Harry spent the night with her, preferring not to return to Ravenclaw tower and his year mates. They spent a few hours snuggling quietly, whispering the thoughts that came to them. Though desire hung in the air neither acted on it. And thus, fully clothed in her nightwear, Hermione curled up with Harry on top of the covers while he conjured a throw. They stayed that way in companionable silence until falling asleep.
The morning dawned cool and gray as Harry woke to the irritating burn of his scar. He righted his spectacles, which had slipped off his nose to hang around his chin at some point in the night. Crookshanks meowed loudly while Harry blinked owlishly at the orange Kneazle. The cat yowled again and Harry yawned.
"Good morning to you too, you mangy cat. How did you get here?"
Crookshanks batted at his face. Harry glared at him, glad that the claws had been retracted and not splayed. Crookshanks hissed, looking pleased with himself. Harry flicked his hand, banishing the Kneazle onto the floor, where he yowled in protest.
"What are you doing to my cat?" Hermione murmured, running her hand up his chest and peering blearily over his shoulder.
"Saving his life," Harry replied, grabbing his wand and tossing a silencing charm on the orange vocal atrocity.
"He's probably just hungry," she said calmly, leaning away from him briefly to locate her wand. A couple of flicks and a few words had munchies dumping themselves into the cat bowl that suddenly appeared by the room's desk.
Crookshanks eyed him angrily, his yellow eyes promising future vengeance.
"Yes, yes, I know," Harry grumbled at the cat. "Death and mayhem and all things orange."
"What are you going on about, Harry?" Hermione asked, sitting up appearing more awake. "Wait a minute, how did Crookshanks get in here?"
"Ask him, he'll never reveal his secrets to me," Harry said, turning his back to the Kneazle.
"Hmm," she hummed, setting her wand back on the nightstand and settling back against Harry.
Their feet touched and Harry chuckled. "Your feet are cold."
"Like yours aren't?" she teased, trailing kisses down his jaw line. "You're scratchy," she added wrinkling her nose, leaning over to kiss him gently on the mouth.
"Mmm," he hummed softly, opening his mouth to her seeking tongue.
Hermione pressed herself against him, sweeping her tongue into his mouth. She explored, lingering in her favorite places. Harry settled deeper into the pillows, bringing his hands up to tangle sweetly in her hair.
She sighed into him, rubbing her fingers across his stubble as she deepened the kiss. Their tongues tangled together in sleek hot confusion. The kiss shifted to a different angle as she pressed herself harder against him.
His hands brushed down back where he noticed immediately she wasn't wearing a bra beneath her pajamas. Without pause he slipped his fingers under her small tank and lifted it up. Hermione kissed him again fiercely before breaking it to raise her arms over her head. With a flourish her tee was removed and her perky breasts revealed.
They brushed lightly against his chest, rubbing against the soft fabric of his undershirt. Harry cupped them, caressing the tips until they pebbled hard against his hand. Hermione moaned ardently arching her neck back. He bent up and kissed the warm curve of her exposed throat while pinching her nipples between the pads of his fingers.
"I want you, Harry," Hermione declared huskily. "Make love to me."
Groaning, Harry felt all the blood rush out of his brain. He was so hard, his head swam in a muddled mess. One clear thought pulsed through him, echoing in every corner of his body; he had to fuck her--now.
"Gladly," he grunted.
As if drugged, he brushed his lips down the column of her throat to nuzzle the soft heated flesh between his hands. Slowly, he pushed her onto her back, settling his hips between her outspread thighs. Her hair spilled around her head, framing her against the white of the pillows. She wet her lips nervously.
"Are you sure?" he asked, physically pained that she might say no.
Her eyes darkened as she sat up. "Never more sure in my entire life. I want you to be my first, Harry," she said, briskly divesting him of his undershirt.
Now they were nearly nude. He in his boxers, though they weren't doing him much good, and her in flannel bottoms. She dropped her hands into his lap, bravely grasping his exposed length.
"I want this inside me," she husked, running her thumb experimentally across his head.
He groaned at the devastating touch and batted her hands away. Faster than you could say 'snidget' he shucked off his boxers tossing them away from the bed. A loud howl of indignation accompanied their landing. Hermione giggled uncontrollably, but soon silenced when he dragged her forward into his lap. He brushed against the warm heat of her and her eyes grew round like saucers.
