Hunting Horcruxes

Sidewalk Doctor

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 01/05/2006
Last Updated: 01/05/2006
Status: completed

Harry and Hermione are stranded together while hunting horcruxes. Yeah, you can figure out where it goes from there.

Chapters

1. untitled

1. untitled

Set in 7 th year. AU kinda. Spoilers up to HBP.

Harry and Hermione stumbled into the deserted building, the door slamming shut behind them. Instantly, everything went pitch-black.

There was a loud thump and Hermione grabbed Harry's arm. “Ow… Harry, I can't see a blasted thing!”

“You OK?”

“Yeah, I just hit my foot… oof!”

Harry tripped and fell, dragging Hermione with him. The pair tumbled down a short set of steps until they finally hit the floor, Harry flat on his back and Hermione on top of him.

It was still pitch-dark.

“Harry, I'm so sorry… are you all right?” Hermione asked with concern.

“I've been better. Fortunately you don't weigh very much.”

Her light, silvery laughter floated into the dark room. “Thanks… I think.”

“Umm… Hermione?”

“Yeah?”

“You're ummm… on my wand.”

Oh, she could definitely feel his wand, all right. But she didn't imagine that was the wand he meant. She was straddling him and awkwardly shifted her position, trying to get his wand out from his back pocket.

“Hermione, what are you doing?” Her hand was on his butt and definitely nowhere near his wand. Although given the way she was wriggling on top of him, she wouldn't have any trouble locating his other wand.

“Sorry… maybe you should keep your wand elsewhere?”

“Well, what about yours?”

“I dropped it. Yours will have to do…. Oh, here it is.” She produced the wand—the magic one, you perverts—and uttered, “Lumos!”

A pale bluish light glowed from the tip of Harry's wand, illuminating a small, dingy room that appeared to have been deserted for ages. A thick layer of dust covered nearly every available surface, and cobwebs clung to the walls and ceiling.

“Well, it's not exactly five stars, but it'll have to do,” Hermione remarked. She staggered to her feet, helping Harry up. “Lupin said we'd be safe here.” She turned to her best friend with worried eyes. “Do you think they'll come back for us?”

“Of course they will,” Harry assured her. “They'll be fine… don't worry.”

He laid his hand on her shoulder as a gesture of comfort. She regarded him anxiously for a moment, then gradually relaxed, as she always did when she was with him. Harry had a way of making her feel better about anything, despite how dire the situation seemed.

By the light of Harry's wand, she located her own wand lying on the floor about five feet from them. She snatched it up and uttered “Lumos!” while Harry took stock of their surroundings. The furnishings were pitifully meager—a small table with two uncomfortable wooden chairs and a cot covered with an old scratchy blanket.

Hermione came over to join him, and by the light of her wand, Harry could see she was quite the worse for wear. She had dirt smudged across her face and a few minor scratches and cuts, but thankfully she didn't seem to be hurt too badly. He let out a quiet sigh of relief. He didn't know what he would do if she'd gotten seriously hurt—or worse--while on this journey with him.

“Ugh, there's nothing here… no food or anything,” Hermione observed, dismayed. “This is gross.” She started wiping off the table, doubling over in a coughing fit as the clouds of dust filled the air.

“Hermione, forget about it,” Harry told her. “Are we really going to use that table anyway?”

“I highly doubt it,” she replied, suddenly seized by a bizarre urge to laugh. They were stranded in the middle of who knows where on a hunt for horcruxes, separated from their friends, hiding out in some deserted hut until the danger passed, and she was worried about the dustiness of the table.

“I've still got some water in my pack… how about you?”

“I'm good on water. Almost out of food though.”

“I've still got a bit of cauldron cake. We can share.”

The two of them sat down on the floor, leaning against the cot as Harry broke the cauldron cake in half and passed one piece to Hermione.

“Mmm, stale cauldron cake. This is the life,” she joked. Without thinking, Harry splashed a few drops of water onto his handkerchief and reached out to wipe the dirt smudges from her face. Startled, Hermione was silent for once, gazing at him with wide brown eyes.

