Note: So, finally this website decided to go back to normal after having a crisis.

I consider this chapter the beginning of the second part of the story.

Hope you enjoy it.

PART TWO

"Why are you here, D'Angelo? In London?"

He wets his lips. "Do I really need to be tied up for this?"

She clicks her tongue. Hermione is standing in front of him, her expression cold. It reminds him the way she questioned Lucinda Summers at her house. He gulps. Harry needs to find a way out of this, she can't know the truth.

"Yeah, you have to be tied up for this." He makes a face. "Why are you here? Answer me."

"Hermione, is not what you're thinking."

"You have no idea what I'm thinking."

A silence follows. She keeps looking at him, emotionless.

"Look-"

"Don't even try, D'Angelo. I could be here all night. I could be here for days. The only way you're leaving is giving me answers."

Harry sighs, annoyed. "You want answers? Well, I already told you why I'm here!" He says through gritted teeth. "I was engaged, okay? I didn't say it before because it hurts too much. She cheated on me. I wanted to leave and got the offer here, so I came. Fuck, is that so hard to understand?"

Hermione snorts. "Poor little Harry had his heart broken and decided leaving his country to move to London where he would work as a subordinated Auror. Not to mention our laws. You think I forgot how we met, D'Angelo?" He looks away from her, pouting angrily. "I was expecting you, of course. I'm Head Auror, you really thought I wouldn't know about a transference? I saw you the moment you stepped inside the Atrium. And I have to say you intrigued me right from the start." He closes his eyes. "The way you stopped in front of that statue…" She clicks her tongue. "Your grandfather, who we all know you have the closest relationship with, hates Blood Supremacy. He stands against everything our Ministry represents and it's impossible for me to believe that you don't think alike." She takes a step closer to his chair. "Look at me." He sets his jaw, turning his head to her. "I know you specifically went after informations about the Potters in my office. I wanna know why. I wanna know if you have anything to do with these attacks. I wanna know if you're a threat to my father, D'Angelo."

Harry scoffs. "You're waiting for a confession of a heinous crime, but I'm sorry to disappoint you, I have nothing to say." She crosses her arms and he sees fury in her eyes.

"You searched my office, D'Angelo. I know you did." Harry says nothing. "Do you want me to formally arrest you? Put you under interrogation? Maybe I'll ask Asmo to do it-"

"Yeah, sure, ask your amazing boyfriend." He's so bitter… so jealous.

"And I know the first thing he's going to ask. 'Did you kill Lucius Malfoy, D'Angelo?' Yes, that's exactly what he's going to ask."

"I have nothing to hide."

"Really? Even under Veritaserum?"

He bites his bottom lip in anger. "You can't use-"

"Oh, D'Angelo, we're not in Rome." She narrows her eyes. "Here things work differently. Now, what do you prefer? Giving me answers in this particular conversation or being submitted to Asmo's interrogation? Maybe I can even call my father to witness."

For the first time, since he met Hermione, he can see the Riddle in her. He snorts.

"You really are a Riddle, aren't you?"

"Am I supposed to feel offended? Because I know how much your grandfather hates our family." She shrugs. "I have to say you surprised me a lot. And that's exactly why I was an idiot to trust you."

"My grandfather has nothing to do with me."

"And my father has nothing to do with me. But you don't seem to believe that, so, I'm not buying your words either. Tell me what I wanna know."

Harry sighs. He doesn't doubt she'll interrogate him under the Veritaserum. "Okay, fine. I… I admit that I searched your office that day when you left with Pettigrew." She looks furious now.

"Why?"

"I wanted information on the Potters' Persecution."

"Why?"

"Because it's a huge deal, Hermione." He relaxes on the chair, not seeing the point in fighting over this, a bit exhausted to be honest. She seems to notice his posture because she blinks and takes a step back, frowning. He doesn't even have to lie. Mostly. "Everyone talks about what happened, but no one really knows what happened."

"Of course we do-"

"Yeah? Then why are you investigating it also?"

She widens her eyes slightly. "I'm not under interrogation here, you are."

He chuckles humorlessly. "Oh, no, Miss Riddle. That's unfair." He says mockingly.

