JK Rowling and whatever other appropriate affiliates obviously own the rights to Harry Potter and the Harry Potter universe. I own nothing but the inserted original characters/plot concepts. I make no money on this. This is simply a FAN based work.
I would like to give a huge shoutout to the wonderful betas that agreed to help me comb through past chapters to catch all the pesky lingering errors that I can no longer see: Amelia_Davies_Writes, GalaxyNightangale – thank you, your fresh eyes see more than mine.
And thank you to Greca for agreeing to read and beta my new stuff. Your help is greatly appreciated.
WARNINGS:
This chapter is largely smut. Please note this scene has been modified from the original AO3 version to meet FFN's guidelines regarding 'mature' content.
If you want to read the full smut scene, it is available on AO3.
Chapter Fifteen
How should I start this? Hermione pondered as she closed the space between them, noting that Harry stayed in the kitchen and leaned up against the counter.
His eyes had darted from her now blushed face to her hand which was still gripping the hem of her shirt, then back up to her face. She couldn't help but smile inwardly at the fact that Harry had not even glanced at her visible scars. His one eyebrow was ever so slightly raised, and she began chastising herself for her outward physical tells.
I would be a right shit poker player, she thought as she stopped just shy of the kitchen and leaned against the single center tent post in front of Harry. He clearly knew that something was on her mind, but he remained silent and waited for her to speak first.
"Hey," she said somewhat shyly, as she looked at him and instinctively crossed her arms over her chest to make herself feel more comfortable. They had taken dinner a bit late that evening and the tent was already dim from the darkness outside.
"Hey," he said quietly, a small smile on his lips as he looked at her and it made her stomach twist nervously.
Shit, she thought as she looked at him. Her mind was racing, and she wished that she knew what he was thinking. The way that he looked at her – the slight smile he had, the way his eyes heated and danced in the little remaining light as he stared at her, and his relaxed posture as he leaned comfortably against the kitchen counter made her insides squirm in anticipation.
"Harry," she spoke softly as she felt the blush on her cheeks deepen.
"Hermione," he said slowly as he studied her face with quiet amusement.
"I was thinking," she managed to get out, before she found that she lost her confidence to speak further.
"Don't you always?" he teased lightly as he leaned back further into the counter and grinned widely when she scowled at him.
"Yes, well – I suppose that's true." She rolled her eyes, knowing that Harry was just teasing and trying to lighten the mood. He had clearly picked up on the fact that she was nervous to say what she wanted to say. Again, due to her ridiculously poor poker face. "I – um, I think you were right."
"Really?" Harry said with a small amount of genuine surprise. His eyebrow quirked up before his brow furrowed ever so slightly and he gave her a curious look. "About what exactly?"
Hermione swallowed. Her hands had started to shake so she dropped one of the arms that crossed her chest to lay across her stomach so that she could grip the bottom hem of her soft shirt again. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and Harry continued to look at her in anticipation and confusion. He had no idea of the war that was currently being waged inside her – how her heart was beating erratically, and how her stomach was fluttering wildly as she tried to get the courage to tell him exactly what he had been right about.
"About us," the words left her lips so quietly that she wasn't sure if Harry heard them until she saw his shoulders stiffen. She stared at him and waited, waited for him to speak – but he didn't. He just slowly pushed himself from the kitchen counter and began to close the distance between them.
Hermione pushed her back further into the tent pole as Harry approached and she gripped herself more tightly. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous to have him move closer to her, he had been close to her before – much closer. But somehow this felt like it was the first time. Probably because it was the first time that it was real between them – or real from her perspective at least. It was the first time that she was openly admitting to herself that she cared for him, wanted him, would be with him and that she planned to outright acknowledge it going forward.
"What do you mean, Hermione?" Harry said softly. He had stopped moving just in front of her and he was now standing only a foot away though he kept his hands at his sides and refrained from touching her. Hermione was still nervously gripping her own body with her hands as Harry stood quietly waiting for a response. His head was tilted to the side, his eyes curious and filled with emotion and her heart was all but hammering in her chest.
