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Somewhere in the forest of Dean
It’s been two weeks since Ron left. Hermione stopped crying after the first day, a righteous indignation filling the empty space his abandonment had left behind. Harry had finally stopped feeling numb, his anger subsiding after removing the locket, shame and sadness taking over rapidly. A small flicker of guilt had settled in his gut at his fear of abandonment being proven right. But he wasn’t abandoned. Not really.
Hermione sits on the sofa, her face buried in a book as it often is these days and a slight frown on her brow. Harry grabs their mugs; hers stained from frequent use and his chipped slightly from the last time they had to pack up quickly. They had waited a week longer than intended with the hopes of Ron returning but had to move on after accepting that he was not coming back. After the tea steeps, Harry wanders over to Hermione’s side, placing the mug down gently on the table.
Harry clears his throat gently when she doesn’t look up. Hermione still jumps. She slams her book shut, pink dusting her cheeks as she places the book down next to her.
Harry raises a brow.
“What ya reading?”
“Nothing.” Hermione replies quickly, her voice an octave too high.
Harry chuckles. “Hermione. I know about the smut. It’s fine.”
Hermione’s blush deepens.
“It’s not smut!” Harry raises a brow. “It’s not! It’s about how to strengthen wards but, well… I got to a part that gets quite graphic.” Hermione’s blush spreads to her ears.
“Sounds juicy.” Harry replies, picking up her legs so he can sit before resting them across his lap.
“Yes, quite.” Hermione answers, determined to look anywhere but at him.
“Want to share with the class Miss Granger?” Harry asks, nudging her foot lightly with his elbow before reaching for his mug. Hermione closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
“It suggests using a virgins first bleed mixed with the sperm of the man she hopes to protect.” Hermione rushes out.
Harry drops his mug.
“Shit.”
Hermione rolls her eyes and waves her hand, the mug flying back to the table as the pool of tea evaporates.
“I told you it was juicy.” Hermione smirks though the blush is still burning across her face.
“I will never use the word juicy again.” Harry laughs out awkwardly. “Please don’t stop reading on my account, I need to make another cup.”
Hermione draws her legs back, allowing Harry to stand and grab his mug before heading back into the kitchen. Harry shakes his head as the kettle boils in an attempt to gather his wits. ‘She wasn’t offering’, he tells himself. ‘She wasn’t asking. I should have minded my own business.’
After successfully re-making his cup, Harry heads back to the sofa, settling back down before Hermione stretches her legs back over his lap. Head thrown back and eyes closed, Harry would have thought Hermione were asleep were it not for her worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.
Harry’s tea safely on the table, Hermione risks cracking one eye open and taking a peek at Harry, who sits lost in thought whilst ideally running his fingers along the material of her leggings.
Hermione clears her throat. “So, what do you think?”
Harry jolts from his train of thought. “What do I think about what?”
Hermione cringes. ‘This was a stupid idea,’ she thinks, ‘of course he doesn’t want to’.
“What do I think about what Hermione?” Harry asks, serious and straight faced as he stares at her intently.
“Forget it.” Hermione hurries out. “It was a daft idea really; I just thought that now it’s just the two of us a little extra protection couldn’t hurt. Forget I mentioned it. Please.”
Making sure to keep her legs firmly in place, Harry turns to face her, his fingers now trailing the side of her leg, as Harry drags his eyes over her face. Feeling exposed, Hermione focuses on his hands, watching as his fingers move rhythmically up and down, soft and unhurried.
Hermione dares to look up and finds Harry staring at her with a look of contemplation.
“It’s not daft. It makes sense that we should take all the precautions we can get, especially now.” Harry continues cautiously, “But I need to know exactly what you’re asking of me, and I need to know that this is something you want to do, that you aren’t just doing it for me.”
Hermione can feel her blush coming back in full force, spreading down her neck and underneath her jumper.
“We would do it for us, not just for you; I’d be just as protected, if not more so. It isn’t on a whim, I thought about it before Bill and Fleur’s wedding which is why I brought the book. I also have been worried about… what would happen to me if we are caught and have decided I want it to be with someone I trust, at least the first time.”
