Fighting For You
By Harrynhermione4eva
Disclaimer: I do not, by any means, own Harry Potter…you might want to check with JK Rowling on that one…
There she was, sitting there. Just sitting, knitting something. Harry could not tell what she was knitting. She was in her favourite chair by the fire, just knitting and humming some muggle song to herself. Why she was affecting him so much he did not know.
It had been a common thing lately. Then knitting-well yes, she had been doing that quite a bit too-but also this feeling like his heart dropped into his stomach every time he saw her. Usually he tried to push it out of his head. Lately that had become harder. Harry knew Voldemort could read his mind. He had to be careful.
At first it had just been simple things that seemed silly to go crazy over. She would reach across him during breakfast and her breast would rub against his arm. One time he needed to excuse himself from breakfast in order to take a cold shower. Of course, he hadn't told anyone. No one knew about this little crush he had recently developed-over the last year to be exact. It went away eventually. Then the worst happened. It was replaced by something much more horrifying-love.
He loved her. It was confusing though because he didn't know how to act around her. Yes, as stupid as it sounded (since she was only Hermione, one of his best friends) just Hermione turned into Hermione. Just Hermione, only she wasn't. She was so much more than that. It was a scary concept by itself.
That wasn't the scariest thought. After everything he'd been through, all the dragons, death, and facing true fear, Voldemort knew about Harry's obsession with Hermione. He was sure of it. Voldemort was the only one who knew, and it infuriated Harry. No matter how hard he practiced occulmancy, dreams would slip in every now and then. They had all been the same. Hermione would be in the library, studying for her NEWTs, and Harry would be searching for her to let her know it was time for dinner. She wouldn't look up from her studying so he'd lightly kiss her cheek to distract her. Confusion would over wash her face, but before she could say anything he'd be kissing her in a desperate fashion. She'd wipe everything off the table and they would have at it right in the middle of the library. Right on top of her favourite desk. He never visited her in the library anymore.
The last time he dreamed, he selfishly tried holding onto the image for too long before he heard a cold voice in the back, whispering to him. "I see your source, Potter," it would say. That was when Lord Voldemort knew.
What source? He pondered it for a few days before he figured it out for himself. She was his source for every need, every want…every desire. She held him together yet broke him apart. He could talk to her for hours about everything. She was his source, his love…something Voldemort could not do. Something Voldemort prevented him from doing.
Harry had sat her down around Christmas time, a year ago this month, and gave her a blunt version of the prophecy. Hermione was the only one he ever told. Ron was still his best friend, but he could talk to Hermione. She helped him carry his load. The speech had been quite brief before they were both a crying wreck, clinging to each other for dear life. That was when he knew he loved her. The way her hair clung to the tears on her face, and how she looked beautiful even though she had been crying. She had never been ugly in his eyes. Bookish, yes, ugly, never. He loved her for her beauty, and for her compassion. Never would she ignore him when he was down…usually. Most of the time she would push through the walls he had created, the walls that everyone else gave up on. He could always talk to her, and always had. She would listen, and he felt loved…and wanted. She was the only one who would put the rest of her life on hold for him.
And he never wanted her more.
The soft glow of the fire lit up her eyes. They sparkled and she looked so happy, as though the world was not falling apart around her. She looked up, suddenly, and smiled at him.
"Harry," she said, setting her knitting down. "How long have you been standing there?" She gestured for him to sit on the couch opposite her.
"Not long." He blushed as he sat across from her. To think she caught him staring at her. "What are you knitting?"
"Oh, just a sweater for Dobby. I figure I ought to finish it quick so I can do Winky's before Christmas." He nodded vaguely. She narrowed her eyebrows. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Yes there is."
"No, it's nothing."
"Harry you can tell-"
"I don't want to talk about it," he snapped. For a moment she looked shocked, as though he had slapped her. She only nodded stiffly and returned quickly to her work, concentrating hard on the needles and knitting it the muggle way.
Harry sighed. "Look Hermione, I'm sorry."
She only shrugged, not looking up at him. They sat in painful silence for what seemed like hours. Ten minutes later she put her work down and looked up at him. Tears were streaming her cheeks.
"Why do you do this, Harry?"
He was confused. "What do you-"
"You know what I'm talking about. Why do you push me away?"
"Look, I said-"
"I know what you said, Harry, and I know that you're up to you head in insurmountable stress, but why won't you let me help you?"
"But I tell you everything."
"Not lately you haven't." She looked down at her hands. "You've pushed me so far from you lately."
She was right. He had tried to push her away. It was the only way he would know she was safe. Staying as far away from her emotionally as possible was best for the both of them…right?
"I don't know what to do anymore." He said this more to himself than to her. Shaking her head, she moved to sit next to him on the couch and took his hand in hers.
