Hi guys!

So, remember how I said a few chapters ago that I thought I could wrap it up in 5? I lied. I think I might need another 7-9 to tell this fully, so I hope you'll get on this ride with me :)

Interesting: from now on, we'll be reading from Hermione's POV (except for maybe the final chapter). I hope writing from her view is going to be as natural to me as it felt writing for Harry.

First part - some exposition about Hermione's standpoint in all of this. Then, some more smut. Because why the heck not?

I've gained a lot more favorites/followers/kudos/reviews the last couple of days - thank you all so much! I am just so thankful :) I also appreciate it when you guys point out errors, I try to edit them immediately, but I post on two different platforms so some might get updated and some might not. I will try to update them all without errors when the entire story is finished.

Love,

Flora

Chapter 10: How Hermione loved receiving an early Christmas present

The scent.

The scent was the first thing she noticed, when she slowly drifted out of a very comforting slumber. It wasn't all that pleasant - it was a typical morning smell, after all, but somewhere in between the smells of drool and fast sleep, she smelt that. An intense smell, that made her stomach go crazy with want, and butterflies, and do somersaults like there was no tomorrow. Harry's smell. She had smelt it all her life, but never like this, never mixed in with the other scents she was so familiar with, and it thrilled her. Then she became aware of her hands, that were laying on a very comfortably breathing chest, pressed up against soft cotton. She felt a strong arm around her, hanging loosely on her waist, fingers faintly peeking under her tank-top and caressing her hipbone. Their embrace was tight, but not so tight as to be uncomfortable, and Hermione sighed so deeply, that she felt light-headed for a moment.

So, this was real, she thought. Yesterday night wasn't the most vivid and amazing dream I've ever had. I actually did that with him. We were kissing, we were... touching. He saw me naked, he was able to touch me right there, and I didn't freak out.

If she only dared to open her eyes... Harry's right hand, that had laid on his stomach, moved to his chest and found hers. He intertwined their fingers, made a soft murmur, and fell silent again.

It was real. It was very, very real, and she didn't want to waste one moment not looking at him.

Harry smiled in his sleep. He looked a lot younger when he was so relaxed, and for a moment it was like Harry had never been "The Chosen One". He was a young adult, who looked extremely cute with that feint smile playing around the corners of his mouth, a slight stubble growing on his chin. He seemed happy, like she had never seen him before, and that filled her with an intense joy. That joy exponentially increased when she realized that - hold on! - she was the reason for his happiness. She felt like singing.

Hermione had been in love with Harry her entire life. It was a cliché, it was bad, it was wrong, but from the moment that little boy with the big green eyes had thought of her first when he realized a giant troll was roaming through the school, she knew that what they had, was special. Her entire life, up until that point, had consisted of being bullied and being singled out. She was used to it, had tried to create a thick skin at a very young age, but there was a glimmer of hope inside that little girl that when she would go to Hogwarts, she would finally belong. Up until Halloween she'd had bad luck. No one accepted her, people laughed at her for wanting to achieve academical success, and she seriously contemplated if she wouldn't have been a better fit for Ravenclaw, but then the troll incident happened. The two boys that she had tried to befriend, had come to her aid, and the fact that Harry had thought of her first, made her little twelve year old heart soar. She developed a childish crush at first, but quickly decided to not let a single soul know of her deepest secrets. That childish crush developed into something more, a lot more, and when she was fourteen, panicking about Sirius Black and Harry's safety, she knew that this was not something that would simply pass over.

If Hermione had known that she was just "in love", she wouldn't have freaked out so much. Being in love was easy. It was something she could rationalize - these were chemicals that made her do crazy things and it would fade over time. It had with Viktor, it had with a few boys from primary school, it had with that summer romance she met when she was on vacation in France with her parents. What she felt with Harry, was absolutely a lot worse than being in love. It was deeper, it was a connection she could not ignore nor rationalize, and it drove her completely insane. She cared more about Harry than she cared about herself, most of the time, and it scared the hell out of her. This wasn't normal. Being in love with someone made her want to kiss and hold hands and go on a date. Being close to Harry made her want to give up everything she held dear in order to help him or be with him. She fought it sometimes, scolding herself for how completely idiotic it was to get so influenced by a boy, but over the course time, she'd accepted it. It would be Harry - it would always be Harry, and that was fine.

