Regrets?

Title: Regrets?
Author: Jori
Web: http://www.like-bunnies.com/hidingout
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: 1-5
Summary: After a night of celebrating, Hermione wakes up to find herself naked in Harry's bed for the first time. With a brand new tattoo.

Author's Notes: This story is based on the wonderful piece of artwork by Nacey that shows Hermione with a tattoo of a Snitch on her lower abdomen. Nacey challenged us all to write fics to go with the picture and here's my answer to the challenge. Be warned that this story includes some drunkenness and some smut and thus Hermione might be out of character. Thanks to Liss and MoJo for giving this a read through and thanks to everyone who dealt with my wibbliness about posting it.

*****************

"Oh, bloody hell."

Those were the first words Hermione rasped out of her parched throat when she opened her eyes. She had several reasons for saying those particular words. First, her head was pounding and she obviously drank far too much last night as they were celebrating. Second, she was completely naked and had no real clue where her clothing might be. And third, and most worthy of a bloody hell, was the fact that she not only had a hangover and was naked but she was both of those things and in Harry's bed. With Harry. Harry, who also appeared to be without clothing and not too shy about hiding anything.

For a moment, she considered the possibility that nothing happened last night. Perhaps they ended up in bed together because she was too tired or drunk to Apparate to her own flat. They were naked because... because they were hot. She sat up, putting her legs over the side of the bed when long unused muscles in her body started screaming at her for moving so suddenly. That dashed away any notion that nothing happened. Even though it had been a while, Hermione still knew what that morning after a good shag feeling.

So, she and her best friend finally did it. Yes, they did and she wasn't really sure what to think about that beyond the 'bloody hell' thing. Her eyes traveled slowly over his lean body, feeling rather like the voyeur when she got to a part she had never seen before (or rather, didn't remember seeing before because she was certain she saw it at some point through the night.) She took a quick peek and then looked at this legs and down to his feet and then followed the same path back up. When she got to his face, she was thankful he was still asleep. She wasn't sure she was ready to face him just yet. She needed a few minutes to collect her thoughts.

Standing up, Hermione looked at her reflection in the mirror, glad for once that the mirror didn't have any comments. It probably saw enough overnight and was speechless. Her eyes traveled over her body, noticing a few red marks here and there -- things must have gotten rough-- and that's when she noticed it.

"Bloody hell!" she said loud enough to wake up the dead. And Harry.

"Wha... who's there? Where's my broom?" he asked, only half awake. In the mirror, Hermione watched as he sat up, wiping his bleary eyes. He reached for his glasses, pushing them up on his nose and that's when he noticed who was standing in his room. "Hermione?" And then he noticed what she was wearing. "Oh... oh, bloody hell."

She turned to face him and he started rubbing his temples vigorously. "How much did we have to drink and what was it?"

"Too much... and I can?t remember," he answered, trying not to look at her directly but stealing little glances when he could.

"And when did I get this?" Hermione asked, reaching for a sheet and wrapping it around her hips. She pointed at the image on her lower abdomen and Harry crawled across the bed to take a closer look.

"That's nice. It's one of those tattoos that are magically placed into your skin... very little pain at all. Look at how it sparkles! And the wings looks like they?re fluttering about," Harry said, reaching out to touch it. Hermione stepped away from his touch and he pulled his hand back, looking dejected.

"I don't remember anything," she said softly, hoping he understood when she said she didn't remember anything, she meant she really didn't remember anything. The last thing she recalled was going to a pub to celebrate England coming from behind for a spot at the Quidditch World Cup. There was drinking and dancing and laughing... and obviously more. A lot more. She held the sheet with one hand while covering her breasts with her other arm.

He was still staring at the Snitch that was now a part of her body and she wondered if there was a way to remove it. Maybe it was the one thing about the past night she could change. She and Harry exchanged nervous glances and he covered himself up with a quilt.

"I..."

"We..."

Neither of them knew what to say. Maybe if she could remember it would be different but this was just plain awkward.

"I should get to work," Hermione offered up.

"It's Sunday," Harry said blankly.

"Still, I do have work to do. I have several projects that I need to finish reports for and... I...."

