The disclaimer is in the first chapter.

High Praise to the Higher Power.

My gratitude to my Mother and Son.

A hug to The Deathly Minion.

AN: The reason that I'm posting before 24 hours is that I have a big errand to run in the morning. I know later in the day I'm going to be too annoyed, hungry, and indifferent. So, before I get to that point, here's the update.

A big holiday hug to the followers and reviewers.

This is still rated M+18 Mature language and themes.

Thank you for your support on not bringing any trolls. I still don't feed them.

Enjoy!

-oo0oo-

The essence of dreams.

Hermione woke to the soft glow of the stars. With, a quiet and slow breath she accepted the change of scenery and being in her bed. She looked up and felt comfortable at the familiar surroundings, the vaulted ceiling design of her room, which had the enchantment to reveal the evening sky. Satisfied that she found the obscure charm and could replicate the effect on her chamber. For once she smiled glad to know it had all been a beautiful, and healing dream.

She recalled her dream and meditated quietly. 'Harry was back, he learned the truth, and he cried in her arms and begged for her forgiveness,' It was a lovely vision, in contrast with the ugly revelation on the conception of the twins. Hermione was happy with this new aim in her life. She closed her eyes and relaxed.

Only then did she feel a warm body, next to her. She smiled to herself, as she considered in silence. 'This must be some dream,' the smirk on her face was making her cheeks hurt. It had been so long since she had a sexy dream. Funny thing is, she could not evoke a past dream in which the lover in question, not only felt good but smelled good too.

Gentle as a feline, she turned around and tried to figure what her crazy mind in dreams came up with. He had an arm covering half his face still he cut a handsome silhouette, in the soft light. Hemione smiled, this was so exciting, as she knew she would probably wake any minute, with either Crookshanks jumping on her bed and on top of her belly, and following Crooks, would be Matt or Henry or both, saying good morning and asking for water, or breakfast or Merlin knows what. But, at the moment, mommy was busy, dusting the box where her libido remained asleep and getting ready to put this sexy dream and lover to the test.

Again she realized her cheeks hurt, she had not smiled like this in years. He was strong, lean, but strong, and his perfume was like forest, parchment, and myrrh, she loved those scents. As a plus, he even had raven hair, she hope she could remember the dream as Harry, but she would not question a gift horse or the teeth in its mouth, if not Harry, this dream clone of Mr. Potter, would do just fine. She giggled and kissed the skin of his chest, conveniently placing herself on the top, as though he was a perfect pillow.

Harry awoke to the sound of giggling. He used to hate the fact that he was a light sleeper, after the war, he could not rest if there was a sound out of place. But what his eyes relayed made him reconsider his sanity. Hermione was busy peppering his chest with light kisses, and she was smiling, he felt just like a blanket that was being pawed and purred by a lioness. He blinked and grinned at this find, and development. Hermione was laughing quietly and kissing him and suddenly sleeping was not as interesting as a beautiful woman waking him up with soft touches.

Hermione realized this dream was amazing. This man was above desirable. He was athletic, full of wiry muscles, compact, and not without his advantages, like his third leg that at the moment was making a standing salute to her kissing and wiggling. Usually, in her dreams, she could not make sense of the man's face, but in her daydream fantasies, he was always a raven-haired, green-eyed cutie with a beautiful, yet bashful smile, that answered to the name of Harry. So far this dream was exceptional.

Harry realized Hermione was getting quite aroused and, of course, her hips grinding him, her gorgeous breasts rubbing on top of him, had the maddening effect of him losing sight of his common sense, because, who needs a brain, at a moment like this? Not him, not him at all.

Hermione decided that since this was her erotic dream, her bed, and her fever addled libido granting her a dream lover who looked just like Harry, she could investigate further this dreamboat lover, under her terms. First things first, her brain decided in silence. 'Kiss him on the nondescript lips and then tie him to your bed, before the dream changes.'

In the soft reflection of the night sky, she raised her face and found the daydream face of the man she wanted blinking and blushing, she smiled with a bit of sadness, wishing it was the real Harry, she stared for a couple of seconds longer and gathered that hell, she sorted into Gryffindor for a reason, and it was her freaking dream, so she kissed his eyes, his fainted scar, nose, and lips, not without whispering, "I love you, Harry,"

He was going to reply in the same fashion when she whispered. "Petrificus Pars,"

Harry could not believe his senses, she had strapped him to her bed with partial petrification. A second later he was in a spread eagle position and she rose naked, powerful and her eyes were golden pools of longing, then she looked at not just him but her bed, and he could see the wheels on her head-turning, in a hurry, calculating the logistics on how to advance efficiently, she threw the sheets off her and him and continued exploring with her lips. He felt like crying with happiness, as his brain acknowledged in silence, 'I'm so lucky!'

Hermione could not remember a past dream lover that had such cute dark pink nipples, nor that they tasted like cotton candy and so sensitive to the touch, his well-defined pecs, his cute belly button, or the soft patch of dark hair on his pubic area, plus the beautiful sight of his partially erect sex just for her.

She did a soundless slicing enchantment on his underwear and took a moment to look at the man of her dreams breathing through his nose, blushing, and displaying nothing but need in his eyes, as he bit his lips, and trembled unsure if she wanted to kill him or to love him. She kissed him again, pouring all of her love, hunger, and need in that kiss with tongues. As her desire surged, she felt as though she was drowning, and for once, her body moved in a seductive sway, unknown to the conscious, dependable, boring bookworm Hermione J. Granger.

Harry never imagined something like this could happen. Maybe in porn, but not a typical scenario, maybe softcore Dom/Sub. Then again, Hermione would never be just anyone or a regular Domina, before now, she never had a choice, but given a choice, she turned feral. And, she was breathtaking. He just prayed to the universe, he was worthy and exclusive to her, he just couldn't imagine sharing her, and from the looks of Hermione, she was possessive too.

