HERMIONE GRANGER PUSHING PREJUDICE ASIDE, ADMITS RELATIONSHIP WITH DRACO MALFOY
8 May 1998
No one expected Muggle-born war heroine Hermione Granger to come to Draco Malfoy's side during his hearing yesterday morning, including Draco himself. Very eager to defend him, when asked to define their relationship, Miss Granger avoided the question and refused to give the Wizengamot a straight answer. It's no secret that the Malfoy family has been purists for generations - what are they trying to hide?
Draco's trial was cut short by an interruption from Narcissa Malfoy herself, who took his full sentence without a trial of her own. Talk about mother of the year! When it was all over, a deservedly distraught Draco was seen sobbing into Miss Granger's arms in a moment of weakness. Miss Granger seemed embarrassed to be so closely watched during this intimate moment. Could it have been due to such a blatant public display of affection? After the trial was over, an extremely protective Granger admitted to "defending a man's honor", even going so far as to tell reporters, "I'm in love with him."
Only time will tell what is to come of this shocking relationship or how long it has been going on. Now that Draco is free from his parents' reign, will he openly pursue a romance with a Muggle-born this soon after He Who Must Not Be Named was defeated once and for all? Mister Malfoy is currently still residing at his family home, while Miss Granger is at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Will this distance help or hurt? Neither party has been available for comment.
Harry Potter's trial is set to begin Monday, and it has not been revealed if they will both be attending. More on what our researchers think Potter's trial will entail on page 14.
Harry had never seen so many copies of the Daily Prophet rain down onto the table at breakfast the next morning - it seemed as if there were more newspapers than students. He figured it was just about the trial or something, so he pushed it aside to continue his conversation with Ron. He'd worry about it later if he was really interested in the reports. That was until he noticed eyes on him.
"What?" he asked nervously.
It was Neville who pushed the paper over open to the front page, where he was greeted by a picture of Hermione and Draco embracing at the trial and a headline that made his blood boil. He barely made it through the first sentence before he was tossing the paper back and getting up from his seat, leaving his half-finished breakfast behind. Harry knew everyone was watching him, so he tried to be as inconspicuous as possible with exactly how he felt. The last thing he needed was more rumors about him, though it might already be too late for that. Once he was out of sight of the Great Hall, he sprinted towards Hermione and Draco's dorm (he'd have to find a better phrase for that - Head Dorms?) and stood in front of the portrait.
"I need to see Hermione."
The wizard in the grey robes looked like he was still half asleep. "Sorry, Harry, I know you've still got claim here, but I can't open while two students are occupying unless you're staff. Not my rules," he said with a yawn.
"Well, that seems like a dumb rule. Wait, what do you mean, I've still got claim? I gave Draco that badge, but it's still mine? I mean, brilliant, but that doesn't make-"
But Harry was cut off as the painting swung open to reveal an exhausted-looking and scowling Hermione, arms crossed over her chest, still in her pajamas.
"Hermione-"
She moved towards him and he instinctively backed away until his back slammed against the wall opposite the portrait.
"You complete arse! How dare you give him your badge without even consulting with me first! You know this is my safe space and I told you I had panic attacks when I was alone and yet you just let someone into my room and you don't even tell me!" Her fingers were poking and prodding into his chest, and he did his best to grab her wrists to get her to calm down, but it wasn't working. There were tears in her eyes. He hadn't seen her this mad in a long time, and the guilt hit him like a train. This was utterly and completely his fault.
"I'm - ow! - I'm sorry, Hermione, okay? I - stop! - tried to look for you, but - ow! Hermione! Listen to me!"
"No, you listen to me, Harry James Potter. If you ever do something like this again, I will make sure that my wand goes so far up your-"
"What's going on?"
Draco was the last person he really wanted to see, but based on the way the tail end of Hermione's sentence was going, he was grateful for the interruption; he didn't need a demonstration.
"I just came to get Hermione," Harry explained now that he could talk.
"What are you, her keeper?" Draco almost had a smirk on his face as he stepped out of the portrait, just trying to pick a fight in his bloody grey shirt and green pajama pants. He really did wake up and choose to be a prick every day, didn't he?
"No!" they answered at the same time, and Hermione pulled herself from Harry's grasp quickly, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.
"I wanted to see you before you both came down to breakfast. You… probably shouldn't go together."
"Why, what's going on? What happened?" Hermione asked; Harry saw her hand twitch, ready to reach for her wand, but Harry's silence seemed to give her a clue. "It's not the Prophet is it?" Harry nodded. "Fuck."
Harry and Draco exchanged shocked glances at such a casual use of the word. "What have you done to her?"
"Don't blame me, Potter. I've never heard her say that. Didn't even know she knew that word."
"I've heard it plenty of times. Totally different context, though," Harry muttered before Hermione held her hand up, a glint of a grin on her face.
"Okay, let's just file that under things I never wanted to think about," Draco interrupted.
"Please let me stay mad at you, Harry. Just for a moment. Honestly. You… can you even imagine how I felt when I came in here last night after… well, after all that at dinner and then he's here?! Just the sight of him gave me a panic attack."
"Thanks."
"Look, I'm sorry, Hermione. Really. I just thought that since you knew he was coming…"
"That I'd what? Expect to be sharing a room with him?!"
