Without Love

Stietoe

Rating: NC17
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 14/06/2004
Last Updated: 15/06/2004
Status: completed

Harry and Hermione are somehow forced to marry because of a pact they made when they were seventeen...

Chapters

1. Prologue

2. Without love...

3. Epilogue

1. Prologue

AN: Based on two challenges!

Manjusha Sharma asked me once if I could write a fic with the following elements: Harry and Hermione get married, and it’s their wedding night. Conclusion: smutty fic, but! Hermione can’t be the confident one this time! She isn’t the ‘knowledgeable’ one, Harry on the other hand is… Harry must take charge completely and take care of Hermione!

When this challenge was presented to me I had no time to fit it in, also… I still do have more fics going on then I can actually handle, but I needed a diversion, and when I decided to check out the challenges posted at Portkey.org, I was reminded if this request…

So I’m combining two challenges, of sort:

The one Manjusha Sharma gave me eons ago, and the one Emerald_Lorett posted at http://www.portkey.org/talk/index.php?showtopic=8681, it’s called “If we get really old..., Harrys' pact with Hermione”. You’ll see, that title is pretty much self-explanatory…

I’m adding this to the angst factor of this fic: when the trio was still in Hogwarts, Hermione couldn’t remember a time she hadn’t loved Harry, but Harry is oblivious to all of it. Even after Hogwarts and defeating Voldemort, Harry finds a new way to forget his sorrows, which makes Hermione almost bitter with desperation…

***

Two warnings, though, it may seem Harry is the bastard and Hermione the hurt one… but they’re both the victims of their choices.

Please don’t judge Harry to be an ass, even though his actions may seem like he is, he never means to hurt anyone, and he’s blind to the real thing that could be Hermione, mainly because of his upbringing. He’s unwillingly hurting himself too by denying himself to dream…

As for Hermione, she isn’t just a virginal old spinster, bitter by her unrequited love… Her hurt is her strength and she (friendly-)loves Harry despite his choices. As for how she turned out cold, but ONLY in the romantic way, that is her choice, as for not letting anyone touch her even if she was 35 by then, also a choice in life. She just tried to cut of the romantic feelings she had and only lived on love for friends and family.

In fact they’re both doing the same thing but in another way and for different reasons.

And then the age of 35… They’re wizard and witch! And the pact was supposed to be: they get married when they get really old… At 17, 35 seems already old, but in wizarding terms, they’re still very young at that age!

A final remark: the challenge was to have smut where Hermione wasn’t knowledgeable… The only situation I could see Hermione letting Harry take full lead on a wedding night was this scenario…

Oh, and by popular demand, I decided to give you all a short epilogue… watch out for it!

***

Spring of 1997

“Harry! You can’t be serious!”

“Of course I am! Come on, Hermione! It’s just a friendly thing to do! You know Muggles do it all the time!”

Hermione looked at her best friend like he had grown a second head. This really was the evening of surprises. She briefly retraced her steps as to be sure this wasn’t a dream…

As Head Girl, she had rounds that evening, and she had ran into Harry. Well, not really, but she had witnessed him use that Invisibility Cloak for so long now, that she could feel him, despite not seeing him. He had been on his way to the kitchens, or so was his excuse… Hermione hadn’t pressed him into telling her the real reason he had been up, because she knew why. They were at war, and he was supposed to be the answer to the end of it… Such a burden would cause anyone to worry themselves into insomnia.

He had accompanied her on the rest of her round, still covered under the Cloak, since it would spare them from lying and coming up with an excuse as to why he was there, would they run into a teacher. She would never admit it out loud, but she loved his presence. Just having him near made her feel safe, even if he was a magnet for trouble.

Checking the snogging places, she had the surprise of her life: Ron Weasley was fondling a very eager Luna Lovegood!

She hadn’t had time to formulate any reprimand, because Harry had grabbed her elbow and dragged her out of there, before either of the two lovebirds could notice they had been discovered. He had dragged her all the way to the kitchens. On the way there, Hermione had tried to reign in the emotions that were coursing through her: shock, disappointment, relief, no jealousy, but disapproval of their actions nonetheless…

Of course she was relieved Ron had finally chosen to show interest in an other girl. It saved her the awkward scene she had dreaded since fourth year: the one where she had to explain to Ron that even though he had a crush on her, she just didn’t have those kind of feelings for him. But she felt a bit disappointed also: in truth, Ron had been the only one who’d ever shown any interest in her. Well, maybe Viktor Krum, but he proved to be too jealous for her taste.

But Harry had dragged her into the kitchen, and had been asking for ice-cream and such. While Hermione got the distinct feeling he was trying to cheer her up, she hadn’t the heart to tell him she had never had any romantic notions towards Ron. Besides, she enjoyed the attention Harry was giving her. Why would she give that up by telling Harry she didn’t need comforting?

But then he had to come out and say that!

“Hey, Hermione! You know what: let’s make a pact! If we get really old… and we’re still alone… You and me, we’ll get married!”

Hermione had coughed on her ice-cream at that… Of course, she could only hope he was serious, but that belief had been shattered instantly by his statement that it had been a friendly gesture. Hermione shook her head: Harry didn’t like her that way, and she needed to get over that! She couldn’t help but hope, though.

First she tried to tell him it was a crazy idea, but he had said it was innocent, and a show of how great their friendship was…Harry didn’t relent. He explained he’d heard about a tradition between Muggle best friends of the opposite sex to make that kind of pact. It was to ensure they wouldn’t end up alone, and really, it was more of a fun thing to do.

“Don’t be a spoilsport Hermione! Now come on, we do this the right way!”

He dug out a pocket-knife, and made a superficial cut in his palm, Hermione watched it bleed with wide eyes.

“Harry, what in Merlin’s name are you doing!”

But Harry just smiled at her. She could feel her heart going a mile an hour, as he looked at her like that. When he grabbed her hand she didn’t stop him, and she barely felt the cut when he slid the blade over her skin. She was lost in his eyes, and for a moment she allowed herself to believe, that maybe, one day…

Harry pressed his injured palm against hers. His green gaze locked with Hermione’s, and he said in a grave voice:

“Now, I’ll go first: I, Harry James Potter, solemnly swear that if we’re not married … or engaged to be married, by the time we’re… 35… I’ll take you, Hermione Jane Granger, to be my wife!”

