Horse-Hair Lights

magpie_igraine

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 08/06/2005
Last Updated: 08/06/2005
Status: completed

This is my response fic to Amblica's "Long Shot" challenge. Hermione gets lost, Harry gets upset. Simple. Sweet. Enjoy!

Chapters

1. untitled

1. untitled

This started as a response fic to Amblica’s song challenge involving “Longer” by Dan Fogelburg (hee hee, having too much fun with that word). It just sorta snowballed into a mushy, but not too-mushy, mushfest. Set during seventh year, post Voldemort. Longish one-shot.

On a personal note, I’d like to thank Cinderelly and Mycha kk for recommending my fics. Beautiful guys, just beautiful. And thanks to JanieB for simply existing.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters. I just like to play-play with them.

Horse-Hair Lights

“Deeper than any forest primeval….”

Run Hermione. Come on, girl run…

I paused in my little pep talk to leap over a fallen branch. Obviously the gods were on my side tonight, as evidenced by the three-foot-deep mud puddle that cushioned my fall.

I scrambled to dry land and brushed the wet hair out of my eyes, waiting for, I don’t know, the heavens to open up and piss all over me. Not that they weren’t trying. Serves me right, I thought bitterly as I wiped the rainwater from my forehead. After all, I’d been daft enough to join the unholy duo of Hogwarts as they warned an absentee Hagrid of an impending Ohenour attack.

Yeah guys, great plan. I rolled my eyes and got to my feet, wiping the mud from my robes.

Of course, Ron and Harry didn’t know Hagrid wouldn’t be home, just like they didn’t know that Ohenour’s couldn’t come indoors unless invited. So Hagrid would’ve been quite safe in his own hut, and I might’ve been spared my little stroll in a downpour. The indoors thing was an interesting corruption of the vampire myth. Something I could’ve told Harry all about if he’d only bothered to tell me the real reason he’d dragged me out of bed at three in the morning.

Well, I shouldn’t complain. It’s not everyday that I wake up to a flushed, panting Harry, kneeling at my bedside. Imagine my disappointment on hearing he only wanted me for a little late night recon. Gods, the things I put up with…they’ll miss me when I’m gone, no doubt.

In fact, they were probably missing me right now, seeing as how Ron and Harry had long since outpaced me. Now, freezing, with no shelter in sight, I was starting to sour on our latest little misadventure.

Could be worse, I offered weakly. Like right now. At least the pouring rain would keep the beasties indoors. Big, blood-thirsty creatures that wouldn’t think twice about tearing me to shreds and serving me with a side of white rice to their beastie kin.

I jumped when I heard a twig snap. A twig. A bloody little twig snapped and I leapt four feet in the air.

Great Germanus, where was Harry? By now he must’ve noticed I wasn’t with him, and shame on him if he hadn’t. It’s not like I’m a wallet or a watch. Easily misplaced, easily replaced. I’m Hermione. His Hermes. Darn it, I matter! But apparently my contribution to saving the known world didn’t merit a momentary backward glance. Git.

Gods I’d wish he’d hurry and rescue…er… find me.

I gripped my wand as I climbed over another stump. I refused to run anymore. I had given up on running. Running and I were no longer friends.

However, said steadfast refusal had made me an easy target for the three shadowy figures that were slowly circling me. They approached silently, and I, lost in my perennial self-pity, failed to notice them until they were nearly on top of me. So I did the only thing I could do: I let out an ineffectual eek and dove into a duck and cover. Damsel in distress after all.

Gods where was Harry?

————

(Harry’s Narrative)

I slowed up as I cleared the forest. Bit of fun that. First I get to wake up a warm, purring Hermes and then make a mad dash through the pouring rain. Looking back, I watched Ron huff and puff as he broke through the remaining shrubs. Say what you will about Quidditch, it doesn’t do much for a bloke’s endurance.

