Harry Potter and the Infernal Plan Part II
by Jori
REVISED July 2003
e-mail: Jori@netroenterprises.com
Set during and after their sixth year at Hogwarts, Hermione asks something of Harry that will change their lives forever.
NC-17
Spoilers for all five books. Most of this was originally written well before Order of the Phoenix came out but I decided to go back and do some edits. Some were very necessary while others were more cosmetic.
H/Hr story
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
***********
For the first time in ages, Harry Potter was going to be late to a Quidditch match. Or maybe it was the first time
ever. He couldn't remember ever being late before to something as important as Quidditch. He was on his way out of
the castle when Hermione caught up to him in the common room and said she'd walk out with him but she had to find
something in her dormitory first. He nearly told her no but she gave him this look -- one that made him glad that he
already had his Quidditch robes on -- and at that point he would have followed her anywhere. Now he was beginning to
regret being so easily enticed by the thought of spending a few minutes alone with his girlfriend, who was the first
witch in ages who managed to get her boyfriend up to her room without the stairs turning into a slide. He was never so
pleased (and a little disturbed) with her cleverness as when she showed him that she figured out how to charm the
stairs into believing that he was also a girl.
"Hermione, I need to go. I should have been out there already . . . I'm team captain and it won't look good if I'm the last one there," Harry pleaded, watching as Hermione flitted quickly around her dormitory room looking for something. She really was looking for something. He had been hoping it was a ploy to get him up here for a couple of quick good luck kisses before he had to run off to the match but he was wrong.
"I promise that you won't be late," she said, stopping to dig through her trunk one more time. "Besides, can they even start the match without you?"
"I don't want to find out," Harry said, turning away from her as she began to throw personal items from her trunk out upon the bed. He nervously shifted his Firebolt from one hand to the other and looked at his watch once more.
If he wasn't going to be late, he certainly was going to be cutting it close. Sure, there was a whole hour before the match actually began but ever since he was made captain, he liked to be there early enough to go through strategy with his team members.
"This might be it . . . damn. No, it's not," Hermione said, giving her trunk a kick. The lid slammed shut and Harry turned to her.
"What could be so important?" he asked.
"You'll see," she sort of mumbled and Harry decided to look at the items Hermione had on her bedside table. He was hardly ever in her room and she hadn't been back in his room since . . . before Christmas. The thought of the last time she was in his room brought a warm flush to his cheeks and he turned a little so she wouldn't notice. In doing so, he spotted some drawings he had never seen before and he picked one up. It was then that he realized why he had never seen them before -- it was signed by Drew in a big, fancy scrawl. While she was still distracted, Harry picked up another one and looked it over.
This one had the same girlish (in Harry's opinion) signature on it but instead of it being a still life, the subject was Hermione. She was in some room he had never seen before reading a book and he hated to admit it, but the sketch was incredible. A tiny pang of jealousy stirred around inside of him and he had to remind himself that Hermione chose him, not Drew.
"I found it!" Hermione exclaimed, turning to find Harry with the artwork in his hands. He gave her a quizzical look and she shrugged her shoulders. "Oh. Those."
"They are rather good," Harry said, putting them back where he found them.
"Are you jealous of him?" she asked, coming to his side.
"I don't know," he answered honestly.
"I wouldn't be if I were you. Oh blast. I'm running out," Hermione said, setting the bottle she was searching for down on her bedside table. It was an unlabeled plain brown bottle filled with some sort of liquid. She reached for a glass and poured out a tiny bit of the bottle's contents, checking her measurements carefully before swallowing it.
"What . . . what is that?" Harry asked as Hermione grimaced at the taste.
"That, Harry, is for later after you win the match," she said, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.
"I don't understand."
"I have something planned for you but I have to take this potion first so nothing . . . unplanned . . . happens. One dose along with certain charms is supposed to be effective for a month or two but I don't want to experiment with that theory right now. This is why you shouldn't be jealous of a few old drawings. It's you I want to be with. Just you," she said, taking his free hand and turning him towards her. Her other hand ran up the front of his scarlet Quidditch robe and her eyes danced over his face. "Do you even know how good you look wearing this? It's a shame you're late . . ."
"Yeah . . . late," he managed to mumble.
She pulled his head down and met his lips with hers. Her tongue quickly swept into his mouth and he nearly dropped his Firebolt. Could they start the match without him? If it meant he could be with Hermione, it was almost worth finding out. Almost. But she did promise him that they would be together later and if that wasn't incentive for catching that damn Snitch fast, he didn't know what was.
Hermione pulled away, her eyes twinkling. Harry closed his eyes, trying to make his body understand that it was just going to have wait for a while.
"We better go," she said and he looked at her again.