"Well, where else was he going to go?"
"I don't know, Harry! That's why you were supposed to talk to me! I might not have minded as much if you'd just asked instead of setting him up here! And then you were jealous! Why on earth would you put him in a room with me and get so accusatory of me caring where he is?! You're not making any sense, Harry! It's like you want me to snog him or something just so you'll have an excuse to be angry!"
"Merlin, I'm tired of the two of you already and I just woke up." Draco shook his head, walking between Harry and Hermione to separate them. "Get a hold of yourselves, will you? I don't care who I go to breakfast with, if I'm being honest. If you want to stay up here and fight, be my guest. Just don't use my bed for any of the making up."
"Oh, it's your bed now."
Draco sighed quickly, turning to him. "Yes, Potter, it's been my bed ever since you gave me that badge. If you'd like, you can share hers though since you were apparently able to get in there and I wasn't."
Was that Harry's vision tunneling or was the hallway starting to cave in? "You tried?!"
"Bloody hell, Potter. Just drop it. If you left her in there with me to have a panic attack, you're the one that has to deal with your own damn consequences." He looked at Hermione before reaching out to briefly touch her shoulder. She nodded once, and Draco moved past them and stormed off towards the stairs, muttering about putting firewhiskey in his coffee.
"Why was he trying to get into your room?" The question had been directed at Hermione before he could stop it, and he winced.
"Are you serious, Harry?"
"I'm sorry," he corrected. "I just… I feel like nothing I say is coming out right and it's weird to see him touching you and that makes me… anxious and I can't think straight."
"Yeah, well, me too." Hermione dropped her arms to her side, her shoulders relaxing the smallest amount. "He was just helping me to bed, that's all."
"He didn't… hurt you or anything, did he?"
"No. No, of course not. It was… strange, actually. He just kind of… held me for a bit. Like…" She cast her eyes down to the floor.
"Like I do."
"You're going to have to let me figure this all out, Harry, if you're not going to be here."
He swallowed thickly, feeling himself starting to get antsy. "I… I didn't know it was that bad…"
"Not all of us can survive on potions and adrenaline," Hermione muttered.
Harry was silent for a moment. He wanted to be mad at Hermione for shaming his coping mechanisms, but that's all they were - coping mechanisms. It was in moments like these when the nerves came back, when he started to fidget, when he felt like he didn't belong in this body. The potions helped, and the adrenaline helped, but he knew neither of them would fix the problem. They couldn't fix him and they wouldn't fix Hermione. She looked hopeless, and all Harry could picture was the first night at Shell Cottage when they were getting into the shower and Hermione had just cried into his chest, holding onto him like they'd already lost. Even now, her eyes were beginning to shine with more tears, and Harry instinctively pulled her in again.
She took a deep breath, wrapping her arms around his waist as she buried her face into his neck, her lips barely ghosting against his skin.
"This is so much better," she whispered. "What did the Prophet say?"
"I don't think you want to know… let's just say it, uh, took some of your words out of context and made some very bold conclusions."
Hermione groaned. "Just leave me in the Room of Requirement for the rest of my life. You can bring me food."
"We can't have any alone time, remember?" he grinned.
"What's this, then?"
"Me struggling. A lot."
She pulled away to wipe her eyes. He could see the wheels turning in her head, trying to figure out her next step as her eyes moved to his lips. "We never said kissing wasn't allowed anymore," he reminded her.
"Well, I mean it does help me a lot, you know." She swallowed, still staring. "Being close to you and all."
He'd kissed her last time, so he wanted her to make the decision now. But all he could do was watch her eyes. Please. God, what had this come to that he was begging her to kiss him? It was like any time they were close like this, kissing her was the only reasonable thing to do. They really were bad at being broken up.
Her lips were on his for only a couple seconds barely enough time to register as a kiss, but long enough that when she stepped back, he followed, and his hands pulled her closer.
"Harry…" she warned, but it didn't sound like she meant it. "We… breakfast."
"Right."
"You have to let me go, Harry."
"Oh. Right, yeah. Sorry."
Hermione pulled away with a small smile, wiping her eyes again and gesturing for him to follow as they walked towards the Great Hall.
"Do you know if something's up between Lavender and Neville?" Harry asked, trying to keep conversation going, but steer the subject away from them. "They were sitting awfully close this morning." Gossip was good and safe, especially when it was about their friends. Besides the quiet halls, it felt like school all over again.
"I don't know," Hermione laughed. "She's been talking about him a lot, but Lavender and I have been a little rocky. She doesn't like that I'm defending Draco-"
"Who does?" Harry asked with a smirk.
"Look, you asked a question and I'm answering, okay? I can't figure out if she wants to be nice to me or not, but I've decided once Kingsley is officially in office, I want to help her. And not just her - I'm sure there are people all over the country going through the same thing right now because of this war. Who knows how many werewolves could be wandering around, helpless and terrified because they don't know what's going to happen to them? I just feel so bad."
Harry remembered the werewolf in Godric's Hollow - that one didn't seem terrified at all. "Well, you shouldn't. It's not your fault."
"I know it's not, but-"
"And you're not responsible for them, okay? It's rubbish, I know. But you've already got a lot you're trying to deal with right now. I don't want you taking on so much that you forget about yourself."
