Chapter 6
Part 2
"Up for a game of wizard chess?" Harry asked as soon as they walked through the door to Daniel's house.
"No, thanks," Daniel replied, walking down the hallway to his room.
He closed the door and fell face first onto his bed.
I'm dead.
He turned over onto his back and stared at the ceiling, willing his mind to shut off. When that didn't work, he concentrated on turning back time so that he could suggest another restaurant. He rolled over and stared at his clock and watched the minutes slip by, unaffected by his plight.
He was more than a little scared of his mother. Formidable was the term his father used to describe her, but always with an admiring grin, as if she was a challenge to overcome. He was too young to understand at the time what 'formidable' meant, or why it made his father smile, but it made sense all of a sudden. He'd seen the same grin on Harry's face at the café. He didn't understand the appeal. Daniel thought she was rather frightening when provoked and much prefered the easygoing mum he'd grown accustomed to.
He listened to the noises of the house as he lay there, predicting his doom. He heard the door to the lavatory open…
His mum threw open his door, hair wild like Medusa's, eyes glowing yellow and rimmed in black, lightning erupting from her fingertips…
Running water, followed by footsteps going past his door…
"You have no idea how formidable I can be…," she said, her voice a deep growl echoing around his room as she raised her hands in front of her…
Olivia's laughter, joined by Harry's.
"They are laughing at you, you know," his mother said, walking toward him. His hair stood up on his head as the electricity emitting from her fingertips got closer and closer. "They think you are a silly little boy, and so do I!" she cried, pointing her hands toward his broom, which was discarded on the floor.
"No!" he said as he watched his broom erupt into flames.
"Daniel?"
He bolted upright in bed and looked around, dazed, expecting to see his evil mum standing in front of him. Instead, he saw a darkened room. He looked at the clock and saw that two hours had passed in the blink of an eye.
He heard a knock on the door and heard his mum's voice. "Can I come in?"
"Sure," he croaked. He cleared his throat and replied in a stronger voice. "Sure."
He was relieved to see his normal, non-intimidating mum standing in the threshold of the door. "Hi," she said, closing the door behind her.
"Hi," he replied staring at his doomed broomstick. "Where did you go?"
"Where do you think?"
Daniel bit down a flare of irritation. He hated it when she answered a question with a question. But, seeing as how he had been a complete prat for the last few hours, he thought it best to bite his tongue. "To see Andres."
She nodded. "And I walked around for a while." She sat on the opposite edge of the bed. "Daniel, I understand why you did it."
Good. Then explain it to me, he thought.
"I guess I never realised that you…" She paused and cleared her throat. "Daniel, Andres and I, we aren't ever going to be together. He's been a great friend to me, but he can't take the place of your dad. No matter how much he looks like him, he isn't Miguel."
"I know," Daniel murmured. He tipped over and lay on his side, pulling his knees to his chest. He felt tears sting his eyes and his heart constrict. Hermione kicked her shoes off and lay down behind him, draping her arm across his chest in a comforting embrace. He swallowed, not wanting his mum to know he was crying.
"I'm sorry, Daniel. I know this isn't easy for you. You've had to go through so much in your short life," she whispered. "You know I'd do anything in the world for you, don't you?"
He nodded his head, sure that he couldn't talk just then.
"Everything I've done, everything your dad and I did before he died, we did with you first and foremost in our mind. It's strange," she said in the voice of someone voicing private thoughts aloud. "Being a parent makes you realise how selfish you are while at the same time you completely give yourself up for your children." Her voice became stronger, but no less tender. "This is one time that I'm going to be selfish Daniel. I love Harry. It amazes me every day. I never thought I'd feel this way about another man."
Daniel sniffed and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out what she was saying.
"You have to be mature for me here, Daniel," she said, pulling him to her chest. "I need to be able to tell you this and for you to try to understand it, even if you can't completely accept it just yet. Can you do that for me?"
He nodded in response.
"Thank you," she said, kissing the back of his head. "What I feel for Harry will never change what I feel for you. It is two completely different kinds of love. And, it will never change what I felt for your dad. It won't make your dad's memory less important. It will never keep us from remembering how perfect our family was." When he didn't respond, she squeezed him against her chest. "You still with me?"
"Yeah."
"I used to hate it when my parents said this to me, but it's true. When you get older, you'll understand. When you fall in love, this will all make much more sense."
Daniel held his tongue but silently agreed with her; he did hate it when she said that.
"Harry said you two had fun today. Did you?"
"Yeah," he croaked.
"He likes you very much, you know."
"Did he say that?" Daniel asked, excitement blooming in his chest.
"Men don't come out and say that kind of stuff, you know that. But the look on his face when he was telling me about what the two of you did today was pretty easy to read. He did say that he's looking forward to spending more time with you. The question is, what did you think of him?"
Daniel shrugged his shoulders. "He was okay."