I waited for Hermione, expecting her to appear out of the darkness like a drenched Diana. She’d be peeved at first, but she’d forgive me quickly enough. Always did. Gods she was adorable when she was scolding me though. Made me want to carry her to the nearest dark corner and snog her senseless. Speaking of dark corners… I peered into the woods for any sign of her.

Ron brushed passed me wordlessly, apparently determined to get out of the rain. Hermes wasn’t behind him. Why wasn’t she behind him?

“Ron?” I asked, alarmed. “Where’s Hermes?”

“What?” He turned around, obviously torn between heading towards the castle and answering me.

“Hermes. Hermione. Where is she?”

Puzzled, Ron turned back towards the woods. “She was behind us a second ago.”

Wow. Thanks Ron. ”Well, she’s not there now.” I said, starting towards the tree line.

“Harry, what are you doing?” Ron shouted after me.

Was he kidding? “What does it look like?” I called back over my shoulder. “I’m going to look for her. We’re going to look for her.”

I could hear Ron trotting behind me. ”I’m sure she’s just…I mean she’ll probably…”

”What?” I asked, motioning towards the forest. “She’s probably what? Stopped to tie her shoe? Admiring the foliage?”

”Well, maybe,” he offered weakly.

I turned and looked at him blankly by way of an answer.

“Ok, look, we’ll go get someone. Someone with maps and, um, forest things. Dumbledore, he’ll help. Everyone will help.” Ron eyed the woods wearily. Ever since our run in with the fifty-foot spiders, he was less and less inclined to accompany Hermes and me wherever webs could be found.

“Fine. Ron.” I said through gritted teeth. We were wasting time as it was. “You get help. I’m going back to find her.” Without another word I headed through the trees. Hated to admit it, but I really was hoping Hermes was just tying her shoes and admiring the foliage. Merlin if that’s the case, I swear I’ll only kill her after I rescue…or, um…find her.

Of course, Hermes was a grown witch who could take care of herself. A fact I kept repeating it over and over again as I waded through the muck. She’d probably fair better than me out here, but still, with no one looking after her… who knows?

I tried best I could to trace our paths. Time passed and the rain stopped, but all took a backseat to my self-berating. Gods I was an arse. Just leaving her behind like she was some broken pocket watch. I tried to fight the image of a tiring Hermione calling after me as I disappeared into the darkness in front of her. I left her behind. I left HER behind. Great Germanus I left her behind.

Funny that, since she was the one who had me in the palm of her hand. Gods, I bloody well worshiped that girl. My girl. I had always thought of her as mine, though I never really had a right to it. Until recently that is, after a few drinks and some heated banter led me to the delicious belief that my Hermes wasn’t completely satisfied with her gal-pal status.

(Needless flashback to bar:-)

“Harry, what are you doing?”

I leaned over Hermes’s shoulder and looked at her blankly. “I’m showing you how to play darts love…”

“I’ll say,” she said with a sly smile.

I was standing behind her, positioning her arms so she could throw the bloody dart and not kill our fellow bar goers. I looked down, pointedly ignoring her tight shirt, and noticed that my wand firmly sticking her in her side.

I looked at her, almost insulted. “That’s my wand love.” But gods, she didn’t know how far off she was.

She raised her eyebrow and turned back, snuggling up against me. “Sure it is Harry. Your wand. Right. Is that what you call it?”

I laughed out loud at that, causing her to loose her grip on the dart and send it flying into the wall by the board.

“Harry,” she gave a long suffering sigh, “you call that helping? Honestly, between your ‘wand’ and you laughing, it’s a wonder I haven’t killed everyone around us.”

”Not my fault love.” I said with a grin. “You’re the one making fun of my wand. Lowers my dart-playing confidence. Can’t throw straight.”

She looked up at me with mischievous eyes. “Who says I was talking about darts Harry?” She turned towards me, her chest was now pressing against mine, and I swear I nearly fell against her.

“What?” What? Wait…what? I thought. Yeah, brilliant, I know. But at least I hadn’t grunted or said something like “Mmmm. Want now.”

