AN: I'm sorry it took so long to get this out. I had SERIOUS writers block, and between school and home, and the CNA class I'm taking, things have been extra hectic. I'm hoping to get back into the groove and update more often.

The Encounter

The Meaning of Love

Winds of Autumn

Hermione sat up, determination etched on her face. She was done. She wouldn't hide and cry anymore. Harry was confused, and acting on those feelings. That didn't mean that she had to suffer for him to sift through his conflicting emotions. He loved Ginny-- the whole bloody world knew it-- so why was she letting herself stay? Why was she letting herself hope? It was ridiculous. Sitting up, she stood, staying still a moment to regain her balance, before grabbing her wand. Hermione went to George's desk, pulling out a sheet of parchment. Dipping the quill into the ink, she bent over the letter.

Dear Minerva,

Recent events have come to pass that I cannot bear to deal with. I hope that you will consider letting a student move into the castle early. I would be deeply in your debt.

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger

Studying the letter, she sighed and nodded. It would have to do. Hearing shuffling feet in the hallway, she frowned. It had to be Harry. There was no one else there that would hesitate and move on, then hesitate further up the hall and take a few steps. Folding the parchment, Hermione straightened her shoulders and moved to the door. Opening it, she hurried out into the hallway and down to the kitchen, successfully avoiding Harry. She didn't want to see him right now. Couldn't bear it. She shuddered. What he must think of her... It was painful.

Pausing in the doorway of the kitchen, she smiled at Molly and Minerva, wringing the parchment in her hands. It seemed like she'd walked in during the middle of a private discussion.

"Yes, Hermione?" Molly asked, not concerned in the least to have been interrupted.

"I... Um... Minerva? Here," she mumbled, pushing the note forward into the woman's hands and backing away quickly. Her hands went to her belly on their own accord, completely unconcious. Minerva noticed, but frowned at the sheet of rolled parchment in her hands. Unrolling the parchment, her eyes scanned the words and she glanced up at Hermione, giving her a slight nod.

"Of course. Whenever you wish to do so, your quarters will be ready," she said, watching Hermione smile and turn before passing the parchment to Molly.

Molly's eyes scanned the words, a soft sigh leaving her lips. "And they looked so promising," she sighed. "Poor dears. Well, they'll be close at Hogwarts, and she'll be safe from the Malfoys there." Minerva nodded her agreement, a small frown pulling at the corners of her lips as she thought.

"What's going on?" Molly and Minerva looked up, watching the thunderous look of helplessness on Harry's face. Slowly, Minerva stood up and faced him. He had grown so much, but not nearly enough.

"Hermione has asked to move to her Quarters at Hogwarts a little early, Harry," she said as gently as she could. His face hardened, his jaw tightening until he looked... dangerous.

"Excuse me," he mumbled, turning on his heel and hurrying up to the bedroom he knew she would be in. Packing. He nearly snarled. She was his! How dare she think that she could run away from what was happening. It was beautiful. Just a little bitty seed, one that needed nurturing and care to grow. And she was going to throw it away and run like a coward.

He found her just where he knew he would, in the room she shared with Ginny, packing furiously. She was so busy she didn't even hear him come in behind her. Harry closed the door softly, muttering a locking charm on it as he added a silencer charm as well. He folded his arms, his jaw clenched tightly as he leaned back against the door.

"Hermione," he said finally, watching her back stiffen. She didn't turn around though. Her right arm lifted, disappearing as she did something, then fell back to her side. She gathered a breath, then turned. Harry felt like he'd been slugged in the gut. Her eyes glittered with pain, red and puffy from the tears she'd been in the middle of shedding. His anger was gone just as swiftly as it had come, and he moved forward to take her into his arms.

"No!" she cried, stepping back until she was against the wall. "Don't, Harry. I... I can't do this right now." Her voice wavered, thin and ringing with internal pain. Harry's anger flared again, and before he knew it, he was in front of her, tossing her wand over his shoulder and ducking his head to ravage her mouth. Her tiny fists beat against his chest, almost completely unnoticed by him. Her fists slid to his shoulders, then to his neck where her fingers tangled in his hair. Hermione arched against him, knowing it was wrong, but not caring. The way he was kissing her made her think that he was serious, that he did want something.

