AN: *Insert huffy disclaimer here*
AN2: Sex warning! It's Harry's birthday and now that he's sixteen Hermione gives him kind of a huge present. Be warned, it's marked.
-:-
Chapter Three: Renewal
The small courtyard of the compound the witch hunters worked from was bathed with sunlight even this early in the morning. Its two current inhabitants, a lithe thin woman and a taller more muscular man, were simply watching the sunrise together in a favoured ritual.
The woman was perhaps in her late teens, eighteen or nineteen. The man appeared older, perhaps twenty three. She was slightly petite, with long hair dyed navy blue bound in a ponytail. His was short and blond. She wearing a form fitting set of dark combat fatigues, he a pair of buckskin trousers and a thick quilted vest over a strange shirt that laced in the front instead of buttoned. They were a study in contrasts but appeared perfectly comfortable next to each other. She even leaned her head on his shoulder as they observed the rising sun.
An observer would maybe have thought them lovers, or perhaps very close friends. While they were both of those things that was not their only bond: They were also a highly trained pair of killers.
Having been partnered together for their entire careers they worked in tandem, utilizing their vast contrast in skills to succeed at whatever job they were given. Now though, they were just a young man and woman, enjoying the early morning sun. The man brought an arm up to wrap around her waist possessively as he leans down to speak softly to her with a rich deep voice.
"We should head back inside. Hamlish will want us on deck for recon. We're expecting those kids in country soon."
His accent was strange, as if threaded together from many different other ones, with little bond between them. The result was a clean, measured voice that enunciated carefully and slowly. She grunted petulantly before rising gracefully to her feet, offering him a dainty hand.
"Come on then Victor. No point waiting about it."
Her voice was sharp, a side tone of some unnamed emotion that seemed awkward given their previous intimacy. It bordered on resentment, or condescension, but the smile in her eyes belied any kind of bitterness.
He took that hand firmly and between them they hoisted his lanky frame upright whereupon he politely waited for her to precede him to the main building. The most fleeting of smiles flitted across the sharp noble features of the young woman before she set off, a meagre acknowledgement of her affection for him.
A long suffering sigh is the only reply she gets as he steps down from where they had been sitting up on a ledge. He lands comfortably from the meter drop to the ground and only now is it apparent just how massive the disparity in their heights is. Even a meter below her walking level Victor's head is easily level with her midriff as they walk along beside one another. From the woman comes an annoyed statement.
"I hope they turn up soon. Keeping that old geezer fed is becoming a chore."
A soft chuckle and a soft spoken reprimand from the man;
"Come Lucrezia, it's not that bad, he's only made a pass at you what… three times?"
"Ugh, four."
His peals of laughter ring out across the courtyard in unrestrained mirth as they continued indoors.
-:-
Hermione had already been up for several hours when Harry finally stirred. The sound of his grunt as he stretched made her smile. He was often so relaxed in the mornings. She moved back to the bed and crawled in under the covers, snuggling up against his chest where she always loved to be.
"Good morning my man, happy Birthday."
She felt him smile against her hair as he kissed the crown of her head softly as he was want to do. His arms slid around her back and they simply held one another. He didn't speak for quite a while; instead they simply drifted in the ethereal space that was their conjoined memories. The love he had for her was always like a powerful torrent of emotion that washed over her, but today it was more of an ocean; endless, deep and unfathomable. Something about him had calmed recently, where before Harry's mind could be likened to a river, rushing, powerful, and directed. But, like his love, she could now more liken it to a lake, or ocean; still and content. His passion still lived under the surface of that ocean but the war had changed him, forced his emotions to become steadier and less impulsive.
They couldn't afford spikes of emotion in battle, especially when they were linked together. A stray thought or burst of emotion could become a fatal distraction for the other. Something that would destroy both of them in the long run. So they had become calmer, more reserved, and steadier. She dived into that ocean of feeling that he had for her. She revelled in it and allowed her more reserved demeanour to slip, to be replaced instead with the exuberant young woman who had been left behind sometime last year.
He joined her, his thoughts tugging her around in a strange, ecstatic kind of dance around their fondest memories. It was relaxing, freeing even, to let themselves go from the slightly austere personas that they had to adopt on a day to day basis and just be the teenagers they were: At least in the privacy of their shared consciousness.
Finally he spoke aloud, voicing his thoughts in an audible sense.
"I'm worried about today; I'm worried he's going to do something."
She frowned, loathing the fact that Valmortis could affect them even here. His next thought startled her slightly
"Do they even know what kind of threat he is?"
She thought to ask who, but the answer was there in his mind; the wizarding public at large. She considered that for a moment, Valmortis had mostly (and probably very deliberately) targeted muggle population centres. His only attack of any real note, save for the battle at the ministry. Had been at Hogwarts, and that battle could easily have been attributed to Voldemort. It was very likely that the common witch or wizard had no idea exactly what kind of threat they were under.
Valmortis' MO was very different to the late Tom Riddle's, he didn't seek to strike fear into the hearts of those he fought, he let his minions do that for him, rather he struck at those who were unaware, muggles for the most part. This let him engage the military forces arrayed against him without them ever really garnering public support.
It put the Regiment in an awkward position, because while Valmortis was a very clear and present danger, they didn't have much tangency in the public eye. It was very likely that much of Wizarding Britain didn't fully understand exactly what the Regiment was, or that they'd been fighting for almost a year. The Daily Prophet had been mostly silent about the whole affair; Amelia didn't have the editors in her pocket like Fudge did. But she also didn't give them any information.
While this prevented any kind of public panic it also meant that most magicals were probably unaware of the threat.
This wasn't to say that Amelia was deliberately withholding information from the press. More that she didn't have much patience for them, from what Hermione understood at any rate, and thusly didn't interact with them frequently enough to form a coherent narrative of the events that had transpired. They might have to talk to her about that next time they had a chance.
Returning to Harry's original concerns she wordlessly kissed his cheek and rose from the bed, offering him her hand.
"We'll just have to keep our weapons close today."
His grim nod was the only concession he made, the only acknowledgement he made, that they were still living in wartime.
-:-
As Harry descended the steps in the foyer to head outside he reflected on how drastically their lives had changed since his last birthday: Then they were still essentially children, a little more well trained than some perhaps, but they were still concerned with childish things, homework, school, what their friends were up to, etcetera. The prophecy and Riddle aside, they had been, essentially, happy.
In the last twelve months however they had gone through some serious changes: Bodily for one both he and Hermione were much fitter and harder than they were then. Though Hermione made a point of keeping her diet up so that she maintained a softer figure, he was well aware that she didn't want to hurt her reproductive system in any way, though he wasn't sure exactly how body fat helped that.
They had the regiment to look after of course, and the war effort. They were both trained now, in firearms as well as wands. And they were leaders.
More than any of that though they were now both killers, Harry had honestly lost track of the number of mercenaries he had personally shot and killed, or slaughtered with his magic. The night after the Regiment's first engagement against living humans Harry and Hermione had wept together in their bed, clinging to each other like small children in a thunderstorm as the shared revulsion and horror at what they had done washed over them.
