Author's Note: This shall be slightly lengthy folks, so please buckle up!
Firstly, to get it out of the way: Nope. Don't own it.
Now this story is rated and shall always be rated M. There will be mature themes, and there will be erotica.
This fanfiction will explore and delve into a BDSM relationship involving my favourite ship *drumroll* Harmione. That being said, there will be no bashing. No Ron bashing, no Molly bashing, and no Dumbledore bashing. There will be conflict, sure, but I shall not turn the characters into caricatures of themselves.
If you are reading this expecting Porn without Plot, or SuperGod Harem Harry, this fic is not for you. This fic shall be a story about two damaged characters on a journey of healing and true love. It shall be focused on Harry and Hermione, and neither character will sleep with every single character in HP Canon.
If you're still reading this, please enjoy the story, and let me know what you think! Sock reviews for Dobby and Kreacher are always welcome.
New Beginnings
Bedroom, Grimauld Place:
Just a friend? She had never been just a friend. He loved her. He knew he did. That was the only thing in his life that he was sure about.
Mudblood! Filth!
Ron…
Bellatrix...
Him... A flash of green light.
"No!" Harry exclaimed bolting upright. A groan emanating from the mass of bushy hair struggling to get out of his arms brought him back to reality and the man loosened his grip, letting the girl in his arms move from the awkward position she had been trapped in. Nightmare. Well... nightmares. It always started on the night they kissed and quickly morphed into a hit reel of the worst moments in his life. Perhaps he needed to give in and see that muggle psychiatrist that Hermione went to. At least when she stayed over, he didn't scream while asleep. Thank Merlin for small mercies.
"You know Harry, when I said I wanted to experiment with breath play, this is not what I had in mind. " Hermione murmured coughing, amber eyes blinking sleepily as she leant forward, placing a kiss to his cheek. "I don't mind being trapped in your arms Mr. Potter, but breathing is important… even when you're asleep. " She murmured with smile, pulling her boyfriend down to her chest, gently pushing her fingers through his hair. Messy as ever. Some things truly never changed. "Nightmare? Same one? I'm here Harry. I'm right here. Can't you hear me?" She asked softly, shifting so he could hear her heartbeat. "I'm real Harry. The nightmare isn't. I'm real." She murmured, gently pulling the boy back down to the bed and climbing on top of him, legs moving to either side of his waist as she straddled him. Her weight was comforting. She had discovered it was the quickest way to bring him back to reality.
"Mione?" Harry whispered, the wild look of desperation in his eyes subsiding as he groaned softly, "You're sore. You need rest. I'll be okay." He whispered, gently pulling the girl down into his chest, "Yeah. Same nightmare. I really thought I was past this." He whispered, sighing as the girl slipped off his body, only to cuddle into his side.
"Sir..." She whispered, reaching out to cup his cheek, turning his face towards her.
She was extremely worried, Harry realized, shooting the girl a tired smile. That was a title she rarely used, and never outside the bedroom. Only during their most intimate moments, when he had stripped her down to her most vulnerable self, to the scared little girl who had to give up her own parents, the girl who had been mocked her entire life for her intellect, the girl with whom he had finally found happiness...
"Don't worry Mione. I promise to take the first appointment that your muggle doctor gives me. I just don't know how to... talk to him about Voldemort and torture and that night in the mansion." He whispered, hands pushing underneath her shirt, his cold clammy palm making contact with her feverish skin. Warm. Real. Beautiful.
"He's a squib. Very disconnected from the magical world, but I promise you... he'll understand. And help." Hermione murmured, leaning to place a kiss to the corner of his lips, "Now, unless you want a sore and very cranky princess tomorrow, you better put me to bed."
Purpose. Taking care of her gave him purpose, the girl realized as he laughed, pulling the blanket back over them. His entire life had been engineered towards a single goal. Defeat Lord Voldemort. Now that it was done, he had no idea what to do with his life anymore. So he took care of her. He cooked, he cleaned, he remodeled his house. Purpose and a sense of control. Two things that had always been lacking in his life. They were made for each other, she thought wryly, resting her head back on his chest, his heartbeat bringing a sense of security that few other things in the world did for her. The boy who craved control in his life, and the girl who couldn't spend more than a minute without searching for the next authority figure in her life. And to think it all started with a kiss. A kiss and a flock of birds...
