CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: LOVE ME LIKE THERE'S NO TOMORROW

Harry, Hermione, and Remus were piled on the couch one evening, watching the others in Remus's living room. Fred, George, and Ron Weasley were sprawled on the floor, Ginny and Michael were perched hap-hazardly in an armchair, and Molly and Arthur were cuddling in the other. They were all talking and laughing in the comfort of half-sleep. Hermione was sitting with her head in the crook of Harry's arm, which was flung carelessly across the back of the couch. Molly was watching them, trying not to smile. She had always felt motherly to Harry, and although she had scorned Hermione while they were in school, thinking that she was playing Harry, when the truth had come out into the open, that she and Harry were married the whole time, and she was Sirius's daughter, Molly had apologized profusely and accepted Hermione. She didn't ever regret it. She was happy that the two of them seemed to be working things out.

Just as they were all drifting off to la-la land, a sharp knock resounded in their heads. Harry was on his feet, wand drawn in an instant, dropping Hermione from her new position on his chest abruptly. Hermione sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes, grumbling at him. When she realized what he was doing, she was right beside him, Remus, too, after having checked on Emily Thea and the other kids. He walked cautiously to the door, shoulder-to-shoulder with Harry. He pulled it open and was horrified by the person he saw.

Michelle was standing under the porch light, pale face and blonde hair in a frenzy. She had black bags under her eyes, red slashes across her cheeks, and her clothes looked like they hadn't been washed in weeks. Remus grabbed her under her elbows and dragged her into the house and clear to the kitchen, where he went to fixing tea for her, and Molly began fussing with her cuts. The only one of them, besides Remus, that didn't wear a look of astonishment on their face was Hermione, who was glaring at Michelle, hatred written on every crease in her face. She stood next to the stove, with Harry, as ever instinctively, beside her. The rest of them lined the walls, shoulder to shoulder. It had been a while since anyone had seen Fred or George not smiling, Arthur looking totally shocked. Ron's eyes were darting between Hermione and Michelle, obviously picking up on his friend's feelings. Ginny and Michael, who were on Harry's other side, were holding hands and pursing their lips.

"I'm sorry to barge in on you, Remus, but I've been traveling for a while to get here." Michelle grinned faintly. Remus grunted in reply. He had nothing to say to a woman who would dump her daughter on the doorstep of the father's best friend's doorstep on the day of the father's funeral. When Remus didn't respond to her satisfaction, Michelle turned to Hermione and was surprised by the ice in Hermione's angry stare. Michelle looked around the room to see most people were wearing looks similar to Hermione's, just watered down a bit.

"Remus, Hermione, could I speak with you two alone, please?" Michelle requested. Remus nodded and everyone began to clear out of the kitchen, to Hermione's full knowledge that, thanks to George and Fred, everyone would know what happened anyway. When Harry began to move away from Hermione, she stopped him by laying a hand on his arm, and begging him silently to support her. He stayed, thoughts of another, less supportive man Hermione knew coming to mind. He was still a little bitter towards Brad. Watch this. I'll show you how it's done.

"Listen," Michelle began when everyone had left. "I didn't mean to do what I did. I was scared. I couldn't raise a daughter. I want her back, now, though. Really, I think I can raise her now." Michelle's voice got tougher as she finished.

"Michelle, I don't..." Remus started, but wasn't allowed to finish.

"You can't have her back!" Hermione put in. Harry and Remus, neither of which had expected Hermione to say anything, were taken aback at how strong she looked. "You abandoned her, left her when you had no idea how her life would turn out, without any warning to the people you were leaving her with! You can't just waltz in, in another unexpected visit, and take her, not when we're attached to her! She's a part of this family and that's the way she'll stay, damn it! Abandoning her child is not something a competent mother does!" Hermione yelled.

"I was scared, Hermione! What was I supposed to do?"

"You were supposed to stay! That's what mothers do."

"You abandoned your son and daughter, Hermione, remember?" Michelle whispered in a deadly and accusatory tone. Hermione saw red.

"Were - you - in - a - life - threatening - situation - Michelle?" Hermione said slowly. "Or did it not suit you to have a child? I didn't leave my kids by choice. I was going to die. If I stayed, whether I fought it or not, I would have been killed. By taking the action I did, I lived to see them all again. I regret deeply every day that I missed seven years of their lives. I wanted them. I did not abandon them, nor will I ever. How dare you say that to me?" Hermione said hotly. Harry was wearing a look of pain, anger, disgust, all mixed together with a splash of shock on his face, wondering why Sirius was interested in this woman to begin with.

Before Michelle could respond to Hermione's words, a small, innocent voice, full of fear, shattered the air.