For a moment, something in the air seemed to shift between them, and he wondered if she sensed it, too. And then, just as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and he lowered the handkerchief and regarded her with an awkward smile. “You had some dirt on your face…”

“Oh… thanks.” She flashed him an uncharacteristically shy smile and went back to what was left of her cauldron cake. “Are you sure you're all right?”

“Yeah… been better, but it's just cuts and bruises. You?”

“Same. We're tough,” she quipped, raking a hand through her tangled brown curls. “We've gotten out of worse scrapes than this one.”

“True,” he agreed.

They lapsed into easy, companionable silence for a while as they finished their meager meal. “Well, looks like we're spending the night here,” Harry remarked. “Maybe we should try to get some sleep?”

“Probably a good idea,” Hermione agreed, although she didn't look altogether comfortable with the notion. She wanted to be alert and awake should they find themselves in danger again.

“OK… just… ummm…” Lord, he sounded like a stammering 11-year-old. “One bed.”

She arched an eyebrow at him, seeming to take great amusement in his discomfort. “Harry, we're almost eighteen. I think we can share a bed without… you know.”

“Umm, yeah, I suppose.” He felt stupid.

“I hope you don't toss and turn a lot, because this bed really isn't very big.” She stood up, wrinkling her nose at the scratchy blanket. “Maybe we should forgo covers.”

“Yeah.” Harry watched as she yanked the blanket off the bed, sneezing repeatedly as dust flew up all over the place. He quickly came to her aid and tossed the blanket aside, sneezing as well.

“Oh, God, I think I've got dust in my nose,” Hermione muttered, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Gross!”

“Right there with you,” he commiserated.

They both stood there for a moment, looking at the bed, neither of them moving.

“I'm not really tired right now,” Hermione confessed. “Are you?”

“Not really,” Harry answered.

They sat back down side-by-side on the floor.

“So… ummm… what happened with you and Ron?” Harry asked, fumbling for some kind of small talk to distract from the weirdness of that moment.

Talk about picking the wrong question. Looking vaguely flustered, Hermione said, “Nothing, really.”

“Nothing?”

She shook her head. “It's strange, you know? I spent all these years wanting to be with him and now that it's actually happening… I'm not so sure anymore. It's like… I don't know, maybe I was more into the idea of Ron than Ron himself… if that makes any sense.”

“Actually, it does,” Harry remarked. He identified with that feeling more than he cared to admit.

“I don't know… I just feel all confused right now. I don't know what I want from him,” Hermione confessed. “Maybe we'd have all been best off just staying friends.”

“Maybe,” Harry agreed.

More silence.

“So, umm… how's everything with Ginny?” This time it was Hermione breaking the silence.

“Oh. She's good. I'm glad she's back at Hogwarts and safe.”

“Too bad you had to break her heart to do it.”

Harry looked at Hermione, discomfited but not altogether surprised at her perceptiveness. “I wanted to protect her. It was the only way I knew how.”

“I know.” She cast him a knowing glance. “Yet, by that logic, you could've broken up with me and Ron to keep us safe, but you didn't.”

“Oh, like you two would've ever let me go off without you.”

“Touche,” Hermione agreed, her mouth curving into a half-smile, “but still… it would've been nice to have you at least try to be impossibly noble on us.”

“I did try,” Harry admitted, although he granted it was a rather half-assed attempt. “I don't know, I guess I'm so used to having you here that I just couldn't imagine being without you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? I don't vex you terribly with my bossiness and bookishness?”

“You haven't had any moldy old books with us on this trip,” Harry joked. “Probably because they don't fit in your pack.”

She playfully smacked him on the arm. “Very funny… even if it is true.”

He laughed, too. After a moment he said, “You know, Hermione, for all the things you believe vex me so much… I honestly wouldn't have it any other way. If I had to be stuck in some abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere, I can't think of anyone else I'd want with me.”

She peered at him for a moment, as if unsure whether to believe him or not. “Not even Ron?” she asked.

He hesitated. “OK, well, maybe Ron.”

She smacked him on the arm again and, laughing, he swatted her arm back. They were still laughing when a sudden boom! outside startled them.

