March 2002
Hermione was sitting in her office, trying not to cry. She'd just received word from an interoffice memo, of all things, that her law had been rejected. She'd exhausted all the appeals processes and there were no more paths to getting it approved. Boyle said her only course of action now was to take all the pieces of her legislation and separate them, then tag them onto other laws her department was working on getting passed. But that would take years and there was no guarantee it would work.
Her eyes flooded with tears and she tried to focus on the book she was reading to take her mind off it, but it wasn't working. All those hours - wasted. In the past week alone, she'd spent every waking moment pouring over old legislation, reviewing all the news stories in the past twenty years involving a magical creature, and even reading minutes from recent meetings with the Elders so she could try to understand each member better.
But none of it had worked because the Elders were just a group of bigoted old wizards and until they started getting replaced by more progressive-minded people, all of Hermione's laws would probably meet this same fate. She shoved her palms into her eyes and stifled a yawn. She was depressed, knackered, and hungry, too. She'd been too nervous about the Elders' verdict to eat today and hadn't slept properly in days.
She checked the clock on the wall. 5:15pm. Where was Harry? He knew she'd be hearing from the Elders this afternoon and had agreed to meet her after work. She really needed a hug from him right now. She picked herself up and slowly made her way across the floor to the Auror Offices. They were mostly empty and Harry wasn't at his desk.
Hermione walked over to the assistant's desk. "Hey, Connor."
She didn't even need to ask after Harry. Connor had guessed why she was there. "Hey, Hermione. He's on a stakeout with Dawlish."
"Oh. He didn't say."
"It was last minute. It's all hands on deck to find Vanderwaal while he's still in England."
Hermione nodded knowingly. "I guess I can't get a message to him, can I?"
Conner shook his head. "Sorry, Hermione. You know the rules. No Patronuses when they're on a stake-out."
"Yeah," she sighed. She knew it was too dangerous to contact him now since it could give away his position. That's why the Aurors set up regular times to check in with the office anytime they were out on a stake-out. That was part of Connor's job, intercepting their messages and getting them to the right people. "When's their next check-in?" Hermione asked.
Connor looked down at the small notebook on his desk. "Six."
"Okay. Thanks. Uh - are you manning the phone tonight, too?"
"Yeah." He guessed what she was thinking again. "Go ahead and call after six - I'll give you an update - even though, for the record-" he lowered his voice and cocked his head toward Robards's office, "- it's not per protocol."
She smiled. "Thanks, Connor."
Hermione returned to her office and packed her bag, then very slowly made her way home, deciding to walk to kill more time. She really wanted Harry right now but he was probably hiding somewhere under his invisibility cloak, watching an abandoned house as he waited for Vanderwaal to appear.
Or, more likely, he was chatting with Dawlish about random things, like Hermione's hair-washing schedule. But what if Vanderwaal did show up? What if Harry was hurt? Hermione's chest clenched painfully. She had to stop on the pavement and lean against a building. A few Muggles noticed and checked to see if she was okay, but she reassured them she was fine and sent them away.
Calm down, she told herself. Harry is fine. You're just inventing drama. Go home, make some tea, read a book and before you know it, he'll be there, ready to wrap his arms around you and tell you everything will be okay.
She was just tired and hungry and upset about her law. She needed to relax and get home. She took several breaths and continued on. As soon as she found an abandoned alley, she stepped into a dark corner and Apparated home.
At 6:05pm, she called Connor on her mobile phone. "Connor. It's Hermione. Just checking in on Harry."
"Oh. Right," he sounded disappointed. "They haven't called in yet."
Hermione's heart skipped a beat.
"But this happens, Hermione," Connor continued in a rush. "Sometimes they're a few minutes late for the check-in. Call me back in ten minutes. Okay?"
"Yeah," her voice cracked. "Uh, I'll talk to you soon."
Hermione picked up her knees and curled herself into a ball on the couch as she tried to take deep, even breaths and reassure herself that Harry was fine. Ten minutes later, she was in the same spot. When she unfolded her arms from around her legs, they were stiff, and she realized she'd been inadvertently tensing all her muscles.
She carefully dialed the number for the phone at the Auror Office and waited for Connor to answer. When she heard his greeting, she couldn't make herself speak.
"Hello?" Connor said again. "Is this Hermione?"
"Yeah," she managed to choke out.
"Still nothing, Hermione. But really - don't worry. Potter and Dawlish are one of our strongest teams. And in another five minutes, if they don't check-in, protocol states we need to send another pair out to look for them. I've already called them in and-"
"Okay, thanks," she said quickly before hanging up.
Harry was hurt. That was the only explanation. Maybe he was worse than hurt, maybe, he was…
"No!" Hermione shouted aloud.
Images from the night of the Final Battle began to flash through her mind. Hagrid carrying Harry out of the forest. Harry's glasses sitting lopsided on his face. Hermione screaming out his name in anguish. Voldemort pacing back and forth in front of Harry's dead body.
