A/N: Sorry I didn't post last week—but I had to really focus on my stupid history class. Well, it's over now (thank GOD) so I'm relieved. I really wanna thank my reviewers, new and old. You people are freakin' great. I'm at 50 reviews! Yay!
All right, I do have something on my mind I wanna get out. It's about this whole Harry, sex thing, lol. Some of your reviews questioned it, like why he was seemingly obsessed with it, and it sort of made me fearful of writing any more sex anything. :Nervous laugh: I myself thought it a bit… much, for lack of a better word, but I know my reasoning behind it. (I'll even explain it further next chapter). Anyway, I resolved to keep it to a bare minimum from here on out, and try to not make it so prevalent, beginning next chapter.
I Never Lived
Chapter 9
Harry's second "meeting" with Cho was scheduled for Friday, this time at a pub. Before that, however, he had to endure a social gathering with Hermione's parents on Wednesday. They were going to the theater to watch a Shakespearian play (Hermione's idea) and then possibly out to eat in Muggle London.
"Shakespeare and your dad, Hermione," Harry questioned Monday evening, "I'd better get something out of this night too!"
"Oh, get over it Harry!" she instructed. How on Earth does he plan to deal with this if we ever get married? Of course, she did not say this thought out loud and seconds later secretly blushed when analyzing it.
On Tuesday both Hermione and Harry ran into former schoolmates, but with very different attitudes and results. A young man with fair hair and light blue eyes walked up to the service desk about ten minutes before Hermione's lunch break and asked for her.
"Everyone asks for Hermione. She's about as famous as her boyfriend." Natalie revealed, getting up to find the brunette. He smiled.
Moments later, both witches came walking from the back. The blonde pointed at the waiting wizard and Hermione's face lit up.
"David!" she exclaimed.
"Hermione." David Rice greeted, smiling genuinely. She reached him and gave him a hug.
"How are you?"
"I'm perfectly fine. And you?"
"I'm… fantastic! How's work?"
"I love it. I know others don't exactly think of my department as being action packed, but to each his own."
"Let's move." Hermione suggested, noticing they were right in front of the service desk and might soon be in customers' way.
Once they were in the sitting area, David struck the conversation back up.
"So how is work for you? Though I can assume that you love it."
"To put it mildly," she smiled, "I'm doing something that I really am passionate about."
"You were that excited about it the last time I saw you as well, which was around six months ago."
"It's really been that long?" Hermione pondered, inwardly wincing.
"Yes," he replied.
"You know, we go out a lot, usually to eat and watch Quidditch games. The boys go to drink quite often also. The next time we get together you should definitely come!" He nodded.
"All right. I actually see them fairly regularly, mostly Neville Longbottom. Seamus Finnigan can be heard a mile away and I see Harry once every full moon, but that's because it's widely known his boss is a mental tyrant." David remarked.
"I've heard enough horror stories about Medwick to believe it," she commented, smiling.
"Why didn't he end up playing Quidditch? He was one of the best players I've ever seen."
"It's… really his story to tell. You'll have to ask Harry. So, how's Rebecca?"
"Oh. Er, I wouldn't really know. We broke up at the end of September."
"Ah. Right."
"I'm by myself right now and don't mind," he told her. Hermione nodded, "Hey, are you off for lunch soon?"
"Yes, in fact," she answered.
"Do you want to go eat? My treat."
"I'd love that."
"Great," smiled David.
During Harry's lunch hour he visited Diagon Alley with Ron and the wizard who could be heard a mile away. The true purpose of the excursion was that he needed gold from his Gringotts vault; he was running low and the rent for both flats was near at hand. Ron and Seamus opted to wait while Harry went into the bank and retrieved his money.
"We'll be at Fred and George's, Harry." Ron said as his best friend started up the steps.
"And hurry up—I'm hungry!" advised Seamus. Harry waved him off.
"When aren't you?" the redhead inquired.
"Oh, you're one to say anything Weasley!"
The bank was rather busy, with every teller taking care of a customer, so Harry got into the shortest line he saw. (There was only one person in front of him). He toyed with the key in his pocket while he waited and looked around the immense building. Perhaps he would see Bill… sometimes he caught him walking around the premises.
It so happened that it wasn't Bill who caught his attention but another wizard whom he knew: Draco Malfoy. The ex-Slytherin was strolling in superciliously from the right and had on the robes of a Gringotts' employee. Harry's brow furrowed angrily as he glowered at his enemy. He looked just the same and Harry was willing to bet he acted same as well. The old hate came creeping back to him along with specific memories of encounters at Hogwarts. He turned and stared straight ahead, the disgruntled look still on his face. He had no idea his turn with Malfoy would have come so soon after Hermione's and did not want it at all. I'll jinx him without so much as a word if he comes over here, The Boy Who Prevailed rationalized.
Harry got exactly what he didn't want.
