Dreams

Snape rubbed his temples as the last dunderhead closed the door, but as soon as he was free of prying eyes he sprinted to his feet. This was the second time he had felt the wards of the shack stir in the same day. Not exactly the pattern for daring youngsters, though the cause remained to be seen.

He just hoped it didn't wear a silver mask.

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Ron opened his eyes to the darkness. It was of no use, everyone in his dorm was fast asleep but he simply couldn't sleep, because of the one that wasn't in his dorm. He cursed soundly as he opened the curtains, stepped on the carpet and went to Harry's trunk. He must sleep. Harry and Hermione were all right, they must just be crawling in some dark corner, trying to sprog, and he was just prying. He knew he shouldn't have interfered, not even by giving advices. Now they were probably enjoying themselves as he was here, worried sick as a new incarnation of his mother.

Finally having found the map, he opened it on Harry's bed, muttered the key and started looking for their names in every two dots that went together. Then he double checked. Then he went for the single dots. Then he noticed Snape's name, cursed and stood.

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"So what are the chances?"

"Of him being genetically sick?" Harry nodded, and she caressed his forehead. "Not high. We aren't cousins, exactly. I don't know about any illness running in my family. Yours? Apart from the glasses, I mean"

"Not that I know of"

"Then, if I take my vitamins, they must come out healthy"

"Vitamins?"

Hermione sat back and produced a bottle, and then another, and another. Harry looked at her and picked up one, raised it to his eyes. "Folic acid" it read.

"I've been taking them since Snape told us" she confessed. "That very same day, as I spoke to you, I was remembering my mom had put these in my trunk as dietary supplement. I usually skipped them" she shook her head. "Not anymore"

The wizard blushed a bit. He hadn't thought that far. Thank Merlin he had Hermione as… partner in crime? She really thought of everything.

"They could still be squibs…"

"Squibs? Coming from you?" he chuckled. "I don't think so"

"Harry, if it was that easy to predict, purebloods wouldn't have their knickers in a twist trying to preserve their magical power through inbreed"

"Fat favor it has done to them. Have you seen Crabbe?"

The girl tried not to laugh. On principle.

As Harry lied back, staring at the ceiling, a forearm behind his neck, she moved closer. Her hand caressed his chest softly, and she could see his muscles ripple beneath the skin. He closed his eyes.

"Tenth child, ah?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Celine Dion was the fourteenth" she answered.

"Are you planning on having that many?"

Hermione shook her head.

"I'm not planning on anything. You?"

"I have nothing against big families"

She eyed him.

"Harry James Potter, is that a smirk?"

The boy fixed his expression quickly. She tried not to smile at that.

"What I just told you, it also discards certain contraceptives: hormonal pills and implants and intrauterine devices have mechanisms that act after fecundation, preventing implantation, which implies death to the very young yet already conceived embryo…"

"Snape also mentioned them" he interrupted. "Condom isn't among them, right?"

"Nor are surgical methods" she confirmed. "I'd rather avoid magical methods, it's uncertain if they work against fecundation or against implantation."

The wizard shrugged.

"Plenty of choices, anyway"

"And I know how to use physiological signs of fertility for inducing or avoiding pregnancy. Though using those would require periodical abstinence"

She turned to see his face, then chuckled softly at his expression that translated to his next words:

"I really don't like the sound of that" he commented.

Catching herself, she remembered that no matter how incredibly well this had gone so far, and no matter how light her head felt because of it, this kept being serious.

"That's the downside, but it'd be just for maximum fertility periods." she explained. "The rest of the time, there's a free night every two days and a honeymoon period from ovulation to the next bleeding. The advantage is that those methods are completely natural, so no complications: no bleeding, no infections, no thrombosis, nothing"

"I thought natural methods weren't guaranteed"

"Calendar methods are not; they rely on statistics. I'm not speaking of those. I mean those based on the effect of estrogen and progesterone on menstrual cycle, body temperature and cervical mucus. It's like running a fever and diagnosing an infection. It requires a bit of knowledge and training, but I'm confident I can manage them… and quite eager to try, to be honest…" (1)

He was too quiet, way too quiet.

