The Simple Truth

Title: The Simple Truth

Author: JK Rowling. *snerk* Nope, couldn’t type it with a straight face.

Rating: NC-17

Category: Romance/Drama

Summary: An experiment in second person that turned into an affair fic.

Disclaimer: No, JK Rowling didn’t write this, but she still owns all the rights to all things Harry Potter, along with everyone she’s sold her soul them to, and I have no profit or possession in any of it. I’m just the monkey that typed it.

A/N: Yes, I’m working on A Most Advantageous Match. Never fear.

~

You wake up to the feeling of his tongue on your clitoris, lapping like a cat at a bowl of milk. He sucks so hard on the little nub that it almost hurts, but the feeling is powerful and intense, and you can’t get enough. You cry out a loud, desperate moan just as you’re about to come, feeling the tension grow and prepare to snap…and then he stops in that cruel way of his and crawls back up your body with kisses and flicks of his tongue.

“You’re an awful tease,” you tell him, although you know he’ll soon be inside you, and that will make it all worthwhile.

You run your fingers over his back. He is beautiful, broad-shouldered but slender, just barely tanned and very well-toned. It’s an amazing contrast to the scrawny, pasty little boy you used to know. His hair still sticks up at odd angles, but now it’s irresistible. You can’t help running your fingers through it. It’s soft and silky and ever so sexy as he looks up at you with those dazzling, forest green eyes of his.

“You love it when I tease you, Hermione,” and he’s right. You love everything he does to you because nobody else has ever made you feel this way, like your nerves are about to burn down to ashes and your whole body would melt and evaporate if he weren’t there holding you together.

Wanting him desperately tonight, you pull him down for a kiss. Your lips are chapped from always kissing him like this – with lips and tongue and teeth, trying to devour each other. Every time, you try to take in every bit of him, in the hope that maybe one day you’ll be too much of each other to ever part like you’ll have to when this is over.

Harry’s lips trail along your jaw lovingly. He nips at your earlobe and kisses down your neck, careful not to leave any lovebites – at least not in plain sight – lest someone should see. All you can do is whisper his name with the small bit of breath you have left and cling to him, weak and mind-boggled with too much yearning for too many months. His lips are on your breast now, suckling and laving as his fingers twist and tweak your other nipple. He never stops until both nipples stand out painfully; that’s when he knows your ache has become overwhelming.

“Please…oh, please,” you can only beg, squirming under his fingertips. “I need it…I need it now.”

He never denies you when you beg like that, tease though he is. You moan as the tip of his cock brushes against your swollen center. Such a light touch, and already your body is buzzing with the sensation.

You cry out as he slides into you. He is long and stretches your walls deliciously, and every single time feels like it’s been years since you last had him inside you. You can never get enough, no matter how deeply he penetrates, no matter how hard.

He always starts slowly, trying to make it last longer for both your sakes, but he always speeds up as you both come closer to the edge – that glorious edge that you think you must know better than any other woman in the world. Now he’s pounding into you, and you know you’ll be bruised and tender in the morning, but it doesn’t matter in this moment.

It’s almost too much to bear as you feel your climax building to a crescendo, waves of sound and heat crashing into you, and then it bursts through. You can only squeeze your eyes shut and watch the fireworks behind your eyelids as every sound that rises in your throat comes flying out.

You’re vaguely aware that he hasn’t come yet as the tremors go on and on, and you can hardly stand meeting his thrusts; the pleasure is so strong, it’s almost pain. You dig your fingers into his shoulders and whisper things into his ear that you’d only ever say to him, and as you give him a little squeeze, you finally feel his release.

When he collapses onto the bed beside you, there are tears on your faces. There always are, even if they get lost in the sweat and kisses.

You seek refuge from the deluge of emotions in his arms, hoping the pounding of his heart in your ears will settle your own. Your skin sticks together and it’s almost like you’re finally one and the same.

He whispers sweet endearments to you as you drift off to sleep, and you’re glad, at times like these, that your husband doesn’t want you anymore. You could have nobody but Harry now.

~

You wake holding her in your arms, and for as long as she stays slumbering peacefully, everything is right in the world. She is all yours while she sleeps, can’t run home to her husband, can’t say spending the night with you is wrong. Nothing, in your mind, has ever felt so right.

You can’t believe how much you love her after all those years you spent completely ignoring her beauty, her devotion, her fire. Then again, you’ve never been allowed to love her like you’ve finally let yourself…you couldn’t look at her that way, when she belonged to your best friend. But by now you’ve decided he has no right to her – not when he stays out all night with the women he picks up in the pubs after work. How can you feel guilty when he’s the one leaving her waiting home alone?

She stirs in your arms, a smile on her face, and you hope she’s dreaming of you because you can’t bear the thought that she’s still happy with him. Slowly, her eyes flutter open and you hold your breath, waiting for her to realize whose arms she’s in.

Her smile stays on, but fades slowly as the panic sets in. You can hear her thoughts buzzing – what time is it, is he home yet, will this be the time we get caught….

You wish she’d leave him. He doesn’t deserve her, doesn’t love her completely and unconditionally, doesn’t know her like you do. You know, also, that she’d be right with you; she’d be happy…she wouldn’t be having an affair behind your back, because you could give her all the love she’d ever need. You wish she could see that.

