Hunting Horcruxes
by Sidewalk Doctor

Rating: NC17
Ship: Harry & Hermione
Canon: Books 1 - 6
Genre: Romance
Status: Complete
Length: 4,090 words in 1 chapter
Published: 1 May 2006
Last updated: 1 May 2006

Harry and Hermione are stranded together while hunting horcruxes. Yeah, you can figure out where it goes from there.

From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/5998/

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1. untitled

Set in 7 th year. AU kinda. Spoilers up to HBP.

Harry and Hermione stumbled into the deserted building, the door slamming shut behind them. Instantly, everything went
pitch-black.

There was a loud thump  and Hermione grabbed Harry's arm. “Ow… Harry, I can't see a blasted thing!”

“You OK?”

“Yeah, I just hit my foot… oof!”

Harry tripped and fell, dragging Hermione with him. The pair tumbled down a short set of steps until they finally hit
the floor, Harry flat on his back and Hermione on top of him.

It was still pitch-dark.

“Harry, I'm so sorry… are you all right?” Hermione asked with concern.

“I've been better. Fortunately you don't weigh very much.”

Her light, silvery laughter floated into the dark room. “Thanks… I think.”

“Umm… Hermione?”

“Yeah?”

“You're ummm… on my wand.”

Oh, she could definitely feel his wand, all right. But she didn't imagine that was the wand he meant. She was straddling
him and awkwardly shifted her position, trying to get his wand out from his back pocket.

“Hermione, what are you doing?” Her hand was on his butt and definitely nowhere near his wand. Although given the way
she was wriggling on top of him, she wouldn't have any trouble locating his other  wand.

“Sorry… maybe you should keep your wand elsewhere?”

“Well, what about yours?”

“I dropped it. Yours will have to do…. Oh, here it is.” She produced the wand—the magic  one, you perverts—and uttered,
“Lumos!”

A pale bluish light glowed from the tip of Harry's wand, illuminating a small, dingy room that appeared to have been
deserted for ages. A thick layer of dust covered nearly every available surface, and cobwebs clung to the walls and
ceiling.

“Well, it's not exactly five stars, but it'll have to do,” Hermione remarked. She staggered to her feet, helping Harry
up. “Lupin said we'd be safe here.” She turned to her best friend with worried eyes. “Do you think they'll come back for
us?”

“Of course they will,” Harry assured her. “They'll be fine… don't worry.”

He laid his hand on her shoulder as a gesture of comfort. She regarded him anxiously for a moment, then gradually
relaxed, as she always did when she was with him. Harry had a way of making her feel better about anything, despite how
dire the situation seemed.

By the light of Harry's wand, she located her own wand lying on the floor about five feet from them. She snatched it up
and uttered “Lumos!” while Harry took stock of their surroundings. The furnishings were pitifully meager—a small table
with two uncomfortable wooden chairs and a cot covered with an old scratchy blanket.

Hermione came over to join him, and by the light of her wand, Harry could see she was quite the worse for wear. She had
dirt smudged across her face and a few minor scratches and cuts, but thankfully she didn't seem to be hurt too badly. He
let out a quiet sigh of relief. He didn't know what he would do if she'd gotten seriously hurt—or worse--while on this
journey with him.

“Ugh, there's nothing here… no food or anything,” Hermione observed, dismayed. “This is gross.” She started wiping off
the table, doubling over in a coughing fit as the clouds of dust filled the air.

“Hermione, forget about it,” Harry told her. “Are we really going to use that table anyway?”

“I highly doubt it,” she replied, suddenly seized by a bizarre urge to laugh. They were stranded in the middle of who
knows where on a hunt for horcruxes, separated from their friends, hiding out in some deserted hut until the danger
passed, and she was worried about the dustiness of the table.

“I've still got some water in my pack… how about you?”

“I'm good on water. Almost out of food though.”

“I've still got a bit of cauldron cake. We can share.”

The two of them sat down on the floor, leaning against the cot as Harry broke the cauldron cake in half and passed one
piece to Hermione.

“Mmm, stale cauldron cake. This is the life,” she joked. Without thinking, Harry splashed a few drops of water onto his
handkerchief and reached out to wipe the dirt smudges from her face. Startled, Hermione was silent for once, gazing at
him with wide brown eyes.