"What are the plans for later?" he asked, hoping to have a little something to hold onto, but instead of answering, she smiled and turned to leave the room.
*************
They really needed to find better beaters for the Gryffindor house team.
Harry had only two thoughts in his head as a Bludger knocked him from his broom and finding new beaters was the first of those thoughts. Since Fred and George left Hogwarts, he was getting hit far too often by these bloody things. They had just added another new chaser this year and she was great but as for beaters . . . they were sadly deficient in that area.
The second thought was that if he broke anything at all, it would most certainly ruin all of Hermione's plans for that night.
He could feel her eyes focused on him as his body traveled towards the ground and he was quite certain of her expression. Shock. Dismay. Disappointment. It wasn't the first time she had seen him take a tumble off his broom though falling to his death would certainly be a new thing for both of them.
The ground finally caught up with him and he hit it with the normal thud one makes when they fall off a broomstick from a great height. Everything started to swirl around him and the pain from his left leg was unlike anything he had ever experienced since the last time he broke something. Yet, through the blackness that was threatening to engulf him and the intense stabbing pain that now seemed to be coming from everywhere, he could hear Hermione calling his name. Even over the screaming crowd, hers was the only voice he could hear clearly.
Then he had a third and final thought. While he could still move, Harry held up his hand with the Golden Snitch fluttering in his grasp and the crowd started shouting louder. Gryffindor had won over Hufflepuff and instead of enjoying the victory celebration Hermione had promised, he was going to be in the hospital wing.
"Oh, balls," he muttered in exasperation before everything around him faded slowly to black.
**********
"Come on, we're going to miss the celebration."
"I want to stay here."
The words worked slowly through his head, as if someone was talking to him from under a deep pool of water. It was Ron's voice. And Hermione's. That much he was sure of even if he couldn't open his eyes. He focused and soon the water began to drain away and he could hear them a little more clearly, as if his ears were only under the water in a small bathtub.
"You heard what Madam Pomfrey said -- he won't be awake until tomorrow at the earliest. Quite a nasty fall he took and all," Ron said and in his mind, Harry could picture the fall over and over again, but from different angles as if he weren't the one falling from the sky. It was a rather odd sensation.
"I'm staying."
"We can come back after everything has quieted down for the night. Madam Pomfrey said we could . . ."
"I. Am. Staying," she said more insistently this time and Harry smiled. Actually, the image of him in his head falling to the ground smiled since he couldn't. He didn't blame Ron for wanting to go to the party, since he had blocked so many goals this game, but he was glad that Hermione wanted to stay with him even if he couldn't tell her so.
"Have it your way then. It's not like he hasn't been here before and survived without someone standing vigil at his bedside," Ron said.
"Go have fun, Ron. I'm staying with Harry," Hermione said. Harry felt a light touch run down his arm and he struggled to reach for it.
"Someone who didn't know better would think you have a crush on . . ."
"Oh, Ron! This is Harry we're talking about. Just go to the party," Hermione said and Harry heard Ron shuffle away quickly. She took Harry's hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. It took all his concentration, but he somehow managed to squeeze back.
"So, you are in there, are you?" He squeezed again, unable to speak just yet. He was getting so very tired, though, and didn't know how long he'd be able to keep himself this aware. "We're going to have to tell him soon."
A light squeeze this time.
"I was so worried that this time you were dead," Hermione said with a sigh. He felt the hand that wasn't holding his travel over his body slowly. "I really had some wonderful things planned. You do realize you ruined all of my plans, don't you?"
Another squeeze. A stronger, longer one, trying to reassure her that, since he wasn't dead, whatever she had planned could be rescheduled for a night where he could actually open his eyes.
"That's okay. I'm just glad you're alive and you didn't break anything too important," she said. He felt a kiss on his cheek, warm and soft, and with that, he drifted off again.
**********
When he could finally open his eyes, Harry had no idea exactly how long he had been in hospital. All he was aware of was that Hermione had come and gone several different times and that when Ron was with, he sounded anxious to get her out of there and then sounded quite concerned when she wouldn't leave.
Harry pulled himself so he was sitting and reached for his glasses. It was late at night but it only took a few minutes until Madam Pomfrey came to check on him.
"One of these days, Mr. Potter," she said as she busied herself examining his leg.
"We won," Harry said as if that made up for whatever damage he did to his body.
"This time," Madam Pomfrey muttered. "Your leg has mended and you're free to go. Try to remember that it's important to hold onto the broomstick."
"I will," he said with a grin, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. The one was still sore but he was quite anxious to get out of here and back to the Gryffindor common room. There was a chance that Hermione was still awake, lost in her studies and he really wanted to see her.
