Make Like Strangers - Directions

Directions

“We’re lost, Harry,” Hermione said in frustration, blowing air through thinned lips. The directions in her lap wrinkled as her fist clenched and unclenched around it.

“We are not lost,” he replied, squinting his eyes behind his glasses as though that would help him to see any better through the pounding rain. The windshield wipers were on full tilt and they still couldn’t keep the rain off the window. “We’re just misdirected.”

“Whatever,” Hermione growled, “but we should have been there 35 minutes ago. You know how much I hate being late!”

“I’m sure the party will go on without the presence of Miss Hermione Granger,” Harry said, getting angrier by the minute at her incessant whining. But as frustrated and angry as he was at the whole situation, he regretted saying it the moment the words came rolling off his tongue.

Hermione looked over at him, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. “I can’t believe you said that….”

“Look,” Harry said fighting with the wheel, “I’m a little too busy right now to worry about whether or not your feelings are hurt, okay? I’d like to get us there in one piece.” He took his foot off the gas and slowed the car down considerably. He didn’t like this road at all. It was dark, there were no lights anywhere of any kind, and they were on a two-lane road in the middle of nowhere, and they were driving down said road in a torrential downpour. To say he was a bit nervous was an understatement.

“If we ever get there,” Hermione said under her breath.

“I’m sorry, okay! But we’ve been late before. And I’m sure it won’t be the last time. So get over it.”

He was angry now. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but instead folded her arms across her chest and looked away from him out the window.

“I still don’t understand why we’re driving a car,” Hermione said after a few more tense minutes of silence. “We could have apparated or used the Portkey that Ginny gave us….”

“You know perfectly well why,” Harry said with a grimace. “I’ve always wanted to drive. Why do you think I was so hot to take my driver’s test the other day? And I passed the first time, didn’t I? So what’s the problem? Besides, driving was supposed to have given us a little more time together, although I’m not sure that was such a good idea anymore.”

“The problem,” she said looking at him with one of her best scolding glances, “is that as a wizard, it’s just so impractical. Especially since we’re going to a wizard’s home. It just doesn’t make any sense to me.” She looked out the window again. “And we spend a lot of time together as it is,” she muttered irritably.

Harry afforded her a side glance and grinned slightly. She looked so cute when she pouted. Now that he felt like he had the car under control, he reached out and put his hand on her leg, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Hermione looked at his hand, then up at him. He gave her a soft smile, one that he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist. And he was right. She tried valiantly, but after a few seconds, she grinned back at him and put her hand over his.

They were quiet for almost ten minutes when Harry slowed the car almost to a stop at the side of the road. Hermione looked over at him. “Okay. I admit it,” he said dejectedly, hanging his head in shame. “We’re lost.” All the men of the world forgive me for my admission. I’m so ashamed.

Hermione suddenly burst out laughing. Harry looked over at her, surprised at her outburst. “I’ve been trying to tell you that for the last hour!” she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

Harry was perplexed. He hugged her back, but only because he couldn’t decide if her laughter was out of delight, relief, or if he was about to be hexed within an inch of his life.

She pulled away from him and sat back in her seat. “We might as well keep driving until we find a gas station or something,” she said. Harry, still eyeing her suspiciously, nodded in silence. He faced forward again and put the car in drive and pulled back onto the road.

After another 20 minutes of pounding rain, dark winding roads, and silence, they finally came to a crossroads. And to their luck, there were two gas stations on opposite corners from each other. Harry turned the car into the first one and pulled up to the curb. Hermione unbuckled her seat belt and made to get out.

“Where are you going?” he asked her.

She looked at him as if he had just asked the dumbest question that had ever been asked. “I’m going to get directions.” Harry looked outside into the pouring rain, then back at her. “Yeah, so, it’s raining,” she said, and opened the door. She giggled with delight as the cold rain hit her body, drenching her immediately. She ran inside the convenience store, the door slamming shut behind her.

Harry couldn’t help but to smile. He loved the sound of her giggle more than anything in the world. Well, almost anything. The sounds she made when they were…don’t go there, Potter. Best not to think about that right now.

“Right,” he said quietly, sitting back in his seat. He put both hands on the wheel as he watched the rain pelt down on the windshield. His eyes traveled over to the gas station diagonally across from where they were and he decided to run over to get a second opinion on those directions.

Looking back at the door through which Hermione had disappeared, he undid his seatbelt and opened the door. The rain was cold and pelted his body like a thousand tiny bludgers. He slammed the car door shut and took off in a sprint across the intersection. Skidding to a stop in front of the small building, he quickly went inside and smiled at the man behind the counter.

Not more than five minutes later, Harry was back at the car, soaked from head to toe. He hadn’t bothered to run back…he was already drenched. He couldn’t get any wetter if he’d wanted to. He opened the door and started to get into the car when he noticed that Hermione wasn’t back yet. It had been almost ten minutes. Where is she?

The familiar feeling of panic that he associated with her not being where she was supposed to be spread through him. Yes, the war had been over for years, the threat was over. Even all the Death Eaters had been rounded up or killed. But where she was concerned, she was never safe enough for him. Of course, he’d never tell her that.

