Author's Note: This is just fluffy light fluff. Nothing happens. Only some snuggly Harmony fluff and fluff and more fluff. So yeah. You've been warned (about the fluff).
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite overcanopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk roses, and with eglantine.
A Midsummer Night's Dream II.ii.250
Chapter 8 "Be as Thou Hast Wont to Be"
She brushed his shoulder. That was definitely a shoulder brush.
They were walking through the forest trails, hand-length between them and all, when Harry felt her shoulder gently press against his.
Get a grip Potter… he muttered as he watched her like a hawk out of the corner of his eye. Those last three days had crept by at a Hufflepuff's pace. The sunny afternoons ran together in gray blur as Harry was for, the first time since the front, effectively Hermione-less.
And now this. This sudden shoulder brushing.
He tried to keep calm. He really did. He tried and failed.
Come on…think about something else. Look around. Nature's splendor and whatnot. Birds chirping, sunlight pouring through the treetops, bit of breeze. Really, it's a nice day out. Ignore the fact that she's barefoot, only wearing shorts, tight little blue top, and that her hair's all loose-like…and yeah, that was definitely another nudge…dear gods…
…Oww. His non-Hermione musing stopped when he walked face-first into a tree. He ended up on his back in the middle of the path shaking off the dull pain in his head as he pressed his hand to his temple.
Oh smooth Potter…he muttered as he sat up, rubbing his forehead.
"Harry? Oh my goodness, are you all right?" Hermione was suddenly at his side, fussing over him in her old Hermione way. Her wonderful, warm, pre-potion Hermione way.
Focus Potter, he thought as she ran her hands over him. Sure, she's holding your hand and leaning with her soft curves all nicely against you and with her sighing and cooing and smelling like clover and honey and…gods don't let her stop…
"Harry, I'll be right back." She pulled away, cursing herself for not bringing her wand.
"Wait. Don't go," he said absently. "Please…" he caught her hand in his and gathered her against him. Damn he missed this.
"I won't go Harry," she said as she looked at him oddly. Apparently he found her hands fascinating. He was staring at them like they were made of Snitches.
She shook off the thought. He probably just hit his head harder than he usually did. He was, after all, the Boy Who Falls All Over Himself in the Most Adorable Ways.
She cradled him to her as she planted a few feathered kisses to his temple. "Poor Harry," she muttered.
He groaned as her lips brushed the rising bruise.
"Did that hurt?" She asked softly.
"Hmmm," he hummed. So this is how putty feels.
"Honestly Harry…" she shook her head. "I think your seeker senses are fading with age."
Part of him registered the insult. Other, happier, parts were too far gone to care… parts that'd let her turn him into a toad as long as she kept pressing against him like that. He murmured his agreement as his arm snuck around her waist and brought her flush against him.
She hushed him and settled into his embrace as he curled up snuggly against her.
She began inspecting the bruise he was sure to have. She made a 'tisking' sound as she bowed her head and shifted impossibly closer, bringing her bare shoulder dangerously close to his lips.
Secretly thrilled she wasn't pulling away, left facing the bare expanse of skin, dizzy from the fall, and now light-headed from her clover scent, Harry studied her lovely face a bit before he planted an impulsive kiss against her shoulder.
She stilled in her inspection and furrowed her bow, wondering whether she'd merely imagined it or whether he, Harry James Potter, had, on purpose and sober, just kissed her shoulder. Right. Sure Granger...and just why would he do that?
Meanwhile, Harry tightened his hold on her, wondering if he should apologize or try it again. And darn it, the shoulder was just sitting there, tan and smooth and sweet smelling and tempting so he tried it again. And again. And again. To his amazement she actually shifted towards him in silent consent as his lips planted a feathery trail along the crook of her neck.
She even tilted her head to give him better access to the soft stretch of skin.
Whoa Potter…one thing at a time.
He began a trail of light kisses along her throat, stopping to suckle the soft spots now open to him. He couldn't see her face, but since she bit back a moan, he wagered he was doing something right.