"What you do to me," he rumbled, kissing her once before coaxing her out of her bottoms and knickers. Grabbing his wand he cast a pregnancy protection charm, that fell between them with a soft hazy glow.
She smiled shyly while he stared at her in all her glory. She had bushy hair down there, he thought with amusement, letting the smile tugging at his lips take full form. Pushing her down, he followed until he was nudging the hot damp entrance between her legs with his crown. His blood was on fire.
She sighed his name as he took a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard on the rigid peak. Her hands fluttered against the sheets before reversing and finding purchase on his hips. He thrust gently against her, searching her wet folds for his place. Reaching down, his hand collided with hers on his girth. The touch sent shivers down his spine, fogging his mind. He bumped against her, coating the head of his cock with her wetness. Together they fumbled until with the help of her angled hips he slid partway into her slick valley.
Inching back a little, he reversed and plunged further inside her. She gasped at the feeling then with nerves when the second thrust brought him to her last barrier. He winced as her nails bit into him, leaving crescent moons on his upper thighs.
"Harry--" she whispered, quivering.
He brought a hand to her chin, lifting it until she met his eyes. "Easy luv," he murmured, stroking his thumb across her bottom lip.
Leaning over, he kissed her, stroking her tongue with his own. He thought he'd burst while waiting, but gradually her grip on him eased until at last the tension left her. Swiftly he thrust forward claiming her as his. A muffled sob escaped her into him as he caught it with his mouth.
"Shh," he quieted, breaking the kiss.
He trailed his lips up either side of her face, catching her twin tears. Small soft kisses were placed on either trembling eyelid before he reclaimed her mouth with a searing kiss. He lavished her with them, caressing her like she was spun glass. When she was ready for him, he eased backward and edged forward, repeating himself.
He brought his fingers to her clit, rubbing the small bundle of nerves. Hermione let out a keening wail as he spiked her arousal. She arched into him, bringing her hips up to his and he glided in deeper. At first it was awkward, they were off, meeting each other with mismatched thrusts and jumbled fingers, but soon they slipped into a groove, matching each other in a sloppy steady rhythm.
The tempo between them increased with a grunt. Bracing himself on his elbow, Harry drove forward, bringing his hips crashing against her. Sweat drizzled down his back, dripped from his hair falling onto her glistening breasts. He watched them bob with every push of his hips, their motion filling his vision. His throat was parched, and his fingers were tired, but he kept going.
Her hands ran over her belly as she closed her eyes, reaching up to cup her breasts. She focused intently on her nipples, rolling and plucking them. Harry moaned gruffly, snatching one with his mouth, swirling his tongue around the pebbled peak leaving it shiny when he let go.
Her breaths quickened beneath him and he pounded harder. Her clit stood at attention beneath his questing fingers. He pinched it roughly and she cried out, fluttering around him. He was dazed by the feeling, his control faltering beneath the onslaught of sensation. He felt his balls tighten as they slapped against her bum. Her sheath fluttered again as she wrapped her legs around his hips, locking him against her. She moaned now every time he filled her, until he swelled and came with a shout inside her in thick pearly jets.
He startled when her fingers found his over her soft sensitive flesh urging him to continue. Chastised by his inattention he picked up where he left off as his softening member slipped out drenching them in a rush of cum and moisture. With a flick of his nail she cried out. With another she came on a loud keening cry. He rubbed her through every wave and spike until at last she collapsed in a trembling pile of limbs.
Tired and shaking, Harry collapsed beside her as she let out a little laugh. Rolling onto his side, Harry propped himself up on his hand. A dazzling smile curled on Hermione's lips as she brushed back a dark sweaty lock off his forehead revealing his scar. Gently she pressed a kiss to its jagged form then drew back.
"That was amazing--you were amazing," she whispered.
"You were pretty fantastic yourself," he returned, sliding a foot down her calf. "How are you feet feeling now?" he teased.
Crookshanks howled from the floorboards. Hermione groaned, dragging herself into a sitting position. She glared at her overgrown furball in warning. Harry watched as the half-Kneazle paced irritably a few times as if admonishing Hermione for her brash actions.
