A/N: Thanks for the reviews of the last chapter :) I appreciate it very much! Yep, Ben is Harry's son, isn't he? :)
danielerin: Thank you for your review :) Where are we going with all this? We're going to the resolution of Emerson's problems and their effects. I understand your confusion, and I assure you that everything will tie-in together by the end.
And as you'll discover in this chapter, of course Hermione knew something had upset Ben. She's already figured out why he did what he did, even as she doesn't know who he did what he did for. And remember, she's human. She was disappointed that her son got into a fight; no reason for her not to let him know that - even if she didn't have all the facts. She has flaws, alas :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter and thanks again!
So, y'all, here's a lighter chapter - complete with our favorite couple and some.. ah.. just read on...
Chapter Twelve - Let Me Count The Ways
Hermione sat down across from Harry and watched him enthusiastically wolf down his food. She knew he was ravenous,
having arrived home from Brussels more than an hour after dinner. And then their children hadn't given him a chance
to even think about eating. Every single one of them had loudly demanded his attention, although Ben had been
noticeably much more subdued than usual and Hermione frowned as she recalled why that was so.
He had given her the same answer every time she'd asked him why he'd done what he had. That he wanted to tell her but he couldn't. That it would embarrass someone, and somehow, she knew that that was more information than he'd given anyone else.
At least she could take comfort in the fact that he hadn't done it out of maliciousness and really, if anybody deserved to be beaten up, it was Paddy McPherson. Not that she would ever voice that opinion to anybody save Harry, of course. But most of the parents knew about Paddy and how mean he was. Why he hadn't yet been expelled was probably only because none of the children he beat up dared to stick to their stories.
Still, she couldn't help but be worried. It was not like Ben to get into fights. She knew that his schoolmates in general seemed to gravitate towards him, not something he asked for or necessarily liked, but that was just the way it was. He was a born leader, just like Harry. He was a good student but Woodlands had rules: if it happened again, they would have no choice but to suspend him. And if after suspension, it happened yet again... it was so unfair. Paddy McPherson should've been expelled ages ago, and yet her son got into trouble once and now had a bigger strike against him than Paddy'd ever had.
Hermione sighed and turned her attention back to her husband, whose cheeks were bulging. "You can slow down, you know. There's plenty more left."
"What's that?" he asked distractedly, before shoving a huge forkful into his mouth.
She laughed. "Nothing."
She gave up trying to have a conversation with him while he was still eating. Besides, she was content to watch him, the way he closed his eyes to savor a mouthful. The way the hair fell across his forehead, obscuring the scar which was either the bane or blessing of his life, depending on how one chose to look at it. His lips that she longed to kiss, his hands that her body ached for him to use on her. Three days he'd been gone, but she'd missed him so much it had felt like an eternity. How was it possible to love someone so much and in so many ways?
Finally, he put down his empty glass and leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh. "Blimey, that was good," he murmured, sending his plate to the kitchen sink with a twitch of his wand. "So what was that you said?"
Hermione hid a smile, suddenly wanting to play. "When?"
"Er, just now," he said, his brow furrowed.
"Oh, I was just saying how I was thinking of getting in touch with Viktor again," she replied airily, getting up to take his glass to the kitchen.
Harry had been in the act of standing too but at her words, he froze. He seemed to be trying not to scowl. "Krum? Why?"
She shrugged. "Just wanted to know how he's doing. I've been feeling up to writing another of those 'novels' to him, as Ron used to call them."
She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he approached her, fighting the smile that was threatening to give her away. Just as she was about to laughingly tell him that she was just joking, he suddenly grabbed her hands and pinned them behind her.
"Were you, now?" he asked and she could hear the friskiness in his voice. "That's all good and well, but how on earth will you manage to write if you're unable to stop laughing?"
And then he was tickling her everywhere and she was laughing so hard, she could barely breathe. Her eyes were watering, her sides were aching and she was sure the kids upstairs were sitting up in their beds, wondering if their mum had gone barmy.
"Harry! Harry- stop-" she gasped, trying to twist away from him. "I was- kidding- Harry!"
Finally, he stopped and held her close, laughing with her. "You're mine. Let Krum find his own bloody woman." His expression slowly turned serious as they gazed at each other. "I missed you."
"I missed you too," she whispered, her love for him practically seeping from her every pore as she stared into his eyes.
Harry stroked her cheek gently before he lowered his lips to hers and she met him eagerly. They kissed softly and sweetly at first, before his tongue slipped inside her mouth and with that first taste of him, Hermione's senses reeled. Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair as he pulled her closer, his mouth moving harder on hers, his tongue caressing hers, their breaths mingling. They broke apart, gasping before he was planting little kisses all over her face and she was trying to do the same for him, her hands gripping his shirt.
