Blurred lines

by quellas

AU: Tom Riddle is Minister of Magic and Wizarding England lives an era of Pureblood Supremacy and Lineage. On the day that marks 24 years of James and Lily Potter's assassination, Italian Auror Harry D'Angelo gets his transference to work at the Ministry of Magic. But who is he and what are his real intentions? [A story about love and revenge]

43. Soldier

Note: So, I guess they have a lot to talk about, huh?

(Soldier - James TW)

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PART FIVE

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May 9th, 2006

At their house by the lake

"So, I'm not sure which one I prefer, Hermione D'Angelo or Hermione Potter." She tilts her head, thinking, that wrinkle between her brows.

He chuckles. "I like both." He gives her a peck. They're sitting on the bed, naked, spent after another round of sex. Harry feels insatiable. He has his legs spread out and she's sitting in the middle of them, her lower back on one of his thighs, facing him, their tattoos exposed. Her hair is up in a bun and he already wasted a ridiculous amount of time kissing her whole body and admiring her phoenix. "But I think Hermione Potter is just… perfect."

She opens a side smile. "I think so too."

He spreads little kisses on her neck, nuzzling her. It's impossible to get enough of her scent. He's an addict.

And then, he gulps, his eyes falling to her necklace for the thousandth time. She didn't take it off and he's kinda of afraid to ask-

"Are you going to keep looking at it, or are you asking?" She says, raising one eyebrow.

He cocks his head, squeezing her thigh. "Okay, fine. What the fuck is this necklace that you never take off?" He doesn't think is something Pettigrew gave her anymore. And he's insanely curious.

She smiles, finally taking it off. Holding it in her hands, Hermione looks at him, "You see, on our last date," Her voice is low, "after I left you in that car and went back to my house, I was so broken, Harry, so sad that I had to say no to you." He inhales deeply. "I heard everything you said at my door. I was right there, listening. Not opening that door was one of the hardest things I've ever done. And I wanted to keep showing you my love, even if… even if you couldn't understand." She levitates the necklace and he can tell she's concentrating in a spell.

He opens his mouth when the necklace divides itself, a bullet and the core from the tulip now floating before his eyes. He blinks, surprised.

"This is the bullet you took for me, love." He takes the bullet in his hand. "I transformed it into the golden chain, and the tulip-" She presses her lips together, Harry can smell the faint sadness from her, "The one you gave me that night, the black core, my love burning for you. It never faltered."

Harry feels some tears rolling down his cheek. "Hermione." He whispers her name. "I had no idea. I-" He has no words. "I owe you a ton of apologies." He says, looking down. She shakes her head and merges the two items back together, putting the necklace on again.

"You don't. You had no way of-"

"Doesn't matter." He cuts her, his fingers on the necklace. He can remember each and every time he saw her playing with it, touching it. All the time. Especially when she was lying to him or trying to hide her true feelings. "What we share is bigger than anything else." He's serious. "There's no more room for us to keep doubting it or treating it lightly."

She sighs. "Harry, things were a mess to us before because we weren't being totally honest with each other. We had to keep secrets. We had to lie. Of course that what we share is bigger than anything else or we wouldn't be here right now, my love. Not after you murdered those Aurors. Not after killing Lucius Malfoy. Not after the way I betrayed you." She whispers.

He gulps. "Let's start over. Everything."

"What do you mean?"

"We need to go through everything we shared and be totally honest with what happened. I want all the truth. You're the most important person to me in this world, Hermione. If we have to lie to others, we will, but not to each other. Not ever again. Deal?"

She opens a smile. "Deal, love." They share a kiss. Hermione sighs. "Okay." She nods to herself. "The night of the Fair. When we met."

He chuckles. Of course she'll want to do this chronologically. Detail by detail. "Okay. I thought you looked edible wearing that costume-"

She slaps his arm, a smile on her face. But she bites her lower lip, her eyes shining with a glint. "You looked so incredibly hot with that Hogwarts uniform." She chuckles with him. "I mean, can you imagine if we had gone to school together?" She gives him a kiss. "I would be all over you."

He squeezes her, his tongue in her mouth, both smiling while sharing this silly kiss. His mind plays a bit with the notion of knowing Hermione since they were eleven. Harry has no doubt that she was an adoring little girl. But bossy. Always bossy.

"Seriously, now." He says when he pulls back from the kiss. "Do you have any idea who might be behind the attack?"

She shakes her head. "No. Which annoys me to no end. I mean, now that we know the whole thing with the bullets being adulterated with Moritz's powders, I lean to suspect him, but," She makes a face, "I can't quite picture it. It's not his style. Not his thing. He wants to profit, that's all. That's his main goal and the reason why he began this traffic in the first place."

"I agree." Harry inhales deeply. "Hermione… have you considered your father as a suspect?"

She narrows her eyes. "It didn't cross my mind. The whole thing being orchestrated with Muggle guns to kill Purebloods and on that day…" She trails. Harry shrugs. Logically it doesn't make sense for Riddle to be behind this. "Did you write a message to your parents on that night?" She lowers her voice, asking softly.

He opens a sad smile. "Yeah." He kisses her. "Thank you for the flowers, by the way. It meant a lot."

She tilts her head, a fond but also sad smile on her face. "You're welcome." She whispers, kissing him again. He gulps, taking a moment to feel the pain. Hermione only soothes him with a hug.

Sighing, he says, "So, we don't know the responsible for the attack. But what about our theory of a traitor?"

"I-" She looks down, in deep thought. "Someone surely knew about the wards and how the place was going to be protected-"

"But what if…" He stops, thinking, "the powders surely enabled whoever did this. I don't think they needed informations on the wards or whatever."

She nods. "It's possible. The thing about considering a traitor is that… I don't see it. I can't imagine any of the people involved with that mission doing something like this. Killing ninety-eight wizards-"

"Too cruel." Harry whispers. "So, no traitor?"

"No traitor. We agree the powders were enough for whoever did this, right?"

"Agreed." His hand goes up and down her thigh. "And we can't forget that someone tried killing you." He can feel certain anger inside him, a murderous desire to protect his mate.

"More than once." She makes a face, but doesn't seem too worried about it. "Okay. I have to ask because I've been dying to know what you talked with my father that day inside his office. After the Fair. When you got back."

He makes a face, trying to remember details. "Nothing much. He asked a bit about me, about my grandfather. He mostly wanted to know if I was a Muggle sympathizer. And find me a bride."

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Do you believe me if I say that… when you mentioned this at the night club I was already jealous?"

Harry squeezes her waist. "Jealous Hermione is one of my favorites." He provokes her and she chuckles. "For real, though? When I first realized you and Pettigrew were a couple, I felt… something. I was jealous for sure."

She raises one eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah, but I mean, you being a Riddle and all… I couldn't fall in love with you, could I?"

"And how did that work out for you?" She jokes.

He shakes his head. "Amazing, actually." He says, serious. He cups her cheek and kisses her gently. "I tried so much to resist you, love. But I'm so glad I didn't. I'm so glad you dragged me into that basement at the Manor."

"Fuck, me too." She says, kissing him. Then she focus back on their conversation, "That day, when he talked with you, I went to his office… it was when we sealed the binding obedience."

"I knew he would consider me a threat." Harry whispers. "And I'm sorry he used you this way. I'm sorry you had no way of stopping this."

"But it led us to this moment. We wouldn't be here if things hadn't happened the way they did. And now, we're very sure of what we feel and what we want. We've come a long way since that first encounter in front of that statue." He can smell how calm she is. "Harry, why didn't you disguise yourself? I mean… everyone who knew James surely can see the clear resemblance."

He shrugs. "I don't know. I guess I was a bit too confident. And I thought everyone wanted to forget about the Potters. My grandfather used to tell me that people couldn't see what was right in front of them."

Hermione makes a face. And he can smell some suspicion from her… he waits. She doesn't say a thing. She only nods.

"But they recognized you, didn't they? Everyone." She gives him a pointed look and he raises one eyebrow. She's talking about Sirius, Remus, all of them. "I imagine you can't tell me about it, right?" He nods, smiling apologetically. She sighs. "I can't stand all these lies anymore. I'm so fed up with all of this. All these secrets and agendas. This kind of thing has kept me from my friends our entire adult lives." She whispers the last words.

Harry frowns. "They love you, Hermione."

"Do they?" She asks, unsure. He can smell her sadness. "I mean, I'm often left out of everything-"

"Because they're not sure if…" Harry gulps. "Tom Riddle is your father, Hermione." He states and she nods, understanding, but not liking it. "And… Molly and Arthur were close to the Potters. Sirius and Remus were their best friends. You get it, don't you?"