"Want to get the hell out of here as fast as you can?" Harry finished for her and Hermione shut her mouth, pondering what to say next. If only she could remember anything. One little thing. She would take a potion as soon as she got into the office that should help her remember. Then she would be able to deal with this all better. For now, she looked down at the sparkly tattoo on her belly and stifled a laugh. She slept with her best friend and got a tattoo all in the same night. For the love of Merlin, how drunk could she have gotten in that short amount of time?

"It's not that, Harry. You know that. But I do have things I have to do. I'll talk to you later? I promise," Hermione said, quickly grabbing up as much of her clothing as she could find and putting them on as fast as she could, finding her wand tucked in the back pocket of her jeans. Before Apparating out of there and to her own flat so she could wash up, she gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. "Congratulations on last night. I mean, for the Quidditch... not for the... well, congratulations, Harry."

And with that, she was gone.

************

Hermione stared at the bottle of amber liquid sitting on her desk. She had been studying it for two hours, completely ignoring the paperwork she said she had to come in and finish.

She wasn't sure she wanted to know. Oh, she wanted to know what it was like with Harry. She had wondered about that for years now. But she didn't want to know how she could lose control and go so far. She liked to be in control. She was rarely ever out of control. Last night, she was very much out of control and there was no way to really deny it.

But did she want to see it all again? To relive it? Would she be able to face Harry again, especially if she made a complete fool of herself? And would he be doing the same thing right this minute -- trying to find out exactly how he ended up in bed with her?

She was sure Harry wasn't hard up to find someone to take home with him last night -- or any night for that matter. His face was still plastered all over the Daily Prophet quite often and she knew he had a huge following, mostly female. So, after all this time, how did they end up in bed together?

There was only one way to find out. Hermione pulled the stopper out of the bottle and swallowed the bitter liquid quickly, feeling it burn as it hit her stomach.

Then it started. The images in her mind hit her so violently that she had to put her head down on her desk. Swirling around in a fury, the colors all melted together and struggled to pull apart and into some form and she fought the urge to vomit. Her head was already pounding from whatever she drank last night and now she could feel every vein throbbing.

Soon, the storm of color and shapes turned into something recognizable... a vision through her own eyes of exactly what she wanted to remember. It snapped past her so quickly, as if she was a child on a carousel going around too fast, and she could only catch quick glimpses of this and that and it just wasn't enough. She reached out, trying to stop it and then... it was like she was there... standing right there with Harry laughing and pulling her somewhere. They had lost Ron in the crowd and Harry still had on his red England robes as did so many around them. They followed a cheering mass of his teammates into a pub and then someone put a drink into Harry and her hands...

The person serving up the drinks promised them the best night of their lives with no regrets in the morning and that idea sounded good to Hermione. She thought he was talking about no pounding head in the morning. She didn?t know that no regrets meant no memories. Then there were more drinks. Many more.

Hermione moaned. She didn't want to remember the drinking. She shook her head, trying to shake that part of the memory away and it worked.

She and Harry were laughing together now, but hers was a nervous laugh, and then she was exposed. Someone was touching her stomach -- someone she didn't know -- and Harry watched, his eyes wild, and he licked his lips when she jerked from the sensation of the stranger's wand touching her there. Around her, thousands of designs fluttered on the canvas walls and she couldn't image why she picked the one she did. Maybe she had figured out the drink and was forgetting already and wanted something left in the morning.

Or maybe... it reminded her of Harry. She wanted something to remind her of this moment -- and of her best friend -- on her body forever. As soon as the tattoo was done, she wanted him. She wanted him to look at her like he looked at her when the wrinkled little wizard was applying it to her stomach but only she wanted him to look at her like that in bed. She knew she shouldn't be thinking about such things while she was so drunk but she needed him.

'How did that feel, Hermione?' Harry asked. He sounded giddy, reaching for her hand as soon as she finished zipping up her jeans and covering her newly embedded tattoo.

