CW: Mature themes ahead
The bitter morning had Harry's breath feeling like ice in his lungs as he slipped out of the Hut, rubbing his hands together, shoulders hunched. The sun had newly risen, setting the snow on the Rock to appear slightly yellow. Wand flashing out, Harry melted the fresh snow before him as he went to start his morning routine. Out on the island, the jagged rock was a treacherous place even without ice and snow.
He ran his laps, lungs aching as he exercised. Under his three jumpers, he was soon sweating and uncomfortable. The island was at least the size of a quidditch pitch and running the perimeter was a stressful ordeal in itself, definitely enough to cause him to sweat. He pushed himself, settling himself into the rhythm of the jog.
It was the second week of being back at the island. Four weeks since he and Hermione had broken into Hogwarts.
Harry's focus on his physical fitness was one change that had occurred in that time. He had stoutly decided when they first arrived at the Rock that he would pick up his training routine and get himself as fit as possible. He had to keep in shape if he was to lead a rebellion from the shadows.
While house guests of Bathilda Bagshot, Hermione had not been idle. She made the most of the time she had to explore Bathilda's trove of knowledge. But after a few days, Harry was restless. There was little reason for them to stay, reasons that weren't selfish at least. Harry made the call for him and Hermione to leave. Of course, the elderly witch insisted that they stay longer, but the couple were anxious about exploiting her hospitality. Thanks to Bathilda's knowledge and her generosity, they had a means to create a more permanent hideout now that Hermione learned about Bathilda's Fidelius runes and was confident that she could replicate the charm herself.
There was also the fact that while it was heartwarming that Bathilda wanted them to stay, they had work to get on with. They couldn't hash out their plans within earshot of Bagshot in case they inadvertently upset her and caused the memory charms that Rita Skeeter had put on her to break.
After a very emotional farewell with promises to return for Christmas, they left Godric's Hollow. At first, they fell into their old ways of finding remote locations, but then they began to think of a place where they could make their hideout more permanent. And that was what brought them back to the Hut.
"It's the perfect hideout and we can carve the runes into the Hut. The tent, everything in it… us… it'll all be under the Fidelius. No one will be able to find us. Not even… him…"
Hermione's voice trailed off, not speaking his name in case the deluminator triggered. Convinced, Harry agreed that they return. The Rock was bitterly cold and they were swift to shelter inside the hut. Hermione immediately got to work with the runes. When she brought her wand up and cut the palm of her hand with it, he yelped and rushed over.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm keying the protections to me. I'm the secret keeper."
"But…"
"It can't be you, Harry… He shares your blood."
His breath was hot and hoarse as it puffed out of him, each step adding to the rhythm as he ran. Harry had started the routine on the first day they arrived at the Rock. He always woke up early so he made use of the time to do his exercise while Hermione slept. He didn't want her to see how hard he was pushing himself. How many times he had thrown up… or how close he had come to tripping off the edge and into the sea.
He slowed his pace and stopped in front of the Hut door. His breathing was a high, sharp wheeze as he came to a stop. He put his hands on his thighs, gulping in the cold, salty air. Once he caught his breath, he wiped his face with his sleeve.
He heard the door creak open. He flicked his sweaty face up, seeing Hermione. She was still in her pyjamas, but she had put a coat on over. His coat.
"Breakfast in half an hour?" She asked, her breath a cloud in front of her. Harry pulled himself up straight.
"Sure… sounds good," he said.
"Are you done?"
"Nearly… I'll be in soon for a shower," he said, then smiled at her. "What are you going to make?"
"It's a surprise," Hermione responded, smiling, before retreating back inside. Harry huffed out a breath, still smiling.
His and Hermione's relationship had become closer, but in the weeks of intimacy, neither had made mention of the word that they both felt. They also had yet to take the next step. And for good reason.
"Bathilda… gave me the potion," Hermione admitted while they were tangled together after a very energetic kissing session. "But I have to wait until my… bleed. After that, we will be safe to… do it."
Hermione's bleed ended a day ago. Harry knew, of course. It was hard for him to not notice when they were romantically involved. He had been baffled at first. While Harry had been friends with Hermione for years, he had never truly noticed the effect on her mood when it was her 'time of the month'. He got snapped at for breathing too loudly when they were researching through Bathilda's notes together, then snapped at for making her tea too milky, and then when he thought had done something horrendous to upset her and apologised, she snapped at him for being stupid. It only really twigged what was wrong when the following day, she made it clear that a certain part of her anatomy was out-of-bounds. Harry then realised that hormones had been to blame for Hermione's temper. He felt rather stupid for never having noticed it before. But then, it wasn't exactly polite to enquire after a girl's menstrual cycle patterns!
