Learning to Live by coriander

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 04/12/2003
Last Updated: 04/12/2003
Status: Completed

Everyone is celebrating Harry's defeat of the Dark Lord. Everyone, that is, but Harry.
Hermione goes to comfort him and in turn confesses her love for him. One shot. PWP




1. Learning to Live
-------------------

Harry Potter couldn’t take it anymore. Everyone was celebrating his defeat of the Dark Lord, but
Harry wanted nothing to do with it. He wandered upstairs, away from the festivities taking place in
the common room of 12 Grimmauld Place. He thought that he had escaped unseen, but a pair of brown
eyes followed each of his steps upstairs.

Hermione watched her best friend trudge up the stairs away from the celebrating. Harry had
seemed distant all night. Where everyone else was dancing, drinking, laughing… celebrating, Harry
just sat and watched. His face never broke into a smile. His eyes stayed unfocused. Hermione had
seen him like that many times, and it scared her. He should have been happy. He did it. He won.
What was wrong with him?

Putting her drink down and offering a few pleasantries along the way, Hermione followed Harry.
He needed someone. He needed a friend, and she was just the person to help him. She softly padded
along the dark hallway toward the light that was leaking from under Harry’s door. She knocked
lightly before entering.

Harry was sitting out on the balcony staring off into the stars. Hermione’s heart ached for him.
He had been through so much, and now at twenty-years-old he had fought the battle of his life, and
won. She crossed the room and ventured out to where Harry was sitting. If he heard her approach, he
didn’t acknowledge it. She placed her hand on his shoulder gently. “Harry?”

“Hi, Mia.”

“Are you all right?” she asked him, still standing behind him.

Harry sighed heavily and Hermione dreaded his response. She was waiting for him to tell her to
leave him alone, but he just sat there quietly staring off into space. Hermione didn’t want to ruin
the calm air that seemed to surround them; so instead of talking, she started to rub Harry’s
shoulders, trying to ease some of his tension.

After a few moments, Harry broke the comfortable silence, “Why am I not happy?” Hermione’s hands
stopped their ministrations at his words. “I should be happy or at least relieved that he’s gone,
shouldn’t I? Why am I not?”

Hermione resumed the shoulder massage as she pondered Harry’s question. “Harry, you have been
under such pressure for so long, you are bound to feel lost once that pressure is gone.”

“But that’s just it. I don’t feel anything,” he said frustrated. “I don’t feel happy, relieved,
sad, angry… I don’t feel anything, Hermione.”

Hermione softly ran her fingers through Harry’s unruly hair in a comforting manner. “Harry,
you’re free. It’s a shock. For once in your life, you don’t have to be anything for anyone. You
don’t have to be the Savior of the Wizarding World, you already are. You don’t have to live your
life in fear. You are free, Harry. You are free to live your own life, with out the fear and anger
and hatred looming over you.”

Harry hung his head and Hermione wondered if it was due to frustration or her shoulder rub. “I
don’t know how to live,” Harry whispered so softly that she almost didn’t hear him.

Hermione leaned down and wrapped her arms around him and hugged him from behind. “Harry, you
just do whatever you want. You can laugh when you want. You can have fun again. You can cry if you
want. You can do anything.”

“I don’t know what to do. I have lived to fight Voldemort for so long. I don’t know how to do
anything else.” Harry stood up, loosening Hermione’s embrace and walked to the railing of the
balcony. The stars were shining brightly down on them; a shooting star streamed across the sky and
Harry shook his head slightly.

“I used to wish that I were free from all of it. I wanted to live a normal life. I wanted to
grow up and fall in love. I wanted to never have to fear anything again. Now that I have the chance
to do all those things, I’m lost.”

Hermione came up and stood next to him, neither one looking at the other. “Harry, tell me what
you want to do. I will help you.”

“I don’t know what it’s like to live a normal life. I don’t know what it’s like to be loved or
to love at all. I have been robbed of so much in my life. What do I…”

Hermione broke him off when she grabbed his hand. “Harry, you are loved. Ron and I love you, why
else would we have stood beside you through it all. The Weasleys love you. Dumbledore loves you.
You are loved and you know how to love. You loved Ron and I enough to become our friend. You loved
the Weasleys enough to save Ginny from the Chamber. You loved me enough to make sure I was safe
underwater in the TriWizard Tournament. You loved Sirius enough to go running after him when you
thought he was in danger. You know what love is, Harry.”