She wants this…she likes this…he thought almost gleefully (or as gleeful as he could get after a head injury) while he continued on the same path.
"Harry," she gasped as (dear lord is that his tongue?) began tracing her collarbone. "Harry, your head." Hey…gift horse, mouth… Mmmmm. Harry's mouth.
"What?" He asked not bothering to pause in his ministrations. Talking was bad. Talking was keeping him from tasting her.
"You hurt your head," she said with a false calm as he nibbled and licked a light trail towards her mouth. She began worrying her bottom lip, apparently torn between pushing him down and pushing him away.
"Oh. Right." His hand began to creep up the sides of her knees. "Well, I feel fine."
"Fine?" She whispered with heavy lidded eyes. "Really?"
"Fantastic actually," he said absently as he pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
She ran her hand through his messy raven locks and started in surprise as he gave a guttural growl. Her surprise melted into a smile as he nuzzled her cheek and nestled her hair. He reminded her of a cat sometimes. A big, handsome panther type cat with lithe muscles and feral eyes and …dear gods is he going to…?
Harry effectively stopped her musings when he awkwardly gripped the back of her neck and captured her lips.
The kiss began softly. His mouth moved hesitantly over hers as he gathered her against him and ran his hands over her shoulders and sides. He felt her tongue trace his lips and opened for her, tasting her. It hadn't been his first time kissing her, but it was certainly the best.
She clutched at him, softly sighing her approval against his parted mouth as she shifted in his lap. Her squirming was especially pleasant, and he broke away with a gasp, resting his forehead against hers as they caught their breath.
"Harry?" She gave a self-conscious smile as she sighed. "What are we doing?"
"Well, you see Hermione," he said softly as he ran his hands over her sides. "When two people care about each other, very much, and, well… when they're sober that is…"
She clapped her hand over his mouth and rolled her eyes. "Yes, I think we've all heard Tonks explain the facts of life, thank you very much Harry."
"Best graduation speech ever…" he gave a sentimental sigh.
"I'm going to forget you said that," she laughed.
She studied his down-turned face as he tenderly traced her hands with his own. "What on earth's gotten into you?" She whispered.
He tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "Just chalk it up to the head injury."
She leaned into his hand as he cupped her cheek. "Well, I'd certainly hate to take advantage of you while you're injured."
"Oh," he muttered. "Thank gods for that." He ran his hands over the small of her back "What exactly would this "advantage" entail?"
A slight blush rose in her cheeks as she gripped his collar and shifted until she was straddling his lap.
Oh. Wow. Um…"Okay, wait," he gasped as his harder parts responded to her softer ones.
Hermione froze over him. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't…I thought you wanted…oh I'm sorry." She started to ease away but his hands quickly gripped her waist to keep her from moving.
"No, I mean…I mean just a second," he groaned. Think un-Hermione thoughts. Playing Quidditch, doing laundry…Focus Potter. Dammit man…Try harder. No not that kind of harder…
She gave a secret smile as she watched his struggle. She was sure he was trying not to think about all the lovely things she was planning on doing to him.
"Harry…"
"Yeah sweets?" He said through gritted teeth.
She leaned forward and claimed his mouth, easing him onto the sandy trail and encouraging his own amorous response
by softly rocking her hips against his.
She broke away and began dotting his face with light pecks as her cascading curls veiled them both.
"Hermione, are you…" sure about this? He trailed off as her hands found their way under his shirt.
"Harry, are you …" joking? She bit back a moan as she felt the play of muscles under her fingertips.
Good. He gave a nervous smile.
Good. Her smile was genuine.
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Needless to say, the rest of the summer saw a vastly changed Harry. A sweetly moony-eyed, sleep-deprived, all-together-too-cheerful Harry.
…
The afternoon was golden and bright, and Harry and Hermione had sought relief from the relentless heat in the shady barn on the far ends of the grounds.
Harry had cleared an old workbench for his broomstick kit and Hermione curled up to read in a dusty corner.
Harry, however had taken to watching the scant sunlight play off her hair rather than repair his broom. He eyed the golden streaks that lit up her face as the light from the broken panes behind her illuminated her elegantly folded form.