Pulling his thoughts away from Hermione's body and the prospect of them taking the relationship to the next level, Harry continued with his exercise routine. He never felt the need before to improve his strength, seeing that as a seeker, it was more important for him to be fast and agile. Now, he figured it might be wise to be strong enough to at least be able to carry Hermione if she was ever hurt in a duel. And he also knew how much Hermione liked his stomach muscles.
After managing some push-ups and other stretches that he vaguely plucked from his memory of P.E. lessons in his muggle primary school, he made his return back to the Hut, exhausted but exhilarated.
Pushing through the door, he was immediately greeted with the runes flashing at his arrival, accepting his presence in the building. He sucked in a breath, feeling the charms settling on him as he made his beeline for the tent. The savoury smell of bacon wafted out the flap as he pulled it back and he grinned, the warmth inside the tent causing him to immediately flush.
He followed his nose, finding Hermione at the stove, the unmistakable hissing of the bacon the only sound. She was still in her pyjamas. Another benefit of the runes protecting and shielding their tent home was how it also kept the warmth from escaping. It was a comfortable temperature, maintained by bluebell flames and their own hot bodies.
Giddy grin still on his face, he half-staggered over to his girlfriend. She turned at his approach, holding the spatula in front of her like a weapon.
"Oh no, you don't. You're all sweaty. Get in the shower first," she ordered him. Harry eyed the spatula.
"Or what? Are you going to duel me with a spatula?"
Hermione's eyes lit up with amusement and she gave him a little bow. Rather than be amused by her feign engaging him to battle, Harry's grin slithered off his face as he felt a wave of cold.
Bow to death, Harry.
He could see Hermione's expression shift, picking up on his change in mood. Clearing his throat, he put on what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
"I'll get cleaned up."
Grimacing, he knew Hermione would ask him about what just happened to make him visibly upset. He shelved it away. He didn't know why it still affected him so much. Of all the traumatic experiences in his life, it was the main one that struck him with flashbacks that took him completely out of his present and filled him with icy dread. He was desperate for the shower now, not just to remove the layer of sticky sweat, but to drive out the chill of the trauma that Hermione had accidentally set off with the smallest of jokes.
His instinct that she would bring it up was spot on, of course. But Hermione had the presence of mind to know how to address it. She waited until he returned from his shower, hair damp, towel-dried. He was dressed in clean clothes, some old jeans and the green woollen jumper that Mrs Weasley had knitted for him one Christmas. It was getting rather small for him now that he had his growth spurt and was a little tight around the shoulders and chest.
He ate his bacon sandwich eagerly, famished from his exercise. He used his wand to duplicate them.
Their home was a perfect blend of magic and muggle. The food they had procured through muggle means could be multiplied so they could push their supplies to last far longer than they would otherwise. They were still subject to spoiling, even under a stasis charm, the food just seemed to go off. Magic had some limits and they were discovering what they were the hard way.
After eating five sandwiches, Harry settled back, rubbing his content stomach. His snitch was buzzing around his head. He idly snatched it out of the air at random while he waited for Hermione to finish.
Her warm eyes regarded him across the table.
"I don't like it when I upset you and don't know why," she said quietly, "and don't tell me that it's nothing. It wasn't nothing. I saw it in your eyes." She gestured up to her face, gaze going distant. "You went somewhere else."
Harry plucked the snitch out of the air, holding it tightly in his hand, feeling the little wings struggling against his fingers.
"It happens somethings," he admitted, looking down at his empty plate, "I… can't control it. Sometimes it doesn't affect me at all and others… it does."
"It sounds an… awful lot like PTSD," Hermione said. Harry looked up at her, brow furrowed. "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder." She smiled at his confusion. "It's not really much of a surprise that muggles are a lot more advanced when it comes to understanding psychology, especially when wizards don't even have a field of study around mental health. Even so… someone, Dumbledore are the least, should have noticed that you have trauma."
An unpleasant feeling stirred in his gut at the word. It made him feel broken. Deep down, he knew he was traumatised. Who wouldn't be after the things he had been through? He knew the nightmares he had weren't normal. Certainly neither of the boys in his dormitory suffered from them as much as he did. Only Neville did sometimes and Harry was more than understanding, considering their shared tragedy.