Harry shook his head and looked down dejectedly. “I want to know what it’s like to be in love.
To have someone look at me the way Luna looks at Ron; the way you look at Seamus.” Hermione snorted
at his last comment.

“Seamus and I haven’t been together in almost six months, Harry.”

“See, I have been so focused on fighting Voldemort, that I don’t even know what’s going on with
my best friends. But that’s beside the point. You know what I mean. I want to be loved, but not for
being Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived or the Savior of the Wizarding World. I want someone to love
me. Harry. I’m just afraid that I won’t know how to love them in return. I’ve never been in love. I
don’t know what it feels like.”

Hermione smiled up at him and then looked back over the garden. “Being in love can be felt so
many different ways. Like when your heart skips a beat when you hear that person’s voice. When you
search a crowded room just to see their face. When you smile just thinking of them. When you would
do anything to make them happy. When your skin tingles at the slightest touch of their hand. When
you close your eyes at night and all you see is their face behind your eyelids. Harry, you’ll know
when you’re in love. Trust me.”

Harry tried to keep his eyes focused on anything but Hermione. She had just described every
thing he ever felt when she was around him. At that moment he knew that he was in love with her.
She had always been there for him. She was his constant. She was his anchor. But in his mind he
thought that she deserved so much more. She deserved someone who knew how to love her; who knew
what it was like to love.

“Hermione, have you ever been in love? I know that you and Seamus dated, but were you in love
with him?”

Hermione turned toward him slowly and looked deep into his green eyes. “I liked Seamus a lot,
but I wasn’t in love with him. I fell in love a long time ago and tried to deny it. I tried to let
him go, but I can’t.” She took Harry’s hand in hers. “My skin tingles at his touch.” She inhaled
deeply. “His scent makes me want to bury my face in his jumper.” Gently placing his hand over her
heart. “My heart races when I’m near him.” She gazed longingly into his eyes and let go of his hand
so she could raise hers to cup his cheek. “I could get lost in his eyes for an eternity.” Her thumb
softly glided over the soft skin of his eyelid, down his cheek, along his jaw, coming to linger
over his soft lips. She brushed her thumb across the seam of his mouth hovering there long enough
for Harry to lightly kiss the pad of her thumb. She looked up at Harry to see his eyes boring into
hers with a fiery passion she had never seen in him before. Her eyes drifted back down to his lips.
They were so soft and full. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to taste him. “His lips make me want
to kiss him fiercely, pouring out every feeling I have for him. I want to show him what he means to
me. I want to teach him what love is like.” Her eyes drifted back to see that his eyes were closed.
Small tears had fallen from them and were lazily trailing down his cheeks. Hermione raised herself
up on her toes and gently kissed each one of his tears away before capturing his lips with her
own.

Harry couldn’t believe what was happening. Hermione, his best friend, who had just all but
confessed her love for him, was kissing him. And it was wonderful. His body burned from the inside
out, spreading like a wildfire from where their lips were connected. When he felt her tongue slide
over his lower lip, he opened and let her in. He let her tongue tangle with his own. He had never
felt anything more exquisite in his life and he never wanted it to end.

Harry couldn’t believe that only a short while ago, he had been numb. He didn’t feel anything,
not sure if he wanted to feel anything. But this, this, whatever it was between he and Hermione
made him feel. He felt happy, desired, loved. She loves him. He mentally kicked himself for not
saying anything to her throughout her pseudo-confession. He wanted her to know, that he loved her
too. He wanted to tell her the same as she had just told him. He wanted to show her that he could
feel, that he was no longer numb and that she was the reason behind it.

His hands gently roamed underneath her robes, along her back and under the hem of her t-shirt.
Her skin was so soft. Harry absently wondered if he had ever felt anything so soft in his life. He
seriously doubted it.

Her kisses were intoxicating and he didn’t want his lips to part from hers. He was in heaven and
didn’t want to chance losing her if he pulled away. He inhaled sharply when he felt her lips pull
away from his. Keeping his eyes closed, he blindly searched for her mouth, instead planting kisses
on her forehead, her cheek and what he assumed was an ear.

His breath hitched when he felt her hot mouth kissing his neck, trailing across his collarbone.
“Let me love you, Harry,” she whispered next to his ear. He could do nothing more than pull her
closer to him. She felt so good pressed against his body. It was perfect; as if they were two
puzzle pieces finally fit together. He pulled her back inside the room; the balcony was not his
idea of a comfortable place to… to what? Did she want a good old-fashioned snogging? Or did she
want him to make love to her? His body tensed in fear. Could he do it? Would he know how? Did it
come naturally? Would she like it? What if she didn’t? What seemed like hundreds of questions
flitted through his mind.