Harry stares, near open-mouthed at her. “The first time. Right. Of course. And does the book say anything about it being my first time?” Harry now turning the same shade as Hermione.
Hermione shakes her head. “Nope.” She stares at the ground.
Harry clears his throat. “Well, I also want my first time to be with someone I trust too.” Hermione’s head whips up. “And I can’t think of anyone I trust more than you.”
“So… is that a yes?” Hermione asks hesitantly.
Harry smirks. “Why don’t you ask me nicely?”
Hermione rolls her eyes, deciding that despite the blush, Harry seems entirely too comfortable and wanting to take him down a peg.
“Harry, will you pretty please with a cherry on top fuck me?” She flutters her eyelashes at him cartoonishly.
Harry’s smirk only widens.
“No.” He says with finality. Hermione only stares back at him dumbly, shocked that he would play with her emotions like that.
“No, I won’t fuck you.” He continues, shifting her legs off his lap and moving to kneel on the floor beside her. “You’re Hermione Granger. You’re my Hermione.” He kisses her forehead softly. “I will be gentle. I will probably be bad, but I will be gentle.” He kisses her cheek. “I want to make you feel good.” He kisses her other cheek. “I want you to know how much you mean to me. So, no Hermione, I will not ‘fuck you’.” Harry presses a gentle kiss to her lips. “I want you warm and comfortable in my bed. I want you happy. I want to make you feel as golden as you make me feel, have always made me feel. Is that okay with you?”
Hermione nods, unable to find her voice as her eyes flicker down to his lips. Harry smiles.
“Why don’t you go get comfy whilst I do a sweep. I won’t be long.” Hermione nods again, rising sluggishly before making her way to their bedroom.
Seeing her disappear, Harry hurries out the tent, barely remembering to grab the wand as he goes.
‘Fucking hell,’ he thinks, running his hand through his hair as he casts the diagnostics, ‘bloody fucking hell I’m about to have sex. No, no. Not just sex. Sex with Hermione. Christ. I need this to be good. No of course it won’t be good for her, it’s my first time, I’ll be lucky to not cum at the sight of her. Of Hermione. Naked. In my bed.’
Harry rubs his hand over his face, setting his glasses on an angle as he tries to calm down.
‘I played it cool. I think I played it cool. Good god. What did that magazine Fred and George showed me say? Go slow. Yes, okay, I can go slow. It said something about getting her ready. Maybe if I do that it’ll hurt less and she’ll enjoy it more. Fuck, how do I get her ready? Fingers. Use my fingers. Maybe my mouth as well.’ Harry freezes and looks down. ‘Fucking perfect. I’m hard just thinking about it. God she’s going to think I’m a freak. Okay. Take it slow. Use my hands and fingers to make it hurt less. Maybe if I’m not too bad she’ll want to do it again. Okay breathe. Calm down. It’s Hermione. She stayed. She’s still here and one round of bad sex isn’t going to scare her off. Shit. What if it scares her off? Don’t be ridiculous. You’re in a tent, hunting for pieces of a soul to destroy and take down a mad man. Bad sex is the least of her concerns.’
Harry takes a deep breath. Then another. He turns and makes his way back to the tent.
~*~
Hermione is freaking out. She knows she is freaking out as she paces around the room as Harry runs diagnostics on the wards outside.
‘How was he so calm?’ she thinks, ‘he said all that like it was nothing. I couldn’t have played it less cool if I had tried. I just nodded. Good going Hermione, real smooth that. I basically strong armed him into loosing his virginity! No. That’s not right. If Harry didn’t want to he would have said no and that would be that. But what if he thinks he wants it then realises he doesn’t? Oh my god what if he can’t get hard? What if he is so unattracted to me he can’t have sex with me? What if I’m so bad at it, he never wants to have sex again? Stop being ridiculous Hermione, he’s a teenage boy of course he’s going to want to have sex again. Just not with me. But that’s fine. We’ll have bad sex one time then continue on like it never happened. It’s for our safety… it’s for Harry’s safety. I need my wand for after. Fuck, Harry has it. Okay, vial. I need a vial.’