"Well, we're about to be getting a lot of publicity, and if I don't use it for doing some good, it'll feel like a waste."
Harry groaned - he'd nearly forgotten about the press conferences he was sure would be lining up after his trial was over. Maybe during, he wouldn't put it past them. McGonagall had done a good job of keeping things under wraps, but it wouldn't stay like that forever.
"Are you nervous?" she suddenly asked.
"Terrified."
Hermione reached for his hand. "We're all behind you, Harry. I know I've said it a thousand times, but it's true. I don't care what the bloody Prophet has to say about it. You've gone over what you're going to say, haven't you?"
"Erm… not exactly."
"Harry, don't do this again!" Hermione said with an exasperated sigh. "You need to be prepared so they don't catch you off guard! Do you know how many times I rehearsed what I was going to say in my head?"
"What's to catch me off guard? What's to debate? I killed Voldemort. What more could they need?"
"You know exactly what they're going to try to pin you for, Harry."
"Yeah, well, that's exactly what I did, isn't it? I can't say I'm not guilty, Hermione. I don't want to talk about it."
"But Harry-"
"Hermione, I'm not going to talk about it."
There it was again. He wrenched his hand from Hermione's grip to wipe it on his jeans, but didn't look at her. He knew what he would see, and it wouldn't do him any good. Neither would worrying about this hearing - it was happening whether he was ready or not. Why should he stress over it? This was just like an exam, he kept telling himself, and he'd already studied as hard as he felt he could. He'd be better off answering their questions honestly. He didn't want to remember long, complicated sentences and excuses like Hermione had. He didn't want to read about the laws he'd broken, and he didn't want her to do that for him, either. Of course, he couldn't stop her, but he hoped his attitude would dissuade her a little bit if nothing else. He had two days before he'd know the fate of probably the rest of his life, and he didn't want to spend those two days on edge. He was already anxious as it was.
"I just…" she took in a shaky breath next to him, "I'm so scared, Harry. I'm terrified that… that these next two days will be… I don't know."
"The last two days you'll see me for a while?"
Hermione sniffed, plastering herself against him and stopping him in his tracks. "I'm sorry, Harry, I just can't stand thinking about it. I already had a hard enough time thinking I'd lost you during the battle and now I'm just afraid I'm going to lose you all over again, except this time you'll just be in Azkaban, and you're too young for Azkaban, Harry! And you didn't do anything wrong! And even if I come visit you, I won't be able to see you and-"
"Hermione…" He squeezed her tightly, moving a hand up into her hair and rubbing her back with the other until her breaths became a little more even. Hearing the possibility out loud suddenly weighed heavily on his heart. Of course he didn't want that. He didn't want to do that to her. Would she be right? Was thinking he was dead easier than knowing he was in Azkaban?
It wouldn't matter what their relationship was - if they were together or not - by the time he got there. And yes, he'd jokingly thought how much easier it would be to stay away from her if he were in Azkaban, but that wasn't what he wanted. Obviously. He wanted to heal with her, wear her down again, stop her from having panic attacks when she needed him. And right now, he felt like she needed him. His shirt tightened with her grip, pulling him as flush to her body as possible. The contrast between this and five minutes ago when she was backing him into the wall conveyed even more proof that Hermione had been keeping this all bottled up. Why hadn't she told him? Why hadn't she let him help her?
Maybe his own emotions were still stunted and he hadn't been able to pick up any signals she'd given him. It was a definite possibility, since he still felt most like himself when he was either with her or, now, flying around, but that still didn't give him an excuse. Suddenly, he felt something that was new for the past week: guilt. He should have pushed. He should have asked. He shouldn't have suggested that they avoid each other because he was too weak to be there for her when she had no trouble being there for him.
Weak.
He'd been weak when he saw her hug Draco.
He was weak when he'd seen their picture in the paper.
He'd been too weak to admit she was probably right when she said Lia was flirting with him. He hadn't noticed, but he just kept telling Hermione she was wrong.
He hadn't even asked before invading her safe space with someone who had been nothing but nasty to her up until recently.
He'd taken the easy way out with Voldemort, hadn't he? He killed him in the easiest way possible. Clean. No other outcome. No thinking.
But he wasn't going to be weak now.
His hands moved to their usual spot under her shirt on her lower back, holding a little tighter than usual and making sure she remained pressed against him.
"Harry…" she whispered, and when she opened her eyes to look up at him, her irises were a deep chocolate and shining again, the way he'd come to know they did when she wanted… "This isn't enough." It was an admission to herself, too, that had finally broken free.
Harry's mouth went dry. He swallowed thickly. She wasn't just talking about what she was feeling right now; she was talking about their entire relationship. And she was absolutely right - it wasn't enough. They weren't too far from their - Hermione's - dorm, and it wouldn't take much to…
If he was going to Azkaban anyway, once more wouldn't hurt, would it?
He pulled away only to grab her hand and drag her back down the hall while she eagerly followed. She had so many strong feelings that when they started to bubble over, when they threatened to drown her, she had no one. She'd been dealing with them alone, but this… no, Harry would take some of them. He needed them. Would gladly welcome those feelings to fill the absence of his own.
