DISCLAMER: I do not own the Harry Potter characters or imaginary places. They are owned and created by J.K. Rowling, published by Scholastic Books Inc, Bloomsbury Books Inc, Raincoat Books Inc, Warner Brothers Inc, and others. No money is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. The song is from 'Hedwig and the Angry Inch'. The song is based off of a Greek myth. It's a great movie.

WARNINGS: femmeslash, war-time

I Believe in Her: Chapter Three

It's a sweltering summer night. It has been a few months since I've been in her arms. There have been a couple of times I have seen her. It is usually when we're in the same meeting or on the same assignment. We can't behave how we did that night. Not in front of everyone else at least. No sense in causing danger.

The setting sun is burning hot as I sit on the fire escape. I am waiting for her. She promised me she would be here after the sun sets. I am tingling in anticipation to feel her soft skin pressed against mine, to hear her hitched breathing, her cries as she comes, and to bask in her warmth and love until sunrise.

I haven't watched a sunset since I was in school. The last time I watched one was with Ginny. It was a couple of months before fifth, sixth, and seventh years were drafted. We were sitting on the edge of the frozen lake. The sun was a deep red color, almost ominously so. The sky slowly turned from orange to pink to purple and finally a deep blue. I saw all of the colors reflect off of the snow. I swear I saw her reflect too. It was at that point when I took a hard look at the girl next to me. I remember thinking how striking her hair was against the sky and how her eyes could never be that color of blue.

I see her below me now. Her obnoxious dark sunglasses are in front of those eyes, and she is wearing those silly black gloves with the cut off fingers. She is whispering something to herself and is looking around to see if anyone has followed. Sometimes I wonder if she has had a couple of screws knocked loose. I love her regardless. I hear the door bell in my apartment, and I go buzz her in. Within a minute there is a faint knock on my door.

The second I open it she flies into my arms and kisses me. "Goddess," she whispers into my ear. "I've missed you."

"Not as much as I've missed you," I retort.

Eventually she lets go. I shut the door. She puts the kettle on. We talk. It's been ages since we have talked.

"It's so good to see you on missions every now and again," she says. "It lets me know that you're still alive." There is a pause. "Knowing you're going to be there gives me something to fight for, to live for." She begins to cry.

It's touching. She is so emotional. It is hard for me to vulnerable. Thus far she is the only person to really see me in a delicate state. I trust her. I love her. I love her. "I love you," I blurt.

"I love you too, Hermione," she says as she sets her cup down.

The sunset is when I first implied that I had feelings for her. Or rather, it was after the sunset. We were on our way back to the castle. It was cold and snowy and she wasn't wearing a warm cloak or proper foot wear. The dear was moping and shivering. She was complaining about how the person whom she loved, me, didn't care for her the same. So I turned to her and said, 'You don't know that.' And I hugged her and held her as she shuddered against the cold. I may have kissed her, but I don't really remember.

Now, her eyes are darker than that sky on the outside edges of her iris. Towards the middle it turns grey. In the middle they are a silvery blue, like the color reflected on the snow. I never thought I would like them this way, but I do. Almost like I didn't think I would like her war hardened body and mind. Her skin is still so soft and there is a soft place in her heart. It's a place I could have solely seen. Somehow I love everything about her, and I can't break away because it's all so comforting. Just having her here makes me feel domestic and happy, opposed to a witch warrior in a torn nation of wizards. When I am with her there is no dark and light, no good and evil. It is just us. No battles, just a safe loved feeling.

She smiles at me from across the room. As her lips curl I catch a glint of the old Ginny behind her eyes, the mischievous little darling. She beckons me to sit next to her on the sofa. I sink into the tattered old thing. It might have belonged to my parents. As soon as I get comfortable she puts her hand on my thigh and leans to kiss me. It's soft and warm. I could live in her mouth. I could live in her in general. I wouldn't mind never leaving her. I dream of one day just being one person with her. This woman is my second half.

We lay there a while, warm and close on that tiny sofa. She has her arms wrapped securely around me. I have mine wrapped around her. Our bellies and breasts are touching, and we rub our noses together and giggle. With everything that's happening outside the walls of my flat, we still manage to keep what's going on out of our minds. It's almost, just for a second, like we are back in our school days.

As she holds me I begin to tremble. It's a lovely dream, but I never want to wake up. She knows what I'm thinking. She brushes her lips over mine. I lean to kiss her again, but she pulls away from me after getting very close. It's both amusing and frustrating.

"Wha- what are you doing?" I lean, but she pulls back. All I can do is whine. She kisses me. What passion. I can't help but bite into her lip. I want to hear her moan.

"Mm, Hermione," she pants into my ear as I suck on hers.

