Their First Night
by MisCard

Rating: NC17
Ship: Harry & Hermione
Canon: Books 1 - 7
Genre: Angst, Romance
Status: Complete
Length: 2,552 words in 1 chapter
Published: 30 Oct 2011
Last updated: 30 Oct 2011

AU-Hogwarts is celebrating the end of Voldemort on Halloween night, but Harry is in the mood for anything but happiness.
Halloween one-shot!

From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/8892/

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1. Their First Night

~A/N> Hello and Happy Halloween! Here's a smutty one-shot as your Halloween treat and the tricks will come later. Be on
the lookout for a new episode of Harmony Podcast on Monday if you're a listener/fan. Thanks for all of your reviews and
support, I love you all!

Harry Potter sat all alone in the Gryffindor common room, looking out the window as the rain fell in hard turrents
against the glass. There was only the fireplace and a few candles lit throughout the room, giving it an even spookier,
ethereal quality than what it had during the daytime hours. The final battle had been won, Voldemort was now nothing
more than a horrible memory in all their minds, and Harry hadn't been the same since the End. Downstairs, at that very
moment, everyone but Slytherin house was in the Great Hall celebrating Halloween and the defeat, but not Harry. He
hadn't been able to make himself go, to be packed into the room with everyone else congratulating him and wanting him to
tell the story of how Voldemort had died. He just couldn't make himself go, not even for his used-to-be girlfriend
Ginny. She had begged, even pleaded with him to go with her. He had known exactly what that meant, he would have been
paraded around by her, shown off by her, but nothing more. She wanted the attention he could bring her, and nothing
more.

This dark funk had descended on him the moment Voldemort drew his last breath, his death scream echoing in Harry's
dreams so often that he could barely sleep at all anymore. Whenever he closed his eyes all he could see were the battle
scenes, death, and destruction that the Death Eaters had left in their wake. When Voldemort had died, all of the Death
Eaters had collapsed, the poison in their Dark Marks flowing rapidly through their bloodstream once Voldy was gone and
every one of them had died instantly from the fast working toxin. Even Malfoy, who Harry had come to find out was
actually working on the side of Good. Unfortunately, that ruse cost him his life and he'd never be able to see what the
events he'd set in motion had accomplished.

Death and despair overwhelmed him, and he covered his eyes with his hands, not noticing the tremor that ran through him.
His eyes filled with unshed tears; he hadn't cried for any of the Dead since that retched day. He'd kept up a strong
front, played the part of the Hero, but he just couldn't do it anymore. A small part of him wished that he had died
along with everyone else that night. Then he wouldn't have to live with what he had done to save the still-in-the-dark
muggle world.

He could sense someone walking up to him, and he breathed deeply, trying to steady himself. When her perfume hit him, it
was like a balm on his raw soul, soothing all the places that had been torn from him. Opening his eyes, knowing that she
would never think less of him for grieving, he let her see the pain he was feeling. He could see the moment his agony
hit her, and she closed the distance between them quickly. When she was directly next to him, he stayed seated on the
chair in front of the fire and watched her as she moved. She had gone to the celebration dressed as a Death Eater, as
everyone was to dress as their favorite evil villain. The outfit she wore was pure black, mostly lace, and Harry
couldn't help the pure wave of desire that ran through him as he stared at her. She was absolutely beautiful in her
costume, a glowing Goddess dressed as a fallen angel, and before he could think about what he was doing, he reached out,
resting his hand on her bare thigh. When she didn't automatically bat his hand away, he leaned over and lay his head
against the bare skin on her stomach. Her skin was warm, and when that warmth started to seep into him, his body finally
relaxed a little. When she rest her hand on his head, slowly running her fingers through the dark colored strands of his
hair, he closed his eyes at the sensations her fingers caused to run through him.

