Disclaimer: It all belongs to Jo. I make no money from this. If I did, I'd have a laptop that didn't overheat just from typing in Word.
WARNING. This chapter will be getting somewhat graphic towards the end. Violence, coarse language, and general ass-kickery are about to take place. Consider yourself warned.
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It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining brightly outside the balcony door, there were birds singing, and the smell of the conjured flowers from the balcony was wafting into the room.
Harry groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in a sad attempt to block the sun out. "Effing sun," he muttered, not impressed. His head was pounding and the intense light was only making it worse. Harry was rather annoyed with the sun and birds for having woken him up so early. He'd been having a rather interesting dream about Hermione and himself, and the lingerie from Harrods. He looked at the clock on his nightstand. One thirty-four. Merlin, it's afternoon already? Harry thought in wonder. He sat up, and quickly lay back down again. His stomach didn't feel so good either. Between the pounding in his brain and the sloshing in his stomach, Harry wasn't sure what he felt. In an attempt to calm himself, Harry began to recount the day's previous events.
He and Hermione had gone shopping, spent a ton of money on clothes, bought a car and spent a ton of money on that, and then they went to Paris for dinner because she'd won a bet she'd made with him while shopping. Not so bad, he figured. Dinner had been good, he'd discovered how much of a wanker Ron had been to Hermione, and he'd-Dear Merlin, had he really?
Just then Harry's stomach began to turn, causing him to roll over onto one side and clutch his knees to his chest in an attempt to make the feeling go away. Hermione's sleeping form greeted him, sending him rolling the other way in shock and right out of bed, whacking his head off the wall in the process.
"Oi!" Harry grunted, his head hurting even more. Rather than look back at Hermione sleeping in his bed, he crawled his way into the bathroom and clutched at the toilet bowl. Between bouts of queasiness Harry managed to take off the chain with his dad's wedding band on it. As hung over as he may have been feeling, he had enough wits about him to know this was a time where he was going to need his own private thoughts. He slumped back onto the floor tiles, appreciating the coolness against his bare skin. It was then that Harry realized he was stark naked. He quickly made a grab for a towel of some sort, and wrapped it around his waist.
It really did happen, he thought in wonder. His mind was reeling with memories of the previous night. His and Hermione's unceremonious landing back in the hotel, her falling onto him, his grabbing at her… Did I really grab at her like that? Sweet Merlin I flipped her over and everything! She was drunk and I seduced her! Harry was in shock.
Please, Harry, she practically threatened you because you hadn't kissed her yet! His conscience yelled back at him, This is Hermione we're talking about. If she didn't want it to happen, it wouldn't.
The reasoning of Harry's conscience wasn't making him feel any better.
He reluctantly crawled back into the bedroom after downing a glass of water, readjusting his towel. He leaned against the wall next to the bed, and waited for Hermione to wake up.
Minutes later the chirping and the sun got to be too much for her, too. She let out a soft moan, the effects of the hangover not quite settling in yet. She slowly pushed herself up, shielding her eyes from the sun.
"Harry?" she asked quietly, seeing him on the floor.
He raised his eyes to look at her.
"Did we…?" she asked, clearly remembering the nights events much sooner than he had.
"Depends on what you're implying," he muttered.
Hermione looked at him quizzically, spying his father's ring in his hand. "Why, what do you remember?"
Harry looked back at the floor. Did he really have to answer this? "I-um-we…" Harry wasn't quite sure how to say it. His head still ached. How do you tell your best friend that you were both completely pissed the night before and that you'd ravished her in every way imaginable?
Hermione lifted herself from the bed, the sheets sliding away from her body. She, too, was still naked, but apparently much more comfortable with her body than Harry was. She joined Harry on the floor despite her internal struggle with her stomach.
He quickly averted his eyes, not wanting to make anything worse.
"Harry, we didn't…" Hermione wasn't sure how to phrase it; she didn't want to embarrass him. "We didn't have sex," she said, covering his hand with her own.
"We didn't?" Harry asked, confused. Okay, maybe not every way imaginable, but nearly. He couldn't remember everything that happened, but given their current state of nakedness and the fact that they woke up in the same bed, he could've sworn something had transpired between the two of them.