"No one ever noticed," he said softly, releasing the snitch again. It hovered by his head. "Not Dumbledore… nor Sirius, Lupin…" His eyes went up to her. "I suppose I hid it well."
Hermione shocked him then by giving a loud sniff. She slipped out from her chair and rushed over to him. He looked up in surprise as she put her hands under his arms and lifted him out of the seat. She wrapped her arms around him.
"Oh Harry… we've been such awful friends."
He patted her back. "Come on, even if you had asked me about it, I doubt I would have talked." He sighed. "I'm pretty stubborn."
She gave a sad chuckle against his chest. "You are but… we could have at least been a lot more supportive. Helped you feel less… alone." She burrowed her head against his chest, her body trembling as she cried. Harry was bewildered by her response, so he just rubbed her back.
"Shush, that was then and it wasn't your fault. Neither of you. I couldn't really expect you to understand what I was going through when I didn't even tell you. It goes both ways. I… well… I should tell you about it…"
He closed his eyes and sighed. He felt her calming down, drawing in deeper breaths. He let the words tumble out of him.
"Earlier…It was the bow. He forced me to bow to him when he… went to make a show out of killing me in front of his Death Eaters."
Hermione pulled back from him, wiping at her face. She looked up at him, her eyes bright, no longer tear-filled.
"I don't want you to walk on eggshells around me," he said quietly, "you make me feel safe enough to drop my guard so please… don't treat me any differently. I'm not fragile. Yes, I've been through some horrible things, and they haunt me, but I don't want to be pitied."
A horrible silence fell after his words. An apology was forming on his lips but before he could speak it, Hermione rose up on her tip-toes and kissed it away before it parted from him. He didn't expect it and drew back a little, but Hermione's hand lifted up to his shoulders and pushed him towards her. Warmth surged through him and he deepened the kiss, not sure why he was being kissed, but he enjoyed it. When Hermione dropped down, ending the kiss, Harry raised his eyebrow questioningly. Hermione rested her forehead against his chest.
"No, you aren't fragile, Harry. You're anything but. You're the strongest, bravest and most wonderful person I know. I… wasn't there for you then as I should have been, but I am now."
His heart swelled and he lowered his head down, placing a soft kiss on her hair. They remained like that for a few moments before he felt Hermione smiling into his jumper.
"Do you know what day it is?" She asked him out of nowhere.
He didn't. He lost track of the day and date days ago.
"Nope," he said, "just that it's December."
"It's the 18th. Thursday… so tomorrow should be when the school ends for Christmas," she said. Harry's lips parted, his mind struggling to work out where she was going with her point. He got there.
"Ah… right. Luna," he blinked and moved back from Hermione's embrace. "You know, I've been so focused on whether or not we should go to Germany, I nearly forgot we need to speak to our Deathly Hallows expert."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I had noticed after you tried to learn German."
"Tried and failed," Harry sighed, "he'll speak English anyway."
"I know we need to sort out whatever is going on with your scar, but… Nurmengard… if we do go, we're going to need some help. We can't go to a foreign country blind, especially not when we're wanted criminals."
Harry nodded and paced away, sticking his thumbs in his pockets. "I know and we've talked about it, but how do we get hold of the Order? The Burrow is under surveillance, we have no idea where Lupin even lives and Tonks… oh shit." Harry slapped his forehead. "I'm so stupid ! I've been to Tonks's parents house! I know where her mum lives… you remember her at Godric's Hollow?"
He turned to see Hermione following his words, her eyes widening. "Yes but we can't just knock on their door."
"No… and getting a message to them will be difficult without being noticed. We might be able to use our patronuses as messengers now, but they aren't exactly subtle."
Harry had taken it upon himself to make sure Hermione could cast a full patronus in a heartbeat after the charm had failed her during the Ministry heist. They didn't stop there either, working out how to plant messages in their guardians. It soon became rather silly when they ended up using their Patronuses to send each other insults and jokes. Though their light-hearted use of the spell soon stopped when Hermione thought it would be funny to use her Patronus to make Harry jump while he was taking his morning run. He had nearly jumped off the cliff in shock.
"We'll figure something out," Hermione assured him, "even if it's as simple as sneaking up to their front door under the cloak and pushing a note under."
Harry snorted. "You say that like it's a joke but it's a pretty good idea."
"A bit like your joke of flying off the Astronomy Tower?" Hermione teased, her eyes lighting up. Harry chuckled.
"Less explosive but yeah, I guess," he rubbed at the back of his neck then saw the two empty plates on the table. He went to clear them up. Breakfast was over.