She tightened her grip on her knees and squeezed her eyes shut.
He's alive, Hermione. He's alive and safe and you're only remembering the past now. You need to calm down.
I don't know that! He was chasing the same dark wizard that hurt Ron and he didn't check-in. He could be hurt, or captured, or even dead.
Hermione knew she was spiraling. She knew she was about to have a panic attack and that she should send a Patronus, though it was probably too late for that. She could call someone on the phone. Ginny. Ginny could get a message to Ron. But Hermione didn't want Ron. She wanted Harry, but he was gone.
Harry arrived at Hermione's flat an hour later. He was annoyed he'd been assigned stake out duty, on today of all days, when Hermione was finding out about her law. He'd wanted to be there for her. Then, right at the end of his shift, they'd caught a man trying to break into the abandoned shop they'd been watching, so Harry's workday had extended even further.
He and Dawlish had spent the past hour getting the wizard to a secure location and questioning him, only to ultimately learn that he was just a common thief with no connection to Vanderwaal. Harry sighed as he pulled out his wand to begin undoing Hermione's wards. He stopped. There were no protective wards on her door.
"Alohomora." Nothing happened. She hadn't even locked her flat up the Muggle way. That wasn't like her.
Harry opened the door carefully and called for Hermione but there was no answer. The flat was dark. Where was she? Was she waiting for him at his house? No. That wouldn't explain why her door was unlocked.
He walked into the flat and saw a faint, silver glow emanating from the main room. He cast a Shield Charm on himself and approached carefully, swearing when he caught sight of the cause of the glow.
"Bloody hell," he muttered as he raced into the room. Hermione was lying on the sofa in a tight ball. The glow was coming from a sphere of magic that was surrounding her like a protective shield, crackling and sending out a jet of light every so often. As Harry approached, an off-shoot of magic went straight for him and he dodged but wasn't quick enough. It collided with his Shield Charm but was so powerful, he still felt it like a punch in the gut.
He bent over in pain. "Holy shit," he groaned. Thank Merlin he'd had a Shield Charm up. Hermione's magic in this state: raw, unbridled, and lashing out at full force, was a truly scary thing to behold.
Harry turned on the lights with a wave of his wand and studied her from a safe distance. He tried to disarm her but that didn't work. Then, he tried to Summon her wand but that didn't work either. None of his spells could get through the shield she'd cast around herself. He knew simply reaching in and trying to take her wand would likely result in him losing a hand.
This was so much worse than before. He reasoned it might be because last time, Ron had disarmed her fairly early. Maybe this was what happened if she was left alone for too long. How long had she been like this?
"Hermione!" he yelled over and over again until his voice was hoarse but could tell his shouts weren't reaching her.
He recalled a conversation they'd had a few weeks ago when he'd asked her how she worked through her panic attacks alone. She'd admitted that calling it "working through" them was a bit of a stretch. The few times she'd been forced to deal with them alone she'd simply expended so much magic that she passed out from exhaustion. When she woke up the panic had passed, but the exhaustion stayed with her for one or two days.
Harry didn't want to have to wait for that to happen. He teared up just thinking about what was going on in her head. She thought she was all alone, must be terrified, and was probably replaying some sort of horror from the war. He had to get to her.
He considered calling Ron to help and even created his Patronus but he waved the silver stag away before sending it to Ron. He couldn't call for Ron every time Hermione had a panic attack. He'd give himself five minutes. If he hadn't figured anything out by then, he'd send for Ron.
Think, Harry. You've defeated wizards more powerful than you before.
He wiped his face with his hand and was surprised to find tears there. His heart was pounding hard and he could feel adrenaline flowing through his veins. He was losing control. He tried again to calm his thoughts. He needed to get her attention without casting anything that would harm her. No spell was likely to make it through a Shield Charm this powerful anyway.
That gave him an idea. Spells wouldn't make it through a Shield Charm but elements would. His first thought was to douse her in water, but that seemed excessive. He'd do that only if he absolutely had to. He began drawing circles with his wand, creating a whirlwind which he sent through the barrier of magic. As expected, it passed through with no problem.
Her hair started whipping around her head and she pulled her knees tighter into her chest. Harry took a breath and made the air colder, adding a bit of snow in the hopes it would shock her out of her trance. Hermione shifted slightly, unfolding her legs and pulling her hands up to protect her head. As she did so, the Shield Charm visibly faded and Harry took the chance to reach his hand in and pull her wand out of her pocket.
He cried out in agony as her magic burned him, even through his own Shield Charm, but he managed to get her wand out, tossing it to the side once he'd pulled his hand back. At the sound of his cry, Hermione's eyes shot open. She looked scared and confused and sat up on the couch, then backed away from him.
"Hermione! It's me, Harry."