Wanting to feel alive again, to forget all the damn darkness he'd been enveloped in for so long, he moved his hand from
her thigh slowly up to her stomach, running his fingers over every inch of skin in-between. When he heard a quiet gasp
escape her, he felt encouraged and moved that hand up and down, slowly, enjoying the way his fingers tingled and her
skin warmed even more under his touch. When both of her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him against her as much as
she could, he threw caution to the wind. He had wanted her for so long, needed her for longer, and here she was,
willing, alone with him. Wanting to ensure that she was his only that night, he waved the hand not in contact with her
soft skin toward the common room door, and they both could hear a locking noise from the door's direction. With a smile
on his face, the first smile since the Last Battle, he once again trained all attention on her, and kissed his way up to
her face. Standing fully now, with her body pressed against his in a most wonderful way, he stared down into the deep
depths of her cinnamin colored eyes and could see only willingness, desire and acceptance there. Moving slowly, he bent
down just enough so that his lips brushed against hers, and when her lips parted in welcome, he kissed her fully, not
holding any of his emotions back anymore. Completely giving himself over to her, he plundered her mouth with his while
his hands moved around her back and held her firmly pressed against him. When one of her hands started sliding down his
chest slowly, her fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake, his breath caught when that hand brushed over his hard
on, and he unknowingly tightened his arms around her.

When she broke the kiss, he felt bereft for a moment, and then she stepped back out of his embrace, leaving his body
yearning to have her back. He went to close the space between them once more, but the look she gave him stopped him
cold. It was a look he'd never seen her give anyone, and it was the sexiest damn thing he'd ever seen. When she stood
completely still, only moving her hands, he stared transfixed as she started to remove her costume. As each piece of
clothing came off, Harry's stare became sharper, and when she was standing in only a short pair of heels in front of
him, he felt as if he couldn't breath at all. She was absolutely beautiful, mind, body, and soul, and he didn't know
what he had done to deserve such a gift.

When she walked up to him and started unbottoning his shirt Harry couldn't help but reach out and tentatively touch one
of her breasts. Caressing her soft skin, he gently ran his thumb over the rose colored nipple and couldn't hold back
anymore. Taking two steps backward, he sat in the chair when the edge of the seat had hit his knees and brought Hermione
with him. When she still stood gloriously in front of him, he let her finish unbuttoning the shirt he wore and push it
down his arms. When she leaned forward to push his sleeves down he took advantage of her positioning. Capturing the
nipple of one breast in his mouth, he sucked greedily and Hermione moaned, a sound that started somewhere deep inside of
her and made its' way up to her throat. Feeling her skin vibrate with her moan, Harry sucked harder, as much as he could
until he thought it might actually cause her more pain than pleasure. He hadn't needed to be worried, though, because by
not taking his shirt completely off she had trapped his arms behind him and was taking full advantage of his entrapment.
While Harry lavished attention on one breast and then the other, Hermione leaned over and ran her fingernails gently
over the skin of his back. When he moaned, she moaned with him because with the sound he made, the vibration traveled
through her skin to her very core and felt so damn good.

While he explored every part of her naked body with both mouth and hands, Hermione noticed the scars on his shoulders,
upper arms, chest and back, and she couldn't help herself. Taking his shirt off completely, she leaned over, careful not
to interrupt Harry's exploration, and gently ran her fingertips over the scars while her eyes filled with tears. As she
kept tracing each seperate scar Harry stopped his ministrations and raised his eyes to catch hers, and held her gaze as
her finger still sought out the raised red skin.

"Please don't cry, Hermione."

"What the hell happened, Harry?"

Tugging gently on her arms, he settled her on his lap and wrapped his arms around her, taking courage from her
unknowingly. Holding on to her tightly, he explained, "Remember when Voldemort had me shackled in that dungeon? The one
that you and Ron had to come rescue me from? That's what those scars are from. I was there for three days, and every day
Voldemort would come into that dungeon just to torture me. He wasn't trying to get information from me, he wasn't trying
to punish me for any specific reason, he just wanted to have some fun."