Hermione grabs her beaded bag, riffling through it and finally finds one after knocking several things over.
‘Vial secured. Maybe I should get naked? No that’s silly. I’ll get under the covers and wait. But maybe he wants this over quickly? Maybe he’ll close his eyes and think of anyone else and make it as quick as possible? Gods I hope not.’
Hermione’s panicked thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the tent zip closing. Hearing unhurried footsteps, Hermione decides to sit on the edge of the bed after removing her jumper and shoes.
Seeing Harry walk in, calm enough but with some badly hidden nerves, unharmed and bordering serene has Hermione relaxing but her pulse rising. He slips off his shoes before walking toward her.
“Hi.” He murmurs softly as he reaches her.
“Hi.” Hermione replies shyly. Harry can’t remember Hermione ever looking at him as she is now. He decides immediately that he likes it. He places her wand next to the vial on the bedside table.
“Could you… could you take your hair down? Please? I’ve always liked it down.” Harry asks.
Hermione looks at him surprised yet pleased as she removes her hair from its ponytail.
“Right-”
“So-”
They say in unison. They look at each other and laugh.
“We’re being silly.” Hermione says. “We’ve never been awkward with each other before, let’s not start now.”
“Agreed.” Harry says, still smiling.
“I think we just need to go for it. Gryffindor courage and all that.”
Hermione had barely got the words out before feeling Harry’s hands on either side of her face. Then he’s kissing her, soft and curious as Hermione’s brain tries to catch up. Then, she’s kissing him back. It feels natural. More natural than anyone else she’s kissed before. Her tongue asks for entry and he lets her in, a small moan escaping from him. She’s being pushed back gently, then she’s lying down, Harry’s body hovering over her own, his arms either side of her head as he tries to keep his weight off her. She’s pulling him down, closer, she decides, she needs him so much closer.
Harry pulls back, catching his breath as he pulls off his jumper and t-shirt. Hermione sits, pulling hers off and then his mouth is back on hers. He’s kissing down her neck, over her chest, pulling down the cups of her bra as he licks and nips gently at one nipple before moving across to the other. Her hands are in his hair and his name on her lips.
Harry tries and fails to undo her bra. They laugh together as Hermione arches her back, allowing him access. They stop laughing as he pulls her bra away, leaving them both exposed from the waist up. The doubts start creeping into Hermione’s mind as Harry stares at her, but his mouth is back on hers before they can fully form.
Soon, he’s kissing down her chest again, languidly taking a nipple in his mouth before kissing over her stomach, down to the top of her leggings. Harry hesitates.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” Hermione breathes out. The smile he gives her is her favourite of all time she decides.
Harry slowly peels her leggings off, making sure to kiss each exposed inch of skin as he does. Hermione is left in nothing but her knickers. Harry gazes at her, hoping she knows how much love and affection he feels for her, not just in this moment but always. Hermione lifts her hips, allowing Harry to remove her damp knickers before settling himself between her legs.
Harry moves toward her centre, Hermione’s hand stopping him briefly.
“You don’t have to.” She murmurs, her cheeks pink and lips swollen.
“I know.” Harry replies as he removes his glasses, handing them to her.
Harry licks and kisses at her, cataloguing each twitch and sound until he finds the spot that makes Hermione gasps.
“Right here?” He asks, licking at her clit. Hermione gasps before clamping a hand over her mouth.
“Please don’t.” Harry says as he looks up. “I want to hear you Hermione.” He emphasises this by sucking on her clit as he runs a finger up her slit, pressing gently along the way. Hermione moves her hand from her mouth to his hair, caressing it softly. Hearing her, Harry grows more confident, slipping his finger inside her as he sucks hard on her clit.
“Fuck, Harry!”