Hermione sensed the change in his demeanor and cupped his face in her hands. She made him look
her in the eyes. “Harry, I want to show you what you mean to me. I love you. Anything beyond those
three words doesn’t matter. I love you, that’s it. Nothing will ever change that.”

He smiled at her and kissed her lips lightly. “Hermione, everything that you described about
being in love, has been happening to me. I just never noticed because I was too busy with Voldemort
to see it. I wanted to protect you, so I shut my eyes to everything. I love you. I have since… I
don’t know when. But I know that I want to protect you. I want to love you. I am willing to let you
teach me how. Please, teach me how to love you.”

Hermione smiled as she guided Harry back toward the bed. With a quick flick of her wand, the
candles throughout the room glowed and the door locked. She pulled Harry’s hands up to the top
clasp of her robes. His fingers were clumsy as he fumbled to remove her heavy robes. After what
seemed like forever, Hermione stood before him in a muggle t-shirt and jeans. She was beautiful.
The white t-shirt clung to her curves, accentuating her breasts. The low-ride jeans she wore were
almost low enough to expose the plains of her flat stomach.

Hermione worked deftly at Harry’s robes and his button-up shirt. In no time at all she was
presented with the glorious vision of Harry dressed in only trousers. His lean muscles rippled
underneath her gaze. She found that her hands had minds of their own as they softly drifted over
the toned flesh of his chest and abdomen.

Neither one of them spoke as they divested the other of their clothes. The silence showed a type
of reverence that spoke of worship, adoration and love. For many moments they stared at one
another, afraid to move, afraid to touch. Hermione was the first to advance as she wrapped her arms
around Harry’s neck. She kissed him soundly, passionately on the lips as she reveled in the feel of
her naked breasts pressed against his bare chest. The feeling was beyond compare. Before they knew
it they were a mass of tangled limbs caressing, touching, kissing, tasting, feeling, learning.

Harry quickly memorized the sounds he elicited from Hermione as he touched each part of her
body. She moaned softly as his lips found a sensitive spot just underneath her ear. She squeaked
when he lightly pinched a nipple. Her voice became low and raspy when his fingers brushed over the
dark curls covering her most intimate part. He wanted to touch her, to make her shake under his
ministrations. He had read many of his old roommates dirty magazines to know what he was supposed
to do. The question plaguing him was actually how to do it.

He lay back on the bed and pulled Hermione to lie next to him. Their kisses were becoming deeper
and more heated. Harry wondered how long he would be able to last. His arousal strained hard
against her thigh and he shyly pulled away. His cock seemed to become harder when a small hand
grasped it and pulled him back to her. Hands roamed over their heated skin in unpracticed, but
natural patterns.

Harry’s hand found the curls covering her sex and gently ran his finger between her folds. He
growled as he felt the wetness there. “You’re so wet, ‘Mia.” She smiled at his nickname for her.
She placed her hand over his and guided his fingers inside her. She hummed contentedly as he filled
her. Her hand stayed atop his and guided his movements. She showed him when to go fast and when to
go slow. She taught him what she liked and what felt better than others. After a few moments, Harry
took over on his own. He learned fast and the by way that Hermione was fisting her hands in the
sheets he obviously was doing it right. His thumb rubbed over the little nub between her folds. She
screamed his name into the night as her body convulsed around his fingers.

She lay there still, trying to catch her breath. Harry was scared. Did he hurt her? Did he do
something wrong? He gently swept a tendril of hair out of her face and she opened her eyes to him.
The look of fear and worry on Harry’s face made her heart swell. Hermione’s hand reached up and
rubbed his cheek lightly, trying to calm him down.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked tentatively.

Hermione smiled, “No, Harry. You didn’t hurt me. But you did just gave me a most pleasurable
orgasm.”

“That was – oh.” Realization finally hit Harry and the surprised look on his face, made Hermione
giggle lightly. He was the most powerful wizard of the time. He had killed the Dark Lord. He had
seen death more times than any man should. But at the same time he was so innocent. “I’m sorry.
I’ve never…”

Hermione pressed her lips to his. “Shhh. Harry, I know. I’ve only done this a few times, and
this has already been more pleasurable than any of those.” Harry’s face betrayed the conflicting
emotions and confusion of trying to figure out whom she had slept with. “Later, Harry. I’ll tell
you later. Right now, it’s just you and me.”