"I'll tell him you gave him a glowing review," she said with humour evident in her voice.
"Okay," he said. Daniel threaded his fingers through his mother's, and tightened his grip on her. He remembered how, when he was very young, and then again after his dad died, that this had been the way he'd fallen asleep every night. He knew he was too old for this, but he didn't want to let go of her hand just yet, the inarticulate thought in the back of his mind that these moments of solitude with his mother would end once they became a part of Harry's family.
"Jo wrote me a letter," he said.
"Did she?"
"She said the first thing that went through her mind was that we would be brother and sister."
"Hmm," Hermione replied.
"Are you and Harry going to get married?"
"We've talked about it."
"Oh."
"This all seems fast to you, doesn't it? You leave for school and everything is one way, and when you come home for the holidays your world has been turned on its ear."
"Yeah, a little."
"Do you think I'm old?"
"What?" he asked, letting go of her hand and turning onto his back.
She propped her head in her hand and looked at him with an amused expression. "Compared to you. Do you think I'm old?"
"Is this a trick question?"
"No, and I won't get angry if you say yes. In fact, I'm counting on it."
"Then no, you aren't old," Daniel said suppressing a grin.
"Liar," she said, tickling his stomach. "To you, all this has happened in only a few months. But I've known Harry since I was your age. That's a long time - over twenty-five years."
"You are old," Daniel replied.
"Watch it," she replied, poking him in the chest. "When I started spending time with Harry again, it was like no time had passed. This relationship has been on hold, waiting, biding its time until we were both mature enough to accept it."
Daniel stared at the ceiling, trying and failing to imagine himself, Jo and Theo twenty-five years from now. Hermione lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling with him. "Hard to fathom, isn't it?"
"Yeah."
She moved from side to side. "I don't remember your bed being this cramped before. I guess you're getting too big for this." She looked at him. "I refuse to believe that I'm the one getting bigger." She nudged his shoulder with hers.
He grinned and rolled his eyes. "I'm not saying a word," he said.
"Good boy," she replied. She tucked her right arm under her head and stared at the ceiling again. "There's something else we need to talk about."
"Okay."
"I want to move back to England."
He was too stunned to speak. What was most surprising to him wasn't his mum's revelation; a part of him expected something like this. Later, when thinking on it, he would realise that the seed had been planted after he read Jo's letter. No, what surprised him the most was his lack of reaction to it. He didn't feel a stab of anger or jealousy or animosity toward his mother, Harry or any other adult that he'd ever met. His mum obviously thought his silence was a bad sign and she immediately began her explanations.
"I know this is a shock, but England is my home. When you are in school, I'm here, alone in this big house. Merlin, it's awful. It isn't as if we won't come back to visit. We can come for holiday in the summer, and I'm sure that Andres would love for you to visit at Christmas."
He could tell she was getting some momentum behind her justifications and knew that if he didn't head her off soon he'd be listening for a while. "I get it, Mum. I understand," he interrupted.
"You…you do?"
"Yeah. Why would Harry move here?"
"We aren't moving because of Harry," she said.
"Mum, come on. You just spent thirty minutes explaining about you and Harry."
"Well, yes, but I've wanted to move back to England for a while."
"And now you have a reason to," Daniel finished for her. He started to ask where they were going to live, but stopped short. He decided that he didn't really want to think about the fact that he might have to live with Katie Potter in a few short months. He swung his legs off the bed and stood up. There was only so much sharing she could expect from an 11 year old. "What's my punishment?" he asked, catching a glimpse of his broom.
"Your punishment?" Hermione asked, befuddled with the abrupt change in subject.
"Yeah, for…you know, Javiers."
"Oh, that," Hermione said standing on the other side of the bed. "Well," she said, her eyes following his to his broom. "I reckon you had a bit of encouragement for the whole thing from Andres. I'd like to delude myself that you wouldn't have gone through with it alone." She walked around the bed and picked up his broom. She hefted it in her hand and held it out to him. "Here."
He reached out for it and she pulled it back. "From now on, talk to us; don't try to manipulate us. Got it?"
"Yeah, got it," he said, taking the broom.
She walked forward and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him so tight he almost couldn't breathe. "I love you so much. Nothing and no one will ever change that." She pulled away and held him at arm's length. "Ever. Do you understand me?" she challenged.
Daniel looked at the ground, guilt from his earlier stunt washing over him, and nodded his head. He looked up at her familiar, comforting face. "I love you, too, Mum."
One corner of her lip curled up into a smile. "Good. Now, you need to get to bed, after you take a shower. You stink," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I'll see you in the morning," she said, opening the door to his room. "Good night."
"Night, Mum," he said with a small wave and watched as the sliver of light from the hallway disappeared when the door closed.
**
"Merlin help me," Hermione said walking into the parlour where Harry was sitting on the sofa waiting for her. She twirled around and plopped down, kicking her feet up on the arm of the sofa, her head landing in Harry's lap.
