Imaginary Terms of Endearment

(and Angry Gingers)

By FeesleyForDraco

[Harry Potter; Non-canon couples/AU; Rated M for Language and Explicit Adult Themes. Not epilogue compliant.]

Chapter 1:

"You said something earlier that got me thinking," Harry's deep voice broke the silence of the almost empty street. The pair strolled casually from the apparition point to the quiet pub located in the center of the small wizarding district, neither mentioning the fact that they were still holding hands.

"Any time that happens, it always ends with conclusions I find horribly amusing. What are you puzzled about?" Hermione bid with a wry smile.

"Not puzzled exactly, just a bit more cognizant of something that I'd not given much thought to previously," the dark-haired wizard explained further.

"Okay, hit me." Hermione's quip made Harry slow as he quirked one dark eyebrow, giving her a long glance down her body and back up. Her cheeks pinked but she gave him a naughty little grin and pulled him back to walk at their previous speed. "You know what I meant. But, if you're saying spankings are on the table I can turn the brattiness up a notch."

"Your smart mouth has certainly earned you several spankings across that cute bum," Harry returned easily, loving this new energy between them. It had been building all day as they browsed shops and stores in Diagon Alley and especially when they had taken a late lunch up on the outcropping overlooking Hogwarts, enjoying the view of the grounds and each other. The tension was smouldering under the surface and spreading unchecked until Harry was sure he wouldn't make it to the end of their outing without making a move on his closest friend.

"Promises, promises…" The teasing combined with poking out her tongue earned the witch a pinch to the left side of said cute bum. "Harry!" Hermione exclaimed with a wide grin, her delighted laugh echoing off the closing shops of Hogsmeade Village.

Harry loved that Hermione felt comfortable enough around him to abandon her bossy, hyper-rational defense mechanisms and treat him to her personal brand of sassy sarcasm. When they were younger, Harry had found this part of the muggleborn's personality wildly entertaining, often causing him to ache while laughing so uproariously at her antics and quick wit. But, as a man, her smart mouth conjured a growing sexual tension that felt altogether quite different when combined with their level of trust and emotional intimacy. His automatic response was as Gryffindor as his heart: flirting openly, letting his hands wander more than he ever had before and meeting her bratty and sometimes inappropriate tongue par for par. It was new and delicious, finding this secret side to each other that was somewhat familiar but so very different. He loved it. Harry had felt the hot curls of desire fill his center and spread to his limbs, gently getting stronger and stronger every moment he'd been in her presence.

"Okay! Okay!" He capitulated as he pulled Hermione closer, wrapping an arm around her small frame and giving her side a couple gentle pokes to make her giggle and attempt to wriggle away. "You said this morning in the book shop that you were excited to spend the day together and commented that it had been forever since we'd had any free time together, just the two of us," Harry reminded the brunette as he automatically pulled her hand right back into his and led her across the street towards another row of shops.

"Okay, and what about that comment bothered you? Are you simply suggesting we try harder to make time for just us or is it something more abstract?" Harry thought Hermione's voice sounded a bit hopeful but he might have been imagining what he wanted to hear.

"Well yes, definitely with the 'us time', but I'm talking about the bigger picture here. Something is… off about that," Harry's tone revealed a bit of remaining confusion.

They were silent for the rest of the short walk to the Three Broomsticks while Harry continued to mull things over. Hermione was used to this and held her tongue rather than pushing for more explanations or pressing her own opinions on the matter. Harry often stated something out loud to her that he found confusing in an attempt to jog his mind into considering things differently, as if just imagining what Hermione would have to say was enough to get him most of the way there himself. Besides, she already knew where this was headed. Merlin, she hoped she knew where this was headed!

