Imposter by shaz124

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 07/12/2005
Last Updated: 07/12/2005
Status: Completed

[One-Shot, Post-Hogwarts] Harry comes home to find an exact replica of himself rummaging through
the icebox. What in Merlin's name is going on?!




1. Imposter
-----------



**AN: I was working on Oracles when I was bitten by a very unforgiving, unwavering plot-bunny.
Now that I've fed the bunny maybe it will go away.**

**As a side note, I am still working on Oracles when I can, but updates will only be available
on my Yahoo Group (link in profile) until I am far enough along that I can update here
regularly.**

**-----**

**Upstairs at 12 Grimmauld Place…**

“I'm going to slip into something a little more comfortable. Why don't you drink the
potion, then go down and grab the items on the list from the kitchen?”

-----

**…Down in the kitchen, 12 GP**

It had been a very odd day for Harry Potter—the end of an odd week really. Not since
Voldemort's downfall just prior to their Hogwarts graduation a few years ago had things seemed
so off kilter. And not just for him, his roommates had been enduring their own strings of
extraordinarily weird events. Ron had been lost in a daze for the past week or so. Hermione had
been fired from her job at Dervish and Banges in Hogsmeade for showing customers how to fix their
broken things instead of showing them new items from the shelves or seeing if they would like to
have D&B fix it for them—all for a nominal fee, of course. And now the oddest of all had
happened to Harry during today's auror cadet training. Moody was hit by a strange spell by one
of the weaker cadets during a mock battle. That by alone wasn't all *that* unusual. What
was unusual was that Moody let his guard down entirely as he casually approached the fallen young
cadet to finish him off. Preposterous! With Moody now resting comfortably at St. Mungo's, the
cadets were excused for the afternoon.

He was still pondering the week's events when landed in the floo at home. He stepped out of
the grate to see an exact replica of himself rummaging through the icebox.

*“Incarcerus! Petrificus totalis!”*

The imposter immediately found himself pinned against the wall with a wand at his throat.
Harry's voice came out with a growl, “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

Although the imposter had Harry's body, he definitely didn't have the same confidence in
his voice, “Name's S-s-shaun. I-I work for an escort service on the far end of Diagon Alley,
th-th-the lady upstairs contracted my services. S-s-she wanted the p-p-polyjuice service. S-s-she
said she would provide the sample.”

Harry stood there, momentarily dumbfounded, as his mind processed everything. *`Hermione paid
an escort to come and impersonate* **him***? But why?'* He gasped as one unlikely
idea lumbered through his head. *`No, surely not,'* he thought as he looked toward the
stairway, *`Only one way to find out, I guess.'*

Harry focused his attention back to his prisoner, “What were you doing down here?”

The man's voice steadied slightly, “The lady told me to drink the potion and then collect
the things on the table and go back up to her room.” Harry glanced over at the table and saw
whipped cream, strawberries, cherries, grapes, cinnamon and pumpkin spices, chocolate and some ice.
His eyebrows furrowed together.

“I want you to take a wizard's oath that you will NOT reveal the identity of your client,
her intentions, or that you were ever here.”

“I don't even know where `here' is, she tandem apparated us, and we always hold our
clients' in strict confidence,” the man interjected.

“Fine, I still want that oath.”

The man gave said oath and used the floo to make his escape. The man had unnerving smile on his
face as he left knowing that he enough remaining hair samples to make several other paying
customers *very* happy.

Harry collected the tray and walked toward the stairs to find his answers. As he ascended the
stairs, he thought of the bushy-haired girl he fell in love with during second year. Her absence
from the trio while she had been petrified had changed him. Their adventures alone together during
third year in saving Sirius had only cemented his love for her. He had finally decided that he was
going to tell her that he loved her during fourth year until he saw that Ron was clearly smitten
with her. He couldn't bring himself to break his best mate's heart. The happenings at the
end of their fifth year reaffirmed to him that he had done the right thing in ignoring those
feelings. Their journey to the ministry had left her near death and drove home the point that there
was a clear and present danger now, and that Hermione would become a primary target if the two of
them got involved. He never wanted to see her hurt like that again.

He shook his head to clear such unpleasant thoughts. Voldemort was gone now but sightings of
several small groups of death eaters dotted the news now and again. Besides, she was dating and
happy now. Memories flashed in his eyes as he remembered how stunningly beautiful she had looked
only a few months ago at a ball held in their honor at the ministry. Her laughter was music to his
ears as she danced with her boyfriend. He stopped when he saw that he had reached her bedroom door.
*`Yes, she's happy now,'* he thought wistfully, *`…and that'll be
enough.'*

The door in front of him opened quickly and Hermione stopped abruptly as she him in there. Her
surprised look melted quickly into a devilish, sultry smile. She was dressed in nothing but a
white, lacy, two-piece set of undergarments and a completely sheer dressing gown that concealed
nothing. Her voice matched her smile and the outfit, “I'm glad you didn't get lost. I paid
for the full hour, and I intend to make good use of it.” All thoughts of Hermione the Bookworm,
Hermione the Friend, Beautiful Hermione, Smart and Clever Hermione, and Smiling, Happy Hermione
flew out the window. The gorgeous and dead sexy woman standing in front of him replaced all
previous thoughts of his Hermione. His jaw dropped, and it and his legs forgot how to move of their
own accord.