She ignores him. "Does your grandfather want this information?"

"My grandfather has nothing to do with this."

"Which I find very hard to believe. Especially now that he's running for Minister-"

"What?" Harry perks up, startled.

She tilts her head. "You don't know?"

"I-" Harry grunts. Of course his grandfather would do something like this. Of course. Making a face of distaste, he leans back on the chair, totally defeated. Hermione has countless reasons to be putting him in this situation. He would be doing the same if their roles were reversed. He shakes his head, a bit emotional, not knowing how to react. "I had no idea." He whispers.

He looks down to his lap, some tears are threatening to fall from his eyes. But he holds them back, his chin trembling a little.

"Harry." She's crouched in front of him. "I might regret this, but..." Hermione sighs and with a movement of her wrist she releases his arms and legs. He thanks her silently. "What's going on?" Her voice is soft now. "Talk to me."

He leans forward with his elbows on both legs. He takes both her hands and she lets him.

"When… when I left Rome, I- my relationship with my grandfather was… shaken." He shrugs. "Still is."

Hermione nods. "Well, he's running for Minister and… I'm almost sure he'll win. And I'm afraid he might declare war to us."

Harry closes his eyes.

He has no idea how to explain his relationship with his grandfather to Hermione. It surprises him that he wants to, though. He wants to open up to her because that's something that he's been ignoring since he left the Villa. Since he hugged his mother goodbye.

Since Matteo D'Angelo refused to hug him.

He takes a deep breath and against his better judgment squeezes her hands. "I was engaged." He says, looking at her pointedly. It's true. He didn't lie about this. "I loved her. Was totally in love." He gulps. Hermione is petrified, barely moving a muscle while she listens. "But I caught her cheating. It broke me completely. Profoundly. She was not the person I thought she was."

Hermione wets her lips, tilting her head and standing up. Taking his hands, she guides him to the couch and they sit facing each other, one leg tucked under their bodies. Their hands still together.

Harry continues, "But we grew up together. Her family was close to mine. She was kind of a big deal and our union was certain. My grandfather didn't believe me when I told him the truth. He never accepted that I called the wedding off." He makes a face. That and many other things regarding his revenge and how to proceed when he finally infiltrated the Ministry. It's true he wants to end Riddle's rule. But his grandfather wants to destroy the British Community completely. Hermione is not wrong. Matteo wants to seize London to himself. And Harry never agreed to this. When he realized he was just a pawn they had a huge fight which ended with both not exchanging a word for months until Harry left. "We had a huge fight. And it's been months since we last talked… Us living in the same town became unbearable. Imagine under the same roof. I had to leave." When Harry turned twenty-two Matteo said he had to go to London, begin his revenge. But he stalled. It felt too much too early. However, when he realized the situation with his grandfather was broken, he made it happen. "When they offered me the position here, I took it immediately." He snorts. "Chiara tried to stop me. My ex." Hermione purses her lips. "And here I am, Hermione."

She exhales. "Harry," She locks her eyes on his. "Against my better judgment I believe you. Even with all the red flags right in front of me, I have no idea why, but I trust you. And I want you to be honest with me because I'm being honest with you. What's the deal with the Potters' Persecution?"

He clicks his tongue. "I- I confess it stirs something in me. It's odd. And since the Fair I think we should be investigating this. I went to the Archives-"

"I know."

He opens and closes his mouth. He's a bit surprised she still doesn't know he's, in fact, Harry Potter. "They're using James and Lily Potter as symbols. Don't you think it's pretty important to investigate what happened to them? I tried, but any information regarding the case is classified."

She finally pulls her hands back, pressing them on her face, grunting and shaking her head. Harry observes her.

He can't believe what's happening.

"You could have asked me, Harry. I have no problem in sharing the information with you."

He blinks. Many times. Lost. It's like she took away his north. "You don't?" His voice is barely there.

"Why not? I…" She looks up, pondering, "It's true. I'm investigating what happened to the Potters."

His heart beats so fast his vision gets a bit blurry. "Why?"