"I do." She looks down. He knows she's sad. He kisses her temple, bringing her to him, impossibly closer. "And in a way I never- I got used to keep things to myself, you know? I never told anyone about all the horrible things my father did to me. I always tried to solve everything alone because that way…" She inhales deeply, "That way if I screwed up my father wouldn't be able to blame it on them. He punished me enough, Harry. I couldn't stand the thought of him punishing my friends."

He bites his lower lip, angry. But he tries to soothe her. "I get it. Maybe all you need is a conversation. Or showing them that-" He stops. "Hermione, you don't have to do it all by yourself. Believe me, they want to help. I want to help." He cups her cheek, looking into her eyes. "Enough of carrying the world on your shoulders. I'm here to share the good and the bad with you. We're partners, my love." He gives her a gentle peck. "Okay?"

She nods, making a pained face. "You're right. I- what happened between me and Sally, Harry-" She sighs, "It was because my father used the binding obedience. I had to do it. And I never told them the truth. I let her believe that-"

"Why? Why you want to hide how good and amazing you are? Why you don't want them to know how much you protect them? How much you do for all of them? Why keep hiding your amazing heart? Why keep this all inside? Just like you did with me." He shakes his head, kissing her again, a pain in his chest. "You let them believe you're a monster and you don't give them the chance to question it. Why?"

"Because…" She closes her eyes. "I'm so afraid, Harry. All the time." She whispers. "Afraid of opening up and- I can't fail. I can't be weak. I can't show affection. I don't want my father knowing or understanding how much they mean to me! I- he hits me constantly and-"

"What?" His whole body tenses. And he can feel again that murderous need to- "What are you talking about?" He moves to look at her properly.

Hermione seems ashamed. And he can smell it. "Well, he hits me with… magic."

"Are you serious?" She shrugs, looking away from him. Harry snorts. He's so fucking angry. And the glass from the bedroom window cracks. He clears his throat. Hermione sighs, moving her wrist and fixing it. "Sorry." He mumbles, not really sorry. "When was the last time he hit you?" He asks, dreading the answer.

"He tried on the day I freed you." Harry squeezes her waist, shaking his head and not believing this shit. "He couldn't land the blow, though. I protected myself."

"Fuck." He says under his breath. There's a beast roaring inside him, wanting to be released, wanting to rip Riddle's throat open.

"Calm down, Harry." Just when he hears her words he realizes he's snarling, gritting his teeth with force. She kisses his cheek, moving his head to her, kissing his lips. "I'm fine. I'm here."

"I know." He takes a deep breath. "I know." He reassures himself, hugging her, nuzzling her again for the hundredth time. "Just to think about you suffering in his hands-" He closes his eyes. "It kills me." Because all he wants is to protect her. Love her. Worship her.

She moves to his lap, straddling him, her hands on his hair, her lips finding his. Hermione kisses him softly. Little pecks, adoring pecks. But she rocks her hips, grazing on his cock, searching for a friction. He squeezes her breast, their kisses escalating, their tongues meeting. Harry tugs at her hair, moving her head slightly, giving him access to her neck.

In a beat her hand is stroking him, slowly. She goes up and down and then, she touches herself. He groans, kissing her again while she keeps touching him and then touching herself.

Harry pinches her nipple, loving her soft moan, loving the way she squirms when his hand finds her hot entrance, his fingers teasing her while their tongues keep meeting sloppily. And when she moves down on his hard cock, he sees stars.

He leans his head back, exhaling heavily and closing his eyes. Her teeth find his neck, biting gently, her tongue going over his skin.

And Hermione moves. Up and down on him. He holds her by the ass, helping, moving his hips the best he can too. They touch their foreheads, both too overwhelmed to say anything.

Harry slows down the rhythm, holding her, breathing hard. They lock their eyes. She rocks her hips. He bites her lips. And his fingers move to her clit. Hermione clenches her walls around him, moaning a bit louder, shaking. It's so fucking hot being inside her and making her moan like this. She tugs on his hair, hurting a bit. He doesn't stop, though. Involuntarily she moves her hips, seeking the perfect contact.

And he knows exactly when she finds it.

Her orgasm washes over her powerfully.

Hermione closes her eyes and says his name in a way that makes it sounds like a dirty word. She leans back and he runs his tongue on her nipples, on her tattoo, extremely taken by her body. Fascinated by the thin layer of sweat on her skin and the necklace around her neck: the only thing she's wearing.

He lets her take a few breaths to slow down her heart, and then, he moves, sliding out of her. Hermione complains at the loss of contact, opening her eyes and looking at him.

Not so gently, he kneels and moves her on the bed, her stomach down. Then he brings her hips up and-

Harry groans animalistically when he enters her again. Hermione fists the sheets and he thrusts hard, deep. He can see some bruises on her skin, ones he's leaving all over her body while squeezing her flesh. And he loves each one of them.

It doesn't take much for him to find his release. It's like a wave crashing, taking away his breath and blinding him for a second. His mind is filled with her scent and the feel of being inside her. Perfect.

Groaning, he lets himself fall over, on her back. Hermione chuckles, breathing hard. She turns her head to kiss him.

My mate. He can feel in his whole being. This bond for life.

"I'll never get enough of this." He says, moving to the side to lie on his back, smiling.

"Me neither." She lies on top of him and Harry hugs her.

He opens his mouth to say how much he loves her but a loud sound coming from her stomach stops him.

They laugh loudly.

"All this sex and no food. What the fuck are we thinking?" Hermione complains.

And instinctively he feels a powerful urge inside him. "What do you wanna eat? Tell me, I'll fetch everything." He's already getting up, cleaning himself and summoning his clothes.

Hermione is watching him, amused. "Is this a mate thing? The need to feed me?"

He groans. "I think so." He's in actual pain knowing that she's hungry. "Fuck, just tell me what you wanna eat." In a blink he's dressed.

"Anything, love. Whatever you want."

He makes a face. Not exactly the answer he wanted to hear, but he leans to kiss her. "I'll be right back. Don't fucking go anywhere."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

---

When he enters the house through the french window at the kitchen, Hermione perks up to see what he brought them. She took a quick shower and went to her house to fetch Crookshanks. If she's spending the whole night and probably the next few days here with Harry, she wants the cat to be with them.

"Hermione?" He calls her, and they meet in the middle of the living room. Harry opens a huge smile, hugging her. "You went to your house." He states. It's freaky the way he can smell everything with this werewolf trait. He pulls back to look at her. "Where's the cat?" He narrows his eyes.

And it crosses her mind that maybe a wolfy Harry won't get along with a cat. "Is it a problem? I can take him back."

"No, no." He chuckles. "It's fine. I mean, oddly is like I can understand him better this way." Just as he says this, Crookshanks comes to him, rubbing on his leg. Harry watches, entertained. But soon his attention is back on her. "So, I brought us everything. Come."

They walk to the kitchen and she can tell that he's restless, wanting her to eat. Hermione stops when she sees the amount of food laid on her table. She blinks, opening her mouth. He surely went over the top.

"Are we feeding a battalion?" She asks, half baffled, half extremely amused.

She can see a lot of pasta, breads, cheeses, bottles of wine, meat, two pies, four pints of ice cream, and some wrapped sandwiches.

"Yeah, maybe I got carried away-"

Hermione shuts him up with a kiss and a smile. "It's fine. Thank you so much for this."

He opens the biggest smile ever. She's sure he can smell how glad she is. And Hermione sits down with him to eat. They sit side by side, wanting to be close. They would eat holding hands if it didn't get in their way.

"So," She says, chewing the amazing bread, dipping it in some kind of sauce that she can't be quite sure what it is, but it tastes like heaven. "I have to confess that before we practiced the Traditional I was reading articles about you." She smiles apologetically.

He snorts, chewing his food. "Well, love, I did the same thing. And I have to say, it was hard finding anything on you, which surprised me a lot. I mean, the Head Auror and not even one decent article?"

She sighs. "My father doesn't want me giving interviews or talking about myself. He used to say it was to protect me, but I doubt it."

"What are his reasons, then?"

"I think…" She stops, pondering. It's been a while since she last considered this. "I've always fought a lot with him, Harry. I know that superficially it may seem that I obey him blindly, but it's not like that. Before I got the position as Head, I used to had endless arguments with him from the silliest things to the most important ones. I never agreed with the way he treats Magical Creatures like house elves, centaurs and such. And I expressed my displeasure with the way he casted Half-Bloods and Muggleborns from Society almost every day. But these conversations happened inside the Manor, at closed doors, things I wouldn't dare repeat outside his study." He's making a face, probably wanting to murder her father for the hundredth time. "Maybe he feared I would express these thoughts in interviews. Whenever the Prophet or any other newspaper or magazine write about the Ministry and Auror's actions, they want an interview. I never gave one."

