You know, it's not that easy to write a PG-13 wedding night. LOL I tried very hard to create something that was tastefully written. Fortunately, I realize I can't and won't make everyone happy, so here it is, my latest offering. If I do a more detailed chapter it will be in a full revision of the story with darker elements all around. Thanks for the reviews and encouragement. It makes struggling through the more challenging chapters worthwhile. I truly appreciate every comment.
"So," Harry said as he led Hermione into the master bedroom.
"Yeah," she replied.
There was a very strained silence as they surveyed the newly refurbished bedroom. The walls were a light cream color. The furniture was of dark cherry wood. The large bed in the middle was covered with a soft comforter in a floral design of violets. The curtains, which were a deep green that complimented the green in the comforter, were drawn. The room was well-lit and all portraits had been removed, which Harry was grateful for. The last thing he needed was moving, talking pictures to make this any more uncomfortable.
"They fixed the place up a bit, didn't they?" Harry commented. He assumed Mrs. Weasley and the others must have been making improvements over the entire last school year since it looked so much less like a home of dark wizards now.
"Yeah," Hermione said.
"Well, it's just you and me and Crookshanks and Hedwig." Hermione's parents had brought their pets home today and Molly had locked the cat in the kitchen to keep him from traipsing over the wedding cake. Hedwig had come back from an early hunt about the time Dumbledore had left. She had brought in a dead rat which she dropped at his feet. Harry wondered if it was her idea of a wedding present.
"Yeah," she answered again.
"You all right?" Harry asked, turning to face her.
"Yeah."
"Are you sure? Please don't say yeah." Harry led her to the edge of the bed where they sat down.
"Really, I am. I guess I'm nervous."
"Me too," Harry admitted. "Have you ever noticed the surveillance cameras in Muggle stores?"
She nodded.
"I swear, it feels like we're being watched," he glanced around the room, to all the corners of the ceiling. "If I didn't know they wouldn't work here, I'd be looking for hidden cameras in the potted plants." That was how much pressure he felt he was under from Dumbledore. He was sure Hermione felt the same pressure.
Hermione laughed. "Then I guess we better put on a good show."
Harry was speechless at that. He had not expected her to say something like that and now he had the mental image of the Order of the Phoenix gathered around a TV set eating popcorn while waiting for them to "follow through on their assignment."
She giggled at the expression on his face. "Harry, no one is watching us. They all left so we could be comfortable." She was feeling more relaxed once she thought about it. It helped to know Harry was nervous too.
"It's not working," Harry shook his head. "Don't you feel kind of weird that everyone who was here tonight knows exactly what's going to happen? I mean, Ron said that I've got it backward and that I shouldn't be embarrassed. He knows a lot more about being a wizard than I do. I don't know why I'm so nervous. We've been sleeping in the same bed for weeks, aside from the last couple of nights, which is the only night I've had nightmares since you came to get me from the Dursleys. So this--"
"You had nightmares last night?" Hermione interrupted, concerned.
"Not Voldemort type nightmares," Harry said quickly, lest she be even more worried. "I've been doing my best to close off my mind to him."
"Then what?" she took his hand.
"It's stupid," Harry said, "Just stupid stuff, nothing to worry about." He told himself his nightmares were silly.
"Tell me anyway," she prodded.
"Being in the cupboard and not being able to get out. Vernon," he said softly. "Stupid really. I don't have to go back and they didn't even make me stay there after I started Hogwarts." So, why was he dreaming about being six years old and trapped in the closed dark space while Vernon told him what a useless, disgusting, freak of a burden he was.
"It's not stupid, Harry." She felt her instinct to defend him rise every time he called himself or his thoughts or fears stupid.
"You've married one really messed up in the head person, you know that, don't you?" He was sure that if a Muggle psychiatrist could get a hold of him, he would be in some padded cell.
"I love your messed up head," she smiled sweetly, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I think I understand," she told him, considering his dream. Harry had grown up with no physical affection and now he was being told to hop into bed with her. His years of isolation would naturally make it harder for him to deal with the physical aspect of their relationship. It was different for her as she had been smothered with hugs and kisses from her family her whole life and though there was nothing remotely sexual about that, at least hugs loving touches were not a rarity in her life.
"Let's dance like we did last night," she suggested. There was a Wizard's Wireless Network connector on the dresser, so she turned it on and found some soft romantic music, a feed of Muggle standards like she remembered hearing as a child when she wandered into her father's study at home.
Finding this to be an excellent idea, he got to his feet and took her into his arms. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"
"Yes, but you can tell me again," she answered, wrapping her arms around him. She was sure she would never tire of hearing him say that he thought she was beautiful since that was one thing she had never thought of herself. She would not even rate herself cute, much less beautiful.