"Because," She stops. He can see she's having a hard time saying this. Snorting, she says, "I must be crazy. Harry, no one knows about this. No one." He nods. "I love my family. With all my heart. And don't get me wrong, I would do anything to protect them." He tries not reacting, but he presses his lips together, "But my father… he's a flawed man, Harry. I'm not blind. And it never settled right with me what happened with the Potters. How the Persecution started and the fact that everything around this is a secret." She shakes her head. "It drives me crazy with curiosity."

He cocks his head. "What if you find something you don't like?"

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"I- do you want to…" He looks away from her, to his hands, fidgeting on his lap. "Investigate this together? Just us?"

"Harry, did you kill Lucius?"

He widens his eyes at the question, surprised at the way she changed subjects. "No." He lies. Again. She narrows her eyes.

"Do you have any intention in taking my father down? Or are you just investigating the Potters out of curiosity, like me?"

"Hermione, I have nothing to do with my grandfather's plans. I'm here because I want to, because I couldn't stand seeing Chiara everyday. And yes, I'm curious. And I think we can find answers to our investigation while researching the Persecution." It doesn't go unnoticed to him that she believes the truth of what happened with his parents might destroy her father's rule.

"And you promise me you have nothing to do with these attacks?"

"I promise." He's relieved he doesn't have to lie about this.

She nods, clearly believing him. "Okay. Then let's do it, Harry. Let's investigate the Potters."

He opens a side smile, his heart swelling inside his chest. "You know, it wasn't quite nice the way you tied me up." He makes a face.

She laughs. "You'll get over it, D'Angelo." Hermione raises from the couch. "Do you want to eat something?" She asks, stretching. Her movement rises up her t-shirt and his eyes are draw to her exposed belly. He tries averting his eyes fast, but she's already making a face at him. Provoking. "We could eat something while we go over what I already found out." Her voice is softer now and he gulps. She knows exactly what she does to his body. Hermione wets her lips. "What do you think? Unless you need to go."

He clears his throat and raises from the couch. "No, I have nowhere I need to be. I'm all yours." His voice is low. He can play this game too.

She exhales at his words. And he takes a step to her. Her chest moving up and down fast. Harry sees her eyes falling to his lips, her mouth opening slightly. But then she blinks and shakes her head, saying, "Okay" And heading to the kitchen.

He runs a hand through his hair and chuckles. Fetching Crookshanks again, he tries containing his excitement, but he discovers it's impossible.

After eating some fish and chips and sharing a chocolate frog - which gave them the card of Minister Tom Riddle - they finally settle on her couch to talk about the Potters. Harry makes himself comfortable leaning his back on one end of the couch, his legs propped up, his shoes laying on the rug. Hermione mimics his position and he's glad they're keeping some distance. Except for their feet. Which are almost touching at the middle of the couch.

Crookshanks is sleeping between them.

"So," She begins. Hermione is holding a file. A file that Harry sees as pure gold. But she puts it down on the nearest table, apparently she knows everything by heart. "My curiosity about the Potters started when I was twelve and first heard of them. I know it was pretty late, but as I said, there's a huge secrecy around what happened and my parents never even mentioned their names inside our house. Dumbledore was the one who told me about them." Harry raises an eyebrow. "It was after a class and I was kinda of upset because of a low grade, so I went to the Headmaster's office to talk a little-"

"You went to the Headmaster because of a grade?" He opens a side smile, teasing her. Hermione throws a pillow at his face.

"Don't mock me." She points a finger at him. "I took education very seriously." He snorts, a bit fascinated. He took his education seriously too, but a low grade never upset him. "Regardless, I was there with Dumbledore and out of nowhere he began to talk about one of his best students, James Potter." Harry looks down. "I listened carefully and I have to say, Harry, I was immediately bewitched by his doings. Dumbledore said he was the bravest of the Gryffindors." She puts a finger on her lips. "I was a Gryffindor." He nods. "The more Dumbledore talked, the more I wanted to meet this amazing student, maybe even learn from him. But when I asked where he was, why such an amazing wizard wasn't teaching at Hogwarts, Albus told me everything." She makes a face. "Maybe he was a bit… tactless, I mean, I was twelve and he began talking about Blood Supremacy and Lily Evans and how they were hunted down and such… it was a bit of a shock and I didn't question him further at the time. But that night I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about James Potter, about his wife, about what happened to them."