Once he was dressed in the jeans and shirt someone had left for him, he rushed through the corridors and up the stairs until he got to the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Password?" she asked sleepily and Harry was quite relieved that it hadn't been changed since he ended up in the hospital wing.
Hermione was still up doing her homework at the long table, Crookshanks trying to make himself comfortable on her books. The cat lifted his head off his paws and gave Harry a sleepy meow, distracting Hermione from her studies. She looked up, giving him a wide, glowing smile that he couldn't help but to return.
Ron was also up, right at her side and he also smiled but not quite like hers. His was more of a lopsided grin, as if Harry was interrupting something of vast importance. "All right, Harry?" Ron asked.
"All right," he answered and Hermione tidied up her books to make room for him at the table, pushing Crookshanks aside. The cat swatted at her and then sauntered off to sleep in front of the fireplace.
"You have a lot of work to catch up on in potions. I think Snape added extra work just because you were out. Oh! Professor Binns assigned an essay and mine is four scrolls long already but I can help you on that. It's rather a simple topic . . ." Hermione said only to be interrupted by a soft 'hmpff' from Ron.
"Simple for you maybe," Ron said, looking down at the blank scroll before him. "And why won't you help me but you'll help him?"
"Oh, Ron, Harry's been unconscious for three days and he might need a little help with his homework," Hermione said and Ron muttered something and continued to stare at the scroll as if that would put words on it.
While Ron was distracted with his lack of an essay, Hermione smiled at Harry again and it sent a warmth fluttering all through his body before it settled somewhere just below his stomach. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and she blushed, looking down at the large book in front of her.
"Would you two like to be alone?" Ron asked in a rather curious tone that took the smile right off of Hermione's face.
"Why would we?" Harry and Hermione asked at the same time, both of them sounding rather guilty. Ron didn't seem to notice. He just shrugged and yawned rather loudly.
"So you can get started on your homework," he answered, patting his hand over his mouth to stifle the next yawn. "And because I'm tired. I haven't been sleeping for the last three days."
"Er - okay. See you in the morning," Harry said as Ron gathered his books together.
"Yes. See you at breakfast," Hermione said and Ron retreated towards the boys' dormitory.
"What was that about then?" Harry asked. Hermione gave him a puzzled look and shook her head. "Ron and you, working so closely."
"Don't tell me you're jealous of your best friend?" Hermione asked, smiling now.
"I know how that best friend feels about my other best friend. And I know that he doesn't know that I . . . that we are . . . you know," Harry said, blushing a little.
"Twice, Harry. We've 'you knowed' only twice. Besides, it's not the . . . oh, you know . . ."
"Shagging?" Harry offered up with a quick grin. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.
"It's not that part of it that's important. We're now dating, Harry. How do you think he's going to feel about that when he finds out?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, I'm sure Ron is going to find that other part equally important," Harry said and Hermione cocked her head to the side and studied him.
"Men," she was all she said after considering it all for a moment.
"Men! This was all your idea in case you've forgotten. 'I want to try it out with you, Harry. Aren't you curious, Harry?'" he said, doing a poor job of mocking Hermione's voice. She smiled again and shook her head.
"It was a wonderful idea at that," she said, pushing her books aside and standing up. She stood before Harry and put her hands out to him. "If I recall, you enjoyed yourself immensely."
Putting his hands in hers, he allowed her to pull him out of the chair. They stood there for a minute, rocking in the other's embrace. "But did you enjoy it? The second time that is?" Harry asked.
"It was better than the first time but still I think we need more practice," she said and Harry laughed. He looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was coming down the stairs at this late hour, especially Ron, and then pulled her over in front of the fire. For the second time that night, poor Crookshanks got chased from his spot as they tumbled down onto couch together.
"What were your plans for the other night?" Harry asked. Hermione was under him, her legs wrapped around his hips, her fingers brushing through his messy hair. When she pulled her hand away, he stroked the soft skin on her cheek and brushed his fingers across her lips.
"You're just going to have to wait and find out. I'm saving them for another night," Hermione said, kissing his fingertips before pulling his mouth down to hers. Her tongue parted his lips and soon they were wrapped up in a very passionate kiss.
She ground up against him, pulling away from the kiss and staring into his eyes. "Do you want to? Here?" he asked, desperate for her.
"We can't," she said, slipping her hand between them and reaching for the zipper on his jeans despite what she was saying.
"Why not? It's still safe, right? With the potion?"
"It's not that. Someone might catch us. Harry, oh, I want to . . . but we can't," she said as he strained to press against her hand. She pulled it away before he got the chance to.
"When can we?" he said, slightly breathless now. They kissed again, her legs wrapping tighter around him as he moved against her. Even through all their clothing, it still felt good. It just wasn't enough.