'That felt wonderful,' she said and it was the truth. The tattoo was sending strange pulses through her body and it made her need more. With that thought, she ended up in Harry's arms, pressing her mouth to his, her tongue moving past his lips. Everything twirled and swirled around here and then she was in his room, tumbling quickly toward his bed. She could remember soft fingers gliding over her body and she shuddered when he touched her there for the first time. She begged for him to make her come and... then his hips thrust against hers and the memory skipped ahead again until he was gasping... thrusting hard...

It was so real that Hermione could feel his warmth over her and tiny tremors passed through her body. She moaned and sat up, struggling to focus... to forget the wave of memories. She realized then and there that she didn't want Harry to be just a memory -- something lost in the night. She wanted to know how his lips felt and be able to remember it. She wanted to know what came next but actually know it. She didn't want some memory of Harry Potter.

She wanted him.

Hermione laughed at that thought. A few hours ago, she couldn't get away from him fast enough and now this? She couldn't imagine what could be causing her to feel this way but it had to be something. Something had to have changed and it wasn't just the drink. She and Harry had gotten drunk together before and she didn't end up in his bed. Something...

The only thing new was the tattoo. She only felt the urge to kiss him after the tattoo.

"Oh, bloody hell," Hermione said, putting her head in her hands. She had a thought and now she had to find out more. Maybe she should end it here but she knew she had to know. That was just the way she was.

************

"Do you remember me?" Hermione asked the wizard. He looked even older than Professor Dumbledore, his beard longer and a silvery white. He had beads throughout his beard and they glistened different shades of purple and blue depending on how the light hit them.

"Ah, yes. The young woman with the Snitch. And the boy who caught the Snitch, if I remember correctly," the wizard said and Hermione blushed. Of course Harry hadn't gone unrecognized, even when she was the one getting the tattoo. Regaining her composure, Hermione looked at the wizard and his supplies and asked him what she needed to know.

It never occurred to her earlier that she might have had some odd reaction to the tattoo but it wasn't unheard of. Perhaps the metal in the colors or perhaps it was just a touch of magic.

"The tattoo you gave me... did it have any powers? Was there anything in it that could have made me... do things?" she asked, skirting around exactly what she had done.

"Powers? No, no powers and no special magic beyond what is used to apply them. Of course, as I'm sure you found out by now, all of my work is magical and these are not normal,ugly Muggle tattoos. We are what we are, now aren't we?" he said with a wink.

Hermione nodded and tried to phrase her question better. "But would it make me do something I wouldn't normally do?"

"Some people feel a certain way after they get a tattoo. They feel bolder and in control of their body. Perhaps this is what you're speaking of?" he asked Hermione.

"I... don't know. I can't imagine that being the case. Maybe I had a reaction to something in the colors," she said but the wizard was shaking his head.

"I use only the purest ingredients. None of that crazy illegal ground up tooth of a dragon mixed with the blood of a unicorn that some of the younger artists use now," he answered, pulling a bottle from his shelf to show her. Sure enough, there was nothing in it that she had not come into contact with before. But there had to be some explanation beyond what he was offering her. Didn't there?

"I don't understand," Hermione said, pinching the bridge of her nose and wishing this headache would go away. Nothing she had taken was helping, not after she stirred up all those memories.

"My tattoos will not make the bearer do anything they didn't want to do in the first place," he told her bluntly, staring hard at her. She could feel his blue eyes go through her, as if he wanted her to understand exactly what he was saying. And she did.

But was it possible? Was getting this tattoo really enough to give her the nerve to tumble into bed with Harry?

It must have been because she now wished she was there again.

*************

"Hello," Harry said when he finally opened the door. He looked as if he had still been in bed, with no shirt on and his hair tousled more than usual. All he was wearing was a pair of faded jeans and they weren't even buttoned. Hermione did her best not to stare at his abdomen and the thin line of hair that led... she shook her head. If anyone should have a Snitch fluttering about on their stomach, it should be Harry, not her.

"Hi," she said, fighting the urge to blush now that she was face to face with him again. He stepped back and let her into his flat and Hermione could no longer quite remember what she had planned to say or do. All she could do was follow Harry down the narrow hallway to the parlor. His Quidditch robes were strewn about the room, probably right where he left them last night. She picked them up, her fingers brushing against the smooth red fabric and she wished she could remember...