Her upturned eyes found mine. Big wet, watery cinnamon pools that I could drown in. “It’s only a game Bright Eyes,” she whispered. Gods I loved it when she called me that. And of course her talking only brought my attention back to where it was most of the time: her lips. Her sweet, perfect, pink lips. I don’t know what I would, or wouldn’t, have done in that semi-private space if Ron and Luna hadn’t chosen that accursed second to appear with drinks in their hands and smiles on their sexually satisfied faces. Smug sods.

- - - - - - - -

And so there I was, sloshing through the mud, searching for my potential girlfriend.

The sound of a branch cracking made me jump. Wand at the ready, I turned quickly and was momentarily blinded by a bright orange light.

”’arry, is that you?” I heard Hagrid’s voice before I made out his angry face next to a spacey Trelawney’s. Mud-stained and shivering, he set the lantern down and towered over me. Hagrid looked about to speak when Trelawney suddenly stepped in front of him, her black beady eyes peering at me through her thick glasses.

“Harry dear, are you all right?” She asked, prodding me with her wand. I was on the verge of smart-arsed answer about a psychic needing to ask that when Hagrid’s booming voice interrupted.

“Why shouldn’t our ‘arry be all right? Just tromping through the forest like it was ‘is own bloody backyard.”

“Hermione…” I started. What had they expected me to do, her missing and all?

”Yes, dear, we know about your unfortunate little friend.” Trelawney shook her head slowly. “So sad really. No imagination at all, but still, such a waste.”

“What…” I didn’t understand what she was talking about. What was ‘sad really’? What was a ‘waste’?

Hagrid spoke up in way of explanation. ”Never mind her ‘arry. Just ramblin’ is all. Been doing it all night.” Hagrid glared at Trelawney, reminding me of the first time he’d met the Dursleys. Scared them straight it did; Trelawney, however, didn’t seem the least bit impressed by the half giant.

“Hagrid, really, young Harry here should know. After all…”

“Know what Hagrid?” I insisted. “Have they found her? Is she…” Oh gods.

I don’t know what I thought at that point. The rest was kind of a blur. My thoughts were along the lines of she’s hurt, she’s gone, where is she, my fault, love I’m so sorry, oh gods please….

“No Harry. We ain’t found ‘er. But we’ll keep looking. Dumbledore’s got…”

”Hagrid!” Trelawney shook her head indignantly.

“Shut. Yer. Gob. Woman.” Hagrid hissed.

“What?”

“I…”

“Stop…”

“He’s going to find out…”

“ ’e don’t need to know…”

“But the centaurs…”

The centaurs?

“What about the centaurs?” I asked evenly. My calm voice wasn’t forced. I really only had one thought at that point. Get. Her. Back.

Trelawney clasped her hands over her mouth. “Oh Harry…” she trailed off.

“Do the centaurs have her Hagrid?” Flashes of Umbridge’s broken form flashed through my mind. The idea of my Hermes…

”Do they have her?” I asked gravely as I gripped my wand, waiting for Hagrid’s long-in-coming answer.

”We don’t rightly know ‘arry. Just some hoof prints and all…”

Of course I didn’t let him finish. Save the girl, check, was all that was going through my mind at that point. Well that, and if they’d laid one hand or hoof or whatever on her I’d spend the rest of my life hunting them down like dogs and…

My internal ramblings were cut short as I fell to the forest floor. Hagrid’s trusty Dormetius spell had taken effect immediately, and I found myself eye-level with two pairs of mud-stained boots.

Grunting, Hagrid hefted me over his shoulders and pocketed my wand, the rest of their conversation came to me through a thick fog as I drifted off.

“’ope your happy you daft bint.” Hagrid muttered to the unfazed Trelawney, who was fussing over me as Hagrid started towards the castle.

“Oh dear, I do hope he’s…”

“He’s not.” Hagrid answered firmly. “Won’t be anythin but a wreck til they find ‘is little Hermy.” He sighed and shifted me. He said something about how he hoped the centaurs brought her back, else they’d have the most powerful wizard in ten generations after them. Whoever that was.