Now he was almost numb to it, between them they'd been able to shuffle away many of the more horrific aspects of those memories, locking them away behind shared mental walls. It felt like cheating sometimes, when the rest of the Regiment had to go through that horrible circumstance and they ran from it inside their own minds.
Perhaps that was another reason why there was growing dissent in the squads, a rising need to return to their families and put the Regiment behind them for good. It was Harry's charisma alone that was keeping them here now, that and the bonds of family they had forged together.
It was probably worth considering that none of them had any kind of holiday since they had fled Hogwarts. But how could he simply tell them to pack up and go home for holidays when another attack could happen at any time? Moreover some of them didn't even have families to go home to anymore.
Hermione's hand gripped his forearm firmly from where she was descending the stairs at his side, a wordless plea to put such thoughts behind him for the time being, to enjoy at least this one day.
With a force of will that was becoming second nature to him he wrenched his thoughts away from the melancholy and focused on the young woman at his side, his Hermione. She had something planned for him, that was certain, but he wasn't totally sure what. Especially when her mind was so conflicted about something she refused to show him.
It was an interesting facet of their mental connection that they deliberately gave each other privacy. Harry wouldn't dream of encroaching on her private mental space when she wanted to be alone, and vice versa. Earlier in their relationship this hadn't been as apparent and they were more interested in revelling in their new found ability.
Time had tempered that exuberance into something a little steadier, the passion and excitement was still there. But now it had a solid shell of respect and patience keeping it gently in check. It was strange to be able to observe himself becoming more mature, he mused, the result of having two perspectives for any given event perhaps.
Hermione brought him to a stop in front of a door in the basement level of the Manor, he arched an eyebrow at her; this was Fleur's cell. She had a straight face as she pushed the door open, and immediately a gasp slipped from his lips.
"Fleur?!"
-:-
Hermione watched Harry carefully as he stepped into the, now well furnished, cell. His eyes were blank, and the skin around his mouth was pulled taught. He had instinctively shuttered their connection for a moment before letting it open once more; the sight of their old friend causing his emotions to fluctuate wildly. Fleur was in stasis still, and would be until Hermione released her from it. She had decided just that morning to give Harry the chance to reconcile how much progress the Veela had made with her recovery, his outburst was understandable, as she was clad in clothes similar to what she had favoured in her free time at Hogwarts, and the shadow of Voldemort was gone from her features.
Before where her mouth had been a distended, unsightly maw filled with rows of needle like teeth, now it was the same pair of bow shaped lips with a single set of perfect pearly white teeth. Her eyes were no longer blood red orbs filled with confusion and malice, now they were the same sparkling blue they had been so long ago.
The lines of scars and unsealed wounds had vanished from her features, and her hair was back to its platinum shine. All in all she was Fleur, not Epine, at least on the outside.
"She's regained some of her memories."
He turned to her then, one thick eyebrow raised in query.
"You came back first, no surprise there really. You were always the most important thing in her life. I came next, part and parcel of you I suppose, but aside from that very little. She knows how to speak English, French still eludes her. As does her family, her preferences, anything about herself. She has no memories of who or what she was before she became a nosferatu. She doesn't understand what she did."
The skin around his eyes tightened at that, and the motion was followed by a thick flood of discomfort and even fear. The surge of emotion lasted for barely a moment before concern and empathy swept it away.
"She remembers all the people Epine killed doesn't she?"
Hermione felt tears well up in her eyes as she nodded.
"She can remember everything; the memories are disjointed apparently, like they're someone else performing the deeds. I guess that's fortunate because she doesn't carry much guilt, though that's probably because she has very little sense of self. I gave her a wand to practise with and it seems like she knows most, if not all, of what she did before but I'd need to do more comprehensive tests to be sure."
Hermione turned to the frozen witch on the bed and sighed softly.
"Her whole being is about us now Harry. No matter how many times I perform the ritual nothing else comes back, it's like her soul is intentionally protecting her from the memories of who she was… How she betrayed you. It's a convenient fix for her, but I understand how hard this is for you, to see her like this again."
She fell silent, understanding implicitly that he needed to think for a moment, to repel the images that surfaced alongside her face.
"What do we need to do?"
Hermione couldn't help a wan smile from curling her lips, this was her man, ever loving, caring, helpful, and willing to set aside his own hurt to help others. That smile fell to a frown quickly though, as she considered his words.
"I don't think there's anything more we can do for the Fleur we knew. I hate to say it but there's every chance that she'll never get her memories back, and that she might just have to begin living again. Develop a new personality as it were."
She took a breath, knowing what was going to come next would be hard for them both.
"She still loves you Harry, the incessant need that the Veela bond created isn't there anymore, thank God, but she still loves you, or her memories of you at least."
She turned to him and cupped his rough cheek tenderly.
"You've changed a lot since those days."
He grunted under his breath at that and muttered
"It's been over a year, no wonder."
Louder he said; "Why is she still in stasis? If she's cured, then shouldn't we reintegrate her?"
Hermione stepped forwards and wrapped her arms around him.
"Voldemort's soul is mostly gone, only a few shreds of connection remain, little more than what you experienced with your scar in fact, less even, because she won't share any physical connection to him. But there is still connection there, there's a chance that if she encountered him again, if he still exists…"
"He does."
The claim from Harry took her aback for a moment
"I'm certain of it. Whether it's these final tethers in Fleur keeping him bound to this plane or something else I don't know, but I can feel him still in the pit of my gut. He's out there."
She nodded thoughtfully, filing the thought away for later before continuing.
"If she encounters him again there's a fair chance the connection could be used to control her, or I guess potentially even resurrect him in the same ritual that revived him last time."
His face contorted in discomfort at that thought, and the memories that tried to surface before he ruthlessly quashed them.
"She should come with us."
Now that was unexpected.
"What?"
He pulled away from her gently so that he could turn to face her properly.
"She should come with us to Poland. There's no chance of us encountering Voldemort out that way with the Witch hunters all over the place and we can't simply let her rot here. I…"
He paused and Hermione could feel another 'Harry Potter Moment' coming on.
"I left her in that graveyard love. I watched her die there. This woman… whoever she is, or will be, hasn't hurt us. She deserves a fresh chance. What better chance to give her than to bring her with us and forge some bonds of friendship and memories to replace the ones we have of a friend lost to us?"
She couldn't help it; she threw herself at him and wrapped him in a hug, holding to him for dear life as the emotions roiled through her. She loved this man. His arms came up and held her close, rocking them from side to side gently as they hugged. Eventually she pulled back from him and pointed her wand at Fleur.
"You ready?"
He took a breath, a heavy one, and nodded.
"No, but let's do it anyway."
-:-
Awareness returned slowly to her as she felt the spell fading from her bones. There was an interrupt in her memory; she'd been sad, dreadfully so, then nothingness, then she was back. A stasis spell? But why?
She opened her eyes and… there he was; standing in front of her with a pained look on his face that made her heart ache. Was she causing that? He was different to what she remembered; his eyes were older and filled with more pain than she could rightly comprehend. His body was taller, more muscled, and he was wearing a uniform. She was used to seeing him in his Hogwarts robes but this was different, more militant.
