So it's been forever since I posted the first part. I'm sorry about how long this has taken to get out! I underestimated how hard it would be to write this info. But, this is a MUCH longer section than I had anticipated so I hope that helps make up for it?
I'm trying very hard to have coherent notes right now. I woke up with so much pain in my jaw that I had to ask my mom for a pain pill. It makes me feel like I'm high. High and drowsy. Though I've never been the first so I can't honestly say that's what this feels like.
But yay for not being in pain, even though it makes my fingers disagree with my brain. Sigh. Anyways, on to the story!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter! Never have, never will.
They had never planned for this. No one ever does plan for such a thing, who would? What they were doing would ultimately lead to nothing but pain for them and their entire family. No sane, good person would want that for their family. But they found that they just could not help themselves. It felt so good, to be together.
So right.
Neither one could say how it happened, who had made the first move. Hermione supposes it was a mutual thing, that they were equally guilty. They had both participated in that first kiss—of that there was no doubt. As a strong arm wrapped around her, fingers linking with her own and pulling her back into a warm chest, she couldn't help but think of how it had all began.
He was gone. Again. Slamming her bag down on the desk beside her, Hermione glared angrily at her living room furniture. She shouldn't be surprised, she supposed, it was a part of his job. He's an auror, and a damn good one. So of course they'll call for him and Harry more than anyone else in the department—it made sense.
But just because it made sense, did not mean that she wasn't allowed to be upset! The git hadn't even bothered to tell her, and she had sat alone in the restaurant for hours! Her fists clenched at the thought, a low growl sounding in her throat. When he had bothered to send her a message, it was only to tell her that he would be gone for a week, and that he was 'sorry' he had missed dinner.
Huffing she stomped her way to their bedroom, kicking off her flats as she started to take her coat off. She had dressed nice for the occasion, wearing a slimming black dress and the grey coat he liked to see her in that he always told her she was a beauty in. It had been so long since they had last done something nice just the two of them. She couldn't remember the last time that they had been physical, the last time she had felt wanted.
Reaching behind her she began to unzip, shaking her head so that the pins fell out, scattering to the floor as she stepped out of her dress, opening the bathroom door so hard that it slammed against the wall, more than likely deepening the dent that was starting to form from all the times that this had happened.
As she washed off the light makeup that she had put on Hermione decided that she had had enough. She had been expecting to have a fun night that night and she was going to with or without Ron! Leaving her face bare but for the eye liner that was making her eyes pop, she touched up the curls she'd done that morning for work, leaving them to hang down, cascading down around her shoulders and back, ending just below her waist. Dressing in a tight top—one that she knew showed off her body in a way that was tasteful yet seductive, for it was what Ginny had told her when she shoved her out of the dressing room—and her favorite jean mini skirt, she slipped into the first pair of heels she saw. With a hand to her purse and a flick of her wrist, she was out of there, the door locked tight behind her.
When she arrived at the club, the first thing she did was head straight to the bar. As she flagged down the bartender, she chanced a look at her surroundings. It was a Muggle bar that night, and luckily she saw no one that she knew. It was tiring being a war hero, always being recognized, always being flagged down for questions or an autograph. It was one of the reasons why she liked to go to the Muggle side of London so often. They did not recognize her, did not care for what she did.
It was perfect.
"Whatever is on tap," she said, once the man had finally come, unable to suppress the slight shiver of pleasure at the heated way he looked her over. Nothing would come of it, of course, but it was nice to know that someone still found her attractive. Grinning at him, she left her money on the bar before her, picking up her glass as she turned to face the dance floor.
The place was packed that night, full of bodies pressed to one another, moving together in ways that really should have been left to their bedrooms at home. Downing half her glass in one gulp, Hermione winced, shaking her head as she waited for the taste to stop being so prominent. The young witch wanted to join the people on the dance floor, to just let go and forget about her worries like they were, but she knew that without at least a glass in her she would not be able to get the courage to make her way out there.
Taking down Lord Voldemort, one of the worst wizards of all time? Easy, she could do that in her sleep. But letting herself go, not caring of how she looked? Not so much.
Swallowing the rest of her beer she set her empty drink down on the bar behind her, taking a deep breath and firming her shoulders before slowly making her way to the crowd, eyes flitting about as she looked for a place to enter. Finding one she eased her way between bodies, stopping once she was a comfortable distance in; Hermione was close enough to get out if she so wanted, but far enough in that she could get lost amongst the sea of gyrating bodies.