He ended with a boyish grin. Hermione felt her cheeks flaming, and she had to fight very hard not to let any tears escape. To her the moment was magic, even if her brain implored her to use her common sense and logic, and not read too much into it.

“Come on, Hermione, it’s your turn now!”

Clearing her throat, she started shakily in a whisper:

“I, Hermione Jane Granger, solemnly swear that if we’re not married, or engaged to be married, by the time we’re 35 I’ll take you, Harry James Potter, to be my husband…”

Harry beamed, and let go of her hand. He put his arm around her shoulder:

“See, Hermione, you’ll never be alone, I promised!”

Though Hermione knew he couldn’t make that promise, especially as long as Voldemort was alive, it gave her hope…

***

Please review?

2. Without love...

***

There's a way to make things better
there's a reason to hold on
to a dream that we should never let go
There's a future to look out for
there's a reason to believe
there's more to see than whatever we show

Just look inside your heart
and make that dream come true
there must be something we can do

Without love
We never will achieve it
Without lover
We might as well just leave it
We can work things out
But never without love

There's so many people out there
who just don't know who they are
but there's no one I can be without you
Still the sun will keep on smiling
and the stars will always shine
but life is so much brighter with you

I can't accept it's over
there's so much we can do
as long as you just love me too

Without love
We never will achieve it
Without lover
We might as well just leave it
We can work things out
But never without love

Stay with me, can't you see
it's you that I keep dreaming of
trust in me, we're never gonna make it

Without love
We never will achieve it
Without lover
We might as well just leave it
We can work things out
But never without love

WUYTS & SCHEPENS

***

Fall of 2005

It was the day after her 25th birthday, and she had never been so nervous in her life.

Hermione knew it was wishful thinking that Harry would ever show interest in her, but her heart had always hoped… She remembered the day they had made that pact like yesterday. It had fed her hope, as well as Harry’s attitude.

Not long after they had made that pact, Harry had vanquished Voldemort… But he had suffered gravely. Hermione had nursed him back to health, basically by herself, since Harry wouldn’t let anyone close to him but her. He talked to her, and she listened, she loved him in silence, all the while working hard to keep her position at the Ministry.

Hermione had managed to get the job of her dreams: she worked in the Ministry’s archives. It sounded a lot more dull then it was in reality. A lot of old books carried Dark Arts in them…

A year after Voldemort’s demise, Harry had been accepted into Auror training. Really they were jumping in anticipation to have him in their team, but nasty rumours about his unstable mental health had made it a little rougher to get in. But with Hermione’s guidance he had managed to convince them into being admitted into law enforcement.

After his exhausting two year training Harry had slowly started to be more social. He still wasn’t one for big events organised in his name as saviour of the wizarding world, but he visited old friends more frequently, and Hermione had high hopes he would work out his inner demons from then on…

She always hoped this closeness he had with only her, a closeness he didn’t even have with Ron, would prove to be a manifestation of an underlying feeling. That, when the time was right she could try to make him understand she was willing to be more to him then a surrogate big sister. And that those feelings would be reciprocal …

That was actually her plan tonight. Well, not that she really had a seduction plan in mind, more like a ‘come-by-his-house-with-an-excuse-and-try-to-be-subtle-in-showing-romantic-interest’… She had been nervous, and not really sure about how to go about it, so she was just planning to thank him for the birthday party he had thrown her the other day, and see where to go from there…

She had finally got that Gryffindor courage together, and was on her way to Harry’s place, even though it was quite late.

Apparating in his street, she saw him leave in a taxi, dressed like a Muggle to go clubbing. Thinking her eyes had deceived her, she went with the urge to follow Harry. She apparted several times after the taxi, trying not to get caught by anyone. The ride stopped at a Muggle dancing of sorts. There was a line outside, but Harry seemed to be quite popular, since he got in immediately after arrival.

Hermione knew she wouldn’t get in the way she looked, but witch as she was, she cast a concealment charm on her and snuck in. She couldn’t find Harry anywhere in the main area of the club. It was getting harder for her to pass by inconspicuous as the mass of people present was enormous. Searching for a less crowded spot, she discovered the entrance to the VIP room.

What she witnessed there made her heart break. Harry had found an outlet for his inner demons alright! The music sounded a lot more sensual in these rooms, and the people there were dancing even more suggestive than back in the main area. Harry was dancing with two beautiful Muggle women. He was sandwiched between them, while they tried their best to push every one of their perfect curves into his body.

He seemed to be amusing himself immensely. Briefly Hermione tried to rationalise the scene she was witnessing. The best she could come up with was that Harry had an undercover mission of some sort…

She left shortly after seeing Harry kiss the slut plastered on his front while the other one was suckling his neck.

The following weeks, Hermione had made sure to use any tool available to her and every favour anyone owed her to discover, discretely, if Harry did have some undercover mission. But the truth was, he really was sleeping around with women he picked up at clubs.

Hermione had always heard Harry complain about how witches would just throw themselves at him. Well, he certainly enjoyed the hunt now with women who didn’t even know who he was…

Hermione never spoke to him about her figuring out he had casual sex with Muggle women. She certainly never let him know she had loved him. She did however hide her pain, and slowly lost hope… Eventually she forgot about the pact…

***

Summer of 2015

Harry was pretty content with his life.

He had just turned 35, still very young for a wizard, he had a fulfilling job, and great friends. He was still single, but that’s the way he liked it. The way of a bachelor. Of course he would like a family of his own, but that was but a mere dream for someone like him. How would he enjoy a nice relationship, when he was so famous in the wizarding world anyway? Besides, he got the love and support from his friends, and the more… basic needs… He could go to Muggle gatherings for that.

He was no monk, even though Ron teased him to be sometimes. His red-haired friend had been married for almost ten years now with his Hogwarts’ sweetheart Luna Lovegood, and was trying to repopulate the wizarding world! Luna was pregnant for the fifth time, but the Mediwizard had already announced it was a triplet growing inside her.