Hermione didn't seem put off by the act at all and loudly scolded the furry beast. "Don't you shake your bushy tail at me, Crookshanks. I won't have it anymore. Harry is here to stay so you'll have to learn to deal with it or else I'll lock you in the girls' toilet until the end of the year. Capisce?" The little devil growled in rebuttal, swiping angrily at the bed sheets. "You play nice, Crooks or there'll be consequences. Now shush or face the firing squad."
"The what?" Harry interjected, looking confused. "Is that muggle?"
Hermione settled back against him, snuggling into the curve of his shoulder. "It is. It's a method of execution, particularly in use for wartimes and rarely used outside of them."
"Sounds beastly," Harry commented, giving her a tiny peck on the lips. "They use firelegs right?"
"Arms," she corrected. "Firearms."
Harry chortled. "Like that's any better; naming weapons after body parts."
"Yes, well…" she murmured, stealing another kiss.
"Eep!" shrieked a flustered voice. "Swibby is sorry! Swibby is so sorry Mister Harry Potter, sir! Miss Granger, miss!"
Startled, Harry and Hermione sat up. Hermione pulled the sheets up to her chest in an attempt of modesty. She looked sexier because of it, Harry thought briefly before yanking his attention away from her and onto the house elf quailing by the door.
"How can we help you Swibby?" Harry asked, grabbing his boxers from the floor and pulling them on over his hips.
"I didnst know! I swear! Swibby would never--" the house elf explained, pulling his ears down with worry clearly written on his face.
"That's quite all right," Harry interjected soothingly. "Why are you here?"
Swibby wrung his hands together in distress, shuffling from one foot to another. "Master Dumbledore sent mes to get the both of yous."
"Dumbledore?" Harry repeated, glancing back at Hermione. "When does he want to meet with us?"
Swibby calmed down when he realized that neither Harry nor Hermione were going to yell at him. He lowered his hands from their death-grip on his ears and stood up straighter. "Master Dumbledore wants to sees yous at the first available moment."
Harry sighed and bade Swibby to leave them. The house elf did immediately. He yawned hugely and swung himself out of bed just as Hermione scrambled out from under the throw. He padded into the conjoining bath suite and turned on the shower heads with a simple spell and stepped into the running stream.
He took a fast shower, knowing Hermione would want to use it as well and quickly scrubbed down and got out. Just as he was stepping out and wrapping himself in a fluffy towel with the Hogwarts insignia, she ambled in clutching a wad of clothes.
He paused in towel drying his hair to look her over. At his lecherous grin she huffed in a very pleased way and put her clutch of items beside the sink. They shuffled around each other, stealing a few chaste kisses until they had reversed their positions. Harry quickly finished up his toiletry and rinsed away the tiny hairs he'd just charmed off his face down the sink.
"You take your time, Hermione," he called to her as he left the room. "I'll go on ahead and speak with the man first. You can join us when you're ready."
"All right," she said, stepping into the shower and shutting the door. "Don't have too much fun without me. I wouldn't want you to get a full blast of reprimanding all by your lonesome."
Harry chuckled, draping his towel on the bed and grabbing a set of freshly laundered robes and clothes that had appeared via silent house elves. Tugging them on, Harry was surprised to find that they fit him rather well. He quickly checked them for recent spells and found some alien spell residue that he could only chalk up to belonging to house elf magic. Intrigued, Harry decided he was going to have to coerce Swibby into revealing the incantation.
Crookshanks hissed at him as he walked by and Harry couldn't help but to glower back. The orange menace subsided and Harry passed, exiting into the corridor. Harry found himself on the fourth floor next to a descending staircase. The corridor he was on was particularly short and to his left was a dead-end with a large ornate mirror hung haphazardly on the wall.
Ignoring the quirky décor Harry clattered down the steps three at a time. Patiently he waited for the moving staircase to acknowledge him and switch over connecting his perch to the third floor. He patted the railing in thanks and was on his way to the grand central stairway above the Great Hall.
Once again he found himself waiting for the stairs to change, as they first let a couple of third years pass before transferring to him. Another crossover and Harry was on the fifth floor somewhere near the Headmaster's office. It would take a little looking around for it as it changed it's exact location every few weeks, much like the classrooms did earlier in the year, but it was always on the east side of the fifth floor.
Harry found the gargoyle beset in its tower near the statue of Gregory the Smarmy. It was then that he realized that Swibby either forgot to give him the password or that the Headmaster purposefully hadn't mentioned it to the house elf. In either case, Harry didn't need it and simple spoke the command in Parseltongue for it to move aside. Like before, the gargoyle sprung aside with a bow letting him slip through.