Watching her closely, he says, "Maybe now is the time to give one. With everything around Moritz… You're respected, Hermione. People look up to you even with your image under the radar. You do remember Hannah, don't you?" She nods, glad that they saved mother and daughter. "Imagine if everyone could see you the way I see you." He whispers and she opens a smile. "You have to speak." He shuts his mouth and she knows he's holding something back.

"Say it. Blurt it out. No more secrets, Harry. No more lies."

He nods, chewing his favorite cheese. Gorgonzola. "Okay. Okay. Your opposing opinion to the way your father do things might be the first step to take him down."

His words make her think about the enormity of him being a Potter. How this could change everything. And it makes her nervous. Harry can smell it. He squeezes her hand.

"Love, do you have any idea…" She begins and takes a deep breath. Before she wouldn't share this with him, but now, she can't ask him to be honest and not do the same. "How you being a Potter is a fucking big deal?"

"In what sense?"

"All of them, Harry. People hate my father."

He frowns. "How come? It's so hard to see-"

"Because he blackmails most influential families." She shakes her head. "I've known this for a while, I found papers in his office and inside the Manor, in his study. I gave some of these papers to Matteo, for him to analyze and use against my father to set you free." She takes a bite on her sandwich to stop more words.

"I can smell your suspicion towards my grandfather, you know? Don't try to hide it."

She raises an eyebrow. "Maybe on the next full moon you should take a potion."

He laughs loudly. "You're impossible." Harry squeezes her thigh. "Tell me whatever it is, I can handle it."

She takes a deep breath. "Okay. So," He's waiting. "I'm sure that what I gave him was enough for my father to set you free or else I wouldn't have risked it all that way. I wouldn't have, in a million years, given you Veritaserum. It was your life on the line and I did what I did to save you." He nods, his eyes on hers. "On the day you walked free, my father and Matteo talked alone for almost an hour and… it makes me restless."

"You think there's more to it? Or you think Matteo didn't use what you gave him?"

"I don't know. We Vowed on it, Harry. I made a fucking Vow with your grandfather and he had to come and set you free." She stops.

"You didn't specify he had to use what you gave him?"

She opens her mouth. Fuck. "I didn't." She whispers. "I was so-" She closes her eyes. "It was so difficult doing that, Harry. I wouldn't be able to change my mind after I made that deal with him and it wrecked me. I guess I wasn't thinking properly. I just assumed he would do it."

He takes her hand, kissing it gently. Hermione wonders if he already understood what it all means. "Are you saying there's a chance that my grandfather didn't want to save me?"

He did. She breathes relieved. If Matteo didn't use what she gave him, he only pretended he was there to save Harry.

He's not dead out of pure luck.

"I don't know. And this is not a certainty, Harry. I might be wrong. But it was very strange and I've been questioning this since that day."

He looks down, not saying a word. She can tell he's shaken and it makes her anxious. They eat in silence for a while.

Finally, he sighs and breaks the silence.

"You don't need to be this nervous, love. It's fine. I- I can't say it's easy coming to this conclusion, but…" He shakes his head, "Since you told me you had made a Vow with him, I've been thinking about the way he talked about you when I got back to Rome. He knew all you had done and even so he wanted me to hate you, wanted me to keep my distance." She presses her lips together, a bit angry now. "You have no idea how much he tried." She can tell that he's sad. "I'm not saying he wanted me dead because it's too fucking hard accepting this, but I don't think you're far fetching or anything, there must be something to this and maybe I should… watch my steps when it comes to him."

The fact that her suspicions about his grandfather mean more to Harry than the man himself is… overwhelming.

"Harry, I don't want to drive a wedge between you two, I'm just sharing with you what I felt and thought."

"I know." He smiles, kissing her softly. "But there's something I need to show you." And she observes while he walks to what she assumes is the hanger at the entrance, he comes back with an envelope in his hand. "I went to the flat to fetch this. Matteo sent it days ago."

She takes the envelope. There's a letter inside and she reads it, her mouth opening more at each sentence, her jaw falling to her chest.

What- the- fuck-

Hermione snorts. In what reality is Matteo D'Angelo living? This makes no sense at all. She shakes her head when she finishes it and fetches the pictures inside.

Blinking, she stops. "Harry," She says, shocked, going through the photos. "What the fuck is this? I mean-" She frowns, not believing in the many places she was supposedly spotted with Asmodeus. Hermione sighs, "I wasn't with Asmodeus for the past month. I was alone. I saw him only on the day I got back."

Hermione honestly wants to scream at this.

Throwing the letter and the photos on the table, she turns on her chair to fully face him. "Listen to me." She holds his face. "I love you, Harry. With all my heart. I wasn't with Asmodeus. The last time before tonight that I had sex was with you, many months ago. Is that clear? There's no one else for me, nothing else matters besides us." She closes her eyes and he brings her to his lap. She straddles him, his lips finding her cheek in a gentle kiss. "Enough of people trying to keep us apart, I've reached my limit with this kind of bullshit. And I beg you to never doubt my feelings, never again."

He shakes his head.

"I know. Hey, look at me. It's the same for me. The same. My heart kept denying everything you said when I was inside that cell because I knew that what we share was way too strong to be a lie. But these kind of things," He takes one picture, "Your own words while I was a prisoner, and my own grandfather manipulating me into hating you… it all confused me a lot, Hermione." She nods, understanding. "And I'm sorry for that. So sorry." He says in a whisper and she kisses him, both sighing. "Nothing more will come between us. Nothing."

She runs a hand through his hair, their eyes locked.

It's a comfortable silence.

Until her mind goes back to the pictures on the table. She takes one. In it, the woman that is certainly Polyjuiced as her and Asmo are holding hands, walking just in front of a night club which has an endless queue of wizards and witches waiting to be allowed inside.

"How the hell was he able to make a polyjuice potion with my hair?" She raises one eyebrow. "I'm very protected, it's almost impossible to get it right since I performed a protective spell on my hair to stop this."

"Almost impossible is not the same as impossible. Not to mention that this jerk certainly has access to Moritz's powders."

Making a face, she kinda of agrees. "Do you know which spy Matteo is referring to?" She asks, a theory forming itself inside her mind.

"He has many. But I could ask him. I'm sending him letters, giving reports on what's happening here." She makes a face and Harry squeezes her waist. "What are you thinking?"

"Someone is going to frame me, Harry." She whispers. "No, not someone. Matteo."

Harry makes a sound, closing his eyes. "He might. Pettigrew was testing the powders, right?"

"Yes. He said to me that he spent the last month doing favors for Peter."

They share a look. "The Pettigrews, Moritz-"

"And my father." Harry takes a deep breath, she can see how furious he gets whenever they mention Tom Riddle. "Well, fuck." Grunting, she hugs him, letting her body relax, her face on his chest. Harry holds her firmly on his lap. "Can't we get a break? I mean. Shit. Since we've known each other everything has been so crazy."

He snorts, kissing her head. "Indeed." And he must feel her distress because he completely changes the subject, "We still need to go through everything we shared, chronologically." She smiles. He's making fun of her and she pinches his bicep. "Ouch. Angry woman."

She moves her head to kiss him again. Then she rubs her cheek on his, loving the feel of his beard. "I love the beard." She says, "And the hair."

"I love your tan, I mean, wow. You have to tell me everything you did this past month. Every place you visited and such." He kisses her neck.

"I'll." She pulls away from him, going back to her seat. He makes a face. She also misses his warmth. But Hermione is still hungry and she wants to keep eating. And talking. If she stays for a minute longer on his lap they'll be doing other things. He seems to understand and he goes back to his own food. "So, chronologically," She mocks, "where were we?"

"Well, you were confessing to reading articles about me." She snorts, nodding, not mentioning that he was doing the same. "And then we had our dancing lesson."

Hermione inhales deeply. "That lesson." She raises one eyebrow. Harry can smell how thinking about it arouses her and he cocks his head.

"I had no idea you were so horny that day."

"It was the first time I realized I really wanted to kiss you. And my Patronus behaved weirdly with you. It was quite a moment for me."

"Is that so?" He looks genuinely surprised. "Well, I really wanted to kiss you too. I confess I almost did."

She chuckles. "Can you imagine what would have happened? I think I would have slapped you."

He opens his mouth, outraged. "Why?"

"Because, well, I still thought I loved Asmo back then."

He sets his jaw, taking a deep breath. "I see." He says through gritted teeth.

"Oh, come on. Don't give me that. You were still in love with Chiara at the time."

"I was not!" He says, appalled.

She shrugs, "It seemed so." And she takes another bite, opening a smile to him, provoking.

Harry snorts. "Fine. Well, I have something to say about my Patronus." She keeps eating, waiting. "The lion isn't my real Patronus."