"How did it go?" Harry asked, running his hand through her curly hair as was his habit.
"Better than I expected," she said, eyes closed. "It's true that nothing prepares you for being a parent."
"Nope," Harry said, watching her face relax as he continued to stroke her hair. "But the good times outweigh the bad."
"Hmm," she said, holding his hand that was resting on her stomach. "I'm ready for some good times."
That can be arranged, Harry thought, looking down the length of her body. "Give it some time," he said instead. "Tired?"
"Exhausted. Mentally, physically and emotionally." She opened her eyes. "I told him about England."
"What did he say?"
She smiled. "He said he understood."
"Did he?"
"I was as surprised as you are."
"Do you believe him?"
She gave her shoulder a slight shrug. "Yes and no. I think he's trying to make up for tonight. But I also think that he likes you in spite of himself."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, affronted.
Hermione sat up, tucking her feet under her bum. She picked up Harry's arm and draped it around her shoulders and nestled into his side before placing her head on his shoulder. "I'm sure he tried very hard to hate you. Luckily for us you are a very likeable bloke. When I figured out what was going on at Javier's, I saw how mortified he was about it all. If he still disliked you, he wouldn't have cared. He definitely wouldn't have run off to the loo."
"I am likeable, aren't I?" Harry said.
"And so modest, too." She tilted her head to look at him. "Can I tell you how much I love you?"
"By all means," he said, studying the little golden flecks interspersed in her dark brown eyes.
She squinted one eye and looked up as if in thought. "More than all the books I've ever read."
"Not more than all the books in the world?"
"Same thing," she said with a grin.
"Wow," he said, eyes wide. "That's a lot."
"I have a great capacity."
"For reading or love?"
"Both. But here I'm talking about love."
"Good." He traced her jaw with his fingertips. "Think it's safe to kiss you?" he whispered.
"Where's Olivia?" she said, eyes on his lips.
"She grabbed a book from those shelves," he said with a jerk of his head toward the professional books, "and disappeared into her room a little while ago. Where's Daniel?"
"In the shower or in bed," she replied, placing her lips on his.
Let them walk in on us. If she doesn't care, I don't either, Harry thought before losing himself in her. He pulled her closer, the sensations and feelings that were part and parcel of his daily fantasies becoming real and urgent. His hand ran down her neck and across her chest, pausing to trace the outline of her breast, before moving across her stomach and down her thigh, resting on her knee for a beat before continuing back up. His fingers traced the seam of her trousers between her legs, pressing down harder on each pass. Hermione groaned before nipping his lip between her teeth and pulling away.
"We can't do that," she said, breathing heavily. "Not yet, anyway. Let's give him a little longer to get to sleep," she whispered. "And move this from the parlour to the bedroom," she finished, wiggling her eyebrows.
He moved his hand and kissed her again. "Here's hoping he falls asleep quickly."
"No kidding," Hermione replied with a grin, settling her head on his shoulder once again.
They sat in silence, watching the fire and enjoying the luxury of being together. Their separations were becoming more and more difficult for Harry to handle. When he wasn't with her, he thought of little else. When he was with her, he was so distracted by their looming separation and his unquenchable desire to have her that he rarely enjoyed the mundane everyday aspects of their relationship. As a result, he missed these times when he was away from her - sitting with each other, not talking…just being. A restless energy would overtake him and he would spend hours on meaningless tasks, trying and failing to occupy his mind until he realised that it was useless; until she was there, with him day in and day out, he would never be content.
"Hermione, I need you with me, all the time."
She sat up and looked at him. "What?"
He was as stunned as she was at his revelation. Not at the idea, but the fact that he'd voiced it and in such a direct way. Now he struggled to explain, knowing that he would most likely fail and sound like a needy boy. He resigned himself to giving up any power he had in the relationship by laying bare every insecure desire he possessed.
"I'm miserable when we aren't together. I'm constantly thinking about you and what you are doing, wondering if you are thinking about me, fantasising about what I'm going to do to you when I see you. I'm scared to death that something is going to happen to keep us apart, that you are going to wise up and dump me for someone more intelligent or handsome, or someone who's better at Quidditch."
"Yes, Quidditch ability is high on my list of attractive qualities."
"Don't take the piss," he said. "I'm serious. Okay, maybe not about the Quidditch, but everything else. I don't want to be separated from you anymore. We've told the kids, now what? We never got past this point in the plan."
"Why the sudden urgency?"
"I just told you why. I'll do whatever I need to do, but the couple of days together each week isn't enough anymore. At least for me." He watched her face, recognising the look of concentration she'd worn so many times during their years at Hogwarts. "Maybe it's enough for you," he said when she didn't speak.
Her gaze darted to him. "No, don't be silly. Of course it's not. I don't have a job in England and, as much as I love you, I can't move without a job."
"Is it about money?"
