Author's note: So sorry about the wait. Rough times abound in my life at the oddest moments, and this past week has been more than a bit that way. :D Anyway, finally, chapter 20. I'm working on Chapter 21, which will be the next to last. Hope you like it!
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Hermione was irritated. More than irritated, actually. Pissed off. Royally. "Nothing!" she growled, slamming shut the book she had been looking at. "How can there be nothing in any of these?"
Harry glanced up, smiling slightly. "Because, as Mrs. Weasley so kindly pointed out, this spell is illegal. It's hard to find any mention of it at all. And those books that do are always very general. I've been looking for two years, Hermione. I've yet to find anything. At least, not since McGonagall had some of the darker books removed from the Restricted Section. Shame I don't know what she did with them."
She sighed. "It has to be somewhere. We'll just-keep looking."
Ron cleared his throat. "Um, I'm sorry, Hermione, but I can't keep going for tonight. I've got to get some sleep." He flinched when Hermione glowered at him. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'm just-too tired to keep reading, and I have-some things to do tomorrow."
Harry nodded, stretching. "He's right, Hermione. Let's quit for tonight. We'll start again tomorrow."
"You two can stop if you want," she muttered, opening yet another book. "I'm going to keep going at least a while longer."
Ron glanced at Harry, then shrugged. "All right. Harry, do you mind if--?"
"No, Ron. It's fine. Go on to bed."
"All right then. Night."
"Maybe we should take this back to my place," Harry said. "It isn't right to hang around here after they've all headed off to bed."
"They should have gone to bed," Hermione huffed. "They said they would help us."
"True, but it's got to be close to midnight, Hermione. They have to sleep too."
"This is more important. You'd think they'd want to-help-you." She trailed off, her eyes fixed on the page in front of her. "Harry? Did you read this?" She shoved her book across to him, tapping the page. "Right here."
"I've probably read it before, Hermione. If it's-Huh. 'When a bonding spell is broken, everything that has transpired under the effect of the spell is broken as well.' No, I hadn't read that. What do you reckon it means?"
"I guess it means it puts everything back to the way it was. Obviously, that will give you your magic back, and give you back your ability to love. So, it's solved! Now we just have to figure out how to break it."
Harry laughed at the sparkle in her eyes. "Way to go, Sherlock. You've solved the case."
She beamed. "Leave it to my books." Her face fell slowly and she sighed. "Although we're no closer to understanding how to break the spell."
"We'll find it. Maybe not tonight, because I'm worn out, but we will eventually."
She nodded, letting a yawn slip out. "You're right. Can you wait here for a second? I'll take these books back and then come back and get you."
He blushed, but nodded. "Yeah, all right. Can you-make it quick?"
"I'll try," she grinned, loading up all the books she could carry. "Be right back," she said, disapparating. She hurried to dump her books onto her couch, then went back for Harry. "Fast enough for you?" she grinned, very proud of herself for being able to move so quickly.
"Nearly," he said. "I hate having to do this," he muttered, taking her arm. "My place?"
She chewed her lip. "I'll take you to your place, yes."
"What about you?"
"I--think it would be better if I stay at my own apartment tonight. I'll--come by early tomorrow to get you though. All right?"
He shrugged. "If you must."
"I need to go to Diagon Alley in the morning. Flourish and-Blotts might-have that book-I'mmm-looking f-for. Harry, what are you doing?"
He chuckled against her throat, where his lips were currently working gently over her skin. "I'm kissing you."
"Yes, that's obvious, but-why?"
"Because I want to." His mouth moved toward her ear and she shuddered.
"Harry---uunnnh-I-I'm not staying h-here."
"You should," he whispered, his breath tickling her cheek.
"I can't."
"Why not?"
She sighed, trying to make herself stop his hand's progress up her side. Her own hand refused to move. "For several very good reasons."
One of his hands rested on her back, pulling her closer. "I can give you several very, very good reasons."
He pressed his hand against her breast, and she lost her train of thought. "R-reasons? Oh, that's right. I-I have to go."
"No you don't."
"I should."
"No, you shouldn't." He took a step closer, forcing her to back up, grinning against her shoulder when she did. When exactly did he unbutton my shirt? she wondered. How did I miss that? He pushed her back another step, then another until she was pressed against the wall.
"I-h-have to go," she muttered, feebly. It was made even feebler by the fact that her hand was already working on unbuttoning his fly. She gasped when he pulled away from her and stood back.
"All right. If you must."
She blinked. "Oh, um-well I-I guess I could stay."
He grinned again, stepping forward again. "I'm glad." He leaned forward, stopping just a breath away from her lips. "I want you to."