Hermione saw the confusion on his face, and decided to explain. "No, we didn't. But we did other things," she whispered, snuggling herself closer to him.
Harry went rigid; he didn't move a muscle. He'd never had a naked girl pressed against him before (not including the previous night, of course, as he didn't remember much of that), let alone his best friend. He wasn't sure if it were proper etiquette to become aroused by it, so instead he filled his mind with thoughts of unpleasant things. Dolores Umbridge… Umbridge naked… Snape… Snape naked… Harry felt like he was going to throw up again, but he had to keep going to prevent himself from embarrassing Hermione. Snape and Umbridge naked... Eww! Snape and Umbridge naked together!
He had to stop, so he disentangled himself from Hermione's arms and moved to sit back on the edge of the bed. As he moved, Hermione clutched at her stomach. She quickly made a mad dash for the bathroom, clearly experiencing the same thing Harry just had. He waited for her to come back, knowing she'd feel better once she'd thrown up a bit.
Minutes later, after Hermione had vigorously brushed her teeth, she made her way back into the bedroom. She was greeted by Harry, who was now wearing boxers, at least. She made a grab for something to cover herself with, and settled for Harry's button-down shirt from the night before. It was the closest thing.
"Harry, do you remember now?" she looked at him, hoping he would.
He couldn't help but think about how good she looked standing in front of him, wearing nothing but his shirt. He shook his head. He remembered her taking off her dress, and driving him mad while she took his clothes off. He remembered a lot of kissing and their being naked, but past that his memory was fuzzy. "I remember us not wearing anything and snogging, but past that, I don't know… it's fuzzy, like my memory's been Obliviated."
Hermione's face fell. It had been such an amazing night for both of them, how could he not remember? "Y'know, Harry," she smiled seductively, clearly feeling a bit better after her trip to the bathroom, "I could always remind you," she said, joining him on the bed.
Harry froze. Her hand rested on his chest, and she pulled herself closer. She drew lazy circles on his stomach with the tip of her finger as she began to kiss him. Her kiss seemed to relax Harry. Sensing his muscles loosen up, Hermione's hand slid down until her fingertips were just under the elastic waistband of Harry's boxers.
He immediately bolted upright, pushing her hand away. "I get the point, Hermione, thanks," he said gruffly, getting off the bed.
"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked, tears quickly forming in her eyes. She stared at his back as he headed back to the bathroom, grabbing a bigger towel and slinging it over the shower door. Not wanting to let him go, she leapt up from the bed and followed him. "Harry, what is it?" She placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to turn him to look at her.
Harry grabbed both her wrists and pinned her against the wall, pressing himself close enough to keep her from squirming out of his way. He lightly thrust his hips at her, pushing her back again.
Hermione gasped. She could feel him against her stomach, just like she had last night. He still wants me! She thought excitedly.
The next four words out of Harry's mouth sent Hermione reeling.
"You're acting like Ginny." He said, looking deep into her eyes.
Tears streamed down her face as Harry's words hit her like a smack across the face.
"Harry, I-" she stammered, trying to defend her actions.
"You think she didn't try this?" he said, his tone low and angry. "She stole some Firewhisky from Fred and George and tried to get me to drink it with her. I had a shot or two but when I began to feel funny I stopped. She kept pushing for me to drink more and kept putting her hands under my robes." Harry averted his eyes from Hermione's, his next words seeming harder to say. "The difference between you and Ginny is that I wouldn't have expected it from you. She came at me with a look in her eye that made it easy to tell what she was planning on getting with that Firewhisky. You acted all innocent, falling all over me like you didn't know what was going on. And you're the one who succeeded."
He dropped her hands and stormed out of the bathroom, pulling a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a new pair of trainers out of the Harrods packages. He pulled the clothing on quickly, stuffing his dad's ring in his pocket. "I'll be back, I'm going for a walk. I need to think straight and clear my head."
"Harry, wait!" Hermione yelled from the bathroom between sobs. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself, running back into the bedroom only to hear the door slam shut.