"Let him in, Crowley. I'm allowing it, badge or not," Hermione demanded as they approached the wizard in the portrait. He just grinned at her, shaking his head but swinging open either way.
"What happened in here?" were the first words out of Harry's mouth as they stepped through the hole. He wasn't expecting half of the common room to look like the Slytherin dungeons. It didn't look bad, necessarily, as the castle seemed to know how to fuse the décor well, but he couldn't help but notice the difference.
"Apparently, the common room changes depending on what house the Head Boy and Head Girl are from. Didn't realize that until Draco got here. That's why for both of us, it just looked like the Gryffindor one."
"Huh." Things suddenly became quiet and awkward - was Hermione having second thoughts about this? He noticed her eyes glance towards her room. "Do you… think I could still come in?"
"Only one way to find out," she whispered, grabbing his hand again and taking a breath. Harry just nodded, worried that if he said anything, they'd start talking again, and if they started talking, they'd change their minds.
As it turned out, he had no trouble getting into Hermione's room, and he saw her eyebrows furrow slightly as she tried to figure it out. She eyed him up and down, then the door, before Harry swung it closed behind him.
So much for no alone time.
In a flash, her hands were on him, pushing his shirt up and over his head. She took a deep breath, and Harry used the few seconds to look for any hesitation in her eyes.
For once, there was none. They should talk about it, though. He'd just realized that he couldn't be the solution to her panic attacks, and she'd agreed with him. So what the hell were they doing? Why were they still drawn to each other like this?
Because it was safe. They had become each other's safe spaces when it was all they had, when everything was dangerous except each other. It was instinct.
It was clear she needed this as much as he did, and when he didn't complain, she stepped close again, reaching to unbutton his pants.
He had always loved when Hermione took initiative, and just having her hands anywhere below the belt already had him half-hard. It took everything he had to keep it together as she unzipped him and reached in, eagerly wrapping her fingers around him. Harry gasped audibly, having forgotten how much he'd missed it. His eyes fluttered shut, but she just leaned in to kiss his neck and his brain nearly turned off.
"Hermione," he moaned into her ear. Harry fumbled a little to reach for her pajama pants, thanking whoever was listening that he didn't have to worry about buttons or zippers - he was afraid he wouldn't be able to focus.
"God, I missed hearing that," she whispered. Her free hand tugged his waistband down, and he caught on quickly to help, pushing his pants and underwear to his ankles and stepping out of them, shivering.
"You're wearing far too many clothes, I think. Not… not quite fair." He whined when Hermione's hand disappeared from around him, but he opened his eyes and she was biting her lip.
"Get on the bed."
She didn't have to tell him twice. He pushed the blankets out of the way and laid down, holding himself up on his elbows to watch her. She didn't put on much of a show, but the more skin she revealed, the more he let his eyes wander. He was allowed to do that right now. Her shirt came off first, falling to the floor next to his own. Her bra followed, then her pants, leaving her in just panties. His gaze caught on the couple of bruises that hadn't fully faded yet, mentally cataloging them so he'd know where not to press. Just the thought of being able to touch her wherever he wanted again was making his heart rate skyrocket. He needed to calm down; it had only been a week.
"I forgot how beautiful you were without clothes on," Harry muttered.
Hermione replied with a smirk, though her cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink. "No you didn't."
Harry raised his eyebrows, shifting on the bed. He could feel the confidence coming from her, and he briefly wondered what she was thinking about - what scenario she was putting on them. He'd have to clean up Grimmauld Place and take her there. Alone time that wasn't in the castle or the tent would be heavenly. Domestic. Which he probably shouldn't be thinking about right now. The point they were at right now was anything but domestic. He wouldn't be able to accept the fact that they weren't in a relationship if all he thought about was what it would be like for them to be married or living together.
Harry got the feeling that Hermione was struggling between wanting to draw things out and not wanting more time to think about it, but in the end, she walked slowly over to the bed and settled one knee up on it before straddling Harry's hips. He bucked up for contact, and watched as her own eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of him through the fabric.
She leaned forward to kiss him, pushing him down flat, resting one hand on the pillow next to his head and raking the other through his hair, twirling her fingers through some of the strands. He'd been thinking about cutting it now that he had the chance, but the way she was playing with it was changing his mind. Clearly, this was working for him.
Her tongue was in his mouth and his hands were sliding over her shoulders, down her arms, down her sides to rest on her hips, fighting the urge to hold her in place. Hermione moaned, and he felt it vibrate against his lips, but it didn't last long before she was pulling away and kissing over his jaw and neck, peppering kisses over his chest as her hands moved lower, and then she was holding him down against the bed by his thighs.
If he was being honest, he couldn't remember the last time she'd gone down on him. Not that his memory had been working the best lately, but he knew it had been a while. Not because she didn't enjoy it, but she usually got so impatient that by the time they got their clothes off, all she wanted was him to be inside of her now . He never complained; both were amazing. It was all amazing, and once her mouth was on him, he realized how utterly mad he was to think he'd be okay with avoiding each other.