This surprises her. "Is it not?" Hermione blinks. Her mind going to a place where she wonders if her serpent would have had the Perfect Harmony with his true Patronus. And she dreads the answer, because, what if-

Feeling her anxiousness, he puts a hand on her thigh. "Relax. I'm sure the real one is ready and eager to bow to you." It doesn't calm her. He frowns. "We can dance the Traditional again if you want to."

She gulps, nervous. "I- I'm just thinking if the outcome would have been different-"

"You think so? Really, love?" He gives her a pointed look, obvious in the meaning. "And to be honest, I loved you before we had that dance, I wanted you before that even became a reality."

"I know. It's just… having the Perfect Harmony with you was a huge deal for me, Harry. You have no idea. I dreamed about it happening my whole life." She whispers.

He smiles fondly. "I don't think you need to worry about it, but as I said, if you want to, we can dance again. I don't mind. Do you wanna do it now?"

She laughs. "We need people to applaud us. Nah, it's okay. So, what's your real Patronus?"

Harry stands from the chair, looking at her, "Ready?" She nods.

He moves his hands in the air and in a second his Patronus appears. Hermione blinks, mesmerized. She stands from the chair, in shock.

"Oh, Harry." It's an awed and pained whisper.

There's an adult Thestral in front of her.

And it's majestic.

Hermione takes a step to it and the Patronus immediately turns to her, its huge wings open. And as Harry said, it bows, very low, one of its front legs bending.

Her heart is beating faster when she touches its head. It's exhilarating. She thought she already had felt everything she could with his lion totally at her feet, but no. This is more. This is-

She has no words.

He hugs her from behind, leaving a kiss on her shoulder. "See? What did I tell you?"

Some tears are falling down her face. For his Patronus to be a Thestral…

"Your parents?" Her voice wavers.

"I think so." He whispers.

The Thestral comes closer to them and Hermione observes every little detail.

It's such a powerful Patronus.

"It's beautiful." She whispers.

"Really? Most people are afraid of them."

She shakes her head. "Foolish people." His arms tighten around her. "They're clever and loyal. And their appearance might suggest they're dangerous, but in reality they're very… soft." She opens a smile, turning her face to him. "Like you."

He kisses her and the Thestral lies down, closing its wings.

"Let's see if it gets along with yours." He says, their mouths close.

In a second her serpent is there and she holds her breath. Harry too. He wants to be cool about it, but Hermione can tell that deep down he's also nervous. What if they don't get along-

The Thestral observes the serpent, opening one wing. And Hermione's Patronus slithers calmly in its direction. Suddenly the serpent vanishes under the wing and they share a look.

When it reappears, it's already closing around the Thestral body, its tongue darting out as naturally as possible. Harry's Patronus closes its wings again and the serpent goes to wrap itself around the Thestral's neck, loosely, comfortably.

And that's it. They stay that way, peacefully.

Harry raises one eyebrow and Hermione exhales relieved. And in a low voice, she shares a secret with him.

"I've seen them. In Hogwarts. Thestrals."

He turns her in his arms, his face serious. "Who?"

She swallows a lump in her throat. "I'm not sure… my mother told me that when I was pretty young I saw my father having a meeting that didn't end well. She told me it was an accident. But I doubt it."

"Do you remember?"

"Not really. But… a sensation of loss lingers on me. And I felt it every time I saw a Thestral."

He rubs her arms with his hands, "I get it. I feel the same."

"Harry," She touches his face, "I'm so sorry about your parents. I wished I had the chance of meeting them, of telling them how much I love their son-"

He clears his throat and she stops. Harry shakes his head.

"I'll take you to meet my aunt." He whispers.

Hermione widens her eyes. Then she opens a bright smile.

"You found her?"

"I did." His smile is similar to hers.

They share another tender kiss.

"I'm glad, love. You deserve it. You deserve a family."

She flinches, hurt by her own words. Hermione presses her lips together. She doesn't want to cry about this again, but Harry can smell her sadness, how hurtful this reality is.

"Hey." He moves her chin up to look at him. "You're enough for me, Hermione." She's crying. "I hope I'm enough for you too."

"You are. You are, love. But be honest with me," Her voice breaks, "You can't tell me that you never thought about having kids, Harry."

He looks down, then at her again. "Of course that having them would be incredible. But it's not everything. I love all of you and as I said, if this is it, then this is it. I won't dwell on how things might have been as you also shouldn't."

He lets her cry a bit, his Patronus raising its head to look, sniffing Hermione, its head bumping on her leg. Comforting her.

She chuckles sadly, trying to calm down.

"Come, we still have a lot to talk about." He says and extinguishes his Patronus. She does the same and they sit back at the table.

For a while they don't say a word, their only motion, the chewing. But in a way she lost her appetite. Harry puts a hand on her thigh, trying to soothe her and she thanks him with a little smile.

---

He watches her, wary. Even without the werewolf traits, he would be able to tell how sad she is. It hurts. To imagine all she's been through. What she had to endure. How. Tom Riddle was the responsible for the death of his parents, but Hermione had to live with this monster her entire life.

"Look at me." He says, taking her hand. Hermione is trying her best not to show how devastated she is, surely thoughts of how she can't have children haunting her. "I grew up with a man that wanted me to be perfect, trained me to exhaustion, but I know how fortunate I was when it comes to his affection. He never laid a hand on me. He was harsh, yes. Demanding also. And many times cold towards me and my achievements. But even so he never stopped showing how proud of me he was and I grew up with loving parents. I had many friends and a healthy childhood. I went to school and it was the most fun I had in my entire life." Not like it was for her: an escape from a terrible home. She's listening with all her attention. "I gave my all to be the best Auror, and, working in Rome, dealing with the Mafias, it was easy for me. I was doing my job and I was the best at it." She opens a smile. "But everything changed when I got here." He inhales deeply.

Hermione runs a thumb on his hand. "Why?" She asks, her voice faint. Her scent is changing, so he knows his words are distracting her a bit.

"To be completely honest, I don't even know if this revenge was my idea or Matteo's. I stalled as much as I could… deep down I knew this wouldn't bring my parents back. And coming here, meeting all my parents' friends who supposedly betrayed them, having to be submissive to Tom Riddle and going through with a revenge that would destroy his family felt like too much. On top of everything I had to stay alive and get away with it." He raises an eyebrow and she shakes her head.

"Crazy man."

"Right?" He gives her a peck. "It was hard as it was… but then I met the Head Auror," He sighs, "And let me tell you, she rocked my world." Hermione chuckles. He's glad he's changing her mood. "It was hard focusing on a plan while having my head consumed by you, love." He whispers. "It was impossible to imagine myself hurting you or making you suffer. You changed everything. You changed me."

"Harry." She whines, kissing him again. "You changed everything for me too." She says in a low voice.

He touches her forehead with his before continuing, "And the attack at the Fair, everything that's been happening, it took my focus away from my revenge and I saw myself thinking about it less and less. I only wanted to be with you. Only wanted to protect you."

"Me too."

"And now, as I look back at it, with you by my side, with you knowing everything… it feels small. The revenge feels petty. It shouldn't be only about me. Your father has to pay for a lot more, Hermione. For what he did to my parents, yes, but also for what he did to you. To your mother. To Half-Bloods, to Muggleborns. To everyone. I used to think that I was here to do this, but I knew it was impossible for me to do it on my own." She cocks her head, "Maybe I was misguided and wrong in many actions I took, like… killing the Aurors." She presses her lips together. "Maybe I acted recklessly many times, I mean, I had no actual plan when I went to save Lucinda and her daughter," Hermione snorts, "But, Hermione, with you by my side, I know we can do it. We can change it all. Together."

She takes a deep breath. He knows it's too much. He always felt like it was, but with her… sharing this, doing it together-

It seems easy.

There's no reason to be afraid or hesitant anymore.

"Harry, I want you to understand that from now on, I'll always be by your side. Always."

He opens a huge smile. "Yeah?" Dio. He loves this woman so much.

"Yeah."

Not resisting it he hugs her again, tightly. Nuzzling on her neck. She laughs. And he lifts her up, setting her on the table, vanishing with the food. He positions himself between her legs, his intention clear. He knows she wants this too.

Kissing her slowly, he moves to take off her sweatpants and she helps him, raising her hip, her hands already going to his zipper. Harry helps her, pushing his jeans and underwear down to his knees. Without rush they keep kissing, their hands exploring each other's bodies.

He raises her legs, opening them more, exposing her to him. She's still wearing her white underwear and he presses his fingers against her hot core through it. Hermione sighs, moving her hips to meet his hand, seeking the friction, her tongue on his.

Very patiently he takes his time provoking her, teasing and driving her to the edge. Their kisses hot, his ministrations merciless. Just when he's sure she's about to come, he pulls back, earning a groan from her. Hermione opens her eyes, her cheeks are a bit red and she's breathing hard, her chest moving up and down frenetically. He can smell and hear every aspect of her arousal, of her need for him.