On his way to the kitchen, he heard Hermione following. He dumped the plates in the sink, gathering the other things that needed to be cleaned. He went to wash up by hand instinctively before using his wand and cleaning them with household spells he had picked up. The ghosts of his childhood were finally retreating as he relished in his magic. He was very aware that Hermione was watching him from the doorway, leaning on the post that supported the partition between the kitchen and the sitting room.
As he cleared the plates and pan away, he glanced over his shoulder, giving Hermione a smile. She smiled back, her eyes taking on that misty look they did sometimes when she was looking at him. His breath hitched at the sight of it, face flushing. He knew that she had been ogling him.
"I think we should go in two days," she announced. Harry straightened, baffled.
"Go… go where?"
"To the Lovegoods."
Harry gave himself a mental shake so he could catch up with Hermione's brain.
"Right so… the weekend. That works," he said, giving a nod. Hermione stepped up to him, the look in her eyes now intensifying as her teeth then worried against her lip. Nerves and desire. An interesting combination.
"It does. It gives us some… time." She put her hands on either side of his waist and pulled him towards her. "We could do it tonight and… use tomorrow to prepare for our trip. I… I want to do it before…"
Harry picked up on what she wasn't saying.
"Before it's too late?" He whispered back. They stared at each other for a moment, then Harry brought his arms around her, pulling her in close. Her arms shifted upwards, returning the hug. They held each other, breaths huffing out of them as they allowed themselves to feel the gravity of their situation and take comfort from each other.
"I didn't want it to sound so melodramatic," Hermione said quietly into his shoulder, "but with how our last few outings have gone…"
"I know," Harry replied and he did know, having nearly died during their escape from Hogwarts. "So… maybe just for the day, we can forget about the war, about the horcruxes and the Hallows, even about him. "
He drew back from Hermione, moving to hold her face in his hands.
"I have pretty much zero experience in romance. You know how miserable my attempts at dating have been. I ruined a date because I was going to see you!"
They both laughed, thinking back on his disastrous first date with Cho Chang. Hermione sobered and gazed deeply into his eyes. Her smile was soft.
"Are you asking me out on a date?" She asked, her mouth curling up in the corner, amused.
"Uh… I think so," he said, then grinned, "I guess we should do some things properly. I should treat you to a fancy dinner, though we have no wine…"
Hermione giggled. Her smile broadened. "You have no idea what you're doing, do you?"
"Not the foggiest," Harry responded, still grinning. "You might have to give me some pointers."
"Just be yourself," Hermione said, sighing out her nose, "I'd rather we… just be ourselves. There's no use pretending that we're romantic while we're both absolutely terrified. Besides, this isn't exactly a conventional relationship. If there is a rulebook on how to date during a war, I don't think we've been following it."
"And you would know if there was a rulebook," Harry pointed out. Hermione smacked him on the arm. He laughed. It was a pure, joyous laugh that erupted out of him effortlessly at the teasing.
"What I mean is that we don't need to date and do all that nonsense-."
"But-."
"We work because we just… connect. There's no need to get to know each other. I know you better than anyone," Hermione said, gazing earnestly at him. Harry's mouth curled up in one corner.
"Do you now?" He asked, reaching up to play with one of her wonderful curls. He held her gaze.
Hermione's gaze turned thoughtful. She raised her hand to run a finger down his cheek tenderly.
"I know that you savour every caring gesture shown to you, even if it's just a smile or someone asking how your day's been. I know that your favourite time of year is the winter because it reminds you of Christmas at Hogwarts. You hate the summer because of your relatives, but you love being out in the sun, especially on a day when there are no clouds in the sky. It makes you feel free." She said softly, caressing his cheek, staring into his eyes.
"Your favourite colour is blue for that reason. I know… you've never been to the beach. I know that you're actually very claustrophobic and don't like going to the dungeons for Potions because of it, as well as Snape, of course. I know that you chew your lip when you concentrate and rub the back of your neck when you're uncomfortable. You also have this strange habit of checking your pillow and covers before you go to sleep."
Harry listened to her, his heart feeling larger with every observation she listed. His hand slowly lowered from her hair as he lost himself in her words.
"I know that… there is no one I would rather be my first, no one I trust more." Her smile softened, muting a little. She took a deep breath and looked about to say something else, but she didn't. So he spoke instead.