Empty Classroom: (6th Year)
"Birds, huh?" Harry asked, gently closing the door behind him, marvelling at the quality of the girl's spell work. Even as upset as she was, it was perfect, the flock of yellow canaries chittering around her head in perfect unison.
"Y-yeah. Just... felt like practising. Party over?" She hiccupped, furiously wiping away her tears. Harry couldn't see her like this. She wouldn't allow him to see her like this. A hormonal teenager, pining away after a boy. A boy who was currently shoving his stupid tongue down the throat of a girl she could never compete with. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
"Got too noisy for me. I'm guessing you saw what I saw?" Harry asked, pushing himself on top of the bench the girl was occupying. Stupid Ron. Which boy in their right mind would choose Lavender Brown over Hermione Granger?
"Not that difficult to miss Harry. He looked like he was eating her face. In the middle of the common room." She muttered bitterly, twirling the birds around the two, before allowing them to return to flying aimlessly.
"Yeah. Ron needs to work on his kissing..." He mumbled, unsure how to react to the girl's words. Yes. His best friend needed to work on his kissing, but with his other best friend! Not Lavender Brown. "At least she wasn't crying..."
"You do realize you aren't a bad kisser Harry." Hermione hiccupped, trying to stifle a giggle as she turned towards him with a watery smile, "Cho just..."
"Yeah. I know."
"You don't have to stay. I just... To be rejected by the boy you thought you liked for the very girl who takes every opportunity to call you an unattractive know-it-all..."
"It's attractive. Um. Your intelligence." Harry murmured, before he could stop himself. Where was he going with this? He was just trying to make his best friend feel better, right? That was all. Yep. That was all. She was his best friend. He was, and had never been attracted to her. No sir. Absolutely not. "I mean. I'd rather listen to you talk about SPEW than have to tolerate Lavender giggling at the latest issue of Witch Weekly. Your intelligence is attractive to me." He murmured, his eyes widening as the implications of what he had just said dawned on him. Attractive to him. TO HIM?!
"Hermione I-" He continued, desperate to fix this before he irreparably broke their friendship. Ronald. She liked Ronald. And he... liked her. If his life wasn't complicated enough this year, now he felt as if he were well and truly fucked.
"Like me?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. She was upset, not a moron. The girl could see where he was going with this, even though Harry was taking painfully long to get there. The Boy-Who-Lived liked her? She had never been able to separate the legend from the person. The friend from the authority figure that most books portrayed him as. So, she just pretended that she wasn't attracted to the goofball that she pretended was just her best friend. Nothing more. She never had a crush on her best friend. No ma'am. So, she shifted her attention to the next boy she thought she had even the barest of chances with. Someone she liked, and thought she could grow to love. "Harry, I don't need your pity."
Now or never boy, his mind screamed at him, pushing, prodding, basically dragging his body towards the girl.
Ronald Weasley. You better be damned sure you're making the right choice, the boy thought gulping as he closed the distance between the two. For I'm about to cross a line here, and I doubt there'll be any coming back if you regret the choice you've just made.
"Not pity. I mean it. I dunno. I just… I can't explain it Mione. I like you… I've always liked you. Somewhere down the line, I convinced myself and everyone that we were just friends, and that attraction was simply what friends feel for each other." Harry murmured, pausing inches away from her face, vivid green eyes locked with warm amber ones.
"Funny... That's how I'd explain my feelings towards you Harry Potter." Hermione murmured, shooting the boy a bitter smile, "If you're going to kiss me, you better do it before you lose your balance."
"I don't want us to snog just yet… I want this to be right…"
"Then let us make it right…" Hermione whispered, gently brushing her lips against his, before she pulled away, smiling nervously at him. Her first kiss. Her first kiss with her first crush.
"Are you sure I'm not horrible? Maybe I have garlic breath and I don't know it." Harry teased as the girl shifted, resting her head on his shoulder, "Every girl I kiss seems to cry." He continued as the girl let out a shaky laugh, simply swatting the boy with her hand.
He said nothing more after that, simply allowing the girl to nuzzle into him as the two looked at the birds fly around them. After nearly five years together, no words were needed. They would figure out their new dynamic come morning. For now, the two simply enjoyed each other's company. Their lives, their relationship and even their own selves would drastically change over the next two years, but for now, they only existed in their perfect little world, and Harry would not have it any other way.
They were friends, they said. Well, that was still the truth, wasn't it?