She opens a beautiful smile, pulling him to her by the t-shirt, kissing him with love and desire.

He can't stop smiling himself.

Harry vanishes with her panties and slowly enters her, already very hard and throbbing. Hermione leans back, her arms holding him tighter.

He enters her practically to the hilt, exhaling heavily, feeling her, all of her.

Their lovemaking is slow and deep.

Breathtaking.

Their eyes lock and the only thing he can see while he moves in and out are her chocolate brown irises, perfect and bewitching.

They reach their orgasms together, holding on to each other and moaning softly.

And it's like the rush from the full moon and the many hours they've been awake talking and having sex finally catches up to him. Harry hugs her, exhausted. His legs a bit wobbly from the orgasm and from a sudden need to lie down.

Hermione chuckles, kissing his face.

"I think we should sleep." Her hands are caressing his hair and he only mumbles an answer, still inside her, his forehead on her shoulder. He's not sure he has the strength to go to the bedroom.

It's all a blur, but Harry is sure that Hermione levitates him to the bed. And he sleeps peacefully with his arms around her.

---

When he wakes next, even without opening his eyes, he can tell is already sunny outside, the light invading the bedroom. His hands search for Hermione on the bed, but the only thing he finds is Crookshanks' fluffy tail. Harry snorts, his heart swelling, happiness crashing over him.

"Morning." She says from somewhere in the room and he opens his eyes, stretching. He's only in his boxers.

Hermione is sitting on the armchair close to the window, she has a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. And she's wearing his t-shirt, which feeds a masculine pride inside of him. Mine. She's mine.

"Morning." He says back, his voice hoarse. He still feels a bit tired, he surely needs more sleep, but he won't dare to close his eyes and miss the sight of her. "Have I slept too much?"

"Nah, it's noon." She states calmly and he widens his eyes. Then he remembers it's Saturday. They don't need to go to the Ministry. "I think it was already 5am when we came up to sleep." She closes the book and puts it on top of a pile next to the chair. Harry recognizes the cover. Invisible Cities. His smile gets wider.

He pats the bed by his side. "Come lie down with me." He calls her and she raises one eyebrow, finishing the tea.

"I was thinking…" She says, standing from the chair and crossing her arms. "What about skinny-dipping?" He widens his eyes. Fuck, yes.

He's up in a second and she laughs out loud, rushing out of the bedroom. Harry follows her, his heart beating fast at the chase. In no time they're outside and Hermione is murmuring a spell to conceal them from prying eyes.

He gets rid of his boxers in a blink and she tosses his t-shirt on the platform, running to the lake, already naked, her tattoo exposed. His also.

Hermione dives elegantly, swimming with grace. But Harry doesn't care, diligently protecting his parts, he cannon balls into the lake, splashing water all over. When he resurfaces, he shakes his head, his hair throwing the water everywhere, very much like a dog.

She's laughing and he goes to her, his arms closing around her, her legs closing around him. They kiss with passion, enjoying the moment.

And while they stay there, they don't talk about plans on how to take Riddle down or where Moritz might be. They talk about their childhoods and how they used to have fun at their teenage years. They share experiences and laugh about them.

They compete to see who's the fastest swimmer and Harry can't believe Hermione actually thought she would be faster. He wins with a good advantage and she calls him all kinds of dirty names.

And then they fuck on the platform. Still wet and concealed from people's eyes.

It's a perfect morning.

---

He's sleeping peacefully again. All the swimming and such took a lot from him.

With her back against the headboard and her legs in front of her, in her sitting position, Hermione watches him.

It feels surreal.

To have him on her bed, sleeping, one of his hands on her thigh, the one that can reach her at the position he's in. She's not as tired as he is and it must be something from the whole werewolf thing.

She moves a hand to caress his hair.

They still have a lot to talk about, but Hermione is not anxious. She knows they'll settle all their scores. And then she needs to have a conversation with all her friends. With Sirius and Remus and Molly and-

All of them.

She's pretty confident that her and Harry can change everything, turn the Ministry and Wizarding London upside down, but with the counselors by their side, it will be even easier. And Hermione can't help questioning why they haven't done it yet.

Deep down she knows why.

Her father is too powerful and in an unconscious way they all know it. Dread it. Maybe after years they settled into a life where they don't want to risk their families for something they're not even sure is worth it.

But she knows she won't be able to live another day without acting against her father. And now with Harry she has all she needs to do it.

Hermione sighs, looking out the window. It's a clear and warm afternoon. Harry moves on the bed, seeking her. She smiles when he comes to her, his arms closing around her legs, his face on her lap.

"What are you doing?" He mumbles, leaving a kiss on her stomach, still very sleepy.

"Thinking." She answers.

Crookshanks climbs the bed and lies down on Harry's back. She snorts.

"He loves me." Harry says with a muffled voice. He's nuzzling her. Again. She lost count how many times he already did that since yesterday evening. "I can't get enough of your smell." He says, answering an unspoken question.

"I can see that. How is it? My smell to you?"

He inhales deeply and she waits, her fingers caressing his hair.

"Like belonging."

She stops, opening her mouth and blinking. "Didn't know belonging had a smell." Her voice is low, soft.

"Me neither. But apparently, it does." He takes another deep breath. "Belonging and love and security and the most delicious and edible woman in the whole world."

She shakes her head, chuckling. "So, almost like a foccacia and some espressos to you."

He laughs out loud, shaking on the bed, Crookshanks trembles as if there's an earthquake happening. The cat meows and moves away from Harry's back, angry.

They laugh harder and Harry moves to lie on his back, his head up, looking at her, but still on her lap. He takes one of her hands and kisses it gently.

"What were you thinking?"

"That we still have a lot to talk about, and I need to have a conversation with… everyone." She states and he nods, serious.

"You do. And I'll be there with you."

She sighs.

"Where were we? Chronologically?" Hermione asks and they both chuckle.

"Hmmmm, let me think." He makes a face and she finds him adorable. Perfect. "The dancing lesson?" He frowns. "Right. We established that you still loved that stronzo-"

She shuts his jealousy with a kiss, leaning to him, their lips meeting, gently.

"Right, then what happened?" She asks, her memory failing her a bit, "Ah, yes, Lucinda Summers and all that."

Harry opens a smile, but before he says a thing, a Patronus enters the bedroom and they both hold their breathes.

But it's Chiara's.

"Harry, where are you? You said you wouldn't go out on a full moon and I'm pretty sure you didn't sleep in. Please tell me you're with Hermione. Please. I've had enough of your drama. If you're there, Hermione, send me a message. I'm waiting."

Hermione snorts, summoning the coin she fortunately brought with her, to her hand. Harry watches, surprised.

"You have a coin with her!?"

She shrugs. "You didn't want yours back, so." She makes a face, sending Chiara a message, saying that she doesn't need to worry, they're fine.

"You two." He mumbles. "I'm very curious to know how this happened."

Hermione raises a hand, "We'll get there, don't worry."

He snorts. "Before we talk about Lucinda, love, I have to say that you throwing Pettigrew against that wall to protect me was one of the hottest things ever. I wanted to ravish you."

"Oh." She smiles, her hand on his chest. "I felt murderous when I saw he was trying to punch you. Only I can punch you." She gives him a peck.

"You sure can." He agrees, smiling mischievously. "So, Lucinda-"

"Yeah, right. I felt so bad for Hannah, love. The moment she opened the door I knew she was a squib. There was no other explanation for her to be there."

"I guess it didn't cross my mind immediately because things are so different in Italy," He scrunches his face, "But I'm glad we saved them, it was the right thing to do."

"It was." Hermione says, "We never talked about the man she mentioned. You remember? The one who blackmailed her?" She blinks. "Why we never tried finding him?"

There's something strange. As she tries thinking about it, there's only a blank. She can't recall why she never started an investigation on this, why she never tried finding this man.

"You're worried." He states, "But it's surely strange. Why, indeed?"

"Harry, everyone heard the interrogation and what she said, but no one talked about the man after…" She inhales sharply, "You think Moritz has something to do with it?"

"A powder? A spell at the suggestion of him?"

"Yes, something to repel us from… thinking about it."

"Could be, but how? How it reached us? Lucinda only mentioned him, she remembered him."

She raises one eyebrow, thinking. "I don't know. But it's too strange."

"There's more to it." He says. "The man surely was the one responsible for the attack." She nods, agreeing.

"Fuck. I should have seen Lucinda's memory. I didn't even think about it." She exhales heavily, pressing two fingers against her temple.

"Hey, we'll figure it out." Harry says, soothing her. "We won't forget again."