"Is that really you Potter? Or am I being punished?" Malfoy commented, once he had spotted Harry and gotten over the (very) brief, initial shock. Harry closed his eyes to calm himself before quickly glaring at the blond. He was smiling like he had discovered diamonds but his eyes were menacing. Just don't say anything.
"Decided to crawl from the dark bowels of the earth, have you?" the ex-Head Boy pondered, now a few feet from the old Gryffindor Seeker. Harry gritted his teeth and continued to look in front of him.
"I saw your Mudblood girlfriend not very long ago," Malfoy stated, watching him surreptitiously, "Has her own shop, does she?"
"That's more than you can say Malfoy. How did you manage to get this Gringotts' job? Through pay offs, threats, or both," Harry retorted, finally snapping. Malfoy's smirk widened, as if welcoming Harry's comeback, "Or was it influence? I didn't think much credit was still being given to your name, what with your father being the laughing stock of the wizarding world and most pathetic Death Eater." For a moment, the blond's sadistic content was wiped completely from his face as he leered at the dark haired young man.
"As always, Potter," he began slowly, the smile returning, "You speak of things you know nothing about." Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, considering the conversation over.
"I used my own will, talent, and tenacity to secure this job, and that is why I am Head of my department," Malfoy boasted, twirling his set of keys, "You, on the other hand, no doubt had your career handed to you, along with everything else you own. You've never had to work for anything Potter and it is the reason you are so weak."
"This coming form the boy who was pampered endlessly by his crooked daddy and flighty mummy." Harry shot.
Malfoy's hand had gone to his robe pocket with surprising speed and Harry knew he was gripping his wand; his face was struggling to not appear furious. Go on, use it—I beg you, Harry thought heatedly. It was astonishing to realize how fresh and raw their resentment still was for one another.
"At least my parents weren't slaughtered like animals," Malfoy hissed, releasing his wand. He would surely be fired for battling a customer, no matter how gratifying. This time, Harry was the livid one. But before he could do anything, Malfoy began to retreat.
"It doesn't matter if you beat the Dark Lord or not Potter, you're still worthless," he called, "If you ever want to settle anything, you now know where I am."
"Yeah, and you'll be here until you get your precious father back." Harry responded, not sure if Malfoy had heard him.
Harry told his friends about the run-in with Malfoy and Ron was so riled up about it that he wanted to go right back to Gringotts and "confront the bloody ferret". Harry wasn't for it however, convinced that if he returned he would go to Azkaban for murdering Malfoy. The fact that he had seen him again rather ruined the rest of Harry's day, and he told Hermione about it when he got home.
"Hermione, I saw Malfoy today," he reported as he walked into their bedroom and began to remove his robes.
"Where?" she pondered, turning from hanging up clothes in the closet.
"Gringotts. The fucking prick works there."
"So that's what he does… he made it seem so dark and mysterious! What a liar." She then added a reprimanding shout of his name when she realized his choice of language.
"I don't know how he managed to stay hidden there for a year. He's still the most foul, rancid, piece of—" Harry aggressively began, though faltering before more swear words came out of his mouth, "Well, you know what I'm getting at."
"He hasn't changed—yes, I do. Well, I had lunch with David today."
"Rice?"
"Yes. He came into the shop around lunch and then we went out. I haven't seen him in months really nice." Hermione said, finishing the clothes and sitting on the bed.
"Hmm," he remarked, pulling a white t-shirt over his head. She raised an eyebrow.
"Surely it's not a problem for you Harry, especially after you own little lunch with Cho." He looked at her intently for a moment as if he had missed something.
"What? Problem? Oh, no—not with Rice! He's not a threat," Hermione frowned at this last sentence, "I'm still just fuming about Malfoy. I really wish he would get attacked by a hippogriff or something."
The next day brought the outing with the Grangers. Harry had several thoughts cross his mind as the hours passed and brought the time, seven o'clock, closer and closer. Some included: A) I could lie and say that I have a four hour session tonight, though Hermione knows it's not until Friday,B) Half of the night will be spent in an atmosphere in which we can't talk—this is good, C) But he'll use the other half to torture me twofold, D) Who says we even have to go eat?, E) I'll fake being sick!, F) I might feel much better if I just tell the truth and be prepared to run for my life.
At 6:45, Harry walked tragically into the living room ready to leave. (They were meeting Hermione's parents at the theater and planned to Apparate to a nearby, safe spot). He was dressed in all black, semi-formal clothes, which included slacks & a tie, and had on a nice coat.
"You look too good to pout—stop it," Hermione noted, walking over to him. She fixed his collar and left a small kiss on his lips, "Tonight is going to go well and if I have to keep telling you this everytime we see them I'm going to scream."
She wore a black and red dress that flattered her, a black coat, and had her hair in bountiful, elegant curls. He let a smile escape.