Pulling away, she place her hand on his cheek. "I'll start working on new plans as soon as possible. I promise it won't be long. I don't want to wait, either," Hermione said.
It was then that someone gasped behind them rather loudly.
They both sat up quickly. Lavender Brown was staring at them, a stack of books tucked in one arm, her other hand over her mouth. Hermione quickly went about getting her clothes in back in order and Harry straightened out his glasses that were now teetering on the edge of his nose.
"I . . . I . . . I couldn't sleep and I was going to catch up on some reading and I didn't . . . wow," Lavender somehow stammered through the grin on her face. "I suspected something might be going on with you two. I suppose we all did over the years but . . ."
"Years?" Harry said, looking at Hermione. Lavender kept on going.
". . . I always suspected it was Ron you liked, not Harry, or at least that Ron liked you. But then there was that boy you met at home and I didn't even think about it anymore. This is going to take everyone by surprise. I'm not surprised but . . ."
"You certainly look surprised," Hermione said and Lavender finally stopped talking.
"Lavender, please don't tell anyone about this. We only started . . ." Harry began to say but he didn't exactly know what to say they started.
"Making out in the common room?" Lavender supplied for him.
"What Harry is trying to say is he's only been my boyfriend since after the Christmas holidays. This hasn't been going on for years," Hermione said, sounding rather astonished that anyone would think so.
"Ron doesn't know yet. It would be better if he found out from one of us," Harry said and Lavender, who was still grinning, nodded her head.
"You also better tell Ginny," Lavender said.
Harry rolled his eyes at the thought of telling all the Weasleys the news. "We will."
"I won't say a word about this but I would suggest that until you do tell him, you don't do whatever it was you were doing in such a public place. Anyone could have walked in here," Lavender said, shuffling her books to the other arm. Instead of staying to read, she turned back towards the stairs to the dormitories and left them.
Harry sat back hard against the couch and crossed his arms over his chest. "She won't keep this a secret for long. Do you want to be the one to tell Ron?"
"That wasn't exactly part of my plans," Hermione said. Harry stopped himself from reminding her that none of this was *exactly* part of her plans.
"I guess I have to. It's not like he hasn't hated me before. I suppose sooner or later, he'll get over this, too," Harry said with a heavy sigh, turning to look at Hermione. He remembered too clearly what it was like when Ron wasn't speaking to him. He was lonely with only Hermione . . . would he be lonely in the same way this time? He wasn't sure but somehow he imagined it wouldn't be the same anymore.
"Maybe Ron will surprise you. Maybe he'll be happy for us," Hermione said with an outpouring of optimism.
"Yes, because I know if it was the other way around and you were . . . you know, with Ron, I'd be terribly happy for you," Harry said sarcastically, knowing full well just how miserable he'd feel inside if that was indeed the case.
************
Harry still hadn't figured out why he signed up for divination again this year. He didn't have to but since he found out about Professor Trelawney's prophesy last year, he had this strange desire to be here in this room with a woman who knew something about him before he was even born.
Or perhaps it was to remind her that he was still alive despite her years of predicting otherwise. Most days, he found great pleasure just sitting in her class and . . . breathing.
Today, on the other hand, he wished he could be breathing somewhere else. The air was more perfumed than usual and his eyelids kept fluttering shut. He couldn't imagine how he could be so tired after all those days of being in bed but he had to assume that it had something to do with staying up until sunrise talking to Hermione.
He had to focus on the task they were doing. It wasn't easy considering Lavender Brown kept giving him a silly look and fogging up his 'Inner Eye.'
"Mr. Potter, are you hiding something?" Professor Trelawney asked. She was so close to him that he jumped when he heard his name.
"Er . . . no more than usual," Harry said. His mind hurriedly tried to go over any object he might be hiding and all he could come up with was that book Hermione gave him after Christmas. That was hidden away in his trunk. Technically then, he was hiding something. That must be what Professor Trelawney could 'see' if she could see anything at all. But didn't most people hide at least one thing?
"Gazing into your ball, I would have to disagree. Yes, you are hiding something and unless you stop, I cannot say your future will be bright. Or perhaps you have a secret?" she asked and he was quickly growing frustrated. He cast a glance at Lavender. She hid her face but he could tell she was giggling.
"No, I have no secrets. My life is an open book. As a matter of fact, my life is in books but you know that," Harry said, hoping she would just go away. She didn't. Instead, she stared more intently at the crystal ball in front of him before she gasped.
"Oh . . . I'm afraid to tell you this . . ."
"I'm going to die before the end of the term. I know," Harry said, sitting back in his chair and shaking his head. If he had a million galleons for every time Professor Trelawney told him he would be dead by term's end and yet somehow managed to stay alive despite her, he'd be an extremely wealthy man. He'd spend some of that money getting her 'Inner Eye' examined, that's for sure.
