It was just past ten when Hermione settled in at the Greengass vacation home on Lake Brienz. Upon stepping out the backdoor, she was immediately memorized by the property's natural beauty. Draco had greatly undersold the Swiss house's lavishness. It could hardly be considered a cabin, and it definitely wasn't quaint.
After slipping into some lounge wear, black leggings and and long jumper, Hermione curled up on a grey oversized round chair that was next to a large picture window. It provided a perfect view of the striking turquoise lake and mountainous landscape, both lit up by the star scattered sky. She sipped on tea while as she gazed out and watch the moonlight dance on the still water. Oddly, she felt at peace being alone in such a beautiful place, and maybe it was good practice.
After all, her husband wasn't interested in working on their marriage, and her children all but hated her. It seemed more than likely their family would never be as it once was. She was going to be alone.
It wasn't even as if Hermione could turn to her two best friends for comfort. She hadn't spoken to Ginny since Rose's party, and despite her attempt to be supportive and understanding of the younger women's lapse in judgement, she was disappointed in what she'd done to Harry.
Harry.
Hermione's relationship with him was a whole other problem she'd been skillfully avoiding. She'd thought as time went on, her feeling for him would dampen, but she'd been very wrong. She missed him, craved him in away that until recently she didn't know was possible. She tried her best to push her emotions aside, but it was no use now, not when she'd already admitted to herself what she wouldn't dare utter out loud. She was in love with him, and that was the most devastating blow of them all.
Had Hermione recognized these feelings twenty years ago, it might have been different, but it was too late for them now. They'd built their lives and families around Ron and Ginny, and despite her heartache over what could have been, Hermione didn't regret any of it. Her marriage to Ron had given her the things she loved most, Rose and Hugo.
Hermione reached to the coffee table for her novel, a temporary escape from her misery. Just as she opened to the first page, she heard the faintest crackle. As she lifted her gaze to the stone fireplace, a small green blaze begin to flicker and then spewed ambers into the air. With a quick bang, a shadow appear and a figure crawled out into the living room.
"Harry!" Hermione cried out in shock, rising from her chair. He'd been the last person she'd expected to appear in the flames.
He stood before her, wearing his navy work robes and a tiresome face. His black hair was askew with several strands sticking to his soot covered forehead. He looked crazed, and his green eyes conveyed a coldness Hermione had never experienced from him before.
"What are you doing here?" She asked timidly as butterfly tumbled inside her stomach.
"What am I doing here?" Harry asked incredulously, his gaze hardening even further. He shook his head angrily and took a step forward. "What are you doing here?"
Hermione winced.
"I'm on holidays," she replied quietly, and as the words left her mouth, she realized how utterly stupid they sounded.
"At Malfoy's vacation house?" Harry balked. "You're joking."
"No," Hermione said, feeling a heat rise to her cheeks. She defensively held her arms tight to her chest. "Why are you here?"
Harry shot her a pointed look before slipping off his cloak and carelessly tossing it on the chair where she had just sat. He roughly loosened his tie as he spoke.
"The Minister of Magic takes off and you really didn't think the head Auror would hear about it?" Hermione sighed as Harry continued. "Kingsley gave up your location in less than a minute."
"Of course," Hermione grumbled, moving a few steps away and turning her back to him. It didn't matter if he was the head Auror or not. He had no right barge in on her like this. "You haven't answered me. Why are you here?" She asked again, this time harsher. "Surely you didn't think I was kidnapped by Malfoy and brought here against my will."
"Stranger things have happened," Harry replied dryly, his tone softening a bit.
Hermione wasn't in the mood. She'd come here to be alone, and even the famous Harry Potter needed to respect that. She wanted answers.
"Harry," she said firmly, shooting him a meaningful stare.
He looked grief-stricken, internally struggling with whatever was going on in his mind.
"I want to know what's going on with you," Harry answered, cautiously moving towards her as he spoke. Hermione swallowed hard and inched backward. It was not lost on her that they were alone.
"I don't know what you mean," she lied weakly.
"Don't play stupid," Harry snapped, glaring at her fiercely. "You're a fucking wreck." The words struck Hermione hard, and just as she opened her mouth to object, he continued. "And despite the fact that you don't seem to give a damn about me, I still care a great deal about you."
"Harry - "
"You've been a complete mess," Harry continued, now only a few inches from Hermione. "Nothing like that strong witch I know."
"I'm fine," Hermione whispered. She was desperate to put distance between them but her back was now pressed against the cold wall. There was no escape.
"You promised me you wouldn't do this." Sorrow swam through his eyes, searching her for answers. "You promised you wouldn't shut me out like you did the first time."
"I'm not..." Hermione whispered, tears building inside her.
Harry erupted with anger, slamming his left fist hard into the wall beside her.
"Don't lie to me!" He roared, his nose now itches from hers. "Don't make me thing that I've conjured this up my head. You're driving me mad!"
"Harry, I - "
"I can't stand you hating me!"
Hermione's eyes widened. "I don't hate you!"
"Then why are you treating me like crap!"
"Damn it, Harry! Don't you see? It's because I want you!"
Hermione cursed herself after the words she'd been so afraid to say flew from her mouth.
Harry took a step back in utter shock.
"What?" He breathed, and finally it was his turn to be at a loss for words.