Hermione's eyes went perfectly round and they instantly went silent. Harry extinguished their wands immediately. Another loud boom! sounded and instinctively, Harry grabbed Hermione and pulled her to the ground with him. Shielding her body with his, he waited for several tense moments. But there were no more noises from outside, and soon there were absolutely no sounds except for their own breathing.

“Do you think….” Hermione whispered, her breath warm against Harry's ear.

“I think it's passed,” he whispered back, acutely aware of the feel of her hair against his cheek. It was surprisingly soft, almost silky. It smelled sweet and incredibly nice… he wondered what shampoo she used.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, pretty sure.”

“OK.” Neither of them moved. She was lying beneath him on the hardwood floor, her hands gripping his shoulders and his denim-clad leg between hers. They didn't dare even shift their positions… after all, they weren't sure they were in the clear just yet.

“I think… we can get up now,” she murmured after a moment, her words muffled against the side of his face. In the deep silence he'd become oddly aware of her heartbeat, the way he could almost feel her heart thumping practically right against his. Very rapidly.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“You're on top of me.”

“Oh.” Right. He started to shift his position, slowly raising himself up on his arms. He fumbled around in the dark until his fingers curled around of their wands, and said, “Lumos!”

The pale blue light illuminated the room again, and he was able to see her face. It was just inches from his, her soft lips slightly parted and her eyes round and curious. She blinked and he noticed how long her lashes were… long and graceful and pretty, and he wondered how he'd never seen how very delightfully female Hermione was.

He was aware of every little sensation now, the warmth of her hands where they held his shoulders and the softness of her body beneath his and how un weird this felt, when it should've been extremely weird.

She was his best friend.

And yet, the feelings he was entertaining at the moment were anything but friendly.

“Harry…” Hermione murmured, her voice raising slightly on the last syllable, almost in a question. Hearing her speak drew his attention to her lips. And then…

The next part happened before he was even aware he was doing it. He leaned over and kissed her, refusing to think about what it would mean and what would happen next and anything else, really, but satisfying this fierce impulse that had come over him. She seemed startled at first, but slowly sank into the kiss, opening her mouth to him and responding in earnest. His tongue stroked against hers while his hands threaded through her hair, feeling it slide through his fingers like raw silk. She made a soft little mewling sound against his lips and wiggled beneath him, her hand sliding up the back of his neck and into his messy dark hair. His body responded instantly and in a moment she was definitely going to feel his, erm, wand.

His hands moved over her body as though discovering her for the first time. He didn't even stop to reflect on how strange it was to be kissing Hermione like this, because it wasn't strange at all. It felt so natural and right. Meanwhile, her hands explored his body with the same sense of wonder, and suddenly, there were way too many layers of fabric between them and he became aware that the floor wasn't the best place to… umm… continue their activities.

Hermione seemed to realize it at the same time. “Harry?”.

“Yes?”

“Not that I'm not… umm… enjoying this, but this floor isn't really comfortable, and my back is starting to hurt….”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Rather sheepishly, he staggered to his feet and helped her up. They sank down onto the bed together, Hermione climbing on top of him and taking up where they left off.

His hands roamed over her back as she kissed his neck, her lips forging a trail across his skin that burned like fireflies and sent an electrical shock straight to his… well, you get the idea. His fingers seized the hem of her sweatshirt and she lifted her arms, allowing him to pull the garment over her head. Her thin white tank top followed suit, and then she hastily divested him of his jacket and t-shirt.

It wasn't warm in the room, not by any means, but somehow, that didn't seem to matter much to them. He barely felt the cool air on his skin as her hands blazed a trail over his chest, sliding around his shoulders as his own hands caressed her bare back. His hands slid down over the soft curve of her bottom, pulling her against him. She arched her body instinctively, the bulge in his jeans brushing against her stomach. She gasped into his mouth, her hand creeping down past his stomach to the waist of his jeans.

Harry knew if he didn't stop this immediately, he'd be done for before he even got her out of her jeans. “Ummm… Hermione?”

“Hmmm…?” Her finger traced the fly of his jeans and he nearly jumped. Oh, dear Merlin.

“Have you… ummm… I mean… have you done this before?”

“Oh. Um, not exactly.”