"Understandable." He says softly. His mind imagining a twelve-year-old Hermione on her bed with her eyes wide open thinking about his parents.

"I had a terrible nightmare that night." She says in a low voice. "It was awful." She closes her eyes, hugging herself with one arm. "But then I was obsessed. I wanted to know everything about them. My first question was: how they even met? Because Lily Evans was a Muggleborn. And Muggleborns didn't go to Hogwarts. So, at school was not a possibility."

Harry clears his throat. He's ashamed to admit that he has no idea how his parents met. His grandfather didn't know and the memories never hinted anything on that matter. "And did you? Find out? At the paper I found in your office-"

"That note is old, Harry. Very old. From my Hogwarts' years. To be honest I'd forgotten it was there inside the book. And I wasn't stupid enough to write down everything I discovered."

"But then how-"

"Every thirty days I perform a spell I created to identify possible breaches inside my office. I did one today." She purses her lips. "I could see the traces of every place you touched and when I took the book from the shelf I knew why you were interested in it."

Harry shakes his head, feeling like an idiot, an amateur. She's too smart. A sudden coldness takes over him and a certainty hits him hard: She'll discover who he really is. Sooner or later. And then what?

"And just for the record," She says, "I'm still angry at you for going through my stuff, I mean, it pissed me off more than anything else. I could punch you for it."

He widens his eyes and not even knowing why, he says, "So do it. Let's leave this behind us." Harry stands from the couch and extends a hand to her. She hesitates. "Come on."

Smiling, she stands too, and even before he registers it, she punches his stomach. She's way stronger than he estimated and Harry tumbles forward, a hand on his middle. She laughs. And just right after her hands are on his face.

"Sorry, sorry." She kisses his cheek and he grunts, the pain fading away. "There, there." She's mocking him while she rubs one hand over his stomach and he chuckles, their faces close.

"Feeling better?" He asks.

"Actually, loads better, thanks."

He shakes his head and one of her hands go to his hair. Suddenly their chuckles die down, the air heavy around them. She caresses his nape and he brings her closer by the waist. He can feel her breath on his face and Harry closes his eyes.

He was the one who said they should stop.

Her fingers move into his locks and he leans a bit forward, finding her lips. The contact is soft, gentle.

And brief.

Hermione moves away from him, looking down and making a face. She settles back on the couch and they go back to their previous positions.

As if nothing had happened, she continues, "It happens that, when I was fourteen I already had a whole plan to find out everything about the Potters, but I kept it to myself because… I made the mistake of asking my parents about them in a letter when I was twelve." She scrunches her face. "It was madness. My father was furious. He went to Hogwarts and questioned my professors, Dumbledore, he wanted to know what we were being taught and why I was talking about a traitor as if he had been an amazing wizard. Well, Dumbledore apologized and the discussion ended there. After that I never spoke of the Potters again, but they were on my mind all the time." Harry's mouth is hanging open. "At fifteen, Ron and I dated." She laughs wholeheartedly.

Harry smiles. "Why is that funny?"

"You can't think of a worst couple, honestly." She's still laughing. "We would fight all the time over the silliest things. We were insanely jealous and thankfully at one point we realized we were miserable together. The day we broke up we drank a whole bottle of firewhiskey to celebrate our rupture." Harry laughs with her. "But…" She looks down and Harry sees that blush coming up her neck. It's been a while since he last saw it and it makes his insides flutter. He adores that blush. "We were each other's firsts and that brought us extremely closer. I felt comfortable enough to ask him about the Potters, because at that point I've had zero success in my own researches. And to my surprise, Ron knew a lot."

Harry raises his eyebrows. "He did?"

"Yeah, at the note you found there are names under the first line and my first question, right? I discovered these were the closest families to James Potter. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were his best friends." Harry presses his lips together, nodding. "Lucius Malfoy was close to him until they reached seventeen or so and Molly and Arthur were also dear friends. That's why Ron knew a bunch of things. It took him a while to tell me everything because his parents warned him to never speak of the Potters, and indeed, after he told me what he knew, we never spoke of them again."