"Papa, what's going on?" Every adult in the room spun to see little two-year-old Emily Thea, dressed in her favorite night shirt, looking horrified at Hermione, the woman she was yelling at, Harry, and her papa. Remus rushed forward and scooped her up. "Come on, Emily Thea, let's go back to bed, honey." He hurried out of the room with her, not wanting her to see Hermione's fury, which, he had to admit, was kind of scaring him, too.

Michelle looked stricken. "That was my daughter?" she looked questioningly at Harry and Hermione, standing side by side across the counter from her.

"No," Hermione answered. "That was Remus's daughter, my father's daughter, and my sister. I don't care if half of her DNA is yours, she's ours, and you can't have her." The finality was evident in the way she spoke, and Harry, taking the clue she subconsciously gave him, walked around to escort Michelle to the door. When he returned, Hermione was perched on the counter, fuming, tearing up because she was so frustrated. Harry walked to her, bundled her in his arms, and held her close until she calmed down.

Remus, after much talking, had convinced Emily Thea to go back to bed. She still wasn't entirely contented with the explanation as to what was going on that he had offered her, but in the end, he was the daddy, and said she had to go to bed, so she did. He sat next to her on her brand new big-girl bed, rubbing her tiny back and thinking, far past mad at her mother. How could she just barge in on them like that? He had just been getting the hang of this whole fatherhood thing, and was enjoying it to the fullest extent. Why did she have to come and mess this all up for him? For once, he had somebody who loved him without hesitation, and never failed to tell him so. To think that she might be taken away from him was terrifying him, making it too hard to think about. He got himself up, knowing he had to go back to the kitchen before Hermione committed murder in the first degree.

When he entered the kitchen and found Harry and Hermione in there alone, he was stunned. "What happened?" he asked Harry.

"Hermione chewed Michelle's ass up one side and down the other and then sent her on her way. I, for one, was very proud of her." Harry sent her a smile of comfort. She gladly returned it.

"What'd you say? Is she ever coming back?" Remus grinned through the words, against his will and better judgment.

"She asked if the little girl was her daughter, and I said no. I told her that she was your daughter, she was my father's daughter, she was my sister, and that I didn't care if half of Emily Thea's DNA was hers, Emily Thea belonged to this family, and that is how it's going to be."

"Then I ushered her to the door. I don't think she'll come back. Not unless she wants to have a real go at a very pissed off Hermione. That can get ugly, coming from a voice of experience." Harry said in a playful voice, winking at Hermione.

"Oh, kiss my ass, Harry." Hermione retorted slyly.

Looking very much like he wanted to do just that, Harry smiled. Walking flirtatiously, he ambled over to Hermione. To keep her from embarrassing herself in front of Remus, Harry resisted the urge to 'kiss it', and instead placed a gentle hand on the back of her neck, drew her face towards his, and kissed her, lingering on those luscious lips of hers. They tasted better than they ever had, because, after so long, he was kissing her in front of someone else, and she wasn't protesting the slightest. Remus chuckled and watched them, pleased that Harry was finally getting what Remus knew he'd missed for so long. To say he was happy for Harry and Hermione was understating it.

"Good night, Hermione." Harry whispered as his brow rested against hers. He was being overcome with emotions, some so strong he felt like he no longer had the strength to stand at all. Kissing her once more, he moved off, purposely ramming into Remus with his shoulder in a friendly way. "'Night, Moony."

"'Night, Harry." Remus punched his shoulder companionably, snickering.

After Harry had left for bed, Remus rounded on Hermione and jumped up on the counter beside her. "So, how long has that been going on?" he questioned, a small mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"What? Oh, the kissing thing? About eight hours." she replied, without actually looking at him.

"Eight hours ago, you were with me."

"No, eight hours ago, I was alone with Dad. You hadn't been gone thirty seconds before Harry stepped out of the shadows. One thing led to another, and, well, it all started there." She smiled, remembering how good it was to willingly taste him again. He always had been so gentle with her..

"Your poor father must be having a jamboree up there. He knew this would happen." Remus threw an arm around her shoulders and brought her closer.

"The only person who didn't know this would happen was me." Hermione said.

"True enough."

Hermione jabbed him in the ribs.

"I don't deserve him."

"What makes you think that?" Remus asked

"Because. All those years, he was still in love with me. He never even enjoyed, to some degree, any women because they weren't me. I didn't stay faithful. I married. He was true the whole time. I really don't deserve what he's so willing to give me."

"Hermione, you deserve it because he wants you to deserve it. That's all it takes. He loves you. I've never known one person to love another so much, so powerfully. He still wants you, and always did. Consider yourself lucky. It's a blessing to have someone love you like that."