"You love the sound of opening a new ink pot," Harry said quietly, "your favourite colour is green. You love the late spring when all the trees have grown their leaves and the Forest is vibrant with life." Hermione's eyes widened as he spoke, her hand lowering. "You chew your lip when you're nervous and brush your nose with your quill when you're puzzling out something. You sleep on your right side and sometimes talk in your sleep. You're afraid of heights and of failure. You drive yourself to the limit, fearing failure and letting down people's belief in you. But you could never let me down, Hermione."
He moved closer to her, so close his glasses were nearly touching her face. Two tears fell from Hermione's eyes, falling so slowly it was as if time had stilled. His gaze hungrily took in her face before he pulled her into a passionate kiss. Her tears were wet on his face as he showed her the depths of his love, the fierce heat of it as his sighs were hot in her mouth.
They were staggering back into the sitting room, desire ignited. Hermione returned his passion forcefully, pushing him as her tongue met his and they pressed their faces together hard. Hungry for more of each other. Harry's glasses were half-off.
"Your glasses…" Hermione breathed between kisses.
"I know. Leave them. If they come off, they come off."
They did come off eventually and were left ignored on the floor. Neither of them were paying attention to where they were going, not until the backs of Harry's knees struck one of the chairs and he fell into it with a yelp of surprise.
Breathing heavily, he looked up at Hermione, his lip a little swollen from where Hermione had bit him in her passion.
"Whoa," he said breathlessly. "I think we have to… do it tonight or we both might explode." He stared up at Hermione, then reached up and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her onto his lap. She collapsed on top of him in a rather ungraceful flop. Harry let out an embarrassingly high yelp as her rather perk backside came to rest on his privates.
"Ow… ow…" He whined, shimmying under her, trying to adjust himself. "You're sat on my balls!"
"You put me here!" Hermione burst out, lifting off him so he could move.
"I wasn't thinking with my head."
"What were you thinking with?"
"My now squashed balls," he said sadly. Hermione settled down and then burst into laughter. She threw her head back, her laughs turning into cackles. Harry shook with her laughs, watching her, bewildered.
"W-what?" He asked her, smiling at her amusement.
"Us… this… we…" she gasped in breaths between her laughs. "We're so violent."
He joined in then. "Well… we are dangerous." He dropped his voice down low as he said the word, moving his face into her hair where he nuzzled in, breathing in the sweet scent of her spice.
"Hmm… dangerous and horny."
Harry moved his head back from her hair. Her eyes fell on his swollen lip and widened in surprise.
"I bit you!" She gasped. "does it hurt?"
"Nah," he assured her, "you can episkey it if you want, but I have a feeling I'm going to be nursing more bites later."
She went to touch it but Harry playfully went to bite her fingers. His teeth clacked together.
"I'm a biter too," he said. She smacked him.
It was a still night, but in the middle of December, it didn't need the wind to be bitterly cold. Harry's nose was bright red from the chill. But he wouldn't be cold for long, not if he got his spells right. While he knew Hermione was far better at charms and transfiguration than he was, he wanted this to be a surprise. He paced around the circle that he had marked out in front of the hut. The snow vanished, leaving the uneven rock bare. He tapped his chin with his wand as he went through the repertoire of spells that he had picked out from Hermione's and Bathilda's books.
It took him twenty minutes to prepare the space. He hoped that Hermione hadn't noticed him sneaking out blankets while she was in the shower. Once he had finished his handiwork, trying to not fuss too much over the lights he had conjured up, he stepped back and glanced upwards to the stars. His green eyes sought out the star that watched over him.
"I want to say the L word, Sirius," he said softly. His mouth curled up in the corner as he remembered that conversation as clear as day.
"If you'll take after James, you're going to be hopeless," Sirius said, lounging back on his chair by the fire. Remus gave a soft chuckle from his seat.
"Hopeless is being generous. He was a moron whenever Lily was around. Could never say the right thing, fouled up every attempt to ask her out…"
"And then he burst out the L word in the middle of the Common Room as if he had been hit with a babbling hex."
Harry sat forward, his chair creaking.
"L word?"
"Oh Merlin, you are as hopeless as James."
Remus cleared his throat, shooting a stern look over to Sirius.
"He means 'Love', Harry. You dad decided it was a smart idea to announce his love in the middle of the Common Room." He then smiled. "It was the first thing he said that actually worked."
Harry's private chuckle puffed out of him and he turned slowly back to the hut. Nerves squirmed inside him. He had managed to quell them all day as he worked on his side-project of making himself a wand holster for both wands. Hermione had been distracted all day, taking long breaks from her research to stare at him as he carefully sewed his creation with a transfigured needle and repurposed thread.