She gulps, "Okay." She moves her hand up and down his chest and abs, feeling his delicious muscles. It crosses her mind that this man is all hers and she can't help feeling a bit giddy.

He narrows his eyes. "Okay, how you went so fast from worried to horny?"

Inevitably she chuckles and kisses him again, "Are these werewolf traits never wearing off?"

"From what I gathered, I think they'll last at least three days."

"But the moon is not even there." Hermione points outside.

"Doesn't matter. The sun and the moon are always out there, love. Just because we can't see them doesn't mean they're not there." She raises one eyebrow. "To be honest the traits are fainter now, but I think they'll come back at their max at night."

"Probably." She sighs. "I have a confession to make." He visibly tenses and she blurts it out, "On that day when we went to Lucinda Summers' and you said that you were going to practice with Sally and have dinner with the Blacks, I was insanely jealous and I saw when you arrived at Grimmauld. I kinda of stalked you. I saw you two kissing outside." She makes a face.

Harry is surprised. "So, I have a stalker." He kisses her belly. "Hm. Should I be worried or horny?"

She snorts. "I was already losing my mind back then, obsessed with you."

"I was there but I kept thinking about you." He whispers. "I loved the picture with all of you by the way, Narcissa, your mother, Draco, Sirius…" He teases.

She rolls her eyes, "Family." She bites her lower lip, thinking if she should say this or not… "On the next morning after saving Lucinda, I knew it was you on the bed with me, Harry." She whispers provocatively. "And I wanted so bad to have sex with you on that day."

He inhales sharply, looking at her intensively. "You did?" He gulps. "I was ready to do it, you surely felt it, didn't you?" His voice- She presses her lips and thighs together. Harry groans.

"We're way too horny." She says, trying to change the mood. They'll never finish this talk if they keep interrupting it to have mind blowing sex and then falling asleep or being starved. She clears her throat. "Then we had the Ball."

He sighs, playing with her hand that he's holding. "Hmmm." He wiggles his eyebrows, "I remember sharing an amazing dance with the most gorgeous woman in that place. And I have to be honest, I was so relieved that you weren't going to dance with Pettigrew." He kisses her hand. "I wanted to dance with you. My soulmate."

She cups his cheek, opening a small smile. "That dance was monumental." He nods. "It was… belonging."

"Exactly." He kisses her hand again. "And the sex after, Dio mio." He whispers in his deep Italian and she feels hot inside.

But she gulps, "Do you remember that Mirror? Inside the basement?" He nods. "It's a magical Mirror. The Mirror of Erised." He makes a face. "Never heard of it?"

"I don't think so. It shows a desire?" He asks, widening his eyes.

"Our hearts' desire." She says and to her surprise, he blushes. A deep red, chuckling.

"You knew from that day that I wanted you." He states, shocked, still a bit red. She shrugs. "You witch!"

He starts to tickle her and Hermione laughs out loud, contorting herself, trying to run from him, but Harry sits on the bed and pulls her to him, between his legs, her back on his chest.

They calm down and he kisses her neck.

"What did you see? You seemed shaken by it." He asks in a low voice.

She takes a deep breath, looking down to their jointed hands on her stomach. "I saw myself holding my son." He tenses a bit behind her. "I went there after the Ball ended to be sure… it was our son, Harry. A little boy with your eyes. And you were there with me." She chokes, trying not to cry.

He holds her tighter. "My eyes?" He asks gently. "Surely a handsome little fella."

She chuckles lightly, feeling the pain and being amazed by the way he so naturally closes her wounds. "Indeed. Three years old, I think. The cutest thing." Hermione sighs, leaning her head back on him and accepting his kisses on her cheek and neck, his hands on her womb. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you, beautiful. With all my heart."

For a while they don't say a thing. There's nothing more Hermione wants to say anyway. Her mind is stuck at the image from the Mirror. Her big belly, the little boy in his arms, their wedding bands. Harry doesn't push. Even knowing that she's sad, he only holds her, both looking at the sky outside. The sun is setting and the clouds are tainted orange, which is mesmerizing and magical.

Finally, she says, "My mother was the one who shut down the french windows at the Ball. She used some of Moritz's powders she found inside the Manor. The man used to send samples to my father."

Harry scoffs. "You know that-"

"Yeah, we need to interrogate him. We will. Even knowing that it will get us nowhere, I don't care."

"But what if he's so surprised by it, angry, that he ends up saying something he shouldn't?"

"I wouldn't count on it, but well, who knows?" She takes a deep breath, "You know who invaded the Manor?"

"I know. And you'll too."

She nods, understanding. "Did you knew from the beginning or…?"

"I only found out when you were in Edinburgh. They drugged me, can you believe it?"

Hermione turns to look at him. "Not nice." She states, a bit amused.

"Right?" They smile, sharing a kiss.

"Harry, that day at the funeral…" She gulps, "I felt you dying. It was our bond. It saved you."

He sighs, pressing his face against hers, kissing gently. "I'm sorry I lied about Lucius. I really thought-"

"Doesn't matter. I understood."

He makes a face and she pulls a bit back to look into his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I- I was awful to you. This whole time." She frowns. "You understood me from the beginning and you found out I was a Potter and you just- fuck, you kept loving me. Knowing what I was doing and how I was lying to your face and-" He chokes, visibly in pain, "I feel terrible for it. For all you've been through because of me, protecting me, while I still doubted what you felt and-" He stops, pressing his lips together. Hermione looks down. She can't say it didn't hurt, because it did. And Harry can surely smell it on her. He squeezes her in his arms, whining. "I die inside knowing that I caused you pain. Forgive me, love. Please. I was so afraid and lost in trying to balance my love for you and the revenge that I-" He exhales heavily, she's pressing her lips together, holding back a few emotions. "I'm just glad that I have the rest of our lives to make it up to you." He whispers and she opens a small smile.

"Harry," She gives him a peck. "I'll be honest, it did hurt." He makes a pained sound, "But how could I not understand? You're human, my love. We have emotions. We already talked about this. We won't agree on everything and we're not perfect. If we have the rest of our lives together, I'm pretty sure we'll still hurt each other a few times." He looks down, his eyelashes wet from a few silent tears. "You're stupidly stubborn, hot headed and way too emotional. But, call me crazy, I love every flaw. You know why?" He shakes his head, "Because without these traits you wouldn't have this big heart." She presses a hand on his chest. "You're stubborn because you want the best for those you love. You're hot headed because you can't stand injustice. And your emotions, which push you to act before thinking, these are responsible for saving people, for being a terrific Auror and an amazing partner."

He has his mouth open, a bit shocked. He kisses her hard.

"I don't deserve you." He whispers.

She shakes her head. "I have a lot of issues, you know? So, you do deserve me." They share a laugh. "I'm not an easy girlfriend." She whispers.

"Uum. Really? Well, that's good actually, since you're my fiancee."

They share a smile. That smile only fools in love know how to open. "That's right." She kisses him, agreeing. "I guess I can be even harder to deal with, then."

He snorts. "Oh, I'm fucked when we do marry."

She laughs out loud. "In all aspects, Potter."

He blinks, stopping at the name. She waits to see if it's too much for him, but he gives her a peck, his arms closing around her with a new found force.

"I'm so fucking glad you're also going to be a Potter." He whispers to her. She smiles.

"Me too."

And even knowing that they shouldn't - because they need to talk - Hermione lets his hand slide down to her sex, and she enjoys every second of it.

---

This time he's the one watching her sleep. Hermione looks so peaceful he's a bit mesmerized. She has a smile on her face and he can't help wondering what she's dreaming about.

He sighs, his mind taking him to the image she told she saw in the Mirror. Our son. He runs a hand through his hair. He can't lie. It would be the happiest and most incredible thing of his life to have a family with her.

But the reality of it being an impossibility because of Tom Riddle is something that surely awakens a dangerous bloodlust inside him. He already imagined numerous ways of making Riddle suffer. Maybe he should conjure a ton of big ass thick needles and pin him to a wall with them, marvel at the way he would scream and bleed to death-

Harry shakes his head. He doesn't want to think about Riddle now. He wants to admire the woman he loves. And he does exactly that. One of her hands is on his stomach, even if she's a bit far from him on the bed, he knows that, just like him, she needs to feel that he's there.

It's her left hand on his stomach. The one which manifests their bond. The one which he'll put a diamond ring on. Then a wedding band. He opens a small smile. Her fingers are long and delicate, her nails always finding a way of provoking him. He realizes he loves her hand.

Then he snorts to himself.

He loves every little inch of her. Every bit.

And he wouldn't trade this love for anything in the world.

Since yesterday he feels like he's walking on clouds, flying high. It's undeniable that it crossed his mind that he should have told her who he really is many months ago. It could have changed everything for them. They could be living this dream for months and the notion that they lost this time is a bit painful.