No sense in trying. After the potion wore off, very little came back to her.

"Did you get your work done?" Harry asked, taking the robes from Hermione and tossing them over the back of the chair.

"Yes," Hermione lied. "I did follow up on one rather important issue."

"Good," Harry said, sitting down in the armchair he had just thrown his robes over. Hermione nervously sat down on the couch and couldn't figure out what to do with her hands at the moment.

"Yes, it was something that had to be finished before Monday. I didn't plan to take so much time off on Friday and now I'm behind," Hermione said even though she knew Harry wasn't listening. He was staring at her but he wasn't listening. Probably because she wasn't saying what he wanted to hear. "Harry, I'm sorry about this morning. It was... it was a surprise to wake up with you and even more of a surprise not to remember how I got there."

"I'm sorry that finding yourself in my bed was so terrible that you had to run off," Harry said, sounding very much like the little boy who no one loved and not the world famous wizard loved by many. Hermione looked down at her hands folded on her lap and took a deep breath. The problem was, she had hurt him and she knew it. She was one of the few people who loved him for who he really was and now she went and did this.

"It's not that, Harry. The idea of being in your bed... you can't even begin to imagine how many times I've thought about it," Hermione said and the normally cocky looking (at least to the rest of the world) Harry Potter now looked confused.

"Then why did you run off?" Harry asked.

"I have spent a good portion of today asking myself that. And trying to figure out how I could lose control and end up here and not remember it. I tried to blame most everything else except for what I should have blamed," Hermione said.

"Me?"

"No, not you! Me! I wanted to be here. I wanted to be with you. For some reason, I let down all my defenses last night and it happened. The drink started it and perhaps some of it had to do with the tattoo. What upsets me is I can't remember this thing I wanted and now I've gone an made a complete fool of myself and I might never have another chance when I would be able to remember it," Hermione said, the words falling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

He didn't stop staring at her, his eyes dark and hidden behind his glasses, but he didn't say anything either. Hermione grew more uncomfortable and thought that she should just Apparate out of here and to the relative comfort of her own flat. There she could pretend that none of this ever happened.

Except for the tattoo. How was she going to pretend that never happened? There would always be something to remind her of this night and she couldn't hide from it.

"Since neither of us remembers it, it must have been really bad," Harry said, smiling and trying to lighten the mood.

"Don't blame me for that. I'm not bad in bed," Hermione said and Harry nodded. "It must have been you. If you were as exciting as you pretend to be, surely I would have remembered every minute of it."

"We could try it again? Maybe we'll get it right the second time?" Harry said, nervously rubbing his palms over his jeans.

"Judging from the way I felt when I first moved this morning, we did try it more than once," Hermione said, blushing. Harry blushed, too.

"I promise that the next time you won't forget it," he said, laying his hand over his heart. "It doesn't have to happen today but someday..."

"Someday would be nice," Hermione said, watching Harry's expression fall as quickly as his hand dropped to his lap. She smiled. "Or even today. I mean, since we've gone this far already, why not?"

He stood up with a quickness he normally saved for when he was chasing the Snitch and before she could figure out what was happening, he was before her, hand outstretched. She took it and he pulled her into his arms, his mouth coming down upon hers in an instant.

Her heart was pounding as his tongue parted her lips and from the back of her throat there escaped a soft moan. Her hands explored his body, feeling the muscles move in his back as his hands held her in place. Was he afraid she was going to escape again? Why would she want to run from this?

Now her hands moved to his stomach, feeling his abs flutter under her touch and he stopped kissing her. Instead, he looked down, watching as she tugged down the zipper of his jeans, stopping her before she got it all the way down.

"I'd like to see it again... the tattoo. Like you, I don't remember much from last night and I hardly saw it this morning," Harry said, running a finger down her shirt until he got to the top of her jeans. He slipped his finger inside of them, between the waistband and the soft fabric of her shirt.

"You saw plenty this morning," Hermione said, closing her eyes as he untucked her shirt and then started unbuttoning it, his fingers moving quickly from the bottom to the top.

