A/N: Okay sorry for the wait. I was err, indisposed. But to make up for it, I made this chapter, well, this story is now officialy rated R. Or, um, NC-17 but that's our little secret. Hope it doesn't seem too soon, but I never wrote something like this before and I wanted to give it a try. Now don't you people just skip all the rest and go read the smut first. Naughties.
"They're all asking about you."
"What about me?"
"About whether you've decided that I was worthy of worship." He says.
It's definitely got a cheeky feel to it.
"Must be a slow news day."
"You wound me."
He contacts me between his duties and before he goes to bed. It amounts to a
lot of tiny spurts of time, so we never have a chance to say much to one
another, but it's also kind of fun. Harry's head pops into our fireplace
several times a day, and I begin to wonder how he is finding the Floo Network
on the road.
"I saw a bunch of Buddhist monks today, they were walking, like in a
procession."
"Oh?"
"Hermione, do you think we all go to heaven?"
"What, everybody? Good people? Who?"
"Everybody who is decent, I guess. Everybody who gets up in the morning,
makes an honest living, treats their families right."
"What brought this about?"
"The Buddhist monks. They were just...there was something about
them."
"How so?"
"I don't know. So many beliefs out
there…what is right?"
"Do you know what you believe?"
"…Yes."
"Then that's your answer."
"Okay." He says, seemingly satisfied, at least for the time being.
"I love you. Things make sense with you."
"I wish you were here." I reply.
*
I "pop" in front
of our house in mid-afternoon. My bags
are quickly deserted on the stoop and I fumble with the doorknob.. Once the
door is open and I don't see her waiting there for me, my face falls.
"Hermione?"
No answer.
"Hermione!"
Silence greets me and I sigh resignedly and turn to retrieve my luggage.
"Leaving again so soon?"
I whirl around and see her standing at the top of the stairs, laughing at me.
"I thought you were out."
"And miss your arrival?"
I feel a goofy grin spreading across my face.
"So… I'm here."
She shakes her head, "That's not how it goes."
"No?"
"No. It's 'Hi honey, I'm home.'"
"Hi honey, I'm home."
I take the stairs at a run and reach her, more breathless from the sight of her
than from the run.
My hands cup her face and I tilt it up to mine.
"I missed you."
"Really?"
"So much." My lips settle on hers, lightly at first and then with more urgency
and she laughs and breaks the kiss.
"That much, huh?"
"More."
Our tongues get in on the action this time and she slides my jacket off my
shoulders and pulls it away from me.
I break this kiss and lean my forehead against hers.
"Okay, I should go get my stuff."
"It can wait."
She tugs on my hand and leads me into my bedroom.
"What?"
"Look around."
I do. All my clothes have been put away. There is nothing left on lying around.
The bed is made. It's cleaner than it has been since the day we moved in.
"You cleaned my room?"
"I told you I wasn't coming back in here until it was clean."
"And I didn't get on that?"
She shakes her head. "You kept coming to my room."
"Is that wrong?"
"No. But I figured it was time that I reciprocated."
I inhale.
She walks over to my dresser and picks up a piece of paper.
"The list?" I ask, puzzled.
She nods.
"They were all good reasons."
I don't answer.
"They're not anymore."
She comes back to me and slides her hands along my forearms.
"I'm glad you're here."
"Me too."
"I missed you too."
I raise an eyebrow.
"Really?"
She laughs, "So much."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," she whispers, her lips settling on mine determinedly. "Yes."
This time our kiss has purpose and understanding. There is desire and wonder
and determination in it. Her hands move up my arms and down along the buttons
of my shirt. Then they give way to her and her fingers move inside, hot,
burning my skin.
I'm amazed and more than a little perplexed by her sudden change of heart so I
resignedly break the kiss and pull away from her.
"You don't want to?" she asks.
"Of course I do. Of course. But I thought you wanted to wait until it was worth
waiting for."
"It is," she says simply. "You are."
"Oh."
She laughs."You're blushing."
"No, I'm not," I deny.
"You are!"