She pressed herself against his side and let her hand drift down to grasp his impressive
erection. His skin was velvety soft. It amazed her how something could be so soft yet immensely
hard at the same time. She watched him as his eyes rolled back into his head at the feel of her
hand stroking his manhood. Harry’s eyes were closed, but he could feel the bed shift when Hermione
moved. He couldn’t open his eyes; the sensations she was creating were too intense to try to open
them. But, a second later his eyes flew open at the feel of her hot mouth wrapped around his cock.
He had seen pictures of men and women engaged in such activities, and often wondered how it would
feel. Wouldn’t the teeth get in the way? Oh no, teeth could be a very good thing, if the person
knew what they were doing, and Hermione definitely knew what she was doing. Harry couldn’t hold
back his moans and cries as Hermione’s mouth did wondrous things to his body. He knew he wouldn’t
last long and wanted to make this special for her. He wanted to make love to her. He wanted to feel
her wrapped around him writhing in ecstasy.

Harry pulled her up, letting her settle on top of him as he kissed her with more vigor than he
thought he possessed at that moment. “Mia, love. I want to make love to you. If you were to
continue what you were doing that wouldn’t happen. I want to be inside you when I c… come.” Harry
struggled over the last word. He wanted to say ‘climax’ or ‘release’ or ‘finish.’ But those all
sounded either too technical or too prudish. ‘Come’ sounded so dirty to him. He had never
experienced anything like this and he was embarrassed at his own naiveté.

Hermione straddled his hips and settled herself so that Harry’s erection was pressed along her
folds. If she moved just right, a jolt of ecstasy burst through her from her clitoris straight to
her fingers and toes. She looked deeply into his eyes, silently answering the question there.

Her hand reached between them, stroking him as she guided him into her. Hermione sank down on
top of him. Filled. Complete. As she rocked, she guided his hands to her breasts, pressing his
hands into the mounds of flesh. He teased her nipples with pinches and strokes. When Hermione
couldn’t take anymore, she moved his hands down her body so that they rested on her hips. He caught
on quickly and helped guide her rhythm with his hands grasping her hips in a heightened need to
release. Faster and faster they rocked, lost in a sea of passion, listening to the sounds of their
voices calling one another.

Hermione opened her eyes to see a pair of emerald green ones staring back at her. The look on
his face was unmistakable ecstasy. Harry looked as if he wanted to scream, laugh and cry all at the
same time. She hastened her movements, bringing herself closer to the brink. She watched the many
expressions pass over Harry’s face as she let her orgasm flow over them. Harry soon followed in his
own exquisite pleasure. He felt like his head was going to explode. The immense tension in his body
finally gave way to indescribable rapture. He lay there for moment, trying to regain any sense of
control he might have had before his legs had gone numb.

He could feel her heartbeat against his chest as he pulled her down to him. His lips brushed the
top of her head as more tears fell from his eyes. She raised her head to look at him, brushing his
tears away with a thumb. “Don’t cry,” she whispered before kissing him chastely.

“Hermione, I love you.” Harry had to take a deep breath to try to reign in his thoughts and
emotions. He was holding his best friend, the girl he loved, in his arms. Everything was right with
the world. His emotions had gotten the best of him. After bottling them up for so long, the torrent
of all of the suppressed feelings overcame him at the sight of her smile and the sound her voice
earlier saying those three little words.

Harry couldn’t help but smile. He was happy, truly and honestly happy, for the first time in his
life. Hermione was his salvation from all the darkness he had been forced to live in. She saved him
from the darkness that he laid upon himself. She was his light in the fog. She was his angel, sent
to guide him and protect him. He had spent so much of their years of friendship, trying to protect
her, but in reality she was the one who protected him from himself.

The couple lay in Harry’s bed, entangled in the sheets, not trying to dislodge themselves. They
could still hear the remnants of the celebration downstairs and wondered if they had been missed.
It didn’t matter, really. Nothing mattered other than the two of them. Hermione rolled over to her
side, propping herself up on one elbow watching him. It took Harry a moment to realize what she was
doing and it startled him, almost causing him to fall off of the bed.

Their laughter filled the room, and it was music to their ears. It had been so long since either
of them had laughed, they had wondered if they even remembered how to. Hermione’s hand brushed a
stray lock of hair off of Harry’s forehead. As she brushed her fingers over his fading scar, she
sighed. This mark was the symbol that expressed just how much this man had gone through to save the
wizarding world. He had sacrificed so much. It was his turn to be paid back.