She started slowly bobbing her head and Harry's eyes fluttered closed as a whine - yes, whine - made it out into the air. The fingers that normally twirled through her curls gripped them tightly, guiding her head up and down at a rhythm that wasn't going to have him coming before he even started. It was slower than it probably should be, and he really hoped Draco wouldn't come back in here with the noises he was making, and he only realized how much even the split second thinking about it affected him until Hermione pulled off, her confidence threatening to fizzle out.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Nothing. Sorry. Just… I got distracted for a second, but it's not you, I swear," Harry quickly corrected, letting his gaze take in the way her breasts were hanging down, her nipples centimeters away from grazing against his thighs as her ass lifted into the air until he got hard again, which admittedly took no time at all, and he was shifting to thrust up against her. God, he wanted to just take her nippes into his mouth. Soon, he promised himself. "Keep going, please…"
Hermione took a breath, centering herself. "Well, only because you asked nicely."
Harry grinned, settling back on the pillow and focusing on the warmth that quickly enveloped him again. "You're so good at that."
Hermione just hummed in response, rubbing his thighs gently as she moved her head a little faster. Harry felt like his head was swimming, the room was spinning. He tugged on Hermione's hair and she moaned around him, sending a wave of pleasure through his body. He so desperately wanted to tell her to hurry up, but he had a feeling that would just make her go slower, and he wasn't exactly sure if he'd enjoy that or not. What he didn't want to do was finish before she was done.
He only had to wait a few more torturous seconds until she pulled off with a hum, finishing by licking a strip up the underside, sliding her tongue over that spot that made him shudder. "Fuck," he whispered. "I'd love to return the favor…"
"I had something else in mind, if that's okay with you." Hermione grinned, climbing back up his body and kissing him again.
"Mmhmm. Very," Harry muttered against her lips.
She pulled away just enough to speak, but not enough that Harry could see her face. "Next time?"
He swallowed - it meant that for once, she didn't want this to be it. She was giving in. It hadn't been as difficult to wear her down as he thought it would have been, and a swell of pride filled his chest at the insinuation. "Next time," he agreed.
"Good." Hermione reached down to wrap her hand around him again and line herself up, stroking a couple times to draw another moan from him. He knew she liked hearing him just as much as he loved hearing her.
Harry held his breath in anticipation, and a few seconds later, she was sinking down onto him, and it was like the Earth opened up and swallowed him in the best way possible. Colors danced across his vision, blues and purples darting and colliding until he opened his eyes again and swore those colors were deep in her irises, too. Or maybe they were just reflections from his; he couldn't tell, but the way that she was looking at him was a clear indicator that things were different, that she'd felt something. But it vanished just as quickly as it appeared and her eyes closed with pleasure again as she began rocking her hips back at forth.
"God, Harry…"
After a moment, she started to move faster, and Harry reached up to pull her towards him. She whined at the change of angle, but didn't complain when his tongue swiped over her nipple and he started to thrust up into her. Her legs began to shake as Harry lost himself in the feeling of her all around him again: the warmth of her skin under his fingers, the way she clenched around him with every suck on her nipple, the electricity that was pouring out of her and channeling into him, overriding his senses, which would send energy back into her. He could almost see it, and if he didn't know any better, he would think it looked a lot like what he'd imagine a magical bond reconnecting would look like. But it was too late for that, wasn't it? This just had to be because they were so overdue, so passionate, so still hopelessly in love with each other that their bodies couldn't help but connect like this.
Hermione's moans pitched higher, and her clenching started to become more sporadic, so Harry picked up the pace, desperate to give her exactly what she needed. A few seconds later, he held her upright as she toppled over the edge, rocking her hips again to ride it out and pulling his hair so hard that he winced, but she didn't apologize. She was too far into her own pleasure to even care, and he didn't mind. The way his name sounded when she came was too beautiful for him to mind. But he needed more. The second one never was too far behind the first if he tried hard enough.
He pulled her hips down flush with his again, reveling in the gasp that tore from her throat as she opened her eyes wide to look at him. Her pupils were so dilated, her cheeks were flushed, a couple loose curls were sticking to her forehead and neck with the effort. Her chest was quickly reddening, but her jaw was relaxed, her shoulders weren't tense. She clenched around him again, body already impatient and desperate for more as well.
Slowly, helping her pick up speed though she was tired, he rocked her hips on himself, shifting to get the angle that brought his name from her lips again. He missed fucking her. Of course, he missed making love to her, too, and everything in between, but he missed fucking her. After the frequency at Shell Cottage, he hadn't realized how withdrawn he'd been. He missed the sound of their skin slapping together, how their sweaty bodies slipped against each other more than they wanted, and the way she would kiss him right after she came. It was always slow and tired. So when she took over and shoved her tongue into his mouth again, he knew she wasn't done, either.
Harder. Faster. More desperate. He could feel his own orgasm on the cusp, and hers was coming up again quickly, if he could read her right. She circled, changing the angle and teasing him with a new feeling until she reminded him who was in charge.
"Come for me, Harry."
He saw stars again as he exploded inside her, panting and holding her down to bury himself as deep as possible. She was right behind him, panting heavily and clamping down around him so hard, he wasn't sure he could even pull out if he tried. He felt her teeth bite down on his shoulder, and the pain made him twitch again, eliciting another moan into his skin. He wished he could do this all fucking day.
