Missing Harry
Chapter 3: Ray of Hope
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August 21, 2011
Hermione hated feeling like this. She absolutely, utterly couldn't stand it when she did this to herself. She was slowly driving herself towards an early grave. And what would everyone say? What were they all ready saying? She had been too drunk at the party to find the energy to back-talk the gossipers.
"Did you hear Hermione Granger-Potter's become an alcoholic? What a shame to put such a brain to waste."
"Yes, it was her husband who did it to her. Can you even imagine living with someone like that? Harry Potter has become so needy that he's drawn everything out of her."
"AGHHHH!" Hermione screamed as she threw one of her stilettos at the glass panel in the old Grandfather clock near her. Just her luck, the shoe smashed through the glass and broke the clock, but she was too drunk to find her wand, and clearly too intoxicated to be casting spells. She hated herself when she did this.
But it felt so good.
Never in her entire life had Hermione imagined herself as an alcoholic. She had never imagined when she graduated from Hogwarts with top honours that ten years later she would be a full-fledged alcoholic in a loving but dead-end marriage…not to mention with a child. She loved her little Madison, but couldn't bear bringing her up in a world that was so…empty.
Oh, God. Madison
As intoxicated as she was, she didn't notice her daughter in the doorway at first, and when she tried to stand with one bare foot and the other in a stiletto, she faltered and ended up twisting her ankle.
"Ohhhhh SHIT!" At her mother's outburst, Madison fled from the doorway, only to be replaced by Harry, still dressed in his dinner jacket*, moments later.
"H-H-Hermione, what's going on?" She scowled at him and winced as she stood up gingerly on her injured leg.
"Goway, Harry," she slurred.
Harry looked at her inquisitively. "Are you all right, love?"
"Bloody `ell, Harry! Am I all right?"
"Hermione, why-why-why am I wearing this dinner jacket? Are we going somewhere?"
"Harry! Look at me!" He did, but he still looked confused. "Look at what the bloody `ell I've become!" He continued to stare at her, moving forward to brush the hair aside that had fallen from its up-do.
"I am looking at you, Hermione. And I-And I-And I see the most beautiful woman in the world."
"Have you lost your sense of precepshion too? Don't you realize I'm totally hammered?"
"I see a woman who's very sad about something." Ironically, a tear slipped down her cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb. "And it kills me, because I don't-I don't-I don't know why you're so sad."
"Do you know exactly why you can't remember, `arry?"
Harry squinted his eyes, trying hard. "No."
Hermione broke down, sobbing into his arms, drunk and pathetic. He caught her, lowering both of them to the floor as he held her, his arms shaking.
"I-I-I don't know why you're sad, and I don't know why I wouldn't know that about my own-my own-my own wife."
"Oh, Harry. Make love to me."
"What?"
She wiped at her face and pushed him up against the couch near them. She could feel him grow hard instantly and it sent an old familiar shiver up her spine…a feeling she hadn't experienced in years.
"Fuck me till I can't walk." She straddled him.
"Hermione, this isn't like…"
"Shag me till I can't see straight." She threw his glasses to the other side of the room.
"I uh…"
"And remember this, Harry." She grabbed his face and pressed her thumb to his scar.
Harry gasped like a drowning man out of water before he grew a hard face and picked her up by the bum, carrying her into their bedroom, turning the lock on the door.
Hermione fisted her hand in his hair, pulling at the flaps of his dress shirt as he shrugged out of the coat. He undid the zipper on her fancy dress and watched as it pooled at her feet.
"Bloody hell you're gorgeous," He whispered huskily, attaching his lips to her neck and pulling her flush against him.
Hermione noted somewhere in her foggy brain that she had never been so rough with him before. She needed this, though. It was selfish to bring him back for such a short romp in the bed, but she needed him so desperately that she couldn't see straight.
His scar: it was the only source to his memory. She couldn't remember when it had started, but it never failed. When someone he loved pushed on his scar, he was like the old Harry she knew. The Harry she grew up with, the Harry that got her drunk for the first time, the Harry that became her lover, Husband and father of her child. It was all of him, but it never lasted. He would never remember in the morning when they woke up, and she knew it would depress her to the point that she would drink again. But she needed him right now, more than anything.
"Hermione," He breathed against her neck, unsnapping her bra and let the weight of her breasts spill into his palms. She moaned and pushed him back on the bed, crawling up to pull off his dressy pants and then his boxers. She was wearing nothing but the one stiletto still strapped to her right foot.
He flipped her over and set himself between her thighs. She screamed when he shoved himself inside of her, and she could feel that he was as desperate as she was. He continued to thrust into her, rolling her breast around in his hand, pushing his tongue against hers, and lifting the leg with the stiletto so he could go even deeper.
Harry panted, moaned, cried, breathed, groaned, and it was all too much for Hermione to bear. She began to weep as her climax broke over her. Harry reached up to brush her tears away, never breaking his kiss as he drove into her again and again and again. With one final groan, Hermione began to scream and buck against Harry with the force of her orgasm. He never stopped pounding against her and when she had finally overcome her first orgasm, her second began to creep up.
"Ohhhhh, Fuuuuuck," Harry rasped against her neck. He let out a loud guttural moan and she could feel the wave of his orgasm coursing through his body, and it made her let go again.