Harry slowly pulled back, his eyes dark as he looked at Hermione's upturned face. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and moist, her thick lashes fluttering as she opened her eyes. Black, full of swirling passion. "More," she rasped softly, leaning up and sliding her tongue along her lips eagerly. He growled low in his throat, his hands sliding down to her rear. Harry's lips caught her earlobe as he lifted her, his hips pinning her to the wall as her legs circled his waist. A breathy moan caught in her throat at the way he touched her, her back arching. Colors blurred, swirling in his line of vision as the beautiful creature before him moaned and ached for his touch. He didn't think, only reacted to the raging feeling pulsing through his body. The fierce need that demanded he take what was his and give everything he had in return.

"You're mine, 'Mione," he growled. "Do you understand?" He pulled back, waiting until her eyes opened and focused on him. They cleared, a dawning horror setting in as she realized what had happened. She shoved at his chest.

"No, Harry. Ginny's yours. I'm noones." She had wiggled away from him, rolling along the floor to grab her wand before coming up on her knees a few feet away from him. "Just.... Let me go...." Secretely, she ached for him to argue. For him to fight for her. But the animal look in his eyes was slowly disappearing. He wasn't going to fight. Her shoulders drooped and she stood, not even looking at him anymore. She turned back to her packing.

And cried out as she was suddenly laying on her back on the bed, Harry leaning over her with burning eyes. "You are mine," he growled, pronunciating every word slowly. "I don't want Ginny. I want you. I need you," he said, his voice softening as his hand lifted to her cheek. Her skin was so soft. So beautiful. "Please, Mione."

Hermione stared up at him, aching to believe him. Even if what he said wasn't true, she could let herself believe for one night. She nodded slowly, watching Harry as his head lowered and his lips ghosted over hers. She moaned softly, her arms sliding around his neck. Yes, this was what she wanted. All of it. Harry.

His fingertips slid down the curve of her neck, pulling her shirt to the side as his lips followed. He loved the goosebumps and little noises that Hermione was making. They drove him crazy, made him think he was the only man alive in the world. He was the only man, right now in this moment. Hermione slid between reality and dreams, hoping that it was real and hoping that it wasn't. If it was, there would be so many repurcussions, and if it wasn't, she would go crazy.

Small feminine hands bunched in the material of Harry's shirt, knuckles white as the writhing woman beneath him struggled to retain some semblance of control. He smirked. Couldn't have that. He wanted her beyond control, beyond the boundried that kept her so stoic and rigid. Catching the skin covering the small, perfect clavicle he sucked slowly, gently, luring her outside herself toward the wild, passionate woman he'd seen on occassion. She was the only one who could steer him so quickly to and away from the black anger. Briefly in the back of his mind he wondered at the danger of it, but hands catching at his hair pushed the thought away.

"Mione," he whispered, the breath of his words rising goosebumps on her shoulder. Large hands slid up her sides, pushing her shirt up as they went, callouses tickling and stimulating the emerging passion in her. She was so small, even with her growing stomach, that he pushed himself a bit further away from her, desperately trying not to crush her. But she would have none of it, clawing at his shoulders as she pressed up into him, unwilling to be seperated by any distance.

"Hermione?! Are you in there?"

They stiffened, reality crashing in. George's voice. Ron and Ginny were with him. If he was back, they were too. Harry growled softly, crashing his mouth to hers for one last kiss before he pulled away. Hermione curled onto her side in response as his warmth left her. The flush on Harry's face and the dangerous look in his eyes could easilly be mistaken for anger, so he didn't hesitate in lifting the charms and stepping out to face the Weasley Twin.

George took a step back, eyes widening at the Harry he'd never encountered before. "Er... Is Hermione in there?" he asked, shifting to look past Harry into Ginny's room. Seeing Hermione curled up on her side, back facing the door, shoulders shaking silently as if she was crying, George shoved past Harry. He didn't care if he got hexed for it. Hermione was his friend.

Harry merely sneered in response, slamming the door behind him and storming down the hallway to the room he slept in. Ron was inside. The red head looked up as Harry stormed in, but wisely didn't comment as the angry man grabbed his broom and took off out the window. He was curious, though, what had gotten his best mate's hackles up.