He put a hand to his stomach, calming himself. Throwing one last critical eye over his creation, he headed back into their home.
Hermione wasn't in the sitting room when he stepped into the tent. He then heard her in the bedroom. He closed his eyes, steeling himself, and crossed the distance. He pushed back the flap that separated the two rooms, finding Hermione just pulling a black vest on. She looked back at him.
"You were a while," she softly remarked, her eyes dusky in the low light.
He stepped inside, wringing his hands.
"Hermione… if you think you're ready…" he rubbed at the back of his neck and caught himself, remembering what she had said earlier about how he did it when uncomfortable. He lowered his hand, staring across at her. He held out his hand to her. "Come with me."
"Come with you where…?" She looked down at the bed, frowning.
"You'll see."
She took two steps to reach him, putting her hand in his. She watched him curiously, but didn't say anything else as he led her out of the tent.
"Harry, what-?" Hermione started but stopped the moment he pushed the door open and showed her what he had done. Silently, she let go of his hand and mutely stepped out into the snow, shoes crunching on the thin layer, her breath huffing out of her in pale clouds.
Harry followed, eyeing the small lights that he had conjured. The Candle-light charm. It made floating, tiny flames like that of a candle light. He had conjured dozens of them. They hung in the air, suspended, like Christmas lights, flickering and dancing overhead. They illuminated the makeshift bed that he had made from blankets, plump and squashy where he had placed cushioning charms underneath before laying them on the top.
Hermione's eyes were wide with wonder as she stepped towards the lights. She raised her hand towards them and then looked back at Harry, her joy gleaming on her face.
"They're warm."
"They're real flames," he said, "watch." He drew out his holly wand and raised it above his head. " Aer lucerna."
The tip of his wand lit up like a candle. He lowered his hand and the flame remained in the air above him.
"They're beautiful," Hermione said softly, her face glowing as she gazed up at them. "Oh and the stars…"
"It's a clear night… and like you said earlier," Harry moved next to her, "I'm claustrophobic and the sky makes me feel free." He took her hand in his. "If we cast a bubble charm, it'll keep the cold out…"
As she looked back to him, the lights of his candle charms were sparkling in her eyes. His heart shuddered in his chest. His eyes burned in the corners.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered. He brought his hand under her head, cupping her in his palm and he kissed her. Her hands ran up his back, causing his blood to rise again. Their lips parted.
"You might need to get your glasses checked."
"I told you, I can see you clearly this close without them." He brought his hand up and pulled them off. Hermione gave a low sigh, her eyes tearing up.
"Harry… you're so… gorgeous."
" What?" Harry choked out.
"You are!" She insisted. "Your eyes… no one has more beautiful eyes than you do. Green… like emeralds."
"Your favourite colour," Harry breathed.
"You were wrong about why it's my favourite," she huskily revealed, her sparkling eyes more intense and beautiful than ever before. "It's because of you. Green reminds me of you. The colour of life and vitality."
"And Slytherin."
"Yes and red's the colour of Gryffindor," her voice took a firm edge, "and who do we know with red eyes?"
"Hmm," Harry rested his forehead against hers. "I see your point." He angled his chin up again to kiss her. Their arms tightened around each other as their passions were triggered once more.
Harry pulled away first. He held her face in his hands.
"I… I'd like to make love to you, but I want us to be free. No walls. No fidelius. I want us to have this moment without hiding. The stars as our witnesses."
Hermione sighed, her hair appearing almost like spun gold in the candlelight. Her lips parted as she gazed up at him.
"You lied."
Harry blinked.
"What?"
"You said you didn't have the foggiest idea what you are doing," she reminded him. She brought her hands up and grabbed the front of his coat. "You lied. You, Harry Potter, are a natural romantic… and you do know how to romance."
"Huh, well, I guess Sirius was wrong then," Harry said. Hermione's brow furrowed. "He said I was as hopeless as my dad when it came to women."
Hermione pushed her lips against his, then pulled on his lip in a feisty, hard kiss that had Harry moaning in desire. Their hands were gripping and exploring, eager to get their clothes off and feel hot skin against hot skin.
They came up for air, breathing heavily. Harry gave a laugh, smiling. He flicked his head upwards to the sky. He knew where Sirius was even without his glasses.
"In your face, Sirius. I'm not hopeless." He looked back at Hermione, then over to the bed he had made.