She kissed him (slowly, of course, which threatened to get him hard again) as she finally released him, but made no move to slide him out. Every few seconds, he'd feel her walls flutter around him, and he just kept trying to breathe, savoring it. She'd said there'd be a next time, but there was no telling how long that would be, especially since she was now sharing a room, which Harry was regretting more and more by the breath.
Eventually, when he started to soften and slip out of her, she dismounted with a groan at the stretch in her hips and collapsed down next to him, pressing kisses to his shoulder and tangling their limbs as they let the rest of the world fill back in.
It only took a few minutes for Hermione's whisper to flutter into the air with the exact phrase he knew he was going to hear: "We shouldn't have done that."
His heart was too full to really care, so he just grinned, rolling over to look at her, and found that she was smiling, too. Her eyes looked truly golden, worth more than any stupid goblin could take from his vault. "I know," he replied. "Do you regret it?" Her face gave away the answer, but he wanted to hear her say it.
"Never." A pause. "Do you?"
"Of course not. I just… know it'll make things harder for us, I think. But maybe easier in some ways."
"How do you feel right now?"
"Right now? In this very moment?" He could almost see the blue and purples dancing in her eyes again. "Happy. Honestly, truly happy." For the first time since the battle, he realized, so he reached his arm to pull her closer, pressing her against his side.
"Me too," she sighed. "I kind of hate it."
"Me too. Not being happy, just…"
"That it's taking this to get there." Harry nodded in agreement. "Yeah."
"We should probably get ourselves cleaned up," Harry muttered, twirling a strand of hair around his finger.
Hermione couldn't help but laugh, burying her face into Harry's shoulder.
"What?" he asked, feeling his own smile get wider at the sound.
"I just can't believe it only took us a week."
"Well, we've been kissing so much lately."
"Not my fault."
"Are you kidding?" Harry teased. "It's totally your fault. You're the one who kept saying we'd be fine, remember?"
Hermione smirked, prying herself from Harry's arms and stretching her legs as she got out of bed. "I said no such thing. Shower with me?"
"Probably not a good idea if I want to leave this dorm anytime soon." Nevertheless, he sat up, reaching for his wand to clean himself off.
"That easy to get worked up, Potter?"
"For you, absolutely… Granger."
Hermione's nose scrunched as she looked over at him, stopping before she got to the bathroom. "Okay, you're never allowed to call me that. It feels gross."
"Yeah, it felt weird for me, too. Never again," he laughed.
"Good. I guess I'll, uh… be right out, then."
Harry nodded, his eyes glued firmly to her ass until it was out of view. He should have squeezed it more. Had he touched it at all? He groaned, falling back onto the bed. He should have taken his time. Now, he was just even more worried about landing himself in Azkaban. Perfect.
By the time they both cleaned themselves up and went down to breakfast, a couple of the students had already left, but the Great Hall had become a great communal place for students from all the houses. It was somewhere they could sit and talk without having to worry about the usual noise of mealtimes. Someone had even convinced McGonagall to only set up one table and conjure up couches, bean bag chairs, rugs, blankets, and smaller tables in the rest of the room, which make it look a lot cozier.
Hermione nudged Harry's arm as they entered, tilting her head over to one of the loveseats, where Neville was sitting and reading a book with Lavender's legs over his lap while she did the same.
"Remember when we used to sit like that?" Harry asked fondly, fighting the urge to wrap his hand around her waist and kiss her cheek.
"You've already worn me down, okay? I don't need reminiscing, either. They do look cute together, though. Don't you think?"
"Yeah. Maybe the second cutest couple in the room," Harry smirked. Probably not the best response, but he couldn't help it. He was on a high of emotions, of feelings, of love. He felt like he'd drank an entire bottle of Felix Felicis in one go, like he could do anything, like nothing could ruin his day.
Hermione let out a breath that wasn't quite a sigh. "Harry, just because we did that doesn't mean that I'm ready for a relationship again. I hope you understand that."
"Oh, I know," he explained, sticking his hand in his pockets to further dampen his urge to touch her again in whatever way he could. "I just couldn't pass up the opportunity for the comment. Honestly!" Harry continued at the raise of her eyebrows. "I'm… I'm just fine with us not being together."
He led her to the long table and sat down next to her, but nothing appeared in front of him immediately since he'd already eaten. Katie appeared out of the corner of his eye and settled down at the table next to Hermione. "Hey!" she greeted both of them, looking more alert and happy than she had the last time Harry'd seen her. Good for her. Or maybe it was just the "everything is amazing" lens he had on right now.
"Katie! Hi." Hermione's gaze flicked to Harry quickly before she shifted a little in her seat. Harry fought the urge to grin at the both of them as they had some kind of unspoken conversation.
"So I suppose you saw that you made the front page this morning," Katie teased, and Hermione's fork dropped back down to her plate.
"The front page?!" She turned to Harry. "You didn't tell me I was on the front page. "
"You didn't ask," Harry replied with a shrug as a mug of coffee appeared in front of him, and he was suddenly glad for something to do with his hands.
Katie summoned one of the papers from down the table and slid it in front of Hermione. "This is hilarious. I didn't know they were this desperate for stories."