"I um," Hermione stuttered and cleared her throat, then looked down at his chest before forcing herself to meet his gaze once more.
Courage Hermione, she thought as she forced her back to straighten against the pole and her hands to calm. This was it, this was what she wanted – she knew that she did, now she just had to have the courage to follow through and tell him. This was a moment that she would never forget, the moment where she decided to make things real between them and she knew there was no turning back.
"That it makes us stronger," she said at last. "Being together, it – it would make us stronger. You were right, Harry, I – I was afraid to acknowledge my feelings. I was afraid to make this real – because I am absolutely terrified of losing you. I – I don't know what I would do without you, Harry – I – I want to be with you. I don't want to hide from this, I don't want to pretend that this isn't a thing."
She stared at him determinedly, she had dropped her hands from their comforting position across her chest and they now rested at her sides clenching the hem of the sleeves firmly. Harry was staring at her intensely, his eyes bright as they looked at her.
"Hermione," he said softly. "You don't have to do this. I said that I was fine with what we have I don't want you to–"
"I'm not just saying it, Harry," she cut him off with a hard look of determination in her eyes. She could feel the fear and anticipation that had been coursing through her body fade away. "After Godric's Hollow… it – it's like the third fucking time we have almost died since the end of summer and what I've realized is that I am going to be devastated – and I am going to hurt whether I outwardly acknowledge my feelings for you or not. Harry, I – I care for you, I – I want to be with you, I want to see where this goes. I'm terrified of losing you, I'm terrified to screw this up, to ruin what we have or to get distracted from our mission – all of the things that I told you before are still valid and I'm still absolutely petrified of them. But you were right. War or not – this, we, are worth fighting for and it is only going to make me stronger. We will be stronger together, you – you were right, Harry. I want this."
Harry hesitated a moment, his eyes flooding with emotion before he stepped forward and pulled her into a heated kiss. His hands had planted themselves firmly on her hips and he pushed her back into the tent pole, pushing his body into hers. She latched her arms around his back, gripping his thin shirt tightly as she pulled him in closer. His mouth moved quickly against hers, as if searching her for any doubts, as if in disbelief of what she had said before he pulled away quickly gasping for breath. Hermione's lips trembled at the loss of contact and she looked up at him in confusion.
"Are you sure?" he breathed out against her lips as he looked down at her intensely.
"Yes, you stupid wizard," she breathed before she latched her lips firmly to his and pulled his body back close to hers.
Her heart was thudding so loudly in her chest she was positive Harry could hear it. His hands were everywhere – on her sides, her chest, around her back, then tangled in her hair as they kissed like their lives depended on it.
She moaned into his mouth as he sucked on her bottom lip and he groaned as she pushed her hips into him. Her back was plastered against the tent pole now and Harry angled her head upward so he could kiss her more deeply. His hand on her neck made her shiver against him. It was like they had fallen apart at the seams and all of their pent-up frustrations and want had been released all at once. Harry's hesitation was gone and he allowed himself to touch Hermione freely and Hermione found her own hands weaving under the hem of his shirt.
He parted her legs with his thigh, pressing hard against her core and she groaned out at the pressure against her center.
Fuck, she groaned inwardly as she panted for breath and Harry began kissing down her neck. She ran her fingers along his sides and his chest, his skin was hot, and his body was hard. The air in the tent felt thick and the temperature had risen to the point that she worried she might start to sweat. She wanted him, she wanted all of him. It wasn't just because of the heat of the moment, and it wasn't just a split-second realization. She had known for a while that she craved his touch, she wanted to feel him against her, she wanted him to be her first.
The thought had crossed her mind over the past few weeks but she had dismissed it as a distracting and stupid idea – thinking that there was no time for such things while in the middle of a war. But now when she thought about it her original opinion seemed stupid and childish. They were in the middle of nowhere and threatened by death at every turn. There was a very real possibility that she would not survive this at all and that she would never have the opportunity to experience sex, or any other aspects of an intimate relationship.