"Harry?" She smiled.
Oops. She'd caught him staring again.
"What is it?" She asked.
"Nothing." He gave an evil grin, and in his endless Gryffindor maturity, he flicked a mud chip at her.
"Hey!" She cried as she picked it off her shirt and tossed it back at him, only to have him flick another.
She took a handful of stale-smelling hay from a nearby pile and threw it at him. The clump hit him squarely in the face
and broke, leaving several bits stuck in his hair.
"Oh that tears it," he said as he dove towards her and snatched her up.
"Harry!" She struggled against him, her eyes shining as he carried her up the rickety steps to the loft. He'd been wanting to carry her like this since that night when she'd wandered off. Of course, his motives weren't nearly as altruistic as Ron's.
"Harry…" she said warningly as he stopped at the ledge overlooking a pile of hay.
Altruism nothing. This was going to be hilarious.
"Hermes," he said. "Are you going to apologize?"
"Harry Potter you started it. And don't call me that," she added sternly. "Now put me down."
"Whatever you say Mione…." He sighed as he loosened his hold.
"No, don't you dare," she cried as she wrapped her arms around his neck and eyed the six-foot drop to the hay-pile beneath them
"Harry, don't! Don't let go…"
"Well then, you'll have to apologize."
"Apologize?!"
"Yup," he said smugly. He shifted a bit as she clung to him. "Better hurry sweets, my arms are getting tired."
"I didn't…I don't…" she eyed the hay pile beneath them.
"Sooo tired. So. Very. Tired," he shifted again.
She gave an audible gulp and took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Too bad Hermione because I…wait, what?" Harry came to stuttering halt. A simple apology was the last thing he'd expected. Really the whole thing had just been an excuse to get her up to the loft.
"I'm sorry Harry," she said as she began planting soft, slow kisses along his cheek.
"Um. What?" Harry's knees nearly buckled as her nibbling lips traveled down his jaw. Merlin she's good at that…wait, I'm supposed to be doing something…But what!? Hay…something…ledge…something…Wow that feels nice…
"So sorry darling," she whispered.
"Darling?" He gasped as she began suckling his throat.
"Mmmm," she moaned. "My darling."
Harry's hold loosened until she slid to her feet. Standing now, her arms came around his neck as she pressed insistently against him.
Lost to the sensation of a warm, whispering Hermione against him, Harry failed to notice her backing him towards the drop.
"Harry?" She cooed as her hands moved down his shoulders and onto his chest.
"Yes love," he breathed as he planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
"That was entirely too easy."
"What was?" He leaned forward, expecting to capture her lips in what he imagine would be an impressive display of unbridled passion. Instead he found himself falling off the drop onto the pile of hay.
He gave a defeated groan and stared at the ceiling a moment before rolling to the floor. He lay on the ground as she approached, resigning himself to what would no doubt become his blissful place in life: helpless at the feet of an endlessly-amused Hermione.
He propped himself up on his elbows and shook his head. "Oh. Sure it's easy when you just shove someone. Try carrying them."
She knelt next to him and brushed the hay off his shoulders. "Well, you did start it Harry."
"Yeah, I did." He gave a sad smile. "Still, that last part was a bit cruel."
"Cruel?" She asked, furrowing her brow.
He shrugged. "Calling me 'darling' and all."
"Oh?" She smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "You liked that?"
"Yeah," he admitted weakly. "Kinda did."
"Well," she put her hand to his cheek, "you are you know."
He leaned into her caress. "What?" He asked absently.
"Darling," she whispered as she planted a feathery kiss at the corner of his mouth.
"Really?" He sighed, hoping he didn't sound as pathetic as he thought he did.
She nodded as she eased him back onto the hay. She batted his hands away as she crawled onto his lap, straddling him snuggly as she ran her hands over his chest and around his shoulders.
He reached for her again, only to have her brush his hands away and shake her head.
"Hermione…" he gasped as she shifted her hips over his.
She smiled shyly as she began oh-so-slowly undoing the buttons of her shirt, apparently intent on driving him to an early grave.