She abruptly became conscious of the tears on her cheeks and moved to wipe the away but a firm grip on her wrist stopped her. She looked up to see him kneeling in front of her. Slowly he reached in and brushed her tears away before leaning forward and grasping her in a tight hug.
She gasped in surprise but couldn't hug him back as he'd pinned her arms to her sides. She felt how tense he was, how hard this was for him to do. What had she done? He let her go after a couple of seconds and stood, sharing a warm look with Hermione before leaving. She could have sworn she saw tears on his own cheeks as he turned. Her eyes darted to Hermione with a questioning expression but the other girl simply sighed and sat next to her on the bed.
"You're coming with us."
She stayed silent, Hermione wasn't finished.
"We're going to Poland tomorrow, we're going to free one of our agents from an organization there. I was going to leave you in stasis till we returned. But Harry wants you there with us. To learn, and grow as an individual."
Her breath caught in her throat, Harry wanted her there with him?
"I think he's temporarily forgotten exactly what we're going to be wading into though, we're going into battle Fleur."
The name rang hollow, unattached to her save for the implication that Hermione gave it with her voice.
"So regardless of anything else you're going to have to train on the go. We can get a uniform for you and some weapons. But you'll have to learn to use them as we travel. Are you ready for this?"
No? Of course she wasn't ready. The last thing she remembered she was going to be in this room for a while yet, having her connection with Voldemort's soul broken. Now they were bringing her along on a combat mission? Her head was spinning.
She glanced at Hermione and realized the girl was actually waiting for an answer, so she spoke for the first time in the encounter.
"I… I guess. Do you think I'm ready?"
Hermione frowned at that and she realized immediately that the other girl didn't think she was ready at all. Something told her she would obey Harry's wishes though, regardless of what either of them thought appropriate.
"No, I don't think you're ready, I wish we had time to train you here, get the rest of the Regiment used to having you around before we left. But we don't have time, and you do need to learn to be a person again. So regardless we have to do this. You have to do this Fleur."
She frowned, why wouldn't that name stick? It felt so wrong. She could learn to respond to it at least, even if she felt no kin with it. Hesitantly she nodded
"Okay, I'll do my best."
-:-
"Harry!"
The cheerful bark of greeting surprised Harry as he crested the staircase leading towards the master suite. He turned to see Sirius climbing the stairs at a trot, arms spread.
"Happy Birthday Pup!"
Grinning Harry gave his godfather a gruff hug before stepping back a bit and grabbing reflexively at the present that was thrust into his hands.
"Had to get you something, thought you might appreciate this."
It was a relatively heavy box about the size of his head and Harry was momentarily baffled as to where Sirius had pulled it from, both his hands having been free a moment ago, before hand waving it with a mental 'magic'. He raised an eyebrow at the grinning man before pulling the lid off with a hearty tug. Inside, under some tissue paper, was a stack of bronze discs about the size of a medium sized plate.
Perplexed Harry took one of the discs off the top and examined it; there were a plethora of runes on one side, but the other was burnished smooth. Impatiently Sirius snatched the disc out of his hand and slapped it, runes down, on his forearm where it stuck fast.
"It's a magical round shield, for spellfire your sorcery shield will be fine but against physical attacks you might want something a little more sturdy. Here, watch."
He turned his arm so the plane of the disc was perpendicular to the ground and made a sharp circular motion. Immediately the enchantment on the disc snapped into action and it seemed to spiral outwards, becoming about four times its original size in a heartbeat.
"I've been firing bullets at these from one of the sniper rifles all week, checking and rechecking until it could stop them every time. You'll still feel the shock but it should prevent any broken bones, or penetration."
Harry took a moment to marvel at the magical contraption. Then he frowned slightly as he thought about what charms they might hold.
"I take it this is the original size, and you use a shrinking charm to keep them small. Then just concentric circles of impervious runes on the inside?"
Sirius made a so/so motion with his hands, the shield vibrating slightly from the motion.
"Sort of, there's a lot of fine charm work that went into it, notice the layers on the inside?"
He tilted the shield so that it's edge was facing Harry and, sure enough, there were many layers to the bronze in the shield, like an onion.
"Each of those has a different layer of runes for shock absorbing, deflecting and the like. There's even a layer to keep it from accumulating any liquid or grime upon its surface, as well as a set to keep it mirror smooth and free of scratches. That way you can use the shields to signal one another across long distances by reflecting light off the surfaces, especially if you can't afford to cast a communication charm for some reason."
He snapped his wrist in a contrasting motion to his earlier one and the shield subsisted back to its smaller state.
"Be warned though, they won't stop any spells. To get the magic into them that I needed to I couldn't put any magical resistance charms on them, as such they'll crumple like wet tissue paper if anything stronger than a cutter hits them. They're strictly for non-magical engagements. Or if you have to fight any demons in close quarters this should let you block their physical attacks. It's worth remembering that they keep their properties even in the smaller state, so if you're quick you can use them like a buckler to deflect a blow."
He shrugged then and put the disc back on the stack.
"There's about two dozen there. I'll make more as my free time allows and I've kept one for myself, but that should let you outfit a few squads of Regimentals. Hopefully it can save a few more lives. You can also give them to civilians in the field to give them a chance to survive in a firefight. They'll stop any spell once before breaking so you can even use them to deflect a killing curse if it comes to it."
He grinned
"I hope they help"
Slightly overwhelmed Harry gave the boyish man a much firmer hug before backing away, the box of precious discs still clutched in his hands.
"Thankyou Sirius, truly. Can we attach these to our belts or something for portage?"
The man scratched his chin in thought
"I really only intended the sticking spell to work on an arm, but there's no reason it shouldn't work on a belt, or leg for that matter. Might be easier to slap it on your upper thigh, but I'm sure you'll figure something out."
Harry stepped back from his godfather, the box of somewhat weighty discs cradled in his arms, he grinned.
"Thanks again, I should probably go get these to the barracks."
"You do that, and say hi to Hermione for me"
A quick exchange of thoughts later and Harry replied.
"She wants to know how we're getting to the continent, if you've figured out arrangements yet."
Sirius nodded, the turn of his face grim.
"You're catching a plane tomorrow at lunchtime. You'll be stopping in Bern, Switzerland, where you'll have to make your way to Poland on the ground."
"Cars?"
Sirius nodded.
"You and Hermione can both drive, buy a car second hand when you get in country, the four of you should be able to make good time."
Harry canted his head to the side
"Five of use."
"Five?"
"Fleur."
There was a moment of tense silence as a parade of emotions flickered across Sirius' face, distorting it through confusion, fear, sadness, anger, eventually he settled on annoyance.
"Why is she going with you? Don't you remember what happened last time you trusted her?"
His words were like a knife, spearing straight into Harry's heart. Suddenly Harry gained insight into this man, the man who'd been a prisoner for thirteen years: He had trusted once, in Pettigrew, and now traitors were less than filth to him. Harry stepped back from him again, and turned to head for his suite without a backward glance.
"I trust her."
-:-
Harry slammed the box of shields down on his work bench, tears obscuring his eyes.