So, it seemed utterly ridiculous to hold out for a future that may never happen – for an opportunity that may never come. It was like suddenly Harry's words and Bill and Fleur's wedding took on a whole new meaning for Hermione. There was a difference between being irresponsible in the face of war and living in the face of war and refusing to allow the war to control her life. Allowing yourself relationships, friendships, closeness, joy and physical contact did not make you weak. It gave you motivation, it gave you a reason to continue on even when things seemed at their darkest.
Hermione tugged at Harry's shirt, pushing it up his chest as he continued to nibble at her neck. Seeming to understand her intent Harry grabbed the hem of his shirt and quickly pulled it over his head before placing one hand back on her waist as the other came up to rest on the side of her face where he stroked her cheek with the soft pad of his thumb. They were both flushed from their kiss and the heat between them, and Hermione felt nervous as she looked at Harry's chest.
She had seen him shirtless before… but not like this, not in this way. He wasn't sporting a ridiculous six-pack, but he was lean and trim, and she could see the muscle definition across his chest and stomach. She felt the heat between her legs increase as she slowly raised her eyes back up to his face. His leg was still pressed between hers but he seemed to be waiting for her to take the lead – for her to define how they were going to proceed.
Carefully, she leaned forward and kissed him again, slowly, sucking on his tongue as it entered her mouth and pushing her hips into his. She could feel him against her hip as he groaned out into her mouth. She placed her hands on his bare chest, trying to ignore the slight tremble they had as she felt the heat of his skin. He circled his arms back around her, pushing her firmly into the tent pole as they kissed more passionately. She felt his hands lift the hem of her thin long-sleeved shirt and brush up against her skin. She trembled at his touch, not from fear of him touching her scars, no – she trembled in anticipation of what his touches would bring.
Slowly he raised the hem of her shirt and she raised her arms so he could gently bring the fabric up and over her head. Despite her best efforts to not worry about her marred chest she froze in the dim light of the tent. The glow flickered gently around them in the quiet night as she stood shirtless before Harry, both of her hands clutching at his chest. She had dropped her head after the shirt passed over her and her eyes were now locked to his abdomen. She was breathing quickly from their heated kiss and her heart hammered as she waited for Harry to respond.
Breathe, breathe, just breathe – it's fine, don't worry about what you look like, she repeated the mantra in her head as she tried to empty her thoughts.
"Hermione," he whispered gently as he dropped his forehead to lean against her own. His hand that was firmly on her hip slowly began to trace up her side as she shivered. "You are beautiful."
Hermione shuddered against him as his hand caressed her skin gently and he dipped his head back down to capture her lips. He kissed her softly, reassuringly, knowing that this was difficult for her. That it had probably taken every ounce of her courage to let him remove her shirt and then stand bare before him. Slowly she started to respond with more fever, and the pace of their locked lips quickened as he pushed himself into her once more. Her hands travelled down his chest and grabbed onto the belt of his jeans. She tugged it gently before she broke their kiss to speak.
"Harry," she panted against his ear. "Take me to your bed."
Harry responded by kissing her fiercely and gripping her hips tightly. They moved together to his bunk just a few steps away, their steps unsteady and slightly clumsy but their kiss unbroken until Hermione's knees bumped against the frame of his bunk and she dropped back onto it. Without hesitating she moved back against his pillows. Harry followed her quickly, crawling over top of her and locking their lips once more. He was laying between her legs now, hands tangled in her hair again, pressed into her core as she pushed her hips upwards into him. He groaned outwardly as he pushed back in response, his hands trailing along her body as his lips moved against hers.
It was everything that she needed, everything that she had wanted – and still it wasn't enough.
Hermione's body was practically vibrating at his touch, the heat between her legs flared as he grinded against her and all she could think about was how she wanted to be closer to him. How she needed to feel him. Her body felt starved for contact and she found her doubts and endless inner chatter falling away as she pressed into the heat between them and allowed her body to react how it wanted without her mind over-analyzing everything as it usually would. In the strangest way, it was the most freeing feeling that she'd experienced to date – to let her mind empty of its constant worry and to just be with Harry in this moment. To be shirtless with no regard for her scars, to be pasted up against his body and to let go of the control that the war had on her actions and life thus far.