“Sleep well lad.” Hagrid said softly, “The morning won’t bring any joy for ya.”

- - - - - - - -- - - -

(Back to Hermione)

There were three of them. Three, large, territorial centaurs who were convinced some disrespectful little wizard was sullying their ancestral burial ground or some such nonsense. I heard them planning what they were going to do to the little ‘spit’ once they found him. I wasn’t sure how well I’d fair on a ‘lurte skewer,’ and I didn’t mean to find out.

So when they approached, I dove under a thicket and uttered a quick concealing spell. One good thing about the rain, it made it next to impossible for them to track me. I waited until the sound of their sloshing grew fainter and fainter before I let out a sigh and a mild expletive.

Wow. I hated to admit it, but that was a close one. Not that I couldn’t handle a few centaurs. Lupin had taught me a few tricks over the summer. How to summon horse tranquilizers for one (also useful for handling a sugared-up Colin Creevey). Harry really didn’t know how much of his sanity was owed to me.

I was soaked now, the impervio charm had weakened and water was seeping through my robes as I emerged from the underbrush. Dawn was coming, and there I was with no one to share it with. Well, apart from a few brassed-off centaurs and the various bloodsuckers that lurked by day. I decided to keep up the cloaking charm up awhile longer, at least until I was sure of where I was.

Since the rain had stopped, I was able to summon a Rothia field guide (basically leaping light that would show me the way back). It was NEWT level (thank you very much) and very effective, but best used in the dry open air. And so I began my trek back to Hogwarts, hoping I’d find the castle before whatever else was in the woods found me.

- - - - -

Okay, maybe the Rothia guide was a bad idea. I thought it best to avoid the centaurs lands, so, yeah, maybe my commands confused it. Hence the delay. The day and a half delay.

Well, it really wasn’t my fault. I had to stop for supplies. Well, supplies and a nap. And a swim. But then I refuse to feel guilty about that since I was covered with mud and slimy ooze, and how often do you just stumble upon a waterfall in Scotland? Not very, that’s for sure.

I’d spent the night in a tree, watching various creatures passed under me and no, I wasn’t scared, or hungry, or tired, or…scared. Because I was a great and powerful witch who could handle a couple of large, hulking beasts with razor-sharp teeth and a taste for human flesh. Although I did start flashing back to my disastrous lunch with the Huffpuff bludgers.

Anyhow, it was nearly a day-and-a-half later that I climbed the hill to Hogwarts.

As I entered the great hall, I was snatched up in a crushing hug by a tired-looking Hagrid, who immediately started explaining about how they had to lock someone in Lupin’s old room and not to worry about it and everything was fine now that I was back and…

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute. What was that Hagrid?” I asked as he set me down.

“Just ‘arry and what with you being gone…”

My eyes narrowed. “What?”

Hagrid explained that they’d had to ‘sedate’ Harry, and that first time he’d regained strength he’d nearly blown a hole through the wall and….

“What! You left Harry alone?” Gods, he was probably driving himself insane, blaming himself, just like that horrible Christmas at Grimmauld Place.

I imagined him curled in a corner with only Buckbeak for company. Never mind that Buckbeak wasn’t even in the country, I’m sure Harry could find another Hippograff to brood with. And with no one looking after him, left alone to his own self-loathing and unerring sense of responsibility and gods those stupid sodding…

I brushed past Hagrid in a very impolite way and headed straight for Lupin’s room. I didn’t wait for Dumbledore or Ron because, now classed as what Harry would call ‘stupid gits,’ I didn’t want to see them. I could barely climb the stairs, drenched as I was, so I threw off my wet shoes and I ran up the to Lupin’s old room. I accedoed the lock with an advanced spell (bloody amateurs couldn’t even use an ensnaring charm) and entered without knocking.

As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw a lone figure standing by the fireplace, staring into the flames.

“Harry?” I called softly.