He frowned slightly. Not exactly? What was that supposed to mean, and why was he afraid to ask?

“Have you?” she asked.

“Ummm… not exactly,” he answered.

“OK. Well… hang on.” She climbed off of him.

“Where are you going?”

“Contraceptive charm.” She managed to locate her wand, uttered the charm, and climbed back on top of him. “All right, that's taken care of.”

“Oh, good. I'm glad you thought of it.”

“I should hope at least one of us would.”

“OK….” Now what?

“This is a bit awkward,” she said, smiling a bit sheepishly.

“Yeah, just a little.” He smiled back.

“So, umm… where were we?”

“You were… ummm…”

“Oh yes. Right.” She started to unbutton his jeans.

Whoa. Hold up. “Change of plans,” Harry said, and flipped them over so she was lying beneath him and he was straddling her.

“Ooh, taking charge, eh?” Hermione flashed him an arch smile, which wasn't helping his situation much. “I like that.” He was kissing her stomach, gradually working his way up starting at the waistband of her jeans. “Mmmmm yes… I really like that.”

His mouth claimed hers again as his hand eased higher, cupping her lace-covered breast in his palm. He traced his thumb over her nipple, feeling it tighten and peak against the thin fabric. She sighed into his mouth, which he took as encouragement to continue. Her breathing became light and shallow and she started to squirm beneath him, clearly pleased with what he was doing. “Harry?” she said breathlessly.

“Yes?”

“Take it off.”

“Umm… what?”

“My bra. Take it off.”

“Oh. Right….” He reached behind her trying to find the clasp, fumbling around with no success. Crap. He felt like an idiot. Talk about ruining the moment.

“It fastens in the front. Oh… never mind, I'll do it.” She reached up, flicked open the clasp and tossed the white lacy undergarment aside.

If Harry had thought he was in danger of losing it before, he definitely was now.

“Harry… are you going to stare at my boobs all night or are we going to do this?”

“Oh. Sorry.”

She laughed. “It's all right… I assume you like what you see.”

Oh yes, he did. “You,” he whispered to Hermione, dropping light kisses around her ear, “are so beautiful.”

“Oh, my God, that was so cheesy.”

He froze.

“But it's cute… I like it. Continue.”

He wasn't sure what to say to that, but just responded by kissing her again.

Her hands caressed his back as she began to move beneath him, her breasts pillowed against his chest as her hips rose in an eloquent arch. He moved in tandem with her, the bulge in his jeans pressing against the V where her thighs met. The friction through all the layers of fabric was almost unbearable, and after a few moments, he was starting to worry about staying power again.

Hermione seemed to sense his fear and reached for the fly of his jeans, hastily unzipping them and sliding them over his hips. She lifted her hips as he helped her wriggle out of her own jeans… sweet Merlin, what was that she was wearing? Why, it was just a flimsy piece of pink lace held in place by two strings….

“Nice boxers, Harry.”

Naturally he had to be wearing the plaid ones today.

“I, uhhh….” He couldn't think of a single thing to say.

Hermione took advantage of his temporarily frozen state to reach out and ease his boxers over his hips, helping him out of them. He finally came back to his senses enough to help her wiggle out of that flimsy excuse for knickers and then…

She reached out to curl her fingers around his erection, but he knew that if he let her continue, he would risk greatly embarrassing himself, not to mention ruining the experience for her. He slid his hand over hers, stopping her. “Don't.”

Hermione looked bewildered. “But don't you want me to….”

Harry shook his head. “Not now….”

“Oh….” The rest of her reply was muffled by his kiss, to which she readily responded. His hand slid over the soft triangle of damp curls at the apex of her thighs and over the seam of her sex, causing her to inhale sharply against his mouth. Her gasp gave way to a soft sigh as his fingers probed her gently, trying to find a rhythm that she liked. He knew a little bit about what to do… bits and pieces he'd heard from other guys… but actually doing it with a girl felt really… terrifying. Fortunately for him, Hermione wasn't shy about showing him what she wanted. Her hand slid over Harry's and guided him, until his thumb found the soft nub of flesh at her core and his finger eased gently into her passage.