"I want you," she breathed against his mouth as he thrust his hips more firmly into hers and a groan seeped out between her lips. She couldn't take the mounting pressure between her thighs any longer and she wanted to take back control of her life, of her experiences and her growth. She wanted to allow her body and mind to have this.
"I want you too, Hermione," he breathed against her as he kissed her again.
"No, Harry," she panted against him as she broke their kiss and moved her hand to tug on his belt. "I want you."
She realized that he had misunderstood her words. He was thinking that she meant that she wanted him in the way that they had spoken of before – which was of course true, but not what she meant at the moment. The tug on his belt had gotten his attention though and he drew back to look at her face. He was propped up on his elbow, hand cradling her neck while his other hand froze along her side. His eyes had widened though they were still hazy with lust from their intense kiss and unbearably pleasant grinding – but her direct statement had sobered him. He was breathing hard and looking at her intently.
"Hermione," he said quietly, his voice was that familiar deep baritone that made her toes curl in anticipation. "We don't have to do that yet. You don't need to rush – I don't want to push you, we have time."
"But we don't know if we truly do have time, do we, Harry?" she said quietly as she looked up at him. Her hand remained firmly on his belt and she snaked the other between them to rest gently on the side of his face. "I'm not rushing. I want this – I want you. I want you to be my first."
Her words were so quiet that had it been a windy night in the Forest of Dean he wouldn't have heard her. She felt her heart twist in anticipation as she gauged Harry's face. His want was evident, and she could see him struggling internally. She knew he was worried that she might be rushing into things between them.
"Harry, we don't know what's going to happen. I want to be optimistic that things will turn out fine and that we will have time together in the future," she said as she bit her lip nervously, pausing before she spoke her next words. "But Harry, I know how I feel about you and I know what I want. You know I never rush into things, so please don't worry that that's what this is. I – I want to do this with you. I'm tired of letting this war take from me – take from us, and I won't let it take this from us too. I want to know what it's like, I want to experience this while we know that we have the time."
She took a breath as Harry dropped his forehead to rest on hers and he let out a small groan between his teeth.
"Harry," she spoke in barely a whisper. "I want to have sex with you."
Her chest tightened as his eyes snapped open at her words. She had said it. She made herself say it out loud and now she could not help but feel absolutely mortified with herself. Merlin help me, she thought as she closed her eyes tightly, unable to bear the silence between them or the intense and calculating look Harry had been giving her.
Then she felt his lips against hers, gentle and tentative. He was kissing her slowly, and she could feel his hand tighten on her hip.
"Are you sure, Hermione?" he asked against her lips.
"Yes," she whispered as she latched her lips more tightly to his.
Harry groaned out at her words as she nervously pushed her hips up into his once more. Her stomach fluttered as he gripped her tightly and he pressed his hips back in response. He brought his hand to her neck, tracing the lines of her while he turned his head to kiss her more deeply. She could feel the restraint Harry had beginning to fall away as their kiss quickened. Hermione brought both of her hands down to his belt and undid the buckle before nervously unbuttoning the top button of his jeans. She could feel the heat of him through the fabric and her hand shook with nerves as she undid the zipper of his jeans.
She was a bundle of nerves. Not doubt – just nerves. She had no idea what to expect, no idea what she was doing, no idea how to touch a man in this way. Harry readjusted himself above her, his lips leaving hers as he sat up and shucked off his jeans so that he was only in his boxers. Then slowly, with intense heat in his eyes, he lowered his hands to her jeans and undid the button.
She watched, completely still and transfixed as he slowly pulled her jeans down her legs until she was left only in her panties. She had to clench the sheets on his bed to keep her hands from instinctively covering herself from his view. But she remained strong and forced herself to accept her mostly naked presence in front of Harry.
If I can't be mature enough for him to see me naked, we shouldn't be having sex, she thought firmly as she forced herself to sit up and she reach her hands behind herself.