"Don't you think it's a bit too much? It's like a taboo."

"I think it's bizarre, Harry." She sighs. "But Ron told me how they met." His heart beats faster at that. "Remus Lupin had an uncle totally against Blood Supremacy and when this idea started really taking over Wizarding England, he left, moved to France." She waves a hand. "But then, when they were fifteen, this uncle invited Remus and his friends to spend summer with him. Remus, Sirius, James, Peter, Lucius and Arthur. Keep in mind that at the time they were young and Blood Supremacy was still on the rise, the most important restriction was at Hogwarts, where only Purebloods were allowed, so it wasn't a big deal spending some time in a Muggle resort. There, James met Lily. She was Remus' friend from his trips with his uncle." Harry inevitably chews the insides of his cheeks remembering the way Remus looked at him at the Ball. "From what Ron told me, they had a special connection from the first time they met. It's a bit unclear what happened after, but from what Arthur said, they discovered she had magic. Lucius and Peter immediately refused to be in her presence. But Sirius, James and Arthur liked her, so they became friends. James and Lily started exchanging letters after that summer. And as they say, the rest is history. They became an official couple when he finished Hogwarts. But only his best friends knew. It was a huge secret." Harry is drinking her words, amazed. "At this time, the laws were changing and my father was a strong voice inside the Ministry, he was the only counselor of the decrepit Minister Smith. James knew his relationship with Lily would never be accepted. They tried hiding, but things blew up when someone betrayed them."

"Who?" He asks more eagerly than he intends to.

"I'm not sure, but word is that… Peter Pettigrew did." She gives him a pointed look. He wonders if Hermione clearly dislikes Peter because of this.

"Asmodeus said it was him." Harry remembers the way he talked at that meeting room the first time they met. "He called his father a hero."

"I know. But Asmo likes to show off," She raises a finger, "yet, I think it might be true. Peter never denied."

"You never asked Asmodeus directly?"

She shakes her head. "His family is extremely traditional. They hate the Potters. Asmodeus likes to talk about this, but only to cement his opinion on how they deserved what happened to them."

Harry wets his lips. "And what do you think, Hermione? Do you think they deserved it?"

They share an intense gaze. "I…" She sighs. "No. I don't think they did." He lets out a breath, his chest swelling with warm feelings for her. He moves his foot to touch hers and she doesn't move back. "Regardless, James' friends started to go against the relationship, they thought it was stupid of him to sacrifice himself for her. Their friendship ended and James left with Lily. That's when the Persecution started."

"But why? I mean, he left with her, why follow them and-"

"I wish I had an answer, Harry. It bothers me because it doesn't make much sense. But my guess…" She trails, a bit uncomfortable, "Well, at this point, my father was already Minister and my guess is that he wanted to make an example out of them. Seek them out and show people the tone of his rule." She sighs. "It doesn't give me pleasure to say this, but it's what I think."

He nods, thinking. "And those names you wrote, are those the Aurors?"

"Yes. It was hard to find out their names. But well, living under the same roof as the Minister has its advantages." She winks at him and he stops himself from kissing her right there. "I did with his study the same you did with my office." She makes a face at him. "And I found a file with the Auror's names. But as I imagine you already know, they vanished. I tried digging into this but, well, I'm extremely careful when it comes to the Potters, no one can know."

"Of course, I understand." He runs a hand through his hair. "And the location? Who's Snape?"

She presses her lips together. "I wanted to know exactly where they found Lily and James, and Snape told me. But I'm still looking for a chance to investigate the house, even after all these years… magic leaves a trail, it's undeniable." Harry nods. "Snape is… a contact. I never met him, not personally, but he knew the Potters. I don't understand his connection with it all, but Dumbledore gave me his name and I just reached out and respected his wish of staying anonymous."

"And you did all of this when you were still at Hogwarts?" He tries hiding his fascination, but by the way she smiles he knows he fails. Harry smiles with her.

