A/N: Sequel to This is My Truth, Tell me yours. This fic is set to the album Equally cursed and Blessed By Catatonia- Another Welsh Band!
This is less angsty, as Harry and Hermione deserve some peace! Enjoy and PLEASE review!
Disclaimer: JKR and Catatonia take credit for this one!
Chapter 1: Dazed, Beautiful and Bruised
Hermione groaned and stretched, slowly waking. She could see the autumn sunshine through her closed eyelids and feel the warmth of it on her face.
She opened one eye to look through the nearest window and closed it again with a smile.
She turned on her side, propping her head on her hand, opening her eyes and breathing in the scent of the room. Of Harry.
He lay on his back, his eyes closed and his bare chest rising and falling with his breathing.
Hermione moved closer and snuggled into his side- one arm over his chest and her head buried in the crook of his neck. She kissed his neck below his ear and he squirmed. She kissed him again, raining kisses along his jawline and planting the final one on his lips.
His eyes opened. She loved to watch him open his eyes. Just to see those amazing eyes come to life in the morning made her heart beat faster.
He fixed her with his gaze and she felt the heat rise to her face. The corners of his mouth twitched; she was blushing, she knew.
She buried her head in the crook of his neck again.
'Don't do that!', she said, in a tone that betrayed her amusement.
Harry scooted away from her a little to get a look at her face. 'Don't do what?', he asked seriously. 'This?' He fixed her with another intense stare.
Hermione blushed furiously again and she swatted his arm. 'Now, that was just mean!' she said, grinning. 'It makes me feel like you're undressing me with your eyes or something'.
'Well, usually I am', he replied, smirking. 'But since you're already undressed, I see no reason to right now'. He finished with a yawn, pulling her into his arms and hugging her tightly.
'Morning', he said, groggily, after a minute.
'Must be', Hermione replied, half-heartedly.
Hermione looked around the room and out of the french-windows to the balcony that overlooked a stunning, deep, Welsh valley.
The room was big and bright; it had sash windows either side of the large french windows. It had a large fireplace flanked by two wing-backed chairs. A circular rug rested in the middle of the aged wooden floor, directly under a large old candelabrum.
Directly opposite the fireplace stood the bed. It was a large oak four-poster with deep green hangings, unlike the red ones of Hogwarts'.
Hermione breathed deeply and smiled.
'I love living here', she said dreamily.
Harry paused for a second and then laughed. 'We've been here for eight hours, Hermione'.
'I know that', she replied hurriedly. 'But, waking up here… It just feels right.'
'I know what you mean', Harry replied quietly.
'It's eleven o'clock, Harry', Hermione reminded him. 'We should get up'. She sounded as if the statement took a lot of strength to say.
Harry grunted sleepily. 'A fiver says we've made the Daily Prophet.'
Hermione laughed. His antipathy toward his fame hadn't changed. 'Think I'm stupid enough to bet against that, Potter', she asked cheekily.
Harry let out a mock defeated sigh. 'Nah, you're too clever, Potter'.
Hermione giggled at this and leaned in and kissed him. 'You stay there', she mumbled against his lips. 'I'll get the breakfast'.
She grabbed her dressing gown and made her way to the door, slipping it on as she went. She turned and smiled at him as she shut the door. Harry smiled widely back at her and winked.
Slowly, he dragged himself out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans, a wide smile still on his face.
It felt strange waking up here. Well, he thought, maybe strange wasn't the right word. The feeling was strange, yes, but it was a good strange. Like a nice surprise.
Godric's Hollow. His family home. Hermione was right. It just felt perfect waking up here, with her.
His smile faded slightly as he remembered the events that had led to yesterday. The last two years had been strange. Grief and guilt punctuated the pure bliss of Hermione and her love.
The last year of school had passed in a flash. Harry had defeated Voldemort. He had survived one of the most feared spells in the world. He had single-handedly rid the world of one of the greatest threats ever to face it, and he was a hero for it.
But what he gained in popularity, he lost elsewhere. He had killed someone. Those words seemed to resonate in his head for months afterwards. Every day, he grew more ashamed. It had taken the combined efforts of Dumbledore and Hermione to make him see sense.
He remembered how much Hermione had helped him but worst of all, how much anguish that caused for her. What he felt, she felt. He wished he'd known that then.
I've got my work cut out with you
You tore bits out of me
Your carpet burns and bruises blue
Are there for all to see…
He remembered that night they'd sat by their common room fire (they were Head Boy and Girl). She'd asked to know everything and he'd told her. Everything. About his childhood, the Dursleys, the battle, his feelings… everything.
It was getting bright when Harry finished his catharsis. He'd told Hermione things he hadn't told anyone. Things he'd barely admitted to himself.