"But you know, your idea sounds good too…"

The boy sighed and sat. A hand went to his hair, and his gaze kept not meeting her.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

He opened his mouth, sighed again, shook his head.

"Harry… It's me…What's worrying you so?"

"I… I thought… last time… I thought you liked it"

At first she didn't get it. They had never used any contraceptive, so his commentary was simply out of topic.

"What do you mean?"

He shook his head and tried to stand, but she grasped his wrist and made him sit back.

"Harry, I truly, truly don't get it. What are you talking about?"

He looked away. His impersonation of a magical fish was in no way funny. Hermione was starting to panic. Everything was going so well… and then it wasn't. Suddenly, unexpectedly, he didn't want to talk anymore. This wasn't a hard topic, as far as she knew. So why…? When…? Then her eyes widened in understanding.

"Harry, look at me"

He didn't, so she had to hold his cheeks and make him face her but his eyes were still gazing away.

"You think I don't like being with you because I mentioned abstinence. Am I right?"

He evaded her hands.

"Well, you're wrong" she stated vehemently. She was still pondering if she should physically show him how wrong he was; but the timing would be for his sake, so it'd only make him think the marriage was for his sake too. She'd have to take the long way. "Harry, listen to me" she uttered, trying to meet his gaze; only when he managed to do so, she said: "I do love you, and I do want to be with you. I care about you. Must I prove it further?"

The boy stayed silent and frowning stubbornly, which she knew hid deep hurt. She grasped his hands then, ignoring his attempts to shake hers.

"Have you ever really…?"

That made her roll her eyes:

"How's that the center of everything?"

"How can you say that"

The witch paused, looking at him with bright fevered eyes. How to explain this? She'd have to be honest, yet she couldn't push him a millimeter farther, or she might just lose him for the time being. How to explain to him how confusing it was to seduce her best friend? To get trapped in the seduction? It hadn't been rape, at all; nonetheless it had been somewhat imposed on both of them. They both were finding their way in the dark, and not only because of their lack of sexual experience. She was still figuring out how to behave and what exactly she felt.

At least of some things, she was certain.

"Harry, there are… differences… anatomical differences between us… that lead to psychological and sexual ones. Women's reproductive system is not designed to reach… climax… that fast and easy: erotic sites are distributed throughout our bodies; we can have sex without anything even touching out equivalent to your glans –and activating it helps, a lot-. And there are significant psychological variables involved. Sometimes… sometimes orgasm is not even our main drive, and to try to make it the center of the… experience may only serve to cut us off from all the joy. That does not mean that we enjoy less. I think there was someone in Greek mythology that claimed having enjoyed nine times more being a woman than being a man."

"Guess the sex partner was more experienced than I am" he thought aloud bitterly.

"I don't have all that experience, either. Whatever gave you the impression you were on tryouts?"

"If you don't like it…"

"Were you even listening to me, Potter? I am telling you that I do like it. It might be hard to grasp with that male brain of yours, but just being into your arms means a great deal to me. You have no idea of what it does to me just to see you all feral and to know it's because of me. You don't know how much I've fought against it, especially since you brought eternity into the equation; because I should have laughed it off, it's ridiculous to get married at our age, yet I simply can't and you don't know how frustrating…"

The girl sighed, but one look at Harry told her it had worked. There was this speculative expression, and his eyes were burning.

"It's all too new, I must overcome the shock of hot fantasies becoming sweating realities, and the… circumstances aren't helping. But I have felt a great deal of earth-shattering sensations, maybe more than you, and to answer your question: I'm not sure if they count as… orgasm… People speak of it as some kind of metaphysical experience and I keep expecting it to surpass my wildest fantasies and maybe it's they were exaggerating or describing an ideal that's not to be reached in this world. But whatever can be reached, we will. It's not as if we didn't have a lifetime for it"

He seemed divided, but it was certainly time for him to speak, she couldn't build a relationship on a monologue. Though she might help a bit.

"You trust me, right?" he nodded resolutely. "Do you think I'd subject you to marry someone that doesn't even like conjugal relationships?" she waited until he sighed and shook his head.