Making a note to punish her later for being such a tasty tease, he tucked his hands behind his head, content to merely enjoy her little show.
Shirt cast aside, he gripped the back of her neck and drew her to him, much too single-minded to hold a grudge of any size.
"Not going to push me into anymore hay piles are you?" He asked as he took her bottom lip in his mouth.
"Only," She ran her tongue over his mouth playfully and started to undo his belt, "if you ask nicely…"
"Oh, I can ask nicely," he grinned, his hands dancing over the soft skin of her sides until he reached the clasp of her bra. "I can ask very nicely…"
------------
During Hogan's Heroes….
Enough was enough.
Harry had watched Hermione work her concealing spells, go through the commands and strategies all businessy-type and no
nonsense-like during their mad dash through Team Doom's territory.
Never mind the fact he'd wanted to tackle her a dozen times tonight.
But, no. He'd been the helpful little engine. He hadn't risked a single touch or heated glance during their rather daring escape from Draco's snares, and instead waited until they reached the safety of the stone wall to pull her roughly to him.
"You were amazing," he said, gathering her in his arms. He ran his hand through her hair, working it out of its tight braid as his other hand ran over her perfect little bum.
"You weren't so bad yourself…" she countered as he cut her off with a desperate kiss.
"Harry," she gasped as she broke away. He wasn't sure if she was just finishing her last sentence or trying to tell him something else entirely.
"Sodding…what?" he muttered as he searched for some type of tie or mechanism to her trousers.
"Harry," she whispered before she began nibbling his ear, "we have to…goodness…we have to go…"
"What?" Harry asked absently, too busy congratulating himself on managing to find several buttons while Hermione's lips were doing….dear Germanus yes…what they were so very good at doing.
She bit back moan as the cold night air and Harry's warm hand suddenly found their way to the soft skin of her inner thighs.
Giving up all pretense of resistance she caught him in a hard kiss.
"We'll have to (gasp) hurry," she sighed as she ran her tongue over his lips.
Without a word he lifted her to him and set her on the stone wall. Her legs hooked around his waist in what was fast becoming something of habit. A habit Harry was sure he'd never tire of. In fact, he swore right then to encourage similar tendencies.
"There's my girl," he mumbled as she ground herself him and began whispering exactly what she wanted him to do about it. His hand began shaking with want as it reached between them and began working at the latch of his own jeans.
"Hey you two!" Ron's smug voice rang out.
Harry and Hermione both turned, only to be blinded by the Luminosed lights of several wands.
"Dear gods…" Hermione muttered as she pushed Harry away and hopped off the wall, hastily straightening her clothes. Harry did likewise and braced himself for the fun Team Doom would no doubt be having at their expense.
Dear gods indeed.
"This is hardly the time guys." Ron said merrily, stepping out of the shadows. "I mean, hey, we're in training and all. Not very professional-like. Tut tut tut…"
"Yeah. I quit." Draco said in a prissy tone. "I can't work like this. You people. Honestly. Honestly, you people…Honestly. Tut tut and so forth. Honestly. Yes, honestly."
"Draco, you can't quit yet," Luna smiled and shook her head.
"Yeah. If anyone's quitting it's me. I quit hours ago," Ron pouted.
"Okay, I won't quit, but I'm taking a break," Draco conceded.
"Well," answered Luna thoughtfully, "you can only take a break if it's to sneak off to shag. That appears to be the way it's done."
"Yeah, and I did it first," Ron said proudly. "So you guys are just a pair of pathetic…" he turned, expecting to find two shamefaced Gryffindors. However, Hermione and Harry were long gone, safely back in the barn where they could tear each other's clothes off in peace.
"So." Draco smiled and shrugged. "We win."
Ron nodded. "Yeah. That's twice now."
"Go team." Luna nodded.
The three skipped off to find Lav and declare victory properly: with much merrymaking and Team Doom boasting.
Obviously, poor Lav would have to bear the unsportsmanlike-burden alone tonight, Harry and Hermione had other plans.