"T-then I'll stay," she whispered. He moved the last centimeter to catch her lips, his hands moving to finish opening her shirt. She started to reach around and unfasten her bra, but he caught her hands, pulling them until they rested around his neck.
When he was certain she was going to keep them there, he ran his hands back down her arms, catching the fabric of her shirt and pushing it back off of her shoulders. She shivered as his fingers brushed her skin, making them both moan. It surprised her that he seemed so turned on by her, and she dropped her hands, letting her shirt fall to the floor. He stepped back to watch her, entranced, as she reached behind her and unfastened her bra. She let it fall slowly, and almost laughed at the obvious desire in his eyes as he looked at her. It made her feel so-powerful.
She had to try several times to get the words to come out, but they sounded suitably sexy when she finally spoke them. "Do you want me, Harry?"
He actually gasped, his chest heaving. "God, yes," he said in a near moan. "So much."
"Well," she smirked. "What are you waiting for?"
He practically charged her, his mouth closing on one of her breasts as his arms curled around her and lifted her up. She was pinned between him and the wall, his lips working ravenously across her bare chest, and she pushed her head back, gripping his shoulders roughly. When his tongue brushed her nipple, she gasped, a surge of something almost electric running through her.
Harry pulled back suddenly, his eyes wide. "How did you-do that?" he panted.
She frowned. "What?"
"Your pants," he said, glancing down.
She followed his gaze and gasped. "What the hell?"
Her pants, which had been on and fastened just a few seconds ago, had just-disappeared. She was now completely naked. "Is that a spell?" Harry asked, eyeing her appreciatively.
"Not that I know of," she muttered, sighing. "It just-happened."
He smirked. "Well, it's handy, anyway."
She bit off her answer as his fingers trailed over her bare thigh. They found their target and plunged into her and she let out a cry, thumping her head against the wall. "Harry," she whimpered, "I-I want you."
He didn't seem to need anymore prompting than that. His hand continued to move under her as he shifted his other hand out to unfasten his jeans. He somehow managed to push them down a bit, and lowered her until she was resting against his tip. "Now?" he asked, and she could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
"Yes-please?" she laughed. "Please, now."
He grinned back, shifting his hips to slide into her. "Good," he murmured, his eyes sliding shut. "Because I couldn't-uunnnh, God-have waited anyway."
She caught his cheeks between her hands and pulled his chin up so she could watch his face. He opened his eyes again, holding her gaze. "I want you naked too," she whispered, trying desperately to repeat the spell. When it didn't work, she sighed. "Damnit. I wish I could remember how I did that."
Harry smiled, holding her tightly. "Concentrate," he said softly. "Pull your magic up and let it roll out of you. It's almost-accidental. Just focus on-letting it out."
It seemed impossible to do what he was saying, but she tried it anyway. She focused her magic, then pushed it out. Incredibly, his clothes evaporated into thin air, leaving him as naked as she.
He glanced down and nodded. "See? The only bad thing about it is-I don't know where the clothes go."
She giggled. "It doesn't matter. You won't need them anytime soon." She shifted her hips, and he let out a moan. "See what I mean?"
He hummed appreciatively, dropping his head to rest on her shoulder as he started to thrust into her again, his rhythm carefully controlled. She lost herself in the feel of him inside of her, the feel of his breath, coming in hot bursts, against her bare skin. "Uunnnh, Hermione," he moaned, shifting her so he could drive into her more deeply. "Oh God."
The sound of his voice, the vibrations of his chest against hers as he spoke, pushed her that much closer to her climax. Especially the way he said her name.
He pushed them off of the wall, letting her feet back down to the floor gently. "We need a bed," he said, leaning down to press his lips against hers. She groaned at the thought of not having him inside of her for even as long as it would take to walk into the bedroom and grabbed his hand, dragging him after her. As soon as they were inside his bedroom, he picked her up again and let himself fall back onto the bed, carrying her with him. His hands slid down her back, coming to rest on her bum, and he shifted his hips so he brushed against her.
"Don't tease me," she half-growled, pushing herself back and onto him. "I don't want to be teased."
He laughed. "All right. You take control then."
She smirked. "Don't think I won't." As if to prove her point, she sat up quickly, sliding all the way down onto him. He sighed heavily, his eyes falling shut. She rocked her hips, leaning over him to watch his face as she moved. She felt so confident in that moment, listening to the gasps and moans coming from him, feeling the way that his hips were straining up against hers.
She rocked harder, faster, and watched his control break, his hands fumbling to wrap around her waist and hold her still. "Stop," he muttered. "Stop for a minute."