He kissed her again leisurely and she suddenly wondered why they'd stopped doing this. Sure, they kissed often and with much enjoyment, but it was usually the precursor to greater things. They'd stopped snogging just for the heck of snogging and they needed to start that up again. Beginning now, and the passions swirled through her being as she kissed him back with everything she was.
When breathing became absolutely critical, they broke the kiss and she laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. They held each other for a long moment before he pulled away.
"Oh, before I forget, somebody requested that I be extra nice to you," he said seriously, even as his emerald eyes twinkled.
She cocked her head. "Who?"
"Luke," he replied softly. "Apparently, Mummy was really sad that I was gone and he thinks that Mummy will feel better if I gave her a big hug. Because getting a big hug always makes him feel better."
Feeling tears welling up, she nodded. "I missed you so much. And Luke- I guess he picked up on it and he reminded me that you would be back really soon."
Harry pulled her to him again and held her tight for a long moment, while Hermione took deep breaths and reminded herself to give Luke a big kiss and a favorite biscuit the next day. He really was a wonderful child. Not unlike-
She sighed deeply. "By the way, your son got into a fight at school today."
"Really? Which one?" he asked, sounding as if he already knew the answer.
"Ben."
Just as she'd anticipated, Harry pulled away to look into her eyes. Because that definitely hadn't been the answer he was expecting. Ben did not get into fights - Luke was their occasional squabbler. "You're joking."
"I'm not. And from what I hear, he really kicked some tail too, to put it crudely," she replied, moving to sit down again.
He looked flummoxed for a few seconds before he grinned. "But of course. A son of mine would only come out on top."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's not the point. Why would Ben be getting into a fight in the first place?"
"Didn't he tell you why?" he asked, sitting down across from her.
"He wouldn't tell me and he refused to tell Miss McDonald too. I think he was trying to defend somebody, though, because he kept saying that he couldn't tell me because it would embarrass someone."
Harry stared at her for a full minute. "What a great kid," he said finally, sounding awed.
She nodded. "I know. Going to somebody's defense. But I don't want him to think that this is the only option he has for solving conflicts. He's much too smart for that. And you know Woodlands' rules - if it happens again, he'll be suspended."
Her worry must have shown more strongly than she'd intended because he held out his arms. "Come here."
She went to him and sat on his lap, breathing him in. He smelled so good, like the outdoors, fresh air and green grass, intermingled with that unique scent that was pure Harry.
He rubbed her back slowly. "He's a good kid. He'll be fine. Want me to talk to him?"
She shook her head. "I already did and since I'm sure he did it for a good cause, you know, as opposed to-"
"-being frustrated and taking it out on somebody."
"Yeah. I don't want to ream him out too much. He was very contrite when I spoke to him and besides, it would devastate him to have you be disappointed in him." She turned to look into his eyes. "He worships you, you know?"
He nodded, looking worried. "I know. And that scares me because it'll be quite a long way to crash from when he discovers that I'm not all that great."
"Who's been telling you you're not that great?" she asked sharply, her hackles rising.
"Hmm.. let's see. There's Oliver Wood," he said, with a mock pout. "And some of the players. Then there's those blokes in Brussels. They weren't that impressed with our offer." He batted his eyelashes at her. "They hurt my feelings. You going to take care of them for me?"
Suppressing a giggle, she punched him lightly in the arm as she shifted around on his lap, trying to get comfortable. "Fight your own battles, Potter. You're a big boy."
Harry laughed but it died away as she kept moving around. Finally, he grabbed her hips to still her. "Don't do that," he said in a low voice that raised the hairs on the backs of her arms.
She knew that voice and suddenly her heart was pounding. "Don't do what?" she whispered, deliberately grinding her bum into his lap.
His hands left her hips to wander upwards. He moved them so slowly that by the time they cupped her breasts, Hermione was almost trembling in anticipation. Her nipples sprang to life against his palms and as he gently kneaded the soft masses, she was suddenly, shockingly, ridiculously aroused.
Absence makes the heart - and the body - grow fonder, and whomever had thought that one up certainly wasn't kidding. Because the three days since she'd felt his hands on her body like this, since she'd cried out his name in completion, had done nothing but fuel her hunger for when she could do so again.
Harry's lips brushed against her left earlobe, making her shiver while she continued squirming. But then she froze as a sudden thought occurred to her. "We can't do this here."
"Why not?" He squeezed one nipple, making her gasp.