Harry's mug hit the table, and he felt himself start to get angry again as he watched Hermione's eyes read over the words he'd seen earlier. To his surprise, though, she also started to laugh, though not quite as much as Katie was. She'd been so upset at the prospect of them saying anything yesterday, even this morning, but now… it really felt like she couldn't care less. She looked up at him with a glint in her eye.
"I thought it was serious," she explained, setting the paper back down. "Not this… tabloid rubbish. If it's all like this, it'll blow over once your trial starts, I think. Once they have something worth reporting on."
"You think my trial will be worth reporting on?"
"Of course it will be. Which is why I keep telling you that you need to-"
"Potter, glad you could join us again," Draco's voice sliced through the soft chatter, and Harry tried not to notice the way it fell even quieter as he moved towards their table, not that Draco really seemed to care. He sat down on Hermione's other side, a little closer than Harry would have liked. "Looks like the two of you made up… just please tell me you didn't use my bed. Honestly. Or the couch, because I'd hate to have to replace it if either of your bare arses had been on it."
Harry nearly choked on his coffee. He looked at Katie, who was gaping at Hermione. Hermione's cheeks quickly turned red and she scooted a little further away from Draco.
"There's no way you can tell that," she muttered, avoiding eye contact with any of them as she pushed the bits of food left on her plate.
"Oh, please, Granger. Think I haven't seen that look on a girl's face before? You didn't think I was a virgin, did you?" he smirked, pulling the paper over and looking over the picture of the two of them.
There was something utterly infuriating about Draco even thinking about Hermione's face looking like something he'd done himself, and his grip tightened on the handle of his mug, so hard that he thought he might break it if Draco pushed him much further.
"That's… actually something I can easily say I've never thought about in my life," Hermione replied.
"Well, you know Slytherins are all about power, yeah? Shagging one of the… how did they put it last year… 'most influential young men in the Wizarding World' will do wonders for your reputation." He raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that right, Bell?" He leaned back behind Hermione to look at Katie, whose eyebrows furrowed heavily with something akin to disgust. Served him right.
"I'm sorry?!"
"Thought I heard something about you and Blaise going around. You sure you're in the right house?"
Katie's mouth gaped open as she looked around quickly before turning back to Harry and Hermione. "No, I… I have no idea what the hell you're talking about," she answered honestly. "That was probably just to try to get our team a weakness during a Quidditch match, Malfoy. I've never even looked twice at Blaise. You know how I feel about Slytherins, especially those that are friends of yours."
Draco shrugged again, turning back to the paper before folding it neatly and setting it down on the table in front of him. "Pity. Anyway, that's the unfortunate truth of being powerful, rich, and attractive, I suppose."
"That's a despicable reason to sleep with someone," Hermione defended.
"Yes, well, I didn't mind all of them. Not completely. But… most of the time, I had different intentions," Draco admitted.
"You're telling me you actually wanted a girlfriend?" Harry scoffed. Draco never seemed like the boyfriend type. Too arrogant, too selfish, too dismissive of anyone else unless he was involved. Case in point, the reason he was currently sitting at their table. He'd never seen his face this many times before noon, and he desperately hoped he wouldn't have to get used to it.
Draco turned from Hermione to face him, leaning his elbows on the table. "Yes, Potter. Contrary to what you might believe, I am actually capable of romance."
"Yeah, well, I can't imagine that being a Death Eater is exactly prime boyfriend material," he quipped.
Hermione gasped. "Harry!" she whispered.
"No, it's fine, Granger. Actually, it kind of made it worse. Witches are mental. Honestly, I thought you'd be in a better mood, though, Potter. What's that making me infer about her skill?" He shot a cheeky wink at Hermione, who just blushed harder, and Harry knew that blush was going straight down to her chest.
His eyes narrowed and he leaned on the table towards him, not wanting to start something - publicly, at least. Not with his trial coming up in a couple days. "You're not inferring anything about her, Malfoy."
Draco just sighed. "Shame. As the new love of her life," he gestured to the paper, "I thought I might get a taste of what to expect."
"Oh my God," Hermione groaned, her face falling into her hands. Katie was trying not to laugh so hard it looked like she might hurt herself, clearly trying her best not to give Draco any satisfaction. They still weren't on good terms, as far as Harry knew.
"I fucking hate you," Harry growled.
"And I hate you. Glad we're still on the same page. You're just so easy to get worked up. It's brilliant. Although, I must say, Granger, we do look pretty damn good together, don't you think?"
"I'm not talking to you anymore, Draco. Can't I just finish my breakfast in peace?" she sighed, but there was no malice behind it.
"Finally got enough of me, have you?"
"I got enough of you last night." She closed her eyes again and sighed. "Not what I meant." But Draco was already smirking.
"Bet you did, Granger. I'll go, though, before Potter murders me, too."
Harry felt like something was erupting in his chest, and before he could even consider not doing it, his mug was flying across the table towards Draco, who had to duck out of the way. But it was clear in Draco's eyes that Harry had made his point. Too far. Harry was shocked he hadn't done anything worse, especially considering that his wand was within reach. But no, he couldn't hurt him. Not yet. The look of horror in Hermione's face made him sit back and focus his eyes down on the table. Draco got up silently and walked out of the Great Hall, hands shoved in his pockets. It wasn't until the chatter had picked up again that Hermione spoke up.