She laughed. "No, it isn't about money." She turned to face him fully, crossing her legs in front of her. "Here is the thing. I don't mind living together without being married. I'm not that conservative. But I can't move in with you without having a job. Everyone would think that I was moving just to be with you."
"And what's wrong with that?" he asked. "Or do you not want people to know how much you love me?" He tried to shift away from her but was caught between her and the arm of the sofa.
"No, Harry, it's not like that," she said, with not enough conviction for Harry's taste.
"Then what's it like?" he asked crossing his arms.
"For one thing, I can't imagine not having a job, even if it's only for a few months. Working, being a healer, is too much a part of me, of who I am. I would feel incomplete without it. So even if I take time off between, which I plan on doing by the way, I have to have a job lined up in order to enjoy the time away."
"What's the other thing?"
"Other thing?"
"You said, 'for one thing.' What's the other thing?"
She furrowed her brow in concentration. "I don't know that there is another thing," she thought aloud. "No, that's pretty much it. I have to have a job. I can't move to England without a job. It has nothing to do with what you said. We'll be living together, won't we? You can't get much more public about our feelings than that."
"How long is this going to take?" Harry asked.
"No idea. I can make inquiries now that the kids know about us."
Harry nodded, looking at the fire, lost in thought. "Then I'll move here in the meantime. I've always wanted to be a kept man," he said with a grin.
"You'd do that?"
"Be a kept man? Sure," he replied, shying away from the playful punch she delivered to his arm. "I can work from here. Ginny can owl me whatever I need. She does most of the work anyway. She just asks my opinion to humour me."
"Won't you be bored here, without your friends?"
"It's only going to be temporary. We are looking at a couple of months at the most, right?"
"Right. Most likely."
"I imagine I can find a pick-up Quidditch game somewhere here."
"Uh-oh, it's already happening. You're going to abandon me for Quidditch."
"Not for a few weeks, at least."
She grabbed his face and pulled him into a dramatic, smacking kiss. "Thank you for understanding," she said, a beaming smile on her face.
"You're welcome." He looked over her shoulder and out the door. "Reckon he's asleep yet?"
"Doubt it," she replied.
"Damn."
"I'll go check," she said, standing up.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his lap. "Not yet," he said. "I have an idea."
She raised her eyebrows. "I'll just bet you do."
"No, get your mind out of the gutter. About finding a job in England."
"Oh," she said, disappointed. "Okay, what?"
"I get the impression from what Ernie's been saying that Susan is getting burned out at St. Mungo's."
"Or maybe Ernie is getting tired of Susan spending all her time at St. Mungo's," Hermione interjected.
"Could be. Regardless, what if you talk to Susan about opening a private practice?"
Her brow furrowed in concentration as she stared off into space. "That's a thought. I always liked Susan."
Encouraged, Harry continued. "That way, you could have more flexibility with your hours, being your own boss and such."
She gave him a sly look. "And what would I do with all this free time?"
He shrugged. "Spend it with me?" he asked hopefully. "We have twenty years to make up for, you know."
"Yes, I know. Maybe we should start right now," she said, kissing him.
He peppered her lips with kisses. "If you insist." His hand, which had been resting on her thigh traveled up to her breast, and she immediately pushed it away. He moved it between her legs and she picked it up and placed it on her waist, all the while running her tongue around the inside of his mouth. He continued to move his hand around and she continued to thwart his every move.
"Harry," she said, laughing. "Stop it."
"Stop what?" he asked, in all innocence while his hand moved between her legs again.
"That," she said, picking his hand up and threading her fingers through his. "You randy fellow."
"Please. As if you aren't just as anxious as I am."
"I'm not. I'm a woman. We don't like sex, you know. We just suffer through to satisfy our men."
Harry gave a hearty laugh. "Now, that's the funniest thing I've ever heard you say. This from the woman who isn't happy or satisfied until I'm exhausted and incoherent."
"Are you complaining?"
"Hardly." He smiled at her and let his eyes roam over her face, one he'd never get tired of looking at.
Her expression grew serious before she said, "Harry, I need to tell you something."
"What?"
She took a deep breath and looked away to gather her thoughts. Her eyes widened and she said, "Daniel!"
Harry looked to the door of the parlour and saw Daniel standing there, in his pyjamas, a stunned look on his face. Harry felt Hermione tense in preparation to stand, and he tightened his grip on her to keep her in her seat. She relaxed, understanding his gesture and the reasoning behind it. She stayed seated. "Can't sleep?" she said to Daniel.
He shook his head. "I…," he started and stopped to swallow. He looked at Harry and said in a small voice. "Still want to play wizard chess?"
"Sure," Harry said, stunned at the gesture.
"Okay," he said, moving into the room.
Hermione moved from Harry's lap and he stood, thankful that there were no lingering signs of where his thoughts had been a little while before. Daniel and Harry began setting up the chess set on the table while Hermione settled on the other end of the sofa. "Care if I watch?" she said.