Harry did worry a bit about Hermione sometimes. After all, she was the most important person in his life: she was like a surrogate mother and big sister, and best friend, all wrapped into one… He had always thought she had a thing for Ron, but he’d never guess she would change the way she did when the engagement of Luna and Ron became public. Though no one seemed to have noticed the change in her starting around that period.

She had always been the sensible one, not bothering with silly crushes (after Lockheart), but the way she started to dress and wear her hair like McGonagall or Madam Pince was frightening. Ron told her so, every opportunity he had. She didn’t date, and for as far as Harry knew, he doubted she had even been kissed, ever…

It was like her big heart had closed a window. She still was passionate about her organisations to free House Elves, and give equal rights to werewolves, merepeople, centaurs, and so on. She loved her godchildren and she participated at most of the Weasley family gatherings. But she seemed married to her job. Never did she let anyone come closer to her in a romantic way.

Now that he thought of it, she had always been closest to him…

He would try to bring it up sometimes, but she would always divert the attention to something different. They may be tight, but apparently, she didn’t feel comfortable telling him what was in her heart. The part that boggled him the most, was that she genuinely seemed to love Ron and Luna’s kids, and she had warmed considerably to Luna. Or she really was over Ron, and there was another reason she had grown up so cold towards dating, or she just hid her feelings really well.

He wished she’d tell him, but then he remembered he didn’t tell her everything either. He guessed it was ok, then… But what he was hiding from her was totally different. He didn’t think Hermione would approve of him having casual sex… Even though the rational part of his brain told him, Hermione should understand a man had needs, she always seemed so uptight about that subject…

Whatever it may have been, Harry had been thinking about it more frequently these days. He didn’t know why she suddenly invaded his mind almost constantly, but he couldn’t ignore a nagging feeling. She had always been there for him, and lately he started to feel he was letting her down in some way.

He was currently pondering what to do with his Saturday afternoon. Hermione had cancelled their plans, because she had to work. She had been upgraded to the Ministry of Mysteries, and was always immersed in work.

It was at that point, when he was pondering Hermione’s love for her job, that a pain slashed through his palm. It had been happening since his birthday a couple of weeks ago. Little flashes of pain in his one hand. He was considering going to a Mediwizard, before something downed on him…

That pact he had made with Hermione at the end of seventh year!

Racking his brain, he remembered they had found Ron and Luna snogging and Harry had been desperate to cheer her up. So he had made that pact to marry her when they got really old in order to lift her spirits…

He smiled at the memory. It had all been in good fun, and Hermione had smiled. He remembered feeling wonderful to have been the one to console her for once. He wondered now, if she still remembered that pact? Maybe he should ask her…

***

Late summer of 2015

This was not supposed to happen…

Harry sighed over a glass of firewhiskey, damning the day he had an unorthodox idea to cheer Hermione up.

He had remembered now what the pact had said: 35 years old… both not married or engaged to be married… First he had laughed it away. Even if Hermione remembered, she wouldn’t hold him to that promise.

And boy, had he been right on that account!

Only, it wasn’t really up to them anymore. The more the day of Hermione’s 35th birthday neared, the more his palm hurt. The gash he had made to make the pact had magically reappeared, and was not curable. He had contacted Hermione to make sense of it.

It had not gone well at all. Apparently, by mixing their blood, and somehow saying the wrong things while doing that, made the pact binding… It was some kind of old magic, and they had no way of predicting how or what was going on. They couldn’t find the answer as to what exactly the consequences would be, were they to ignore it, but it didn’t sound promising…

Hermione didn’t hide her displeasure at the whole prospect of having to marry Harry, and it hurt him in a way he didn’t know he could be hurt…

At first glance, he wasn’t too eager to go with the facts as they were now. He loved Hermione, but this was something else completely! Could he be married to her? He let himself think about that possibility. They did respect each other… And she wouldn’t be with him for his fame or his money, nor his looks… If she’d ever consent to have kids…

No, that was just a dream. Having kids of his own had been a dream he had let go a while ago, as finding a so-called love of his life. Besides, to have kids they would have to have sex, and Hermione was like a sister to him!

He couldn’t… But, a wizarding union required that the marriage is consummated… so he would have to have sex with her at least once! That is, if it ever came to that… Worse! The contract between a husband and wife was made up in a way that the partner would know if the other was cheating on them!

That meant that he would only be able to sleep with Hermione until the end of his days? What if he didn’t ‘show interest’ in her like that? What if she never wanted him into her bed after their wedding night? Would she mind him sleeping with other women? Would he be able to sink so low?

Argh! Harry shook his head vehemently, it was no use thinking about it! It would never come to that anyway: they’ll find a way...

***

Winter of 2015

Hermione didn’t know what to do anymore. She had read all about blood magic, and pact making she could get her hands on, they had tried every spell and potion in the book to try and stop the pain in their palms. She had even dug up the oldest known text about magic to figure out how to break the spell they had cast on each other by accident.

Her troubles were in vain. The gashes were incurable… Well, not really, there was a cure: marriage…

Hermione had been walking around extremely nervous when she had found that even if one of the two would get engaged now, it wouldn’t stop the pact: they were both 35 now, and they had until Harry’s birthday to come up with something better…

Muggle marriage wouldn’t work either: the magic wouldn’t recognise that union. They could get married the wizard way, and get a divorce after, but a magical divorce was not a simple thing to do… Besides, she’d still have to sleep with Harry in that scenario…

The stress was getting to her, and the Christmas decorations were starting to grate on her nerves. She was expected at the Burrow tonight, for Christmas Eve, and she wasn’t in the best of spirits to enjoy the holydays right now.

Readying herself, her thoughts trailed to Harry, as per usual. Despite her efforts to bury her feelings to make them go away, these last few weeks had learned that they hadn’t been diminishing as she thought they were. It wasn’t hope anymore that fluttered through her heart. It was more of a painful despair…

It filled her when she realised he was still the only wizard who had been able to touch her heart, and that he was almost in reach. But it killed her that even though he would be hers in marriage, he would never really be hers…

Arriving at the party her eyes scanned the room for a familiar mop of messy black hair. She thanked Merlin the news of their predicament had managed to stay between them. Not even Ron or any other Weasley knew about it…

Hermione felt a twinge when she saw Harry play with one of Ron’s offspring… He was laughing and genuinely enjoying himself. It only made her heart ache more. Why did he refuse to settle down and stop seeing those… bimbos, when he so obviously loved children? He would make a wonderful father…

When Harry looked up and stared back at her, she was startled by his intense gaze. Quickly diverting her eyes, she proceeded to avoid Harry for the rest of the evening. She played with the children, and talked to their parents, basically kept her mind occupied, so she wouldn’t have to confront her thoughts about the situation she was in.