"I think about you constantly," Hermione confessed, her voice quivering and hands shaking at her side as he stared at her. She couldn't look him in the eye. It was far too mortifying. "I can't shake the Forest of Dean from my head. I thought restoring my memories would give me clarity, but all it's done is make things so much worse."
Harry was reeling.
"You think about us?" He asked, his heart beating quickly. "Together?
Hermione closed her eyes softly, allowing her head to rest gently against the wall. She was done fighting.
"Yes."
A beat passed before Harry lunged at her, his mouth fusing to her lips as he roughly pressed his body against her. His firm hands ran down her back and gripped her tiny waist.
Hermione was taken completely by surprise. She couldn't believe this was happening. Allowing herself to shut down her mind, her mouth slowly opened against his, welcoming his tongue.
Harry moved to Hermione's neck, roughly sucking near her pulse point. She groaned with pleasure as he reached under her thighs. In one swift motion, he lifted her up, and instinctively she wrapped her legs around him as her hands tangled in his dark locks. Their lips parted momentarily, and she could hardly catch her breath before once again he was on her.
"What are we doing?" Harry breathed in between heated kisses, his hand that was wrapped around her right thigh skillfully inched upward, eliciting a sensual moan.
"I thought that much was obvious," Hermione whispered against his lips. Her fingers were on the top buttons of his white dress shirt, ready to undo them.
"Should we think about this for a minute?" Harry asked with a heavy sigh. As much as he didn't want to stop, he didn't want them to have regrets either.
"Probably," Hermione sighed, pulling away from him.
Harry set her down gently, and a immediate tension grew as they both breathed heavily.
"You and Ron?" Harry asked, knowing he didn't need to elaborate more. Though he knew things weren't great between his two friends, he'd never been officially informed about what was going on.
"Separated," Hermione answered hurried. Her hair was tousled and her red lips swollen. "You and Ginny?"
"A bit more complicated," Harry grimaced with a tinge of guilt. "We're taking a break. Whatever it is that means."
"Right," Hermione nodded, trying her best to mask her disappointment. Harry and Ginny were still together. How could she overlook that? "So I guess we really shouldn't..."
"No, probably not."
A silence took hold of them. Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, not sure what to do next given the heated and, not to mention, inappropriate moment they'd just shared. She moved to get around him when his hand lightly grab her wrist, spinning her toward him.
There was no wasting time when their mouths connected this time, and Hermione easily melted into Harry's touch, once again forgetting all logic and reasoning. All she could concentrate on was the sensation of Harry's body fused to hers, and her hips bucked as she felt him press closer.
The pair stumbled towards the master bedroom, and Harry's hands ripped off Hermione's jumper just before they fell onto the spacious mattress. They'd been in this position before, but this time it was under much different circumstances. Hermione was no longer a shy, self conscious girl, and Harry was certainly no longer an inexperienced, fumbling boy.
Hermione pulled Harry's dress shirt over his head, and tossed it away, bringing her hands to his brown belt. She was on her knees straddling him as she unbuckled and smoothly removed it.
Harry watched Hermione hover over him with lustful eyes, and his pants were hastily removed by her eager hands. In a swift motion, he rolled on top of her and slid off her leggings, leaving her only wearing a pair of white knickers. Feeling daring, he trailed kisses up her thigh, all the way to her centre.
Hermione's eyes rolled back and for a moment she thought she might scream. She guided his head back up to hers before crashing their mouths together. Her fingers slipped underneath his boxers, touching him playful. He groaned, and deciding to put him out of his misery, she quickly removed his boxers.
Harry stared down at her, still not quite convinced this wasn't all a wonderful dream. Though he'd replayed their first time together over and over again in his mind, nothing compared to the real thing. This was everything.
Harry settled himself in between Hermione's legs, locking onto her dark, longing eyes. When he finally pushed into her, he cried out with ecstasy. He'd forgotten how good this could be.
Hermione was starting to feel tension build as Harry continued to thrusted inside her. Her body was moving with his, mimicking his touch, and she had let go of control completely. It had never felt this good with Ron. Not once. This was instinctual, perhaps even animalistic, and she had never experienced an intensity like this before.
Harry lifted her legs to rest on his shoulders, now pumping faster. Within second Hermione came undone, crying out as her feet arched with the pleasant sensation that overtook her. The sound of her release sent Harry over the edge and he bucked and finished, gently falling on-top of her.
Harry rested on Hermione for a moment while they both struggled to catch their breath. When he'd regained some energy, he slowly rolled off and onto his back, He turned on his side to look at Hermione.
She was staring up at the skylight, looking at the many stars that scattered the sky. She was deep in thought, that Harry was sure of. Cautiously, he pulled her towards him, her front curled into his side.
"I think it's safe to say our friendship's ruined," Hermione murmured against his chest.
"Don't start over analyzing everything. At least not right now," Harry whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
"Harry, I - "
"Tomorrow," he softly interjected, stroking her tangled hair. "There will be plenty of time to discuss everything then. For now, let's just sleep."
Harry's voice sounded pleading, and Hermione could not deny that she too was very tried. She closed her eyes, allowing her lids to get heavy as she pushed all her worries aside.
Harry was right. Tomorrow there would be time to fret, and fret she would.