Daniel hesitated before saying, "No."
Two things became obvious to Harry after a few games. One was that Hermione couldn't keep her eyes open. The second was that Daniel wanted Hermione to leave the room. He kept looking up at Harry as if he wanted to say something before looking over at his mother and clamping his mouth shut. After Harry lost the third game, quickly and on purpose, he said, nodding toward Hermione who was asleep on the sofa, "I think she's done for the night, don't you?"
"Yeah," Daniel agreed, re-setting the board.
Harry went over to the sofa and crouched down in front of Hermione. He nudged her shoulder. "Hermione," he said softly.
She inhaled and forced her eyes open before looking around in a daze. "Huh?"
Merlin, she's cute. "Why don't you go to bed? Daniel and I are going to stay up a bit longer."
She looked from Harry to Daniel and replied, "Right," in a voice laden with sleep.
Harry stood up and stepped back as she rose on wobbly legs and staggered out of the room, almost knocking into the frame of the doorway as she went. "Night," she said over her shoulder.
They started game four, Harry trying to tamp down the disappointment of not getting to be with Hermione. He focused instead on Daniel and trying to figure out how to get him to say what was on his mind. Four moves into the game, after Daniel had been staring at the board for five minutes Harry said, "Did you want to talk to me about something?"
Daniel's head snapped up but he remained silent. "Or maybe you wanted me to do the talking," Harry offered. Daniel shrugged his shoulder in response.
"How about some hot chocolate?" Harry said, standing up.
"Okay," Daniel replied, following Harry into the kitchen.
"You're mum taught me how to make hot chocolate the way you like it," Harry said, waving his wand at the cupboards, which immediately sprang open to allow two mugs to float down to the counter while he was getting the milk out of the refrigerator. "You know, so I can try to get on your good side," he continued with a grin towards Daniel. A thick, white ribbon of milk poured from the jug into the saucepan, which began to shake itself gently over a low flame. "Is it working?" Harry asked.
"Depends on how it tastes," Daniel replied.
"Fair enough." Harry broke two chunks of chocolate from a larger bar and dropped it into the warming milk. "Leave it to your mum to use real chocolate. I've always used powder."
"That sounds disgusting."
"Well, yes, I know that now. She's ruined me for anything else." Harry looked at Daniel from under his eyelids. "I'm glad you couldn't sleep; I've wanted to talk to you."
Daniel squirmed in his chair and avoided Harry's eyes. Harry placed a warm mug of hot chocolate in front of Daniel and waited. Daniel blew on it and took a tentative sip. He nodded. "Good."
"But not as good as your mum's," Harry stated.
"No. But it's good enough."
"I'll settle for that." He took a drink of his chocolate and looked at Daniel. "For now."
He took perverse pleasure in watching Daniel squirm. It had taken all of his willpower to not punch Andres in the nose when he showed up at Javier's. Hermione told Harry when she returned from confronting Andres that the plan had been his, but Harry had his doubts. It was exactly something an 11 year old would think of; it was innocuous enough, but the intent to harm was there. His pleasure faded when he saw how truly uncomfortable Daniel was.
"I imagine Hermione explained everything to you."
He shrugged and said, "I guess."
"What are you most worried about?"
Daniel studied his chocolate and gave another shrug. "I don't know."
Harry leaned forward. "I imagine it has got to be strange seeing your mum," Harry paused, trying to find the right words, "with someone besides your dad."
"Yeah, a little."
Harry straightened up. "I wish I knew how to make it easier on you. Or even what to say. I don't. I can't imagine what you are going through. I've tried, but it's hard for me." Daniel's eyes narrowed. "Not because I think you shouldn't feel weird," Harry added. "It's just, I never had…" Harry coughed into his hand. "That's not the point. This isn't about me. I guess what I'm trying to say is that as much as I, and Hermione too, would like to make this easier on you and the girls, the fact is we don't know how. It is going to be uncomfortable for a while, I suspect." Harry gave a nervous laugh. "Thank goodness for boarding school, huh?"
Harry groaned inwardly as he realised how badly that had sounded. "Not that we are wanting to get rid of you or the girls. It's just…it'll be easier on you to get used to the idea if you aren't around us together all the time." Harry ran his hands through his hair. "Shit, Daniel. I'm making a rotten job of this, aren't I?"
Daniel nodded. "Yeah, you are."
"Now you see why Hermione was always the brains of the outfit. So, since I'm doing so horribly, why don't you ask me what you wanted to ask me." Harry grinned when Daniel almost choked on his chocolate. "You okay there, Danny?"
"Yeah," he said, wiping chocolate from the counter. "What makes you think I wanted to talk to you?"
"Let's just call it a hunch. Fire away. Ask me anything. Or maybe you wanted to tell me something?"
Harry saw Daniel gather his courage and raise his head to look him straight in the eye. "Have you asked my mum to marry you?"