Her hands fumbled as she unclasped her bra and slowly removed the straps from her shoulders. Harry watched her movements, his eyes tracking her hands like a hawk as she pulled the bra away and left her chest exposed for him to see. She could hear his slight intake of breath as he gazed at her and she could feel the heat on her cheeks intensify under this stare. Then she was on her back again, leaned against the pillow as Harry kissed her deeply. He ran his hand over her chest nervously, gently palming her breasts as he muttered that she was 'perfect' and 'beautiful' against her neck. She could feel him pressed directly against her core, separated only by the thin fabric of her panties and his boxers. It was the most intimate thing she had ever felt and she shuddered deliciously against him at the feel as he pressed himself against her.
"Harry," she panted against his neck as she clutched him tightly and bit his shoulder gently. She wasn't sure where the desire to bite him had come from, but she'd done it before she had even thought it through. Harry's groan in response made her stomach flutter before she continued. "Harry – pl – please."
He slid his hand down her side and hooked a thumb under the band of her panties before bringing his lips away from her neck to pull them all the way down to her calves. She kicked them off the remainder of the way and waited while he braced himself on his elbow to pull off his own boxers. Then they laid there, Harry propped up on his elbow – eyes devouring her body as they flicked from her face, to her chest, to the newly revealed space between her legs. She couldn't help the intake of breath that escaped her as she looked over his body – from his lustful wanting eyes, to his well-muscled chest, to the large erect member between his legs.
She felt the heat in her double, and she found herself wondering how it was going to fit down there.
Sensing her apprehension Harry lowered himself back on top of her and kissed her deeply. She melted against him and moaned when he brought two fingers to slide through her already slick folds. He stroked her gently, falling into the rhythm that he had used the last time he brought her over the edge, and the coil in her core wound tightly at his touch. When he slipped a finger slowly inside her she gasped against his lips, her body unfamiliar with the intrusion. She had never had anything inside her before – even in all the times that she had tried touching herself she had only ever danced on the surface and stroked her clit and the sensation was something that she struggled to describe.
Harry was moving his finger inside her as if he was searching for something, stroking gently around. After a moment of his prodding her mind began to wonder what it was he was doing, or if sex was even going to be that enjoyable – aside from the pleasant pressure of having something inside her, she couldn't help but feel like his finger seemed to be wandering aimlessly without much result. But she pushed her thoughts down and tried to relax, unwilling to give in to her nervousness or worried thoughts that she may not enjoy sex.
He drew back from her to look at her face as he continued to touch her. Her eyes fluttered open to see him staring down at her with a look of concentration in his eyes and heat flushed to her face.
His finger is inside me and he is just looking at me, the thought occurred before she could stamp it out andembarrassment flooded through her veins. Her mind was starting to over analyze, it was fixated on the ridiculous level of intimacy between them and it couldn't seem to get over the fact that Harry was watching her.
Watching me for what? She wondered as her embarrassment continued to grow. She was beginning to doubt this, beginning to think that maybe this was a terrible idea and the whole experience would be awful. She was about to close her eyes or cover her face with her hands when Harry twisted his finger up toward her stomach and stroked against a rough patch of nerves bundled inside her that she didn't even know existed and her breath caught. He stroked it again and her eyes rolled back as a small moan left her lips. Her hips reflexively thrust against his finger and her eyes fluttered as Harry grinned widely above her.
"There it is," he said quietly, his voice deep and husky. She didn't have a moment to question what he meant. He stroked her there again while his thumb continued to circle and her eyes rolled back once more and fluttered shut.
She felt her legs fall open wider and she moaned out as Harry continued to move his fingers against her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge as the coil tightened and her breathing quickened. She could feel his hard length pressed firmly against her thigh and she felt him grinding it into her as his fingers shifted between her legs.
"Harry," she panted, as she pushed her hips up to meet the now two fingers he had slid inside her. "Harry – pl – please."
Her voice stuttered as she spoke. Her heart was pouding, she was wet, wanting, desperate for his touch and she did not give a flying fuck how she looked right now. She didn't care how she sounded, or whether or not they were being proper. She just knew that she wanted more. She needed more.
"I won't last long," Harry said as he began to gently spread the two fingers that he was still moving inside her. "I can make you come first. It might hurt when we do it, and I won't – I won't last long."
