Harry awoke feeling a terrible pang of guilt over the way he had treated Hermione the day before. He really didn't want her to leave, but he didn't want her as a distraction. As it turned out she was more of a distraction after he kicked her out then before. He hadn't managed to write a single word after she left. He was determined to make it up to her today. With a new resolve he strode off towards the kitchen for breakfast.
He entered the kitchen to find Hermione pushing around the last few bites of breakfast around on her plate, clearly lost in thought, and an unusually subdued Ginny next to her. Ron and Mrs. Weasley were surprisingly absent. He piled some food on a plate and sat down across from Hermione.
"Where's Ron?" Harry dared to ask.
"Huh?" replied Hermione broken out of her thoughts.
"Mum has him upstairs cleaning up Buckbeak's room. She hasn't been too pleased with the job he's been doing," piped up Ginny. "I suppose I should go help him."
"I'll come with you," Hermione said bleakly. She got up and headed for the door following Ginny.
"'Mione, can I talk to you first?" asked Harry. He looked up at a waiting Ginny and added "Alone?"
Hermione nodded her head to the young redhead and sat down again while Ginny quietly exited the room.
"What is it Harry?" she asked wearily.
"I want to apologize to you for yesterday. I was a bloody prick, just like I have been all summer. I'm really sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?"
"You mean other than telling me what the hell is going on in that head of yours?"
"Yeah other than that, yeah," he meekly answered.
"You can stop pushing me away."
Nervously, Harry said, "Exactly what I had in mind. I want to spend the day with you, just you and me. I want you to come back up to my 'getaway' and I'll try to explain some of my actions, if you'll come."
"That would be very nice, Mr. Potter," she said with a smile.
"Thank you 'Mione. I'll be up as soon I finish my breakfast."
"I'll be waiting," she said with excitement evident in her voice as she left the kitchen.
A short fifteen minutes later he had reached the top of the spiral staircase to be meet with the breathtaking sight of Hermione surrounded by the yellow glow of the early morning light coming through the window. She turned her head, caught sight of him and walked up to him and gave him a gentle hug.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being such a prick 'Mione, especially yesterday."
She pulled away from him, he saw the pain in her eyes, but she waited for him to continue. He couldn't stand still, so he started pacing with his face down.
"I know I've been withdrawn and everyone's been worried about me, but I've had a lot on my mind. I really do want to stop being a jerk to everyone, especially to you and Ron. The journal helped me feel better. But so far I've only gotten the small, petty things written down. A lot I still need to work through. Yesterday I was going to try and tackle some of these bigger... issues, and I wasn't able to write a word. All these thoughts and emotions were swirling around my head, some of which I've been keeping bottled for awhile now." He looked up and found that she had turned the desk chair around without him knowing and was now sitting in it facing him.
"Anyway, you walked in and I was already frustrated not being able to get any of it out, and I thought your mere presence would have just added to my confusion. So I tried as best I could to ask you to leave, but you insisted on staying. I suddenly felt that you were violating my refuge, the only place I could get away from the constant prying questions and my trust in you that you wouldn't push me in here, that you wouldn't barge in without permission. And I reacted just like every time before, I pushed you away." He walked up to her, lifted her chin off her chest and looked straight into her eyes. "I realize that's the last thing I should do. I'm sorry."
She burst from her chair and crushed him in a hug. Tears flowed from her, soaking Harry's shoulder.
"I'm sorry Harry. I should have understood it wasn't okay for me to come here any ol' time like it was the common room."
"It's okay. I was the prat who should have told you how I felt earlier. I'll take you up on yesterday's offer, though," he said brushing the hair away from her tear stained face. "If you want to stay, sit and read, your more than welcome to."
"Thank you. I promise I'll be quiet." She gave him a quick squeeze before wandering over to the bookcase and scanning the volumes. He watched her pick out a rather large one, which didn't surprise him at all, and settle down on the rather large windowsill. She looked up at him and gave him a smile, which he returned.
He went over to the small writing desk and turned it from the wall so it faced her. He settled into the chair and opened his journal. All his fears, worries, emotions, and memories that he battled the day before began to swirl in his mind. This time however one of them stood out, demanding his attention. He could deny it attention no more, but the words were lost on him. His thoughts and feelings were too complex to put down in the suddenly imprecise written language. He glanced up at Hermione. She was leaning against one side of the window with one foot against the other side while the other was flat on the bottom of the sill. She was bent over the oversized book in her lap, face fixed with concentration, biting at her bottom lip.