She shook her head and buried her face in her hands. "No, no, no. You're gone. You're dead. He killed you."
Harry sat next to her on the couch and carefully placed his arms on her shoulders. She was still zapping him with occasional bursts of magic but the pain was bearable without her wand. "I'm not dead. I'm right here. This is me, grabbing your shoulders. You feel that?"
She shook her head and tried to pull away from him. "This is a vision," she mumbled. "Just something I created to cope. It's not, it's not, no."
Harry grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest. "That's my heartbeat. Do you feel that? I'm not a vision. I'm here. You're safe, I'm safe, and I'm here."
Hermione looked at her hand in disbelief, then up at Harry. "You're real," she whispered.
He nodded.
She lunged for him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as she finally dropped the magical shield around her. Harry scooped her up into his lap and laid back against the sofa, letting out a sigh of relief. Thank Merlin. She was back. That had been terrifying. He took deep breaths, one right after the other, as she cried into his chest.
"You were gone," she said through her tears. "You didn't check in and it was just like before. Vanderwaal killed you just like Voldemort did and you were on the ground, not moving, and-"
"Shhh." Harry rubbed her back and pulled her closer. "Just relax. It was a bad memory. It wasn't real."
Hermione nodded and Harry started running his fingers through her curls, trying to blink back his own tears. Holy shit. It was him she'd been worried about. All because he was late getting home and had missed a check-in. Fucking hell. He was an Auror. This wasn't going to be the first time something like this happened and he couldn't send her into a panic attack every time it seemed like he might be in danger.
As Hermione tried to calm herself, Harry tried to do the same. That had been intense. He knew he'd never had a panic attack like that. But it made sense, in a way, that Hermione's would be worse. She was the type of person who threw all her mental and emotional energy into whatever she did. So it followed that she'd do the same in a panic attack.
Hermione laid there with her head on Harry's chest for what felt like hours, listening to his heart beat. It was fast at first, almost as fast as hers felt, but had slowed to a steady thump, thump, thump.
Harry gently pushed her up so he could take off his outer robes but she clutched him hard, digging her fingernails painfully into his shoulders. "No! I need to - I need to feel your heartbeat. My thoughts are still all muddled and I - I -"
"Sorry," he said quickly. "I was just going to take my robes off. I'm getting too hot, which I know is a sensation you've never experienced."
Harry grabbed her hand and put it on his heart, then tried to push her up again. She nodded and lifted up, keeping her hand in place while he peeled off his outer robes and tossed them to the side. When he was finished, he pulled her back down against his chest. "Okay. Better," he whispered into her hair.
When she was lying back down, Hermione nodded and started crying anew. She was so pathetic. "I'm so sorry," she breathed.
Harry kissed the side of her head. "Don't apologize."
"But - but this is ridiculous. You're an Auror. How is this supposed to work? I can't lose my head every time you miss a check-in. I'm sure this isn't the first time this has happened and I know it won't be the last. My mind immediately brought me back to the war and I was completely convinced you were gone, but that's insane, that's- that's- I think it's because I was exhausted and stressed and hungry and upset about my law-"
Harry could feel her magic starting to build up again. "Shh. Please, Hermione. We'll talk about this later, I promise, and we'll figure something out. But right now you need to calm down. Okay? Just breathe and try to clear your mind as best you can."
He felt her take several breaths, shuttering as she exhaled. He reached for something to say - desperate for anything that would take her mind off her current worries. "I have a story about Teddy," he said. "Do you want to hear it?"
She nodded.
"Okay. So, a few weeks ago, I didn't sleep well one night, I don't remember why. I had Teddy the next day and wanted to take a quick nap. I set him up with the television and told him I'd be in my room and to come get me if anything happened."
Hermione hummed and he could feel her breathing was slowing. That was good. He took a deep breath and talked slowly to extend the story.
"I'm not a great napper even when I'm really tired. I find it hard to fall asleep in the middle of the day. But after what felt like ages, I did finally manage to get to sleep but was awoken abruptly by Teddy calling my name. He had his face inches from mine and luckily I didn't hit him with any spells because it was a rather terrifying way to wake up."
He felt Hermione chuckle slightly and smiled to himself. Good. This seemed to be working.
"So, I sat up in bed and asked, 'What is it, Teddy?' He said, 'There's a bird.' I was worried he meant there was a bird in the house but couldn't imagine how that was possible, since it was far too cold for me to have left any windows open. I asked, 'Where is it?' He said it was outside and I asked if the bird was okay or if it needed any help. Teddy said simply. 'No. He's outside sitting in the tree. You said to tell you if anything happened.'"
Hermione laughed softly. "That kid…"
Harry kissed the top of her head. "Yeah. Anyway, I gave up on the nap and just downed a few cups of coffee."
Hermione let out another small laugh.
"It was a pretty lame story," Harry admitted. "Sorry about that."