For a moment, something in the air seemed to shift between them, and he wondered if she sensed it, too. And then, just
as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and he lowered the handkerchief and regarded her with an awkward smile.
“You had some dirt on your face…”

“Oh… thanks.” She flashed him an uncharacteristically shy smile and went back to what was left of her cauldron cake.
“Are you sure you're all right?”

“Yeah… been better, but it's just cuts and bruises. You?”

“Same. We're tough,” she quipped, raking a hand through her tangled brown curls. “We've gotten out of worse scrapes than
this one.”

“True,” he agreed.

They lapsed into easy, companionable silence for a while as they finished their meager meal. “Well, looks like we're
spending the night here,” Harry remarked. “Maybe we should try to get some sleep?”

“Probably a good idea,” Hermione agreed, although she didn't look altogether comfortable with the notion. She wanted to
be alert and awake should they find themselves in danger again.

“OK… just… ummm…” Lord, he sounded like a stammering 11-year-old. “One bed.”

She arched an eyebrow at him, seeming to take great amusement in his discomfort. “Harry, we're almost eighteen. I think
we can share a bed without… you know.”

“Umm, yeah, I suppose.” He felt stupid.

“I hope you don't toss and turn a lot, because this bed really isn't very big.” She stood up, wrinkling her nose at the
scratchy blanket. “Maybe we should forgo covers.”

“Yeah.” Harry watched as she yanked the blanket off the bed, sneezing repeatedly as dust flew up all over the place. He
quickly came to her aid and tossed the blanket aside, sneezing as well.

“Oh, God, I think I've got dust in my nose,” Hermione muttered, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Gross!”

“Right there with you,” he commiserated.

They both stood there for a moment, looking at the bed, neither of them moving.

“I'm not really tired right now,” Hermione confessed. “Are you?”

“Not really,” Harry answered.

They sat back down side-by-side on the floor.

“So… ummm… what happened with you and Ron?” Harry asked, fumbling for some kind of small talk to distract from the
weirdness of that moment.

Talk about picking the wrong question. Looking vaguely flustered, Hermione said, “Nothing, really.”

“Nothing?”

She shook her head. “It's strange, you know? I spent all these years wanting to be with him and now that it's actually
happening… I'm not so sure anymore. It's like… I don't know, maybe I was more into the idea  of Ron than Ron himself… if
that makes any sense.”

“Actually, it does,” Harry remarked. He identified with that feeling more than he cared to admit.

“I don't know… I just feel all confused right now. I don't know what I want from him,” Hermione confessed. “Maybe we'd
have all been best off just staying friends.”

“Maybe,” Harry agreed.

More silence.

“So, umm… how's everything with Ginny?” This time it was Hermione breaking the silence.

“Oh. She's good. I'm glad she's back at Hogwarts and safe.”

“Too bad you had to break her heart to do it.”

Harry looked at Hermione, discomfited but not altogether surprised at her perceptiveness. “I wanted to protect her. It
was the only way I knew how.”

“I know.” She cast him a knowing glance. “Yet, by that logic, you could've broken up with me and Ron to keep us safe,
but you didn't.”

“Oh, like you two would've ever let me go off without you.”

“Touche,” Hermione agreed, her mouth curving into a half-smile, “but still… it would've been nice to have you at least
try  to be impossibly noble on us.”

“I did try,” Harry admitted, although he granted it was a rather half-assed attempt. “I don't know, I guess I'm so used
to having you here that I just couldn't imagine being without you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? I don't vex you terribly with my bossiness and bookishness?”

“You haven't had any moldy old books with us on this trip,” Harry joked. “Probably because they don't fit in your pack.”

She playfully smacked him on the arm. “Very funny… even if it is true.”

He laughed, too. After a moment he said, “You know, Hermione, for all the things you believe vex me so much… I honestly
wouldn't have it any other way. If I had to be stuck in some abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere, I can't think of
anyone else I'd want with me.”

She peered at him for a moment, as if unsure whether to believe him or not. “Not even Ron?” she asked.

He hesitated. “OK, well, maybe Ron.”

She smacked him on the arm again and, laughing, he swatted her arm back. They were still laughing when a sudden boom! 
outside startled them.