"I want to see it... and you again," he said, opening her shirt. He then unfastened her jeans and lowered the zipper before stepping back. Hermione held onto her jeans so they didn't slip down her hips as Harry's eyes darted over her body and stopped at the tattoo. He dropped to his knees to examine it more closely and a shiver ran up her spine as his fingers lightly brushed against the shimmering Snitch. "It's very nice. Shocking, but nice."

"Shocking?" Hermione asked.

"I just would never expect you of all people to get drunk, get a tattoo and..." he stopped talking.

"And then end up in bed with my best friend?"

"I didn't expect that, either. I've hoped for it for a few years now but never expected it," Harry said, sitting back on his heels, looking up at her and meeting her eyes and not her belly.

"You hoped for it?" Hermione asked, sounding rather suspicious.

"You don't know how beautiful you are, do you? Or maybe you do but you thought I'd never notice?" he asked, reaching out and drawing her to him. He pulled off his glasses and this time it wasn't his fingers touching the tattoo but his mouth. His lips brushed over it and then his tongue and Hermione nearly melted right then and there. He kept it up so long that she had to hold on to him, his tongue darting against the Snitch and then darting down to where her knickers met her skin.

"We've been friends for so long... what was there to notice?" Hermione asked, hating herself for doing so once he pulled away and broke contact with her bare skin.

"What is there not to notice?" he asked and the look in his eyes was enough to make it hard for Hermione to catch her breath.

"Do you remember any of it?" Hermione asked and Harry shook his head. "You'd tell me if you did?"

"I would but I really don't remember. Maybe we should just pretend this is the first time?" Harry asked and Hermione agreed, reaching for his hands and pulling him to his feet. He swept her up into his arms, both of them laughing now, and stumbled in the direction of his bedroom. Harry kicked the door shut as soon as they were inside and set Hermione down.

He helped her remove her clothing, slipping her shirt off and letting it fall to the floor. Hermione's head was spinning now in this darkened room that smelled of Harry (and a little of her) and she grew positively lightheaded when he buried his face in the crook of her neck. As he kissed her there, he placed a hand on one of her breasts, his fingers playing with the sheer fabric of her bra where it met her skin. Hermione knew she was going to have more marks from his mouth in the morning but she didn't care.

Making it to the bed without injuring themselves, they crawled up it, each of them still wearing their jeans... but not for long. Hermione was now down to her undergarments and Harry had on nothing and she kept sneaking peeks at his body while he helped her shed her bra. Her knickers were next and now there was nothing between them.

Starting with her neck again, his mouth skimmed over her body and down but this time he didn't stop at the tattoo, as if it no longer fascinated him as much as it did a few minutes ago. No, instead he moved his mouth lower, finding something new to hold his attention. Hermione gasped as his tongue flicked out hot and fast against her clit and she was sure that if this had happened before, she'd remember it.

Her toes curled up as he licked her everywhere, his tongue darting into her body. It's then that she felt it... an odd tingling sensation where the tattoo was. The more aroused Hermione became, the more it tingled. She propped herself up on her elbows to watch what was going on and discovered that it was shimmering more than ever. Harry stopped what he was doing and looked at it now, too.

"Wow. You'd think we'd remember that," he said, his fingers now replacing where his mouth had just been. Hermione fell back hard against the pillow.

"Just wonderful. Is it going to do that every time I'm aroused?" Hermione asked, sounding rather embarrassed.

"You should have tried being a teenager and having something... show... every time you were aroused," Harry said with a sigh.

"Really? I never noticed," Hermione said.

"Robes are a wonderful thing," Harry remarked before placing a kiss on the Snitch. It grew even warmer when his lips lingered there.

"Maybe it's only temporary. Perhaps it only does this when it's new," Hermione said with a sigh of pleasure. She must have really been drunk last night because the tingling and the warmth was growing and she couldn't imagine how she could have forgotten it. Or maybe... she wasn't this aroused when they did this the first time? Was that possible?

"Maybe..." Harry said, moving his mouth back down between her thighs. Her body was positively humming and she couldn't believe how comfortable she was with Harry doing this to her -- even if they might have done this already. There was no bloody way she could have forgotten this!