Instead of responding to Harry's cheekiness, she moved over to gaze into Ron's ball. "I can see that you're going to be betrayed," she said, moving on without adding more.
Harry avoided eye contact with Ron for the rest of the class but he couldn't help feeling glad that she didn't tell Ron that he was going to be betrayed by someone who was hiding something. Was what they were doing actually betrayal? He didn't think so but it didn't matter what he thought. It was only going to matter what Ron thought.
As they made their way out of the North Tower and to their next class, Ron elbowed Harry, grinning. "So, what are you hiding, Harry? I hope it's chocolate -- or the fact that you did my essay for Binns last night instead of coming to bed," Ron said but Harry couldn't quite bring himself to smile.
"I'm not hiding anything," Harry said, pleading his case once again. Lavender pushed past him right then, still grinning. Harry shot her a dirty look and she whispered something to Parvati Patil. They both turned to look at him and then went back to whispering. This wasn't good, Harry thought as his face flushed scarlet.
"Oh, I know, Harry."
"Good."
"But you should really let me know what you're hiding before you die -- especially if it's valuable," Ron said with a grin.
"Right," Harry said, not finding any humor in this at all.
*************
Harry knew that Hermione had something big planned for Valentine's Day but he didn't know what. The night before, she spent a long time looking through a pile of spell books at one of the tables in the common room but she wouldn't let him near. He guessed it might be an enchanted card of some sort and all he hoped for was that it didn't sing upon opening it. At breakfast, Hedwig dropped several cards before him and before Ron could say anything, Harry tucked the one with Hermione's handwriting on the envelope away in his books to read later.
When he finally could read it, he realized why Hermione was smiling all through breakfast. It not only contained a Valentine greeting (complete with a charm to make little red hearts flare up above the card for a few seconds) but described her plans for that evening in detail. A warmth shot through is body just thinking about it and he barely had time to tuck the card away before Ron caught up with him in the corridor.
"Who sent you Valentines?" Ron asked and Harry shrugged. "Ginny again? I thought so."
Harry didn't correct him. He had received one from Ginny but that wasn't the one he hid. Ginny sent him one every year and most everyone knew it.
"Who'd you get a card from?" Harry asked, noticing several pink envelopes tucked in one of Ron's books.
"Oh, just my mom. And Hermione," Ron said with a sly grin as they continued to walk to their first class of the day.
"Hermione?" Harry asked. Hermione said she had to go to the library before class but she would catch up with them. He looked over his shoulder for her but she wasn't behind them. Why would she have sent a card to Ron?
"Yes, Hermione. Just because she stays up late helping you with your homework doesn't mean that - -"
"There you two are," Hermione said, coming around the corner and interrupting Ron. "We're going to be late for class if we don't hurry and I don't want to serve detention tonight."
"What are you doing tonight?" Ron asked, looking rather puzzled.
"Knowing Hermione, loads of homework," Harry said and she smiled at him, her eyes twinkling.
"Oh, yes. Loads," she said
"That's so very sad," Ron said, shaking his head as he started off towards the classroom before them.
Hermione took hold of Harry's arm as if she was pulling him towards their destination but he was hoping it was just so she could touch him. He certainly didn't mind the contact. Leaning close enough so that their heads were nearly touching, she whispered, "And I have plans to 'practice' something with a very good friend, too. That is, if that's okay with him. Is it?"
The sound of her voice made Harry's heart race. He was having one of those moments where he couldn't believe someone actually desired him like that and that she needed him as desperately as he needed her.
"That friend can't imagine anything else he'd rather be practicing," Harry said as she pulled her hand away from his arm, letting her fingers linger on the sleeve of his robe for just a second.
"Not even Quidditch?" she asked, tilting her head as she waited for his answer.
He pretended he had to think about it and she punched him lightly on the arm. He then remembered something that came to mind the first (and last) time they were together in his bed and he leaned even closer to her and said, "You're better than Quidditch. You're better than . . . everything."
She smiled brightly and he fought the urge to kiss her right then and there. It was then that Ron turned around and called for them to hurry up and they both quickly took a step away from each other. "Well, are you coming or what?" Ron called again.
"We'll be right there," Harry called back and Ron turned around and continued down the nearly empty corridor. Since no one was paying attention to them, Harry took hold of Hermione's arm, leading her down the hall. "Can I ask you one thing?"
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Why did you send Ron a Valentine?" he asked, trying not to sound like a possessive boyfriend but failing. "And who sent you those other cards?"
"Jealous, Harry?" Hermione asked, a hint of disapproval at his questions showing up in her voice.
"I . . . no."