"Get right to the point, don't you? You are your mother's son." Harry leaned on the counter again. "I haven't technically asked your mum to marry me. We've talked about it, but as far as getting down on one knee with a ring? No. Haven't done that."
"When?" Daniel asked. "When are you?"
"I don't know. I was waiting on you, I reckon."
"On me?"
"Your approval."
Daniel considered this. "If I didn't approve, then you wouldn't ask her?"
"I'd just have to work harder to get your approval. You'd approve eventually."
"You think so?"
Harry nodded. "Yes, I do. You probably haven't noticed since she's been a mite tense about how you were going to react to us, but the last couple of months your mum has been…happy. I know I'm happier than I've ever been." Harry felt a silly grin spread across his face. "Just thinking about her makes me giddy. I feel more like myself than I've felt in years. She's done that for me. She brings out the best in me. She's the love of my life. I can't imagine spending even a day without her." He looked at Daniel who had a grimace of incredulity on his face. Harry laughed. "It's incredibly cheesy, but it's the truth."
"When are you going to ask her? To marry you?"
"I don't know. What do you think? Valentine's Day?"
"That's cheesy."
"Yeah, it is. The key is catching her off guard," Harry mused. "I've always wanted to catch her off guard."
"Good luck," Daniel lamented. "She always knows what I'm thinking or doing or planning."
"Sounds familiar," Harry said, leaning on the counter and resting his chin in his hand.
Daniel drummed his fingers on the counter. "Do you have a ring?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. It was my mum's."
"Did Bridg…your other wife wear it, too?"
"No," Harry said, straightening up. "When Remus, a friend of my parents, gave me the few things they were able to salvage from our house - I guess he gave them to me when I was about 16 - I saw that ring and immediately thought of Hermione. It was quite a shock, truth be told. I was in what you would call the denial phase of our relationship. We'd been best friends for so long, I couldn't admit to myself that what I felt was more than friendly. And I was also worried that Ron fancied her."
"Theo's dad?" Daniel asked.
"Yes. It's a long story, and I'm tired. Another time. Back to your question. I never even thought about giving my mum's ring to Bridgette. Looking back on it, I guess that should have been a clue, eh?" Harry shook his head. "Just to let you know from my own personal experience, the cliché is true: beauty is only skin deep."
"What about New Year's Eve?" Daniel asked, eyes lighting up.
"I don't think I could wait that long," Harry said.
"That long? It's tomorrow," Daniel said.
"OH!" Harry said, excitement ballooning in his chest. "You mean this New Year's Eve? I thought you meant next year."
Daniel shrugged. "If you are going to do it whether or not we approve…"
"I didn't say that."
"Harry," Daniel said, sounding a lot like Hermione, "neither of us are very sure of what you said earlier. But I get the point. You love my mum and want to make her happy." Daniel rested his head in his hand, his eyes drooping. "What about Jo and Katie? Are they going to care?"
"Yeah, they'd probably be blindsided if I ask Hermione to marry me in the middle of a New Year's Eve party. So scratch that." Harry took Daniel and his mug to the sink. "Knowing me, I'll probably blurt it out one evening when we are sitting on the sofa." He turned to face Daniel. "One thing you will learn about me is I'm not very smooth. I try, but somehow it just doesn't work."
Daniel smirked. "Yeah, I kinda got that impression."
"Already being cheeky with Super Wizard, eh?" Harry said with a sly grin. Daniel's face immediately erupted into a fireball of red. Harry laughed. "It's okay, Daniel. I thought it was hilarious. I may not be smooth, but a sense of humour, I have," he said, slapping Daniel on the shoulder. "Come on, time for bed. We've got a big day tomorrow."
When they reached the door to Daniel's room he stopped and turned to Harry. "Thanks," he said. "For the chess games," he added quickly.
"No problem. I let you win, you know."
"Yeah, right," Daniel said. "I was being easy on you," he said with a grin before closing the door to his bedroom with a click.
**
Harry undressed without a sound, eyes fixed on Hermione's form lying in the bed. Her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, a peculiar habit that she'd explained weeks ago with a simple, "I'd suffocate under all this hair if it wasn't controlled. So would you," she finished, with a sly grin thrown over her shoulder.
He lifted the blankets, sliding under them in one quick movement and crossing the cold expanse of the bed to reach the warm river of her body. His body melded to hers, and he kissed her shoulder, resting his hand on her hip. She didn't move, and he didn't expect her to. He closed his eyes, content in being beside her and falling asleep with her in his arms.
"Are you just going to lay there?" she asked in a sleepy voice.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you. I know you're drained."
"Hmm," she said, pulling his hand off her hip and moving it between her legs. "Why do you think I took a nap?"
Harry smiled as she directed his hand beneath her knickers. His fingers slid through the wiry patch of hair and down to her warm center.
"Your fingers are cold," she said.