Hermione's eyes went perfectly round and they instantly went silent. Harry extinguished their wands immediately. Another
loud boom!  sounded and instinctively, Harry grabbed Hermione and pulled her to the ground with him. Shielding her body
with his, he waited for several tense moments. But there were no more noises from outside, and soon there were
absolutely no sounds except for their own breathing.

“Do you think….” Hermione whispered, her breath warm against Harry's ear.

“I think it's passed,” he whispered back, acutely aware of the feel of her hair against his cheek. It was surprisingly
soft, almost silky. It smelled sweet and incredibly nice… he wondered what shampoo she used.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, pretty sure.”

“OK.” Neither of them moved. She was lying beneath him on the hardwood floor, her hands gripping his shoulders and his
denim-clad leg between hers. They didn't dare even shift their positions… after all, they weren't sure they were in the
clear just yet.

“I think… we can get up now,” she murmured after a moment, her words muffled against the side of his face. In the deep
silence he'd become oddly aware of her heartbeat, the way he could almost feel her heart thumping practically right
against his. Very rapidly.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“You're on top of me.”

“Oh.” Right. He started to shift his position, slowly raising himself up on his arms. He fumbled around in the dark
until his fingers curled around of their wands, and said, “Lumos!”

The pale blue light illuminated the room again, and he was able to see her face. It was just inches from his, her soft
lips slightly parted and her eyes round and curious. She blinked and he noticed how long her lashes were… long and
graceful and pretty, and he wondered how he'd never seen how very delightfully female Hermione was.

He was aware of every little sensation now, the warmth of her hands where they held his shoulders and the softness of
her body beneath his and how un weird this felt, when it should've been extremely weird.

She was his best friend.

And yet, the feelings he was entertaining at the moment were anything but friendly.

“Harry…” Hermione murmured, her voice raising slightly on the last syllable, almost in a question. Hearing her speak
drew his attention to her lips. And then…

The next part happened before he was even aware he was doing it. He leaned over and kissed her, refusing to think about
what it would mean and what would happen next and anything else, really, but satisfying this fierce impulse that had
come over him. She seemed startled at first, but slowly sank into the kiss, opening her mouth to him and responding in
earnest. His tongue stroked against hers while his hands threaded through her hair, feeling it slide through his fingers
like raw silk. She made a soft little mewling sound against his lips and wiggled beneath him, her hand sliding up the
back of his neck and into his messy dark hair. His body responded instantly and in a moment she was definitely going to
feel his, erm, wand.

His hands moved over her body as though discovering her for the first time. He didn't even stop to reflect on how
strange it was to be kissing Hermione like this, because it wasn't strange at all. It felt so natural and right.
Meanwhile, her hands explored his body with the same sense of wonder, and suddenly, there were way too many layers of
fabric between them and he became aware that the floor wasn't the best place to… umm… continue their activities.

Hermione seemed to realize it at the same time. “Harry?”.

“Yes?”

“Not that I'm not… umm… enjoying this, but this floor isn't really comfortable, and my back is starting to hurt….”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Rather sheepishly, he staggered to his feet and helped her up. They sank down onto the bed
together, Hermione climbing on top of him and taking up where they left off.

His hands roamed over her back as she kissed his neck, her lips forging a trail across his skin that burned like
fireflies and sent an electrical shock straight to his… well, you get the idea. His fingers seized the hem of her
sweatshirt and she lifted her arms, allowing him to pull the garment over her head. Her thin white tank top followed
suit, and then she hastily divested him of his jacket and t-shirt.

It wasn't warm in the room, not by any means, but somehow, that didn't seem to matter much to them. He barely felt the
cool air on his skin as her hands blazed a trail over his chest, sliding around his shoulders as his own hands caressed
her bare back. His hands slid down over the soft curve of her bottom, pulling her against him. She arched her body
instinctively, the bulge in his jeans brushing against her stomach. She gasped into his mouth, her hand creeping down
past his stomach to the waist of his jeans.

Harry knew if he didn't stop this immediately, he'd be done for before he even got her out of her jeans. “Ummm…
Hermione?”

“Hmmm…?” Her finger traced the fly of his jeans and he nearly jumped. Oh, dear Merlin.

“Have you… ummm… I mean… have you done this before?”