"What if one of the kids woke up and came downstairs?" she managed, while trying to bite back a moan as her husband alternately squeezed and rolled her taut peaks between his thumbs and forefingers.
He paused and Hermione almost cried with dismay, even though she was the one who'd brought it up. Damn her over-analytical brain!
"You're right," he said, reaching for his wand and pointing it at the ceiling. "Soporiferum. Now where were we?"
She smiled. Let nobody say Harry Potter was a dimwit. The Soporiferum charm would render every living thing upstairs into a state of deepest sleep, wherein a 3W shop could explode right by their ear and they wouldn't so much as flinch. Kind of like a mild (and very much safer) Charms equivalent of the Draught of Living Death.
"You are brilliant," she whispered, twisting around to kiss his neck.
His arms slipped under her shirt. "That's just you rubbing off on me."
Hermione could only close her eyes and moan as he brushed his thumbs lightly across her nipples. She raised her hands so he could pull the top over her head before he quickly divested her of her bra as well. She leaned back against him, moving her rear in circles and figure-eights against his bulge and Harry groaned into her ear.
She turned her head until their lips met in a bruising kiss as the urgency surged between them. His right hand slid up her leg, under her skirt and up the inside of her thigh. Her knickers were already damp and he moved them aside and slid his index and middle fingers into her. She cried out, arching into his hand, her head thrown back against his shoulder.
To her disappointment, his fingers left her but only to slip her knickers down her legs and she eagerly kicked them off to somewhere under the table. He leaned her back against his chest and pulled her legs wide open. She couldn't help the noises she made as his fingers found her again, stroking her, stretching her, plunging into her, lighting her afire with a blinding need.
"I was thinking about this the whole time I was away," he growled as his thumb lightly stroked her clitoris. "Did you know that?"
"No," she gasped. "Oh Harry, oh Harry."
His fingers picked up speed, and she was so wet and he was whispering in her ear comments that had her writhing even more. His lips found her neck, suckling at the spot that drove her wild, while her hips moved desperately against his hand. He hooked one arm under her left leg, holding her open in such a way that that same hand could reach up to caress her left breast. His fingers on her, inside her, his lips on her neck, his words in her ear; it was too much, and she was coming so hard that she nearly blacked out. She screamed his name with abandon while the pleasure lambasted her until she slumped back against his chest, her cries finally dying away, trembling, spent and sated. For now.
He slowly withdrew his fingers from her, making her shudder, and held her close until she caught her breath, whispering now how much he loved her, how much he had been looking forward to this.
"I love you too," she whispered back, once she could speak again. "I love you so much."
He kissed her greedily, his hands in her long hair that had somehow come loose from its ponytail. Her skirt had gotten bunched up around her waist and she wiggled out of it while still sitting on his lap, making Harry groan deeply.
Smiling to herself, she stood up and turned around to face him, delighting in the way his eyes roamed her body. Hermione had given birth to three children and naturally, her body had changed and not all that favorably, in her opinion. Her breasts were fuller now, her hips wider. Thankfully, she'd more or less regained the waistline of her early twenties but she doubted her stomach would ever be completely flat again. That stubborn "pouch" on her lower belly just refused to go away.
But Harry always made her feel so beautiful, so wanted, and just the way he was looking at her now made the ache begin again between her legs.
"We always seem to do this," she sighed in mock exasperation.
"Do what?" he asked breathlessly. His eyes blazed with desire and she knew he was barely restraining himself from bending her over the table and fucking her senseless. Not that that would be a bad thing, but she wanted to tease him a bit first.
"Somehow I always end up naked while you remain fully clothed." She leaned forward to lick the shell of his ear. "I think that is grossly unfair and must be remedied. Don't you agree?"
"Yes," he gasped eagerly, his hands warm on her arse.
She smiled, sucking his earlobe into her mouth, loving the feel of his hands dancing up and down her bare back. She took off his glasses and kissed him lightly all over his face, unbuttoning his shirt as she did. Once his chest had been bared, she eagerly pushed the shirt off, his shapely pectorals jumping under her fingers. Harry suddenly grabbed her face and kissed her, hard, and Hermione felt a thrill race down her spine. She wanted to push him to the edge of his control and she seemed to be succeeding.
Continuing her maddening pace, she kissed down his chest, flicking his tiny nipples with her tongue.
"Hermione," he groaned, his hands wandering through her hair.
Her hands fumbled with his belt and she undid the zipper and pulled his pants down slowly. He kicked them off as she grasped his erection through his boxers and stroked him with the soft fabric. He threw his head back and gripped the edges of the chair so hard his knuckles were white. Wanting him desperately now, to see him, to taste him, she slipped the boxers off him too and he sprang free, proud and straining.