Why did he trust her?
It was the most absurd thing; she'd betrayed him, become an undead against her will, and rampaged across the country killing dozens, hundreds even, of magical creatures. But he trusted her. He slumped forwards, his knees giving out as his body collapsed to the floor and he supported himself on his forearms against the desk as he let out a surge of emotion.
Time lost meaning for him as he wept bitterly against his sleeves; memories of her, how she'd been before, and after, that event swirled through his mind. How happy she'd been with them at first, how she'd secluded herself away, tried to protect them from her sorrow. How contrite and shamed she'd been after her mind had broken free of the compulsion that Valmortis had struck her with.
She had been his friend before, he had trusted her.
She had betrayed him.
So why did he trust her?
Numbly he registered as Hermione's arms, and they could only be Hermione's with that intimate and comforting posture, slid around his waist, holding him close and tugging him to the bed.
He slumped down against the covers in a haze as she crawled onto the bed next to him and curled up, kissing his cheeks and neck softly over and over and giving him something to focus on that wasn't his complete mental breakdown.
Despite this the numbness escalated to a thick fog that blotted out all his thoughts. He couldn't feel, he couldn't think, he could barely even sense Hermione's presence in his mind. His whole body felt like it was packed with cotton wool; thick, dull, unresponsive.
It seemed to last for an eternity, just floating in a senseless sea of confusion and disbelief. Eventually he felt Hermione push him onto his back and snuggle into his chest, straddling his hips. Throughout everything, she was still there. He couldn't feel the bed beneath him, but he could feel her. He couldn't hear his own panicked breathing, but he could hear her soft words coaxing him back to her. He couldn't see anything, but she was there with him.
He used her as a lifeline, dragging himself through the mire of his own thoughts to the safety of hers. She welcomed him, as ever, her mind comforting warmth that enveloped his, drawing him in and surrounding him with encouragement and love. They didn't converse, or share sensations or thoughts, rather they simply existed together for several endless moments, recharging their minds for the conversation to come.
Eventually he came back to himself, it was a strange sensation; becoming conscious again. He'd never been lucid enough to experience the sensation upon rising from sleep, he doubted anyone ever would be, but he was now. Hermione had drawn his mind mostly out of his body, severing a lot of the chemical imbalance that was causing his emotional overload from his actual thoughts. The sensation of returning to that body fully, feeling his arms and legs regain sensation, was supremely disconcerting.
When at last he had full control of his faculties he took stock of his surroundings; the master bedroom, their bed, her arms. He drew back slightly, his body felt cramped and stiff, he needed to move.
Ever since he'd begun waking immobile and helpless Harry had become hypersensitive to any part of his body being in less than perfect working order. It was like a blaring klaxon in his brain that wouldn't let him think till he'd stretched and worked out the stiffness. Hermione understood, she'd occupied his thoughts more than once when such a mental imperative had taken over him.
He paced the room for several moments, his eyes occasionally glancing back to where Hermione was now sitting up against the headboard. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of concern and amusement; she'd laughed at him several times in lieu of his exaggerated stretching motions as he catalogued his body's mobility.
Eventually he slowed to a halt and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. He'd avoided this long enough.
"I still trust her, and I don't know why, hence my miniature panic attack."
"I wouldn't call that miniature, you were comatose sweetheart."
He grimaced, unwilling and unable to reply to that. Fortunately she had more to say;
"I trust her too. Though I've spent more time with her and perhaps have a stronger reason for such trust. Regardless she still has the same affection for you that she ever did. I'm still her friend, even if she doesn't know who she is yet."
His love huffed slightly and he couldn't help but smile at the somewhat adorable sound.
"Ostensibly her entire character right now is focused on us. She has no memory of family, self, friends outside of us. She has no idea that she's a Veela. I haven't really gotten around to explaining that somehow."
The chagrin in her voice was palpable. Harry understood; Hermione suffered from tunnel vision sometimes. She would focus on one problem, or solution, to the exclusion of all else. As such she could forget to deal with the peripheries of a problem, it was one of the things he helped her with, just as she kept him sane.
"Regardless she has no reason to turn against us from her own mind, and I've researched a spell that can block others from affecting her the same way Valmortis did the first time."
"We should really call him Krum."
-:-
The non-sequitur took Hermione aback for a moment before she cottoned on to what Harry was talking about. He continued before she could but in though.
"Much in the same way Dumbledore used to call Voldemort 'Tom', or we'd call him 'Riddle', we should get out of the habit of using his preferred name, take that power away from him. It's a self-appointed title, and a rather vain one at that. No reason we should pander to his vanity."
She grinned wryly at him in reply, waiting for him to get out whatever else was on his chest.
"So… She loves me, as awkward as that's going to be it gives us a reason to trust her. Mostly because it's everything she is right now. I take it she still knows how to be a human being? She knows politeness, manners and such?"
She gave a brief nod
"Then really all we need to do is be her friend. Maybe her love for me dampens after a while, it was artificial to start with anyway, and then we just have another friend. Nothing wrong with that."
Another nod, and a smile. Though that smile quickly became a frown as she opened her mouth to speak.
"We really should continue researching ways to return her memory to her though. Regardless of anything else she was out friend, she deserves better than this."
Harry's brow thundered for a moment, some memory flitting across it before departing whence it came.
"Is that even right though? She has all of Epine's memories, she's going to have memories from who she is now, whoever that is, and if we find a way to return her old memories those will be of yet another independent personality. What would that do to her?"
Hermione pondered that for a moment, what would the memories of three separate people do to someone? Three separate personalities vying for dominance?
"Well." She began, "The memories of Epine aren't detailed or fluid enough for her to really have any kind of ownership over them. So that's largely irrelevant. But I do see your point. It would be like if one of us died, physically, but their mind was stuck somehow inside the other's head. We'd drive each other mad."
He frowned for a moment in acknowledgement before wagging a finger at her.
"But surely our personalities would just merge like they do when we choose to voluntarily. Making one unique entity? Wouldn't something similar happen to Fleur?"
Hermione pondered that for a moment before shrugging.
"It's largely academic until we actually have a method of returning her memories to her. At the moment it's just hypothetical, perhaps we should resume this discussion once we actually have a method prepared."
Harry nodded, a thoughtful look crossing his face.
"We should also talk to Fleur about it. It seems like playing God, talking about this kind of thing behind someone's back."
Hermione felt a headache coming on, sometimes her life was just too strange. Harry's voice brought her back to the present and she couldn't help but smile wanly at his offhand question.
"What's the time anyway? I'm famished."
Rising from the bed she took his hands in hers, pulling him close for a quick kiss.
"Let's straighten ourselves up before going and grabbing some food. I could use a bite to eat myself."
As they were getting tidied up again a thought struck her.
"What set you off anyway? I was focusing on talking to Fleur just before you had your attack."
His brow thundered again and she felt a flicker of anger shoot through him.
"Sirius, he came to give me a birthday present, which was brilliant actually remind me to show you, but we were talking after about how we were getting to the mainland. He explained our flight and how we'd need to find a car in Bern. Then I mentioned that Fleur was coming along."