"Will I be able to strip you of that dress later tonight?" Harry asked.
"We'll see," she replied, holding the smile back, "Now let's go. We'll be late."
Harry managed to get through the evening all right. He originally thought he would find common ground with Samuel in the fact that they had both been dragged to a Shakespeare production, but it turned out the play (Othello) was quite interesting and Mr. Granger actually liked the dead poet.
"My dad introduced me to him when I was younger." Hermione commented.
They went to a café for coffee instead of getting filling food, but the 30 minute visit was not much of a relief. The subject of Harry's overall dislike for Shakespeare came up and Samuel seized upon it.
"Dad, Harry's allowed to have his opinion." Hermione lectured, taking her boyfriend's hand. He looked defeated and had just vowed to not say anything else for the rest of the night.
"I know sweetheart," answered Mr. Granger.
"He just said he finds him to be generally sappy. Be nice Sam." Emma added.
"I always am, dear," he told her, folding his arms and grinning at Harry. He did not say much after that, to Harry's gratitude.
On Thursday The Boy Who Prevailed did not have to go into work—he had the day off. He did of course have strenuous training the next day and work on Saturday, but he chose not to focus on that. On Friday, he made sure to leave on time for lunch and left the Ministry to go meet Cho.
The pub, The Dragon's Tail, was full of wizards on their lunch breaks and this time he wasn't as quick to find her.
"I thought pub food was terrible," he claimed, sitting down in the booth when he finally did.
"Not this one. I come a lot." Cho grinned.
"I've only been here once and I don't remember much, thanks to the alcohol." She nodded and he noticed the tall, skinny glass next to her hand.
"Already?" he inquired, pointing to it.
"I got it when I first came in, it's nothing," she half-laughed, "Only a Fairy's Dust!"
"A feminine drink."
"Well what do you think I am?" This made Harry laugh lightly.
"What'll you have?" the waiter shot at them when he arrived, not bothering to look at them.
"Fish and chips." Harry responded.
"The same." Cho chimed in.
"Right," the server said. He rapidly glanced at the two, saw Harry, looked again, and then "hmph"ed. It was a nice change from blatant worship.
Forty minutes later, they had eaten and each had one drink (making it Cho's second Fairy's Dust).
"You know, Harry," she began, her face beaming due to the laughter from a story he had just told, "I'm sorry our relationship ended so badly."
"Yeah… yeah so am I," he acknowledged, playing with his empty glass, "But we were younger, and confused."
"I suppose," Cho nodded, "And we've changed now."
"Obviously, if I can make you smile."
"Oh, but you've always been able to do that!" the witch guaranteed, smiling. He looked at her momentarily and then gave a rapid, sloppy grin. Was something wrong? Why was his neck starting to feel hot? To ignore this sensation, Harry studied the bar for a bit. She took the opportunity to gaze at him.
"Harry, do you ever think about what would have happened if we… hadn't broken up? Or at least, not like that." Cho wondered. He reluctantly pulled his attention away from the bar.
"Er, that was… that was years ago, Cho."
"I know, but I do. I wasn't fair to you, because of the whole… Cedric, issue...," Why was this taking a scary turn? They had been laughing not two minutes earlier, "But if I hadn't been so… well, we might have really had something."
"Maybe." Harry muttered, wanting to go back to laughing.
"It was mainly my fault, and I truly regret it. I liked you, so much," she revealed. He didn't reply, not knowing what to say. It was becoming uncomfortable.
"Does Hermione know you're here?" The uneasiness suddenly exploded. He then observed how close she was to him; at some point during their conversations, she must have progressively moved and he hadn't noticed.
"Cho," he warningly started, stuck. If he didn't want to fall out of the booth and cause a scene he had to stay where he was. Nonetheless, he inched away from her somewhat.
"I'm so much better for you, Harry! I can make you happier!"
"I'm perfectly happy with Hermione." Harry steely stated. Oh, this had gone so very wrong! What a mistake.
"Oh!" scoffed Cho, looking angry for a moment.
"Look—"
"Besides, I know there's no way she can possibly keep you happy in all areas of your relationship," the old Ravenclaw half-whispered, slipping her left hand under his robes and placing it dangerously close to the crotch of Harry's pants. Highly alarmed, he looked down. She took advantage of the situation and his distraction by trying to kiss him. This was the breaking point.
"Okay—no!" Harry exclaimed, holding back his fury. He sped out of the booth and away from a shocked Cho.
"What—" she commenced.
"You know what Cho, this is not going to happen! I am with Hermione and I am not giving her up for you! When did I give you any signal that indicated otherwise? I thought we'd be able to forget about what happened with us and actually be friends, but—"
"Friends? I don't want to be your friend! I want you! I thought maybe you'd realize that you need to dump her and see what's better that's out there! Did you not listen to a word I said?" By now much of The Dragon's Tail had fallen silent and was watching them. He glared at her.