- - - - - -

Of course I’d been dreaming about her. I would dream about her, and I’d wake up, and one of my designated keepers would spell me back under. Short spurts, nothing too powerful, but still sending me for a loop. I couldn’t say how much time had passed. Hours, days. All I knew was that she was still gone.

Part of my panic was that they were keeping me under for a reason. That they had found her and couldn’t tell me. Hence my little outburst. And no, I didn’t try to blow a hole in the wall. It was through the roof.

Now, up and awake again, I staggered to the fireplace. I heard the door open behind me and figured it was time for another dose.

“Harry…”

I turned at the sound of her voice and watched wordlessly as she padded across the room. At that point I was convinced it was a dream. Well, no. Actually, at that point all I could think about was her feet. Why is she barefoot? I was fascinated. Strange hallucination that. Strange, but cruel nonetheless.

“Bright Eyes?” She whispered as she stopped inches from me. I felt the warmth of her breath, and I tightened my hold on the mantle, willing her, no willing it, to go away. I swear that mantle was the only thing keeping me up. I stared at the fire, waiting for, I don’t know, someone to wake me up or hit me over the head with a snarling sislepod. Either one would be preferable to this sweet torture.

Then, of course, she touched me, and I nearly sank to her feet. Her inexplicably bare feet.

------------

I put my hand over his forehead. I wasn’t sure he was sick, but after taking in his deathly pallor and careworn eyes, I figured a little mothering couldn’t hurt. He started at my touch but leaned into my hand as I cupped his cheek. I tried to apologize. I really did, but I’d lost the will to form words, frozen under his hollowed, unreadable expression.

I waited for him to, I don’t know, pull away or push me aside. I had imagined my return as a bit different. Something like Harry snatching me up in a hug and crushing me to him. Maybe uttering a few ‘thank the gods’ or ‘I’m so glad you’re not on a lurte skewer.’

I could feel my eyes start to tear. I’m so sorry Harry, I thought as I drew my hand away. Gods he must’ve been angry. I shouldn’t have fallen behind, making him sick with worry, reducing him to…

He suddenly caught me by the wrist and stared at my small, mud-stained hand in his.

-------------

“Harry?” She said my name softly, as I took her hand and turned her to me. Her cheeks had tears on them, but her eyes were bright, brilliant even. It wasn’t a dream. She was here. She’d come back. She’d come back to me.

“Hermes, love?” I whispered, daring to be hopeful.

“Harry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Of course I didn’t let her finish. I gathered and lifted her to me, babbling incoherently for the next five minutes. “Oh, love, Hermione, oh gods, thank Germanus, oh love, oh sweets, my Hermione, gods” I remember repeating her name into the soft skin of her neck as her clover scent surrounded me.

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and I swear she melted against me. I couldn’t tell where she ended and I began, and I didn’t want to. She was whispering assurances over and over again. “S’all right Harry, I’m fine. I’m here Harry, oh gods, I’m here. I’m right here.” I was too relieved to be filthy minded when she began running feathery kisses along my jaw.

“I thought…” I trailed off, shuttering as I remembered the personal hell of the past few days (hours?). “I thought you were dead.” All this time, mind you, she’s kissing and nipping me, doing the most amazing things with her mouth, whispering that yes she was here and yes she was fine, and Sweet Orpheo I could almost believe her.

“They told me...they said the centaurs…” my broken voice gave out. About bloody time too. This allowed me to begin my own trail of rough kisses up her neck, punishing my treasure for their mistake.

-----------------

Damn them, I thought as he ran his unsteady hands over me. How could they’ve left him like this? Of course he’d blame himself. Just like he blamed himself for Cedric and Sirius. I’m here Harry Gods I’m right here.

I remember pulling back to meet his bright green gaze. “They told me…” he swallowed back a tremor. He didn’t look upset. He looked, I don’t know, relieved. My Harry. Oh than heavens he’s not angry.

He tried to speak, but I brushed my fingers against his lips, silencing him. I didn’t expect it to work, but it did, because he began lightly kissing my fingertips.

