Ice

msscribe

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 28/02/2003
Last Updated: 28/02/2003
Status: completed

The story of a raging storm within a frozen forest...

Chapters

1. Ice

1. Ice

Ice by msscribe

Summary: A story of a raging storm within a frozen forest.

AN: I woke up at 1:00am, still annoyed at being plagarized again, and I couldn’t get back to sleep until 4:30am. Good for you smut is the result. And to the plagarizer (you know who you are) you may consider this my "Up Yours" fic. But this is dedicated to Max.

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At first, I attributed the vague sounds to the icy rain blistering against the solitary peak of the mountain I had sought shelter in, shortly before the ice storm began.

My shoes were full of water, my feet squelched against the leather soles, and I was beginning to grow sluggish. At least I had found this hole in the hillside to spend the night in. It was damp, but when the rain blew hard, there were still corners that remained dry.

“It’s settled then,” I said to no one, having grown used to talking only to myself.

Every bone in my body ached, and my scar was the only part of me that remained warm, still burning from the nearness of the one I was seeking. I knew I would find him soon, and when I did, I could finally fulfill my destiny.

But as it turns out, the sound I had heard before was the wind changing, accompanied by tiny feet struggling to maintain balance along the icy path. And it wasn’t until her slight silhouette appeared through the curtain of freezing rain that I knew I was no longer alone.

Her eyes warmed when she saw me, and I could tell she was both surprised and relieved. Her wet hair hung next to her flushed cheeks, and her hands were blue from the cold.

“Dumbledore told me you would be near here,” Hermione said through chattering teeth, “he sent supplies for you.”

She promptly removed the sack she had tied around her back and tossed it towards me. Inside there were blankets, food, drink, and a few healing potions along with a note from Dumbledore telling me that he hoped what he had sent would make my night a bit warmer. At the time, I thought he was referring to the blankets.

“It’s good to see you, Hermione,” I said, grateful for the supplies and the company.

She flicked her wand, uttering a drying spell for her clothes.

“It’s good to see you too,” she replied, pointing her wand in my direction.

I closed my eyes as the warmth swept over me, vowing to remember that spell from now on; as it was superior to the one I had been using. She sat down next to me, and we both listened to the syncopated storm as it danced across the top of the mountain. The forest was no stranger to us now, no longer the unfamiliar terror it used to be.

“I’ll have to stay here tonight. I don’t think this storm is stopping anytime soon,” she said.

We chatted for a while. We talked about the Order, about my being so close to accomplishing my mission, and about being children again at Hogwarts. She laughed as I recalled the time that Ron and I had taken the bewitched Muggle car to school after missing the train. I had retold that story about hundred times or more in the ten years since it had happened, but she still seemed to find it funny.

I had always liked having Hermione around. She gifted us with her insight and her optimism. I told her before I left that even though I was the one sent to fight the last battle, she was the one who carried the light in her eyes. She could always see the good, even when things were as dark as they could get.

We decided to share the two blankets, doubling the warmth, and as we lay there drifting off to sleep we wondered out loud if we were the only ones who ever bothered to listen to the rain.

I woke with a start, suddenly aware that she was no longer next to me. Outside, frozen droplets shattered on the ground like glass. Inside, Hermione sat a few feet away, watching, almost like she was keeping guard over me.

“Hermione? Are you all right?”

She turned and smiled. Her smile was sad, slow; the ache of it went straight to my soul. The blankets fell away from my shoulders and a rush of cool air hit my chest.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up, Harry.” Her voice had a ragged edge, like she had been crying. “I guess I’m just worried about you. You’re getting so close to confronting him again.”

I pushed the blankets aside and moved closer to her. I knew she could hear my breath and I couldn’t stop myself from brushing her hair away from her face.

“I have to try Hermione. With all the evil that he’s done…I think I can defeat him. Please don’t worry.”

And she smiled at me again, still not moving. “I know you can, Harry.”

“Thank you for coming up here. I really needed the supplies and you know how much in debt to you I am for the hundreds of times you’ve helped me,” I said.

How many years had we worked side by side, always fighting, always friends, but barely brushing shoulders? We had spent the night together more times than I could count, never once reaching over, never once asking the question that lingered in our minds every time we were alone.

And now I found myself kneeling in front of her, taller by at least a head, a warrior going off to fight an epic battle. I was softly touching her cheek.

My heart hammered away inside of it’s cage as I moved my fingers from her face and let them drift down to her neck, stopping only to read her pulse, wondering if she was feeling the same feverish, staccato frenzy that she had sent racing through me.