He was clutching to her as though his life depended on it. She let the last leg of her orgasm died down and fell backwards onto the pillows, gasping for air. He landed on top of her and the weight of his lean, sticky body was delicious. Still not feeling as though she had landed back on earth, she could make out the lazy kisses he was drawing on her neck. "Bloody hell, Hermione."
"I know," she breathed. "That was incredible."
"I'll never forget that, ever! That was amazing."
Hermione's heart broke and a tear fell down her face. "I know, love. I'll never forget this night as long as I live."
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November 3, 2011
That had been only months ago, and here she was, a stomach full with child and a still-broken heart. Harry would always hold half of her heart, but she didn't know where the Harry was that she knew and fell in love with.
"Mummy?" Madison's small voice came from the doorway. Hermione was still crouched by the door to her bedroom where she had fallen asleep after her fight with Harry.
She stood up and walked over to her daughter. "Are you all right, love?"
"I heard a scream, Mummy." Hermione tucked a strand of her daughter's wild brown hair behind her ear. "I was too scared, so I hid under my covers. But I thought that maybe you or daddy had gotten hurt, so I came to look."
"Oh, Maddy," Hermione drew her little girl into a tight embrace. "Daddy and I are fine. But next time you stay in your closet like I taught you, right?" Madison nodded.
Hermione was still scared half to death of Death Eater attacks, and taught her daughter to hide from them. Even though Harry had sacrificed himself to defeat Voldemort, their family was still too large of a target to take any chances.
"Where's daddy?"
"Oh, um…" Hermione could hear Harry singing in their room, opening and closing drawers before the door to their bathroom closed, and the water from the shower turned on. "Daddy's a little busy at the moment. Why don't we get you some pumpkin juice and I'll let you watch a little of the telly before its time to eat."
"Okay! Madison ran out of the room as Hermione followed the little girl. She walked down to the ground floor and into the kitchen where Dobby was preparing a chicken to be roasted.
"Hello, Dobby," Hermione greeted the house elf as she made her way over to the cupboard to get a cup for Madison.
"Hello, Misses. Dobby is preparing dinner for Mister Harry Potter and his family, Miss."
"Thank you, Dobby."
"And Dobby has made a small ham for the Misses because she cannot eat chicken."
Hermione nodded. It was the strangest thing: every time Hermione ate poultry with this pregnancy, she would get a queasy stomach and run to the bathroom. At first she thought it might have been strange withdrawal symptoms from her alcoholism, but a trip to her healer proved its source to be different.
"It's entirely normal for a woman to have aversions to certain food products, Mrs. Potter," Healer Stanley had told her. "Your reaction to poultry is entirely normal."
"So this isn't long-term or anything?"
The woman laughed heartily. "Not at all. As soon as you have your baby, the reaction may stay for a bit when you're breastfeeding, but it will go away eventually. For now all you can do is have your house elf cook you a separate meal from your family's if they can't live without their poultry."
"Oh, they do love it, but I would feel like I'm overworking poor Dobby, and he all ready does so much for us…"
"At least you're paying him, dear. I admire you're potential to break through centuries of stigma and discrimination." Hermione had blushed and thanked her healer.
As she was pouring the pumpkin juice for her daughter, a loud noise came from her bedroom and she quickly put the juice back in the ice box, handed her daughter the cup with a kiss to the forehead, and sprinted upstairs, through their bedroom and into the bathroom.
"FUCK!" She could hear Harry screaming through the glass door.
"Harry, what's wrong?" She yelled to him. Through the foggy glass she saw him slump to the floor of the shower, and hunch over as sobs wracked his body.
She slipped the sliding door open and peered inside at him as his shoulders shook and Harry continued to wail. Not caring that she was getting thoroughly soaked, she stepped into the shower with him, turned down the scalding hot water, and hugged him to her, rocking him back and forth as he cooled down.
"I don't know who turned-who turned-who turned the water so hot, Hermione. I certainly would never do such a thing."
"I'm sorry, Harry. I must have done that."
"But, why, Hermione? You know how sensitive my skin is to hot showers."
"I know, I'm sorry, love."
"It's okay." He sat back and looked her over. "Y-y-you're wet."
"I know," Hermione grinned. "It's all your fault, you rogue."
"Perhaps we should fix this, huh?" Harry was smirking wickedly as he lowered his mouth to hers. Without thinking, Hermione pushed her thumb to his forehead, forcing him into a gasping fit. His body was convulsing around her and then suddenly stopped. Harry shook his head and looked her square in the eyes.
"I'm going to ravish you until you can't walk properly." His familiar words set a fire ablaze in her loins as he moved to pull her shirt over her head, rubbing his hand along the bump in her stomach. "We don't know what it is yet, do we?"
Hermione shook her head. "I hope it's a boy, though."
Harry smiled and leaned toward her, his face inches from hers. "Me too."
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Ahhhh, so that's out. Hermione's an alcoholic *ducks from fans throwing stuff*, but don't worry, if you noted the dates, she stopped drinking when she found out that she was pregnant.
Thank you to my AMAZING beta, Rylee. This chapter was a mess before she betaed it. :P
And thank you to my reviewers! You all are FANFUCKINGTASTIC!
*dinner jacket=tuxedo thanks to Rylee for that one! :D
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