As the night wore on, it was time to put the little ones to sleep. Helping up Ron’s youngest, one of her goddaughters, she tucked the little girl in with care.

“Auntie Hermione…”

“Mmh…”

The redheaded little girl yawned cutely, before continuing: “Why don’t you have babies like mummy? Don’t you like babies?”

“I love babies, sweetie, but I don’t have a husband, so I can’t have babies, you see?”

The little girl furrowed her brow in sleepy concentration: “But you could marry Uncle Harry, then you could make babies together! Why don’t you do that? Don’t you love Uncle Harry?”

Hermione sighed, and ignored the twinge in her heart.

“It’s time for you to sleep, sweetie…”

The little girl nodded while her eyes fluttered closed.

Hermione bent forward to kiss her forehead, and left her goddaughter to sleep. When she turned around to leave the room she almost screamed when she discovered Harry leaning on the doorpost. Swallowing her squeal, she tried to reign over her thunderous heart while stepping into the hallway.

With every intention to get back downstairs to the festivities, she was annoyed when Harry steered her in a different way, outdoors.

“We need to talk, Hermione…”

She crossed her arms in front of her, in a gesture that was meant to be defensive, but helped keep the cold at bay, too. Harry started pacing a bit when she didn’t say anything, and then stopped right in front of her.

“Look, Hermione. I never meant this pact to ruin our friendship. But it’s here now, and we have to deal with the consequences. The way I see it, we better get married,” Harry held his hand up, “And before you say no, let me finish. We’re both adults… And yes, this may not be the most conventional way to get married, but people marry for worse reasons then this…”

Harry scraped his voice: “See, we’ve been best friends with each other for most of our lives, we respect each other, and we’re both single. We spend most of our free time together anyway, so there doesn’t have to change much. Actually the only thing I could think of that will change is the physical part. But even there, I think we could come to an understanding. And who knows what the future brings? We may want to have kids one day, but that is something different…”

Shaking his head to rid himself from the sudden feel of want to raise children with Hermione at his side, he continued: “And listen, if it really doesn’t work out, we can always have a divorce… But I think we could manage… So, what do you say?”

Hermione didn’t know what to think. This was like her worst nightmare combined with her most wonderful dream… Basically he had just proposed, and though, logically, he had brought up some excellent points, her heart screamed that it was not enough… At last she answered him:

“Let me think about it…”, leaving Harry relieved she at least hadn’t dismissed his offer immediately.

***

Spring of 2015

Here they were, having just been married in secret…

Hermione had come to the conclusion it was worth a shot… Their palms had started to hurt so much, it was starting to distract her from her work. And that had wiped out most of her objections to Harry’s offer… Well, that’s what she told herself, anyway. They had agreed to keep it secret for now, until they were sure things were going to work out.

It wouldn’t do to add stress to the situation by having the whole wizarding world watching…

Hermione sat in her room at Harry’s house. It had always been her room, and she’d felt comfortable there, she stayed over enough times to have considered it a second home. But ironically, now, it felt like she was sitting in a guestroom, more then ever…

They had agreed she would move in with him since he had the bigger house, but she’d keep her apartment for now. So far, that was the extent of the decision making concerning the changes following the marriage.

The ceremony had been short and more business-like, rather than romantic, but it wasn’t from Harry’s lack of trying. He really was putting in an effort to make the best of it, trying to make her happy… And she did her best to hide her painful longing to have something more…

She had retreated into her bedroom to put on something ‘more comfortable’ for their wedding night… Harry had just grinned reassuringly, and told her he’d be waiting for her in the master bedroom and she could come whenever she felt ready.

It was easy for him to say. Hermione had never felt so nervous in her life. Her fingers trembled when she unbuttoned her robes and shed the rest of her clothing. She went to stand in front of the mirror and looked at her underwear-clad body… It wasn’t that she was obese… but she didn’t have that figure Harry’s sluts had…

Sighing she tore her gaze from the mirror and she quickly discarded her classic underwear. She had toyed with the idea to buy alluring bed wear, but she didn’t find the motivation to really go and buy them. Donning a simple robe she normally wore over her pyjamas, she tied the knot securely and walked out the door of her bedroom. Quickly crossing the hall, she knocked on Harry’s door.

“Let’s get this over with,” she mumbled as stimulation to actually open the door to Harry’s room.

She felt the door close behind her, and she saw Harry had stripped his robe and dress shirt. He was in the process of pulling the drapes down from the bed, and Hermione felt her cheeks flame at the spectacle Harry was providing.

His well-toned upper-body showed the muscles moving beneath the skin while he was closing all the curtains hanging from the bedposts but one. Suddenly Hermione was sure she didn’t want Harry to see her in the nude. How they were going to pull of consummating their marriage without him seeing her, she didn’t care, but she reflexively clutched the robe with both hands, not even letting him see the skin above her breasts.

Harry looked up at her and was watching her with that warm gaze that told her that everything would be alright. He walked up to her, since she hadn’t moved from the door yet.

Lifting up one of his hands, he caressed her cheek and cupped her chin to make her look at him.

“Hermione, there’s no reason to be so nervous. It’s me, Harry, I would never hurt you, you know that?”

Oh, if he only knew about the hurt he had unwillingly caused her already! But looking into his eyes, she saw he was serious. The worry and love that shone through his gaze were genuine and she lost herself for the millionth time.

When she saw Harry lowering his head slowly to kiss her on the lips, her heart raced painfully. Her eyes fluttered closed, and when she felt Harry’s lips finally touched hers, every emotion she ever felt towards her best friend coursed through her. Despite her logical mind, she had envisioned this kiss for so long, it seemed pathetic.