"Yeah, well, I think I wrote Snape's name at the paper on my seventh year and tucked it inside the book and kinda of forgot about it. I mean, I was obsessed, but a lot of things were happening in my life also. I had to train to become an Auror and then the whole process of becoming Head… I revisited this investigation recently, to be honest. And after the Fair… I felt I needed to go back to this. They always used Lily Evans and the Potters as symbols, but never like this, never this… violently. There's something there."

"I agree. It feels like we're missing what's right in front of us."

She nods. "Exactly."

Hermione yawns then and Harry follows her motion. Crookshanks is still in the middle on the couch, and their feet are still touching. He moves his foot to caress hers. She opens a smile, shaking her head.

"You said we shouldn't, Harry."

"I did, didn't I?" He sighs, his foot still on hers. "I'm such an idiot sometimes."

And without warning he moves, going forward and pressing his body on top of hers. Crookshanks jumps from the couch with an angry hiss and they laugh at the cat.

But then she's pulling him to her, their lips touching.

Harry marvels at their kiss. It's slow. There's no rush, no desperation, nowhere to be or nothing else to do. There's only them. His heart trashes inside his chest. All his senses on high alert while he embraces her tightly. Hermione dominates the kiss, doing whatever she wants with him and he's more than glad to oblige, more than happy to stay there on her couch making out with her like teenagers - again.

For a moment he wonders how he kept his distance for a week. Because even now, with her in his arms, with their lips clashing together and their tongues provoking each other's, he misses her. He misses her taste, her smell, her softness.

He moans when she rearranges herself under him, opening her legs and giving him the proper space to position himself between them. And then he's kissing her cheek, her jaw, her throat. His hips bucking, meeting hers. She pulls his hair and mumbles something he doesn't quite catch, but it's close to 'kiss you'.

And their mouths meet again, this time more eagerly. A bit desperate.

"I want you." He says when they separate for a brief moment.

"I'm right here." She answers and he groans.

Harry feels like a lunatic while he kisses her neck. His hands find the end of her t-shirt and he pulls it up and off, Hermione helping him. He squeezes her waist, his mouth finding hers again, their kisses inebriating. Her legs ride up both his sides, bringing him even closer, enhancing the contact of their bodies.

He moves back a bit and they open their eyes.

A small smile is playing on her lips. He smiles too, one of his thumbs caressing her cheek. She has her hands on his hair and neck and for minutes they just… look at each other.

And something grows inside Harry. A warmth. A feeling of happiness, of wanting and belonging. The more he looks at her, the more grounded he feels. Hermione touches their noses and Harry sighs, rubbing his cheek against hers in a caress.

Then he kisses her one, two, three times.

Gentle pecks.

Her smile widens.

He doesn't want to think about what it all means.

So, he goes back to kissing her collarbone, finally reaching her bra. He wets his lips at the sight of the black lacy. She raises an eyebrow at his mischievous smile.

"Want to see a magic trick?" He asks playfully. She laughs out loud, nodding. And he closes his eyes. "Wait, I need to concentrate."

"Oh, come on." She mocks him, slapping his shoulder.

And before Harry can perform the little magic he was thinking about, Hermione beats him to it and all their clothes are gone in a blink.

He opens his mouth, outraged. "Hey! It was my-"

She cuts him with a kiss. "Shut up." She says.

"So impatient." He says, a bit out of breath now that they're touching everywhere.

It's the first time they're totally naked.

And he can't deny it gives the moment a whole new meaning. By the way she looks at him, Hermione is thinking the same thing.

She kisses his neck, her hips bucking up, her hot entrance meeting his cock. They both groan together at the contact. Harry closes his eyes while she kisses and bites him gently, her nails digging into his back, marking him. Hermione then moves her lips back to his mouth, kissing him with all the calmness in the world.

And it feels so good and right it hurts. It physically hurts him.

He pulls back. Gulping and making a face.

"What's wrong?" She asks. Her hands going up and down his back.

Everything is wrong.

He bites his lower lip, moving a bit away from her. "Harry." She holds him in place.

He knows he initiated it. He knows they want to.

But… it feels different now.

And they can't.

Harry can feel they're about to cross another line. One line that brings feelings with it. And how is he supposed to deal with this? How is he going to endure watching her with Pettigrew all the time? How is he going to keep lying to Sally? And how the hell is he going to go through with his revenge if…

"Hey," She moves his face, forcing him to look at her, "we're having fun, Harry. There's nothing wrong with it."