He wouldn't let himself feel that way. It wasn't easy considering how they got started in the first place but she was with him now and nothing was going to change that. At least nothing he had power over.
"Good. I only sent him one because I thought it would look rather suspicious if you got one and he didn't. Trust me, Harry, I didn't write the same things in his that I wrote in yours," she answered.
"Good thinking," he said. "About sending him a card that is. Of course, you've always been the smart one."
"And you've always been . . ." Hermione started to say but before she could finish Ron called after them again and they had to race down the corridor to make it in time.
***********
With great pleasure, Harry couldn't help but notice that Hermione's fingers clutched the paper card he had made for her just like she used to do with the letters she received from Drew. It wasn't much of a card . . . just paper from a scroll folded into a small rectangle with a few words scribbled on it. The card he made didn't even do anything special like sing or burst into hearts but she still held onto it.
He followed his girlfriend down the deserted corridor, looking back often to make sure Mrs. Norris wasn't out spying on them though on a day like today, Harry assumed the cat had her work cut out for her. He should have grabbed his invisibility cloak before they headed out but his mind could only focus on being with Hermione.
Reaching their destination, Hermione took her wand out of her robe and unlocked the door. She pulled him into the room and locked the door behind them even though that was often pointless here at Hogwarts.
"I wanted to do something to the room but I didn't have time with all the homework that was due today," she said, sounding rather disappointed in herself.
With her wand, she made several small flames flicker to life out of nothing and they set the room aglow in shades of pink and yellow. It was just another empty room in the castle, dank and dusty from not being used in a while. Various statues lined the far wall and hanging crooked, one of the ugliest pieces of artwork Harry had ever seen. If it had a human subject, they were out visiting another painting now.
Harry stopped staring at the junk stored in the room and that's when he noticed that Hermione had at least supplied them with several blankets and a few pillows, all laid out neatly on the floor. She stepped in front of him and he reached out, brushing her hair to the side. He realized his hands were shaking as if they hadn't done this before. There was one thing that he hadn't managed to make her do yet and he spent part of the afternoon shut behind the curtains on his bed reading their book, determined that this would be the time. He wanted her to enjoy this as much as he did.
Now he just had to figure out how to go about doing that without looking like a blundering idiot.
Hermione shed her robe, dropping it on the stone floor and his eyes traveled over her body. She was wearing a skirt and although she didn't bother to take it off the last two times they did this, he wanted to see her with absolutely nothing on this time. Except maybe her kneesocks. It was rather drafty in here so maybe she could keep those on.
He stepped closer to her and, putting his hands around her waist, pulled her near. Their bodies pressed together and he began to slide his hands under her sweater, ready to tug it over her head.
"This time, can we take it slower?" she whispered and he swallowed hard, not sure how he was going to be able to honor her request. The first time he had no clue what was happening. The second time was all fumbling around in the dark because he still didn't know what was happening. This time he wanted it to be different but he ached for her.
"Okay," he said, pulling his hands out of her sweater and resting them on her hips. They stood there like that for a while, neither of them making a sound. She looked up at him, her body snuggled close, her eyes searching his.
"Harry?"
"Yes?"
"Not that much slower," she said and he smiled, relieved.
His hands went back under her sweater, tugging it up and over her head. Harry looked down at the curve of her breasts where her pale skin met the shiny satin of her bra and he had to touch it. His finger ran across the edge of the smooth fabric down to the center and back up the other side, feeling her tremble slightly under his gentle touch. He reached behind her and after a few failed attempts at the clasp, he finally managed to get her bra undone. She slipped it off, letting it fall to the floor.
After a drawn out moment of admiration, he looked up to find that Hermione was smiling at him.
"What?" he asked.
"You," she said, dropping his card and taking his hands in hers, their fingers twining together.
"What about me?"
"You, Harry Potter, like breasts," she said. A cold gust of air came from seemingly nowhere and she shivered. He pulled one hand free of hers and looked down again, brushing his fingertips against her nipples, feeling them harden even more under his touch.
"They are rather nice," he said, sinking down to his knees and resting the side of his face against her. He sighed as she ran her fingers through his hair, playing with the unruly strands that wouldn't lie flat.
"I think I love you," she said, her voice so soft he could barely hear her. "I know I've loved you for a long time as my best friend but now I think I love you more than I ever imagined it was possible to love someone."
Her words tugged at his heart, making it leap from his chest and beat so hard and so fast the sound of it had to be echoing around the castle room. She sunk to her knees before him and the look in her eyes told him that her words were true.
"I love you, too," he said, drawing her near, leading her into a kiss. There was this moment of fumbling around and of desperation, of hands pushing and pulling and bodies trying to get closer. Then once again, they were just Harry and Hermione, best friends and lovers who were never going to make it as far as the blankets on the other side of the room.