"Remus, have you ever been in love?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Yeah, once, but she married someone else that went to school with us. Great guy. I knew him well enough. I was even at the wedding. Had a kid. I don't ever see her anymore."

"Why didn't you ever get married?"

"I don't know. I guess it wasn't meant to be. You and Harry, though, you two are meant to be. Besides, if I had gotten married, I wouldn't have you here like this, and I probably wouldn't have Emily Thea like this. I wouldn't want it any other way."

"I love you Remus, I really do, more than you'll ever realize." Hermione leaned against him, close to falling asleep.

"I love you, too, kiddo, and thanks for sticking up so strongly to keep Emily Thea here. I don't know what I'd do without that girl."

Giggling, Hermione answered, "It was my pleasure. Tell me I was right about the two of you."

"You were right."

"Ah, what beautiful words." Chuckling, Hermione kicked off the counter. "'Night Remus."

"Night."

Remus called in the next night, saying he and Tonks were taking Emily Thea and Ron's kids out to pizza in Muggle London, and that Hermione and Harry were welcome to join them. Neither feeling really up to going out with four kids to meet other kids, they stayed in, camping out on the couch. Hermione took the liberty of ordering Chinese food. "Steel Magnolias" was on the television, one of Hermione's favorite movies from her time in the States. She sat, legs curled underneath her, crying into her rice. Harry, who was having trouble keeping from laughing, sat trying his best not to look at her. She looked so cute, eyes all red, a soaked tissue forgotten in her hand. When Julia Roberts died, she was sobbing into his shoulder. Harry accidentally laughed.

"Oh, you pig! How can you possibly laugh at a time like this? Does this not affect you at all?" Hermione slugged him in the center of the chest.

Yeah, Babe, it affects me a lot. You looked so damn cute crying over her, I'll have to thank her the next time I see her. "Yeah, I'll have to wish her happy death days the next time I see her walking the streets in LA," Harry joked.

"Shut up, Harry." Hermione laughed through her tears.

"No problem. Here, let me make you feel better." he pushed her shoulders down onto the couch, and kissed her all over the place, everywhere except her lips. He kissed her nose, her eyes, her cheeks, her forehead, everywhere until she got frustrated and kissed his mouth instead, and didn't stop.

Trying to tell him no wasn't working well for Hermione. They were skirting around Hermione's bed, Hermione trying to stay as far away from it as possible. But as much as she was trying, she found herself being drawn to Harry, who was inching closer and closer to the exact place he was worried she wasn't going to go. He knew she was trying not to kiss him, but was also fully aware that she wasn't resisting all that hard. She was right up against him, pushing against his bare chest with hers, still-fully clothed, much to his dismay. As slowly as was possible for him, he raised his hands off her butt and placed them on her breasts, stroking her nipples with his thumbs in small circles. He felt them stiffen beneath his fingers, under the thin shield of her blouse, sending his mind and heart into a frenzy. They were being swept away, as wave after wave of pleasure was enjoyed together. Harry was, more than he ever had been, afraid of her. He feared he was going too far, but knew she would let him know if he was.

"Harry, stop. Please." He did, no questions asked. "Harry," she said again, whispering this time. "I'm scared."

A look of sympathy, and a flicker of pain, came to his face. Taking her chin in his hand, "Of what?" he asked.

"Of you. Of us. What if I'm not really what you want anymore? What if this is a mistake?"

"Hermione Honey," she drew in a breath. 'Hermione Honey' was his pet name for her from when they were kids. "Have you ever known me to hold on to something this hard, for so long? If I didn't want you, I would have let go a long time ago. I didn't, though, did I?"

"No, you didn't, but Harry, what if what we are doing is wrong?"

"Do you think it's wrong?" he asked simply.

Hermione looked at him. He was sitting, waiting patiently for her answer. Waiting patiently. Isn't that what he's been doing all this time? Waiting patiently for her. She must have been crazy thinking this wasn't right.

"Say it." she challenged him.

"I want you, and I love you. Still. I always have."

"How'd you know what I wanted you to say?"

"I know you inside and out, Hermione." Rising off the bed, coming toward her slowly, he wrapped her in his arms, but didn't kiss her. "Are you ready for this?" Meeting his gaze evenly, she nodded, and this time, she was the one who initiated the kiss. Having her do so hit Harry hard, taking his breath away. She was responding to his every caress. She was no longer any more a stranger to him than she ever had been. She was his best friend, his lover, his everything. Back in his arms again was right where she belonged. Her breath was coming in hot, fast gasps on his neck, her chest heaving in an erotic way. Taking care not to move as fast as he wanted to, he tore his lips from the base of her sexy neck and began devouring her lips, all the while letting her pull him towards the bed. She had him by the collar, never feeling satisfied that he was close enough, even if there wasn't hardly a fraction of an inch between them. Her knees made contact with the bed behind her, buckling them and causing Harry to collapse onto her. Pinned beneath his glorious body, she paused for a moment to feel his heart with hers.