He snorts. "You're about to be engaged."

"That's my problem." She says harshly. "My relationship."

"Exactly." He says through gritted teeth. "You're in a relationship and-"

"Unless you want to be in a relationship with me, this conversation doesn't make sense."

He watches her face for hints of what she might be feeling. There are none. He sighs. "I feel bad because of Sally." It's the only excuse he can think of.

Now Hermione's expression changes. To a dangerous one. She releases him. "If you want to go, go. But I'm warning you, this won't happen anymore, then. It's over. But if you stay, I refuse to have this conversation again."

He immediately misses her embrace. He opens and closes his mouth, completely torn. Apparently, for Hermione it doesn't mean as much as it might mean to him. The choice is his and if he leaves now, he knows she'll keep her word. It won't happen again. However, if he stays… he'll be the one paying the price. He'll suffer for something that-

She's watching him.

Waiting.

He can feel her warmth and when he looks into her eyes, it becomes clear: he prefers suffering and having her this way than not having her at all.

Harry grunts and kisses her, desperate. She corresponds the kiss just as eagerly and his hands travel her body. He squeezes her breast, his mouth leaving hers and going down from her neck until he reaches her hard nipples, kissing and sucking. She moans. Finally, his fingers reach her entrance and he groans because of her wetness.

It's overwhelming how much they want this.

Massaging her clit and moving two fingers in and out of her, he keeps kissing her breasts, biting gently, then going back to her mouth, their tongues meeting. Her hands roam all over his body. His abs, his ass, his back, her legs going up and down on his sides.

But then she groans, biting his neck, moving her mouth to his ear. "Fuck me." She says hoarsely to him and he seeks her mouth with his.

Not breaking their kiss, he moves, positioning himself properly, bringing her hips a bit up with both hands under her lower back.

And then he's inside her.

They stop breathing for a beat.

This time he looks at her. Their eyes locked.

He kisses her gently. She closes her walls around his length and he moves. Slowly. He wants it to last. As if they can be here inside this moment forever. She rocks her hips, driving him insane and he intensifies his rhythm, hitting a sweet spot and making her moan loudly.

They keep kissing, lost in the feel of them. Every thrust is a new kind of pleasure.

Perfect.

"You're perfect." He says, not thinking.

She kisses him aggressively, biting on his lower lip. And his hips slam into hers harder. Harry is seeing stars from sheer pleasure.

It's everything. Her smell, her lips, her body, their perfect fit.

Then he slows down. Both breathing hard. She brings him closer to her by the neck. His hand seeks her clit, and Harry mercilessly stimulates her, thrusting slowly.

Hermione opens her mouth in a silent scream and this time he drinks in every detail of her orgasm. The way her eyes widen slightly then close, her mouth opening, her breathing coming in waves, all her muscles tensing and then relaxing.

Her features. Her perfect features.

He knows he won't forget.

A bit numb in his arms, she kisses him gently. He's still moving slowly, wanting to be with her for as long as possible. He holds her tightly with both arms around her waist, burying his face into the crook of her neck, wanting to be consumed by her. She runs her hands through his hair, now kissing his ear, pressing her chest to his.

"Harry." It's a plea.

He moves and kisses her again, this time thrusting harder, almost madly. They both moan, biting each other's lips. Both in a frenzy while he slams himself to the hilt inside her.

Over and over again.

"Fuck." He says, overwhelmed.

And when he comes, he says her name.

And she follows him, coming again with his name on her lips.

Harry exhales heavily, a bit dizzy.

Then he laughs. He lost his virginity when he was fourteen. And it's been eleven years of sex, but nothing ever came close to this. To this feeling of plenitude. As if if everything else dissolved into dust, he wouldn't give a damn.

Only her arms matter. Only her mouth. Only her touch.

Only her.

Sighing, he changes positions on the couch, laying on his back and bringing her to his chest. Hermione goes gladly, kissing his chest where she lays her head. Her arms circle his middle and he embraces her.

"Well," Hermione breaks the silence when they're finally back from the high of their encounter. She moves her hand in the air, "I lack a word."

