Disclaimer: The same as it has been for the past five chapters thank you very much.
Author's Note: So this is the end! Y'all really need to fall down on your hands and knees and thank The Killers for this completed chapter, as I could not have written it without having 'Desperate' on replay all day.
Oh, and I've decided to propose to Linz because she has the most impeccable timing on anyone on this earth. THANK YOU LINZ! *buys you big diamond ring*
I hope this little treat helps you pass the time before the big day…single digits…
I promised I'd get it up in time…you can't penalize me now. J
*~*~*~*~*
He never thought turning sixteen could be this brilliant. He wished life could always be this brilliant.
And he knew that any second now, it would be even more brilliant, because he was damn well close to coming. And so was she. He could feel it, and it was the best feeling in the world. Their bodies were sticky and covered in chocolate, and his glasses were dirty as well, but who really cared about all that when he was about to have the best orgasm in his life. Of course it had to be the best. It was his birthday.
He felt her bring a hand down between them, so that she could touch herself. It was so damn hot when she did that. And then he felt her clench around him, and that was the end of him…
*~*~*~*~*
"Hullo! Harry! Were you listening? She's here!" Ron said this with a great big grin on his face, as if he had just offered Harry the entire universe for the bargain price of seven sickles.
He was pretty sure that there was a slightly constipated look on his face. Or how else would his face look, with all the thoughts that were jumbling through his head in that minute?
She's here. Why? How? Is she with Krum? Did she leave him? Does she still want him? Does she still want me? Did she ever want me?
Do I still want her?
"Harry. Mate. Pull yourself together!" Ron walked on over to his best friend and slapped his face slightly to emphasize the importance of the situation.
He frowned, the anger over…well, everything washing over. "I don't want to see her."
Ron rolled his eyes, exactly the same way she did whenever she was trying to be patronizing. "Of course you don't want to see her. Git…"
Harry looked stricken. "What's this? You're on her side now? Haven't you seen how I've been lately? She's the one that caused this!"
Ron shook his head. "I'm on nobody's side. And she isn't the one to blame here. None of you are. It's the circumstances surrounding you that have completely doomed the relationship entirely…"
"Our relationship is not doomed!"
"Aha! So you want to fix it?"
Harry got out from under the covers, and looked over at Ron who was starring at Phineas Nigellus.
"You're not answering my question, Potter. Do you still want Miss Granger, or don't you?"
He didn't very well know how to answer that, because well-he didn't really know. Also, it wasn't something that he wanted to be talking to Phineas about.
"Phineas, would you mind skipping off for an hour or so? This is a private conversation, after all--" Ron said, annoyed. He had been waiting for an interruption for sometime now-it was a credit to Phineas that he had kept his mouth shut for so long.
"Very well, I'll leave," Phineas replied haughtily. "But before I go, I daresay I wholly concur with your halfwit red-headed friend. You would do well in hearing that whippersnapper, viper of a girl out."
Ron looked about ready to throw the portrait out the window, but it was Harry who reacted with anger. "Very well Sigmund Freud!" he cried, jumping out of his bed and stalking over to the portrait. "How do you propose I go about this? Do I just go in there, tell her I hate you for everything you've made me suffer! But I love you! Let's shag and make up?"
"Precisely." Without another word, Phineas left the room, leaving a very baffled Harry behind.
He paced the room angrily, not knowing what to do at all. Every instinct was telling him to just go to her and beg like a cowardly puppy, but his brain told him that revenge was always a great thing...
The Sorting Hat was right. He was reacting like a SLYTHERIN!
"Harry, listen. You need to go see her. I know you think she's to blame for everything but…you need to talk to her, and understand, and…"
"What's there to understand? That she got bored of me and moved on to Vicky?"
Ron smiled. "You know very well that that isn't true."
"How am I supposed to know what's true if SHE WON'T SPEAK TO ME?" he yelled angrily.
"Look, she's in love with you, all right? You should hear her talk about you…she's IN LOVE WITH YOU. Completely mad, won't shut up about you, I love him so much I'll kill myself kind of love. She's been like this for ages now. And you should be thankful for it, because other blokes would love to be in the position that you're in…"
Ron trailed off at this, and Harry saw a flash of sadness in his eyes. It was gone before he could be sure that he saw it.
"We're on the same boat here, you and I, Harry. The difference is that you can jump off of it and swim ashore. I have to find myself another harbor."
He looked at his best friend, the doubt still in his eyes. He couldn't think straight, everything was a jumbled mess…
She loves me?
"Yes, she loves you. Don't doubt it. She won't speak about these things to you because, well, it's you she loves, isn't it? So that leaves the other best friend as the shoulder to cry on. And don't look at me like that. I haven't told you this before because it wasn't my place to say, but I'm getting a tad sick of all the melodrama and if we can just fix this and get on with our lives, I'm sure the Gryffindors would be ever thankful-"
"Ron? Harry?"
Ron stopped his tirade just in time to see Hermione appear at the doorway. He turned to look at Harry, who's skin color seemed to be changing into an interesting shade of purple…
If there had been some sort of machine that calculated tension--of any kind--Ron was sure it would have exploded by now.