"I just… I find hard not to jump you in Transfigurations" she chuckled, though he was serious, "then you speak of abstinence, I… I get confused"

"It's easier for me because before we were… together… I had already decided periodical abstinence was the best alternative. After all, it's just time management. You'll have shifts, I'll have work to do, the baby will have fits, it's not as if we lived for sex. We'll be on honeymoon for a year, maybe two, abstinence will get easier and hopefully it'll help us to not take… each other… for granted."

"I don't think I'll ever take you for granted"

The wizard looked as if he wanted to hug her but didn't dare. She cupped his cheek, and he looked at her with his oh-so-bright green eyes before closing his eyes and leaning on it slightly. Her heart clenched, and she moved closer so she could put her arms around him.

"I really don't want you to feel forced into this" he whispered in her ear.

"I'm not. I promise I'm not. I won't ever pretend to… want or feel or… experience… something I'm not. We have to be frank with each other. But you must start trusting me to decide for myself what's better for me. Starting with your own place in my life. If you want to take it"

He sighed.

"I do. I very much do"

And very, very slowly, he put his arms around her. It was so warm and safe, there, with his own now-so-familiar smell of freshness and male and him. At some point her change of position or his arms as they moved around her, had wrinkled her top, its edge moving up and leaving part of her belly naked so she could feel his warmth directly against her skin. It was glorious. She wondered if she could now kiss him, without him assuming it was for his sake; so she eyed him, and there was this look in his eyes, as if he was wondering, too. So she did kiss him.

At once his hand had moved to hold her nape, the kiss initially chaste, increasing in heat with each time they tasted each other. She could feel his restraint, his lips trembling slightly with the effort he was making to not simply devour her, and at the thought her inner muscles clenched. It was hot. His longing, his self-control. To witness it, to be touched by that inner war, turned her on as nothing would.

At the same time, they were in the middle of very serious negotiations, but he'd have to be the one to remember it, because she simply refused to be reasonable with his hands caressing her back like this. Her very sight was blurred.

"But if we're doing this" he added playfully, before another knee-weakening kiss "I just want another clause: no sex-strike." This time the kiss was slightly softer, and she started to be able to actually think. "No matter how stupid I have been or how stubborn Ron and me are being… that's no way to negotiate"

When he finally released her, she shook her head and listened to the echo of his words, so she could make sense of them.

"Do I have your word for it?"

My word for what…? Ah. Hiding her smile, she reached for the pen to write that down.

"I need verbal confirmation" he insisted.

She looked straight into his eyes and tried not to be too obviously amused, though she couldn't stop it from showing in her eyes.

"You do"

He nodded gravely, his eyes intense, like those of a predator.

"What?"

"You look properly kissed" he informed. "And I really, really want to jump you now so please let's finish this"

A heartbeat, as she pondered if it'd be better to just change the order of their activities for tonight. She did want to jump him too. Reason won. Barely. He watched her as she carefully filled the parchment with her tight, pragmatic handwriting, then muttered to herself a summary of what they had agreed upon.

Then she went silent, so silent that he ended up asking:

"Is there something else?"

"Also…" she gulped, "in the off case we wouldn't be able to conceive naturally… Harry, I could give… myself… to you this easy because even if it's unfair for a kid to be conceived for the sake of his father, well… it wasn't going to kill anyone. But there are extremes… In vitro fertilization… they dispose of part of the embryos, for experiments… I can't decide upon those lives…"

From the corner of her eye, she saw him move -shrug.

"I'm not such a blood geek. I'd really like children, at some point, but I'll love them just the same if they are adopted, you know…"

He sounded as if he meant it. As if it was that easy. She looked at him, not sure of believing.

"What?" he finally asked.

Hermione sighed.

"I wish it was that easy for me"

A heartbeat.

"I thought that's what you were asking…"

"It was. I just… I'll need more. If I discover my only chance of having a baby is that one, the pull would be… I might not hold… I'll need you to help me… stay coherent… stay true to what my reason tells me is right… If… I'll need to accept and move on –move on to the children we could actually help-, and I'll have no one else to hold me to my word. You'll have to help me to move on."

She felt it then. His hand, in hers. His thumb, drawing circles on its back. She raised her gaze to his –bright green eyes seemingly owning all the light in the room.