She did, watching as he tried desperately to hold onto his little bit of restraint. He gripped her waist more tightly, sitting up, still holding her in his lap. "I need to be on top," he said, blushing. "I can't hold on when you're in control."
He turned them so she was lying under him, pinned to the bed with his weight. He stared down at her, his eyes full of something that she couldn't identify, and she had the distinct feeling that she would never be able to understand it. "I love you, Harry," she whispered, hoping that he would believe it, even if he couldn't feel it. "I always have."
A pained look crossed his face, and she had to hold him tightly to stop him from moving away from her. "We're going to fix this. I swear we will. We'll fix it."
"I hope so," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I want to be normal again."
They held each other for a long time before he shifted to push into her again, and slowly, passionately, took her to the strongest climax she had ever felt.
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Hermione awoke slowly, immediately recognizing the warmth pressed against her back. Harry's arm was draped over her, his legs tangled with hers under the sheets. He was snoring softly, his breath ruffling her hair.
She wanted to go back to sleep, but she knew she couldn't. One glance at the clock told her that she was due to pick up Ron in a little over an hour, and she still had to shower and find some fresh clothes.
Slowly and carefully, she began to extract herself from Harry's embrace. He seemed reluctant, even in his sleep, to let her go, and pulled her back as she tried to slide away from him. She sighed and started over. It took her ten minutes to get out of bed and a few more to remember where she'd left her shirt and bra. Her knickers, jeans, shoes and socks were, apparently, irretrievable.
She couldn't, for some unfathomable reason, stand the thought of apparating back to her flat naked, so she raided Harry's wardrobe, borrowing a pair of cotton track pants and an old T-shirt, stuffing her feet into a pair of slippers. When she was dressed, she knelt on the bed beside Harry and bent to press a kiss on his cheek.
"Morning," she smiled when his eyes finally slid open. "I'll be back in a bit, okay?"
He nodded, yawning. "All right. I'll make some lunch for you, if you want."
"Ron, too?" she grinned, fighting the urge to curl up in his arms for just a few more minutes.
He smirked. "If I have to."
She gave him one more kiss, and then climbed off the bed. "See you in a little while," she said, and turned to apparate. She stopped suddenly, a strange feeling of dread passing over her.
Harry watched her for a second, then laughed. "Did you forget something?"
She shook herself, forcing a smile. "No, I just-nothing. Bye, Harry."
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"So we're going to Flourish and Blotts and that's it, right? No detours?"
"That's it, Ron, I swear. I just need to look into a few books and then we'll go to Harry's."
"Good, because I'm starving. I hope Harry made something good for lunch."
Hermione started to make a sarcastic comment back, but something caught her eye that made her stop. "Oh, God. I thought he was in hiding."
Ron glanced around, frowning. "Who?"
"Draco Malfoy," Hermione hissed, grabbing Ron's arm and dragging him behind a stack of crates outside of Eeylops. "What's he doing skulking around here?"
Ron was still frowning. "I don't see him."
"Right there," Hermione muttered, motioning to a shop a few spots down. "See him?"
Draco was skulking, of course. He was stopped in front of a display window, but his attention wasn't on the items inside. He was casting glances around him, his eyes narrowed beneath the hood of his black cloak.
"What the bloody hell is he up to?" Ron muttered, scowling. "It has to be something bad."
They watched as Malfoy was approached by another cloaked wizard and the two started toward the entrance to Knockturn Alley. "Well, of course," Hermione sighed. "You know, if Harry was here, he'd follow Malfoy."
"Yeah, but he isn't."
"So, does that mean we have to?"
Ron laughed sharply. "Damnit! I suppose it does."
"Well, come on then," she said and stepped out to follow Malfoy's form down the path. Malfoy and the other man turned down a side alley, glancing around. Hermione waited until they were out of sight, and then peeked around the corner into the dim alley. Malfoy was standing with his back to them, talking rather heatedly.
Hermione cast an eavesdropping charm on Ron, and then herself, allowing them to hear the conversation. "I'm telling you," Malfoy snapped. "Potter's being taken care of. Once he's out of the way, it's all clear."
"Yeah. Your dad couldn't take care of him the last time, why should he be able to now?"
"Because Potter," Malfoy said, a sneer evident in his voice, "has lost his magic. Drained it. He's defenseless."
"And how, pray tell, do you know that?"
"I overheard his friends talking about it. They still haven't learned not to have private conversations in the middle of bars, apparently. I told my dad what I'd heard and he went over there this morning. Potter's probably dead already." Hermione didn't stick around to hear anymore. She grabbed Ron's arm, dragged him a few feet away, and drew her wand.
"See you at Harry's," Ron muttered, before apparating away.