It was too late. He had already left. Not willing to lose him over this, Hermione dressed as quickly as he had and left the room, taking the stairs to the lobby of the hotel in the hopes that she'd beat the elevator down. When she arrived she discovered the elevator had already headed back upstairs, and Harry was nowhere to be seen. Hermione ran out the lobby door and looked around the street, trying to see which direction Harry had gone in. She ran off to her right, hoping she would be able to find him before he decided he hated her.
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Harry was still in shock. He knew Hermione loved him, and he was fully aware of the physical attraction between the two of them. He was in utter disbelief that she had gotten him drunk on champagne at the Jules Verne in Paris, and having even more trouble believing what had transpired between the two of them.
He spotted a bench in front of a little shop and sat down, resting his head in his hands. His mind began running through everything that had happened, beginning with when they got back from Paris. Hermione had tumbled into bed with him, having tripped on her own feet. She'd landed across his body, and Harry had become extremely aroused. He'd turned her onto her back. She'd ordered him to kiss her, and he had. He'd nibbled and kissed, she'd taken off her dress and… His body went hot thinking of her in the lingerie he'd picked up at Harrods. Then she'd asked if he wanted her. He hadn't said yes, but he hadn't said no. He had said that she didn't have to do it. Sweet Merlin, she didn't make me do anything! She asked! And bloody hell, I offered her a chance to say no and she didn't take it. Harry felt terrible for having yelled at her. They'd both been willing; they'd both been more than happy to do it. And I just accused her of acting like Ginny, he lamented. Not wanting to waste another second, Harry headed back to the hotel to apologize to Hermione.
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Hermione couldn't find Harry anywhere. She had searched the area around the hotel and had turned up nothing. She had even tried calling out to him with her thoughts but apparently he still wasn't wearing his dad's ring. About to give up and head back to the hotel room, Hermione spotted a figure sulking in an alleyway. Hoping it was Harry trying to hide from Muggles so he could think, Hermione headed into the alley.
Seconds after she'd left the safety of the sidewalk Hermione was grabbed from behind, a hand covering her mouth. Fear coursed through her veins; she was convinced she was about to be mugged or raped.
"Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!" Hermione heard a familiar voice mutter as ropes bound her body and her wand flew from its holster.
The sulking figure stepped forward from the shadows, his white-blond hair immediately giving away his identity.
Draco Malfoy! Hermione realized, her eyes going wide. Vincent Crabbe joined him from the shadows, an evil grin on his face.
"Hello, Mudblood." Draco sneered, looking her up and down. "I must say, you've definitely filled out a bit since term ended. That'll make our task here more enjoyable." He nodded at the person behind her, who released her mouth and joined Draco at his side.
Goyle laughed at Draco's words. "She feels pretty good," he said, leering at her.
Hermione was dumbstruck by the three boys in front of her. She didn't understand why they'd singled her out.
"The Dark Lord wishes to speak with you, Granger," Draco said, beginning to pace back and forth between Crabbe and Goyle. "For reasons beyond me he seems to think that your know-it-all tendencies can help him. He wishes for you to join his Death Eaters, though I personally think he's a bit nutters for even suggesting it. Of course," he took on the air of a pompous windbag, "it is not my place to question the Dark Lord. So what'll it be, Granger?"
"Why even ask?" she spat out. "Even if I say no he'll just put me under the Imperius curse." Hermione did her best to be brave in the face of evil.
"See, that's the thing, Granger. Apparently Mudbloods aren't so worth the Dark Lord's time that he'll put you under a curse himself. Oh no. If you won't come willingly, we have other orders." He paused for dramatic effect. "If you won't come willingly, we have the Dark Lord's permission to do what we like with you." Crabbe and Goyle snickered, clearly pleased. "I'm sure my friends here wouldn't mind having a go at you, but I don't take sloppy seconds or thirds."
Hermione's body went rigid. She hoped Harry had put his dad's ring back on. Harry, please, I'm so sorry! I need you! Draco, Crabbe and Goyle have me tied up in an alley by the hotel!
About a kilometre away, Harry had just slipped the chain back over his head when he caught the words 'tied up in an alley by the hotel'.
'Mione? What's going on? Where are you? He'd heard the panic in her words.