"I liked it."
They were quiet for a while longer and when Hermione's tears finally stopped falling, she shifted up so she could see Harry. "Hi."
He smiled and pushed a few curls behind her ear. "Hi."
"I think the worst has passed."
Harry nodded. "You said you were hungry before. Do you want to eat?"
She shook her head. "I'll probably throw it up. I'll just have a big breakfast tomorrow."
"Okay. Are you ready to sleep?" His eyes flashed to the clock on the wall. 9:15pm. Early, but not an unreasonable time to turn in, especially given how exhausted she must be from that insane force field she'd created around herself.
"Yeah," she replied.
He carried her into her bedroom and this time set her on the correct side of the bed which, coincidentally, was the same side he slept on. After lying her down and tucking her in, Harry straightened and took a step back from the bed. She turned on her side to face him and fixed him with large, pleading eyes as she whispered, "Will you stay?"
Harry crossed his arms and sighed with mock irritation. "Was this panic attack something you contrived to get me to spend the night?"
She let out a small laugh. "Yeah."
"Well, it worked. Very Slytherin of you, by the way. I'm just going to go lock up. I'll be right back."
Harry went to apply the wards she'd missed earlier, hung up both their outer robes, and kicked his shoes off by the door. His stomach grumbled but he ignored it. He'd just wait for that big breakfast tomorrow. He grabbed her wand which had rolled under the chair and placed it on her bedside table when he got back to the room. She'd removed her clothes and was sitting up in the bed in her knickers and a tank top.
Harry began to take off his own clothes but the hand she'd burned earlier was useless in removing the buttons on his shirt. He tried to turn away before she noticed but wasn't quick enough.
"Did I do that?" she gasped.
"It's fine."
"No, it's not!" She threw off the covers and disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a jar of dittany. "Sit," she ordered.
Harry knew it was futile to try and protest. He took a seat and let out a small sigh of relief when she rubbed the paste onto his hand. He felt a few tears fall onto his palm and saw she was crying.
"Don't cry. Really. I'm okay."
"I hate this. I hate that I hurt you. I hate that I completely lost control. I hate that this is still going on and that I don't know how to stop it."
Harry took the jar of dittany out of her hand and placed it on the table before pulling her into a hug. "I happen to know exactly how you feel," he said into her hair.
"Yeah. I suppose you do."
He leaned back and kissed her cheek, then stood up and stripped down to his boxers before climbing into bed with her. They turned to face each other and Harry could tell she was still upset, so he tried to cheer her up.
"The last time we were in this position I could barely work up the nerve to take off my shirt. Now look at me. Progress."
She gave him a small smile and he grabbed her hand with both of his. "My hand's fine. See? Please, stop beating yourself up."
He decided not to tell her about the punch in the gut that still felt sore. He hadn't had a chance to check for a bruise but would do so in the morning and maybe apply dittany while she was distracted.
"Why were you so reluctant to take your clothes off last time?" she asked. "You said you didn't realize your feelings for me until the next day."
"I wasn't aware I was in love with you but I was having inappropriate thoughts about you," he explained. "I'd convinced myself it was normal to lust after your best friend and that I was just lonely, but I was clearly just an idiot in denial."
She smiled. "Ahh, I see. So now the inappropriate thoughts are gone since you've experienced the real thing?"
"No," he admitted. "I have all the same thoughts, with even more clarity now, actually." He paused to wink. "But now that we're dating, I'd classify them as appropriate."
She laughed but soon they were silent again. After a few minutes, tears began to slowly fall down her face.
"Come here," Harry said.
Hermione shifted close to him and dropped her forehead against his chest. He rubbed her back and whispered, "Just try to sleep, Love. Can you do that?"
She nodded and took several breaths. She didn't want to dissolve into sobs again but could feel them threatening to take over. "I can't lose you, Harry-bear," she whispered.
Harry started laughing fully and Hermione couldn't help but join in. "That one was pretty awful, wasn't it?" she asked.
Harry nodded, still laughing. "It just made me think of a hairy bear."
She dropped her face in her hands as she started laughing even harder. "Why can't I stop laughing? It's not even that funny."
"There's a fine line between hysterical crying and hysterical laughter. Come back here, Hermit crab." He reached his arms out to her.
She resumed her position and laughed for a little while longer while he stroked her back. When she finally calmed down, she looked up at him. "Hermit crab. I actually don't hate that one. Much better than 'hairy bear.'"
He nodded and kissed her. She bent her head back down and focused on the feeling of his breath on the top of her head, his familiar scent, and his heart beating slowly against her forehead. Soon she was calm and struggling to keep her eyes open. Just before she finally lost consciousness, she worked up the courage to ask, "Are we really going to be able to fix this?"
"Absolutely," he replied, but she was already asleep. And if not, he added in his mind, I'll quit. No job is worth putting you through that again.