"I never thought I would be worth waiting for."
She smiles at me and her fingers work the buttons on her own shirt.
"No, let me?" I ask, reaching for her.
"You want to undress me?"
"Unveil you."
"Don't make me change my mind," she laughs.
"Love you."
She stops smiling.
"Hermione?"
"You really do?"
"I do."
"Why?"
I shake my head, "Because I don't have a choice. Because you're not the only
one who made a list."
She gives me a puzzled look.
"I had this idea in my head about my ideal woman," I tell her and this time, I
know I'm blushing. "And I tried to find her in all those other girls. But you
kept meeting every single one of my requirements and I finally realized that."
"And you love me?"
I smile, "And I love you."
She shakes her head slowly in amazement.
"And that list I made? You proved it wrong. So I love you."
I gaze at her, my breath caught in my throat.
"You didn't have to tell me to get me into bed," I say finally, teasing her.
"That was a given."
She laughs at me but there are tears in her eyes."Then why are you still
standing over there?"
I approach her and finish unbuttoning her shirt.
I look up into her eyes and she give me her consent. The silky fabric slides
down her arms and away from her even more lustrous skin. As I untangle the
fabric from her arms, she does the same with mine so that I'm now naked above
the waist.
My lips graze at her collarbone and my fingers work the clasp on her bra until
she grows frustrated with my efforts and pulls away.
"You can't undo a bra?" she teases and undoes the offending garment easily.
My cheeks burn but she forces me to meet her gaze and smiles softly at me. "Well, I'm nervous."
She seems to like that and takes my hands in hers to settle them on the rise of
her breasts. I can feel her nipples protruding through the thin fabric and I scrape
my thumbs across them. She arches forward and her lips find mine.
I pull the bra away from her and now feel her bare flesh beneath my hands. It
is warm and soft and hard at the same time and I feel myself growing harder and
harder.
I pull my mouth away from hers.
"More," I breathe against her ear and she nods in agreement.
"More."
My lips travel a path from her neck down to her breast and I circle the
hardened peak of her nipple with my tongue, making a wet path there. She sighs
in frustration and pushes her lower body against me, her hands gripping my hair
to hold me closer to her.
I pull her straining nipple into my mouth, grazing it with my teeth as her
hands travel lower, seeking to speed up this process that is driving us both
mad.
Her fingers work the zipper on my jeans with focus and determination and she
soon manages to divest me of the garment and pulls away momentarily so that we
can shed the remainder of our clothing.
She moves back toward me but I shake my head.
She frowns at me, "Are you changing your mind?"
"What? No, no. Why would I? I just want to look at you."
"Oh." This time, it's her turn to blush. After a moment, she moves back into my
orbit. "Enough?"
"Never," I whisper.
"For now?"
I nod, unable to speak, and we come together urgently. Hands move everywhere,
fingers tracing contours and peaks and valleys. We are both breathing heavily
by the time we reach the bed and she gasps when my fingers first touch the heat
between her legs.
She reaches for me and I pull her hands away, my breath hot against her skin
when I speak.
"No, not yet."
"No?"
"Not yet," I smile. "I want you to be ready."
"I am," she protests.
"Not yet," I shake my head.
"How do you know?" she sighs against me.
"I know. I feel you, Hermione. I know."
My fingers resume their task and soon they are slick and wet and she is moving
against me.
"Now?" she asks, her voice catching.
I push one finger inside her gently and when she doesn't protest, another. She
starts to shake beneath me and I move my mouth up next to her ear.
"It's okay, it's okay." I tell her.
She peaks then, crying out, her whole body convulsing beneath mine.
"Harry…"
"It's okay."
"You…" she sobs. "Want you."
She takes matters into her own hands then, wrapping her fingers around my shaft
decisively, moving along it until I'm ready to erupt and have to physical
restrain her.
"Please?" she asks desperately.
"I can't say no to you."
"Now," she says, biting my shoulder gently as one hand comes up to scrape
across my nipples with her nails and she continues to stroke me with the other.
"Wait," I realize we need some kind of protection.