"Harry, our hearts are beating in sync." Amazement coated her murmur.

"I told you so." Harry mumbled into her hair.

"Told me what?"

"I told you this was right. I love you, Hermione." She didn't bother with answering. Instead, without breaking eye contact with the man on top of her, she slowly reached down, pulling open the first button on his jeans. She smiled when he grew hard beneath her fingers. Words failed Harry right then. All he could do was make sure to keep his weight on his arms, poised above her, and try to contain himself as she drove him crazy with simple strokes of fingertips over the little bits of flesh she was exposing with each touch to his jean buttons. He could hardly hold back when her fingers finally made full contact with the deepest part of him. She caressed him, occasionally adding small, teasing kisses to her roam over what made him a man. Once more, Harry had been assured that he couldn't live without that woman in his life. When he began unhooking the buttons on her blouse with trembling hands, she knew that he was as scared as she was, but had faith that what he was doing was perfectly right. One by one, the hooks hiding her from him came undone, revealing to Harry flesh he'd only been dreaming of for so long. He pulled her up to eye level with him, pulling her lacy bra off in the process. Cupping her breasts to his hands, oh, Lord, how they fit so well, he swallowed her moan of pleasure. He could feel her skin becoming wet against his, slick and slippery, ready for him. Harry lost what little control he had over the speed of things. He ventured down her body to her smooth slacks, and tore. The button broke completely off the clothing, the tiny zipper coming apart in his haste to touch her. Shoving aside the thin fabric of her panties, his fingers entered her, hard and rough against smooth and warm. She cried out against his chest. Pleasure shot through her body like lightening, causing her to buck and shudder. Harry watched as she caved to the feeling, her eyes clouding over as the sensation subsided. She was still quivering slightly, his fingers still resting inside her.

God, she'd missed this. Longing filled the taste of the kisses shared. Years and years had separated them, had changed their bodies, but still, each knew what to do and when to do it to send the other one skyrocketing in ecstasy. The pace once again slow, Harry slide softly into her, rocking back and forth with her. Assuming her position, she followed him, every step he took, the same way they had hundreds of times before. The feeling of her tightening around him made Harry wish he could die like this, this free, feeling like he could fly. Whispering to her, he made a request, "Hermione Honey, open your eyes. I want you to let me see this." Obediently, she did, and Harry got to enjoy the look of what he was doing to her wash over her. Unable to hold back, he gave one last rocking move, and sighed as he emptied himself into her.

Resting together in the bed later, Hermione's breath was still gone. Harry was falling asleep next to her, chest rising and falling, in one of the most tranquil moments Hermione had ever experienced. The early morning sun was falling across his soft face. A tear trickled down Hermione's cheek.

"Harry," she whispered into his ear, knowing he heard what she said. "I love you." She meant it with all her heart and soul. As he rolled over, she watched his lips curl into the smile she had come to crave, and they made love one more time before he said delicately, "I love you, too, more than you could ever know."

Stark naked, Harry hobbled out of Hermione's bedroom and to the bathroom. He forgot that in the process, he had to pass two other bedrooms. Unbeknownst to him, those two bedrooms were occupied. With eyes half shut, whole body aching from the extreme workout he'd had with her last night, he stumbled down the hall, walking headlong into a wall. Or so he thought.

"Harry, is there a reason you're walking my hall, butt naked, in plain sight of my daughter, when you should be at work?"

Harry cracked open one eye, and watched Remus try to hold back a laugh. Emily Thea wasn't bothering. She was standing in her doorway to Harry's left, laughing as hard as her little body could handle. "Yeah," he replied smartly to Remus. "I had to pee."

"Well, you could try some pants. And, what the hell are you doing in Hermione's room with no clothes on?" Remus had a mischievous glint in his eye.

At that, Harry put a cocky grin on his lips, saying, "You don't really want me to explain, do you?" Remus finally laughed.

"No," he managed. "I don't need you to. You dog."

A blanket hit Harry, obviously coming from Emily Thea, who was still laughing. Harry wrapped it around him and continued on his way. Down the hall further, he heard behind him, "Papa, what would he have explained?" and Remus's snort. Oh, to be so innocent again.