But as he said, they have the rest of their lives ahead of them now. Harry will do everything in his power for this to be a reality. Not Riddle nor Matteo will stand in their way. There's absolutely no doubt inside him that they will try to break them apart once he and Hermione reveal their love and their engagement to everyone. But that will only happen if-

He chews the insides of his cheeks, they need to find the samples. If they don't… Harry gulps. He won't let Hermione marry that jerk. Not in a million years. And he knows he promised he wouldn't do stupid things, but how can he stand idly and watch while she binds herself to another man?

Fuck.

He knows that if they don't find the samples, the only way is… him revealing his identity. Taking away Pettigrew's leverage. But Hermione doesn't want that. She doesn't want him putting himself in this kind of danger after all she did to keep him safe. And he owes this to her.

It's a terrible situation. And he hates it.

To think that they still need to pretend at the Ministry kills him. Because there, if Pettigrew approaches her, she'll need to play her part and Harry gladly would break that stronzo's face apart if he had the chance-

"What's making you so angry?" She asks faintly, her eyes still closed, her hand on his stomach going up to his chest, above his heart, trying to calm him. "You're snarling."

He chuckles. "I hadn't even noticed." He exhales loudly, frustrated. "Fucking Pettigrew. Him touching you. I can't deal with it."

She moves on the bed, lying on her side to face him. Harry keeps her hand above his heart, loving the warmth and little weight there.

"I hate the situation too, Harry, but there's nothing we can do about it. At least for now."

Maybe it's the perfect moment to ask… "I saw you with him… days ago." She frowns. "I was going to see you at your office and you two were-" He stops, pursing his lips. The image of Pettigrew pressing her against the wall, his leg between hers, her hand in his hair, their faces together-

"Oh." She widens her eyes. And flinches. "I'm sorry you saw that. Fuck." She moves closer to him on the bed and Harry embraces her. Looking into his eyes, she says, "He noticed how irrevocably in love with you I am and he wanted to change our Vow. He wanted to forbid me from telling anyone about it." Harry snarls, tensing. "I refused, of course. But what you saw, I-"

"Don't let him touch you!" He hisses. "Please. Fuck." Harry closes his eyes. "I'm not sure I can control myself if I see him forcing you into something or-"

"Harry." She kisses his chest. "My love." She keeps spreading kisses on his chest, moving to his neck, and he relaxes a bit, "I can handle Asmodeus. Forget him. I don't want you giving him or my father motives to be questioned in any way." She's serious. "You promised you wouldn't do stupid things."

He rolls his eyes. "Wouldn't you beat the crap out of Chang if you saw her kissing me-"

She stops his words with a kiss, moving to lie on top of him, her tongue meeting his. He recognizes the kiss and her scent. She's angry. He holds her, his arms closing around her waist.

When she pulls back, she's breathing hard. "Don't even entertain this absurdity." Hermione says, "If she touches you I'll keep my word and throw a Portkey at her. She'll be in China in a blink."

He laughs out loud and she follows, lightening the mood.

"We're way too jealous." He states. "I mean, it feels worse, if that's even possible."

She sighs. "I guess it's impossible not to feel like this since we can't actually show the world our love."

They share a look, agreeing on this. If they could openly demonstrate what they feel, it would erase this crazy jealousy. But until then…

He kisses her again, slowly, softly. For a long while. It's so good and it makes his insides warm, a perfect sensation he only gets when he's with her.

This time they don't escalate things, the proximity and intimacy of actually enjoying slow kisses is exactly what they needed. And the sight of her red, swollen lips is one of his favorites. Groaning from sheer pleasure, he rubs his cheek on hers. And she kisses the side of his face.

It's home.

Hermione sighs, fully lying down on his chest, their legs together.

"I love listening to your heart." She says.

He opens a smile, inhaling deeply, feeling good.

Harry caresses her head, playing with a few loose wavy curls from her hair.

Would our children have curly hair?

The thought comes unbidden. And he makes a face, glad she can't see it. It won't do them any good dwelling on this. So, he steers them away, asking her a question:

"That book I found in your office with the paper about the Persecution," He has no idea why he didn't ask this sooner, "Who gave it to you? It had a dedicatory."

"Dumbledore." She chuckles. "He wrote 'with love', didn't he? I have no idea why. And no idea what he meant with those words. I mean, I figured it was because of my thirst for knowledge and stuff," She shrugs, "But who really knows what that man might be thinking?"

"At the Ball, he already knew who I was."

"Really?"

"He came up to me and clearly said it, like, your father was a Gryffindor and such."

"Well, that's… odd. But not that much if you think about it. I'm sure at least a dozen people recognized you that night."

He chuckles. "It was pretty stupid coming without disguising myself." He cocks his head, frowning. Why didn't I, though? He doesn't have an answer.

"Not your brightest moment, I'm afraid."

"At all."

He can smell her scent changing to something more… serious.

"Harry, did you kill Karkaroff?"

"No. It wasn't me." He hints enough on his tone. Hermione surely understands.

"My suspicions about the inner circle weren't that wrong, after all."

He keep his mouth shut. He can't play with the boundaries of the Vow he made. After Hermione hears from their mouths the whole truth, then they'll be able to talk about it.

She doesn't prod on this, but she says, "When we had dinner at the Manor, I thought my father knew about you. When he mentioned the files and such. I was ready to fight."

"Taking everything into consideration, don't you think it's a bit… strange that he didn't recognize me?" Harry gulps.

"It is. But I'm sure that if he knew who you are, you wouldn't be here right now."

He chews the insides of his cheek, pondering. Then he snorts. "You bounded me to the Manor." He says, shocked. "You already knew I was a Potter who wanted to kill your family and you bounded me to the Manor." He repeats, a bit baffled.

She snorts a chuckle. "I know. Crazy, right?" She kisses his chest, "But aren't you glad I did? Now we can walk inside freely. Search again inside his study-"

Hermione abruptly stops and he frowns. Her smell changes to something that can only be defined as excitement.

"What?" He asks, wondering if she remembered some vital information or-

But Hermione raises from the bed without saying a word. He immediately misses her. Harry watches while she goes to the closet, only wearing his t-shirt and some panties, the feathers of her phoenix exposed on her right leg. He crosses his arms, still on the bed.

Harry waits.

But she takes too damn long and he goes to the closet, calling her.

There's no one inside.

Harry opens his mouth, turning on his heels and searching her, entering the bathroom and going downstairs.

She's nowhere.

He goes back to the bedroom with an angry pout, already fetching his jeans-

He hears a giggle and stops mid motion. Narrowing his eyes he remembers he can smell her. Harry sniffs the air and takes a few steps forward. She's inside the room but he can't see her.

"Warmer." Her voice reaches him, provocative.

Chuckling and feeling an excitement mixed with horniness, he keeps sniffing the air, moving forward, closer to the armchair.

"Very warm." She purrs.

She's right there, in front of him. Invisible. And it's not a spell. Harry reaches the air and his hand encounters her shoulder. She's sitting there.

Immediately he recognizes the fabric he's touching and understands. With a shaky breath, he touches her neck and then he pushes the hood back.

Hermione is smiling. A mischievous smile. She raises her eyebrows. "Surprise."

Harry chuckles, a bit emotional. "You took it." He whispers, leaning to her.

"Of course I did." She says, her lips on his. Harry doesn't even know what to do or say. He just wants to hold her. "It's yours. And now you can have it."

"How?" He kisses her. "How can you be so perfect?" He's genuinely asking, serious. Of course she knew the Cloak was his father's and he doesn't think there's someone in this world that-

"I'm not, Harry." She whispers. "But maybe for you… I am." She smiles. "Just like you are for me."

He seizes her in his arms, hugging tightly. When he pulls back, he shakes his head. "What about your father? Won't he notice?"

"I replaced it with a counterfeit. And I think he hasn't used it yet, I mean… when he does I might get in trouble, but I'm not concerned about it for now." She shrugs.

"And I'm supposed to be the reckless one?" He raises an eyebrow, not believing the kind of risk she's putting herself in. "Maybe you should take it back-"

"No." She says sharply. "It's yours. It was your father's." She swallows hard, looking down. "My father took too much from you, but not this, he can't have this, not if I have a say on the matter." And she moves, taking off the Cloak, neatly handing it to him. "Here, love."

Harry keeps looking at the Cloak. Shaken and excited and so damn happy. His hands are trembling a bit when he takes it from hers, but Hermione is smiling and he can smell how satisfied and happy she is, so, he won't ruin the moment saying again that she should take it back.

It feels like unwrapping a Christmas present.

And he enjoys every second while he watches the Cloak unfold, while he puts it around his shoulders and sees himself disappearing. The fabric is dense and light at the same time, strange, magical and powerful.

Hermione still has a bright smile on her face, softness in her eyes. Love.