"I think I'll be finishing my diatribe at a later moment. I'll be in the drawing room if I'm needed, you know, to heal bloody death wounds or anything of the sort…" Ron gave Hermione a quick nod, and behind her back, gave Harry a flamboyant thumbs up sign before exiting.
They stayed quiet for the longest time, just observing each other. He noticed that she didn't look at all the same way she did last Christmas when she came to him. Last time she had looked happy and messy. She looked thinner now, and her eyes were sort of hollow, as if she hadn't been sleeping much. It seemed as if she hadn't been taking care of herself at all. Of course, if he hadn't been as daft as he was, he would have noticed this for quite some time now, as things like this don't just happen over night.
In fact, her exterior rather resembled his own.
Despite the instinctive need to care for her, to feed her and lay her down and ask her to rest peacefully, that everything would be all right, there was still all this pent up anger within. And this anger was calling for a very melodramatic release.
His anger wanted him to stand there and scorn any type of reconciliation she might ask of him. It wanted him to watch her beg forgiveness, and then it wanted him to abuse his Lordly pleasure and smash her for everything that she had made him suffer. It wanted her to cry and plead and make passionate pronouncements of desperate love…promises that nothing of the sort would ever happen again…
Of course, that wasn't at all what happened.
She simply looked at him, with that look. The look that could still smash him into tiny little insignificant pieces while still managing to put him on some high pedestal on an even higher precipice. She simply looked at him with those beautiful sad eyes and said:
"I was scared."
And he gave in. Screw pent up anger and frustration! It was as if those three words melted away months of passive-aggressive torture. All along he had expected to make her feel like some sort of evil, scarlet woman…
Which was why he wasn't at all surprised that he now felt like the biggest prat in the world.
Of course she was scared.
He sighed. He didn't know what else to do. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights, as if by admitting this out loud she was somehow making herself vulnerable to some great evil. Which, in a way, she was…
He walked over to her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. It had been a while since he had touched her, and it was as if his body had been in withdrawal and was suddenly getting a full shot of heroin. She stiffened, but quickly he felt her relax against him, and he ventured enough to bring his lips down to her forehead and kiss her.
"I won't let him do anything to you. You know that."
She looked up at him, with those eyes of hers, and it was like getting kicked in the gut. But in a good way.
"That's not what I'm afraid of. And you know that."
Before he could get a word in to continue the conversation, she was all over him. Literally. She jumped on him, just like the first time. She was like some crazed snakelike creature that coils itself around its prey before stifling them completely. And through some supernatural miracle, he managed to stumble along to the bed before she really did manage to kill him.
He set her down, and despite feeling the initial rush and relief of having her all over him, he couldn't help the feelings of doubt. They really shouldn't be doing this. They had a ton of emotional baggage to work through…really, he had thought there would be some sort of spat and weeks of healing and rebuilding of the relationship before they got back to this point…
But it felt so damn good to have her in his arms. It felt so damn good to kiss her, and hold her close, and undress her, and feel her skin against his. They hadn't done this in such a long time…
She felt so gorgeous to him. All of her. Just as he remembered her. It was a pleasure just to look at her, and touch her…her collarbone, her lower back, her breasts…her thighs, and the space between them that made her squirm and sigh.
They hadn't done this in such a long time…he wanted to touch and feel every curve and crevice, just like he used to. He kissed his way up her right leg, and when he got to her knee, he bit it, just like he used to before he licked her insides…she laughed, just as he wanted her to, because he loved to hear her laugh, and he loved to know she remembered as well.
He wanted to make it up to her, just as he knew she did. With every hand she placed on his body, with every article of his clothing that she removed, with every time she touched her lips to his, it was like she was saying it out loud. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…
But she didn't have to be.
They were both breathing heavily, practically panting like dehydrated camels…and he grinned because he realized that they looked and sounded so desperate. Which they were. It was quite a contradiction, really, because he could never remember being so gentlemanly…so mindful of her…but at the same time, so insistent.
This was probably due to the fact that this was the first time he had ever done this with her, knowing that he loved her. And that she loved him. And that they were in love. And that they had almost lost this. They had almost let this pass…
His internal dialogue stopped when she suddenly stopped nibbling on his ear.
"Harry?"
"What?" he asked, in a slightly impatient tone. She didn't really mind it, because he looked completely ridiculous with his hair all muddled and his glasses all fogged up.
"You do realize that this is the first time we're doing this on an actual bed?"
She smiled, which in turn made him smile. As she reached over to take his glasses off, he indulged, and brushed the hair from her face, just like he always did. He then lowered his head and kissed her, and she coiled her legs around him. Ever the viper.
After a few more minutes of snogging, and groping, and rubbing against each other like crazed freaks, she managed to loosen her legs enough to allow him entrance. And he obliged happily.
It was quite unlike anything he had ever experienced before. She was very different…she had always been an eager little accomplice, but this time she was so...intense. Like she too had finally realized that they had almost lost this because of random stupidity.
She answered his every thrust with twice the usual force. It was almost like she was trying to permanently fuse herself to him…not that he minded the sentiment…her eyes were closed tightly, and brows furrowed severely, and she was perspiring so sweetly, and she ravished him like a savage Neanderthal…
He felt quite pleased with himself.