It all was going to fast, turning into a blur she couldn't quite hold on to, and she wanted it to slow down. Last night could remain a blur (if it could even be considered that much) but this was a moment she wanted to keep forever. Harry would bring her to the edge and then back away and she wasn't sure how much longer she could last.

His fingers and his mouth and the hot tingle of the Snitch tattoo all got to be too much and she cried out as she came. She reached for Harry but he didn't stop what he was doing and wave after wave of sweet pleasure raced through her body. Before it could pass, he climbed up the bed, his body fitting perfectly against hers as he eased himself in.

He moved to his knees, pushing her legs to her chest as he thrust his hips fast and hard. No wonder her body hurt so much this morning... Harry liked it a little rough. It wasn't enough to hurt but he wasn't slow either. Or maybe he simply needed her that badly.

Her head was still spinning and she couldn't believe this was happening -- or happening again. It was one thing to be doing this when they were both incoherent but now the consequences, whatever they might be, were not lost upon either of them. There was no turning back from this... not this time.

She felt his body tense up and somehow she was coming again from just the thought and feeling of him inside of her and everything around her turned a hot white before slowly fading back into a hazy darkness. Harry fell onto her, their bodies damp with sweat, and she wanted this moment to never end.

Hermione closed her eyes tight, committing everything that had just happened to memory this time. Of course, not having the memory erasing Firewhisky and other assorted drinks beforehand might help her remember all the details better than she did the first time.

Harry rolled onto his side, pulling Hermione into his embrace. She couldn't help but to kiss him, starting with his neck and working up to his jaw and over to his mouth.

"I'm glad England won," Hermione whispered against his lips. "If you had lost..."

"You and I would have gone out to drink away our despair and we would have ended up in the same place. I'm sure of it," Harry said.

"How can you be so sure?" she asked, propping herself up to look into his eyes. She played with his hair, trying to get it to go back into place, but it was hopeless now.

"Because no matter how it happened, this was meant to be," he said and she had to swallow hard to get the lump out of her throat.

"You know what you need now?" Hermione asked. Harry looked at her dumbfounded, shaking his head.

"What more could I possibly need?" he asked.

Hermione answered him with only a wide grin.

**************

She watched as the old wizard carefully guided his wand over Harry's skin, inlaying the pattern carefully. He let her pick where to put the tattoo and she decided that the angular and decidedly male place on his hip was where it should go. It was one of her favorite spots on his body to touch and this way she'd have another reason to do so.

It was a Snitch like hers, only a little smaller, and the artist appeared to be very pleased with the fact that he had the chance to be doing this to the Harry Potter.

Hermione leaned over and examined the work, amused by the slightly pained look on his face. Now she was glad she didn't remember it even though when she took that potion, she recalled it being somewhat pleasurable.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked.

"Bloody hell! It stings!," Harry said and the wizard apologized profusely. Hermione leaned over and gave Harry a deep, lasting kiss, trying to take his mind off of what what happening.

"Better?" Hermione asked, Harry's eyes now aglow with desire.

"Yes. A lot better," he said as they both looked down at the tattoo the wizard had just finished.

It was sparkling brightly against Harry's pale skin and Hermione reached out to gently touch it with her soothing fingers. The wizard smiled knowingly and excused himself, telling them they could pay when they were ready.

"Perfect," she said, feeling it's warmth under her touch. Then she laughed. "We've been together for only a few hours and already we have matching tattoos."

"We've been together for years, Hermione," Harry said and she sighed at the thought. "We've been together for years and it's about time we've had matching tattoos."

"What about Ron?"

Harry had to think about that one for a while. "Maybe we'll let Ron in on all of this later. Today, I just want to get home and see what's happen when our matching tattoos get together."

Hermione smiled, then went to check to make sure that the wizard wasn't going to come back anytime soon. She peeked through the curtain to find him happily chatting with a uncertain looking witch, showing her samples of his work. Returning to Harry, she took his hand in hers, holding it tight.

"Who says we have to wait to get home?"

The End


*************

End notes: Thanks for reading! Now I must work on Infernal Plan. So sorry for the slowness of the updates on that story. It's been slow going getting it to where I want it. Thanks to all who still ask about it. It has not been forgotten.