She whispers
something.
"What?"
"Contraceptive charm. Now," she says,
determination evident in her eyes.
I rest my forehead against her and push into her by degrees, waiting until she
has accepted me fully before I start to thrust against her.
She meets my strokes and grasps at me as she pushes upwards, trying to envelop
me further.
The sensations we evoke in each other spiral higher and higher and I erupt
inside her as she uses her internal muscles to provoke me. She orgasms then, my
name erupting forth from her lips like a prayer and when she finally stops
pulsating around me, I move to roll off of her and she hold me close.
"Not yet, I like this."
I laugh and she smiles at the sensation against her damp skin.
"Harry?"
"Mmmm? I love you."
"I love you" she laughs. "And it's true. The best things are worth waiting
for."
*
His hair is sticky with sweat and I lift it off his forehead, revealing the
jagged scar he was so famous for. He opens his eyes a tiny crack in response,
and I'm presented with that familiar heavy lidded look.
"Sleepy?" I ask.
"Um..."
"It's okay," I chuckle. "Sleep."
He looks to wrap his arms around me and bring me closer, but he struggles as I
slide out of bed.
"Where are you going?" He's still not completely awake but it doesn't
prevent panic from creeping into his voice.
"I need to use the bathroom. You should sleep."
He lifts his head from the pillow. "Are you coming back to bed
later?"
When I nod, he collapses back onto the mattress.
It's just too bizarre to walk around the house naked, even if it is my own, so
I open up one of his drawers and take out a t-shirt, then go to my room to find
a pair of shorts. I pass by his room on the way to the bathroom and close the
door, not wanting to wake him.
I clearly initiated this evening's activities and yet it feels so surreal to
see him lying in his bed, flat on his stomach, his arm reaching over to where I
was earlier. As stupid as it seems, the only thing I'd ever envisioned was
maybe someday showing up to his wedding, drunk, demanding to know why he was
marrying somebody else. In reality, I'd never do anything like that out of
respect for my pride, but I truly thought it would take an extraordinary event
to bring us together, like this.
Maybe he'd come home one day, his heart broken by another woman and what better
comfort is there than a warm body? Or maybe there would be an earthquake and
we'd hide under something and then when it was over, have sex to celebrate the
fact we were alive. Or maybe we'd meet up some day, when we were 30, both
single, and figure why not give it a go for old times' sake.
I never thought I'd sit at home for days, contemplating the moment he walked
through that door. I never thought I'd clean his room so deliberately. I never
thought it would be this mundane and ordinary.
And it was oh so extraordinary.
The shower allows me some privacy and time to think about where we are and
where we're going, but my thoughts always return to the feel of him against my
skin, and I smile against the warm spray.
At the back of my mind is the worry about him catching flak from his mother and
from a number of other people who will find everything about this to be wrong.
At the back of my mind are the taunts I'll hear about how I'm catapulting
myself to fame by sleeping with him, living with him, being with him. At the
back of my mind are his family and mine, the feelings back home and what it
means for us to be together.
But at the forefront is the feel of his skin against mine and I allow that to
take over.
. . . .
"...I must be out and about, so leave me a message."
"Hi mom. I'm just checking in. I'll have to get back to you about my
birthday and the holidays still, so I'll call you in a couple of days. Anyway,
I just wanted to see what you were up to, and to tell you that you were right.
You were right and can now say 'I told you so'. I love you, talk to you soon.
Bye."
I called my mother. I'm certain she'll
call back my phone when she gets the message and as I'm getting some food, I
hear a pop. My mother doesn't Floo…Ron doesn't have a fireplace…Harry's
upstairs…
"Who's there?"
"Hermione, hi."
Mrs. Weasley.
"Hi." Don't think about what happened an hour ago. Think about your
bagel and cream cheese and soup.
"Is Harry back yet?"
"He is, but he went right to bed when he got home." That much was
certainly true.
"Oh, okay."
"Did you want me to wake him?"
"No, no, let him sleep. I just wanted to know how his trip was."
"I'll tell him see you in the morning."