He closed the car door and headed into the convenience store. As he entered, he saw her standing at the counter, still talking with the old man behind the counter. They were having a very animated conversation about something that had her laughing heartily.

And as Harry looked at her, his mouth began to water. She was wet. Soaked. Saturated. And those words associated with Hermione did something horrible, well maybe not so horrible, to his entire body. Feeling the familiar and seemingly ever-present stirring in his groin, he snuck down the small aisle and approached her from behind.

He stood directly behind her, and catching the old man’s eye, he grinned as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “you’re very wet.” Hermione gasped and spun around. Harry’s eyes traveled from her eyes to her slightly parted lips to the glistening column of her throat, then down further to the plunging neckline of her purple shirt. Oh dear Merlin…her um, does she know that her…she must be cold.

Hermione was eyeing him as well. His shirt was stuck to him like a second skin, revealing a very nicely toned chest and arms. And his shoulders…don’t go there, Hermione. Not now. You’re late, remember? As her eyes traveled lower, they widened slightly and she involuntarily licked her lips at the sight of his erection straining against his soaking wet trousers.

Letting out a slow, calming breath, she looked him in the eye again and cocked her head to one side. “Excuse me?”

Harry grinned. He knew they were both thinking the same thing. He leaned closer to her, their lips almost touching. “I said, you’re very wet.”

She shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. Damn him, damn him, damn him! How does he do this! “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she whispered seductively.

“Um,” the old man behind the counter cleared his throat, “excuse me, missy. Is he bothering you?”

Hermione and Harry stared lustfully at each other, fighting the urge to push each other to the floor right then and there and shag each other senseless. “What?” came out of her mouth but it was only in a hoarse sort of whisper. She blinked and stepped away from Harry turning back towards the counter. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Is he bothering you?”

Hermione smiled as she felt a blush creeping up into her cheeks. “Maybe a little, but,” she raked her eyes over Harry before she looked back at the old man, “he looks harmless enough.”

She suddenly felt herself being pulled by the hand towards the door. “Do you know him?” the old man asked, standing and leaning on the counter to watch them.

Hermione looked back at him with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Don’t think that matters now does it? Thanks for the direc….”

Then she was gone. The old man stared at the door for a minute, then shrugged. He sat back down and picked up his newspaper again. “Kids.”

Outside, Harry had opened her door and practically pushed her inside, climbing in after her and slamming the car door shut. “Harry, what on earth are you….”

He silenced her with a searing kiss that stole her breath. The middle arm rest was pushing painfully into her back as Harry pushed down against her, not nearly close enough to her for his liking. His knees were on the floor in front of her seat and he was holding her arse tightly against his hips, her legs wide on either side of him. His lips lazily traveled along the wet column of her throat, his tongue trailing along the tendon up to her ear where he sucked on her earlobe. “Harry, stop…Harry, please….”

Pulling back to look at her, Harry’s eyes were wild with passion. “I need you,” his mouth covered hers in a hard, frantic kiss, then his lips moved back down to her throat. “Now.”

Hermione, as much as she hated to do it, put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him away from her. “Harry, stop.”

His breathing was ragged and fast, his face a mask of confusion and frustration. “What? Why?”

“Not here,” she said, trying to sit up. “It’s too awkward. And you’re hurting my back.”

Frowning, Harry pushed himself up as far as he could so she could get back in her seat. “Sorry,” he breathed, leaning forward and resting his forehead against her heaving chest. “I’m just….”

“It’s okay,” she said down to him, her fingers slipping through his rain-soaked hair. “Let’s just go somewhere else.”

He let out a slow breath, then climbed into the driver’s seat, his long legs making him look very awkward and almost comical as he did so. She watched him with unabashed amusement as he tried to turn himself around in the small space. He might have had more luck if they’d had a bigger car, but having only the two seats made space almost nonexistent. As it was, his legs were almost too long to let him drive comfortably. I just had to have the sports model, didn’t I? I’m such a prat.

Finally getting his limbs untangled, Harry sat in his seat facing front. “Well done,” she teased.

He looked at her and grinned. “Just call me Mr. Graceful.” She chuckled and Harry started the engine. The rain had not let up at all as Harry pulled the car back onto the highway.

She reached over and put her hand on his leg, slowly running it up and down the length of his thigh. He let out a deep groan. “Must you do that?” he asked. “I’m trying to concentrate here.”

Hermione removed her hand and chuckled softly. “Sorry, luv.”

They drove on in silence for another few minutes, looking for the turn off the man at the convenience store had told them they had to watch for. The rain was letting up finally, but still not enough for Harry’s liking. He was beginning to think Hermione had been right…as usual. Next time, just apparate. Why does that sound familiar?

They were coming up to a well-lit junction—about time!—and Harry slowed the car down so they could read the signs. “We turn left here,” Hermione said, looking down at her notes.

Harry came to a stop at the stop sign and after checking for oncoming traffic—that’s a laugh...haven’t seen another car for an hour—turned the car left. The glow from the street lights disappeared as they rounded the corner, plunging them into darkness once again. Coming up on their right was a small building. “Looks like that’s been out of business for awhile,” Harry said as they looked at it in passing.