Seeing her tears flowing quickly down her cheeks, he reached up and gently brushed them away with his thumb. Taking her
hands, he finished, "That's why, a year later when we faced each other down for the last time, I didn't hesitate
one.fucking.second. That son-of-a-bitch deserved what he got for treating me like that. For all the pain he's caused the
wizarding world. For all the pain he's caused you."

When he finished talking, Harry waved his hand to encompass the Gryffindor common room, and the doors leading to the
boys and girls dormitories, the locks on all the doors locking firmly in place and all the candles in the room were
suddenly extinguished. Being careful, he picked Hermione up in his arms and lay her down on the rug that lay in front of
the huge common room fireplace. Before joining her, Harry quickly took off his pants and boxers, laying them aside as he
stared at Hermiones skin glowing in the firelight. Laying next to her, he propped himself up on one elbow and reached
out to her, the need to touch her growing to a fever pitch. Brushing her hair back from her face, Harry's fingertips ran
gently down her face, over one breast and then the other, using his hand to ignite trails of fire on her skin. When he
reached the valley between her legs, he probed gently to see if she was ready, and her body raised up to push him into
her deeper, and he found her wet. Positioning himself over her, he stared down at her and again thanked the Gods for
her. When she reached up and put her hand behind his head, pulling him down to kiss her, he parted her legs slowly and
gave her time to stop him if she weren't ready. When she just continued the kiss, he moved so that he was positioned at
her opening and gently pushed into her. Reaching the barrier that proved his suspicion that she was still a virgin, like
him, he stopped and took a moment to let her body adjust to him. While still kissing him, their kiss had become lazy,
and commiting the feel of her lips on his to memory he found he couldn't hold back any longer and he pushed through that
barrier as quickly as he could without hurting her.

He had to still himself once he was inside her completely, her walls pulsing around him in time with her heartbeat, so
as not to hurt her more than he already was. When all restraint faded, he moved as slowly as he could, in and out of
her, joining them as one in a ritual that was older than time itself. He had always wanted her, she had always wanted
him, and they had unknowingly saved themselves for one another. On this night, the last Halloween they would spend in
Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione became one. When he couldn't hold back any longer, he emptied himself inside her and
stilled, his breaths coming fast and hard. He was exhausted, his arms felt like jelly, and he couldn't remember the last
time he had felt this at peace.

Looking down at her, he saw the fresh tear tracks on her face and a little of his happiness died. When she saw his
features school from happy to worried once more, she put a hand on each of his cheeks and looked deep into his eyes.
With a tinge of fear in her voice she whispered, "I love you Harry."

No one had ever told him they loved him.

It caught him off guard for a moment, and she could see fear play out over his face and her worry intensified. He was
looking around the common room, blinking quickly, and she was so very afraid that she had told him too soon. But when he
looked down at her once more with tears shining bright in his eyes and a small smile playing at his mouth, she knew her
worry was for nothing.

"I...I love you too, Hermione."

With a real smile lighting her face, Hermione kissed him deeply and completely. She wanted to remember this moment
forever, the moment when Harry finally knew that someone truly loved him for the real wizard that he was, not just
because of his name. The look on his face was one of wonder, happiness, and fear. She could understand each emotion
completely, because she felt them as well. But at least he knew that he would never be alone in this world again, for as
long as she was with him. They were together now, he was her world and she was his. That night the two lovers fell
asleep on that rug in front of the fireplace, their bare skin warmed from the fires heat and the warmth of their
entwined bodies. The fact that the other Gryffindors were locked out for the entire night would become a very big joke
among their friends, as Harrys' love for Hermione had made all of his spellcasting that night ten times more powerful
than any other time he had cast simple locking spells. So they enjoyed their first night together alone, and the other
Gryffindors got to spend the night in the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff dormitories.

That was as close to a happy ending as they were ever going to get, and they were completely okay with it. The other
Gryffindors, well...they had more than one life experience that night, and made memories that would last a lifetime.