He stroked deeply with one finger, then two, her dampness coating his fingers as her insides fluttered lightly around him. Her breathing grew quick and shallow as her hips bucked against his hand, her body arching in a plaintive plea for more. Harry knew he wasn't going to last much longer, so he moved above her, settled himself between her thighs. “Hermione… I'm sorry, I….”

“It's all right, Harry,” she said breathlessly. “I'm ready.”

Her eyes slid closed as he slowly, haltingly eased inside of her, her grip tightening on his shoulders as he pushed deeper into her. He knew it was her first time and it would probably be painful, no matter how hard he tried to make it good for her, and he felt guilty about it. “I don't want to hurt you….”

“It's going to hurt, Harry. It's all right. I trust you.”

Green eyes met brown ones and in that moment, he had never felt closer to her—to anyone. An emotion both wonderful and terrifying welled up inside of him and for a moment, he was too overwhelmed to even think. Then he leaned forward and captured her mouth in a deep kiss, hoping to somehow convey the depth of that feeling and see if she was feeling the same thing, too.

His kiss muffled her soft whimper he broke through the final barrier of her virginity, and for a moment he lay still, letting her get used to the feel of him. “Are you….?”

“Yes, Harry, I'm fine,” Hermione assured him. “I like the feel of you inside of me… it's nice. It's right. ”

She smiled up at him, and warmth flowed over him from head to toe. He leaned over to kiss her again, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and mimicking his movements below as slowly, gently, he began to move within her. Waves of heat slid through him with every thrust and drag, her insides sheathing him like warm, slick velvet. His breathing fell into a rhythm that matched the beating of her heart as incendiary sensation rose and built within him. The tension coiled tighter and tighter with every ragged breath and blissful sigh until it reached an almost unbearable crescendo, his control stretched as thin and tight as a wire as her nails dug into his skin and a soft cry spilled from her lips. She was close; he could feel it, and struggled to hold on just long enough to bring her to completion. When she climaxed he felt it through every part of him, shaking him to the core and echoing through his body in a thousand blissful aftershocks. The tenuous strings that held his own control snapped, his own climax raging through him as he drove into her with a final deep thrust. He worried briefly that he'd hurt her but she seemed to like it, her ragged breathing matching his own as he collapsed beside her and they slowly spiraled down together.

“Well… that was… nice,” she murmured, gazing at him through lowered lashes.

“Nice?” he joked, raising an eyebrow. “That's the best you can do?”

“Well, how would you describe it?”

“Umm… really nice.” They both laughed. He rolled over, pulling her against him spoon-fashion. He pulled the sheet over them to ward off some of the cold.

“Are you cold?” he asked solicitously.

“No… I'm fine with you here.” She leaned up, smiling at him over her shoulder. He leaned over and captured her lips in a soft, sweet kiss. Her eyes slid closed as she snuggled against him, his arm slung around her slender waist and his warm breath upon her neck. “Harry?” she murmured, already half asleep.

“Yes?”

“We shouldn't sleep too long… you know…and let our guard down.”

“I know. We'll just rest for a minute.”

The next thing they knew, they were both roused from deep sleep by what sounded like footsteps on the stairs and voices. “Harry? Hermione? Are you here?” Lupin's voice called.

Hermione's eyes snapped open as Harry hastily reached for his glasses, wondering just how on earth he was going to fudge his way out of this. But it didn't matter. Lupin strode in barely a moment later, with Tonks behind him. He looked oddly unsurprised to see Harry and Hermione curled under the sheet together, their clothes tossed unceremoniously beside the cot along with their packs.

Hermione sat bolt-upright in the bed, trying to look as dignified as possible considering her hair looked even wilder than ever and she wasn't wearing a scrap of clothing but the sheet she held against her breasts. Harry was beside her, crossing his arms over his pale chest. “I… can explain?”

“Why don't you two just get dressed?” Lupin asked, averting his eyes from the embarrassed couple. “You don't need to explain anything to us.”

He and Tonks turned away, walking back up the stairs to give Harry and Hermione some privacy. “All right, Remus… pay up,” Tonks whispered, grinning wickedly at him.

FIN. And stuff.