Growing bolder still, Harry adds a second finger after calming himself. Grinding lightly against the bed, Harry licks at Hermione, keeping his fingers steadily pumping in and out. Hermione’s hand clenches around his hair after he curls his fingers slightly. Trying it again, Harry curls his fingers, pressing steadily as he licks her clit. Hermione pulls his hair.
Gasping her apologies, Harry curls his fingers again, his other hand coming up to secure her hand to his hair. Hermione takes the hint, pulling lightly on his hair whenever he hits the right spot.
“Harry! I… I think I’m going to…” Hermione gasps out. Harry doesn’t slow. He continues his pace of licking and sucking at her clit as his fingers continue to curl before drawing them out of her.
Hermione cries out, hips bucking up into his face as Harry keeps going, whispering words of praise to her.
“So pretty Hermione. Taste so sweet. Please let me do that again. So pretty.”
Breathing heavily, Hermione looks down at him, pink faced and dazed.
“I need you, Harry. Please.” Harry rises, pushing his jeans and boxers down in one go, his erection now free and leaking. He kisses his way back up her body, kissing her tenderly as Hermione tastes herself on his lips.
Lining himself up, Harry looks at Hermione gratefully as she slips his glasses back onto his face. He kisses her tenderly in thanks.
“Ready?” Hermione nods. “I’ll go as slow as you need.”
True to his word, Harry pushes in just the tip, watching Hermione’s face for any signs of severe discomfort. With no sign of pain, hands clenching the duvet, Harry begins to push in as slowly as he can manage. Feeling some resistance, Harry brings his hand down to thumb at her clit, pushing through the barrier. Hermione winces then relaxes as Harry kisses her, one hand by her head, the other still rolling her clit between his fingers.
“Bloody hell.” Harry whispers through gritted teeth.
“Good?”
“You feel fucking fantastic.”
Hermione smiles, leaning up to capture his mouth again.
“Okay, you can move now.”
Harry draws out, pushing back in just as slowly as he had the first time. Harry groans, forehead falling forward, resting against Hermione’s.
Harry presses down harder on Hermione’s clit on the next push in.
“A little faster Harry. Please.”
Harry doesn’t need to be asked twice. He finds a steady pace, in and out, fucking into Hermione as gently as he can. He knows Hermione is becoming impatient as her legs wrap round him, her ankles pushing into him urging him to go faster but accidentally drawing him in deeper. Hermione gasps. Harry freezes and looks down at her.
“Do that again.” She whispers, glassy eyed.
Harry does, pushing in as deep as he can go before pulling out. Hermione gasps again. ‘Fuck’ he thinks, ‘I’m not going to last’.
“On your back Harry.”
Harry pulls out, wraps his hands around her waist and pulls her on top of him as he rolls onto his back. Hermione giggles before lining his cock up to her pussy, sinking down slowly as she adjusts to the new position. After a moment, she wiggles. Harry moans. Embarrassed, he covers his mouth with his hand.
“Uh uh, if you got to hear me, I get to hear you.” Hermione smiles, moving his hand from his mouth back to her clit before rolling her hips experimentally. They moan together. Hermione rolls her hips, faster this time as Harry continues to rub her clit. His hips buck up into her. When she moans, he does it again. And again. And again. Soon, he feels her clenching. His hands drop to her hips.
“Fuck Hermione. I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum.”
Hermione’s hand moves to her clit, her hips continuing to roll forward and back as she touches herself.
“Please Harry. Cum in me. I want to feel you.”
Harry lets out a wounded noise as he cums inside her. Hermione moans as she feels him filling her, her hand never stopping its ministrations of her clit. Letting out a final moan as she cums, Hermione collapses onto Harry, his heavy breathing filling her ear as he wraps his arms around her, holding her close to his chest, cock softening inside her.
Moments pass before Hermione jolts up.
“Shit, the vial.” She grabs the vial and her wand, gently sitting up and getting off Harry before lying on her back next to him. She syphons the liquid leaking out of her into the vial and puts it under a stasis charm.