He remembered how he kissed her, and how they made love on the couch while the sun came up. And that was when things changed. From that morning, they didn't just share friendship and love. They shared emotion and worry and understanding. They shared everything. To this day.
Harry remembered the day they left Hogwarts on the Hogwarts' express for the last time. He, Ron and Hermione had been awarded a rare smile from Professor McGonagall as she hugged each of them in turn, each more gobsmacked than the last.
He remembered how the three of them, as one, had turned to take one last look at the castle before boarding the hissing train.
Harry remembered walking hand in hand with Hermione into their London flat for the first time. He still had nightmares, back then, like the old days. Barely a night would pass when he wouldn't wake up to see Hermione's worried eyes and feel her hand on his cheek. "Relax, sweetheart", she'd always say, soothingly. And it calmed him.
The nightmares got less frequent with every day he spent with her. He began to feel rested and alive again. When he took up Quiddich again, he knew he was back to normal. That the past was just that: The Past.
But I can tell you've been through hell
Finally you wear it well; it's an accessory
It's time to change your uniform
And hand it on to me, to me…
Harry strode over to the French Window's, wearing nothing but his old jeans, and threw the doors open. He walked out onto the balcony, feeling the soothing cold of the slate beneath his feet. There were two wicker chairs and a small wicker table in the corner of the large balcony.
The balcony itself jutted out from the master bedroom on the third floor, exactly in the center of the house, giving it a very symmetrical feel. The house was built into the wall of the valley, so that the balcony seemed to overhang the valley itself.
The valley was a spectacular sight: autumn showed itself in the vast array of colours it possesses, making the valley a veritable kaleidoscope of greens, oranges, reds and browns. And today the sun was shining, giving the countryside a glow normally reserved for summertime.
This had been Dumbledore's doing. He had restored the house to exactly how it was in Harry's parents' time. Harry smiled at this thought. He was home. He had always thought that the concept of Home was a cliché. He supposed that a home was just where you spent your time. No, he thought now. A home is where you live. His home had been taken from him exactly eighteen years ago, and now he'd found it again with Hermione.
Between the lines, I think you'll find
Lessons learned through valleys' eyes
Beauty can turn sour…
So recognise, through all the lies
The hero of the hour, the hour…
Harry had been thinking and admiring the view for a while when he felt Hermione's arms slide around his waist from behind. She hugged him tightly and giggled. He spun around and put his arms around her, a huge smile on his face. He lifted her off her feet and laughed with her, before setting her down again, one arm around her and hugging her to his side.
They stood for a minute; Hermione taking in the beauty that surrounded her and Harry just basking in the tranquility. After a minute she looked up at him. She leaned in, kissed his temple and whispered 'I love you'.
Harry turned to face her again. His smile grew as he looked into her eyes, which were shining with happiness. She was smiling too.
'Yesterday was the best day of my entire life, you know?' he whispered.
She giggled again. 'Well,' she replied analytically, 'you've had a rather eventful life. Are you sure about that statement?'
Harry laughed at her.
'It was incredible, though', she added. 'I thought I might faint when I saw you', she said cheekily. 'You should wear those robes more often'.
He laughed again as he leaned down and kissed her on the lips. He could feel her smile through her kiss. She pulled away after a minute of giddy kissing and smiled at Harry.
'Breakfast', she whispered breathlessly. She looked in the direction of the wicker furniture and Harry followed her gaze. There was a large tray on the table. It was laden with a pot of tea, two mugs, a jug of milk and some toast with butter and jam.
Harry sat down in one of the large wicker armchairs and pulled Hermione onto his lap. He poured the tea and Hermione snuggled into his lap.
Hermione sat up after a second. 'I forgot the paper', she said. 'I'll be right back'. She got up to leave but Harry just took her hand.
'Watch this', he said, grinning. He held out his hand, palm up, and said 'Paper'. The daily prophet appeared in his hand.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at Harry and he shrugged. 'Dumbledore did say that this house had special qualities, remember?'
He pulled Hermione into his lap again and he opened the paper in front of them. They both gasped when they saw the front page. They had been expecting something, granted, but certainly not this. A huge headline at the top of the page read:
-Wedding of the Century-
Harry and Hermione finally marry
"Finally?" asked Hermione, looking at Harry with a shocked expression. 'We're only nineteen, for Merlin's sake!'
Harry just laughed and kept reading.
'The wizarding world stood still today to witness the marriage of Mr. Harry Potter to Ms. Hermione Granger. Mr. Potter, beloved of magical Britain and Ireland, married long-term girlfriend, Ms. Granger, widely believed to be one of the greatest minds of the century, in a ceremony in London yesterday.'
'"The greatest mind of the century", eh?' said Harry playfully, nudging Hermione in the ribs. She smiled despite herself.