"No," she gasped out as he circled his thumb over her clit once more. "Harry – please, I want you – I want you inside me, I want to feel you – please, Harry."
Harry nodded against her neck and she felt his hand fall away from her core as he reached down to his own member. She blushed deeply when she realized that he had stroked himself with her own wetness to add some lubrication. She could feel the heat in her body growing as she watched him pump his length before he moved directly between her legs and paused above her. She looked into his eyes and could see the nervous excitement that they held – she imagined that they looked similar to her own and they smiled nervously at each other before Harry spoke.
"Are you ready?" he asked her in a quiet deep rumble.
"Yes," she breathed as she spread her legs a bit wider for him.
"If it hurts too much tell me to stop, Hermione – promise?"
"I promise."
She didn't look away from his eyes as she felt the tip press up against her slick folds.
Her stomach turned in nervousness, her heart was once again racing, and she found that she had to remind herself to breathe. He was looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world when he slowly – oh so slowly, pushed into her. Her breath caught in her chest, her eyes widened as she felt herself stretching to accommodate him, and she found herself gripping his shoulder tightly as her nails dug into his skin.
It didn't hurt per se, not exactly.
No, she thought. That wouldn't be the right word. It's 'tight' and it 'pinches' and it's borderline uncomfortable – but it doesn't hurt.
She breathed out sharply when he pushed himself in to his entirety, she felt so full and eyes fluttered shut as he bottomed out and his head tilted back to the ceiling as he groaned out in the deepest most animalistic sound of pleasure that she had ever heard. He paused for a moment, his body tense as he remained unmoving inside her before his eyes snapped open and he looked down at her through a haze of lust.
"Fuck, Hermione," he groaned as he dropped his forehead to rest on hers. "Fuck you feel so good. God I had no idea – are you okay?"
His voice sounded a bit tense and Hermione could tell by his death grip on the sheets by her head and the way that he held her side tightly that he was struggling to control himself.
"Yes," she nodded in confirmation, laying completely still as she looked up at him. She wanted to feel him move, she wanted to see how this went but she was too nervous to do anything on her own. "Yes – you can move, Harry. It's okay – keep going."
His jaw clenched tightly in control as he slowly moved himself back out and then pushed in once more. He groaned as he shifted, and Hermione winced slightly at the tightness.
Still not painful, she thought, though it certainly wasn't the greatest feeling that she had ever experienced.
After two more slow thrusts, he dropped his weight to his side so he could move his hand between them to stroke her with his fingers. She groaned as he changed his angle and his slow thrusts started to align with that bundle of nerves he had located earlier. It took a moment for him to find a rhythm and although the movements were still uneven, she found herself moaning against him as he muttered praise against her neck.
But the feel of him was still uncomfortable, so she forced her mind to focus on the gentle and delicious movements of his fingers instead of the pinching, tight feeling of him moving inside her. The longer it went on, the more she found it wasn't so bad. Actually, it was even a bit enjoyable – if the pinching tightness from her core were to eventually go away, she would be able to come undone like this and she began to understand why people thought sex was so bloody fantastic.
Because the full feeling of having him inside her was unlike anything else.
After several more slow thrusts Harry's breath hitched and he quickened his pace before he came undone. His hands fisted the sheets tightly by her head, his dishevelled hair fell in his face as he gasped out her name along with a collection of expletives in groans. His head tilted back toward the ceiling of the tent as he came and his expression looked almost pained.
His whole body had tensed in his final quick thrusts and his hand on her clit fell away to brace himself tightly on her hip. Hermione watched him in awe, wondering if this was what she looked like when she came because the only word that crossed her mind as she looked up at him was beautiful. The heat at her center continued to burn as she felt him fill her up as he came inside her. When he finally stilled he dropped his head down to rest his forehead against hers as he panted, eyes still shut tightly. She watched him come down from his high, gripping his shoulders tight as his breathing started to slow and his pinched expression relaxed into what could only be defined as pure bliss.
"Sorry," Harry murmured, his breath uneven and ragged. "I – I couldn't stop myself from coming. Did – I – did I hurt you?"
"No," she breathed against him before he gave her a slow and passionate kiss.