Too soon it ended, and she felt her cheeks flaming. Harry took her hand gently and took her with him to the side of the bed that had still open drapes. Once they were both on the bed, Harry closed the last curtain of the four-poster, and shed the last of his clothing. Hermione was relieved to find it was quite obscure inside.

This meant she didn’t have to worry about Harry seeing her.

Harry had finished closing the curtains with a bit of a sad feeling. He figured she would be nervous, but the way she had been clutching her robe… Oh, he knew her too well, she put on a brave face, but in reality he had rarely seen her so scared. He supposed the darkness would put her at ease. Maybe, if it was him that made her feel uncomfortable, she could forget who she was with in the shadows…

The thought pierced his heart, as more then wounded male pride… But he didn’t dare to analyse that feeling at that point. He had a marriage to consume, and a friendship to preserve. He better concentrate at making her feel good… And maybe he could chase away the other man that held her heart, chase him from her thoughts…

Reaching out in the shadows, he laid one hand on her shoulder and brought her closer to him. They were face to face, both on their knees.

He cupped her cheek, gently rubbing it with his thumb to reassure her. Seeking her sweet lips again, he couldn’t help being tempted to taste her mouth. Proceeding carefully, he slipped his tongue into her mouth and drank in her surprised moan. Harry had kissed enough women, but this was different, somehow. This was Hermione, she mattered to him in an enormous way, and he tried to tell her that through that kiss.

After a few minutes of heaven, he loosened his arms around her middle, and brought them back to her shoulders. Slipping the fabric from her shoulders he brushed his lips over her shoulders and neck, feeling her heartbeat go fast.

His hands went to the knot that kept the robe together, and slowly he untied it. Letting the robe slide from her shoulders, Harry caressed her arms in reassurance.

Hermione’s heart risked to beat his way out of her chest. She was suddenly glad Harry had that much experience… though she did try to keep the knowledge from how he came to that expertise from her conscious memory. She felt his hands stroke their way to her belly, and slowly travel upwards. Goosebumps covered her body when fingers touched skin that hadn’t been touched by anyone but her.

When he lay his hands on her breasts like that, so tenderly, she felt tears prickle her eyes. This was what she had dreamed about for so long. His hands came back around her, and he flattened his palms over her back, reclaiming her mouth. Hermione tried to kiss him back hesitantly, to which Harry reacted enthusiastically.

Hermione felt his hardness press on one of her thighs, and a distant part of her brain was partying “I’m arousing Harry!” The foremost thought on her mind, though, was more about worry if the erection would fit… It couldn’t possibly fit!

Harry had left her mouth and held her in his arms still, when he touched his tongue to one of her nipples. The soft, wet touch was electrifying and brushed away the feeling of worry, for now. Harry continued exploring her breasts with his lips and tongue, to great pleasure of Hermione.

Harry felt intoxicated. He’d never expected to enjoy this as much as he was. He had expected to please her, and then him, and maybe cuddle up afterwards, but he hadn’t anticipated what her little squeaks of surprise would do to his system. She smelled and tasted wonderful, and most of all, natural… Most women he had been with had covered themselves in perfume which had mixed with the sweat from dancing all night. But not his Hermione.

She was fresh and almost innocent, and it felt like a first time of making love… He certainly hadn’t counted on her arousing him as much as she did… He was already painfully hard, and he hadn’t even touched her where it mattered the most. She hadn’t even touched him.

Drunk on her soft little cries and the taste of her breasts, he came back to kiss those lips of her. This time she kissed him back for real, and another little thrill of happiness coursed through him. He let one hand travel to her curls, and cup her mound. Hermione went ridged and he continued with care.

Spreading her nether lips, he ran a finger along her swollen flesh, she was wet, but not much. When he brushed over her sensitive flesh, she gasped silently. When he tried to enter her with a finger, she flinched, and grabbed his wrist.

“Wait!”

Harry, frowned, he didn’t think he was moving too fast…

“What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Since she hadn’t pushed his hand away, he just rubbed her humid flesh to ease her up, but he didn’t make any move anymore to enter her. Hermione’s breathing was heavy when she whispered:

“I… it’s just… I don’t… oh! But… Is it… Is it going to hurt much?”

Harry had never heard Hermione’s voice sound so small. The meaning of her words hit him hard though… Sure he had joked around often enough with Ron that Hermione must be a virgin, but he never thought…

“Harry?”

He was jolted out of his thoughts by her voice. It was only then that he had noticed he had frozen completely, and that she must feel really insecure right now.

“Hermione, why didn’t you tell me?”

Hermione felt put on the spot. There was much more she had never told him, but she would’ve thought this was pretty much self-explanatory why she wouldn’t share that information with him… At her silence, he brought the hand, that was caressing her back in a soothing way, up to cup her cheek. Softly he placed a kiss on her lips, and said:

“It will be alright, Hermione…”

Taking her hands in his, he guided her to lay down. He noticed her hands were shaking, and he made sure she was comfortable on the bed, then he laid himself beside her. Stroking her hair he tried to sooth her:

“It can be a bit painful, but I’ll do everything in my power to make it pleasurable. I need you to trust me though. Can you do that?”

Hermione chuckled despite herself, he was treating her like delicate china. But she was touched nonetheless.

“I trust you with my life, Harry, you know that!”

Harry remained serious: “I’m asking you if you trust me with your body, that’s something different…”

“I’m not going to break Harry, I’m just a bit nervous, that’s all…”

“Good, now try and relax…”

Hermione gave herself over to the feelings he brought back. It felt like his hands were everywhere, except there, and she was starting to get frustrated about that. Before she could collect the nerve to ask him, though, he shifted his body, and placed his hands on her knees.

Slowly he put pressure on her knees as if silently telling her to open them. Her heart fluttered, but she did what he asked of her. Before she could understand what he was planning to do, though, he had already lowered his head between her legs. He kissed his way up one of her thighs. Hermione was too shocked to react and when he kissed her there, she was surprised at how good that felt.