"Sorry," Harry apologized as he climbed into the booth next to Ron. "I had to pick something up from Parbridge Street."
"Parbridge Street?" Ron asked. "I thought only rich Purebloods shopped there. Isn't it just jewelry shops and boutiques and fancy restaurants? What did you need there?"
Harry dropped his eyes to the table while Neville slid over the beer he and Ron had ordered for him.
"Oh, um, er-" Harry fumbled. "It's personal," he ended quickly, taking a sip of his beer.
Neville and Ron exchanged confused glances but left the matter alone.
"What did I miss?" Harry asked, eager to change the subject.
"Ron is wondering if he should ask Agatha out," Neville told Harry.
"Oh. Sure. Why not?" Harry asked.
Ron shrugged. "I don't know if she likes me like that. I mean, she's nice to me, really nice, but she's sort of like that with everyone, isn't she?"
"Ginny thinks she likes you," Harry told him. "So does Hermione."
"Really?" Ron straightened in his seat. "Well, that's good. They're so much better at this sort of thing than we are."
Harry nodded in agreement.
"What do you think?" Ron pressed. "What should I do?"
Harry hummed. "I'd befriend her, wait ten years, then get so close that everyone around you thinks you're already dating. After that, deny it for several months until you finally crack and kiss her."
"You forgot hiding it from your best friend," Ron snapped.
Harry could tell he was just joking and kicked him under the table. "I was getting there."
Ron shook his head. "I don't like that plan. What else do you have?"
"You could save her from a basilisk. That's worked for me in the past too."
Ron rolled his eyes and turned to Neville. "This bloke is useless. Please, tell me you have better advice."
"I say do it," Neville said eagerly. "Best case scenario, she says yes, you hit it off, and you finally have a sensible girlfriend again. Worst case, she says no, but at least we know she'll be nice about it."
"That's still a bad outcome," Ron groaned, "especially since she'll probably keep hanging out with us."
Harry and Neville just nodded and took another swig of their beers. They were both thinking of how relieved they were to be in solid relationships and past this phase.
"What do I do for a first date?" Ron asked next. "Lucy was easy. All I had to do was take her to dinner somewhere where we'd be seen," he said bitterly. "Agatha's more complicated than that."
"It's been a long time since I've been in that phase of a relationship," Neville admitted. Ron nodded and they both turned to look at Harry.
"What?" Harry asked when he noticed them staring at him.
"You've been dating Hermione for what, three months? You're still in that beginning phase," Neville pointed out.
"Oh. Er, yeah. But we don't go on dates or anything."
"What?" Neville looked shocked and leaned back in the booth. "You haven't taken her on a date? Like - ever?"
Ron winced and said to Neville under his breath, "Even I was a better boyfriend than that."
"But we were hiding it at first," Harry said defensively. "Then - I don't know. Fuck. This is bad, isn't it?"
Neville leaned forward and whispered to Ron across the table. "Only the boy who lived…"
"Twice," Ron added.
"Killing the snake doesn't earn you that sort of leeway."
"Neither does destroying one of the horcruxes," Ron grumbled.
"At least you got on a chocolate frog card," Neville countered.
"Hey! Wait," Harry interrupted them. "How bad is this?"
Both Ron and Neville were quiet.
"I don't even pay for lunch!" Harry cried. "It never occurred to me to take her out and she never said anything. Dammit! There's seriously something wrong with me."
"Do you need to read that book again?" Ron asked. "The one that tells you how to charm witches? I think I still have a copy at my flat."
Harry couldn't believe he'd treated Hermione so poorly. She was already insecure and then he'd gone and taken her for granted, just like Ron had done – and look where those two had ended up. He should be showering her with gifts and taking her out every night. He picked up his pint of beer but promptly put it back down. He suddenly felt sick.
Neville nudged his foot under the table to get his attention. "Harry. We're just messing with you. Hermione is like - seriously in love with you. It's not too late to take her out. Just ask her the next time you see her."
Harry nodded absently. "Yeah. Okay."
They were quiet again and a few minutes later Ron noticed Harry looking at him strangely. "What?" Ron asked.
"It just occurred to me that I can't ask you for advice on where to take Hermione on a date. It's too weird."
"Yes," Ron agreed, draining his beer. "Definitely too weird. Now, can we circle back to my problem?"
Harry shrugged. "Sure. Continue agonizing over Agatha, who you haven't screwed anything up with, while I sit over here and lament over how incredibly thick I am."
"Sure thing. By the way, they should rewrite your chocolate frog card. 'Harry Potter: The boy who lived twice, youngest ever recipient of an Order of Merlin, First Class, Savior of the Wizarding World, and Master of Death.' But if you squint really hard you'll see in the fine print, 'Dreadful with witches.'"
Neville burst into laughter and Harry scowled. "You're enjoying this too much."
Ron smirked. "Perhaps."