He sighed and leaned back against the dresser, looking at the floor. The brief flash of anger had settled to sadness and she stepped into the circle of his arms, worry flickering through her breast at the look on his face.
"He demanded a reason why we we're trusting her again after what she did and I realized that the years in Azkaban have really broken him. Any kind of traitor, big or small, is instantly a non-person with him now. I don't think that he's ever going to be able to reconcile who she was and who she is now: To him she's always going to be the Veela that betrayed me, she's going to have Pettigrew's face for him, always."
On one level Hermione understood Sirius' position. She still had trouble dealing with the fact that despite Fleur's betrayal of Harry he was going to let her back into his life. Sometimes his forgiving nature was a bit too apparent. On the other hand the Fleur mentally preparing herself for the trip to Poland downstairs is a completely different woman to the one who died in the graveyard over a year ago. While Hermione was still more than a little angry and bitter at what Harry had gone through in the aftermath, she could also reconcile the fact that she couldn't punish this Fleur for the failings of her previous self.
The other side of this rather spikey coin was Harry's love of Sirius. The two had become fast friends during the previous summer, and he'd been a huge factor in Harry even being able to function in society again after his rape. In the absence of any real male friends for Harry outside her father, Sirius had been a breath of fresh air, and a person Harry could connect to on a casual and familial level.
For that man to then turn around and act so callously towards Fleur would always be a dagger to Harry's heart. She knew that he in his own sweet way blamed himself for what Fleur went through and the decision she'd had taken out of her hands. Irrespective of the hurt he'd gone through Harry had that fantastic quality that allowed him to reach out to the mentally dispossessed girl and offer her comfort and sanctuary, even a new life. The two opposing viewpoints might permanently damage the relationship the two men shared.
Hugging Harry extra tightly for a moment before stepping back she looked him in the eye and spoke in the most supporting tone she could muster.
"What you say to me if I did something like that?"
His panicked gaze reached her for a moment, his mind went blank and Hermione could almost feel the scramble in his thoughts for something to say. Eventually his mind settled and he spoke.
"He doesn't know that she doesn't have her memories. He thinks it's the same person."
Then it clicked for her as well. It wasn't so much that Sirius couldn't reconcile the new and the old, he thought it was just the old, the same betrayer. She nodded encouragingly at him.
"So you need to talk to him about it."
The smouldering look he gave her then made her knees weak and suddenly it was him supporting her against his chest, rather than the other way around.
"I'm going to thank you for that later love. But for now we should eat. C'mon, time for breakfast."
-:-
The regiment was tense that day, while everyone had a warm greeting and well wishes for Harry everyone understood that Valmortis, Krum, might use this day as a weapon. An attack now would be a direct strike against Harry, and his morale, regardless of who the physical target was.
More than that though a lot of them, especially the older years, the ones who didn't know Harry nearly as well personally, were wondering why they were even there. Why they were bothering to stay. While the Regiment was the first line of defence against Valmortis it was also, for the time being, largely unneeded. While Susan and Tracey had made a strike against the Knights Walpurgis the Knights hadn't retaliated, or attacked anyone in any way since the battle at the Ministry.
Indeed Valmortis himself hadn't really made any attacks against wizards, only muggles and some of the purebloods were wondering whether it was even a good idea to stop him. There was talk among the 'ranks' that now that Valmortis was out from under Voldemort's thumb that he would simply disappear into the woodwork, return to his own business and leave British wizards alone. He'd only responded with force against the Regiment when the Regiment had become a threat, and only then with mercenaries.
How short their memories were, that they forgot that it was Valmortis who had led the attack on the world cup two years ago, that he had been personally responsible for the army that attacked Hogwarts, that he had been responsible for the death of Daphne Greengrass, the daughter of a very prominent pureblood house.
Now Harry and his closest were travelling out of the country. Obviously the threat couldn't be too dire if he was simply leaving.
How short their memories, how short and how bitter.
-:-
Harry was really glad the Tyranny was on their side. He was reclining in a loveseat in the library looking out across the grounds towards the training fields. Hermione was curled up in his lap, the top of her head resting comfortably beneath his chin, a book propped up against the side of the chair.
Tyrant squad was putting the tank through its paces today, keeping it hot in case they needed to deploy. He winced as the main gun fired, it's heavy calibre rattling the windows with the soundwave and downrange one of the reinforced automatons he'd created was torn apart, pieces of shrapnel flying everywhere in a brilliant shower of flaming metal.
It was truly a beast of war.
The turret swivelled and fired again, a shot tearing downrange and thudding into the side of a hillock, slightly off target. The dull 'krump' reached him a moment later and he winced again at the spray of dirt that blasted from the impact point.
The thick weight of his new pistol was pressed against his right thigh, which was in turn pressed against the back of the loveseat he and Hermione were currently occupying. It was a tangible reminder of exactly how much the Weasley twins did for the Regiment. The pistols might literally be lifesavers.
He'd taken a moment earlier in the day to talk to them, to get a gauge of the Regiment's mood, and it wasn't good.
-:-
"Harry"
"Boss"
"Benefactor"
"Specky Git"
"What can we do for you?"
The gimlet eye Harry shot the boys only made their grins widen and he chuckled under his breath as he leaned his forearms on the table between him and the twins.
"Just came to have a chat lads, no harm in it is there?"
"Sure you did"
"Just for a chat"
"While your gorgeous soulmate"
"Is sitting in the house somewhere"
"All alone"
"Without you"
"Un-kissed"
"Un-groped"
He decided to head them off there before they got progressively more lewd.
"Alright fine, the chat has a purpose. But it's still just a chat."
He raised a single finger to halt the brewing tide of mind bending twins peak.
"What's the mood in the Regiment?"
The twins looked at each other, a frown cresting their features.
"Why would you ask us Harrikins?"
"We're in here"
"Perpetually"
"Eternally"
"Restless"
"Sleepless"
"At any rate we don't know."
Harry waited for them to stop with a raised eyebrow.
"Sure, and Alicia and Angelina come here to spend time with you."
He shared a quick grin with them before continuing, they understood they were caught.
"Now try again, with less bullshit."
Fred's frown ratcheted up to a scowl and George sighed heavily before speaking.
"They're tired Harry, we all are. We haven't been home in months, and some of them are starting to consider deserting."
Harry felt a surge of anger well up before ruthlessly quashing it. Of course they were.
"It's a mark of how separated the Regiment is right now that you didn't know that to begin with."
Now it was Harry's turn to scowl, he knew exactly how distant the individual squads had been, especially since the Ministry. It was like they thought the battle was over, that they resented Harry for keeping them around now that Riddle was gone.
"Should we disband?"
Fred grunted in annoyance before speaking. It was a rare example of the twins making a sound that wasn't talking or laughing, they were typically much more articulate.
"I don't know if it's going to make a difference, we're all volunteers, and while we're staying till the end…" He looked to his twin for a moment before continuing, "Not everyone will. Sorry Harry."
He hung his head, sometimes it really sucked being the leader.
"What do I do?"
A calloused hand slapped his shoulder sympathetically
"I don't know mate. But I'm glad you're the one who has to decide not me. I'd bollix it for sure."