She knew Harry didn't experience the same feelings. Obviously he remained Harry - he was gentle, considerate and appreciative most of the time, but he was completely oblivious. When she noticed that Harry became interested in girls, most noticeably other girls, she felt defeated and heartbroken for some time, but then she decided to move on. The relationship she and Harry had was great: it was a deeply rooted affection and love that she had always wanted to experience with someone and the fact that it was not romantic or sexual, did not make it any less valuable. She made peace with it. She would never marry her best friend, the only person she had that connection with, but she would be able to experience his closeness in almost every other way and that was all that mattered.

So, she turned her attention to other boys, and Ron was the first available option to her. She knew he liked her, with his teasing and his protectiveness, and somewhere that felt like a safe option. He was loyal, she knew that, and he truly cared a lot about her. Their relationship had almost ended in shambles, though. Aside from the fact that she did not want to be intimate with him - it grossed her out - Ron was too insecure for his own sanity to date her. He had always been in their shadow, and having to face the death of his brother, he couldn't take one more minute of not being fist place to someone, his grief was just too raw. Hermione had agreed - Ron deserved someone who thought the world of him, who would always put him before their own needs. She hadn't been able to provide that for him. He simply wasn't the most important person in her life. Harry was, and Harry had always been.

Their last fight had been memorable. Ron and Harry, both in auror-training, had traveled to Hogsmeade to be with their still-studying girlfriends. It was awkward: Harry and Ginny were clearly still on their post-war high, and Hermione and Ron - not some much. They'd separated their ways, Harry and Ginny obviously sneaking off somewhere to share a good snog, and she and Ron had been alone. They searched out an empty alleyway, and exploded at each other, insulting and swearing at the other until all their resentments had cleared. She finally admitted to Ron that she did not love him like he loved her, and that that was extremely unfair, and that he deserved to be happy. He had listened this time, and he had pulled her in for a hug, and they had both cried.

'I am so, so sorry Ron,' she sniffled against his shoulder. 'I want to be this person that you want me to be, but I just can't...'

'And I can't be the person that person for you either,' he said, sympathetically. 'You are brilliant, Hermione, just the way you are. It's just that we can't work together.'

'No,' Hermione said. 'We're making each other very unhappy.'

'We're driving each other nuts,' Ron agreed, and then they both laughed.

'This is going to be so hard,' Hermione said, biting her lip, but Ron shook his head.

'This is going to be as hard as we're going to make it for ourselves. I've had enough hardship for the past year, I won't allow us to dilly-dally. We're going to tell everyone that we're just friends, and we're going to make the most of it. I will always love you deeply, Hermione. You know that.'

'And I will always love you,' Hermione agreed, wiping away her tears. 'Thank you for... everything.'

'Thank you,' Ron smiled. 'We needed this. It would have always been that "could it have been"-question between us. It's good we've tried it, right?'

Hermione nodded, but then Ron's face turned serious again.

'It's Harry, isn't it?'

'Wh-what?' Hermione stammered.

'The reason why you can't commit to anyone. I'm right. It's Harry. It's always been Harry. Am I wrong?'

Hermione felt her heart sink. Her breathing increased and she didn't want to look her friend in the eye.

'Talk to him, Hermione. Please. Before he proposes to Gin and you will always regret not having said anything. Don't torture yourself. I know you never put your own needs first, but you deserve to let your feelings out. Harry will decide what to do with it.'

'I can't,' she whispered back. 'He doesn't feel that way, Ron.'

'You don't know that.'

'I do-...'

'You've never talked about it. You don't, Hermione. I think he likes you a lot more than he realizes, but he is being holding it in as well. Because he values you too much, just as you do for him. Don't withhold his chance of speaking up for himself, just because you've decided that it would be too hard for him. You are the strongest woman I know, but you don't always need to be strong. That thick-skin needs to go sometime, Hermione. You'll regret it otherwise.'

The words had always stayed with her, but she had made her choice. If Harry felt like that, he should discover that on his own terms, and she wouldn't interfere with that. It was his journey and whether he would feel the same at some point in her life or he wouldn't, she would continue to support him as his best friend, because that's what she was.

The last couple of years it became clear to her that nothing would ever change. Harry was single for a couple of years now. In the beginning he'd bring some one night stands home (and Ginny offered to pose as his girlfriend to recover from the harassment that he faced from the Daily Prophet), but that had faded as well. She'd expected him to make a move right then, but when she was with him, it was still familiar, reliable Harry. Nothing changed. And with that, all the hope she had harbored vanished. It didn't even sting as much any more. She was used to it, and she still got to be close to him, laugh with him, banter with him. Life was fine and she was happy, in her own way.