When she came, he felt it to the tips of his toes. She had never felt hotter, or wetter, and she had never clenched tighter, and she had never dug her nails so deep into his back before…but he didn't care, because she felt so good. She had to bite his shoulder to keep from crying out, and he remembered feeling pride and relief before he let himself go…
*~*~*~*~*
She was slumped against him, her leg thrown over him haphazardly, the blankets barely covering them. He felt pleasantly tired and tingly, and he couldn't stop from leaning his head over and kissing her everywhere every two seconds. It felt so great to be where he was.
"I was so scared," she began, biting on her lower lip. "I was so afraid that I'd have you, and then I'd lose you. That he'd take you away from me. I could never survive that…"
He nodded, bring one of her hands up to his lips and kissing it.
"Haven't you noticed it, Harry? Every time we've escaped into our little world…into our arrangement, we were always fighting time. They were always stolen moments of time, not really real…and that's what we'd be doing if we continue this. Fighting time. Fighting the inevitable. Because there will come a day when I'll have to say goodbye to you, and I won't know whether you'll be coming back to me. And I'm scared I won't survive it if you don't…"
She sighed, and buried her face in his chest. He didn't know what to say, so he kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips, her everything…
He didn't know what to do, except lie to her. And perhaps delude himself in the process.
"Everything will be all right."
She shook her head. "And what if it isn't?"
"Then we'll have an eternity to be together."
They were holding hands now, and she was stroking the inside of his with her fingers. It was a lazy caress, and it felt wonderful. Despite having just had a very depressing conversation, everything was wonderful.
Except, of course, for one thing…
"Why Viktor Krum?"
She looked up at him, or at least she tried. Her hair was obscuring her view. He used his nose to nuzzle it away. When they were finally able to look at each other without bushy obstacles, she sighed, and stared at him pointedly.
"Why Cho Chang?"
He rolled his eyes, and jumped on top of her. She squealed.
"You know very well there was nothing between Viktor and I! Ever!" she cried, wriggling around as Harry did a number on her neck with his teeth. "I was never eccentric enough for him, though at first he took me for one. Ohhh…"
He was now working on her breasts.
"Actually, I--I think he rather fancies Luna. Told me as much on that day in Hogsmeade…oh Harry…"
He stopped, an image of Ron and Luna laughing together enthusiastically over Butterbeers appearing before him.
Poor Ron. It seems he'd always be on the other side of Viktor Krum.
He felt something pinch his bum, and he cried out in surprise. Suddenly, inspiration hit him…
"Remember last summer, the day we got our O.W.L. results?" he asked, grinning naughtily.
"Of course…"
"Do you remember the triumphant ravishing you gave me up against the wall in the broom closet next to the drawing room?"
"Yes…" she said, blushing at the memory.
"How about we reenact it?" he asked brightly, bending down to kiss her collarbone.
Unfortunately, Harry's plans were stopped by a rather timid knock at the door.
"Harry? Hermione?"
It was Ron.
"I know you're both probably...err…preoccupied at the moment, but mum'll have dinner ready in a few and you know how she gets about promptness and all that…"
Harry sighed heavily. "We're coming!" he yelled at the door.
There was a snort in the room. It was Phineas Nigellus. "A little too late for that, isn't it?"
"Bugger off you perverted portrait!" Harry yelled with a mixture of horror and exasperation. Hermione shrieked and hid under the covers.
"Before I go, I am to tell you, on behalf of Elladora Black and all the other portraits that hang in the corridor right outside this room, that the next time you decide to engage in…whatever activities you have just engaged in, to use a Silencio charm!"
Phineaus left in a huff, leaving a very embarrassed Harry and Hermione behind him.
*~*~*~*~*
"Hermione…please…"
"No. I told you already, not while we're at Hogwarts."
Harry smacked his head down on the table. They were in the common room, two weeks back from winter holidays, and everyone and everything was getting back to normal.
Unfortunately, everything included, well, everything.
"This is ridiculous! Everyone knows about us! Why should we deny ourselves the perfectly understandable need to-"
"I said no. I'm a prefect. I have to maintain a certain level of respectability."
"Well its not like I'm asking you to go at it right on the table during breakfast or something," Harry replied grumpily.
She got up, sat herself on his lap, and kissed his nose. "You're so adorable when you pout. Now, back to Advanced Potions…"
He groaned aloud, and he caught sight of Ron sniggering into his Herbology text.
He promised himself seventh year would be different. He'd coerce Dumbledore into making him and Hermione Head Boy and Girl, so that they would then share a suite…
Which would make everything a lot more interesting.
Yes, seventh year would be different.
He sighed, looking over at Hermione's beaming face, and remembered what he told her at Grimmuald Place.
Everything will be all right.
For her sake, he hoped it would be.
But only time would tell.
*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Ok, so this might not be the end. I might add on futureish cookies, or even pastish cookies for that matter. You never know. I don't even know. I don't know myself. Still trying to figure myself out. I need therapy. So I'm not making any promises. Just…I might.