His presence on the staircase had started it moving upward towards Dumbledore's office on the seventh floor. The slowly twisting stairs finally connected to the small ante chamber in front of the Headmaster's office. Harry strode over to the doors and knocked waiting for admittance.
"Come in Harry," Dumbledore called out and Harry pushed the heavy oak doors open.
"You wanted to see me Headmaster?" Harry asked respectfully, strolling in and claiming a seat in front of the thoroughly cluttered desk. He recalled the last two times he'd been in here this term and thought wryly that this meeting was rather anticlimactic in comparison.
Dumbledore steepled his fingers together and peered at him. "First, I want to thank you for your tip the other night. I should have listened to you despite the unconventional means in which you acquired the information. I see now that I was wrong about your involvement with Voldemort and can't express just how apologetic I am."
Harry raised an eyebrow skeptically, but said nothing. At his passive gesture, Dumbledore smiled and offered him a lemon drop, which Harry refused politely. A brief flicker of disappointment flitted across the Headmaster's before falling off as he moved on with business.
"I've asked your brother to meet with us in a few moments time, but before he arrives I was wondering if you could tell me where you learned some of the deflector spells you used last night."
"Books," Harry replied, looking a little confused. "Where else?"
"Nobody's trained you then?" Dumbledore pressed.
Harry shook his head, a little irritated by the Headmaster's round about ways. Didn't he ever get to the point? "I did, if that's what you're asking. As best I could anyway. There's not a lot of access to higher quality stuff especially when you don't have the money for it."
"You showed a remarkable aptitude last night."
"Thank you," Harry said cautiously, searching the Headmaster for any signs of duplicity.
Dumbledore shuffled about a few papers and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. "I took the liberty this morning to pull your O.W.L. scores. You got an Outstanding in Defense, Charms, Potions, and Transfiguration and twelve in total, one for each subject. Quite extraordinary really. Few witches or wizards manage that and even fewer with perfect Outstandings across the board."
"Just what are you aiming for Headmaster?" Harry inquired, brushing his bangs out of the way. "Are you going to offer me some kind of training gig with you like you have with Daniel? Do you want me to follow you around like a spineless poofster? Like a loveless puppy? What wasn't clear last night to you? Bridges have been burned."
"They can be rebuilt," Dumbledore returned, setting aside the parchment. "All it takes is the right materials and a little bit of time."
Harry snorted, flopping back against the chair. "All I'm looking for is my Hogwarts diploma and a few opportunities. I've worked hard to become self-sufficient; to be someone."
Albus sighed heavily, idly picking up a quill and twirling it. "Will you at least afford me the possibility of changing your mind? You have heard of the Order, how could you not with both your parents in it. From our discussion yesterday it seems you've surmised the chief goal of that little group of mine, but you don't know any specifics."
Harry glanced out the window, taking in the quidditch pitch. The owlery stood a short distance from it and he wondered how Hedwig was doing. He hadn't talk to her nearly as much as he should have, what with Serion. He closed his eyes; thinking about his friend wasn't conducive right now. As he opened his eyes, Harry wondered how long this thing the muggles called heartfire or something akin was going to last.
"Harry?" the Headmaster intoned softly, seeing the desolate grief that flared in the boy's gaze as he turned back to face him.
"Go on," Harry said quietly, wishing Hermione was here already. He could use the quiet comfort of her hand in his.
"The Order is comprised of several important persons who wish to fight against Lord Voldemort in a way that the ministry can't allow them to do. More than a bit illegal but still operating under the minister's knowledge. Fudge quietly supports it with no active involvement other than to keep the Auror Department from sniffing at us.
"Together the group is more than the sum of its parts. Each person brings something to the table. You speak of opportunities, Harry. The real Alastor Moody for instance takes time out of his retirement to help train the incomers at the envy of several Aurors, who would surely jump through hoops to get such an opportunity."
Harry perked up at this, leaning forward eagerly. It was still his fondest wish to join the most prestigious and elite law enforcement force in magical Britain. "I'm listening," he said, trying hard not to sound the least bit interested in getting training from one of the top Aurors to ever go through the department.
"Others, who are the top in their field," Dumbledore continued smoothly, eyes twinkling. "Offer fast paced apprentice positions, which are certifiable and are as good as any traditional apprentice practice's certificates of conclusion. More sellable to future employers even."