"We'll do that for each other"

The witch saw it in his gaze. The full meaning of it, transcending this particular topic they were agreeing upon. They had a war to fight, and there's no white in war, just shades of gray all different from the other. They'd have to be each other's line, each other's conscience, if they weren't to become worse than the enemy they were forced to defeat.

"But, Hermione, if you want kids this bad…" he suddenly seemed to remember. "What if I can't give them to you…?"

"You will"

"This is serious, Hermione…"

"I am being serious."

He had stood, and was now pacing as his fingers sank into his hair.

"As a horcrux… you heard Snape… I might be unable…"

"Harry…"

"Maybe I shouldn't have asked… We should postpone this until after… until we know…"

She had jumped to her feet to reach him where he was now: facing the window, moonlight shining upon his intensely troubled expression. He was still speaking as her arms circled his waist. Even through the clothes on his back, he still felt her lips on his shoulder; the light contact made him shiver, she could feel it, close that she was to him.

"Earlier today, when I was speaking to Ron" she told him quietly, "I said I'd have been perfectly happy without a family. Without kids, Harry. I would. Because happiness is in me, not in what I have. And especially not in 'whom I have'; no one possesses anyone else. Kids are not properties someone must have at any cost or dispose of, and a person must never be treated like a stallion. My willingness to be your wife is not in function of your ability of giving me kids. I don't want 'kids', Harry. I want your kids…"

Then she felt it. It was so very slight, a mere ripple of magic around them. The fraction of his face she could see from this point –he had turned slightly-, shadowed, cut against the clearer sky, gave nothing away, yet she could feel the pull, the tightening of his heart, the tickle of his skin where it wanted to touch her; his willingness to believe, to let it go, to dare.

"And we will have them" she went on. "One way or another, we will. Twenty years from now, we will be driving our second son to King's cross. War will be a distant memory, then. It'll be a bright autumn morning, and we'll meet Ron at the station, and he'll say something amusing and I'll roll my eyes but you'll probably laugh. That second son will be probably worried about the sorting ceremony, and there will be a little girl still waiting to turn eleven we'll have to comfort, too. And we'll be so very happy that we will no longer remember standing in front of this window, worrying uselessly about a future we can't foretell"

"It has been foretold" he pointed out.

She remembered.

"Then we'll defeat that prophesy. So we can go on with our lives"

His hand finally came to hold hers on his chest. She hid her smile in his shoulder.

"So… just to be clear" she said. "We're doing this, right?"

"You sure?"

"More than you are"

"Hardly"

There was the sweet pressure of his hand on hers. She let her forehead rest on his spine for a second, felt him shiver again.

"This is way too easy" he said. "Dreaming with you…"

"The hard part is putting it to work" she warned him.

"Oh, but I want to" he said vehemently. "I want to, so badly… Death seem always so close… but now that I have further reason to hold on to life, I'll get back to you… and to little Lily… Because I love you both so very much… You have no idea, Hermione, of how much I love you"

He turned gently, his lips meeting hers halfway, hand holding her cheek as the other one pressed against her back. Her own fingers had gone to his nude chest, though they weren't pushing, precisely. Someone shivered, or maybe both, she wouldn't know. She felt herself going all jelly-legged and wet, and maybe he knew, for he was suddenly carrying her –a forearm beneath her weak knees- to the other room, a room she confusedly identified as a dormitory when she felt the mattress behind her back, embracing her. She was trapped between hard softness and soft hardness and she didn't even have to think before choosing: she met his lips halfway, letting him know in no uncertain terms that his weight was most welcome. She felt him smile against her lips. There was something intensely magnetic –and slightly intimidating- in this Harry quietly assured, gently confident that pressed against her with just the perfect weight, every move wisely calculated to make her moan and wriggle behind him.

And then, they felt the chill, the cold eyes of magic searching for humans. And they were instantly on their feet, wands at the ready, stretching their hearing so they could catch the slightest noise.

"Who are you?" came a male voice.

They looked at each other. Snape.

And then, the second, womanly voice. Harry couldn't catch the words, but Hermione's eyes opened wide, then she looked to him:

"That's my mom"

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(1) Well, judging by seven years of successful use, I'd say they work. Only resulting kid was born exactly nine months after correctly identified ovulation. But get training if you want to try them.

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Reviews, please?