Suddenly Hermione jumped. “Harry stop!” she shouted.

“What!” He slammed on the brakes and the car skidded to a halt in the old café’s parking lot. “Bloody hell, woman, don’t do that!”

“Do you see what I see?” she asked, pointing across the parking lot to a phone booth set back against the slight overgrowth of trees and bushes.

“Yeah, so?” Hermione rolled her eyes and turned in her seat to face him. “A phone booth. So?”

She reached forward and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him toward her and kissing him for all she was worth. One of her hands let go of his shirt and grabbed his crotch, moaning in his mouth when she found that he was still hard.

When she pulled away, the look in her eyes told Harry all he needed to know. He got out of the car, and ran around to her side. He opened her door, and then like a couple of school kids, ran, hand-in-hand, toward the phone booth.

Harry let her go in first, then he squeezed in and closed the door behind him. They were on each other immediately. Hermione reached under her skirt and fought to get her knickers down, struggling to step out of one leg while Harry undid his trousers. “Dammit!” she shouted in frustration. This was not happening nearly fast enough.

He reached beneath her shirt and cupped her breasts in his hands, the silk of her bra doing nothing to conceal her hardened nipples. He groaned as he kissed her neck and pushed her bra up to knead her supple flesh, the light touch of his thumbs moving back and forth over the hard little crowns making her squirm. “Harry, please….”

Pulling back to look at her, he grinned then removed his hands from her breasts. She moaned in anguish, already missing his touch. He reached down and wrapped his arms around her arse, lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and held onto his shoulders.

Leaving one arm under her to support her weight and never taking his eyes from hers, he pulled his erection free form his trousers and slowly lowered her onto him. Hermione put her head back and a near-silent scream came from her open mouth, her eyes closed tightly. Harry let his forehead fall forward to rest against her throat as he felt her fully impaled on him.

Thunder boomed outside the phone booth but neither of them heard it. Harry wrapped his other arm around her bottom and lifted her up, then let her fall down onto him hard. They both moaned loudly at the impact. Hermione swore he was going to slice her half. Harry was sure he had never penetrated her so deeply before...and it was driving him mad.

Harry lifted her up and brought her down again and again, faster and faster, harder and harder, until they were both screaming. Hermione had her face buried against his throat, her mouth open in one long continuous groan. She was like a rag doll in his arms, completely at his mercy and unable to stop his manipulation of her body even if she’d wanted to…which she didn’t. This was by far the best sex they had ever had.

After a few more minutes of Harry pounding her onto him like a pile driver, she clutched at his shoulders and lifted her head, screaming his name over and over as her orgasm washed over her. Her body stiffened so drastically that Harry was actually worried he’d hurt her, but only for a split second. Then it was his turn. As his body emptied itself into her depths, he kept his moans as quiet as possible, muffled against the base of her throat.

As he came down from his euphoria, he continued to ride out her storm with her. She had never come this hard, at least not with him. But he was fairly confident that she never had with any of her other lovers, either. There had been only two before him. And from the way she talked about the experiences, it didn’t sound like Harry had anything to worry about.

He felt her relaxing against him finally and smiled, kissing her throat. “Merlin’s ghost, Harry,” she panted against his neck, her arms still clutched around his shoulders fiercely.

He pulled her back just a bit, both of them groaning as the tiny movement caused their bodies to press together tighter where they were still joined. He kissed her softly. “You okay?”

She smiled and opened her eyes. “That was bloody amazing.” Harry chuckled and pulled her down into a hug and their bodies jolted together once more. “Oh! Don’t,” she moaned, her body still shaking with aftershocks of the most intense orgasm of her life. “Don’t move.”

Harry looked concerned. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked into her ear.

Hermione laid her head on his shoulder and squeezed him. “I’ve never been so okay,” she whispered.

Harry smiled and slowly lifted her off of him. She moaned softly as he slipped from her, leaving her feeling empty and cold. Setting her down on her feet but still holding onto her, Harry rocked her slowly. “We should get going,” he whispered into her hair.

“Nothing like being fashionably late,” she teased, stepping back from him and pulling his wand from his pocket. After a few quick cleaning charms, and putting themselves back together, they were presentable once again.

“I don’t know why we even bothered,” Harry said, his hand on the door of the phone booth ready to open it. “We’re both going to get drenched getting back to the car.

Hermione tapped him on the shoulder with his wand and he looked at her. “It’s not raining that hard anymore,” she scolded gently.

Harry looked outside the booth and saw that she was right. “That’s why you’re the smart one, luv,” Harry said, smiling, and taking the wand from her. He opened the door and looked down at her. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

They ran for it, getting to the car, throwing open their doors and falling inside, laughing. Hermione grabbed his wand and dried them off quickly with a few quick charms and she handed it back to him. “Good as new,” she said. “Can we go now?”

“Hey, you started this,” he said, starting the car’s engine and pulling back onto the road.

“I most certainly did not,” she said in a huff. “If you had admitted to being lost in the first place….”