"Harry," she stroked his hand. "The only way to get through this is to talk about it."
Harry looked down at their hands and felt his throat close around his voice. "He's listening you know."
"Shh," she murmured, stroking his hair now and pushing the hair on his forehead aside to reveal his scar. "He can't hear us."
"Yes he can!" Harry screamed, standing up hysterically, trying to put as much distance between them.
"You don't need to whisper because he can hear everything I hear." She tried reaching for him, but he dodged behind the table. "He hears everything going on in my head too." Hermione cornered him, "and he knows everything you think too."
"He can't touch my thoughts."
"Yes he can," Harry sobbed frantically. "He knows all about you."
"Did he tell you this?" She got closer to him.
"I know he's capable of it." She stepped even closer.
"He can't touch me." Her face was inches from his.
"You don't know that."
"Yes I do." She tilted her head and brushed her lips against his.
"He can see us." Hermione shook her head so that her hair tickled his cheeks and her nose bumped his.
"If you love me as much as I love you, he can't touch us." She leaned in again until her lips had covered his, and he almost died.
Almost
He kissed her back for a moment, and then pulled away.
"Why are you doing this to yourself," he asked her. "I don't want anything to happen to you."
"Harry, kiss me." In an instant, he found himself pinned up against the wall. Hermione was kissing him desperately. Soon enough he kissed her back, and wound his arms around her waist. He tried to draw her closer to him as she deepened the kiss. There was no going back. He was all ready drowning.
She grappled at his shirt, his arms, trying to pull him closer to he. He flipped them around so he was pressing her into the wall. All of a sudden, the breasts that had given him a small erection before now gave him a full-fledged hard on.
She gasped for a moment before she resumed their kiss. Before he knew what was happening, their shirts were on the floor…wait…
"Hermione," he moaned. She shut him up by slipping her tongue into his mouth as he fumbled with her bra. Soon the bra joined the pile and he kissed her hard, cupping a breast in his hand. She gasped again as he rolled it around in his hand, not really knowing what to do. Luckily it was Christmas and everyone had gone home, or else the Head Girl would get in big trouble for fornicating with the boy-who-everyone-expects-to defeat-the -Dark-Lord. He ground his erection into her pelvis and was rewarded with a deep groan that flew through every nerve of his body.
He picked her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and carried her clumsily to the boy's dorm. They had to stop a few times on the stairs to kiss, but eventually made it to Harry's room where Harry threw her unceremoniously onto the bed and moved to jump on top of her. He devoured her lips in his own as she groped for his belt, pulling his jeans and boxers down. Wincing, his erection slid along the fabric and almost came when her hands brushed against him. She was a curious person. There was no doubt in his mind that she was any different in the bedroom. He hissed as she caressed him, and clenched his teeth when he moved her hand from him.
"Not yet." He gave her a kiss of assurance and moved the kissed down her body, pulling her uniform skirt and knickers down her legs, slipping them off her feet. Looking up, he could tell she was blushing. Never in his life had she looked more beautiful, blushing at him like she was now. She turned ten shades darker as he kissed up her leg and inside her thigh before he reached her center. He stopped abruptly, realizing no one had ever touched her like he was. No one had come close…
"You're a…you know…right?"
She looked down at him an nodded. Relief flooded his body.
"Me too," he murmured before he kissed the inside of her thigh and inward, until he could no longer handle himself and let his tongue go.
Her legs went limp, yet they widened, and her hands reached down to pull him closer. They tangled in his hair as he licked her. Her head flew back, deep moans escaping her lips as her body writhed beneath him. It wasn't long before he knew she was gone…and it was all because of him. Her body tensed up and she let out a long scream, letting him know he had just made Hermione Granger come.
He felt like he could conquer the world.
Blindly, he crawled up her body and fumbled a bit before he slipped into her, getting stuck for a moment and panicking.
"You need to do it quick," Hermione muttered through clenched teeth as though she were expecting the worst. He backed his hips a bit before he slammed into her. She was so warm, so tight. He almost died.
A sharp cry of pain sobered the high he was feeling as he looked at her face contorted in pain.
"H-Hermione…" he stuttered, afraid that he hurt her.
"Just stay there." She gripped him even tighter, and buried her head into his neck, sobbing slightly. Then it hit him.
"Oh, Merlin. I'm sorry, Hermione."
"It's okay," she let out a long breath and lessened the grip. "I think you can move now."