"Harry, you can't-"
"I know, Hermione! I know! He just… it's like he's kind of decent sometimes but most of the time, he's just… God, I can't stand him even being here and it's only been one night. I can't believe I gave that prick the Head Boy badge."
"You what? " Katie piped up, leaning in closer. "I let you go for two days and I miss out on all of this?! What happened?!"
"Harry graciously gave Draco the Head Boy badge so that he'd have a safe place to stay," Hermione quickly explained, reaching over the table to place a hand on Harry's, which somehow seemed to calm him down enough for his jaw to relax. "That's all, really. And that story is just… they're trying to make something out of nothing. There's just a lot going on and we're all a little stressed." She pointed a look at Harry that was only slightly bettered by how truly beautiful she looked again, even angry.
"Some of us more than others," he responded, pulling out his wand and pointing at the mess of broken cup and spilled coffee, quickly vanishing and cleaning it.
"Well, I hope you've learned your lesson then."
Harry sighed. What had happened? In the week since the battle (God, had it only been a week?), they'd gone to funerals, attended trials, Harry found that his willpower was useless against Hermione, he'd gotten a new owl, declined several invitations to meet Teddy - something he most definitely wasn't ready for - made multiple trips to the Burrow, taken countless potions, found his love for flying again, probably hadn't taken enough showers or really eaten enough, cried more than he had in a long time, but (especially recently) he'd felt happier than he'd been in at least two years when he was happy, though it was a rarity. All that in a week. The thought was making his head spin. And they weren't even close to being done.
"Harry?" he heard Hermione call, and her hand was squeezing his again.
When he looked up, he could see that her and Katie were both looking at him, slightly concerned. Had they been trying to get his attention? "Sorry," he muttered quickly. "Just… spaced out a bit. Do you think Teddy's all right?"
His sudden question made Hermione's eyes seem to soften a little more.
"Teddy?" Katie asked.
"He's Remus and Tonks's son. They… made Harry his godfather, but his grandmother's raising him. She's… I think she's written a couple letters to Harry but, um…"
"I get it," Katie answered, so that Hermione didn't have to continue.
"I think he's fine, Harry," she said softly, and Harry knew she was right.
Teddy wasn't really old enough to remember his parents, and he knew he wouldn't turn into him, but deep down, he couldn't help but worry. Andromeda would be good to him. Teddy would know exactly what happened to his parents, not kept in the dark. He'd know about magic and Quidditch and Hogwarts. And he'd have a godfather that he'd see. Harry would make sure of it. He swallowed and nodded, squeezing Hermione's hand back. "Yeah. Yeah, he is. I just…"
"I know, Harry." She looked down at their hands, playing with his fingers a little like she missed it.
Whatever trail of thought Harry was on, it was quickly derailed with the arrival of Crookshanks galloping into the Great Hall with Artemis right behind him. Hermione let go of Harry's hand quickly and stood up to see where she could help, but the two animals zipped right past her before Artemis gained height and Crookshanks, taking advantage of nothing on the tables, sprang up to try to bat at him. Eventually, Artemis flew up into the rafters and settled onto a perch, and Crookshanks finally gave up, jumping back down onto the floor and settling by Hermione's legs.
"We've got to teach those two some manners," Hermione sighed, sitting back down while Katie stayed slack-jawed.
"Yes, he's my owl," Harry announced loudly, so that everyone else who was staring could hear as well.
"He's-"
"Huge. I know." Harry grinned, looking under the table at his own legs to find Crookshanks slinking around them. "Hey, buddy." He reached down to scratch under the cat's chin for a few seconds. "Well, I'm glad Artemis made it. I was starting to worry about him."
As they finished up the rest of their food, McGonagall joined them in the Great Hall, accompanied by a woman in a light blue dress. "Everyone!" she called, smiling when the few faces turned. "As I'm sure you've seen her around this morning, I wanted to officially introduce the newest member of our staff. This is Selene Greenwood. She'll be starting full time as our mind healer. There are scheduling sheets outside of every common room that will be updated each morning with available appointments. They will also be anonymous - your name will disappear as soon as you sign as will the time slot, so please don't be afraid to seek her out. We've run numerous background checks on Miss Greenwood and I personally conducted a grueling interview with her last week. With everything that's gone on and will continue to go on, she has agreed to stay as long as we need her. Her office will be on the second floor. Selene, would you like to say any words?"
She stepped forward, and Harry immediately felt a presence wash over the room that relaxed his shoulders and jaw.
"All I can say right now is that I'm truly honored to be here and to have Minerva's trust in helping you all. I'm looking forward to meeting you all and getting to know you and your needs, whatever they may be from me. I'm so proud of all of you for standing on this side of the war and supporting each other, and, well, I'm glad you're all able to be sitting here. My first appointment of the day is at one. Sorry to interrupt your breakfast." She bowed her head slightly, and she and McGonagall left the room. Everyone's eyes locked with each other for a moment, no one really knowing what to do or wanting to be the first to admit they needed her help. Except for one - the only reason Hermione stopped looking at him was so that she could stand, confidently walking to the appointment sheet they'd left at the head of the table and scribbling her name into the first slot.