When Harry's scowl turned into a devastated expression Ron sighed. It was clear this was really bothering Harry and it wasn't fun teasing him anymore. It felt sort of like kicking a Pygmy Puff. Ron nudged Harry in the side.
"Harry, you're fine. If Hermione had a real problem with it, you'd have heard about it by now. Take her somewhere nice, make it as sentimental as possible, and all will be forgiven. Really. You're not going to lose her over something as small as this. I promise."
"Yeah?"
"Yes," Ron said imploringly.
Harry nodded. "Okay. Yeah. Thanks. Sorry, we can talk about Agatha now. Where were you thinking of taking her?"
Harry smiled as soon as he woke up and saw Hermione in the bed next to him. She was lying on her back with one hand up, just inches away from his face, and her other hand resting on his arm, which was draped over her stomach.
He spent a few moments focusing on the rise and fall of her breathing under his arm, then he moved his eyes up and studied her face. She was beautiful like this with her hair spread around her head in a messy halo and her face completely calm and devoid of worry lines. Every so often, her lips turned up slightly. Harry wished he'd learned Legilimency so he could jump into her mind and see what she was dreaming about.
He had to restrain himself from pulling her into his arms or leaning over and kissing her since he didn't want to wake her up. It was such a luxury getting to wake up next to her. He still wasn't used to it and wondered if he'd ever get to the point where he took it for granted. He hoped not.
Since her panic attack two weeks ago, when Harry had spent the night without any problem, he'd decided it was time to try and sleep over more often. He stayed at her flat two nights a week and she stayed at Grimmauld Place two nights a week, which was where they were now.
A few nights ago, he'd had his first nightmare while sleeping over at her flat but it had been a non-event. He'd woken up without rousing her, calmed himself down in the bathroom, then slipped back into bed fifteen minutes later.
Only then had she awoken and he'd just pulled her tight against his chest and quickly fallen back asleep. He'd been so worried for nothing.
Harry felt her squeeze his hand and looked over to find her turning her head to smile at him. "Watching people sleep is creepy," she whispered.
"I wanted to look at you and I thought it would be rude to wake you up and do so," he explained, "so I went with the creepy option."
She smiled again and he tightened his grip on her waist and pulled her back against his chest. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and breathed in her scent. He loved how she smelled. Not the smell of her shampoo (which he also loved) but this pleasant, sweet smell that was just Hermione. He also loved how it lingered on his sheets for a day or so after she'd gone.
Harry started kissing her neck and Hermione sighed as she enjoyed this divine sensation. She was completely enveloped by him and each of his kisses felt more intense for some reason. She guessed it was because her body and mind were still waking up and had little else to focus on other than the feeling of Harry. She leaned back into him and felt that he was hard. She smiled and wiggled her bum into him.
"Why, hello," she murmured.
Harry took a break from kissing her to let out a laugh. "I'd introduce you," he said in her ear, "but I believe you two are already acquainted."
She turned her head and said over her shoulder, "I wouldn't mind being a little better acquainted." Then she reached back and grabbed him through his boxers.
Harry's heart started beating faster. Damn, she was hot. He reached into her knickers and started rubbing her. She bucked her hips and wiggled away. "Sensitive?" he asked.
She nodded and replied, "Also ready whenever you are."
"Yeah, I noticed that." He lifted her shirt up and over her head. Then, began pulling down her shorts and knickers. "What were you dreaming about, Hermione?"
"You, obviously."
Harry peeled off his own boxers next and settled back behind her. Hermione arched her back and helped guide him as he slowly sheathed himself inside of her.
Harry normally liked being able to see Hermione during sex, but he didn't hate this position. He had easy access to rub her clit and caress her breasts. And he could pepper kisses along her neck and shoulders while breathing in her intoxicating scent.
Well, this is positively lovely, Hermione thought to herself. There was something about the way her mind and body were still hovering in that spot between sleeping and wakefulness that made this whole thing feel like a dream. Or...no...dream wasn't strong enough of a word. She felt like she was living out the happiest fantasy her mind could create with the best person she'd ever known.
But this wasn't an illusion, it was real. Harry was real, these feelings, both the physical ones setting her body on fire and the deep ones filling her heart, were also real. Somewhere along the way, her most desperate hopes and dreams had become her reality.
She turned her head, suddenly desperate to kiss the person that was making her feel so unbelievably blissful. "Kiss me," she gasped. "Please."
Harry was more than happy to oblige. He covered her mouth with his and kissed her thoroughly, entwining their tongues together. Soon Hermione was moaning through their kiss as she found her release. Harry continued rubbing her until she shuddered and pushed him away, then she arched her back and moved her hips rhythmically while he thrust into her until he was groaning her name.
Harry locked his arms around her and pulled her even tighter against him as if worried she was going to try to break away. "That was an excellent way to wake up," he mumbled into her neck.