************
"Do you like that?" Harry asked, his fingers moving carefully between her thighs. She moaned her reply. The cold floor of the castle was beneath them and the only warmth came from where their bodies were in contact. He had her skirt pulled up and her knickers pushed down as he tried his best to figure out what she needed. "Tell me what you like."
"I like you. I like whatever you do," she said, grinding against his touch.
"Hermione, show me," he whispered and she put her hand over top of his, slowing him down just a bit. He watched her eyes, using her response and her touch as his guide.
"This -- I like this," she said, turning away from his stare. Was that embarrassment on her face? How could she be embarrassed in front of him? She didn't make a sound as he did this to her. It was the quietest Hermione had ever been in a very long time and he was glad he was the reason. She pulled her hand away, letting him do this himself, and he watched as her mouth dropped open slightly and a barely audible throaty moan escaped past her lips.
Was she close? How would he know? He hoped she would tell him but she was so lost in the sensations that he wasn't sure she'd be able to.
It was then that it happened. Her fingers searched the floor beside them, feeling for the long forgotten Valentine she had dropped earlier. She gripped the delicate paper, crinkling it a little as he watched wave after wave of pleasure move over her body.
"Did you?" he asked just to be sure, his fingers not giving up yet. She gasped and pushed his hand away.
"Yes," she answered, her fingers letting go of the paper and moving to his face. "Wow."
"I told you it would get better with time," he said, sounding so sure of himself now that he could see exactly what his touch could do to her.
"We aren't done yet," she said, her hands moving from his face and down his chest. Except for his robe, he was still completely dressed, not wanting to stop long enough earlier to do anything about it.
"No?" he asked, smiling at her.
"We're a long way from done," she said, sitting up next to him and kicking her knickers off the rest of the way. "But can I ask a favor?"
"What?"
"Can we move to the blankets? This floor is hard and my bum is freezing," she asked and he laughed.
"Sure," he said, standing up and offering her his hand. He tugged her up from the ground and once she was standing, she shed her skirt, leaving her nearly naked. Her skin was awash in the shades of the tiny flames that were still flickering all around them and he watched as she, more confident than ever, walked over to the blankets and gestured for him to come join her. He certainly wasn't going to say no at this point.
She yanked his shirt up and over his head and he watched as her hands unfastened his pants and eased them down over his hips. He was already hard from wanting her.
"If I have to be naked in this cold and drafty room, so do you," she said, tugging his boxers down a little too quickly.
"Gently, Hermione," he said, grabbing her hand as he flinched ever so slightly. He stepped out of his shorts and noticed that she was looking him over. He felt a blush creep up his neck and across his face and he looked away when her eyes finally moved up his body and met his.
"Interesting," Hermione said and he turned to back to find that she was studying him again, her eyes traveling all over his body. It was the first time they were like this, completely naked before each other. Leave it to Hermione to find him 'interesting' right at this moment.
"Interesting in what way?" he asked, letting go of her hand and crossing his arms over his chest.
"I just . . . I don't know. It's like I get this part of you no one else can have and there are times I can't believe this is happening. Someday when I'm old and living alone with my books and a lot of cats, I'll look back on all this and remember that I was Harry Potter's first," she said, sounding rather wistful.
"You make it sound like we won't be together," he said and her eyes met his again. Something in them had changed but he wasn't sure what. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, it was gone.
"I didn't plan on discussing any of that tonight," she said, going down to her knees and pulling him with.
"Your plans rarely work out as intended," Harry said, watching as she stretched out across the blanket and parted her legs, waiting for him.
"No, they don't. But I think what does happen is often better than what I actually planned for," she said as he crawled over to her, fitting himself perfectly between her knees and thighs. She reached between them and helped guide him in and he sighed in contentment as he sunk into her. Everything around them was growing colder but she was so warm. This was truly where he belonged.
She winced slightly as he pushed in further and he stopped moving. "Does it still hurt?" he asked.
"We don't do it often enough," she whispered, the feel of her wrapped around him filling his brain with so many sensations at once he could hardly focus on her words. Sliding her hands up his arms and then down over his shoulders, they came to rest on his backside, urging him on. "Move, Harry. Please move."
He did, thrusting into her slowly at first to make sure she was going to be okay. When she didn't say anything else but let out a soft, low moan he moved a little faster, enjoying this quite thoroughly. He couldn't take his eyes off of hers and when she smiled up at him he was certain his heart was going to melt. Just like her, he couldn't believe this was happening in his life. He still couldn't believe he could love someone like he did her and that she loved him back enough to lie under him and give him this. It amazed him to no end.