-:-
Now, sitting with Hermione, the problem seemed even harsher. How many of his friends, the people he'd essentially grown up with, were considering abandoning this fight? How many of them had become so dissatisfied with the cause, or disillusioned with his leadership, that they were going to leave innocents to the predations of the Knights?
It was a harrowing thought, that Neville, or Seamus, Pavarti, Ernie… That any of them might be considering it. A soft kiss on the underside of his jaw brought a smile to his face.
"What're we going to do love?"
That soft spoken question from the love of his life was all the support he would ever need. Not; 'what will you do?' but 'what will we do?' that tiny difference in speech meant all the difference in the world to him.
"I'm going to go squad to squad tonight before we turn in, and remind them that they're volunteers, not conscripts. If they don't want to be here then there's no point demanding they stay. We've got reinforcements coming from Hogwarts in a month, we should be back from Poland by then and we can rebuild the Regiment. It won't be the same but hopefully it will be enough."
"How hard was it to say that sweetheart?"
"Too hard"
-:-
"You've got to be fucking kidding."
Harry grinned at Tracey's annoyed response to his offer.
"Firstly, do you really think I'd let the four of you go to Poland without me? Secondly, do you really think I'd abandon you? Ever?"
She huffed in annoyance and sat back against her pillows, glaring at Harry with a hint of real hurt.
"I'm not going anywhere Potter. Live with it. Neither of us are, right Susan?"
They both turned to look at Susan only to find her looking at the floor, a guilty look on her face. Harry felt his heart jolt, not her too.
"I was considering it."
There was silence in the room and Harry got up to leave, Tracey's face was sad but not surprised, she'd known. There was little he could say to that, especially with disappointment weighing down on his heart. Just as he turned to go she spoke again.
"I told auntie, and she threatened to disown me if I went through with it."
Harry raised an eyebrow at that and sat down, obviously she wasn't finished.
"She told me that this was the most important thing I could be doing, that the Regiment was pretty much the only line of defence between Britain at large and whatever horrors Krum has up his sleeve. She told me that she had never been prouder of me than she was when she heard that I was fighting for what I believed in, for what was right. She told me that regardless of how I felt, how tough it was getting, I had to keep going. Not for me, her, or even you Harry, but for the people we were protecting. That if I left now I was consigning countless people to horrible deaths."
Harry frowned
"She guilt tripped you."
Susan made a 'so, so' gesture with her hand
"More she verbally smacked some sense into me. And I agree with her now that I've got my head out of my arse. This is the most important thing I could be doing, and a bit of discomfort on my part isn't any match for what the general public might go through if we don't stop that Russian prick."
"I think he's Bulgarian actually"
"Whatever, he's a prick regardless."
He couldn't help but grin.
"So you're sticking around?"
A soft snort was his only response from her. Tracey responded wryly for both of them.
"I think you can take that as a yes Harry. Happy Birthday by the way, and tell Hermione I said hi would you? The girl never comes down to talk anymore."
He rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortably aware that she was staring at his lips, as if she might dart forwards and kiss him at any moment
"Yeah, sorry about that. She's been working hard at getting Fleur better and it's been draining her reserves enough that by the time evening rolls around she mostly just falls asleep. I'll see you two tomorrow. Sleep well."
Explaining Fleur's… return? Had been awkward but surprisingly straightforward. Both Tracey and Susan had been aware of Hermione's attempts to heal the witch and both had been friends with her before she'd died. They were going to spend some time with her tonight, getting to know her again, or perhaps helping her become someone to know.
As he stood to leave he thanked the girls once more and headed out into the corridor, letting the door close behind him. He'd gone to see them last, figuring they'd be the least challenging pair to deal with and he'd been right. Purepower squad was the big shock, all three of the boys were going to leave the Regiment before the rest of the Regimentals arrived from Hogwarts. He'd discussed with them why for a while and most of it boiled down to them being unsure that they were happy with the people they were becoming. They'd taken lives and it wasn't agreeing with them.
It was a facet of the dissatisfaction pervading the Regiment that Harry hadn't considered. Every single member had been through harrowing experiences, battles against undead and man alike. Liches, vampires, and all other manner of horrific creatures. They'd seen people die, friends and foes alike. Not everyone could handle that kind of trauma.
Fully they were going to lose nine of what was left of the Regiment: Leaving a meagre nine squads including the command squad, Seraphim squad and Tyrant squad. Medic squad, Thinktank and Busibodies were all more or less auxiliaries leaving only three squads to form a functioning fire team. Between the losses suffered at the ministry, the loss of Daphne and now fully three squads leaving the Regiment they'd been gutted. If they weren't getting reinforcements Harry might have considered telling them all to go home and be with their families, maybe join the ministerial effort and let the Regiment die out.
He was utterly despondent as he mounted the steps leading to the second floor of the Manor and Hermione's arms in the master suite. A bitter voice in the back of his head remarked that it was probably the worst birthday he'd had since his first year at Hogwarts, but he crushed the dissenter.
He had Hermione, he had friends in the twins, Tracey, Susan, even Fleur. They were loyal. He had his adopted parents in Dan and Emma, the arrangement was always weird and it made him slightly uncomfortable sometimes that Hermione was his adopted sister but at the end of the day it was mostly a formality so that he could be safe from the Dursleys, though they would be in prison for a long time yet.
He had family, friends and a soulmate. Everything else could be worked around. Really if he had nothing but Hermione he could survive, they could work out anything between them, so long as they had each other.
As he entered their suite however he was struck by a sight that promised to make this birthday the best he'd ever had.
-:- Smut from this point on. You can end the chapter here and not miss anything important if you want to skip the lemon -:-
A range of emotions run through teenagers before they lose their virginity. Some are nervous, others enthusiastic, excited, other still are a little too eager. For Hermione it was simply the natural next step in her relationship with Harry. One she'd been waiting for, for nearly two years.
They'd done a lot together, pretty much everything short of intercourse that most teens participate in. But this final step represented something a lot more permanent. Both she and Harry considered themselves close enough to husband and wife. They'd never have another, never separate, they had the rest of their lives together to look forward to; the war notwithstanding.
What were marriage vows beyond that? Beyond the commitment between two people to be one, in many respects they were closer and more intimate than many married couples would ever be. Taking this last step was something like a consummation of that bond. A confirmation between them that this was permanent, real, forever, that they would be with each other, and only each other, for the rest of their lives.
Once upon a time Hermione had considered adding Fleur to their relationship, but in the year since that day she'd discovered that she was very monogamous; she'd never have been able to survive Harry being with another woman of his own will: Which was honestly awkward as hell when they were surrounded by so many women who wanted to get into Harry's pants. She'd learnt to live with it, mostly because they were all her friends too and she couldn't help gloating every now and then.
But here she was, curled up in their bed, candles strewn about. She'd felt incredibly awkward and silly, which was infuriating. So much of her relationship with Harry was easy give and take but in the bedroom he tended to lead these days, and honestly she had little idea what to do with herself.
She'd debated posing for him or wearing something slinky, but in the end she'd decided to just be herself for him; slightly romantic, honest, and bare.
