Facing the Morning After

Disclaimer: Not mine and all that good stuff. No profit, just naughtiness with borrowed characters.

Facing the Morning After

Harry watched Hermione sleep with butterflies in his stomach. When she woke, he’d have to tell her – tell her that he hadn’t been that drunk last night, that he’d wanted this for ages, that if she called it a mistake, his heart would break in two. He wished he could trust her not to hurt him, but he knew how easily it could be done with him in such a state, even by accident.

He sighed as she shifted in her sleep, murmuring something nonsensical. She really was painfully beautiful, and she fit so well in his arms. As wonderful as last nights…activities had been, her warm sleeping body against his was even better. He simply loved the feel of her smooth legs entwined with his, the softness of her breasts against his chest, her hair tickling his skin. He wanted it to always be like this, for her to crawl into his bed every night and warm him, body and soul.

Restlessness flitted across her face as she began to stir, and he tightened his grip on her, willing her back into peacefulness, but she opened her eyes instead and peered sleepily up at him.

“Harry, what –“ Her frown of confusion turned to horrified realization. “Oh. Right. …Ow.”

Harry swallowed. “Hungover, I take it?”

“Rather.” An awkward silence stretched between them, during which Hermione remained tensely still. Harry took a deep breath and then took the plunge.

“Before you start plotting how you’re going to deal with this – and, yes, I know that’s what you’re doing – you should know that I didn’t take you home with me last night because I was drunk. I did it because I’d wanted to for ages and it finally seemed like you wanted it, too. I – I want to be with you, and…well, I hope you want that, too.” There was a long silent pause while she stared and he blushed. “Um, you can plot now, if you want.”

Hermione blinked several times. “…I think plotting should wait a bit. I need more sleep first,” she murmured as she rested her head on his shoulder once more and relaxed in his arms.

Harry’s heart soared. She wasn’t running away screaming, wasn’t afraid of this, and that was all he needed just then.

~

She woke again sometime later to find him gone, and instead of relief at not having to deal with the situation, she felt a surge of disappointment, bereft of his warmth.

His words played over soothingly in her head, however, and she slid out of bed, eager to find him and…well, beyond that, she didn’t know what she wanted, but she did want to be near him again…and perhaps that was all the answer she needed.

After she found a T-shirt of his long enough to cover her modestly, she walked unsteadily from his room, down the hallway, through the living room, to finally find him in the kitchen area, a cauldron bubbling on the stove.

“I never thought I’d see the day when Harry Potter voluntarily mad a potion,” she said, watching him tip a cup of some ingredient into the solution.

“Yeah, well, I never thought I’d see the day when Hermione Granger was so hungover she probably couldn’t do it herself,” he quipped. He turned to face her, smirking, but his smugness wore off when he saw her. “Well,” he said roughly, “I think you look better in my clothes than I do.”

Hermione felt herself blushing in spit of herself, feeling a bit like a silly schoolgirl with a crush. “That would depend on the viewer, I suppose.” She stepped tentatively closer, wanted some kind of physical contact and unsure how to take it. “So, I take it the potion is for me?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, letting it simmer. “I figured you’d need it, the way you were knocking ‘em back last night. I’ve never seen you drink like that before.”

“That’s because I never have,” all at once embarrassed and oddly pleased at his taking care of her.

“You hungry?” he asked. “I could whip something up while we’re waiting for the potion.”

“No thanks. I don’t think my stomach could take that just now.”

Harry nodded, gave the potion a final stir, and ladled it into a cup. She took it from him gratefully and felt her entire body readjust and return to normal as she swallowed the last drop.

Harry turned off the stove and turned to her with seriousness darkening his eyes.

“Hermione, do you…regret last night?”

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I wish I could remember more of it,” she said with a blush. “But…I guess I don’t regret it happening.”

Relief shone sweet and strong in his smile. “Thank goodness. I would have been devastated if you did.”

Hermione smiled back, finally seizing the chance to move closer and wind her arms around him, Harry responding automatically by pulling her in and holding her against him.

Once ensconced in his arms, she found she still wanted more. Lifting her head, she sought his lips, which she found easily and captured with her own. He moved quickly in response, leading her backward until she was pressed against the counter across from the stove. Harry’s eagerness was evident in his hips that pinned her down.

Hermione allowed her hands a little exploration, underneath his shirt, into the waistband of his jeans. Growling, he hoisted her up onto the counter and his lips fastened onto his neck. The new position caused her shirt to ride up and left her sex exposed, pressing delightfully against the bulge in his jeans. Panting, she let him set to work with his hands on her breasts and his teeth tugging at her earlobe. Certainly he was the best – and most enthusiastic – lover she’d ever had, and she wondered at how she’d never noticed the attraction she felt now, the desperate need to have his body tight against hers, skin on skin. Merlin, what an attraction it was….

She could tell he felt it, too, in the way he touched her, the way his lips sucked at her skin, as though he were trying to take her in completely. She really couldn’t blame him – she wanted the same thing.

Their urgency soon gave way to complete abandon as he tugged off her shirt and she divested him of the clothing he’d foolishly decided to put on that morning. Memories of the night before came flooding back as she surveyed his body with both eyes and hands. Silly, really, to think she could have walked away from this.

“Do you…want…ohh…to move this…elsewhere?” Harry rasped out as she stroked his hardened member, enjoying the expressions that flitted across his face while she provoked him.

“No,” she breathed, drawing him closer. “That would take too long.”

Harry smirked, kissing her roughly. “Impatient girl.”

“Only when it comes to this,” she quipped, guiding him to her ready entrance. “Very impatient.”

Harry took the hint, and, kissing her again, he grabbed her by the hips and thrust home. She gasped into his mouth as he filled and stretched her. Such a lovely feeling of completion in that initial moment…followed by such a lovely feeling of mind-blowing ecstasy as he moved within her.

Hermione clung to his shoulders as he pumped into her. The counter was cold against her skin and the edge of it dug into her bottom, but that didn’t matter while his panting rang in her ears and his movements sent shivers up her spine.

“Oh God…Hermione…”

The sound of his voice, full of heat and desperation, sent her over the edge. The fire that had been building low in her belly exploded in a million points of sinful bliss as he drove her to a state of abandon she’d never known before.

Harry grunted as he bucked erratically into her, his fingers digging into her hips. She clenched around him and urged him deeper as he came, spilling his seed into her.

Hermione ran her fingers through his sweat-soaked hair as he rested against her, panting into her neck. She knew, as he hugged her close, that she’d made the right choice. He was a fantastic lover, yes…but he also knew how to care for her like no other man in the world did. After all, he was her best friend…and though that was every reason not to get involved with him, it was also the best reason to do just that. Only her best friend could make her feel this safe, this…loved.

She sighed contentedly as he lifted his head to kiss her, sweetly and softly.

“What do you say we go back to bed for awhile?” she suggested, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’ve exhausted me.”

Harry grinned. “That sounds great.”

As he carried her back to his room, she thanked whatever higher power persuaded her to get completely drunk the night before.

The End