A Dream is a Wish... by H_HrFan Rating: R Genres: Romance, Humor Relationships: Harry & Hermione Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6 Published: 18/04/2006 Last Updated: 18/04/2006 Status: Completed When Hermione makes a slip about a dream she had, Harry calls her on it…and fills in the blanks she refuses to share. 1. A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes ------------------------------------- DISCLAIMER: It all belongs to JKR and her affiliates…of which, sadly, I am not. A/N: I must have a thing for Fairy Tales. If so, it is just coming to light for me as I've never realized it before I started writing HP FanFiction. Hmm - curiouser and curiouser…. This was written to fulfill a challenge at a site I'm a member of. The challenge word was `dream' and this is the result. Synopsis: When Hermione makes a slip about a dream she had, Harry calls her on it…and fills in the blanks she refuses to share. Harry and Hermione might have kissed, but they hadn't gotten any further than that, until now… *** “So, what is it tonight?” Harry asked as he settled in on the couch. Hermione sat down beside him and pressed the buttons on the remote, seemingly oblivious to his question. He sat back and sighed. “Must be a chick flick.” Hermione cut her eyes to him and smiled. “No, it's not a `chick flick'. It's something mum sent to me a few days ago. Don't worry, you'll like it.” She sat back on the couch as the previews began to play. “Come on, your turn. I picked the movie, so you get to lie down.” Harry's eyes lit up. “I love the consolation prize,” he quipped as he happily put his head in her lap and stretched out. Hermione's fingers went straight to his hair and she smiled down at him. “I know. And next time it's my turn.” She felt the change. His body tensed up as he leaned forward toward the telly. “You're kidding me.” “Nope.” “Cinderella?” “Yup.” The air went out of him with a resigned `whoosh' before she felt his body relax. “Fine,” he sighed. “But make sure you keep doing that thing with your fingers so I can fall asleep faster.” Hermione laughed and bopped his head playfully. “You're supposed to be *watching* it with me. Not sleeping while I watch by myself.” “Pick a more exciting movie next time and I will.” They sat in silence for only a few minutes when Cinderella began to sing— *“**A dream is a wish your heart makes* *When you're fast asleep* *In dreams you will lose your heart ache* *Whatever you wish for you keep**”* “Do you suppose that's true?” Hermione asked wistfully. “Suppose what's true?” “That a dream is a wish your heart makes. Do you think it's true?” Harry shook his head and expelled an audible breath. “I hope not. Some of the dreams I've had—” “But you've had dreams that don't involve Voldemort, haven't you? Like when you were younger?” “Well, yeah…but I'm not sure they were a wish my heart would make.” He sat up and looked at her curiously. “What do you think? Do you have dreams that you think are wishes?” “Well, yeah. Just last night, I—” her eyes went wide and she caught herself mid-sentence. Harry smiled. “Just last night you what, Hermione?” *“Cinderella!”* *“I'm coming!”* Hermione shot Cinderella a look of disdain…as though she'd intentionally given Harry a hint as to her dream wish. Harry caught her expression and followed her gaze. He picked up the remote and rewound the movie, listening closely to what was being said. *“**I'm coming!**”* A look of understanding dawned on his face and he tried to contain his grin. He jokingly raised one eyebrow and rolled his eyes toward her. “Was it a dream of questionable content, Miss Granger?” Hermione shook her head and mumbled a distracted, “No.” She continued to stare in the direction of the movie but her mind was obviously elsewhere. Harry leaned in closer, hoping she'd elaborate. “There was no questioning the content,” she added quietly, more to herself than as an admission to Harry. Harry started to laugh and Hermione's cheeks burned red. She turned slowly to face him, her eyes wide with embarrassment. “Please tell me I didn't say that out loud.” “Well—” he said, drawing the word out far longer than was necessary. Hermione's eyes dropped as she took a deep breath. “That answers that, then,” she muttered. She quickly turned her attention back to the movie. Harry wasn't ready to let her off so he plunked his elbow down on the back of the couch and shifted around until he was facing her. “Want to tell me about it?” “No,” she snapped. “Not particularly.” She stared stubbornly ahead, refusing to turn and face him. Harry inched closer and she fought hard to keep her eyes glued to the television. He leaned in until she could feel his breath against her ear. “Did it go something like this—” The words he whispered were clearly reflected in her ever-changing expression --- shock —> embarrassment —> mischievous gleam —> arousal. She turned her head, unable to keep her eyes averted any longer. His face was inches from hers. His lips, moistened by the tip of his tongue only seconds before, looked soft, full, and utterly kissable. Her eyes drifted slowly up his face until they met his. “Harry…?” Harry's eyes darkened as the movement of her tongue slipping out to wet her lips caught his attention. His gaze drifted upward until their eyes locked once more. The heat began to rise between them and they closed their eyes at the intensity of it. Slowly, they leaned closer. Harry opened his eyes as their hot breath mingled, heating their nearly-joined lips. Hermione's eyes were closed, her face flushed in anticipation. A moment's apprehension caught them both off-guard… “We should stop—” “Don't stop—” Their words were entwined, spoken on top of each other, indiscernible… “What did you say?” Her eyes slowly drifted open to meet his. He was so wrapped up in the sensuality of