He did. He pulled out of her and slid back in, and slow. Her eyes fluttered shut as she relaxed, letting her body fit between the bed and his body. He could feel his own orgasm building up quickly as he pushed into her faster now. Hermione was panting and moaning loudly as their hips slapped together in a frenzied coupling. He continued to slam into her and looked up, seeing her in pure ecstasy. She looked at him with dark eyes glazed over…and lost it. Everything he had felt in the last seven years spilled into her that moment as she whispered his name, placing sweaty kisses along his scar, his cheek, dragging his lips and tongue between her teeth. His hips slowed down and he collapsed on top of her. Hermione clutched his sweaty body to her own as she rode out the last few waves of pleasure. A pleasant hum filled the room.
They lay there, taking in everything that had just occurred. She stroked his hair with his head buried in her neck. Her scent burned itself into his memory.
She nuzzled his neck and hummed contently, creating an odd sensation with his all ready numb body. It was a pleasant feeling.
"Harry," she murmured. The hot air on his neck was making him hard again.
"Yeah?" he groaned.
"You're not going to get rid of me."
He sighed. "I know."
~^*^~
It was in the 30s, pushing 38. Laying in bed was enough to make a person sweat. Harry was an exception. Being seventeen had its advantages.
His wand was propped on the bedside table, shooting cold air in his direction. The cool air was relieving, but could do nothing for his overwhelmed mind.
No cards, no phone calls…Ron knows how to use the telephone now, wouldn't he want to call me just to use the phone?
He didn't even want to think about Hermione. Thinking about her brought up a whole new topic.
Hermione Granger, the most brilliant mind to grace the planet, yet she had no clue. He could trust her with his life, yet, the mere thought of calling her up scared him. What would he say, "Hello, Hermione. I fancy you. What do you say about a quick shag? I can fly to your house." No…small things first. There were no small things when it came to how he felt for her. All control he had over his mind was failing, and he had to return it somehow. It was too risky.
Any love he had for her he converted to anger. Protecting her was vital. Voldemort could not find out.
Suddenly something small and quite squirmy landed on his face. Harry jumped up and Pig took off, fluttering erratically around his head. Harry sighed and managed to pluck the letter from the bird's twitching let.
"Go sit with Hedwig." The small bird flew toward the cage of the large snowy owl, easily fitting through the bars. Hedwig gave a soft hoot and scooted over. She seemed to always like Pig's company.
Harry turned back to the letter. It was obvious from the chicken scratch that Ron had written it…
Harry-
Hey mate! Happy birthday! We're both men now, eh? Hermione probably disagrees, but Dad says he might steal you away from the Dursleys a day early to get your apparition license. I don't know if others approve, though. Dad still needs to talk to him.
He says I shouldn't write any letters (which is why me and someone else haven't written or rung you all summer.) You know the story. Dad doesn't know about this letter. Make sure that Pig gets back to me by morning, okay?
Well, I guess I'll see you in a couple weeks. Don't go around doing too much magic now that you can legally…I expect the muggles wouldn't like it so much. You can always give Dudley a pig snout though. I think it would suit him quite well. Take a picture of it when you do.
Happy Birthday Harry,
Ron
Harry smiled slightly, but then frowned again. He hated that he couldn't send messages to his friends. He hated that he couldn't get his apparition license until he was escorted to do so. He really couldn't stand the fact that he would be cooped up at the Dursleys for another month. His thoughts drifted back to Hermione.
Less than a month till he got to see her.
~^*^~
"I can't believe you two have your apparition licenses."
"Yeah. Too bad you can't get your until the end of the month, eh?" Hermione shot Ron a glare as Harry stared out the window…trying to think of anything but her.
"I still can't believe Ernie McMillian is Head Boy."
Ron grumbled something under his breath before Hermioine chirped back in. "Oh, I can't believe this is our last year of school."
"Yes, its so sad," Ron quipped. He turned to Harry.
"You still thinking of Auror, mate?" Harry looked up, being thrown out of his daze. He wasn't in the greatest mood after hearing that Malfoy was once again a year behind him…in quidditch that is. Malfoy was the new Slytherin quidditch captain…not that he shouldn't have seen it coming…
"What?"
"I said, you still thinking of being an Auror?"
"Yeah," Harry said harshly, "or, you know, get myself killed by Voldemort or something."
"Harry…"
"You know what, Hermione? Can you just leave me alone…the both of you," he added when Ron was about to say something. There was evident hurt in her eyes, but as long as he could keep her away from him…
"Fine, I'll go do rounds. I should have done one ten minutes ago, but I was trying to talk to you, Harry." She stormed out of the compartment. Ron and Harry both stared after her.
"Nice going mate."
"She'll be back." She didn't come back for the whole train ride. Instead, they saw Neville, Dean, Seamus and a few other Gryffindors, making light conversation with them.
When they finally reached Hogsmeade, Harry got off the train and immediately saw a tear-stained Hermione entering one of the carriages with Ginny. The youngest Weasley glared at him before he got into a separate carriage with Ron.
The ride to the castle was very quiet.
-->