Harry continued reading, picking out interesting bits along the way.
'Mrs. Potter looked stunning in silk, ivory coloured robes, while Mr. Potter looked dashingly handsome in jet black ones…The party lasted long into the night, with Mr. And Mrs. Potter leaving just before three… We suspect the party is still in full swing this morning…Mr. and Mrs. Potter spent the night in the Potter estate in Godric's Hollow, Wales, where they will live from now on…The happy couple are due to leave for their honeymoon in the west of Ireland later today…'
There was a picture below the article of Harry and Hermione sharing a kiss at the reception. Harry smiled, remembering the moment. Hermione looked at him, positively giddy with happiness. He put a hand to her cheek.
'You're so beautiful, Hermione', he whispered to her. 'I can't believe we're married. I love you'. He pulled her closer and she rested her forehead on his. The breakfast lay forgotten as she slowly leaned in and kissed him.
Harry deepened the kiss, pulling Hermione closer still. She took his hands in hers and made to stand up, never breaking the kiss, which was fast becoming more passionate.
They were both standing now; Harry's arms were around Hermione's waist, while hers were around his neck. She broke the kiss for a second and held out one hand, palm down this time. She whispered breathlessly 'blanket', and a warm tartan blanket appeared on the cold, slate, balcony floor.
She looked up at Harry again, but only caught a glimpse of him before he claimed her lips once more. Before she knew it, she was lying on the warm blanket; Harry above her, kissing her frantically. She answered by sliding her tongue along his bottom lip and then into his mouth. He let slip a moan before she flipped him over so that she was straddling him.
She didn't break the kiss as she undid his jeans. He flipped her over again and quickly kicked them off. She was below him now. He looked deeply into her eyes like he had earlier and, like always, a blush crept to her cheeks. He didn't know why this happened, but he knew he liked it. He smiled and she pulled him down for another kiss, her hands buried in his hair.
Harry slid her silk dressing gown off her shoulders and she felt the cool morning air caress her body. It was a strange feeling; warm Harry and cold air. But there was something, she thought, to be said about making love in the open air. Well, rather more than something, she mused, as Harry's lips journeyed down her neck and shoulders, warming her as he went.
Hermione took hold of his shoulders, pulling him up to her eye-level again. She giggled. Again. She supposed she was still hyper after yesterday. And last night.
Harry smiled cheekily while his hand made its way down her chest and stomach, finally resting on her inner thigh. Hermione moaned with frustration. She could 'feel' that Harry was frustrated too, but she knew that he loved to tease her.
She smirked at him. It was a 'two can play at this game' smirk. His grin faltered as she flipped him over again. She locked eyes with him and raised an eyebrow. She planted a short kiss on his lips; then his shoulder and down his chest and stomach.
Harry knew where this was going. It was his turn to take her shoulders now. She sat up, straddling him: a triumphant smile on her face.
'Sorry', Harry muttered, a grin creeping back onto his face.
'That's quite alright', she replied. She bent down and kissed him again, and he gently rolled her over, not breaking the kiss. She moaned, almost with relief, as she felt him enter her.
A short while later, they lay, tangled in the blanket and each other. Hermione's head rested on Harry's arm, while he played absent-mindedly with her hair. They lay in content silence as they watched the clouds drift by overhead.
'You never cease to amaze me, sweetheart', Hermione said after a second. Her breathing was still shallow. Her cheeks were flushed and she wore a wide, satisfied smile.
Harry just grunted, too exhausted to comment. He pulled her closer to his side, though. He felt his eyelids start to droop…
When he woke, he was in his new bed. He felt a weight somewhere along his midriff. He reached for his glasses, and the reason for the weight became obvious.
Hermione was sitting on him. Fully clothed, he thought with a pang. She was smiling and her cheeks were still rosy. Her hair was tied back in a messy but attractive bunch.
'Feeling better?' she asked with a smirk.
Harry groaned again. 'How are you so hyper?' he asked, smiling at her. 'We got around three hours sleep!'
Hermione shrugged. 'I'm just Happy', she replied. She looked as if she might burst with happiness.
Harry sat up and kissed her. 'Time to go?' he asked her as he struggled out of bed.
'I've packed your case and we're all set', she replied, nodding. 'We'll go once you're dressed'. She headed out of the room, turning and smiling at him like she always did.
Harry pulled on some fairly decent cloths and a cloak. When he found her, Hermione was waiting in the huge library of the house. He could tell that this room was going to be his rival for Hermione's attention.
He crept up to her while her back was turned and put his arms around her waist. She turned around immediately to look at him. God, he looked handsome in his cloak, she mused. She ruffled his hair and pecked him on the lips.
'Let's go'. She took his hand and they both apparated to their honeymoon.