her stare that he forgot his question until he heard her soft reply. “I said, `don't stop'.” Her words were spoken in the lowest, most seductively thick voice to ever grace his ears. Without a second thought he reached out and brought her to him. Everything - his hesitation, his excuses, his doubts - was momentarily lost the instant their lips met. The kiss lasted until Hermione had to shift her position. “Hang on. I have to move.” She turned to better face him when his hands locked on her waist and he hauled her up to straddle his lap. In no time his lips were doing wondrous things to her neck. “Better?” Hermione spread her legs wider, effectively lowering herself until she was pressed against him in a most seductive way. She rocked her hips and smiled at Harry's sharp intake of breath. “Better,” she confirmed with another jostling of her hips. “Feels good like this.” Reluctantly, Harry pulled back to look at her. “Hermione, we…” he closed his eyes and drew in a quivering breath, “I mean, what's happening?” Hermione leaned in with a chaste kiss. “I don't know,” she softly replied. “But I don't want it to stop, Harry, please. Just go with it.” She shuddered and ground her hips against him again. “Hermione, we have to think about this—” His final attempt at reason was cut off abruptly when Hermione placed his hand upon her breast with a murmured, “Shut up, Harry.” “Shutting up,” he said as his hand pressed harder against her and he massaged, without restraint, through the t-shirt she wore. Hermione reached down and fumbled for the hem of his shirt. “Off!” she demanded as she struggled to pull it free. Harry leaned forward and raised his arms. Hermione pulled off his shirt and tossed it haphazardly behind her. She then crossed her arms over her stomach and pulled off her own. “Only fair,” she shrugged with poised nonchalance when she caught sight of Harry's open-mouthed stare. Harry's hands immediately went to caress the sides of her waist. “Indeed,” he agreed. His fingers slid just under the strap of her bra. “But I don't have one of these.” Hermione giggled and playfully slapped his hands away with a soft reprimand. “That tickles.” Harry, with a courage born of - what he hoped wasn't stupidity - leaned forward and kissed the swell of her breasts before pulling at the top of the cup with his teeth. “I promise it won't tickle if you take this thing off.” Hermione arched her back as she leaned slightly forward. Harry's hands slid up her waist and covered her breasts while Hermione reached behind her and unfastened the clasp. Harry felt the bra loosen and fall into his hands; he watched its progress as it slipped down her arms and off her hands. He tossed it behind her and slowly raked his eyes up her stomach, pausing only briefly at her chest before his eyes sought hers. Hermione chuckled. “Its fine, Harry,” she reassured *again*. Harry shook his head as though to clear the heady fog that seemed to have settled there. He opened his mouth to speak just as Hermione's hands pushed her breasts forward and only an inch from his face. “Shutting up,” he mumbled again as he drew a nipple into his mouth and replaced her hands with his. He gently caressed her as his tongue laved first one nipple and then the other. Hermione's back arched higher as her hands knotted in Harry's hair. “H-Harry” - her grip tightened as he nipped at her flesh - “sh-should we - mmm - move this—” her words fell with breathy moans and Harry pulled her down with an intense desire to snog her completely senseless. His hands ran chaotically through her hair as the intensity of their desire escalated. He moaned into her mouth, a chill ran down her spine and her hips ground forward. Harry's arms encircled her waist and he pulled her closer until their bodies were flush, “move,” came his breathy, one-word reply. Hermione made a move to stand up but Harry tightened his hold on her. He budged forward on the couch until he could get a solid footing and then stood, carrying her with him. Halfway down the hallway he stopped and looked around. “I don't think this is a good spot, Harry,” Hermione chuckled against his ear. She looked around and raised her eyebrows…“Although—” Harry laughed. “Shut up, Hermione,” he gently chastised. “I was just wondering which room…yours or mine?” Hermione nipped at his earlobe then ran her tongue up the shell of his ear. “Well—” Harry nodded. “That's what I thought…” They looked at each other and smiled. “Closest,” they said together. Harry took a few steps forward and kicked open Hermione's bedroom door. Hermione cringed at the sound it made when it hit the wall. “Have to fix that in the morning,” she noted aloud. “Fix what?” Hermione pointed to the wall behind the door. “The hole you put in the wall with the doorknob,” she stated. “Have to remember to fix it.” Harry laughed and rolled his eyes. “Only you, Hermione.” Hermione harrumphed. “Well, it's not like I can just” - she squealed loudly as Harry dropped her unceremoniously onto the bed - “leave it.” Harry crawled up between her legs and settled himself over her. “Leave it, Hermione,” he said as he lowered his lips to hers, “as a reminder of the effect you have on me.” Hermione smiled impishly up at him. “Can I use it like a bell?” Harry looked down at her questioningly and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “You know,” she opened her eyes wide, in feigned innocence, “every time I bang it open you come running to meet my every” - she leaned up and whispered in his ear - “*sexual*” - she laid back down and cocked her head sweetly - “whim?” Harry rolled them over until Hermione was lying on top of him. “Whatever the lady wishes,” he replied with a roguish grin. Hermione sat up and looked down on him. “And dreams,” she added softly as her hands began exploring the contours of his chest. -->