“Harry, let me love you. Let me show you what you deserve to experience; what you deserve to
know. I don’t give my heart freely, but I am giving it to you, even though it has belonged to you
for many years. Please be gentle. It is strong, but can be broken very easily.”

Harry kissed her lightly. “Mia, I’m not sure how to do this. I don’t know how to love. I will be
everything for you. I need you. I love you. I know that much. But I need you to teach me what to do
now.”

Hermione smiled. He was so sweet, so innocent. “Now, we sleep,” she said as she buried her head
into the crook of his arm. Wrapped up in each other’s arms, they didn’t know when they had let
sleep overcome them, but they were awakened later by a tapping on the door.

“Harry?” Ron. “Harry, mate, you all right?” Before Harry could answer, Ron had opened the door.
“You know if you wanted the door locked, you might have wanted to use a different ward. All it took
was a quick *Aloham*… “ Ron stopped abruptly as his eyes feel upon his best friends wrapped up
in each others arms and legs. “Hermione?”

“Hi, Ron,” she said sheepishly.

“Bloody hell!”

Harry couldn’t help but notice the way that Ron was staring at Hermione’s exposed hip and he
tried to pull the sheet to cover her. The sheet succeeded in covering her, but he had not realized
that by pulling the sheet he exposed himself in all his glory to his best friend.

“Um… Harry?” Ron said as he turned around quickly. Harry looked down and saw what was making Ron
so uncomfortable.

“Sorry. Did you need something, Ron?”

Ron tentatively turned his head to verify that Harry was covered. Once he saw that his best
friend’s bits were hidden, he turned around to face him. “Mum wanted me to find you. We hadn’t seen
you in a couple of hours. She was worried. But now I can see that you are fine. I think I’d better
leave you two to it then,” Ron stammered in a rush. The quicker he got out the better. The last
thing he needed to see was his two best friends… um… *together*.

“Ron?” Hermione called lightly. He turned his head slightly in acknowledgement. “Are you upset
by this?”

Ron smiled brightly and shook his head. “Hermione, I have been waiting for this day for a long
time. You two deserve to be together. I know you are meant to be together. All I can say is, it’s
about damned time.” With that he turned and left the couple staring dumbfounded at the door.

Hermione curled up next to Harry and rested her head on his chest. “Well, that was unexpected,”
he said, running his fingers lightly through her hair.

“Harry, I think Ron figured it out after fifth year. You treated me different after we were in
the Department of Mysteries. He had mentioned something to me then that he thought you had
something for me. I was so caught up in him at that time, that I never really thought about it. But
looking back I think I knew it deep down. Ron and I never had this kind of passion.”

“He was one of them, wasn’t he?” he asked softly, trying not to sound condescending. She nodded
and looked up into his green eyes. He smiled. “I’m not upset, Mia. If you and Ron had not slept
together, you wouldn’t have learned what you taught me tonight. I don’t care who you’ve been with.
As long as you are with me, I’m happy. I should probably thank them,” he teased lightly as he
kissed the top of her head.

“Seamus,” she said softly. “It was only Ron and Seamus.”

Harry smiled and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Remind me in the morning to thank
them. I owe them a lot.”

She slapped his arm in mock disgust before lying her head back down on his chest. His heartbeat
echoed against her ear. It was peaceful, just lying there with him. It was right. It was perfect.
She had come up here to help him. She knew that he was hurting but she never realized how much she
had been hurting for him.

“I love you,” she said, lightly tracing the lines of his toned abdomen.

“I love you too, Mia. Just think two hours ago, I didn’t feel anything. I was alone. I was lost.
I didn’t know what to do or where to go. But you opened my eyes with just a few words. I was never
alone. I had you. I wasn’t lost as long as you were beside me. I have lived the life of the Boy Who
Lived. Now I want to live Harry’s life. I want to be normal. I want to live my life the way I want;
I want to laugh at my children; and I want to love you every step of the way.” Hermione looked back
up at him through teary eyes. He wanted her. “Mia, you’ve made me feel again. Please teach me to
live. Laugh with me. Love with me.”

Hermione had prayed and wished for this for so long that she was afraid that it was all a dream
and she would wake up and he be gone. She leaned up and kissed him. He was real and he wanted her
just as bad as she wanted him. Voldemort was gone. Harry was free. He deserved to be loved, who
else if not by his best friend. She would teach him. She would show him everything that he meant to
her. She would be his everything. Harry Potter had been her hero and her hope for so long. It was
time she returned the favor.

“I will, Harry. Always.”