He laughs.

"Yeah, I know."

He kisses the top of her head and she stiffens a bit. He immediately understands this might be a little off limits. Harry clears his throat, looking at the clock on the wall.

It's already 2am.

She's extricating herself from him. And he sets his jaw.

"I-" He begins, trying to hide how her standing up and fetching her clothes makes him uncomfortable. "I guess I should go."

She looks at him. "Yeah, I mean-"

"Unless you want me to stay." She opens and closes her mouth. "Since Pettigrew is away I thought you might want someone with you, because of the nightmares." He shrugs, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. Truth is… he desperately wants to stay.

She tilts her head, biting her lower lip. "I have a potion." It's her answer.

Harry clicks his tongue and nods. "Sure, yeah. I'll just-" He stops talking, feeling all kinds of awkward while he fetches his clothes on the floor.

But then she extends his t-shirt to him, Harry takes it and she says, "You know what? These potions always knock me out. If… if it isn't a problem for you to stay, I- I would like that very much."

He inhales sharply. Then he smiles. "Yes, of course. I'll stay."

She opens a bright smile, then she clears her throat. "Come."

And Harry follows her to the bedroom.

It's simple but cozy.

Her bed is huge, there's an armchair that surely is for reading at the corner, just besides a shelf filled with books from ceiling to floor. Harry notices some pictures on the wall, of her with her parents and one with Pettigrew. He averts his eyes fast. Hermione looks away when he looks at her and she motions to a door. The bathroom. Harry sits on the edge of the bed while she vanishes inside, closing the door. There's another door and he realizes it's a walk in closet.

He sighs, closing his eyes and wondering what the fuck he's doing inside her room, only in his boxers, ready to sleep with her. Harry snorts to himself. It's impossible for this to work out between them. He knows that he'll come out of this hurt. If not for the fact that he wants to end her family, but for the fact that she's marrying another man-

"Hey." He opens his eyes to meet hers. She's standing right in front of him in a nightgown. "If you wanna use the bathroom it's all yours." She winks and he nods.

Harry closes the door behind him and leans against it.

What the hell am I going to do? He has no idea. Splashing some water on his face, he takes a deep breath and decides one thing… he stayed when she gave him an ultimatum, so, he won't suffer because of this decision.

Reluctantly he admits to himself that he wants to be with her and that's it. They just agreed on investigating the Persecution together, so, for the foreseeable future, Harry's going nowhere. He'll stay with her for as long as he can, and then… well, then he'll see.

A bit more relaxed after deciding this, he exits the bathroom to find her under the covers, the room immersed in darkness, the only light coming from the big window. He walks slowly, but she's wide awake, waiting for him.

He can feel the butterflies on his stomach when he lies down next to her.

And they share a look.

Both move together, gravitating towards each other. Hermione turns, giving her back to him and Harry embraces her from behind, his arms and legs caging her into his frame, molding them together. Hermione sighs, relaxed, a hand on his hair. He kisses her cheek and neck and she rubs her legs on his.

Then he puts his left hand on her stomach and Hermione puts hers atop of his.

The tingle.

He feels her stiffing in his arms.

"Do you feel it?" She whispers.

"I do." He answers sincerely, his mouth close to her ear, his teeth seeking her lobe, provoking her.

"What is it?" She asks in a low voice, their hands still clasped together.

"I have no idea." He says, kissing her pulse point right after.

Hermione says nothing more, but he knows she's thinking hard about this.

He changes the subject. "This night surely ended very differently from what I imagined when you tied me up to that chair."

She snorts and he chuckles with her. "I have to agree with you."

Hermione turns her head slightly and they share another slow, hot and breathtaking kiss.

Then she smiles at him and sighs. He holds her even closer as if wanting to transform them into one. He returns his attention to her neck, kissing her, feeling the goosebumps all over her skin from his touch.

"Stop, Harry, we need to sleep. We have to work tomorrow."

He grunts, but stops, resigning himself to just hold her. "Speaking of work. What did you discover at the gun store?"

"Tomorrow, okay?" She yawns.

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Harry."

"'Night, Hermione."