-------
Over the next few weeks Harry and Hermione met in all the places he'd hidden before. He'd run his hands over her in the older guestrooms until the first light of dawn. Or she'd crawl in under tatter throw-rugs and do delicious things with her mouth. Or they'd spoon together at the foot of his bed or curl up in the old servant's quarters, more than comfortable in their drab surroundings.
The meetings would start civil enough. Both well-behaved Gryffindors, they knew that the Order would hardly encourage completely clandestine trysts, so they'd begin their late-night rendezvous with some light conversation.
Sitting on opposite ends of a sofa or bed or loveseat, a carefully kept space between them, Hermione would ask him about his day or his studies or his training in whatever cozy cranny he'd found. Harry, in turn, would answer, ask some questions in return, and smile and nod in a polite way.
Tonight's meeting proved no different.
"Training? Right." Harry began. "Well, I practiced my Q&A drills…" until you pulled me into the carriage house and let me undress you with my teeth. So, yeah…it was great…
He subtly moved towards her, hoping to catch some of her clover scent.
"Oh really?" Hermione asked, fascinated by the play of muscles under his shirt. "How'd that go?"
He was too busy watching her lips to answer. Instead he decided to move a little closer, just to be sure…of whatever…
"Harry?" She worried her bottom lip as his arms flexed while he shifted in the seat. Their knees brushed as he settled closer to her.
"How'd what go?" He muttered absently as a treacherous hand crept up her thigh.
She didn't bother to answer. Instead she gripped his collar and pulled him to her. Conversation gave way to groans as their kisses deepened and he pinned her to the seat.
"Q&A," she gasped as his hands found their way under her shirt.
"What's that?" He asked as he deftly unhooked her bra.
"What's what?" She muttered as she broke away and lifted his shirt over his head. She ran her hands over his back and began kissing and licking her way down his front.
"Hermione…?" Harry asked as she got to her knees on the floor beside him.
"Just something I learned at lunch," she said as she undid his fly.
"Wait…What?" He gasped.
"Kidding," she answered absently.
"Better be…" was his last coherent thought as she began what Tonks' had explained in such great detail (several times over) during a recent talk. Amazing how much better the whole thing worked when she didn't have to use carrots.
-----------
Where is she? He thought as he paced around the attic.
Usually she'd beat him to whatever spot they'd chosen. She'd be there and then he'd be there and then they'd talk a bit and tackle each other. Easy.
But tonight…she was late. An hour late.
She wasn't coming…or coming.
Darn it.
He crept down to her room, no light. Calm down Potter…no sleepwalking…just get your wand and do the Selnor Spell, and then never let her out of your bloody sight again so help me…
He opened her door and peeked in. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found her lying on her bed, fully dressed and face down in a book.
"Poor sweets," he muttered as he carefully took a seat beside her. He marked her place in the book and placed it on the end table. He then pulled a quilt around her and kissed her forehead, nuzzling her neck a bit as he said goodnight.
"Harry," she smiled. He laughed softly as her hands came to rest on his shoulders and she began a sleepy trail of kisses along his cheek.
"Hope that wasn't just a lucky guess…" he said fondly.
"Don't go," she muttered as she held his collar.
"Won't be able to if you don't let go."
"Good. Don't go. Please. Just stay," she said as she pulled him to her.
He wordlessly crawled in next to her, gathering a quilt around them as she snuggled up against him.
She gave a kittenish yawn and wrapped her arms around him. "Love you Harry," she sighed as she rested in the crook of his neck.
"Love…what?"
It was the first time that he'd heard her say it, thus affording his first opportunity of saying it in return.
However, despite the fact that she might not hear him or even remember it if she did, he just couldn't say 'I love you too.'
He tried. But he couldn't.
It was just another "Harry Potter hang-up" she'd have to get used to. Some people weren't built to say it, and he was one of them. He couldn't manage a 'yeah, me too,' or 'I love you back,' or 'love you lots.'
Harry couldn't think of anyway to say it.
Anyway other than, "I love you too Hermione."
Really, the only way it sounded right was with her name in there somewhere.