Hermione giggled at his reaction and whispered a quick `thank you' in his ear as she took
the tray from him and set it on a small table on the other side of the room.

“What for?” he finally stammered out as she approached him again.

“You obviously like what you see, right?” Harry somehow managed to nod meekly in response.
“Well, I'm no expert, but your reaction to the outfit was quite complimentary.” She moved in
close to him and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “Enough talk, I want to make love to my
Harry now.”

Harry was just figuring out how object to her statement when she pulled his head down and
planted a soft, sensual kiss on his lips. His brain promptly shut down, and his body was rendered
paralyzed again. His body went from ice to fire as she began to suck gently on his lower lip. He
reacted on instinct and pulled her close as he began ravaging her lips fiercely. She responded in
kind and pulled him across the room near her bed. She furiously worked to open the buttons of his
shirt as he pushed his tongue through her lips and desperately explored the new territory. She was
finally able to unbutton his shirt and pushed it back over his shoulders. She traced her
fingernails lightly over the skin of arms, leaving a trail of flames as she went, and Harry reacted
with a hiss. Harry finally left his arms relax enough to let the shirt fall to the floor. His
hands, now free from their bindings, took refuge on both sides of her jaw as he sought to deepen
the kiss.

Her breathing became ragged as she fumbled frantically with the fastenings of his trousers. The
jiggling caused by her ruffling the front of his pants nearly drove him mad as he hissed through
his teeth once again until his pants dropped to a pool around his ankles.

*He needed more.*

His mouth moved to the nape of her neck and suckled there lightly as his hands made their way
down to her breasts. He curled his fingers and ran them over the satiny material from the underside
of her breasts toward the nipples. She shuddered under his touch. “Oh Harry,” she moaned as the
heat of her breath drafted over his ear. He cupped both breasts in hands and ran the tips of his
thumbs over her excited if still cloth-covered nipples then again scraped his fingernails across
the bottoms of her breasts. Hermione was now panting and having a difficult time catching her
breath. For Harry though, this was still not enough.

*More. He needed more. He* **had** *to have more.*

Harry's arms encircled her in an effort to remove the silky cloth barrier between them.
Harry and Hermione's mouths met again in a flurry of passionate kisses as he clumsily attempted
to unclasp her bra. He tried for what seemed like an eternity to unfasten it. He grabbed it in his
fist and growled in frustration. This frustration released a burst of pure magic that caused the
offending undergarment to vanish. The sudden feel of skin-to-skin contact was heavenly to both of
them if he judged her response correctly.

He wrapped her up in his arms and wound his hands wildly through her hair as she dropped her
head to leave trails of small nips along his neck and shoulder. He turned his head to hers and
caught the only thing he could, her earlobe, and tenderly scraped his teeth over it. He continued
lavishing it with attention by alternately flicking it with the tip of his tongue and sucking it
affectionately. She responded by embracing him tightly. Her nails' trail marks felt like those
of a hot brazier on the flesh of his back.

*More! More! MORE!*

He slunk his hands below her waist and kneaded the flesh of her rump through the material of her
knickers. She caught her breath and rose on her toes slightly and lifted a leg around his waist. He
immediately took advantage of the opportunity and dropped his hands a little lower, lifted her
small body off the floor and laid her softly on the bed.

Whatever cloth still remained between them was quickly removed and dropped to the floor. With
little preamble or foreplay, their two bodies melded themselves to each other. There was nothing
slow, sensual, or deliberate about it. It was fast, hard, and intense. These two people were
furiously looking to fill a void, a need, within them. Their pace quickened as both sensed that
they were close to finding that fulfillment, that contentment.

She tightened herself around him as she began to lose herself in the waves of her orgasm. Wave
over wave crashed into her as the missing piece that she had so desperately been seeking fell into
place. Harry, too, felt the pressure of his own impending orgasm building and pounded himself
furiously into her—letting go the years of want, need, and frustration of not being able to be with
her. He held on as long as he could until his body overrode his mind, and he spilled himself
completely into her. He pumped with reckless abandon, starting to become afraid that he was never
going to stop.

After what felt like several minutes but in actuality was only several seconds, his orgasm
eventually waned. The both of them were now completely exhausted. It took every ounce of
Harry's remaining strength to withdraw from her, lay on the bed beside her and cover them both.
Everything else would have to wait until later.

**-----**

Sometime near dawn, Hermione started to stir from her sleep. She breathed out a contented sigh
as she turned on her side and saw the red, orange and yellow hues that announced the sunrise. She
smiled as she remembered the feeling of her earlier `activities.'

*`I'm no expert on the subject, but that was by far the best sex I've ever had, bar
none.'*

She felt the bed shift beneath her as her partner from the previous day turned over.

She closed her eyes to savor the memory of her Harry making love to her. She stayed on her side;
refusing to look at the person she'd had relations with. Seeing the other man's face now
would ruin it altogether. Though after the performance she'd been privy to, she was grateful
enough to allow him a bit of rest.