"Oooh," she cooed, dropping to her knees and cupping him with both hands. Harry jerked and she leaned forward and enveloped him in her mouth. He cried out, raising his hips and she swirled her tongue over the head, inhaling his scent, absorbing his taste. She sucked him deeper into her mouth, as far as he could go, and back up again, feeling herself getting even more excited by the sounds he was making.
"Hermione. Please," he begged as her mouth moved faster and she slowed and popped him out.
"Please, what?" she asked coyly, her tongue snaking out to collect the pearl of moisture that he leaked.
His eyes opened, forest green with hunger. "I need to be inside you."
"As you wish," she drawled, standing up and straddling him, her feet braced on the edges of the chair on either side. His breathing was ragged as he positioned her and they both moaned gutturally when she sank down onto him. He filled her so perfectly, so completely. Like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, they had been made to match, there was no doubt about it.
"Oh yes," he hissed as he grasped her hips and began moving her on him in a swift and steady rhythm. Her hands gripped his shoulders for leverage as he began to thrust up into her and Hermione was so turned on, she knew she wouldn't last very long. From the sounds he was making, neither would he.
They were both muttering unintelligibly as the pace sped up. Harry crushed her to him, kissing her possessively, the poor chair getting quite a workout as their passion overtook them. His mouth latched onto first one nipple, then the other and back, as if he couldn't get enough of her.
"Touch yourself," he whispered, his hands holding her waist tightly now and she obeyed without hesitation. At the sight, Harry groaned and began moving even faster, his hips almost a blur and Hermione whimpered as she felt the threshold speeding towards her. His lips found hers again, surprisingly tender in the midst of the frenzied passion and his tongue was still in her mouth when her orgasm burst forth, full and deep, from her very core.
Her eyes fluttered shut but his mouth absorbed her scream of release. Harry yanked his lips away from hers as she felt him stiffen, and he yelled her name with the arrival of his climax, as powerful as her own. Time stopped for an everlasting eon and they were at the mercy of the ecstasy that only those in love can truly know.
They were both covered in sweat, breathless and shaking when they sagged against each other and no more words were spoken until their heart rates had gotten halfway back to normal. Harry slipped out of her, weakly grabbed his wand and muttered a quick cleaning charm before settling her more comfortably on his lap.
"Great Caesar's Ghost," Hermione murmured numbly, her head pillowed against his chest as she listened to the staccato rhythm of his heartbeat.
She felt him nod. "You can say that again."
"Okay. Great Caesar's Ghost."
He chuckled and rubbed her back. Finally, she pulled away to look into his eyes but didn't speak. Instead, they just smiled goofily at each other, reveling in each other's company and the silence of the sleeping house. Not to mention the undeniable thrill in the knowledge that, after all this time, they could still blow each other's mind.
The inevitable lethargy of post-coital bliss was beginning to set in before Harry spoke again. "Let's go to bed."
They got up somewhat wobbly and hunted for their discarded clothing. Hermione had to summon her knickers from under the table and Harry slapped her bare bum when she bent to pick them up.
He removed the Soporiferum charm from the upstairs and as they left the room, she looked back at the chair, sitting so innocently at the table. "The kids would never sit in that chair again if they knew what we just did," she commented to Harry, her eyes laughing.
Harry snorted. "Well, if that's the criteria, I guess they'll just have to move out of this house. Is there anywhere here we haven't done it?"
"In eleven years of marriage? I doubt it," she replied, pushing open the door of their room. "Can you believe it?"
"What?" he asked sluggishly.
"That we've been married for eleven years."
He sat down on their bed and stared at her for a while before answering. "Sometimes I can't. But all it takes is a certain smell, a certain color. A certain word. 'Honestly'. And I remember you. And when I remember you, I remember that I belong to you and that's all that matters."
She had come close to crying quite a few times that day, but only now did her eyes really overflow as she hurried to him and fell into his outstretched arms. Earlier she had wondered silently how it was possible to love someone so much. Could she count the ways? Now she knew that it didn't matter. The 'hows' didn't matter. What mattered was that they just did; they simply did.
And as long as they did, they would get through whatever life or fate or the cosmos or what-have-you decided to throw at them. They would help their daughter through this confusing time of growing up. They would help their son figure out a better way to deal with confrontation. They would do it - together.
Because they were stronger as one than they were as two and as her husband's lips descended on hers once again, Hermione had never ever been more sure of that fact.
And, please, let them never forget it...
******
End Notes:
The latin in this chapter (Soporiferum, which means "deep sleep") is from: http://catholic.archives.nd.edu/cgi-bin/lookdown.pl?deep+sleep