All the blood in my body was focused, listening, waiting for any movement from her.

I moved over the sensitive skin of her shoulders, and when she didn’t push my hands away, I let them run behind her neck, then back up again, tangling my hands in her soft brown, spiraled locks, claiming her parted lips in one startling swoop.

There were so many nights I had tried to sleep, this exact scene played out to the final cut. I had repressed this urge, finding the idea of it even too dangerous for a daydream. And here we were, in this place, trembling, and her skin chilled and moist from the icy mist, at the edge of what I’d imagined so many times before.

Her hands rested gently on my hips, and I drew her in closer, close enough now to feel the warmth beginning to rise from her own fever. Her breath was sweet and hot, and when we broke our kiss, steam rose into the cold air like a cloud.

We said nothing. There were no words, no words to be said in a frigid forest of only sense and sound.

Our lips collided again, and I closed my eyes. I needed my other senses now. I needed to hear the sound of her breathing, to understand the minute sensitivity of every curve and dip along her waist, along her stomach…across her chest.

I brushed my palms tentatively over her breasts. Her nipples rose to me, hard, tight, and aching. I opened my eyes to find that hers were now tightly shut, and I memorized the way her bottom lip trembled as I lowered my head to nibble on it. She returned my kiss and drank me in like rain, taking my breath into her own body. Her hands clung to my shoulders, melting the ice chips the wind had blown onto my back, warming me again…this time without the wand.

She fell into me, full body pressed against mine. Without warning I lay back against the ground, pulling her on top of me. Our breathing became ragged, hard, and heavy. Her eyes sparked, like two stars crashing and burning.

Her hands reached down with a soft, gentle press over my pants that were now stretched tight, and I was in liquid meltdown, a muddled pool of surrender, unable to withstand even the slightest touch without a groan. This glorious wild witch was pulling out the most hidden pieces of myself and wrenching them free. Her grinding hips were beating down onto me, one hand tracing my face while the other pulled at my zipper.

My hands came alive, and I began to peel her shirt from her. She didn’t wait for me to fumble with her bra, and she snapped the front open, lowering her breasts over my face, dragging her nipples over my burning lips, letting me nip and suck, the taste of her maddening me and making me hate the fact that I had to occasionally stop to breathe. Her hand slipped around my cock, and her gentle fingers stroked me as I raised my hips upwards, sliding in and out of her grip.

She slid down my body, taking my cock in her mouth, running her soft lips up and down the length of it. A vibration came from my eardrums, taking over my head. My cock emerged glistening from her lips with every thrust as I praised God, praised her, and praised the storm that had kept her there.

Holding back my release, I moved from under her. She seemed surprised at my sudden movement, but Hermione was wild, willing, allowing anything this night. I peeled off her pants, flinging them across the floor, and before she could protest I swam down, down to the soft tangle there, my face grazing her, tasting, lapping, and nipping the wet from her thighs. She held my head, her hands running though my hair, sobbing now, with both the shock and the surprise of this happy surrender. As my tongue tickled the hood of her clit, she cried out my name, fighting her own legs to stay apart and still I pressed and pushed and wanted all of her, my best friend turned lover, this burning witch split wide and moaning.

But the storm outside wasn’t over, not yet. And neither was ours.

The ice fell harder as the cold blew into the cave, but to us the night was ablaze, calling our names…the trembling deep, so fucking deep that it seemed the hours of endless plutonic conversation and restrained urges had been building up to this, as she bucked her hips and crashed into my mouth, coming, and begging me to take her completely.

She gasped my name, and I echoed hers as I moved over her, sliding into her. A low moan escaped from her lips and we began moving, at first slowly and easily. Too much, too much, and what I had always prayed for. By the time we began moving more quickly, rapture had overtaken us. Hermione was coming, and bucking and taking me out over the edge with her and the storm that was raging inside of me burst, a long, slow and screaming explosion…my thunder and rain not ready to stop, but I got lost in the sound of the night, the sweet burn of being inside of her as she held onto the blankets beneath us, her hair falling into a halo around her head.

I buried myself in Hermione’s body, feeling my sanity rip loose from its moorings as the power from the raging storm roared through my veins. When I came, I plunged myself as deeply as I could inside of her, my orgasm going on and on, until I collapsed in helpless release, completing this act of worship.

We lay there with our legs entangled, as incredible peace washed through us.

“Goodnight, my love,” I whispered to her, knowing that from now on, I too would carry the light in my eyes.

And the ice still fell, but we were warm. We fell asleep listening to the rain, our hearts beating like drums, with the forest as our silent witness…

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