The bed shifted again as he rolled. The man's right arm came to rest on her waist and his
hand lightly cupped her. She took a moment to look down at the hand and saw that the man wore a
ring. *The ring looked familiar somehow…*

She searched her memory as she tried to remember where she had seen that ring. Her breath caught
as she remembered. *`Oh dear Merlin, that's the Potter family ring! Nobody can wear it but
Harry—the REAL Harry!'* She tried to break free, but the arm tensed and held her firmly in
place.

“Good morning,” came an all to familiar voice, “Sleep well?”

She rolled over to face the man, and sure enough, the vibrant and alive green eyes of the real
Harry Potter were gazing at her. She thought of what she had done yesterday in a desperate attempt
to right her world after losing her job and her boyfriend in succession. She had paid an escort to
have sex with her in her best friend's image—in an endeavor that she thought would finally put
to rest the dreams she knew would never come true. The dreams that one day her best friend would
come to love her as much as she loved him.

Her eyes watered as the guilt of how she had betrayed her best friend so horribly washed over
her. She felt dirty. She felt cheap. She felt worthless.

She felt Harry tilt her chin up to look at her and her eyes focused again. He petted her head
tenderly, “Hermione, what's wrong? Whatever it is, we'll talk about it. We'll work it
out, okay?” Harry pulled her close and enveloped her in his embrace. This was too much for the
young woman, as her composure finally faulted. Her body wracked as she sobbed into his chest. She
kept mumbling over and over again that she was sorry. He continued to stroke the top of her head
and spoke softly to comfort her.

When she had calmed down a bit, she finally looked up at him and asked the uncomfortable
question, “Harry? Did we, …you know?”

Harry smiled, “Oh yes, we did. I feel pretty comfortable in saying that it was absolutely
fabulous, even if it was my first time out.”

Hermione gasped in horror, “I took your virginity! Oh God, Harry, I'm so sorry! God, I just
feel worse if that's possible.”

He wrapped her up again. “Hey, none of that now,” he said gently. “I ended up saving myself for
someone that I truly loved; someone I trusted. I couldn't ask for more.”

“But how can you say that! I basically raped you!” she yelled.

“Hermione, if I was *that* worried about it, I could've stopped you at any time.
I'm not a weakling, you know. Besides, I've been hoping for *ages* that this might
happen someday.”

Hermione looked up at him pleading, hoping, “Harry, do you mean that? I mean, do you really,
really mean that? Please don't toy with me, Harry, because I don't think my heart could
take it.”

“On my honour and on my magic, I'm telling the truth, Hermione. I've been in love with
you since our second year. I didn't know what it was at that time, but I have since fifth
year.” A brief, bluish glow connected the two of them.

Once she saw the glow, she knew it was true without a doubt and lunged at him with relief and
joy written all over face. She peppered his face with kisses between reciting a plethora of “I love
you's.”

They cuddled and talked for several hours about their feelings, their pasts and slowly worked
into talking about the future, but a portion of that had already been decided for them.

-----

**Platform 9-3/4 - 12 years later…**

Harry and Hermione Potter watched as their firstborn, Shaun Sirius Potter, hugged them, said
goodbye to his brother and sisters and the veritable sea of Weasleys as he boarded the Hogwarts
Express with Bill and Fleur's school-age daughters and Remus and Tonks' adopted son.

Harry and Hermione hugged their remaining children on the platform and sent them off with Molly
and Arthur, who had agreed to watch them for the night. They said that having all the grandkids
over kept them from feeling left out when the older ones leave on the Express every year.

“Well, it appears we have the day to ourselves, Mrs. Potter. Care to recreate the day Shaun
became a part of our lives?” Harry asked lasciviously. “I can be your man-whore again,” he added
hopefully.

She slapped him hard on the arm, “Harry! You know I still have somewhat mixed emotions about
that! I still can't see how you convinced me to name him after the poor man you nearly
killed.”

“Must've been the pain potions,” he kidded.

“Harry, be serious!”

“I can't, Hermione. Sirius just left on the train.” Harry chortled at his own joke while
Hermione gave him a tight-lipped glare. They settled back into an amicable silence quickly.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“You never did tell me why you waited so long before allowing me to be your first.”

“No, I suppose I didn't. Well, part of it was because of Voldemort. I was afraid to get
involved with anyone. Aside from the whole `love potion' fiasco in sixth year, I avoided
relationships. After Voldemort was gone, I was deluged with all sorts of solicitous offers. I
didn't want to open up the floodgates to a bunch of claims about women carrying Harry
Potter's lovechild—not that it didn't happen anyway. This way, all it took was to cast one
spell to instantly prove my innocence,” Harry sighed remembering the pressure that went with those
times. “At the end of it all, I saved myself for the woman that I loved and wanted to marry.
I've never regretted it since.”

Hermione took his arm and snuggled up against him. “I love you, Harry.”

“I love you too,” he declared. “Now let's get going, I've made reservations at that
Italian place you like so much down in Brighton.” With that, they couple disappeared with a soft
pop.

*-- Fin.*

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