"Sorry," he replied, pulling his hand out of her knickers. She grasped his hand, and pushed it back down.
"I'll survive." She turned onto her back and looked at him. "Everyone asleep?"
"Yes."
"Good," she said, sliding his boxers down his hips. She closed her eyes and grinned as Harry's hand moved up and down, warming with every stroke. She reached out to stroke him with one hand, while she used the other to stroke herself. "This is so much better," she said with a sigh.
"Better than what?"
She opened her eyes and raised her eyebrows. "Doing it all myself."
Harry leaned down and kissed her. "I don't think I'll ever get used to you being so forward in bed," he said, pushing his fingers farther into her.
She caressed his cheek with her free hand. "Are you complaining?"
"Hardly," he replied.
"Nice," she purred, lifting her hips into his hand and closing her eyes again. Harry watched her face move through her different expressions of pleasure with her eyes closed the entire time. Once he saw the Cheshire grin, her top teeth biting her bottom lip, always leaving a little indentation below her lip when her mouth opened as she gasped, Harry knew that they had found it. Her eyes would open, glassy and vacant with pleasure, and her breathing would become shallow. This was usually when his eyes would close as her hand's rhythm increased to such a pace that he had to focus on control. There was no way that he could control anything while watching her.
She moaned and he covered her mouth with his. "Shhh," he said, when he pulled away.
She gave him the Cheshire grin again and cried out, "Oh, Harry!"
He covered her mouth with his hand. "What are you doing? Have you forgotten who is on the other side of that wall?"
She smirked at him and licked his fingers, still wet from being inside her. He lost track of what they were talking about as her scent wafted up into his nostrils and her tongue traced the outline of his fingers. "I put a silencing charm on the room before I got in to bed," she mumbled before sucking on his fingers.
"Of course you did," he said, ripping from her body the scant amount of material that she passed off as knickers. "Foreplay's over," he said.
"Hey! I liked those knickers," she said, watching them fly across the room.
"I'll buy you new ones," he replied, entering her in one fluid stoke. He closed his eyes and sighed. "That's what I've been waiting for," he said, burying his head in her shoulder. "God, I've missed you."
She wrapped her legs around him and tilted her pelvis into his, pushing him deeper into her. She lifted his head from her shoulder. "I love you. More than anything in the world," she whispered.
"Good," he said as he began to move inside her. His tongue delved into her mouth, making itself welcome. He tasted a mere hint of what she'd licked from his fingers, triggering his appetite for more. As it happened every time, an insatiable thirst for her bloomed within him. It pressed against his chest, stealing his breath, muddling his mind. His lips and tongue consumed her mouth, tasting - feasting - capturing every last bit of the only flavour that would satisfy him.
"This will never do. I have to taste more of you," he murmured, pulling out of her and descending to the source.
She stopped him. Her phrase ("I've got a better idea") had barely pierced his befuddled brain before he was on his back and she was kissing her way down his body. He propped himself on his elbows and watched her kiss down his right hip, his glistening dick erect in anticipation. Her thick, red tongue spilled out of her mouth, falling…falling…falling to the base of his cock, where it rested, warm and wet before flowing up his shaft. Mesmerized, he watched as it swirled around his head lower…lower…lower, until his cock was sucked into the warm wet whirlpool of her mouth. His arms collapsed underneath him and he thanked heaven for Hermione's silencing charm. "Fuck, Hermione!"
And she was there, hovering over him looking like the cat that ate the fucking canary. "Is this what you wanted?" she asked before shoving her tongue down his throat.
…and it was.
He flipped her over onto her back, the visual of her tongue replaying over and over in his mind as he sucked every last morsel of what she'd licked off his dick into his mouth. He was in her, moving back and forth, frenzied with the taste of her, the thought of her, the sound of her, the feel of her. Her heels dug into his arse, pushing him further and further in as she lifted her hips, again…again…again…she clenched around him and with a great thrust from each of them they came - sweating, gasping, hearts pounding, minds reeling.
Neither moved or spoke for minutes, Hermione enjoying the pleasant sensation of Harry's weight on her, Harry enjoying the feel of his diminishing dick still sheathed within her. A quick kiss on her shoulder and he moved off of her, flopping onto the bed in exhaustion. His hands fell onto his chest with a thud. "And that was you, drained physically, mentally and emotionally," he said. "You really are going to be the death of me."
She rolled onto her side and gave him a sweet, almost innocent smile. He wondered vaguely how two such divergent personalities could live within the same package. He was more than a little curious to know what brought on the transformation, if it was something he did, so he could be sure to do it more often. He was on the verge of asking her when she said, "I need to tell you something."
"That that was the best sex you've ever had?"
"Andres kissed me."
A flood of cold water engulfed him, paralysing him with anger and freezing all thought. He sat up automatically, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and stood with his back to Hermione. Why am I standing? he wondered, looking around.
"Harry?"