Butterflies were suddenly swarming in Hermione's belly. She rarely experienced feelings of anxiety related to anything other than the Wizard beside her. What if she was wrong about where she thought Harry's pondering would lead? She ran her free hand through her loose curls and quietly took a deep breath in and out to release some excess tension. Hermione's usually rational mind decided at that moment that she needed a completely illogical sign from the universe that she hadn't misread an entire day of flirting and sexual tension with her extremely attractive best friend. The witch determined that if her companion continued his hold on her hand even after they entered the pub, she was on the right track. If Harry dropped her hand before the bar matron could make any assumptions about their closeness, then she would have to work hard to bury her feelings once again.

It took everything in Hermione not to grip his hand tighter as they neared the door. Harry, oblivious to his companions inner turmoil, nonchalantly waved his free hand, sending a stream of silent wandless magic and causing the door to swing open in perfect timing with the couple's approach. Hermione held her breath as they stepped over the threshold and into the pub, hand in hand. A deep sigh of relief escaped her mouth, catching Harry's attention. The wizard glanced down at his companion who gave him a beautiful smile. That pleased smile from the most important person in the world to Harry made him feel ten feet tall, like he had gotten a perfect score on an exam he hadn't even known he was sitting. He gave Hermione a wide grin and a wink, squeezing her small hand gently in his own.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite former Gryffindors! What brings you two to Hogsmeade today?" The duo greeted Madame Rosmerta with appropriate enthusiasm as they approached the bar. "I must say, it is strange to see them without a gaggle of ginger companions."

"Oh, well, we don't get many opportunities to catch up, just us two." Hermione parroted lackadaisical, as if the excuse was a knee-jerk reaction.

"That, and it's hard to find places where we aren't followed." Harry's tone was tinged with the tiniest bit of bitterness, although his face held the usual grin. The bar matron frowned and her hands found her wide hips.

"From now on, you come here anytime you need." She hmphed and continued. "Followed. That's just rude, that is. Just send word ahead if you ever require a more discreet evening be arranged for you. I can connect you directly to my private floo."

"Thanks, Rosie!" Harry said with a rakish smile, interrupting Hermione before she could graciously decline the offer. "Honey, why don't you grab us a booth while I get our drinks?" He watched the witch move toward the other side of the pub before turning his attention back to a smirking Rosmerta and giving her their order.

"You look at her like you've just figured out what love is."

"That little lioness has been teaching me what love truly is since the age of eleven when she graciously allowed me to defeat a troll in her honor." Harry said earnestly.

With a cheeky wink, the plump barmaid exclaimed that her bunions were bothering her and, if it was okay with Harry, she would send a patronus to check on them later rather than walk all the way to the back and interrupt their evening. Harry found himself nothing if not accommodating and readily agreed.

"Harry! Are you coming?"

"Yes, dear." Harry smirked and nodded at the older witch, before leaving several extra galleons on the bar top and following his witch. When he arrived at her chosen table, he found her gorgeous eyes looking up at him expectantly.

"What?"

"I like 'Dear' more than 'Sweetheart' but less than 'Darling'." She replied, matter-of-factly. He folded himself into the seat next to her, rather than across.

"Where does 'Honey' land?" He asked, waving his right hand to toss up mid-grade silencing and notice-me-not charms. Hermione informed him 'Honey' was somewhere in the middle.

"You know," she said, attempting to steer them back to Harry's earlier philosophical debate. "I've been told I'm rather bright." Harry nodded agreeably as if that wasn't that biggest understatement he'd heard this month. "And, it's been said that you, Slayer of Dark Lords, succeed at anything you set your mind too, no matter the mental or magical faculties required. Which leads to the conclusion that you also could be termed bright."

"I'll refrain from disagreeing as it would be pointless," Harry conceded.

"In that case, I have to admit that our skills in the areas of higher reasoning and logical deduction often give us an advantage over those who tend to operate more on human nature and animal instinct. But, sometimes I can't help but come to the obvious conclusion glowing brightly right in front of me and I think you've come to realize it as well."

"You're rarely wrong, Hermione." His agreement was the easy part.

The silence that followed was a bit harder.