She reached back and began combing her fingers through his hair. "If we slept together more than four nights a week it could happen more often."
"You are a devious minx," Harry replied before gently biting her shoulder.
The action caused a delicious chill to run through Hermione's body. "I don't believe I've ever been called that," she breathed.
Harry lifted a hand and ran his fingers along her side, admiring the dip in her waist and the curve of her hips as he traced his hand along them. "Well, it's true," he declared.
Hermione grabbed his hand and linked their fingers together, then pulled it against her stomach. They laid there for several minutes, relishing the feel of each other, until Hermione announced she had to go to the loo and wanted to brush her teeth.
Harry groaned in protest as she detangled herself from him and disappeared into the bathroom. He protested even further when she reappeared wearing a pair of knickers and one of his shirts.
"Take those clothes off and come back to bed," he demanded.
"I thought you liked it when I wore your shirts."
Harry propped himself up on his elbow. "I do. It's incredibly sexy and as an added bonus, they smell like you after. But I like it better when you're naked."
"We need to leave for the Burrow in an hour."
"We do?" Harry turned to check the clock on the table. She was right. Damn, they must have slept in longer than he realized. Or the sex had lasted longer. He hadn't been keeping track.
"Whatever," he shrugged, "we still have an hour. Now, take those clothes off and get back here."
Hermione smirked and shook her head, but still started unbuttoning his shirt. Once she had the clothes off, she folded them neatly and placed them on the side table before climbing into the bed and resuming her spot in Harry's arms.
"You're very bossy," she announced after he'd wrapped his arms around her chest.
Harry nibbled her ear. "Says the bossiness expert."
She let out a laugh and hit his arm.
Harry sighed and whispered in her ear, "I have two things to tell you that I'm pretty nervous about."
"Start with the bad thing," she said quickly.
"I don't think either of them are bad. One is strange and potentially awkward and the other is embarrassing."
"Embarrassing for who?"
"Me," he replied.
"Okay…" Hermione said thoughtfully. "Go with the strange and awkward thing first."
"Strange and awkward it is," he declared as he released her and turned back to the bedside table behind him. He retrieved a small box from the drawer and sat up in the bed. "I got you something that might help with the panic attacks caused by you thinking I'm in danger."
"Oh." Hermione hadn't been expecting him to come up with a solution so quickly. She sat up in the bed and pulled the sheet up to cover her chest but Harry just pushed it back down with a smirk.
She rolled her eyes and motioned to the box in his hand. "What's in there?"
"You know the clock the Weasleys have? That one that tells you where everyone is?"
Hermione nodded.
"I figured we needed something like that so that as long as I wasn't in the Mortal Peril spot, you'd know I was okay."
Hermione looked down at the box, confused. "Are you telling me there's a clock in there? Or maybe a watch?"
"I thought of a clock first but reasoned that would only work if you happened to be in the same place as the clock. But it's possible something could happen at work or when you're out somewhere else. So then I thought of a watch but you already wear a watch and if you started wearing two all of a sudden, someone is bound to notice and it could be embarrassing to explain."
Hermione nodded.
"Then I thought of this." He put his thumb on the edge of the box and pushed it open an inch, then let it snap shut.
"I'm suddenly very nervous," he admitted.
"Just open it!"
Harry smiled at her impatience, which reminded him a bit of Teddy, and flipped the box open to reveal a beautiful, gold necklace with a large stone that reminded Hermione of an opal.
Hermione fingered the dainty gold chain. "A necklace?"
"It's linked to me," Harry explained. "If I'm in mortal peril the stone will turn red. And it will turn black if I, um, die."
Hermione's chest clenched and tears sprung into her eyes. She blinked them back quickly. Harry placed a comforting hand on her leg. "But if it stays white that means I'm just fine. So, I don't know, I thought it could help. If you're ever worried about me being hurt again you can just check the stone and know for sure that I'm okay."
She rubbed her fingers over the cold, white stone. "What do I do if it turns red?" she whispered.
Harry leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "In the very unlikely scenario that this turns red, you should call for Ron. He'll be able to check in with the Aurors to find out what's going on and he'll also be able to help you."
Hermione took a few slow breaths to calm her racing heart. She hated thinking of Harry being in danger, even if it was just hypothetical. "How does it work? This is blood magic, right?"
"Yeah."
She looked back down at the necklace. Now when she touched it, she focused hard and could feel the unmistakable presence of magic. "You had this custom made," she said, slightly awed that he'd managed to get something so fine and perfectly suited to their problem in such a short amount of time. "Where did you even get this?"
"A shop on Parbridge Street."
"Oh. How fancy."
Harry put the box down on the bed and placed his hands on her shoulders. "You don't have to wear this," he said seriously. "It's just an idea. I understand it's a bit strange and if you don't want to wear something linked to me I get that - but you did send me a good amount of eyelashes in the mail, so I figured you might be into this sort of thing," he added with a grin.