The moment he opened the door she knew something was off. His magic, which he normally kept tightly bound and contained, was flowing off him in waves, his mind was closed due to his own intense concentration on whatever he was thinking about, and the door closed behind him with a sharp snap of wandless magic.
Then he saw her and she felt a jolt of heat go through her abdomen at the look of lust that passed through his eyes. She didn't need to look down to know he was hard as a rock but she did anyway, purposefully licking her lips at the sight.
Harry's ego had always been something of a fragile thing. The abuse he suffered at the hands of his biological family and the hot and cold relationship he'd had with the wizarding world had caused him to be humble to a fault. She didn't mind giving his ego a stroke every now and then, or any other part of him for that matter.
She dragged her gaze up his body, noting the deep movement of his chest as he breathed and the slight parting of his lips, before her eyes met his and locked there. All at once his mind opened up and she knew he understood exactly what she wanted, what she needed from him. He stalked forwards, that was really the only word that could be used for the almost predatory movement, and she felt her breath hitch in her throat as he let out that primal part of himself to play.
It was frankly unfair how he could make his eyes go all smoky like that, it was probably some aspect of his aura that was still battering against her in heady waves of wild magic. His clothes peeled themselves off him in a rather breath-taking, and probably subconscious, display of his rather precise wandless magic, and as he reached the foot of the bed he gazed down at her.
Something passed between them, an understanding of sorts that while this was definitely a momentous occasion for them, he shouldn't act any differently to how he normally would with her. She wanted him; the man who she loved, the man who held her life and happiness in the palm of his hand. She needed her lover, her man, the soulmate she was prepared to spend the rest of her life with.
He beckoned her with a crooked finger and for a fleeting second she wondered exactly when Harry had transformed from a sexually timid and unaware teenager into an instinctual and headstrong lover who knew exactly what buttons on her body made her… sing. It wasn't like she was complaining though, and she didn't hesitate for a second to slide the covers back from her nude form and crawl across the bed towards him.
His hand met her halfway; curling under her jaw in a gesture of affection so familiar to her it was like the air she breathed. He applied gentle pressure and she followed it unquestioningly as he drew her close to his crotch.
She nuzzled against his cock where it lay flaccid between his legs and breathed deep of his musk, a shiver rand down her spine as his other hand went to her forehead before sweeping back through her tresses, grabbing a handful and tugging her harder against his groin.
He directed her in an almost playful series of motions, pushing her against his thighs and cock and forcing her nose deep into his pubic hair where she eagerly breathed deep of him again and again, her tongue darting out to taste his already slightly sweaty skin. Tasting of his scent, imbibing it and intoxicating herself on it like one might on the aroma of a full bodied wine.
He tugged firmly on her jaw and she opened it obediently as he positioned her beneath his hanging cock and slowly fed it to her, inch by inch. Even flaccid he was quite the mouthful and she had to relax her throat to stop from gagging as she practically swallowed his already hardening length. She knew from experience that even if she got him off now he'd still be more than capable of satisfying her later so she eagerly began sucking and licking at him, taking pride in the husky sounds of pleasure he let rumble up from his throat.
Being a leader had changed Harry irrevocably, where once he had been timid and shy he was now self-assured and confident, though she would never consider him arrogant or brash. It was a vital difference and the distinction was vital to the reason she was so happy, eager even, to let him feed her his cock and fuck her face with it till all she could do was swallow his seed. She trusted him, but more she felt safe with him. He would never hurt her, or push her more than she could handle, and she found that confidence unspeakably sexy; that he knew exactly what he wanted from her and was quite capable of inspiring her to give it to him.
He became more vigorous, thrusting his hips against her face even as he brought her head against him by the hand still fisted in her hair. The other hand had moved down her back to her arse as he leaned over her, thrusting into her throat with a surprising amount of control, she whimpered as he spanked her, hard, though the sound only came out as a muffled gurgle around the cock still lodged in her throat.
Her own hands were behind her back. She knew he didn't mind what she did with them but she derived an incredible amount of pleasure from simply allowing him to control her like this; relinquishing the carefully held control she'd striven for all her life to the man she loved.
Even as she thought about this he pulled back from her, his cock sliding from her mouth as she gasped for breath, her eyes locked on his, a smile at the corners of her swollen lips. He looked so tall from this angle, already taller than her by a fair margin that height was exacerbated to an extraordinary degree. His eyes were still dark and smoky as he gazed down at her, the hand previously fisted in her hair was now cupping her jaw again, a tender moment of affection to match the pride pouring from his eyes and mind.
As she regained her breath he advanced on her and she simply let him push her over onto her back, her hands still behind her, allowing her legs to flop against the covers to either side of him as he towered over her. He looked almost animalistic in the flickering candlelight, hard shadows throwing sharp relief over his toned and wiry physique. His cock was half in shadow but even then it still glistened from the saliva she'd inadvertently basted it with as he fucked her throat.
He settled his weight atop her, pressing her into the mattress and grinding his cock against her already dripping sex. She didn't even fight the needy little moan that slipped from her lips, she knew he adored the sounds she made as he made love to her.
Their gazes never parted as he lowered himself further; his chest pressing hard against her somewhat neglected breasts and she gasped at the sensation of her sensitive nipples being crushed against him. Then his mouth was on hers and she moaned into the kiss as he settled atop her, his body dwarfing her petite frame. Their height disparity was such that he had to keep his back arched to maintain the contact of both their lips and groins as he began to thrust and rut against her, grinding the length of his cock along her slit and against her clit.
It was frankly torture and she let him know by wrapping her legs around his waist, desperately trying to intensify the contact between them. He pulled back from her lips and moved his mouth to the shell of her ear, his tongue darted out and traced a wet line around the edge that made her shiver and moan breathlessly.
His hips pulled back and her breath caught in her throat as the blunt head of his cock pushed up against the sopping opening of her sex, prodding at her with a need that belied his exterior calm. She closed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists where they had ended up at her waist, determined to let him take this at his own pace, to love her as he wished. A quiet but husky whisper reached her ear, his voice tight and strained from need.
"I love you, always, forever. I want you sweetheart, so badly."
She pressed herself up against him and whispered back to him with a voice laden with ardour.
"Then take me."
-:-
Harry couldn't help but let out a soft growl at her words and pulled back to lock gazes with her. Despite the rough play they were both romantics at heart and wanted to be watching one another as they took this final step. A twinge of nerves rushed through him at what he was about to do but she washed the feeling away with encouragement and a wave of heady emotion that threatened to make him lose focus entirely.
He shifted slightly, supporting his weight on his elbows either side of her head and leaned his forehead against hers, their eyes locked as he thrust forwards with his hips. He speared deep into her slick folds, aroused as she was there was almost no resistance to the intrusion and he sunk halfway to the base of his cock with the first thrust.
He gasped at the sensation. He was inside her, she grunted beneath him at the feeling and her eyes fluttered closed only to snap open and lock with his again, a burning need there egging him on. The bond roiled with their combined pleasure and love as he pulled back and thrust once more, sliding fully into his soulmate.