But then the engagement happened. Touching Harry was always nice, but when they had kissed that first time, surrounded by family, she thought she had died and gone to heaven. A moment later she realized it was all a ruse, but still - his touch lingered on her, and even though she knew she needed to give Harry a stern talking, she secretly reveled in the memory of his closeness. The next kisses had driven her mildly insane, and it had cost her a lot of pain to suggest to Harry to stop this all together, but she knew it was the right thing. Harry doesn't feel that way, she reminded herself. He's just trying to help you out and you are taking advantage of him. You are the worst friend in the world if you keep this up, just because it's what you crave.

And now... Yesterday happened. Christmas Eve. The most happy Christmas Eve of her life, certainly. He had kissed her, he had told her he loved her, he had done all those wonderful things to her body in front of that fireplace. He had allowed her to touch him, to ask questions, to be intimate and vulnerable. And, she recalled, he asked me to be his girlfriend.

She was Harry Potter's girlfriend. She was Harry Potter's girlfriend. SHE WAS HARRY POTTER'S GIRLFRIEND. She wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

She raised her head and looked at him, the boy that lay against her, and she slowly kissed his jawline, as that was the only thing she could reach in this awkward angle. Her heart danced, her mind soared. This was real. Harry Potter was hers, finally, and she would try her hardest to make this relationship as successful as she could. She wouldn't lose him.

'Stop staring at me,' Harry mumbled, gently pushing Hermione's head down.

'I can't help it,' Hermione whispered back. 'You just look so amazing. In my bed.'

Harry chuckled.

'Yeah, I feel pretty smug myself. Can I get a good morning kiss?'

Hermione grinned and obliged happily, crawling on top of him. His mouth was nice and firm, his body feeling comforting and solid underneath her. She placed her legs on the outside of Harry's thighs, and when she connected with his lower body, she felt him. She'd never recognized it before, but now she did. Goodmorning indeed, Mister Potter, she thought, with a slight grin on her face. The hardness both excited and interested her, and she ground slowly against him, making Harry moan in the middle of her kiss. She liked that response, she liked that very much, so she repeated her movement and felt Harry's member grow firmer and firmer with each stroke she made. It made her feel intensely powerful and she liked that.

'You're driving me insane, Hermione,' Harry rasped. She broke the kiss to look at his eyes, that were clouded with lust, and she grinned. Yesterday, they had unleashed a monster, but there was no way she was going to reign it in today.

She grabbed her wand from the nightstand, redid the silencing charm on their door, and began rubbing against him more intensely. Harry now matched her movements, digging his fingers in her hips, as he kissed her deeply and eagerly. She wanted to feel him so badly, and she stopped for a moment to lift Harry's T-shirt from his head. He quickly did the same to her, latching his mouth unto her nipple immediately as the flesh was exposed, tracing circles with his tongue. She moved against him again, but Harry stopped her, turning her on her back with a quite smooth swoop.

'My turn to drive you crazy,' he said with a low baritone, that made her insides squirm. 'Tell me when I'm going too far, okay?'

'You won't,' she said, thinking that the pure bliss that Harry caused her last night was all she wanted to experience again. 'I'm quite certain, you won't.'

And she was right. Harry kissed her face, her neck, her breasts and her stomach, until she thought her skin couldn't get anymore sensitive, his stubble scraping over her skin like the most subtle massage. Then he slowly traced his fingers over her panties and she heard herself make a very embarrassing noise. He slowly drew his index finger in straight lines, up, down, up, down, alongside her opening, soaking the wetness of her core into the fabric of her underwear. It felt so good, so intense, but then again not intense enough, and just when she wanted to plead for him to remove her goddamn knickers for crying out loud, she gently felt something else touching her panties. Harry's tongue.

Oh my God, Hermione thought. Harry softly kissed her privates, being covered by just the flimsiest bit of cotton, and Hermione didn't know if she would be able to take it. On the other hand, she wanted to feel his mouth against her skin, against her skin right there, and she brought her hands towards her underwear to pull it down.

'Oh, I guess someone's ready for the next step,' Harry laughed, but Hermione didn't reciprocate. She wanted him. Lust was serious business.