Harry continued to kiss and lick and suckle, and sometimes he passed that very sensitive spot, and then he rubbed it properly, wetly, his tongue soft and rough at the same time, and she felt warmth, and a strange kind of tickling, and then he left that spot alone again, and circled his tongue just around the spot, and she thought she was going crazy, and why didn’t he return?, yes!, there, oh, please?, and warmth, and toes curled, and don’t stop, and tingling feelings and… Oh!

Harry watched Hermione’s shadow shudder underneath him, with more satisfaction then he had ever felt. Her moans and mumblings had aroused him more then he thought possible… It was like he was giving this woman he had known for most of his life her first orgasm, and he had never felt such a warmth in his chest after doing this for any woman.

But he didn’t want to spoil this moment by thinking about those times… Climbing back up, he stopped briefly to kiss her bellybutton, which he had to touch and feel in order not to miss it in the dark… Coming back at the level of his Hermione, he carefully touched his lips to hers. He didn’t know if she would be grossed out by her own taste, but he needed to kiss her so badly.

Hermione was still reeling from the feeling Harry had just made her experience. She had always thought sex was just overrated, but this… She was still on some or the other cloud, when Harry touched his lips to hers again. Forgetting about where they had just been, she kissed him back without hesitation.

Harry felt secure in her passionate reaction, and brought one of his hands between them. Aligning himself with her core, he broke the kiss:

“Dig your teeth in my shoulder, Hermione…”

The request confused Hermione, but she did as he asked. She had barely taken his shoulder into her mouth, or he pushed into her in one move. Pain and shock flashed through her, and she bit the skin hard.

When she recovered, the pain wasn’t really as much as the shock had been, but she tasted something strange. She figured she had tore Harry’s skin and had made him bleed.

“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry!”

“Shh, it’s ok. Are you all right, though?”

Hermione didn’t really know what to answer to that, Harry was inside her, and despite it feeling strange and foreign, she felt a strange sense of completeness.

“Yeah…”

At that, Harry slowly slid out of her, and thrust back in. He kept his rhythm as careful as possible, even though the earlier activities had already tested his boundaries. He didn’t want Hermione to think he disrespected her, and he had promised her he would do everything in her power to make her enjoy this.

The slow pace was killing him, and when Hermione grunted and jerked her hips up to his for the first time, he couldn’t help but picking up some speed. Soon, her little moans were breaking his restraint.

At this time he regretted the darkness. He wanted to see her expression, he wanted her to see what she was doing to him, he wanted to be able to look in her eyes, as she could look into his. Ducking his head, he gave into the compulsion to kiss her again. Feeling himself nearing the edge, he brought a hand between their bodies and rubbed her stimulation point as thoroughly as he could in his condition.

Soon he felt her tremble beneath him, and as music to his ears, his name fell from her lips in constant murmurs… Hearing her say his name so easily while she was in the hold of passion, was his undoing… with a last few thrusts he spent himself within her.

Hermione felt her whole being warming again and again, her soul was filled with thoughts of only Harry. When he collapsed on her, she welcomed his weight. She had never felt so complete in her life… And still.

When Harry rolled off her, to lie on her side, she was again glad for the darkness. She didn’t want him to see the hurt in her eyes. He had made her feel so wonderful, a part of her was giddily asking when they could do that again…

But she knew she couldn’t get her hopes up.

Harry had never felt this kind of fulfilment after sex. It didn’t even seem fit to call what he had just shared with Hermione ‘sex’. It felt like he had made love to her. He had never really made love to anyone before… He pondered if she really considered this a one-time thing, or if they could explore this new side of their relationship.

But he knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up.

***

Late spring of 2015

Harry had never felt this way before.

He didn’t know what to do… So far they had avoided talking about any repeats of their wedding night almost a month ago. But otherwise their arrangement seemed to work. Nothing significant had really changed, other then Hermione being some kind of roommate of his now…

The rest of the world had yet to find out what had happened between the famous witch and wizard. And their palms had healed, not even leaving a scar.

But Harry was carrying the scar within now. He had never desired a woman as much as Hermione, especially when he’d already slept with her… Watching her in the morning, coming out of her room, and in the evening, going back there, alone, was driving him mad. The hardest thing, was watching her wear those classic robes, the ones that didn’t betray the curves he now knew very well were there. And seeing her hair restricted in that little bun of hers made him want to scream.

One time, when she was making herself breakfast, in the morning with her wild hair yet untamed, she had to hunch over for some reason or the other, and he had such a strong impulse to just hike up that bloody robe she was wearing and ravage her right there in the kitchen, that he had to excuse himself from breakfast.

A part of him felt disgusted at himself for wanting her so badly. He felt he was betraying her in some way by having these lewd thoughts about her. He respected Hermione, she was his rock, she wasn’t just some sexy woman to pursue and chase and ‘conquer’… She was Hermione, best girl ever…

So there he was, He-Who-Had-Once-Been-The-Expert-At-Chasing-Women, with a strong longing for his own wife, but he had no idea how to make her see that.

Tonight, he knew Hermione would come in early, so he had requested to get off from work sooner, too.

Hermione seemed to be surprised to see him home so early.

“We need to talk…”

That beautiful smile of hers slid from her face at his words…

“Last time you said that, you wanted us to get married… I suppose you want a divorce, now?”

Harry frowned, what was she talking about?

“No, that’s not it… Why, do you want that? Because I thought we were doing ok…”

“Oh… Uhm… No, I suppose I don’t want that either… I just thought… Never mind…”

“Ok… If you say so…”

Harry tried to read her state of mind but was drawing a blank. He really wanted to tell her what was bothering him, but he didn’t know how to bring it up after what had just been said…

“What did you want to talk about then?”

Hermione did her best to sound nonchalant. She had filed the wedding night into her memory and had promised herself to move on from there. It wasn’t easy, but she was living in close proximity of Harry, and he was always there for her when she had a hard day at work. She did the same for him, and it just felt good to know she could always depend on him being where home was.

But he had awakened something in her that asked to be further explored… His intense glances made it hard for her not to ask him if they could pick up where they left off at their wedding night.

Sometimes she thoroughly regretted having left his side in the early morning, before he woke up after that night…

But here they were, in the living room, and she had been so sure he would utter those words she had dreaded to hear… But now that they had established that neither of the two wanted that, Harry just stood there, undecided.