He knew that the words wouldn't come, and figured that he shouldn't force them like yesterday, so he let his hand move on its own. He began to draw. The quill scratched against the fine paper in short, seemingly unconnected strokes. Slowly the picture in his head began to form on the paper. It was a drawing of Hermione curled up reading a book, in one of the large comfy chairs in front of the Gryffindor common room fireplace. The image he had seen hundreds of times, so burned in his memory that he wasn't surprised he could draw it so accurately from memory.
He glanced back up at Hermione, still occupied by the book. He dipped his quill and began to draw again.
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Many hours later Harry was finishing up the latest drawing. He managed to fill up dozens of pages with drawings of Hermione, all from memory. Now he was drawing her from sight, looking up at her on the windowsill ever few seconds. The sun, now on its way back to the horizon, was shining through the window at the perfect angle. It lit up her hair with a golden light, making the highlights sparkle. It fell across her face in a way that reminded him of an angel who was lost in thought, biting at her lower lip. The light even illuminated the dust in the air so shafts of light could be seen coming through the window.
He put the last stroke to paper and looked back up to her. He noticed that she hadn't turned the page for at least half an hour and began wondering what she was concentrating on. He knew that she had been deep in thought all day. At first he presumed it was the thick text in front of her, but now he wasn't so sure. Whenever she looked up at him she was smiling, and that alone made him feel better.
His stomach making a very loud growl interrupted his thoughts. She looked up at him with a look of amusement on her face and hopped off the sill.
"I guess we should take a break and get something to eat," she said. He nodded and they walked down to the kitchen in the comfortable silence they had been in all day.
They made themselves a light lunch that consisted of some sandwiches and a couple of butterbeers. They just sat and eat quietly. He didn't want to upset the tranquility that had surrounded them.
"I think I'm ready for that birthday party now," he said after he had finished his drink.
She smiled at him as if it was her birthday. He was sure that if there wasn't a table between them, he would have received one of her patented bone crushing hugs.
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The party was held that night and had been a wonderful boost to the mood of all those involved. Mrs. Weasley went overboard on the food as usual, enlisting Ginny and Hermione to help in the kitchen. They were unable to bake a suitable cake, so settled on making enough pies to open a shop. The smell of baking had invaded every corner of the dreary mansion.
After a wonderful meal that rivaled one of Hogwart's feasts, Harry enjoyed the onslaught of gifts. Predictably Moody got him a holster for his wand that strapped to his forearm. Charlie sent him a scale from the Hungarian Horntail Harry faced during the tri-wizard tournament, mounted on a necklace. Bill gave him a miniature version of Moody's trunk that he had come across in his work for Gingott's. Fred and George donned him with 6 boxes of their Skiving Sweets and a general's hat with a badge that read 'DA' on it. Neville, Dean, and Seamus had all chipped in to get him a dartboard with Snape's ugly face on it. Mr. & Mrs. Weasley had gotten him a pair of Quidditch goggles that were charmed for his prescription. Although they were obviously used, they were still in excellent condition.
Ron gave him a mixed bag of 'Backfiring Wands.' In order to get some, he had been the unfortunate test subject of the new product devised by Fred & George. The twins told Harry about how you swap the intended victims wand with one of theirs and it would send a hex back on the holder when they tried to use it, such as Jelly-Legs, the Furnunculus Curse, or Slug Belching. Ron groaned at the last one. Harry felt sorry that Ron had to go through that twice in one lifetime. The twins said that incident was what gave them the idea in the first place. Harry promised Ron that all the wands would be used for a good cause, mainly getting back at Malfoy and his two cronies. As great as all the presents were, he still liked Hermione's the best.
Now Harry was lying in bed, with a wonderfully full stomach, thinking about the day's events. He had really enjoyed the time he spent with Hermione. The image of Hermione sitting on the windowsill, cute as hell biting her bottom lip, fixed in his mind. He focused on her smiling eyes, trying to lose himself in those cinnamon pools.
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He heard a light squeak and a click. Almost silent footsteps came nearer. Fabric swished and landed with a quiet thud. The smell of vanilla mixed with pumpkin pie awoke the rest of his senses. He felt a weight settle on the bed next to him. Someone was gently rubbing his back. Lips pressed against his neck. Warm breath against his ear sent goosebumps across his skin. A hand on his shoulder rolled him onto his back. The covers were pulled away from him. A pleasant weight pressed into his chest. Soft hands held the sides of his head just before lips pressed against his. His mouth worked automatically opening and sending his tongue to seek its partner. The faint taste of blood lingered on the lips pressed against his. Silky hair fell all around his face as the kiss deepened. His partner pulled back. He opened his eyes to look for his partner.