Hermione let out a laugh, then picked the necklace up out of the box and studied it. "I see why you described this as strange and potentially awkward now." She looked back up at Harry. "Is it weird that I sort of love it?"
"Yes. Very weird." Harry took it from her and opened the clasp. She picked her hair up and Harry leaned forward and put the necklace on her. He placed a kiss on her neck before leaning back to look at her. The necklace suited her and no one who saw it would know what it did.
"This is really thoughtful, Harry," she said as she admired the necklace. "Thank you. But if it ever turns red or, or, - "
"Shh." Harry pulled her into a hug. "It won't. I promise."
"Okay." Though she knew that was a promise he may not be able to keep. Especially in his line of work.
Harry leaned back and trailed his finger along the length of the chain, then said playfully, "Just so you know, I'll be teasing you mercilessly for essentially wearing my blood around your neck."
Hermione dropped her face into her hand. "I know, I'm so pathetic. You should have called this the embarrassing thing."
Harry lifted her head up by her chin and saw she was blushing. He rubbed her cheek with his thumb. "If you saw yourself in the middle of a panic attack, you would not use the word pathetic. Scary powerful is more like it."
She gave him a small smile.
"It's insane really," he continued, "though not surprising. You would be an overachiever, even in that."
Hermione sighed and shook her head. "Okay. Enough of that. I think now is a good time to transition to the thing that's embarrassing for you."
He rubbed her cheek again, which was still slightly flushed, then leaned back and let out a long sigh. "It was recently brought to my attention that I am an awful, thick, selfish boyfriend. And to make matters worse, it was Ron who pointed it out to me."
"Ron?"
"Well, him and Neville."
Hermione shook her head, confused. "What did they say?"
"They were shocked that I hadn't taken you out on a date yet. And they were right. I can't believe I missed that very crucial step in a new relationship. The whole first date part."
"Oh, that?" Hermione waved him away. "That's okay."
"No, it's not," he insisted. "I should have been treating you to evenings out, delicious food, even just a nice walk in the park every now and then, but I haven't done anything for you."
Hermione grabbed the necklace. "You just got me a very beautiful, thoughtful gift which I'm sure cost a fortune. You also pay for the groceries every time we go shopping."
Harry scoffed. "It's not enough."
She shook her head. "I don't mind, really. We see each other plenty, which is all I really want, and I just figured the next time there's some fundraiser we'd go together. Plus, I like hanging out with you alone. We can be naked." She motioned to their bodies and grinned.
Harry leaned in and kissed her. "Yes. I do love being naked with you. But sometimes it's nice to put on clothes and go outside. I want to show you off and make you feel special. So, forgive me for waiting so long to ask, but will you go on a date with me?"
Hermione kissed him on the cheek. "You do make me feel special. You tell me I'm beautiful every chance you get, you help me reign in the crazy parts of myself, you give me lovely gifts - like my scarf and now this necklace - and most of all, you let me into your heart, completely. I get to know you – the real you – and very few people get that privilege. That – that's more special than anything I can imagine."
Harry beamed back at her. "I love you and you just made me feels loads better. But - er - you never answered my question about the date."
She leaned in and kissed his other cheek. "I love you too. And yes, I'll go on a date with you."
"Brilliant. I still need to figure out what we're going to do, where we're going to do it, and when. But when I get that sorted out, you'll be the first to know."
Hermione laughed. "Okay." She shifted so she was straddling him and kissed him. He moved his hand behind her head and intensified their kiss.
Hermione reached down and gripped him, smiling when he started getting hard in her hand. Harry leaned back and cocked an eyebrow at her.
She turned to look at the clock on the table. "We have forty-five minutes until we need to leave."
Harry pushed the sheets off of them and said with a wink, "I only need ten."
"How romantic," she teased.
Harry cupped one of her breasts in his hand and flicked a thumb over her nipple. She bit her lip in response. "The romance, like the chivalry, comes and goes."
"Oh, does it? I believe I have yet to see the romance come," Hermione quipped.
Harry's face fell as he thought back to how he still hadn't taken her out. She leaned forward and kissed him as she continued to rub his cock. "I'm kidding, Harry," she purred. "Please, snap out of this self-deprecating mood. I'd like you to be confident; at least for the next forty minutes."
"You only need five minutes to get ready? That's fast. Even for you."
Hermione leaned back and lifted up her hips, positioning herself over him. She carefully lowered down and when she was sitting back on his lap with him filling her up, she moved her hands to his shoulders.
She slowly started moving her hips back and forth which felt incredible and made Harry's mind temporarily go blank. He almost didn't hear her when she said, "We can save time by showering together. Or - I don't know, maybe we'll just be late."
That's when Harry knew she really loved him - or maybe she just really loved having sex with him (he didn't care which it was at the moment) - because he'd never seen her late for anything in her entire life.