Hermione wrapped her legs higher around his waist and he couldn't think about anything but how good it felt. He couldn't imagine that it could get better than this but then she started thrusting back against him and rolling her hips ever so slightly and he knew he couldn't last that much longer.
She was right -- they needed to do this more often.
He felt her tighten all her muscles around him (where did she learn to do that?) and he came hard, his body jerking in uncontrollable spasms. She stopped moving under him and just watched and he became quite self-conscious. He was sure that he looked pretty stupid as he gasped for breath and struggled to gain some control. Collapsing on top of her, he tried to catch is breath as he felt her hands wander over his body again, moving to his face and his hair.
It was growing late and he knew they'd have to get back to the dormitory soon. Hermione had made up the story they'd tell anyone if they asked where they were. Harry hoped Lavender was already in bed and he wouldn't have to meet her knowing stare when they returned. He also hoped Ron was in bed so he wouldn't have to lie to his other best friend.
"I wish we could spend the night together," Hermione said as Harry slipped out of her body and rolled next to her. She grabbed another blanket so they could wrap up in it and he had to agree that it would be so easy to spend the night with her.
"Someday we will," he said, pulling her into his arms. "I don't know how or when, but we will."
The lights she created were starting to sputter out and before the final one lost its glow, Harry though he saw something move across the one painting hanging on the wall. Just what he needed was to get caught by some antiquated piece of art.
"Do we have to go just yet?" Hermione asked into the darkness, wrapping her legs around his. He could feel her warm kneesocks as she ran her foot down his leg and it made him smile. If she didn't want to go, he'd stay here with her for as long as they could get away with it. He'd stay with her forever even if it meant they'd both be expelled. Right now, he didn't care.
"No, we don't have to go yet," he said and Hermione sighed with contentment.
*************
"Oh!" a voice squealed with delight. "I see that ickle Harry Potter's not so ickle anymore!"
Harry opened his eyes and sat straight up to see Peeves circling above them, casting the only glow in the room. He was doing somersaults in the air and twisting elaborately around the old statues, stopping only when he was directly overhead. Hermione stirred, opened her eyes, and moaned.
"Damn," she said, pulling the blanket tighter around her and burying her face into the pillow.
"I'm going to tell everyone that Harry Potter's got himself a girlfriend and she's such a pretty maid," Peeves said, slowing down enough to poke his head between his legs. "He told her that he loved her and then Harry Potter got . . ."
"That's enough!" Harry said, standing up with one of the blankets wrapped around his waist. "Peeves, please don't tell anyone."
"You can't stop me!" Peeves said, circling towards the door. "Who should I tell first? Filch?"
"Peeves, could you please just this once not tell anyone about this," Harry pleaded although he knew it would do no good.
"Why shouldn't I?" Peeves asked, stopping before he went through the door, probably racing off to let Filch know where to look for them.
"Because . . ." Harry started but he had no idea what to tell the poltergeist.
"Oh, go on already, Peeves," Hermione said from beside him. "If you want to tell, go and do it. What are you waiting for?"
Harry looked down to see her sitting up, still wrapped in a blanket, giving Peeves a quite a serious glare. "Hermione, what are you saying? We'll get in trouble. You'll get in trouble and then there's your parents," Harry said.
"I don't care. Let the whole world know. I love you, Harry, and that's all that matters," she said, looking up at him. Harry turned to Peeves and he didn't look as happy as he did a few seconds ago. Hermione reached out and held his hand and that was all he needed. "Besides, who are they going to believe? You or him?"
"Go on then," Harry said to Peeves confidently, daring him to go out and tell everyone.
"I know what you're doing! It's going to be a race -- to see if I can tell Filch before you can make it to your rooms where you belong. I love a race!" Peeves said, looking them over. "On the count of three . . . one . . ."
He was gone before he even said two.
"Blast! What do we do now?" Harry said, pulling his clothes on in the darkness as fast as he could and tossing Hermione any of her garments when he found them. She found her wand and quickly provided them some light as she gathered the blankets together.
"What should I do with these?" she asked.
"I don't know! We don't have time. Shove them in that closet," Harry said, nodding towards the far wall. Tugging her skirt straight at the same time, Hermione dashed over to the closet and pulled the door open only to find Peeves staring at her, a huge grin on his face.
"Two . . ." he said slowly and she tossed the blankets through him, slamming the door.
Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her out the door, checking both ways down the corridor to make sure no one was coming already.
"Oh, wait!" Hermione said, turning back into the room. A second later she came out with the Valentine he made her clutched between her fingers. "I don't want to lose this."
"Three! Wheeeeee!" they heard echo from inside the room and with that, they ran towards the Gryffindor tower faster than they had ever run in their lives.
**************
To Be Continued . . .