She thought she had gone mad when she felt Harry plant a very gentle kiss. Then one more, one more, and slowly, his tongue started to open up her folds. It was a very weird feeling, but definitely a good one. She could get used to this. He slowly lapped at her core, taking his time to taste her for the first time, spreading her open for him with his fingers. He was so tender, so goddamn considerate, and his tongue gradually drove her more and more insane, until her entire back arched and she screamed bloody murder. Harry paused for a moment, looking up at her mischievously, and when she settled herself down, he continued. He continued. Hermione wanted to stop him, tell him she couldn't possibly take it, but soon she felt that heat build in her body again and she rolled her eyes back into her head.

'Yesss,' she hissed, placing her hand in Harry's hair, slowly pushing him deeper. Harry obliged, now using one finger to stroke soft rounds on her sensitive nub, and Hermione thought she was bursting. She came again, unexpectedly quick, and yanked at Harry's hair, driving her fingers deep into his skull. Harry groaned against her core, waiting for her orgasm to subside, and then continued again.

'Harry, no, I can't, I really-...'

'You can,' he said, softly. 'And you will.'

Their eyes met - his emerald green eyes, looking so differently without his spectacles - were burning through her soul. Hermione gave in, leaning into the pillows once more, and Harry now lifted one arm under her body, so he could position her better. His administrations were quicker, more adamant this time, and his other hand slowly circled her entrance. Slowly he pushed one finger inside, while he suckled gentle on her post sensitive spot. It felt so weird to have Harry's finger inside of her, but it was also amazing and anything she ever wanted. He curled his finger upwards, familiarizing himself with her body, and suddenly he hit something that sent a jolt to her core. She moaned, deeply, and she felt Harry chuckle against her. His finger, grazing that spot again and again and again, and his tongue and lips idolizing her core, were simply too much. Hermione saw literal stars this last time, body trembling and contracting, and when her climax left her shaking, she felt Harry envelop his arms round her.

'You okay?'

She had no idea where she was, but she knew that she was with Harry, so she nodded, as he smiled and tenderly brought her face towards his and pulled her in for a kiss.

Harry tasted like her, she realized. It was a weird taste, but it was very exciting, and she tried to participate as much in the kiss as her love-drunken state would allow her.

'Merry Christmas, Hermione,' he chuckled confidently. 'This was my first gift of the day. The other you'll find under the tree.'

'Hmm,' she replied, pulling herself as close to him as she could. 'I doubt it will be as good.'

'I've tried me best, actually,' he said. 'You'll see.'

'I want to thank you properly though,' she decided, quickly. 'I want to make you feel good too.'

'Oh, what makes you think you haven't?'

She finally managed to push some of her post-orgasm high out of her head and looked at him smugly.

'It's not the same. Let me get you off.'

'Tonight,' Harry whispered. 'We're late for breakfast already.'

'But you're... You know... Ready for action,' Hermione said, surprised.

Harry laughed and kissed her temple.

'Hermione, you'd be surprised at how many times I'm ready for action. If I'd actually do something all those times, I'd have blisters on my dick.'

Hermione rolled her eyes and stomped his arm.

'Right, I know a nice compromise, then. We'll take a shower together, and if you can make me keep my hands off you-...'

Harry shook his head, laughing loudly.

'Noooo, lady. You need to learn that you don't owe me anything. Believe me: I enjoyed this immensely. I've got a number of mental images that are going to keep me very busy this Christmas dinner, and that's enough for now. We don't want Aunty Penelope to wait that long just because we, you know. Discovered this.'

He kissed her again and jumped out of bed, with a very visible hard-on in his boxershorts. He winked at her.

'But I will definitely take that offer on that shower sometime. That sounds really hot.'

He playfully pulled his boxers down, giving her full view of his erection, and walked into the adjoining bathroom. Hermione sprung up and slammed her hands on the closed door.

'Ever thought about the fact that I also get satisfied from getting you off, idiot?'

She heard him laugh and turn the shower on.

'Harry, I need to pee!'

She heard a deep sigh and then the sound of a spell opening a lock.

'Well, here comes the awkward first moment,' Harry said from behind the shower curtains. 'I'm gonna hear you pee. That's always a milestone. Kind of frightening we've accomplished that in less than 24 hours of getting together.'

'We got engaged minus a month before getting together,' Hermione replied, amused. 'We're not exactly a normal couple.'

She cleaned herself up and flushed the toilet, then opened the shower curtain.

'What are you doing? I told you-...'

'I am just as stubborn as you are, Potter. And it is actually quicker to shower together. Make some room, will you?'

Harry snorted, pulled her close and gave her a big kiss on her cheek.

'Fine. I love you, by the way.'

'I love you too.'