The moonlight, filtered by the trees outside, drifted through the window and landed on the tender curves of a feminine body, accentuating her form. She was clad only in a functional bra and matching panties, which clung to her body and enhanced her beauty. He watched her cleavage rise and fall with her labored breaths. His eyes went up to her face that was surrounded by bushy hair that caught the light and gave her a blue aura. Her eyes twinkled like the stars outside. It finally dawned on him that this goddess straddling him was Hermione, and that she had snuck into his room. 'Damn that's sexy,' he thought.
"'Mione, I-" he said only to be silenced by her fingers.
"Don't say anything." She began to unbutton his pajama top.
""Mione-" This time he was cut off by her lips pressed on his.
"Shhhh. I want this too Harry," she said with a smirk as she continued to undress him.
He felt her hands against his now bare chest, her fingernails lightly scratching his skin. He didn't remember Hermione having nails. A small moan escaped his lips as she brushed against his stomach right above his waistband. He sat up, throwing his top onto the floor and embraced her. His lips brushing against her skin, following her collarbone, planting kisses every few inches. He reached around her and tried to undo the clasp on her bra. After a few failures, she pushed him back down on the bed, reached around and smoothly removed it herself. The garment joined the growing pile on the floor. He stared at her pert breasts bathed in the moonlight. He watched her nipples grow erect from the chilly air. He reached up and cupped each breast in his hands, feeling their weight and lightly squeezing them. He heard a small groan come from her. She was chewing on her bottom lip again.
He sat back up and held her close, feeling the skin of her chest pressing into his. He pulled her into a deep kiss, their tongues battling again. His hands wandered her body while they kissed, along her smooth skin, up and down her back, along her sides and legs, finally settling on her backside. He massaged her through the soft cotton, before plunging inside and grabbing her flesh. As much of her skin he was now touching, he wanted to feel more. He picked her up, turned around and laid her down on the bed. He grabbed the waistband of her panties and pulled them off her smooth legs. He kissed his way back up her legs. When he reached her womanly folds, he found her hand blocking him.
"Not yet," she whispered.
He leapfrogged her forbidden region and continued his trail of kisses up her body, briefly pausing on her lips before ending nuzzled on her neck. His right hand slid across the surface of her skin stopping above where he was denied to kiss.
"May I?" he asked, hoping he did sound like he was begging. He felt her nod. His hand continued the trek to the Holy Grail, his fingers gliding through her curly hair. She let out a gasp when he found the little bump of sensitive flesh right above the entrance. He sustained the kisses and gently nibbles of her neck as his fingers explored the new area. He felt her move under him, quickly learning where he could elicit the most pleasure with his fingers. After a few minutes and with her breath quite ragged, she pulled his hand away.
"Your turn," she whispered in his ear.
She switched positions with him before pulling the rest of his clothes off in one motion. She wrapped her fingers around his fully erect member and gingerly started stroking up and down its length. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensations she was causing. He felt he was hit with a jolt of electricity when he felt her tongue lightly touch the tip. The rest of the lightning bolt hit him when she put it in her mouth. She slowly bobbed up and down on it a couple of times before pulling it out.
He looked up at her, looking for an explanation, but she was crawling on top of him. She straddled his naked body with hers and guided his hard member to her already slick folds. Once she had positioned herself, she looked him in his eyes, bit her lower lip and impaled herself on him. His mind exploded with sensations and stars burst in his vision. He became aware of her grinding against him, sending new feelings to every part of his body. She gradually started quickening the pace and began to bounce up and down on top of him. Her breasts moving to the rhythm of her movements mesmerized him. Her reached out and took them into his hands, rubbing her nipples with his thumbs, eliciting a moan.
It didn't take much of her sliding up and down him before a tingle began to form around his groin. He couldn't hold back any longer. He began thrusting up into her, trying to match her rhythm. Soon her movements stopped. She was drawing breath in a series of gasps matched to his every stroke. She collapsed onto him, burying her face in his chest. He could feel her holding back a scream. He rolled them over so she was on her back again. Sliding back inside of her, he quickly resumed the previous pace. The tingle got stronger. She reached up and pulled him forcefully into a kiss with one hand, while the other encouraged his continual thrusting. He felt a quiver run through her body and her scream into the kiss, muffling it. He felt her muscles squeeze down on him and the tingle burst in an explosion inside of her. He collapsed onto her, feeling his member slowly continue to pulse. After he caught his breath, he gently slid out of her and settled down next to her. He put an arm across her chest and his head on her shoulder and slipped comfortably into oblivion.