Harry inhales deeply. It's like he's closer to his father now and he has her to thanks for this.

She takes a step to him, his head still not under the hood, so she knows where he's standing.

"Look." She says, moving and taking the Cloak in her hands, flipping the hem to show him something on the inside- "Your initials." She whispers. "It's officially yours now."

He gulps. Indeed. The H.P. is right there, in golden letters. He can't help smiling at it.

But a sudden sadness coming from Hermione hits him.

"What's wrong?" He asks, one of his hands cupping her face.

She shakes her head, "Nothing." A clear sign that she doesn't want to talk about it. He sets his jaw. "I need to-" She points to the bathroom and heads inside, closing the door.

Harry sighs, lowering his head. He knows what's wrong. The Cloak is a family heirloom. Something that could hold his children's initials some day.

He walks to the bathroom door, placing his forehead against it.

"Love, come out. Let's talk about it." He says.

"I'm fine, Harry. There's nothing to talk about."

"Hermione-"

She opens the door abruptly. He can see that she was crying.

"Please." She says more fiercely. "Let it go. I can't talk about this again. Not now. I don't wanna ruin your moment and-" She chokes.

"Fine, okay." He says softly and tries opening a smile. "Thank you for the Cloak. It means a lot."

She nods, taking a deep breath. "I'm glad you liked it." But her voice falters.

Fuck. A bit uncertain of what to do, he embraces her again and she returns the gesture. He's not sure how long it takes, but he only let go of her when he's sure she's not so sad. Hermione kisses him in a silent thanks and they agree that they should eat something. He leaves the Cloak tucked inside the same drawer she's been hiding it, saying that it's hers too.

There's no need to fetch more food because there's still a lot from what Harry brought yesterday. And they settle comfortably to eat and talk, the evening getting darker and his werewolf traits sharper with the visible moon.

It's been a long silence between them and Harry breaks it with a statement:

"I've never been to my parents' house before that day with you." She blinks a few times, surprised. "It felt like too much and to be honest, it was perfect having you with me, I wouldn't have it any other way."

That finally gets a smile from her and he feels good inside, satisfied that he can make his mate feel better.

"Is that so? Well, it was a… risky move going there with you. I knew the truth and… I'm a Riddle." He holds her gaze, "But it was the first time I realized that me being a Riddle meant nothing to you. Not really." He frowns. And she explains, "When you gave me your mother's book, I- I knew you wouldn't do that if you didn't accept me for who I am, regardless my name or my father."

"True." He smiles at her. "I can't lie that in many moments I tried convincing myself that you were just a Riddle, especially when I was angry, but deep down," He shakes his head, "it never felt real. You're just Hermione. My Hermione."

She squeezes his hand on the table. "We need to talk about the magical signatures I felt. The twelve."

He nods, raising a hand, "Karkaroff, Lestrange, Crouch, Goyle, Greyback, Dolohov."

"Six."

"James, Lily."

"Eight."

"Me?" He raises an eyebrow in question.

That adorable wrinkle appears between her eyebrows. "Maybe. Could be. I'm not sure an one-year-old would have one."

"Can you test? Check now?"

She takes a sip on her water and turns to face him. "I can."

Hermione closes her eyes and raises her hands, taking a deep breath. He watches in awe, his enhanced hearing tuned on her heartbeat, his acute nose on how she smells of pure magic while she does this. It's different, amazing and… a bit frightening. Too much magic. It hits him how truly powerful she is. Raw.

It doesn't take long for him to feel like an invisible finger is poking his arms and legs and shoulders, face-

She opens her eyes. "It was you." She whispers. "One of them. I'm certain."

He inhales deeply. Harry considered this, but knowing for sure hits differently. He was practically a baby. There's no doubt that he was hidden when the Aurors got there, but even so he saw something, or else his Patronus wouldn't-

"Well, that's nine, then. There's three left." He says.

"One of them was my father." She looks down. "I recognized his signature later." They share an intense look. "Two left."

Harry chews the inside of his cheek. "You think you felt the signatures on the time that happened or on that night in general?"

"I can't be sure, probably from the night in general, from every magical person who stepped inside the house that night."

"Then, another one must be Matteo." He raises one finger. "One left."

"It was a signature I never felt." She shakes her head. "I have no idea."

Harry runs a hand through his hair. He can't think of anyone else. All the Aurors were there, along with Tom Riddle, his parents, himself and then Matteo.

Who could be this last person?

"Do you think Dolohov knows? Who else was there?" He asks.

"Maybe. For my father to have brought him back to the Ministry…" Hermione makes a face and takes another sip of water, he can smell how angry she is, "Dolohov knows something important and my father wants to keep him close, at eye sight. It'll be easier to control him and be sure that his secrets won't be revealed."

"But isn't your father making things easier for us?" She frowns, not following. "Hermione, think about it. Riddle knows we're investigating the Persecution, he knows we visited the Aurors. Dolohov was prepared for us when we visited his house and he almost killed you." He sighs. "Then he's just there, at the Ministry. He could have disappeared, we wouldn't be able to find him anywhere. But no, instead, he's working at the Ministry where we see him every day, where we can follow him after work…" He trails.

She's thinking hard. "Feels like a trap."

"Exactly."

"What do we do, then? If we don't go after Dolohov, we won't get answers, if we go, my father will be ready to arrest us, I have no doubt." She grunts. "He's playing with us." Hermione slams an open hand on the table and Harry flinches, surprised. She's furious now. "He knows how I feel about you, of course he does. And-" She closes her eyes, "After I set you free I had a little argument with him. Things got a bit intense and I may have thrown some magic at him…"

Harry opens his mouth. He knows it's not ideal, but he's aroused by it. He clears his throat. "What happened?"

"Just before we went down to the cells to talk with you, he called me and Chiara to his office. He had just talked with Matteo and he asked me," She points to herself, "what I thought about setting you free. He was again testing my loyalty, wanting to know if I would choose you in some capacity. He had already done it a few times. For example on that day inside Vernon Dursley's cell. He explicitly said how he didn't like how close we seemed." Harry fists a hand. "And on the day after I gave you the Veritaserum and he ended the binding obedience," She shakes her head, "He was pleased that he had raised me so well that I would hand over the head of my soulmate."

Harry is aware that he's snarling again. "We really can't show any affection in public." He states, the notion, a hard pill to swallow. "Riddle needs to think that we hate each other."

"That doesn't change the fact that we can't go after Dolohov. Not us." She leans back on her chair, fed up.

He doesn't need to ask if Riddle would arrest his own daughter. Of course he would.

"We'll figure it out." Harry says, one of his hands seeking her arm, going up and down on it. She's still so angry. "To be honest, at the moment I'm more concerned about the samples Pettigrew has. Fuck Dolohov. We'll get to him eventually."

Her voice is low when she talks next, "Sometimes I just wished we could run away. Leave all this bullshit behind and live in some paradisaic island."

He opens a side smile. "We'll get there. On our honeymoon I'll take you to all the islands in this damn world."

That finally makes her chuckle. Her eyes soften. And he pulls her to him. Hermione goes willingly and he makes her sit on his lap, facing the table, his mouth on her neck.

"I hate to see you sad." He whispers.

"I know." Hermione sighs. "I'm sorry about the whole thing. I-" She stops and he waits. "Not being able of having children always messed a lot with me and all my relationships. Deep down I never wanted to get married because… it would bring out this reality and there are times when I really can't handle it. But I learned how to, I got better at it." She turns her face to look at him. "But with you… it's very painful, love. It kills me knowing that we can't have a family."

He closes his eyes, kissing her cheek. "We can have a family, love. We could… adopt." He says the word very slowly, watching her reaction and paying attention to her smell. It's bittersweet.

"I would like that." She gives him a kiss. He can tell she's still very sad and he says nothing else, taking this moment just to hug her.

"I don't think I'll be able to be away from you after this weekend." He states, serious. "I wanna live with you. Have a home with you." He kisses her face. "Let's move to this house."

Hermione smiles. Slightly less sad. "We could. I mean, it lacks a lot-"

"We can solve it pretty fast. We'll only tell the ones who matter and that's it. I wanna end my day with you in my arms and I wanna wake with you in my arms."

She runs a hand on his hair, touching his forehead with hers. "It's a deal, then." She whispers, "Welcome home, love."

He inhales deeply, opening a huge smile and she follows, her sadness disappearing and some excitement taking over. Hermione begins to talk about a few ideas she has for the place and he listens with fascination, his love for her growing. He agrees on everything, wanting nothing more than to make her happy. They decide they're going to have one study for both and one training arena. He talks about the lake and she agrees that having a nice little boat might be a fun idea. Harry begins planning it in his mind and they lose track of time while they make plans.

Plans for their future.

(…)