"Thank you."
I'm trying not to feel guilty as she disappears, and at the same time, I think
she'll have to learn to deal with things. As soon as I've had a few bites,
Harry walks downstairs in his boxers.
"Happy faces. I knew it." I tease him.
"It's only this one pair." He insists.
"If you say so."
"Where you talking to yourself, or did I imagine that?"
"Mrs. Weasley showed up." I inform him, waving at the fireplace.
"Oh." He blushes a deep red. "I'll talk to her tomorrow."
He extends his hand to me and then pulls me back upstairs. I know he's still
sleepy, because when we lie down, he settles his head in the crook of my neck
and his breathing soon becomes regular.
"Was it, you know, good for you?" He whispers.
I chuckle at the trepidation with which he asks me. "It was perfect,
Harry."
"I'm glad I'm not the only one who had a pleasant time."
He drifts off and I join him.
***
In the middle of the night, the rain comes down hard and I have to get up and
make sure the window is completely shut or we'll have a minor flood in the
morning. She doesn't wake up as I jump out of bed and is stretched out on her
back. I know she's tired and I don't want to disturb her, and I don't know if
she's got to be up early in the morning. Still, I'm up and I really, really
hate the rain. Seeker's instinct is to
hate rain.
I lie down next to her, flattening my palms against her bare stomach. Her skin
is warm and for a second, I feel badly about waking her up, but it only lasts a
second and when I kiss her softly, she stirs just a bit. I do it again and she
sighs. My hands fly up to her face, brushing past her breasts, and the pads of
my fingertips run across her eyelids, then her cheeks. Her reflexes kick in
even though she's not fully awake and she turns her head towards mine. I kiss
her again and again until she finally opens her eyes and smiles when she sees
me.
"Did I wake you? Sorry."
"Yes, and don't be."
"Okay, I lied, I'm not sorry."
I quickly throw my right leg over her so that I'm straddling her and she raises
her eyebrows at me as I lean close. The cotton of our shorts creates just
enough friction that as I start to rub our bodies together, her eyes roll back
in her head just a little. I use the opportunity and raise my hips up. She smiles and nods her consent, and I pull
my shorts down.
My mouth seeks to mate with hers and she raises her head to make contact as
soon as possible. She's clearly enjoying herself, and lets her hands roam free
underneath my t-shirt.
"My shirt." I notice she's wearing a shirt of mine.
"You mind?"
"Yes. It's rude not to have asked me for permission. So, it's got to come
off now." I pulls it over her head and throw it on the floor. "That's
better. And besides," I groans as her hands boldly cup my manhood,
"why should you be the only one having fun?"
"Mmm, I thought sharing was caring."
"I'm a me-first personality. Those shorts? Are they mine?" I grin and
yank at the waistband.
"No, all mine."
"I don't think so. I think they're mine." I pull them down her legs.
"Only one way to check."
I quickly kiss my way down to her nipple. I sucks on it insistently, grazing it
with my teeth and she cries out, pleasure and pain swirling.
"I knew you'd be a screamer." I laugh.
"And I knew you'd fall asleep as soon as it was over." She shoots
back.
"Not this time, baby. I'm wide awake."
There goes one of my fingers again, inside her, pushing deeply, then
retreating, wet and slick. I touch the pad of my thumb against her, and she
gasps, still sensitive from our earlier pursuits. I sense it and dip my thumb
inside her, gathering some of the sticky moisture, then repeating the motion.
"Better?"
"Yeah. Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm in love with you."
My fingers stop for a moment long enough to cup her face and kiss her
thoroughly.
"Can we play later?" she gasps.
No sooner than she mutter the incantation, do I find her legs wrapped
around me tightly and my thumb back, rubbing along to the rhythm.
I said she's a screamer, but this time, it happens so quickly that she only
manages a sigh. I feel her still arond me, and I'm waiting, willing myself to
hold on as she clenches her muscles against me involuntarily.
When I open my eyes, she kisses me and welcomes me back. I marvel how it feels
like we'd been doing this forever.