/Thank Merlin you can hear me, Harry! I wasn't sure when you'd put your ring back on. It's Draco! He brought Crabbe and Goyle, and they were going to take me to Voldemort but since I won't go willingly they're going to---ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! No! Please, Harry! Hurry!/
Unbeknownst to Harry, Malfoy had just begun debating with Crabbe and Goyle over whether he should torture her with the Cruciatus before, or after, they were through with her.
I can't help you unless I know where you are!
Harry was running flat out now, checking every alley he passed. He heard a scream, and his blood ran cold. Blocking out the fact that it was Hermione, he focused on where the sound was coming from and ran towards it.
Malfoy had renewed the Incarcerous charm, and had modified it so that Hermione's wrists were bound together, while Crabbe and Goyle held her ankles to the ground. He began to remove his robes and roll up his sleeves. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy this, Mudblood. I've been dying to teach you a lesson ever since you smacked me in third year. You're going to pay for that, you filthy little bitch!"
He dropped to his knees, leering at her, as he shifted until he was straddling her hips. With a resoundingly loud crack he slapped her, leaving a large, stinging red mark across her cheek. "Did I ever tell you, Granger, that the Dark Lord likes to reward his servants with Mudblood women to play with?" he whispered in her ear.
Hermione's eyes went wide with fright as Draco leaned back and his hands moved towards his trousers. Before he could move his fingers to undo them he was hit with a bright red light and sent flying backward.
Both Crabbe and Goyle were knocked back as well, but the red lights just kept coming. Harry was firing stunners at them silently at a rapid pace as he ran through the alleyway towards Hermione. Seeing her lying out on the ground with her hands bound was too much for Harry.
Sectumsempra! He yelled in his head, aiming his wand at Crabbe and Goyle. Before he could see the effects of the curse he turned to Malfoy. Reducto! Severerus!
Hermione raised her head just in time to realize she would need to duck. Harry had not known that combining those two charms would have such a devastating effect. Harry quickly ran to her, satisfied that Malfoy was taken care of.
Did you-just--? Hermione wondered, thinking her eyes had deceived her.
Yeah, wasn't expecting that. I meant to knock him down and cut off a finger or two to scare him, but hey… close enough. Harry wouldn't turn around to see the body of Draco Malfoy. He had accidentally cut off the right arm of the young Death Eater, and his searing power had cauterized the wound. Unfortunately, should Malfoy live despite his injury, there would be no silver arm for him like Pettigrew's hand. Ordinarily Harry would have felt extreme remorse and guilt at having caused such a travesty, but given what he had just saved Hermione from, he felt nothing at all for Draco. Crabbe and Goyle lay bleeding out on the ground. Harry simply turned his back, knowing that he would later claim that he had been so worried about Hermione that he had forgotten all about Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, St. Mungo's, Blood-Replenishing potion, and healing charms.
Harry knelt down and scooped her up in his arms, holding her as close as he could. Why did you follow me? I said I'd be back! He said. His tone sounded angry, even though he hadn't meant for it to come across that way. He couldn't help but think that if he hadn't stormed out of the hotel, this would have never happened.
"I love you, Harry." Hermione whispered, still clearly in shock. She had just come close to being nothing but a plaything to torture, violate, and kill, and her mind was still having trouble wrapping around that fact.
Not caring if he wouldn't be seventeen for another three days, Harry Apparated himself and Hermione back to the hotel room. He sat on his bed, Hermione still in his arms. He held her close, taking in the scent of her skin. He looked at her, and her eyes were brimming with tears. It was just beginning to sink in that Harry had saved her life.
Seeing her tears, Harry began to gently kiss them away. He cupped her face in his hand, and kissed her. Not with the heat and passion of his other kisses, but with tenderness and emotion. "I love you too, 'Mione." He whispered in her ear. He, too, was beginning to realize what had almost happened to Hermione; that he had almost lost her for good. If only hadn't been stubborn and taken his ring off earlier that morning, he might've known sooner.
He lay back against the pillows, still cradling Hermione to his chest. "I promise you that I will never leave you alone. Ever."
She snuggled deeper into his arms, revelling in the magic of his touch. Her skin was on fire, and together, they began to glow from within. Hermione realized they resembled human light bulbs, but she didn't care. She was alive, Harry loved her, and she was the one place she'd always felt the safest: in Harry's arms.