It did not take long before she was free from her head, body moving instinctively as she moved in rhythm of the beat, in time with the strangers around her. From time to time Hermione found herself with company, rolling with it when they came and went. She did not so much mind the company, missing being touched; it had been so long since Ron and her had done anything besides exchange absentminded kisses to the cheek.
After some time she started at the feel of hands on her hips, a body almost pressing against hers as they danced. It felt almost familiar, as if they had done something like this before. The thought brought a frown to her face, and to stave off her own curiosity she turned to see a startling sight. Her dance partner was in fact someone that she had danced with before, though in an entirely different way.
"George?" she called over the music, hands flying forth to grip at his arms as she was bumped into from behind. Last she had heard he was on a business trip in France, looking to see if it would be a wise move to open up a branch there. A Muggle bar was the last place that she had ever expected to see him at.
"Hey, 'Mi." he grinned, leaning in to be heard over the loud noises of the club. "Fancy running into you here,"
"When did you get back from France?" she asked, huffing when someone ran into her once again. Now that she wasn't really dancing anymore, she did not appreciate the random moments of touch by the others on the floor.
"Come on, let's get a drink." He said in answer, releasing her to grab ahold of her hand and lead her out of the crowd and back to the bar. George waited until they each had a drink in hand, sitting across from each other in a booth in the corner to talk. "Why isn't my brother here with you?"
Hermione frowned, taking a large gulp of her drink before answering. "He's on assignment somewhere with Harry." The 'again' was left unsaid, but clearly heard nonetheless.
"You know they're the best they've got," George said sympathetically, watching as she slouched in her seat, picking at the label on her bottle. She sighed, sending him a small, sad tinged smile.
"How did it go?" she asked, knowing the subject change was not subtle but not caring in the slightest.
"Great. I found a location I like and we're going to be opening up a new shop in a couple months." He leaned in, arms resting on the table. "I couldn't say no…Fred wanted a store there the moment we opened the doors here," he added softly, his face showing pain as it always did anytime his brother was mentioned.
She couldn't help the soft noise that escaped her lips, reaching out and taking one of his hands, squeezing as she sent him an understanding smile. He squeezed back, linking their fingers as he took a moment to collect himself. With a sigh he slid his fingers out of hers, leaning back into the booth.
"I'm going to have to be there while it's being built and such…Angelina's not very happy about that." he confessed after minutes of easy quiet, spinning his nearly empty glass. "That's why I'm celebrating alone; after bringing up Fred in the…discussion, being at home didn't feel like a good idea." Finishing off his beer, he looked over at Hermione with a frown to his lips. "Not really looking forward to going home tonight, actually."
Hermione looked at him, taking in the unhappy set of his…well, everything, and made a spur of the moment decision. "You can stay at my place tonight, if you want. We have a guest bed."
George blinked, looking at her in slight shock. "Really? I'd appreciate that." He smiled, just a small lift of the corners of his mouth.
"Of course," she said softly, finishing the rest of her drink in one go. "Would you like to go there now? We have beer you won't have to pay for."
George chuckled, nodding a positive before standing. "Sounds good to me." He followed her out of the bar, following in an instant as they apparated to her apartment, where he waited patiently for her to open the door. While he looked around she grabbed them both another beer, handing it to him before sitting down on the couch.
He accepted it with a quiet thank you, settling on the other end of the couch. They sat there for a while in silence, sipping at their beers and just enjoying one another's company. After a while Hermione turned the TV on, channel surfing until she came across an old black and white classic; she settled on it with a smile, missing the fond look that George gave her.
The two talked very little after that, neither noticing how they slowly inched closer to one another until they were at each other's sides, half lying on the couch in a cuddle. It was with a small, shared laugh that they separated, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
"I guess it's time to sleep," Hermione stood, stretching out her limbs with a sigh. "Do you need anything before I go to bed?" she asked, turning back to him to find him standing behind her.
"No, I'm alright. Thanks for letting me stay," he reached out and tugged on a curl, smiling at the face she made.
"You're welcome. Goodnight, George." She said softly, looking up at him with a sleepy smile.
"Goodnight, Hermione."