He stuck his wand behind his ear, a gesture of which Luna would have approved of, and he took off his coat. Hermione stepped over to the snow-free ground, pulling off her shoes. She tested the bed.
"I never thought that cushioning charms could be used as a bed," she said in awe, "you really know how to think outside the box, Harry."
"Please keep those compliments coming, honey." He froze. The word popped out of his mouth. Hermione gave a harsh laugh.
"Honey?"
"Hey, you called me 'sweetheart'," he challenged, turning around, ceasing his undressing for the moment. "I heard you."
"You are a sweetheart though," Hermione countered, "Harry Potter, the boy with the golden heart."
"Ergh, stop with the compliments please."
The casual banter was helping with the nerves. Harry stripped down to his boxers and shirt, shivering, and he crawled onto the bed, glad to be under the warm canopy of floating candle flames. He rolled onto his back, watching Hermione who moved to join him. She too had dressed down to her vest and knickers, biting her lip as she crawled over to his side, her hair falling down as a golden-brown curtain.
Nerves clenched his gut as Hermione settled beside him and rolled onto her back, same as him, looking up at the flames and the stars.
Relax. This moment belongs to you two. Enjoy it.
His glance slashed over to the dogstar. It was his thought, but he felt comfort in thinking that his godfather was encouraging him to live for the moment. He sat himself up and pulled his wand from behind his ear, casting the bubble charm to shield them from the cold air while trapping in the warm. The spell bloomed around them.
"I'll pop some breathing holes," he said, scrunching up his face as he aimed and shot small reductor curses through the charm.
"You really thought this through, didn't you?" Hermione said softly as she watched him. She sat up too.
"It helped that we had the trial run in the Forest of Dean," he said once he finished making sure they wouldn't suffocate. He rolled onto his side. "Though… this is as far as I got in plan-."
Hermione's lips were on his, stopping him mid-word. Her hands came up to his face, cupping his cheeks as she gave him the most tender, wonderful kiss. It was a message and he heard it loud and clear. A tear slipped from his eye as he felt it. Her love.
Their bodies pressed together. Harry put his wand down and brought his hands up under Hermione's vest. Hermione brought her arms upwards, reading his intention. Weeks of intimacy had them communicating without words. He pulled the vest up off over her head and he threw it aside. He groaned in his throat at the sight of her in just her bra.
He then brought his arms up so she could take of his shirt. She sighed as she saw his chest. She discarded his shirt and abandoned his lips. She put her hands on his shoulders, met his gaze. Her pupils were fully dilated, the golden flames like sparks in her eyes. She pushed him down on their spelled bed and went to kiss every inch of his torso.
Harry's toes were curling as he rocked his head back, his breathing turning shallow as the velvet soft lips caressed his skin. He brought his hands to undo her bra. He managed on the first try. He felt Hermione smiling as she kissed him. She rolled her shoulders, letting the bra fall down her arms where Harry removed it.
"You… are so… beautiful," Harry said again. His hands ran down her sides, feeling the bumps of her ribs, the slope of her waist. Then he cupped her breasts, running his thumbs gently around her nipples. Hermione brought her head up and Harry then surged upwards, brushing his cheeks against her breasts before kissing her soft skin. Her hands were now worshipping his body. Her fingers traced the muscles in his abdomen, his pectorals, then they dusted over his shoulders and down his back, all the way down to the waistband of his boxers.
"Are you…?"
"Yeah, I was hard the moment you crawled onto the bed," Harry replied. She pulled his boxers down and his penis sprung out.
Liberated, Harry's desire exploded. He guided Hermione down to the bed and moved astride her. He sat back on her thighs, electrified.
"If… if you want me to stop…"
"Never stop."
He brought his fingers down to her knickers and pulled them down. The scent of her arousal slammed into him and he was nearly mindless. He kissed the groves of her hip bones, bringing his lips closer and closer to her prize. Her back was arched as she responded to his touches. He slipped a finger up into her entrance, finding it already slick. Remembering the many talks, he had some clarity in his lust-hazed state, enough to remember that if she wasn't ready, he could hurt her.
He went to stimulate her, finding her clitoris, rolling it carefully.
"Harry!" She gasped out his name. His cock twitched at the ecstasy in her cry. "More!"
He obliged, sticking his fingers into her, feeling the warm, soft insides of her vagina, slick and pulsing.
Hermione grasped his head, nearly seizing him by the ears and pulled him down to her face. Their kiss was pure breath and spiced with lust. As they kissed, Hermione's hands moved down to his cock. Her hands carefully touched him. He moaned into her mouth.