They swayed together, Hermione was determined to make the pressures and expectations put on them disappear from their thoughts. The song echoed her purpose. Make the world go away. Get it off of my shoulder.*
Harry inhaled the scent of her hair, which was beginning to fall free since the veil had been taken off. As his lungs filled with that familiar smell, he relaxed.
She caressed his chin with her thumb and kissed him. In time the Rockies may crumble, Gibralter may tumble, they're only made of clay, but our love his here to stay. **
"I love you, Harry," she whispered softly in his ear.
"I love you too," he answered as his hands tangled themselves in her falling hair. He gently tugged the clips that were holding it up so that it cascaded loosely to her shoulders and slid his hands up and down her back as they continued to kiss.
Their eyes met. Hermione's were boring into him with an intensity he had never known. "I want you to touch me," she told him. All she knew was she wanted to give herself to him in every way a find a kind of love that neither had ever known. She wanted to hold and caress him and take away the feelings of isolation he had always harbored. He would never be alone again if she had any say in the matter. They moved as one to the bed, shedding their inhibitions with their anxieties. Nothing mattered but each other. The world outside ceased to exist as they became one.
It's the same old story, a fight for love and glory, a case of do or die. The world will always welcome lovers, as time goes by. ***
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Hermione snuggled closely to her husband. "That was..." she couldn't find the right words as it was unlike anything she had previously experienced.
"Yeah," said Harry, breathlessly, telling himself that he could not believe he had been apprehensive about taking this step. He was reminded of how he felt after his first Quidditch match, only this was a higher high. Hermione would not be happy to know I was thinking of Quidditch at this moment.
"What are you smiling about?" Hermione asked, propping on one elbow.
"The same thing you're smiling about," he answered, raising up to kiss her.
Hermione doubted Harry was smiling about the same thing as she had just remembered Ginny's comment about getting a wizard as powerful as Harry into bed. No, he did not need to know that since he would never again be able to look at his "little sister" if he knew she had thought such things about him. Fortunately for both Ginny and Harry (and probably Mr. and Mrs. Weasley), Rita Skeeter had left that comment out of her article.
"Harry," Hermione said a few minutes later, "Let's do it again."
"That's why you're the brains of the organization," Harry laughed.
After they had sealed their marriage vows once more, Hermione rested her head on Harry's shoulder, lying in the crook of his arm, while tracing her fingers over his chest as he played with her hair. "You seem to like my hair," she said absently.
"I love your hair," he told her.
"I've always hated it, but never cared enough to spend an hour a day to manage it."
"I gave up on mine years ago," Harry laughed. "Even Aunt Petunia gave up." With the mention of his aunt's name, Harry suddenly felt a coldness trickling through him. Thinking of Aunt Petunia inevitably led to thinking of Uncle Vernon. An image of being spanked with a hairbrush flitted through his mind as he told whoever (and he was not sure who it was) that he could not help his hair. He had really tried, but it wouldn't lay flat.
Hermione sensed the change in Harry's mood that came with saying his aunt's name. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he answered, forcing himself to focus on the present. It would only serve to weaken him if he kept letting things that had happened ten years or so prior get to him. He had not had this much trouble before and wondered why he kept having these thoughts and feelings associated with the Dursleys. He turned from staring at the ceiling to face his wife. "Thank you."
"For what?" she asked.
"Everything. It's because of you that I don't have to go back to the Dursleys. It's because of you that Voldemort can't use me in whatever blood ritual he has planned. You keep saving my life."
"Harry," she answered. "I--" she did not know what to say. He had opened up to her so much the past few weeks. It was a side to Harry she had hoped he would let her see; but, at best, she thought it would be a very slow process of getting him to open up to her. She felt blessed that he had been so forthcoming about his thoughts and feelings.
"It's true," he continued. "Dumbledore and the Order, they expect me to save the world, but it all goes back to you. If it wasn't for your knowledge and sacrifice and love, I couldn't do any of it. It's always been you, something you taught me, that got me where I needed to be and safely back."
"It's not a sacrifice on my part," she told him. "I want to be with you every step and I want to be married to you right now. I don't care that I'm fifteen and you're sixteen and a week, this is right. Hell, I might even send Voldemort a thank you card for spurring us into doing this and sign it Mrs. Harry Potter."
"You're amazing," Harry told her, a big grin spreading across his face. "Absolutely amazing."
"Mmmm," she cooed. "I think I'll leave that description for you."
*Make the World Go Away by Eddy Arnold
**Our Love is Here to Stay by George Gershwin
***As Time Goes By by Herman Humpfield (Casablanca)