"Okay, so here it is." Harry finally spoke. "All this time, it's as if people in our personal circle have been happy to keep us separated or force their presence on us anytime we might be alone and it was subtle enough that I didn't fight it because I am deeply secure in my connection to you. I've never once questioned whether you and I would be in close contact for the rest of our lives, it was just an obvious absolute."

"Mmm… Like parallel lines, always close but never truly together." Hermione quipped, taking a sip of her beverage.

"Well, what do you think?" Her companion asked, his eyes spearing her like daggers.

"I think you are right. And along that same vein, I think they do it without even fully understanding what they are doing or why. Molly, Ron, and Ginny are the worst because they have ulterior motivations. They want to possess you, each for different reasons. Ginny wants this big public love story with the wizarding world's hero. In her fantasy world, she's cast in the role of the most beautiful and envied girl in the wizarding world for being good enough to bag Harry Potter and his bank vaults too. She's also extremely threatened by me and loathes your relationship with me even though she tries hard to hide it.

"Molly wants to be able to claim the Boy-Who-Lived as one of her kids, like you marrying her daughter means Molly herself accomplished something great. She also fully expects me to drag Ron bodily through adulthood rather than applying any sort of expectations of success to the wizard himself. Ron, on the other hand, is intensely jealous of everything about you and can't stand for you to have anything else that he doesn't have on top of your power, fame, fortune and good looks. But, the others do it too without realizing what they are doing. Arthur, Bill, Percy, even Remus and Dumbledore before they died. With the exception of George who rarely starts a conversation or seeks anyone out and Sirius before he died, they've all acted like we couldn't be left alone or we would get bored, get into trouble, get annoyed with each other, when really we would be... we would..." Hermione trailed off, her eyes searching out his, needing to know he agreed.

"Their instincts tell them it's the right thing to do. When you break down the roots of that kind of behavior, they do it because they are terrified of what we could become if we were to grow closer, to support each other fully. Even if we never crossed that invisible line from closest confidants and best friends to lovers, you and I have power and abilities that most can only ever observe but never attain for themselves without going Dark and we could easily make each other greater with little effort." Harry's voice was deep and enticing. The fingers he was trailing up and down the outside of her thigh, even more so.

"They are not wrong to be innately afraid of our magical potential. We've not even gone through our second maturation and we are already hovering on the upper end of Sorcerer for you and higher mid-range Sorceress for me. In the next decade we will easily move over the edge and into Magus territory. We are also insanely compatible magically, you know. My aura practically purrs when you're close by. If we ever accomplished even a completely platonic core bond, we could easily pool magic." Hermione admitted quietly, it was something she had never uttered aloud before in her life. She desperately hoped it was reciprocated and she wasn't about to be told she was crazy.

"I do know. Although, I think your magical core's love language is mostly indicative of your animagus form. It's in your nature as a member of the big cat family, even a Nundu is not immune. My aura doesn't purr, it… reaches? Pulls? I don't know how to describe it. My aura tries very hard to envelope you completely. I've not met a single other person on this planet that my aura has a noticeable reaction to, either." Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side smoothly, tightly. He had no plans to let her go again. Ever.

"Well, your form is a Thunderbird. What do you expect? It likely feels like your aura is reaching out and trying to grasp me in its talons or trying to wrap me up in its wings and protect me. But to touch on the other thing you said... No, I've not felt any reactions to anyone other than you before either."

"I do my best to hold my magic at bay because I honestly feel like if I let it do what it wants to do, our cores would bond immediately. And I doubt anything platonic is in the cards for us." Harry admitted, another secret between them held for years before this night.

"I wonder what your magic would do if you let it have just a tiny bit of room to breathe?" She took one breath, then two before warm, enticing magic curling around her, coaxing her desire to a full flame. Hermione gasped aloud, gripping his arm as her skin hummed and her panties grew damp.

"Harry, it… it hasn't been just me all this time?" Hermione tried to keep the desperation from flooding her voice.

"No, Hermione, it's definitely not just you. Not for a long time."