In any other circumstance I’d be struggling to keep down the inappropriate, lord how inappropriate, thoughts about pulling him to me and assaulting his mouth, but now all I could think of was how ghastly white he looked. Gods he’s pale. His skin, despite being warmed by the fire, was still cold to the touch. I began to pull away, ready to get Pomfrey when he tightened his hold around my waist.

“Don’t leave,” he said, his forehead coming to rest against mine.

”I won’t.” I said firmly. I close my eyes and held tightly to him, trying to promise with touches what I couldn’t with words.

“Can’t….” he trailed off, suddenly toppling toward me. He grabbed the mantle for support as I tucked myself under his arm, struggling to keep him upright.

“Harry? What is it? What’s wrong?” I began to panic. Gods let him be all right…

He didn’t answer. Instead he seemed content to merely lay his head on my shoulder as I ran my hands over his broad chest and back, searching for injuries the whole time of course. What? I was.

“Harry!” I demanded, my eyes pooling as I stared into his drawn face.

“Nothing love. Just tired…” he swallowed. “Thank gods you’re back.”

I made a strange cooing noise as I pulled him to me, again hating everyone who’d left him like this. “Here Harry,” I drew him towards the bed in the corner. A white frilly thing probably neglected since Lupin’s time.

I helped him onto it and knelt at his feet, brushing his hands away as I unlaced his boots, tossing them aside before easing his glasses off. His big, green eyes stared up at me, leaving mine only for a moment as I lifted his sweater over his head.

Admittedly, I was too, um, distracted by his defined chest, sweet Germanus, gods, focus, dear Persphone he’s gorgeous, to notice that my hands had slipped to his waist and were unbuckling his belt. I felt him tense under her fingertips and froze when I realized what I was doing.

My face grew warm as I stilled my hands. “Ummm.” Nice one Granger. Next time let’s try a little less enthusiasm when undressing the patient. I stammered a bit before I managed an apology.

“Just the belt Harry. Okay?” I risked a quick glance at him. He nodded absently, apparently fascinated by the wall as I undid the latched and pulled the belt away from him. “Lie back,” I instructed, ignoring the buttery blood coursing through my body.

Gathering the blankets around him, I smiled as he settled against the pillow, taking an opportunity to run my hands through his messy raven hair. I kissed his forehead, lingering longer than I had to, drawing in his scent and his warmth and his…

“Don’t leave,” he whispered, catching my hand in his.

I opened my eyes to a sea of green, and I swear I nearly drowned.

———————

“Don’t leave…”

She didn’t answer right away, just stammered softly, “I…”

”Don’t leave, please love, just a little while, here let me….” I sat up, pulling the damp robe away from her and gathering her to me, ignoring any possible protests. I tucked my arm around her head and cradled her, determined not to let her leave me again. I didn’t know what I’d do if I woke up and she wasn’t there. Probably try to blow another hole in the roof. Which, again, I’d like to say, was an accident.

But she settled against me as I nestled her dark honey locks. “Just let me…” I sighed, running my hands over her over and over again, making sure she was actually there.

She wrapped herself around me and began kissing my throat, turning me to mush as she pulled me impossibly closer.

I remember hovering over her, caressing her cheeks and chin, tracing her features with my fingertips. I smiled when she nipped at my fingers playfully.

“Say now,” I said gently, “I might be needing those.”

”Oh really?” she asked with a sly smile.

I imagine my mouth must’ve dropped open when I caught her meaning. Is she…what? I thought. But before I could stutter a response, she had kissed an apology on the tip of my nose and settled back, allowing me to rest my head against her chest. In a strictly comforting, platonic position of course. I’m sure it would’ve been the same for Ginny or Ron. Well not Ron. At least not if I had anything to say about it.

I fell asleep listening to her heartbeat. I tried to stay awake. Really I did. Wanting to savor this, this being against her as she slept, but my hands soon found hers and I drifted off in the best sleep I’ve had since, well, ever.