Harry frowned. "Seems too good to be true to offer to a few measly fresh Hogwarts graduates. Shouldn't you be offering them to Cambridge or Eton magical alumni?"
"They aren't in the thick of it, but you are Harry and you're hardly just any Hogwarts student."
"Could have fooled me," Harry muttered under his breath, standing up and pacing the breadth of the Headmaster's office, touching the odd silver instruments strewn about wimbly-pimbly.
"You've faced Voldemort and lived to tell about it," Dumbledore went on blithely.
Harry shook his head at a bookcase. "Several times," he muttered dryly, reading the nearest title Ice Mice and Other Nice Candy Confections.
"Your brother is meeting with several of the Order's members for special training. As Daniel's brother you will be a prime target for Lord Voldemort, so surely you can see that you would benefit from these sessions as well."
Harry turned back to the Headmaster and looked him straight in the eye. "I'm sorry, but no thank you."
Dumbledore frowned. "If you're certain, Harry?"
"Absolutely."
Dumbledore sighed and pluck a candy from the dish beside him, popping into his mouth. He sucked on it for a moment before declaring, "Well I won't make you, Harry, but---Do come in Daniel."
Harry, who hadn't heard a knock spun around just as the door opened and admitted his useless twin into the plush office. Daniel scowled at Harry's presence before ignoring him completely as he turned to the Headmaster.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said, motioning towards one of the chairs. "Do sit down, Daniel, Harry."
Daniel took Harry's vacated seat, flaring out his robes as he did. Harry sat down without ceremony and stared unblinkingly at the Headmaster because otherwise he'd be glaring holes through Daniel's head.
"There was a bit of trouble last night at your parents' house, Daniel. Harry already knows all about it--"
"Death Eaters?" Daniel inserted, looking worried.
Dumbledore nodded. "The Order arrived in time to help James and Lily escape, but they are not without harm. Both are currently resting and awake down in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey is expecting to release them to at-home care within the next three days. Your mother sooner than your father as he was hit by a rather nasty spell."
"Did we capture any of the bastards?" Daniel asked, his eyes hard.
"All but one," Dumbledore said, holding out his bowl of lemon drops to Daniel, who accepted and plunked it in his mouth. "And while the ending of last night's confrontation is a happy one, I'm sad to inform you both that you won't be able to go back home this holiday."
Daniel choked, spitting out his hard candy. "Wait--What?" he gasped. "Not go home? But I always go home!"
Harry rolled his eyes. Of course his brother went home, where else was he going to go to open up the mound of presents bestowed upon him by everyone and their mother in wizarding Britain? Harry on the other hand never went home, choosing to stay in Ravenclaw tower and read the holidays away. "Do you ever listen, Daniel?" Harry replied scathingly. "If Death Eaters can break through the Headmaster's warding on our house, it isn't safe to stay there."
"Nobody can break through Dumbledore's wards!" Daniel defended, jumping to his feet.
"If they're on one of the Gringott's warding teams, I don't see why not," Harry retorted at the same time Dumbledore said, "I'm afraid they did, Daniel. Alas even I am not infallible."
Daniel glanced back at the Headmaster flabbergasted. "Then what are we going to do? If your warding fails then the only place safe is Hogwarts!"
"There is one other place," Dumbledore replied slowly, glancing from Harry to Daniel. "Your Uncle Sirius' place; home of the Order."
Daniel sat back down with a thunk. "That dump?" he questioned. "You've got to be kidding me! There's no way I'm going to spend my winter hols in that rundown townhouse!"
"Oh, do shut up," Harry drawled. "I'm sure the Headmaster doesn't care about your delicate sensibilities."
"Now, Harry, Daniel. It won't be that bad. The Weasleys will be there. Your mother and Molly already have a plan on how to cheer up the old place and Sirius will be delighted to have everyone. It's all set. When everybody goes home on the weekend you two will come here and Floo to Headquarters."
Hermione knocked and entered quietly at Dumbledore's beckoning. She took a seat next to him and he took her hand. She smiled at him beatifically before turning to face the Headmaster. Very anticlimactic indeed, Harry thought as the meeting was concluded swiftly and without much fuss.
º«««º»»»ºEnd Chapter 23º«««º»»»º