Her hands came up from where they were clenched in the bedsheets and instead wrapped around his neck and shoulders, hanging on for dear life as he ground against her. His breath was already coming in short pants, nothing they had done before had prepared him for the slick velvety tightness that he was experiencing now. He moved closer and pressed his lips to hers hard, kissing her with the passion and need that was flooding his body and with the satisfaction and sheer completeness that their union was summoning forth.
As he pulled back from the kiss she bore down on him with her inner muscles and he huffed in shock at the burst of pleasure that rippled up and down his cock. He nearly lost it there and then and simply let his head fall down to the crook of her neck where he proceeded to kiss and suck at the skin there.
She whispered to him in the soft light of the candles as she ground her hips back against his own insistent rocking.
"Does that feel good my man? Do you like being inside me? Fucking your future wife? The woman who will bear your children? Carry your heirs?"
She kissed his ear before continuing, the act so sweet it made a harsh prickling sensation well up in his eyes.
"I love you my man. Make love to me Harry, I need you. I want you. Move"
He was in no state of mind to argue with her and immediately set about pulling back from the hot embrace of her sex. When he was halfway out he reversed direction, sliding back in with a powerful motion that sent jolts of pleasure through both their bodies as he bottomed out, the head of his cock kissing her cervix gently with the peak of his thrust.
She whimpered in his ear, her arms tightening around his back as one of his own slid down her body to wrap around her waist, the other remaining in place to support his weight. He bit down on her throat hard as he thrust again to keep from moaning out his pleasure and she bucked up against him as he did, meeting his hips half way with her own. He closed his eyes against the sensation and let out a husky groan against her neck just as she loosed a needy moan to the room.
"God Harry, yes, fuck me sweetheart. Fuck your lady."
His cock twitched inside her and he thrust again, pulling back before lancing deep inside her once more. She let out a little feminine grunt at the impact and her legs tightened around him as her hips ground against his, rubbing her clit against the base of his cock. They moaned together at the sensation and he wrenched himself back, only to slam back in once more.
He quickly worked up a sheen of sweat as he pounded Hermione into the mattress with a growing rhythm. She fucked him back just as hard, egging him on with titbits of dirty talk in his ear even as her hips met him halfway every time, and her muscles contracted around his cock as it speared inside her.
He was honestly in a haze, and would remember little of the actual act later. All he could focus on was the slick vice of flesh wrapping around his cock and the breathy moans, grunts and exhortations filling his ear. He wouldn't last much longer, of that he was sure. Her rather expert blowjob and the sheer pleasure and decadence of being inside her was rapidly overcoming any and all stamina he'd built over their sexual relationship together.
Maybe a couple of dozen thrusts into their coupling her moans took on a much sharper inflection and, recognising the signs, Harry bit down again on the soft flesh at her neck. Not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough to push her over the edge of her impending orgasm. It didn't quite get her there so he pulled back enough to speak and husked into her ear.
"Come for me Hermione, my love. Come around my cock as I fuck you. Come for me sweetheart."
Somewhere in the middle of that she clenched around him and loosed a keening whine. Waves of pleasure obliterated all thought in either of their minds for a moment as her orgasm overpowered the bond and flooded both their minds with shocks of electric sensation.
He had no hope of keeping his rhythm through that and slowed to a halt, simply grinding against her sex with his cock buried deep inside her as they rode out the waves of her orgasm together. Somehow, miraculously, it didn't set him off too and as they came down from the high he resumed moving.
She panted in his ear as he picked up the pace, wanting, needing, to come inside her, to complete their union.
One of her hands went to his hair, the other grabbed his arse and squeezed hard. Her voice reached him, breathless and loving.
"Thankyou sweetheart, God I love you so much. Come for me sweetheart. Please Harry, come for your lady."
Her soft words in his ear and her breathy little grunts of pleasure every time he bottomed out combined with the still vice tight confines of her pussy and the rippling heat therein were more than enough to shove him careening over that edge.
He lasted only a few thrusts before slamming once, twice, three times deep inside her before remaining there, grinding against her with little thrusts as his cock twitched and recoiled. He barely felt his cum pumping out of his cock as stars erupted behind his eyes and once more pleasure filled the bond. He gasped and shuddered, his whole body clenching and flexing with his orgasm. His arm around her tightened, pulling her abdomen against him so tightly he'd wonder in future how he didn't fuse them together with some kind of accidental magic.
Sated utterly he collapsed atop her and it was all he could do to remember to keep breathing as the aftershocks of their union fluttered through his body and their bond.
-:-
Hermione had never felt more complete as she did in that moment, her man was atop her like a blanket, his cock still filling her centre with his cum right up against the opening to her womb. It was fortunate that it was the wrong time of the month for her to even be remotely worried about getting pregnant because in that moment she honestly wanted his child. She wanted to give him a family, to complete the circle of their love with the next logical step.
The hand on his arse swept slowly up his body to cup his shoulder and she moaned happily into his ear as his cock twitched in the aftermath, sending little shocks through her body. He let out a shuddering breath and despite the exhaustion in his voice what he said made her laugh gaily.
"Remind me why we waited for this again? Because honestly I think we just cockblocked ourselves for over a year."
-:-Chapter/Smut end-:-
AN3: Okay, firstly yes it's been a damn long time since I updated. It happens sadly especially when I see this series getting much less attention then I had hoped considering the length and (I hope) quality. This particular chapter has been kicking my arse too. I had originally planned for Harry to have one on his paralysis fits after the encounter with Sirius but it felt too forced, so I had to rewrite around three thousand words in the middle of the chapter to make it work. As such it took maybe a month longer than it needed to.
AN4: Okay the smut's in now and you'll see that the general direction it's been moving in has started to come to a head, Harry's growing up and with a partner who trusts him completely he's becoming a man equal to his magic; primal, dominant and powerful. For those of you who that bothers, or might be bothered by the idea of the man being the man in the relationship… Why on earth are you still reading this?
AN5: Review Responses:
Pairingmatters: She's not strictly alive. That's all I'm going to say for now. It'll come up again later.
The Viking Stranger: Lots going on huh? Hopefully this answered some of your questions, the rest will have to wait for next chapter I'm afraid, whenever the hell I get around to writing that .
Anoutherboarduser: Nice to know you're still with us. Thanks
Beyondthesea: The Witch Hunters do know an awful lot don't they? Strange that. I hope this cleared up some of your concerns. Also yes, the twins are amazeballs.
Noble Korhedron: Here you go!
Shadow Dragon: I'm leaning on the side of Magical for John, but him being mundane has interesting opportunities. I'll think about it. There's definitely nothing set in stone there.
AgentBrisbane: Firstly: Neat name, secondly: Thanks very much for your words, and though we've already discussed it I'll say here publically that you can use my work if credited for non-profit works of entertainment.
Guest: Thanks for your words. Hope this meets standard.
Okay Folks, that's it for another chapter! Tune in next time for Chapter Four: Poland, in which our teens head to Warsaw searching for the esoteric Witch Hunters. What exactly will they find in this country steeped in ancient magic?
As always thanks for Reading and other Shenanigans. See you next time!
LGreymark