He dropped to his side and brought his hand back to her center and he traced his fingers over her in slow circles as he kissed her lazily in contentment.
"Harry," she said between their kisses. "You don't have to – it's okay."
"I know," he murmured as he grinned against her neck and he nipped her skin gently. "But I want to".
Hermione shivered under him as he began to stroke her in the way that he knew would make her come. He was still hard inside her, and she found that the tight feel of him there was only making the way that he was touching her feel even better. She writhed against his fingers and allowed the moans of pleasure to pour past her lips.
She clung to him tightly as he quickened his hand and brought her to orgasm. Without even realizing it she found that she was thrusting herself on Harry's slowly softening member as she came and her body grew limp with exhaustion as she came down from her high. Harry was laying next to her and at some point, his cock had slipped from her channel. She rolled on to her side to face him as she tried to catch her breath, bringing her hand up to stroke the damp hair away from Harry's eyes. She knew that her own curls were a wretched disaster at this point and they would be a lost cause until they were washed again.
They laid there quietly for several minutes, but she found that the silence wasn't uncomfortable. Harry was running his hand up and down her upper arm while they looked at each other. She never would have thought that she could stare into someone else's eyes for such a long time without it being awkward – but this wasn't.
It felt surreal, and intimate and… perfect, her brain supplied. She could see everything in his eyes. His hope, his wants, his dreams. The way that he looked at her she could tell that he felt the same way as she did. He would do anything for her because he cared for her, he needed her, he – her brain stopped and her heart fluttered.
He loved her.
She could see it. It almost poured from his eyes. She swallowed hard, too nervous to think too long on that last one, but she could feel her heart bursting at the seams as she looked at him. Maybe it was her post-orgasm high, or the fact it was because she was laying next to Harry naked, but she could not stop the string of words as they floated to her mind.
I love him.
She knew that she did. She had for years, but back then it had been different. She loved him because he was her best friend, he was the person she could count on most and they were a team.
Though, that hasn't changed, has it? she thought as she traced the contours of his face with her thumb. He's still my best friend, he's still the only person I can count on and we are still a team.
She still loved him like that... but now the words tugged deeper at her heart and they seemed to take on a whole new meaning. She could feel it deep down to the core of her being and she instinctively knew that it would never change. It couldn't. They'd been through too much together, he was the only person who knew her and in some ways – this had been inevitable. She was surprised when her mouth opened and seemed to move on its own accord.
"Harry I –" she paused as her voice caught in her throat. "You know that I–"
Harry laid there, his eyes unmoving from her face as he waited for her to finish. Hermione clenched her hands determinedly in the sheets, and her heart tightened in her chest as her eyes searched his face. She had decided not to waste the time that they knew they had with waiting for sex – and this should be no different. She wanted to make sure that she was able to tell him, so she forced herself to be brave one final time that night.
"I love you, Harry," she whispered, and she felt her heart stutter with nervousness in her chest.
Harry's hand stopped stroking her upper arm and for a second Hermione thought that she might be physically ill by his lack of response – then he pulled her tightly to his chest.
"I love you, Hermione," he said gently in her ear as he held her close.
She felt her heart thud hard at his words and she buried her head against his chest as a smile broke out across her face. She could feel her eyes prickling with tears as her chest began to tighten.
She knew that this was probably an immature and childish declaration of love compared to what Molly and Arthur, or Tonks and Remus shared – but she didn't care. They had been through so much, they had fought and stood by each other for years and she knew that she cared for him. Perhaps her love was young and immature, and perhaps it wouldn't compare to that of others – but it didn't make it any less real, and she needed Harry to know that he was loved.
That she loved him.
That she would continue to love him. She gripped him tightly as she laid in his arms, face pressed firmly to his chest, listening to his breathing. They laid in each other's arms for several minutes, content, calm and relaxed with Harry squeezing her close until he abruptly pushed her back from him and met her gaze with anxious concern. She stared at him in confusion, wondering why he looked so tense and why he seemed slightly uncomfortable.
"Hermione – I – I didn't, did you," his words were flustered and stuttered, and a deep blush spread across his cheeks. "We didn't use any contraceptives."