Her hands find their way to my breasts. My oh-so sensitive nipples are perfectly erect as she plays and kneads. Somehow I am on her lap, grinding onto her belt buckle. She tears her eyes away from mine to look at what my pelvis is doing. She runs her fingers down my stomach and kisses my neck. I can't help but throw my head back, pant, and moan. The things that woman does to me.

She smirks at me, "You're really horny tonight."

I keep writhing against her. "Maybe a little," I manage to get out. "What about you?" I stop so I can speak properly. "Your mouth is all swollen and pink. You're as hot as I am, aren't you?"

She flashes me a wide grin, "You'll hafto wait and see." She puts a hand in my hair and pulls my mouth towards those lovely lips.

In the other room I hear a high pitched whistle. The water is ready for tea. Bloody hell. She looks at me, expectantly, to get up so she can fetch the tea. I oblige but not without protest.

"Can't we just turn the burner off?" I bite my lip to sell it better, but she only smiles and heads to the kitchenette. Not soon after does she return with the tea.

"All you had was cinnamon herb," she frowns. She wants lemon. She likes lemon. We sip in silence.

That is until she sets her cup down momentarily, and I climb back on top of her. She smiles a bold smile and wraps her arms around my middle as I kiss her long and hard. She's soft and beautiful, and she moans into my mouth as I rub her chest. She pulls my red camisole off as I unbutton her black shirt. My skirt rides up when she runs her hands up my thighs, over my scars and healing, self-inflicted wounds. Somehow she looks but shrugs it off. I take her bra off. There are small cuts where it covered. She understands.

We venture to the bed. I wave my wand and light the candles and incense. The room quickly fills with the smell of ylang-ylang and myrrh. She is quick to unlatch her belt and unbutton those tight jeans. They hit the floor as I let my skirt drop. Her skin is flawless under the candle light. We stand there, like bloody fools, just staring at one another. We were under candle light before, but didn't really get a good look at one another. She's built like a boy; broad shoulders, narrow hips, but she has something about her that makes her perfectly feminine.

She crosses the room and pulls me into a warm embrace. It's so good to feel her bare skin on mine; palms on my back, her breasts against mine. When we get into bed her legs get intertwined with mine. So silky. We shed our panties fast as possible. I reach to touch her and she's dripping.

"I win, you're as hot as me," I love being right.

She only blushes and kisses me. She busies her hand with me and we move together. It's slow and it's amazing. She's in so deep it's almost as if we're one. She is the first to fall over the edge, her cries growing louder until my hand is covered in warmth. The movement of her hand stops and I hold her until the shuddering stops.

She mumbles something inaudible and sighs. She then becomes aggressive, kissing me and touching me all over, her tongue sliding up and down my body, her hands everywhere at once. I push on her shoulders and she moves down, pausing to dip her tongue in my belly button. She teases me only a moment before giving in. I grab her hair as the sensation rips through me. I can feel her fingers again. Oh gods and goddesses. I can't control my body anymore and my mind clouds. Suddenly my insides melt and I cry out only a little.

She lazily crawls up my body and lies on top of me. She wipes her mouth on my neck and then kisses it. "You're lovely," she whispers. I'm sure the tea is cold by now.

We lie there, feeling like we're the only two people in the world. We're sticky due to the summer heat and sweat. I reach to the nightstand and wave my wand to extinguish the candles. She curls around me and whispers that she loves me. I say the same to her, because I really mean it. I won't say it if I don't mean it.

Origin Of Love

by Rufus Wainwright

When the earth was still flat
And the clouds made of fire
And mountains stretched up to the sky
Sometimes higher
Folks roamed the earth
Like big rolling kegs
They had two sets of arms
They had two sets of legs
They had two faces peering
Out of one giant head
So they could watch all around them
As they talked while they read
And they never knew nothing of love
It was before...
The origin of love
The origin of love

And there were three sexes then
One that looked like two men
Glued up back to back
Called the children of the sun
And similar in shape and girth
Were the children of the earth
They looked like
Two girls rolled up in one
And the children of the moon
Was like a fork shoved on a spoon
They were part sun, part earth
Part daughter, part son

-------

Last time I saw you
We had just split in two
You were looking at me
I was looking at you
You had a way so familiar
But I could not recognize
'Cause you had blood on your face
I had blood in my eyes
But I could swear by your expression
That the pain down in your soul
Was the same as the one down in mine
That's the pain
That cuts a straight line down through the heart
We call it love
We wrapped our arms around each other
Tried to shove ourselves back together
We were making love
Making love
It was a cold, dark evening
Such a long time ago
When by the mighty hand of Jove
It was the sad story how we became
Lonely two-legged creatures
It's the story of the origin of love
That's the origin of love

(A/n: Alright! I am proud of that tasteful sex scene. I hope that's what you all wanted, yes? Review or no more chapters!)