"I want you so much," he groaned. "You are… my world."
Her hands moved to his hips. He pulled his fingers from her, slick and wet. They gazed at each other, both flushed, both fully aroused.
"Make love to me, Harry."
Harry kissed her. His body somehow knew what to do, obeying the drive to connect with the one he loved so fiercely. He placed his hands on either side of her as he pressed his tip at her entrance.
As he entered her, Hermione's let out a moan into Harry's mouth. Her hands tightened, nails digging into his buttocks. Harry shuddered as she enclosed him. Hermione rocked her hips towards his.
"You feel… so amazing," he moaned. "But I… I'm going to take this slow… If… I hurt you…"
Hermione jerked upwards her lips latching onto his. In response, Harry put his hands on her hips and thrust against her.
Both of them sighed out hot sounds of pleasure. He moved again and Hermione moaned again, her kiss stilling. She ground her hips against his and they soon found their rhythm. Harry felt waves of intense pleasure lashing over his skin with every push. Then Hermione's mouth went up to his earlobe and bit.
"Ah!" His vision sparked as his pleasure reached new levels. His desire took over and his thrusts moved more urgently. Hermione's hands were touching his face as she kept kissing him.
"Hard… harder…" She gasped out between kisses. "Please!"
He growled in response, losing his senses. Now with every thrust he made, Hermione responded with a high moan that sent shocks down his spine and up into his balls. He drove in, moving his hands under her so he was supporting her with each powerful push. Her moans pitched up higher.
"Harry!" She cried his name. "Oh fuck."
He laughed between his groans.
"That… is what this is…" He said. "I'm… fucking Hermione Granger."
Her laugh was high and morphed between moans of ecstasy. "And… I'm taking Harry Potter's virginity."
He gave another growl and claimed her beautiful lips with his. The sound of his name on her lips made him throb and burn. He thrust again and this time, he moaned. He bowed his head, the pressure mounting up.
"I'm nearly… there," he breathed out.
"Take me with you."
"I'll try…"
His thrusts upped in pace. They captured each other's sounds of pleasure with clumsy kisses.
"Harry!" Hermione near shrieked, her back arching. He felt her swell around him, the pressure setting him off. His cum shot out in a rush, causing bright lights to blast in his vision. He held Hermione as she orgasmed, her moans tapering off into pants. He carefully pulled himself out and flopped onto the bed. His chest was shining with sweat.
He had a second to get his breath back before his view of the candle flames and the stars were blocked by Hermione's shadowed face. She lowered her face down and kissed him.
It wasn't one of the hard, clumsy kisses, hot and hungry.
It was a soft, loving caress of her lips against his. He felt a tear drop on his face. He was pulled towards her, magnetised, his returning kiss as tender, as caring. The hands that had been just forcing her body against his were now lightly brushing through her curls, feeling the sweat at her scalp. He rose until he was sat up again, his hand blindly searching for his wand. He grabbed it and vanished the mess he had made on the bed.
When their hearts slowed, their blood cooled, passions calming and slowing, they moved apart.
Harry ran his gaze over Hermione's body quickly.
"Did I hurt you?"
She jerked her chin a little to the side. "Only a little at first, but then… it was all…"
"Magical?" He finished, the word falling out of him. She smiled and Harry thought right then that it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her face, flushed from the sex, her eyes full of candlelight, her curls shining like gold… and her gaze was full of warmth and love. Love that was all for him.
"It was magic." Her voice was soft. "You were magic."
She shuffled over to him on her knees and wrapped her arms around him. He did the same, embracing her, hands running over her damp skin, still hot.
"Do you… want to lay out here for a while?" He asked her.
"More than anything."
They sunk back down onto the bed. Hermione brought her wand out and plumped up the cushioning charm under their heads into a makeshift pillow. Harry sighed and brushed a curl back from Hermione's face so he could see all of her.
Gazing at her, his heart thrummed with his love. The thrill of the sex had his spirits soaring, his smile feeling like a permanent fixture on his face.
He had to say it. The L word.
"Hermione?" He paused, hesitating. But then he tilted his head up to the sky, smiling at his godfather's namesake, then looked back down to the woman he loved.
"Harry?"
He kissed her lightly on the lips and drew back.
"I love you."
Hermione's face gave a small crumple and her eyes dewed with tears, but she wore the largest smile he had ever seen on her face. She kissed him back.
"I love you too."