"Oh," Hermione let out a small laugh as a blush flooded her face and her confusion floated away. "Harry's it's okay – I should have said something earlier, I didn't even think to mention it – I'm already on one. I took one during the summer."
"Oh thank god," Harry sighed in relief as he let out a deep breath. Then his brows furrowed in confusion. "Wait, not that I'm complaining – but why did you take a contraceptive potion?"
Hermione blushed deeply at his words and looked down at his chest before she responded.
"Mrs. Weasley," she said with an embarrassed sort of shrug. "She made Ginny and I take one this summer before the wedding – she'd brewed a batch for all the girls – she even tried to get Fleur to take it in hopes that it might delay Bill and her from having a kid 'too soon after just getting married'. But when Fleur found out that it would last for a year she refused."
"It lasts for a year?" Harry asked somewhat incredulously.
"Yes," Hermione laughed now as she realized that Harry didn't know anything about it. "It's the same one that Madam Pomfrey encourages all the girls to take at school starting in 6th year. Obviously, the teachers don't condone sex while at school, but they're not stupid and they know that it happens. So, to try and prevent teenage pregnancy, at the start of the semester each year Madam Pomfrey hands out contraception potions that last for the year. I took one in 6th year because it also helps with… other things – so when Mrs. Weasley pushed for us to take one during the summer I thought that it was a good idea since I wasn't sure what was going to happen or if we'd be going back to Hogwarts. Otherwise I would have taken one of the ones that Madam Pomfrey handed out again."
Harry nodded in understanding, not asking what Hermione meant by other things. She was grateful for that, as it saved her the conversation of how contraception potion helped regulate your period and hormones during your cycle. Not that she wasn't comfortable talking to Harry about those things – just that right now she wanted to enjoy being close to him.
"Well, it's a good thing that you're on the ball," Harry muttered as he pulled her back into him and held her tight. "I didn't even think about it until after."
Hermione laughed against his chest as they laid there a little while longer. After a while they both started to get cold, and Harry slowly untangled himself from her arms to pull on his jeans before heading to the bathroom. Hermione threw on her shirt and panties then used the bathroom once Harry was finished. She was surprised to find that her legs moved stiffly, and Harry asked her twice if she was sure she was okay as she passed him on her way to the bathroom.
She'd kissed him gently and reassured him that she was fine – and she was. She was stiff, yes, and she felt stretched and perhaps a bit sore – but she wasn't hurt, and she definitely did not regret her decision. She imagined that the more you had sex the better it felt, and she couldn't quite stop the blush and grin that spread across her face at the thought of being with Harry again.
He decided to take the first watch that night, and Hermione decided to sleep in his bunk after she quickly changed his sheets. She grinned as Harry dropped an extra blanket over her and kissed her slowly and deeply, stroking the side of her face gently before he pulled away.
"Wake me up if anything happens, okay?" Hermione called to him as he went to leave the tent.
"You know I will," he called back with a small smile.
Hermione rolled to her side to watch the entrance of the tent before she fell asleep and she could not seem to stop smiling. She couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened – that Harry and her were together, that she had fully reclaimed her confidence in her body after the brutal attack, and that she was no longer going to allow the war to dictate her life.
Hermione Granger is no longer a virgin, she thought as she closed her eyes and let out a contented sigh. It had never been an issue for her and it wasn't something that she had been anxious to lose or anxious to change. It had never really even been a thought in her mind – but she was happy that it happened, because she was happy with how it had happened and who it had been with.
It was with Harry – her best friend and the person that she cared about more than anything in the world. She loved him, she would always love him and being with him was the most intimate and special thing she'd ever felt. She wouldn't have wanted to experience that with anyone else. No, the sex itself hadn't been perfect and she could feel a dull pain between her legs. But the moment was perfect, and she felt more alive than she had in months.
And she is no longer going to bow to her fears or let the war control her, she thought as a small smile tugged at her lips. She nuzzled her face into Harry's pillow as comfort eased through her bones. It smelled of him, and the last thought she had before falling asleep was how perfect this Christmas had been.