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.”