“Oh. Um, not exactly.”

He frowned slightly. Not exactly? What was that supposed to mean, and why was he afraid to ask?

“Have you?” she asked.

“Ummm… not exactly,” he answered.

“OK. Well… hang on.” She climbed off of him.

“Where are you going?”

“Contraceptive charm.” She managed to locate her wand, uttered the charm, and climbed back on top of him. “All right,
that's taken care of.”

“Oh, good. I'm glad you thought of it.”

“I should hope at least one of us would.”

“OK….” Now what?

“This is a bit awkward,” she said, smiling a bit sheepishly.

“Yeah, just a little.” He smiled back.

“So, umm… where were we?”

“You were… ummm…”

“Oh yes. Right.” She started to unbutton his jeans.

Whoa. Hold up. “Change of plans,” Harry said, and flipped them over so she was lying beneath him and he was straddling
her.

“Ooh, taking charge, eh?” Hermione flashed him an arch smile, which wasn't helping his situation much. “I like that.” He
was kissing her stomach, gradually working his way up starting at the waistband of her jeans. “Mmmmm yes… I really like
that.”

His mouth claimed hers again as his hand eased higher, cupping her lace-covered breast in his palm. He traced his thumb
over her nipple, feeling it tighten and peak against the thin fabric. She sighed into his mouth, which he took as
encouragement to continue. Her breathing became light and shallow and she started to squirm beneath him, clearly pleased
with what he was doing. “Harry?” she said breathlessly.

“Yes?”

“Take it off.”

“Umm… what?”

“My bra. Take it off.”

“Oh. Right….” He reached behind her trying to find the clasp, fumbling around with no success. Crap. He felt like an
idiot. Talk about ruining the moment.

“It fastens in the front. Oh… never mind, I'll do it.” She reached up, flicked open the clasp and tossed the white lacy
undergarment aside.

If Harry had thought he was in danger of losing it before, he definitely  was now.

“Harry… are you going to stare at my boobs all night or are we going to do this?”

“Oh. Sorry.”

She laughed. “It's all right… I assume you like what you see.”

Oh yes, he did. “You,” he whispered to Hermione, dropping light kisses around her ear, “are so beautiful.”

“Oh, my God, that was so cheesy.”

He froze.

“But it's cute… I like it. Continue.”

He wasn't sure what to say to that, but just responded by kissing her again.

Her hands caressed his back as she began to move beneath him, her breasts pillowed against his chest as her hips rose in
an eloquent arch. He moved in tandem with her, the bulge in his jeans pressing against the V where her thighs met. The
friction through all the layers of fabric was almost unbearable, and after a few moments, he was starting to worry about
staying power again.

Hermione seemed to sense his fear and reached for the fly of his jeans, hastily unzipping them and sliding them over his
hips. She lifted her hips as he helped her wriggle out of her own jeans… sweet Merlin, what was that she was wearing?
Why, it was just a flimsy piece of pink lace held in place by two strings….

“Nice boxers, Harry.”

Naturally he had to be wearing the plaid ones today.

“I, uhhh….” He couldn't think of a single thing to say.

Hermione took advantage of his temporarily frozen state to reach out and ease his boxers over his hips, helping him out
of them. He finally came back to his senses enough to help her wiggle out of that flimsy excuse for knickers and then…

She reached out to curl her fingers around his erection, but he knew that if he let her continue, he would risk greatly
embarrassing himself, not to mention ruining the experience for her. He slid his hand over hers, stopping her. “Don't.”

Hermione looked bewildered. “But don't you want me to….”

Harry shook his head. “Not now….”

“Oh….” The rest of her reply was muffled by his kiss, to which she readily responded. His hand slid over the soft
triangle of damp curls at the apex of her thighs and over the seam of her sex, causing her to inhale sharply against his
mouth. Her gasp gave way to a soft sigh as his fingers probed her gently, trying to find a rhythm that she liked. He
knew a little bit about what to do… bits and pieces he'd heard from other guys… but actually doing it with a girl felt
really… terrifying. Fortunately for him, Hermione wasn't shy about showing him what she wanted. Her hand slid over
Harry's and guided him, until his thumb found the soft nub of flesh at her core and his finger eased gently into her
passage.