He turned to see Hermione sitting halfway up on the bed, the sheets in a puddle around her, her face full of apprehension and fear. His anger came rushing toward him, overpowering the cool façade he'd worn all day.
"Andres kissed you," he repeated.
"Yes."
"And why are you telling me now?"
"I tried to tell you earlier, but Daniel…"
"So, you decided to fuck me first, hoping I'd be so blissfully happy that I wouldn't care?"
"No! That's not it at all. I was half-asleep when you came in. I wasn't thinking of anything but you."
"Bollocks," Harry said, pacing. "You could have told me this when you got home, before you went to talk to Daniel."
"Harry, Andres was the least of my concerns…"
"He was a big enough concern that you abandoned me to bring the kids home while you chased after him."
"Now wait a bloody minute," Hermione said, standing up. "I did not chase after him."
"Oh, really? Sure seemed like it to me."
"Harry, you are overreacting."
"I'm overreacting? That's fucking rich, Hermione. This from the woman who a few hours ago practically threw a Daily Prophet at me. Oh, and let's not forget the scene you made the morning after the first time we made love. That's a great memory right there. Care to talk about that?"
"Sure. We can detail each and every one of my insecurities as soon as you own up to yours."
"Fuck you, Hermione. I think I'm allowed an insecurity or two when you chase after a man that is the spitting image of your dear, dead husband."
"He isn't my husband! I seem to be the only person who can separate the two! He doesn't understand why I just won't fall into his arms because he looks like Miguel. Daniel wants him to step in and pick up where Miguel left off two years ago. Hey! We won't even have to change the family pictures! And you! You strut around, bowing your chest out every time he comes around as if you are marking your territory."
"I do not."
"Oh, please. 'Ever fought a dragon, Andres?'" she said, mimicking Harry's voice. "What do you call that?"
"A legitimate question," Harry countered, crossing his arms over his chest. Hermione's eyes moved up and down his body and she suppressed a smile. "What's so funny?" Harry asked.
She twisted her mouth to stifle her smile. "It is difficult to have a heated argument when you're standing there, starkers."
"Fine. I'll get dressed," Harry said, bending down for his trousers.
"No, Harry, wait," Hermione said, walking forward and placing her hand on his arm. "Wait," she said, more softly, prying the trousers from his grip and tossing them on the bed. "Don't you want to know what happened? How I reacted?"
"No," Harry said, not ready to release his anger just yet. He caved under Hermione's understanding stare. "Yes."
"I bit his tongue."
"He got his tongue in your mouth?!"
"Harry," she said in warning.
"Don't 'Harry' me. How did he get his tongue in your mouth?"
"It wasn't some long passionate kiss before I came to my senses, if that's what you're thinking. He took me completely by surprise. It was quite ridiculous, truth be told. He swung me around as I was leaving and planted one on me. He'd barely kissed me before I bit him. If it makes you feel better, I think it was the tip of his tongue. That's where the blood was, anyway."
"You made him bleed?" Harry asked.
"Yes," she said, grimacing.
"Good. The next time I see him I'm going to make him bleed, too."
"No, you aren't."
"Why not? He deserves it."
"He knows where he stands now, Harry. He isn't going to bother us."
"He still deserves to have his lights punched out."
"You have to realise that we are his family, his only family. He loves Daniel and Daniel loves him. I want them to have that." She slipped her hand into Harry's. "But he'll never have me. You do and always will." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Harry lightly on the lips before pulling him toward the bed. "Come on, cuddle with me for a bit before you have to go to your room."
He allowed her to lead him to the bed and invite him in. He laid there, his hands crossed over his chest, staring at the ceiling, still not completely free of his anger. Hermione turned on her side to face him, propping her head in her hand. "Harry?" He turned his face towards hers. "I trust you, you know that, don't you?"
Harry nodded, not sure where this was coming from or going.
"I spent a lot of time thinking about my outburst regarding Bridgette. And now I see that my reaction to the picture was the same. It isn't that I don't trust you. I do. I don't trust Bridgette or any other witch out there when it comes to you. I know everyone wants you; everyone always has."
"They don't want me, Hermione. They want 'Harry Potter.'"
"Most importantly," she continued as if she didn't hear him, "I don't trust my ability to keep you happy."
"What?" he said, sitting up to face her. "You make me happier than I've ever been."
"And you make me happier than I've ever been," Hermione said, giving him a meaningful look.
"But," he started. It all became clear as he stared into her eyes. Her loyalty to Miguel, her heart, her need to know that the last 15 years of her life meant something, made it impossible for her to vocalise what Harry was reading in her eyes.
"I think that both of us are worried, because of our history, about our ability to make this work, to keep the other happy. But the fact that we've found each other again should tell us what we were too stupid to realise twenty years ago." She rested her hand on his heart. "I'm meant to be with you, and I always have been," she whispered. "Nothing and no one will ever get in the way of that again. I promise."
He covered her hand with his. "So do I."