----------

I was lying under him, his hands gripping my back, his lips brushing my neck. My body was yielding to his pressing mouth and wandering hands. “Hermes,” he sighed as I readied for the first, earth shattering plunge. “Gods hurry Harry please…” I whispered back, urgently seeking his lips, readying for the delicious sensations as…

“Hermes?” His voice roused me from my dream. I nearly groaned in frustration. That’s twice in one week he’d interrupted my sweet dreams, ironically both about him. His sense of timing was never his most endearing trait.

I opened my eyes to find I was indeed wrapped around Harry, albeit fully dressed and not mussed in the least. Dammit. My insides were pulsing as he brushed some hair away from my face and kissed the tip of my nose.

“Hated to wake you love, but it looked like you were having a rough time.”

“Yeah.” Rough. Nice and rough. Gods if only you knew Harry. I tried to steady my voice, but it was hard. Mmmmm…Harry hard...okay, stop it, what with all the humming and throbbing my body was doing under his.

“Nightmares?” He asked softly.

I shook my head and smiled weakly. “No Harry.”

“What then?” He leaned forward, brushing his lips against my forehead. He kissed and nuzzled my temple, unaware of the effects of his tender attentions. Gods Harry. Please stop, just give me a minute before I say and do something incredibly wicked and oh gods…all incoherent internal rambling stopped as his hand brushed alongside my breast. I gripped the sheets to keep from reaching for him. “Down girl” was quickly becoming my mantra around him.

“N-nothing.” I managed to say. Okay body, stop throbbing Now. I began to talk myself down with a semi-prepared speech. He doesn’t want me. He’s hurt and sick and I’m just his surrogate sister and whatnot and oh gods how I hate that phase ‘surrogate sister’ makes me sound like some substitute nun and I’m definitely not fit for a convent what with his hands on me and over me and his arm cradling my head and…

“Hermes, look at me,” he cupped my cheek and studied my face, concern etched on his features. “Gods,” he shook his head, “when I think what could’ve happened to you…”

“N-nothing Harry.” Stop stammering. Stammering and throbbing and gods just a little to the left Harry. “Nothing.” I answered at last. “I-I mean nothing happened.”

His features turned to stone and his eyes slowly narrowed. He continued staring at me, his eyes burning into mine. “No Harry,” I said carefully, “you don’t understand. Honestly. I’m fine.”

He turned away wordlessly, studying the wall opposite us. “I’m fine.” I repeated firmly. My fault Harry. Not yours. I had to work up some courage before adding softly, “forgive me?”

—————

“Forgive….what?” I turned back to her, surprised, confused, more than a little turned with the way she was running her hands along my sides, gods Hermes just a little to the left…

“Was my fault,” she muttered, her eyes pooling. “I didn’t…I shouldn’t have fallen behind.”

“Fallen behind?” I asked. Obviously I had missed something.

“I couldn’t…” a hiccupping sob escaped her. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault…” she couldn’t finish because she began crying these sweet little hitching sobs. Not that I would’ve let her finish anyway. Is that what she thought? That I was, what? Angry? All I could do was hold her and hush her and whisper words in her ear, willing her to believe they were true.

—————

“It’s all right love, don’t cry Hermione, my Hermes, don’t cry please love.” He just kept saying sweet words in my ear, hushing me as I cried all over him. I couldn’t help it. All I had done lately was upset him, when in fact all I wanted was the opposite.

After I recovered from my little fit, I ran my hand over my face, trying to dry my cheeks and eyes.

“Here sweet,” he said as he handed me his discarded sweater from the floor.

I dabbed my eyes and laughed, noticing his tear-stained chest. He looked at me curiously and I pointed by way of explanation. “I’ve made a mess of you” I said shyly. He smiled as I began gently running the now damp garment over him. I felt him lean into me as I worked my way across him. I took my time, determined, for a change, to make him feel something less than worry and annoyance. I ran the material over his perfect chest, along his ribs, down towards his hips…

I started when he gave an involuntary jerk. To my eternal embarrassment I noticed I was caressed his, ehem, hardness, through the material of the makeshift cloth. Oh sweet Merlin…he’s big…I mean, um... whoops.