He stroked deeply with one finger, then two, her dampness coating his fingers as her insides fluttered lightly around
him. Her breathing grew quick and shallow as her hips bucked against his hand, her body arching in a plaintive plea for
more. Harry knew he wasn't going to last much longer, so he moved above her, settled himself between her thighs.
“Hermione… I'm sorry, I….”

“It's all right, Harry,” she said breathlessly. “I'm ready.”

Her eyes slid closed as he slowly, haltingly eased inside of her, her grip tightening on his shoulders as he pushed
deeper into her. He knew it was her first time and it would probably be painful, no matter how hard he tried to make it
good for her, and he felt guilty about it. “I don't want to hurt you….”

“It's going to hurt, Harry. It's all right. I trust you.”

Green eyes met brown ones and in that moment, he had never felt closer to her—to anyone. An emotion both wonderful and
terrifying welled up inside of him and for a moment, he was too overwhelmed to even think. Then he leaned forward and
captured her mouth in a deep kiss, hoping to somehow convey the depth of that feeling and see if she was feeling the
same thing, too.

His kiss muffled her soft whimper he broke through the final barrier of her virginity, and for a moment he lay still,
letting her get used to the feel of him. “Are you….?”

“Yes, Harry, I'm fine,” Hermione assured him. “I like the feel of you inside of me… it's nice. It's right. ”

She smiled up at him, and warmth flowed over him from head to toe. He leaned over to kiss her again, his tongue sweeping
into her mouth and mimicking his movements below as slowly, gently, he began to move within her. Waves of heat slid
through him with every thrust and drag, her insides sheathing him like warm, slick velvet. His breathing fell into a
rhythm that matched the beating of her heart as incendiary sensation rose and built within him. The tension coiled
tighter and tighter with every ragged breath and blissful sigh until it reached an almost unbearable crescendo, his
control stretched as thin and tight as a wire as her nails dug into his skin and a soft cry spilled from her lips. She
was close; he could feel it, and struggled to hold on just long enough to bring her to completion. When she climaxed he
felt it through every part of him, shaking him to the core and echoing through his body in a thousand blissful
aftershocks. The tenuous strings that held his own control snapped, his own climax raging through him as he drove into
her with a final deep thrust. He worried briefly that he'd hurt her but she seemed to like it, her ragged breathing
matching his own as he collapsed beside her and they slowly spiraled down together.

“Well… that was… nice,” she murmured, gazing at him through lowered lashes.

“Nice?” he joked, raising an eyebrow. “That's the best you can do?”

“Well, how would you describe it?”

“Umm… really  nice.” They both laughed. He rolled over, pulling her against him spoon-fashion. He pulled the sheet over
them to ward off some of the cold.

“Are you cold?” he asked solicitously.

“No… I'm fine with you here.” She leaned up, smiling at him over her shoulder. He leaned over and captured her lips in a
soft, sweet kiss. Her eyes slid closed as she snuggled against him, his arm slung around her slender waist and his warm
breath upon her neck. “Harry?” she murmured, already half asleep.

“Yes?”

“We shouldn't sleep too long… you know…and let our guard down.”

“I know. We'll just rest for a minute.”

The next thing they knew, they were both roused from deep sleep by what sounded like footsteps on the stairs and voices.
“Harry? Hermione? Are you here?” Lupin's voice called.

Hermione's eyes snapped open as Harry hastily reached for his glasses, wondering just how on earth he was going to fudge
his way out of this. But it didn't matter. Lupin strode in barely a moment later, with Tonks behind him. He looked oddly
unsurprised to see Harry and Hermione curled under the sheet together, their clothes tossed unceremoniously beside the
cot along with their packs.

Hermione sat bolt-upright in the bed, trying to look as dignified as possible considering her hair looked even wilder
than ever and she wasn't wearing a scrap of clothing but the sheet she held against her breasts. Harry was beside her,
crossing his arms over his pale chest. “I… can explain?”

“Why don't you two just get dressed?” Lupin asked, averting his eyes from the embarrassed couple. “You don't need to
explain anything to us.”

He and Tonks turned away, walking back up the stairs to give Harry and Hermione some privacy. “All right, Remus… pay
up,” Tonks whispered, grinning wickedly at him.

FIN. And stuff.