"I think it's best if we don't see one another anymore, Cho. This was a disaster." Harry told her. He took money from his pocket and threw it on the table.
"Harry," she began, wearing an affronted expression and lowering her voice, "Do not leave me like this."
"Well, I am." Harry walked away from her and stormed out of the pub, not looking back once. He was incensed that he had just gone through that, practically having been sexually harassed by an ex-girlfriend.
Harry did not exactly look like the epitome of happiness when he walked into Books, Bludgers & Batteries ten minutes later, and so when he asked for Hermione Talia hurriedly told him she was in her office.
The Muggleborn sat at her desk working on a civil suit, with an open book mere inches away, when her door was opened from the outside.
"If you would please kno—" she initiated in a frustrated voice. Hermione ceased, however, when she saw the intruder, "Harry." She stood up and dropped her quill.
"What are you doing here," He closed the door and moved in, taking out his wand, "Wait—what's wrong?" His face portrayed sheer annoyance and trouble as he wordlessly locked the door and put a spell on the room.
"Harry," she repeated, coming from around the desk and looking concerned.
He met her before she could finish her path to him and took her face in his hands, kissing her deeply. It caught Hermione off guard and she grabbed the front of his robes to steady herself. Harry's hands moved to her waist as the first, profound kiss turned into another, and he walked her to the nearest wall. She didn't know what was happening or what had prompted Harry to come and snog her without words, but something told her not to object. By the time Harry kissed her ardently for the third time, Hermione was starting to need oxygen. When she felt her back collide with the wall, he pulled his lips away from hers.
"Har…" she tried to say, closing her eyes and catching her breath. And then she felt his hands on her thighs, traveling her curves and slopes, and her skirt being lifted up. She opened her eyes quickly.
"Harry—" But before she could say anything more, he had commenced kissing her again.
Harry put his body firmly against Hermione's, preventing her from moving much. He was against her in every sense, and as his hands hastened to undo his pants, she could clearly feel that he was hard. She gave a small whimper in his mouth, not sure if it was a plea to continue or stop. Seconds later, Harry pulled away from her face once more. Hermione heard his labored breathing right before he grabbed the bottom of her thighs, pushed himself into her with a grunt, and roughly lifted her up the wall. Hermione gave a shout of surprise, desire, and a bit of pain.
Harry began pumping in and out of her slowly, burying his face in her neck. She still had a hold of his robes though now it was for relief. She shut her eyes as her heart began to accelerate, and savored the feeling of him moving inside of her. After about 90 seconds, she let a long moan escape her without realizing it. Harry's grip then tightened on her legs and he pressed into her even further. His pace sped up and he started to thrust harder. He let out a tremendous groan not long after and a choked sob came from Hermione. She yanked his robes closer to her, feeling like they were going to rip, and kept her eyes tightly shut.
Harry began to thrust faster still, ramming into her with increasing force. It was beginning to hurt Hermione, but in the best way. Her hair, which had been in a bun, had fallen out long ago. She had never wanted him to keep going and stop simultaneously so much since they had begun shagging.
"Harry," Hermione gasped, having abandoned his robes in order for his stronger neck, "Harry!" She didn't know if it was to get his attention or an involuntary call of his name due to the pleasure.
He gave a powerful thrust at that moment, along with a small shout, and Hermione cried out helplessly, eyes now open and stuck on the ceiling.
"Oh God!" He kept going, his heart absolutely racing, lungs demanding air, and loins screaming for release.
Something was definitely wrong. There was no way Harry came to see her just to have sex; his body, the persistent, rapid, aggravated way in which he moved, conveyed something was bothering him. It was as if he wasn't even in the same room as Hermione, let alone on the same plane. She had to know what the matter was.
The climax came very quickly, and suddenly. Hermione's name slipped loudly from Harry's mouth and everything swayed for Hermione as she lost her breath and her eyes swam in the back of her head.
After two minutes, in which they collected themselves, leaning against the wall and waiting for their hearts to not feel like they were going to burst, Harry let go of his girlfriend. He let her down gradually, kissing her forehead.
"I'm sorry." Harry apologized, voice a bit raw. He cleared it and repeated himself, this time kissing her.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but…"
"No, it's fine," Hermione assured, kissing him in return, "It's fine. I would have said something if I wanted you to stop."
"I'm sorry."
"Just tell me what's wrong, Harry. I know something is." He shook his head and hugged her closely, kissing her neck once. She held onto him fiercely.
"Tell me what it is, Harry, please. I want to know what happened to you."
A/N: All right, so that was the last, descriptive sex scene I'll probably put into the story; I don't want it to wear on your nerves. Let's see if I can get the next chapter up next week, eh? I'll explain why Harry rushed into her office and shagged her, if anyone is really wondering. Kay then… bye.