What happened next was something neither could ever explain, to each other or themselves. How an intended good night kiss to the cheek turned into a toe curling meeting of the lips was a mystery; but while it had been an accident neither one moved to end it until long after they should have.
Gasping as the kiss ended the two shared a wide eyed look, lost in surprise for a moment before they came crashing back to earth, finally taking notice of how they had ended up. Her fingers were curled into his shirt, his hands at her hips and holding her close. With startled looks and shaky apologies they separated, sharing one last look before going their separate ways.
Though they didn't know it, they fell asleep that night wondering the same thing.
Did that really just happen?
Warm lips pressing to the back of her neck brought her out of her musings, drawing a soft sound of pleasure from her lips as they moved up, teeth nipping at an ear lobe. The slight pressure had her arching her back, pressing back against him with a needy noise. His husky voice followed the movement, whispering her name and sending an excited shiver down her spine; it was something she could never resist.
"Hermione?"
Hearing her name she quickly spun around, searching for who it was that had said it. It didn't take long for her to see him, his bright hair and colorful robes making him hard to miss. "Hi, George. What are you still doing in Paris?" she asked, stepping back to let a group pass by them on the sidewalk.
"It's taking a bit longer than planned to get everything set up." He answered, looking around her to see if anyone was with her. "You here alone?"
"Yes, Ron's on assignment again and couldn't make it." she sighed, looking down at her bag as she fiddled with the strap. They had fought over him being unable to make their trip before she left, but it hadn't been resolved when it was time for her to go and it left her feeling uneasy. Their relationship seemed to be nothing but one big argument; it had been that way since the start, but she had hoped that after being married they would have calmed down. No such luck, though.
"I'm sorry. Would you…do you want to go to dinner tonight? You shouldn't be alone your first night in Paris." He asked, deciding to ignore the awkward that still lingered in the air from the last time they had spent time alone together.
"I would appreciate that," she said, smiling gratefully at him. The sight caused a stutter to his heart, something that startled him. What was that about? Doing his best to hide his reaction from her he just nodded, pulling a piece of paper out of his robe pocket. With a flick of his wrist the directions to a restaurant appeared on the slip; he handed it to her the moment it was done.
"Here's the information. I guess I'll, uh, see you tonight?" he waited for an acknowledgment to their plans before saying a stilted goodbye, going their separate ways, thoughts in a whirl.
The rest of the day passed in a haze, nerves and uncertainty pervading their beings. Was this really a smart idea? Would they repeat their folly, or even discuss it? These thoughts and more swirled through their mind, remaining unanswered and persistent as the time arrived for their dinner.
What would tonight bring?
With a small gasp Hermione arched her back from the wall, fingers scrambling for purchase as George kissed further and further down her torso. Tangling her fingers in his hair she moaned softly, his name a whisper as he set fire to her blood. It had been a little over a week since that first uneasy dinner, a week spent in each other's company, growing closer while they tried their hardest to fight what they felt building between them.
The night before they had caved, closing that distance and tumbling into bed. Neither one felt good about it, but their guilt over their actions was overwhelmed by the way that they made each other feel. It was like nothing that they had ever felt; as much as they loved their spouses, never had they felt such passion, so connected to another person.
Crying out as she was brought to that edge only to be eased back, Hermione tightened her hold, trying to bring his head back where she wanted only to whimper in frustration when he refused and stood, catching her mouth in a heated kiss. They moved seamlessly, connecting in more ways than one as they made love against that hotel wall.
As their cries rent the air, they knew Paris would be something that they would never forget.
Moving her hips back, rubbing against him, she took pleasure in the heated groan her actions provoked. They had only the weekend, just two days to be together without worry of being caught, of repercussions. Rolling in his hold so that they faced each other, Hermione hitched a leg over his thigh, his name escaping her lips, full of need as he entered her smoothly, a hand gripping her thigh as they moved together.
They had only two days where they could love one another freely, two days of uninterrupted bliss. As their lips met in a desperate kiss, all thoughts of anything but each other fleeing their heads, they knew that they would be forty-eight hours of total perfection.
Well, I hope that you guys enjoyed it! I felt like you should know how they came to be, hence this *waves hand at story* If you want to know anything else about their history (because this is only a two-shot!) just ask in a review or PM me! I'll be happy to share :)
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Thank you for reading, and please, review! I'd love to know what you think. :)