“I… Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but… ever since our wedding night… I just feel… different…”

Hermione frowned: “What do you mean?”

Her heart was thundering in her chest, and she didn’t know what to think about his statement…

“Well, I… Again, don’t take this the wrong way, but… I… I want you…”

There, he said it.

Hermione was more confused than ever… what did this mean? He wanted to have sex again? With her? Why?

As if hearing her thoughts Harry stumbled over his words, trying to explain:

“You see, for a long time now, you’ve been the most important person in my life… And I’ve been scared of losing you… but ever since that night… It’s been like this ever since we made love… I just… want you, like I’ve never wanted anything in my life before…”

“What are you saying, Harry? That you’re in… lust with me?”

Hermione’s voice was barely above a whisper, but that didn’t mean Harry was oblivious to the real emotion of anger that was behind that statement…

“No! It’s not like that! Well, it’s partly that, but… No! You’re much more special to me than just that! You are my… well, my wife… I feel better when you’re around, I want to be a better man when you’re around… You’ve always been there for me… And I always want to be there for you. I want to gauge the eyes out of anyone leering at you in a lewd way, and I only feel comforted when you sooth me… You… you complete me!”

Harry had no idea how he had managed to say all those things to Hermione, and then realised when he was saying them that they were true… He looked up when he heard a strangled sob…

Hermione felt her heart breaking completely, only to feel it rebuild at Harry’s words. She had waited so long for him to say that, she scarcely believed them true. But when he looked at her, even through her tears she could see he had never been more sincere.

“Hermione? I think I love you…”

Again a strangled sob left her throat and she felt herself moving towards Harry. Grabbing his the front of his shirt, she said savagely:

“You better… sniff… be damn… hic… sure… Harry! You think? Sniff… Or you know so?”

Harry touched his lips to hers and the feeling he never wanted to lose amplified within him:

“I know so… I love you, Hermione…”

Hermione didn’t try to restrain her sobs… She had held back for such a long time, and now she just threw her arms around his neck and sobbed in his shoulder.

“Hermione?”

Her answer was to seal her lips over his mouth. Threading her fingers in his hair, she let go. All the pent-up emotion that had accumulated in the more then twenty years she’d known Harry tried to dissolve itself in that one kiss.

Harry was surprised at her passionate reaction, but certainly not displeased. The revelation had been like a great cleansing experience for him, like all the pieces of a big puzzle had finally come into place. But for that brief moment he had never felt as vulnerable… What if she rejected him?

But this…

With a little effort, he broke the kiss to get some air. With what he knew to be a goofy grin on his face, he asked her:

“So? Does that mean you love me too?”

Hermione shook her head while biting her lower lip to keep it from trembling. More tears escaped her eyes when she whispered:

“You silly, silly man…”

Before he could protest, though, she silenced him with another kiss…

***

The End

***

please, review?

And there’s still the Epilogue…

3. Epilogue

AN: Sorry, but it turned out just PG-13, hope you enjoy it anyway!

***

The year 2030

Harry was watching his wife sleep… He knew he would only have mere minutes to gaze upon her uninterrupted, before his house would explode with the frenzy to get to the station on time…

Even now, after fifteen years of marriage, she was still the only witch he wanted. Disbelief flooded him for the umpteenth time since he had realized this brilliant witch loved him, all of him, unconditionally… Every new day, it was like he was waking up to a dream… It terrified him sometimes, that one day he was really going to wake to find it all was just a wonderful figment of his imagination…

He remembered the shock of realisation like it happened yesterday.

It hadn’t been enough for him to come to the insight that he had fallen in love with his best friend… She loved him back, and had for about as long as they knew each other. She had never come out about it, because she thought she could never live up to those Muggle women he used to chase around.

How could she think that? Worst of all, she had gotten it in her head that he was some kind of womanizer-extraordinaire… While his male ego had been a bit flattered by that, it was quickly established that he didn’t go to as often to Muggle dance clubs, and didn’t sleep with as many women as she thought he had.

He had spent the better part of the first months of their marriage convincing her that she had nothing on those women. He wasn’t the best with words, but she seemed to know he meant it… It had just taken her a while to get confidence in her physique, just because she wasn’t as skinny as a anorexia patient…

Oh, his wife… For such a brilliant witch she could be awfully silly sometimes.

But, just as well, he had struggled with the guilt of hurting her all those years. He couldn’t imagine how he could’ve thought she had been pining away for Ron during that time, while he himself had been a constant reminder of what she thought she could never have…

He had expected her to be at least mad at him, or yell at him, but she had stayed calm when he had been the one to freak out. What had finally convinced him to let bygones be bygones, was when she explained to him that she was tired of wasting time, when they could do much more interesting things instead of fretting over the past. She had enough of holding on to her hurt, she had allowed it to be a part of her for too long… Now she wanted happiness and pleasure!

Oh, and she may not have had much experience in the sex department at the start, but she had always been a quick to learn student… Ultimately they had explored the ways of making love soon enough, as equal partners. Hermione had rather quickly overcome any shyness in the bedroom department, and to this day she could surprise him still with the amazing ideas her mind came up with.

Oh, yes, he was one lucky bastard to have Hermione by his side. To have this amazing witch allow him to love her, and of course to make up for lost time…

Hermione stirred, and Harry watched longingly at a predictable spectacle: how she scrunched up her nose, before burying her face in her pillow. Bringing up one of his hands, he stroked the still bushy wild hair out of the way. She had quite a few silver locks, and he found them so endearing he implored her not to use spells to cover up the graying hair.

After all, he didn’t cover up his graying hair at his temples, did he? Of course, Hermione announced that with men, it was different: it was considered as distinguished. Despite her lamentation about the unfairness towards women with graying hair being considered old she didn’t spell the silver locks away, and Harry liked to think it was because he asked her not to…

Hermione looked up at her husband who sporting a very naughty grin:

“Urhg, Harry, it’s too early, you dirty old man!” Hermione joked.

Harry chuckled: “I can’t help it, you know what seeing your hair all wild does to me. I can’t imagine why you insist on keeping it in a bun all the time when we’re in public! Other then to annoy and torture me, of course,” as an afterthought, he added with a pout, “And I’m not old! You’re old!”