He closed his eyes and took in her repressed desire, her despair, the need her skin shared when in contact with his. His magic flared.

She was hungry; her need seemed to be the only thing leading her. As his magic soared, he knew he could have stopped her in a split second. He could summon the Death Stick and spelled a 'Petrificus Totalus' and a numbing 'Aguamenti.' But, the thing was, he loved her. Harry would explain later, since his logical reasoning went for a ride, as soon as Hermione finished sizing him up, and dove in head-on, with more resolution than himself killing the Basilisk. All he could do was breathe, and for seconds, even just breathing, held its issues.

Hermione realized she needed to taste, lick and touch everything. She was if anything thorough. This version of Harry seemed to be a perfect 3-D model of a sex doll, including his manhood, there was never a better time, and this dream kept getting better and better.

Harry watched in silent admiration, through half lid eyes at Hermione, his beautiful woman, how she kissed, licked, and bobbed her head to his erection, her tongue, her fingers, and throat were in a continuous caress that unmade him. He couldn't move, but he could have said no or made a noise to oppose, still just as his magic was gaining strength, so was her magic, and it felt just like a cool-mist after encountering a forest fire. It soothed and restored something broken and forgotten inside him. He let her magic permeate all of him, in this beautiful spiritual awakening.

As his sight relayed images of the goddess on top of him just sighing in satisfaction. It was then he understood. Some males in nature, need to be sacrificed to their female counterparts and lose their ability to think in order to give in completely and power the new generation. To fade into nothing, only grasping at pleasure, as death closes and claims your loving heart.

Harry got very sensitive, so after a moment, he broke the enchantment on his partial petrification, his hands became unlocked, and he decided to not only return the caress but make her his own.

Hermione felt how her body got levitated and hips repositioned, she tried figuring out, how did that happen, but only for a moment, as the next thing to cross her mind was, 'Oh Merlin, now I understand the big deal about oral sex, fuck, this feels amazing!' instead she said, "Oh, just like that, oh Merlin Harry! Ah!"

Hermione realized she could grasp the headboard and tried to separate from that manic mouth on her frenzied dream lover, he opposed the idea, since he clung to her hips, and with a couple of fingers parted her vulva and his tongue made her reconsider fair play, as she panted, pleaded and shook with pleasure until his last tongue stroke obliterated any sense of consciousness, and she believed she was dead and her spirit floated in a different realm made of waves of color and joy.

Harry noticed her response and was happy. What was more humbling was that she cried his name, as she reached orgasm. As she rested her head against her forearm and gained her breath back, he gently levitated her and placed her body so the two could meet eye to eye.

He was now sitting, and crossed-legged, and placed her on his lap.

Harry did a wandless clean upon his face, and when Hermione and he positioned face to face, he could see that she still had a bit of his release on her chin, and neck. He cleaned her with a wandless spell. He took her hand and kissed it. Then he felt her take his hand and kiss it in return. After that, she kissed him. As the kiss went deeper, she rose slightly and then aligned his sex to her and slowly joined. Then she hissed while saying, "You're perfect, just right."

Harry nodded and felt her taking all of him and whispered in her ear. "I never knew how much I loved you until you were gone, after, it was as though magic faded, and I was empty, and nothing made sense. I understand now, I've always loved you as you loved me, but broken as I was, I never had the words, I never felt worthy. I'm sorry I couldn't be here before today, I love you, Hermione,"

Hermione felt this dream was the most visceral and captivating reverie she experienced to date, even if not real, her mind, her soul felt complete and Harry, dream Harry, was just the cherry on top. She decided she didn't want words, or pesky thoughts, that somehow would grow into regret and then incredulity. If this fantasy would last for a heartbeat, she would make every second count. She kissed him and continued swaying her hips, her head rolled back, her jaw relaxed, as she closed her eyes and sighed as she gave in to her fantasy.

A strange thought crossed Harry's mind, as soft whispers in his ear. It clicked and made sense to Harry, Hermione believed she was dreaming. No wonder she was uninhibited, all was fair in dreams, and with dream versions of himself. A moment ago, he thought he couldn't love her more; she proved him wrong. She dreamed about him. His brain just echoed, 'She really, really loves me,'

Harry could only wonder, how could he even the experience, make it up to her, it was then she began shuddering. He ordered, "Open your eyes, Hermione,"

She did, and she found the object of her dreams placing her on the mattress, as her back touched the golden sheets, his hands did a gesture and her head and neck rose from the sheets and his lips met with hers in a soft kiss, as the tips of his fingers pushed energy as he held her, and in a soft whisper, he said, "So beautiful, so brave, so full of love, not just any witch, not just a woman, you are magic, I promise, for every tear, you wept because of me, I will make it up to you." Hermione felt tears pool in her eyes, as she tried to validate reality from dreams.

Taking all the details that made this moment resonate, this was the healing and closure she needed. Her raven-haired dream lover began thrusting in a frenzy, and again, he whispered to her ear, "I love you, and this is not a dream, I love you, Hermione Jean Granger,"

"Oh my, I can't stop, Harry I'm," Harry kissed her, and added, "Don't apologize, not now or ever, I wanted you, you are my dream girl,"

Hermione tried to reason, but this time love took shape, in one burst of primordial energy. An aura of vitality covered both in a caress and charged each lover and then it flowed as a being of independent consciousness that slithered from male to female, and back charging their heart, bodies, and minds and had their magical cores mend and fill above their expectations, as the two wept, not in pain, but in bliss, healing and soothing in their union, visions of their past, present and future all collided. As the two hearts that for so long remained discordant, were now beating in the same rhythm and magic recreated them into extensions of one soul.