer-in-the-headlight look. "Um… I'm not sure what to say right now."
She took hold of his cock under the water. "I'm not going anywhere, Harry. Do you hear me?"
He nodded. What else could he say? His cock was in her hand!
"I'm going to tell you what I told someone today," she said, gently stroking his cock. He sighed and pressed a kiss to her temple.
She rested her hand on his chest. "I'm with you. I feel like it's the right place, here, with you. I'm happy here, with you."
She gave him a gentle, lingering kiss. "No one knows me like you do. I'm not interested in anyone else. I'm in love with you."
He was breathless at her declaration.
"Stand up," she whispered.
He stood and she stroked his throbbing erection. "I'm in love with this too, that gives me so much pleasure."
She gave it a fingertip caress before taking it into her mouth. She methodically, leisurely licked and sucked the length of him, causing him to roll his hips in time with the bobbing of her head. Then she took hold of his hips and pulled him closer to deep-throat him, which made him sob in ecstasy, but he didn't care how he sounded. This was a fantasy come true.
"More," he gasped.
She hummed and continued. He cursed and shouted his pleasure as her mouth worked his cock to a jerking, shuddering, dizzying climax. He plopped down back into the bath, splashing water everywhere. He held her close and praised her, knowing how she liked it when he talked dirty.
"Bloody hell, how am I supposed to shag you now?" he laughed.
"We'll figure something out," she said, patting his chest.
They got out of the bath and dried off and settled in Harry's bed, which was connected to his bath. She commented on the size of his bed (I like big beds!) and convenience of his bedroom that was connected to the bathroom. He cast a warming charm on the room and they got into bed. They lay in each other's arms and sighed.
"Marry me?" he asked.
She looked at him with wide, teary eyes and she took in a shuddering breath.
"Marry me?" he repeated.
She nodded quickly and kissed him. "I do, I really do want to, but—"
He closed his eyes. Too soon, you big prat!
Her voice wavered, and a tear fell down her cheek when she answered. "I always pictured my dad giving me away, a beautiful dress, my family and friends there celebrating with us, dancing…"
He kissed her and sat up. "I'm such a prat for just blurting it out like that. How do you put up with me? You deserve the wedding of your dreams, getting your dad's blessing, the whole nine yards."
"Would you really?" she asked.
"For you, anything," he replied.
She nodded. "Yes, I'll marry you."
He smiled and smothered her lips with his. He waxed poetic about how lovely her breasts were to him and demonstrated his admiration by caressing and suckling on them. He kissed his way down her stomach (making her giggle) and wasted no more time once his tongue found her clit. While his tongue worked her clit, fingers worked her quim. She writhed and moaned, rather naughtily praising his efforts. It was music to his ears.
He stroked his hard-again cock. He wouldn't be able to come again so soon, but he was hard enough, and that was enough to give his witch the shagging she wanted. He shifted to crouch between her legs, gave her one more languid lick, and plunged his cock in. She arched her back, moaned, and wrapped her legs around his hips. He cursed and shuddered at the feeling of perfection inside of her. This was where he belonged.
He leaned over her and gave her a deep thrust. "No one else."
She shook her head. "No one else."
He pumped deep and slow. "You're marrying me."
She nodded and moved with his hips.
"Do you want babies?" he asked
She nodded, blushing and breathless.
"Good." He punctuated the word with a hard thrust.
"This is how babies are made." He started pumping faster and harder. "My cock in you, over and over, and you loving it. Say you love it!"
"I love it!" she sobbed, digging her heels into his arse, her hips moving with his.
She was lost to him, lost to the moment, and loving it. It was during these times that she could truly let go of everything, to bare all to him. She didn't have to think about anything. Her logical mind shut down and the primal mind took over. She could just feel.
"Yes, come for me!" he urged and focused on deep, fast thrusting. It was little more than rutting at this point, but both were loving it. He loved being able to do this for her, when she could let go of everything and not have to think about anything. To just do what felt good.
She shuddered, her back arched, her nails raked his back, and she climaxed with a shriek of ecstasy and praises of his sexual talents.
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