I turned away as two bright spots of color formed on my cheeks. My hands, however, remained between our stilled forms as I waited for him to push away. I listened as his breathing grew ragged and felt his body tense above mine. I turned slowly, only to find his eyes boring into mine, now dark with, what? Why isn’t he pushing away or laughing it off or making light of it? Well, I wanted him feel something other than annoyance. Guess it worked. Ha. Go team.

I shifted, innocently enough, which only pressed my hands harder against him, causing him to gasp and arch towards me. Whoops again.

“Hermes?” he said, seemingly awed. Yep, definitely not annoyed.

I closed my eyes and began an incoherent internal monologue. What am I doing what am I doing oh gods he’s against me and above me and he’s not pulling away oh please don’t let him pull away…

He hissed as I gently cupped him through the damp cotton. He gave another jerk in my hand, sighing as I rhythmically circled and massaged him, his body pulling and pushing against mine as I began moving with him. “Harry…” my voice dropped to a husky whisper as my body began its familiar throb.

I could feel his hands suddenly on me. Gods, yes, Harry yes. I held my breath as he ran his hands down my sides and across my wrists, only to still them and draw my hands away.

At that point, suicide seemed like the most viable option. I wondered if I could subtly suffocate myself with the sweater I was holding. Oh, wait, no by then I’d dropped the sweater, horrified at what I’d done. He brought my arms to either side of my face as I averted my eyes and began stuttering an apology.

“Harry, I’m…I didn’t…” Just how does one apologize for molesting their best friend? It’s not like they write songs and cards about it. There I’ve ruined it. His best friend and I’m groping him like a bloody first year with a crush in his sickbed no less after he fainted last night and I’ll never…

————

So there I was, holding Hermes, her arms at her sides, her face inches from mine, her lips just crying out to be kissed. Don’t know why she seemed so surprised when I closed the space between us. She gasped against the kiss before opening for me, molding her body against mine. “Hermes,” I said reverently as I nipped at her bottom lip.

My name never sounded so good as when she moaned it. Something I wouldn’t mind hearing at least three or four times a day. I resolved then and there never to let her leave this room. If we got hungry I could just blow a hole through the roof and accedo food from the dining hall. Even though, again, that first time was accident.

Her mouth opened, and gods I was home. Her lips moved under mine, nipping and licking, whimpering as I broke away and began a trail of licks and kisses along her neck and down to her…

“Harry!” She cried out as my mouth found the skin under her unbuttoned collar. I kissed my way down her throat, nibbling her as she held fought to free her hands from mine. “Not yet, love, let me play,” I murmured as I nipped at her. She writhed under me, and, little minx she was, she brought her thigh up and gently pressed along my…gods

————

“Gods…”

He cried out as I pressed against his hardness. Guess I finally figured out how to get his attention. Maybe I should’ve done this during fifth year. Would’ve saved us a trip to the DM. His grip broke, freeing my hands to run up his muscled back, around his neck, and down to his chest.

How long we pressed and kissed nipped at each other, I couldn’t say. When he did pull away, his hair was messier than usual, and I’m sure I looked like something Crookshanks dragged in.

He rested his forehead against mine and chuckled.

“There now,” he whispered with warm eyes. He planted a quick kiss on my cheek, “I’ve made a mess of you.”

I laughed as he nibbled his way down my neck. “Been wanting to do something like that for some time,” he added with a sly smile.

“Well,” I said, my breath still ragged. “You’re welcome to it (gasp, sigh) anytime.”

He smiled as I began a series of hisses and moans that only he would come to know so well.

His hands stilled, and I looked up at him.

“I can’t lose you again,” he said with heavy lids as he began dotting my cheeks with kisses. And as the sun crept over the windowsill, we began the morning with something we hadn’t had for some time: Hope. Oh, and that other thing (the sex).

End