“I’ll need your help with this tomorrow.”
“Don’t want to do it right now?” He asks.
“Nope, I’m far to comfortable.” Hermione tells him, snuggling into his side as he slings his arm around her, lazily drawing patterns onto her shoulder.
“Didn’t hurt too bad?” He asks, nervousness tinging his voice.
“Not too bad. Might be a bit sore tomorrow though.” Hermione kisses his cheek.
“And who knows? Maybe next time it wont hurt at all.”
Harry’s hand freezes. Hermione realises her mistake as soon as she’s made it.
“I mean next time I do it. Not that I wouldn’t want to. Do it again. With you I mean. I just meant-”
Harry kisses her. Hermione kisses him back.
“Next time.” He breathes, pulling back from the kiss. Hermione beams at him and in that moment, Harry feels golden.
~*~
The Forbidden forest
Battle of Hogwarts
“Avada kedavra!”
Everything is too bright. He’s supposed to be dead. Everything is meant to go black when you’re dead surely.
Harry cracks his eyes open. He’s in King’s Cross station yet everything is white and clean. Dumbledore’s there. So is part of Voldemort’s soul. Harry avoids looking at it. He can’t explain why but seeing it makes him feel sad. Dumbledore’s explaining that he can get on the first train, that everyone he has lost is at the other end waiting for him. His mum, his dad, Sirius, Remus, Tonks. They’re all there. Harry moves to board it, then, he hears her voice. It’s coming from the other train. She’s screaming. She’s wailing. One word, over and over. “Harry”. Her shouts feel endless. He has heard her say his name in everyway imaginable. Happy, angry, scared, but never like this. Never so helplessly. For the first time in his life, or his death he supposes, Harry has finally heard what Hermione Granger sounds like when everything feels hopeless.
Never before has he heard her sound like that. So full of anguish. Even when they had nothing, they had each other and hope. That was all they had ever needed. And now, as he thinks of boarding this train, Harry realises he has left her with neither.
“Professor. What happens if I board the other train?”
“That train will take you back to the land of the living.”
“And this one?”
“Will still be waiting for you when the time is right. As will the people at the other end of it.”
Harry doesn’t hesitate before jumping on the second train. He follows Hermione’s voice all the way back to the cold floor of the forbidden forest. He barely registers when he is being asked if Draco is still alive. Doesn’t flinch when he is pronounced dead to Voldemort and his sycophantic followers. He doesn’t stir when picked up by Hagrid, his first friend in the wizarding world, nor when he feels Hagrid’s body shudder as he cries for the boy he found sleeping on the floor in a remote house on his eleventh birthday. Harry remains still and silent, the sounds of Hermione screaming his name still ringing in his ears. Then he hears them across the courtyard. Can practically feel her sorrow as Neville is pulling out the sword and her relief when he falls from Hagrid’s arms.
He’s fighting Voldemort and her shouts stop. He’s watching Voldemort fall and then he is searching for her, desperate and near feral trying to spot her among the living and not hidden beneath the rubble.
There. She’s staring at him. He stares back. And then they are both moving, finding each other and drawn together like magnets. She runs to him and he to her then they are colliding, and Harry swears that in that moment, the grey battlefield looked golden. She’s touching him as if desperate to prove to herself he’s real. Her hands are in his hair, on his face, clutching at his shirt and then she is kissing him. His tears mingle with hers and they are laughing together.
Harry spots long red hair moving across the courtyard and feels a stab of panic before watching the girl run directly to the boy holding the sword. Harry smiles as he watches her leap at the boy, attaching herself to him as if he’ll disappear as he drops the sword, arms open and ready to catch her.
Then Ron is next to them, grabbing them both into his arms as he babbles through his tears about “her staying” and “you stayed, thank god you stayed.” They’re holding each other as they weep for those dead and those alive and for each other. For all they had endured together.
And even though the world has turned grey, and would remain so for a while, Harry finds himself searching every room for his girl, hoping and praying she would still want to share her golden light with him.
She always did.