“Harry, now you’re acting like a baby. And yes you’re old, you’re fifty, that’s half a century!”

Hermione loved to tease her husband. Harry grumbled:

“Just you wait, in less than three weeks, I’ll tell you you’re half-way to being antique! See how you’ll like that!”

Harry grabbed his wife’s swatting hands, and tackled her to tickle her mercilessly.

“Harry, no! Stop! Please, the kids are going to be here any sec…”

Hermione hadn’t even ended her sentence or the door to their bedroom banged open.

“MORNING!!” Twin voices shouted.

Two ten-year old dark-haired boys, almost identical replicas of their grandfather James Potter at that age, minus the glasses, stormed inside the room.

“Eww! You weren’t having sex, were you?”

“No, Josh, they still have their pajamas on, so they weren’t doing the nasty business!”

Hermione yelled: “Jonathan and Joshua Potter!”

But before she could go into lecture mode, they had already sprinted out of the room. Hermione was going to start after them, but their oldest daughter, Jackie, appeared in the door opening:

“Mum! She’s taken over the bathroom again! Can’t you tell Josephine to hurry up already?!”

“It’s Joey! Jacqueline…” came from one of the closed doors in the hallway, “And I need to take my time! I want to look extra special!”

Jackie yelled back to the closed door: “Why? Do you want to look pretty for Billy Longbottom?”

“No!”

“GIRLS!” Hermione interjected, “Look, Jackie, just use our bathroom, ok? But be quick, your father and I still have to take a quick shower, too…”

“I won’t take that long, mum, unlike some we know!”

Her oldest daughter walked of in a huff, that reminded Harry so much of the old Hermione, it was uncanny. Jackie had inherited Hermione’s bushy hair, but her eyes were as green as Harry’s. Joey, on the other hand had inherited the sleek red hair, from Harry’s mother, or Hermione’s grandmother, they were still battling it out, whose side she had it from… Her eyes were also green, but they had little specks of brown in them.

Harry, in the mean time had captured his two sons, and Hermione was helping him getting them ready. While the girls would both be off to Hogwarts, they would be staying for two weeks at the Burrow. Ever since Arthur had passed away, Molly lived only for her grandchildren or the children she considered as such, and was most insulted when they didn’t consider her as a babysitter.

Harry and Hermione had planned to treat themselves to the honeymoon they’d never had. To a casual onlooker it would seem unwise to give the aging Molly the care of these two little Potter demons. But Molly’s years had not taken away her ability to handle energetic twins, in fact her wand was as quick as ever, and though the twins adored her, they would never cross her… too much…

A scream sounded from the girls’ bathroom and Joey stormed out of the door: “MUM! DAD! Look at what these criminals did to me!”

Hermione had long since gotten used to the theatrics of her youngest daughter, but Harry remained sensitive to screams of ‘damsels in distress’, as she teased her husband with.

Harry hurried over to Joey to asses the damage. Apparently, the twins had somehow gotten something on her toothbrush, because it looked like all her teeth had vanished! And not in the Muggle way of blackened-teeth-who-look-like-they’re-gone, but really invisible.

Looking at Hermione, he saw she was having difficulty looking disapproving at her boys, and since she would be more useful to find a spell to reverse the prank, anyway, he indicated she should take Joey, and that he would handle the twins. It was strange, Harry would’ve never expected Hermione to be even a little lax with the twins.

She was rather strict with her girls, but they never got into much trouble, and for now Harry was still their hero. As for the boys, Harry would’ve thought he would be the one to laugh at the twins jokes behind Hermione’s back while she would be fuming. But she had a considerate soft spot for her little boys, and often it was Harry who found himself in the role of reprimanding the twins. Hermione said he was better at not showing amusement, because of his training as an Auror.

With all the theatrics and chaos, they managed to get at King’s Cross in the nick of time. Jackie had her nose buried in some or the other book for the whole ride there, and didn’t look up until she heard the boisterous voices of her one-year older best friends since her birth: Ron and Luna’s triplets. Three loud red-headed boys who had an appetite that even put their father to shame. Luckily, they weren’t too much of pranksters, only occasionally, which was according to Luna, only due to Jackie’s sensible influence.

Joey had quickly kissed her parents goodbye, and sprinted off in search of her best friends Scarlette Creevey and Colleen Wood. After waving off the train, stopping by the Burrow together with Ron and Luna, Harry and Hermione only arrived back home around noon.

“Do you think we’re too old for this?” Hermione asked, picking up some last minute items to bring along on their vacation to Greece, their honeymoon.

“This coming from the woman who attacked me like a randy teenager last night? Are you kidding!”

Harry scooped his wife in his arms and when she squealed he stated dryly: “It always turns me on when you squeak like a pig!”

“Harry, you big buffoon! Put me down!” Hermione couldn’t help but laughing, though, “Oh, Harry! Please, you’re going to hurt your back! Please put me down!”

“I love it when you beg,” Harry dropped her on the bed and pinned her down with his weight. He wiggled his eyebrows, making Hermione chuckle even more.

Dramatically she said: “Oh, yes, my big hero, please come and rescue me from my dull fate!”

Harry just turned serious and blurted out: “I love you…”

Hermione’s chuckles eased, she never got enough of hearing him say that: “I love you too, Harry…”

He took her lips in a tender kiss that quickly turned more passionate. Hermione brought her arms around him, as well as her legs and moaned in his mouth when she felt his arousal press the right spot through their clothing.

But her mind intervened, before it could totally melt from Harry’s drugging kisses:

“MHarry, mm… we’re never… mhm… going to get to Greece… if we keep this up…”

Harry, however, changed the subject: “Do you hear… mhm… that?”

“Mwhat?”

“Nothing,” Harry grinned down at her, “Complete silence, in the middle of the day…”

Catching on, Hermione smiled, a silent deserted house during the summer vacation was indeed a rare thing.

“Race you!” Harry said and sprinted in the direction of their pool house.

Hermione didn’t waste any time to follow her husband, there was a hot tub with their name on it, and it had been ages since they had gone skinny-dipping in their indoor pool…

Greece could wait for a few more hours…

***

Please, review?