Your future is full of her now. In every dream, every fantasy, she is there – your lover, your wife, your temptress, the mother of your children. No one else will do; she is the only woman you will ever love, the only one you could spend the rest of your days with. More than anything, you want your ring on her finger, not someone else’s.

Her eyes meet yours, and she doesn’t know it, but it’s everything, your whole world, right there, snug between your warm bodies.

“I should go,” she whispers, though there’s no one to overhear. “If he comes home and I’m not there –“

“You know he won’t be back before dawn,” you say. “Not after a Saturday night at the pub.”

“Harry…please…”

“Why do you keep going back to him?” you ask for the first time. You’ve never dared before, but every time she leaves you, it gets harder to hold your tongue.

She stiffens and her arms tense as if to push you away, and you can’t bear the feeling of her pulling away from you.

“I made a promise – I made my vows – to stay with him, for better or for worse.”

In spite of yourself, you feel anger flare in your stomach at the implication that she still loves him. “He hasn’t honored his vows for a long time, Hermione. He hasn’t honored you or cherished you or…or loved you for a long time,” you say, and the unfinished thought rings in your ears. Not like I love you. Why will you devote yourself to him and not to me?

You can see her reading your thoughts as she looks into your eyes, and for a moment, you hate her for it, for knowing exactly how you feel and doing nothing, for not loving you the way you love her.

“I made my promise, Harry,” she says softly. “I know he’s made his mistakes, but doesn’t he deserve it as much as any other?”

“No!” you cry, the words wrenching themselves from your throat with the force of your anger – and pain. “Maybe in the beginning, he deserved your devotion, but not anymore. Love has to be earned.”

“Sometimes doing the right thing is more important than love,” she says softly. “You told me that, remember? Before the final battle, when Ginny was kidnapped, and I thought you would go after her…but you told me you weren’t going to. You said love wasn’t as important as killing him.”

You want to go back in time and eat those words so that she can never use them against you. “I didn’t know what love was then,” you say. “I didn’t love her, Hermione, but if it had been you…I would have let Voldemort have the whole world if it meant you would be safe and happy.”

“Safe and happy,” she repeats, “but not necessarily with you. You’ve never been selfish, Harry.”

Her words sting. “I can’t believe you’re happy with him,” you say bitterly, “but maybe that’s wishful thinking. Maybe I’m being presumptuous because I can’t imagine being happy without you…but you don’t feel the same way, do you?”

You can see the torment in her eyes, and her pain hurts you, even as you hate her a little bit for her indecision.

“There was a time when you would have wanted to protect him, too,” she says. “What changed?”

“He hurt you,” you say honestly. “I could forgive him anything but that.”

She softens ever so slightly. “Harry, I love you, in a way that I never loved him. But I did love him. Do you really want me to hurt him?”

The anger bubbles up again, and for once, you realize, you understand something she does not. It is not a triumphant feeling, but a hollow one. You don’t like the way things are anymore than she does.

“You have to hurt someone,” you say quietly. “Yes, you might hurt him by leaving him, but I love you, too. Sneaking around when your husband is away isn’t enough; it’s never been enough. I want to be your husband, I want to have a family with you, I want to spend the last moment of my life with you and every moment before that. I can’t rid my heart of you, Hermione; I never will. Don’t you see? Every time you leave me I die a little more.”

You release her and roll onto your back, knowing clinging to her will not help you keep her. “You have to choose which heart you’re going to break, Hermione…if you choose to stand by him, it will be mine.”

She is crying now, and you wish you could comfort her, but there’s nothing left to be done. You’ve laid it all out, and she must make her choice now.

She takes in a great, shuddering breath beside you. “And how do you know you won’t stop loving me like he did?”

“Ron was a boy when you married him,” you say bitterly. “He still is. He never had a chance to learn what love was. But I’ve made my mistakes with other women; I’ve thought I loved them, but in the end, I was always comparing them to you, and they never measured up. I know now that you’re the one I want, that I’ve always wanted. Can’t you understand?”

She lets out a single sob and finds her way back into your arms. “Yes. Yes, I’ve done the very same thing.”

You savor her skin as her tears roll down your chest, and you can feel the change in her, the unblocking of her heart. All of her is there with you now, every last corner of her mind and heart, and you understand that that, really, is what you’ve always wanted. Not the conventional trappings of love…just to know that she has finally given herself back to you after you sacrificed yourself at her feet all those months ago.

“It seems so simple now,” she whispers. “And I feel so guilty, because it shouldn’t be simple. It should be complicated and hard…I owe him that much, don’t I?”

You don’t think she owes him anything, but you will not say as much. “If we love each other, and you don’t love him, then it is simple. There’s only one conclusion, and if you try to ignore it, we all suffer, even him. It is simple, and he’s had his chance.”

She nods and kisses you, and it’s the truest kiss you’ve ever shared. In all your other kisses, at least one of you has been fighting it, even while giving in. This is the first time she hasn’t been trying not to love you, and it cleanses your soul, taking all the rage and pain with it. It is simple now, and in that simplicity, there is a beautiful peace.

“I still have to go,” she says. “I don’t want him to find out about my infidelity the way I found out about his.”

You do not mind letting her go now. You don’t feel uneasy as she puts on her clothes and gathers up her things, not like you usually do. You don’t despair when she kisses you goodbye and Apparates away. This time, you know she’ll be back, and that’s enough.

The End

A/N: Before anyone asks, yes, that’s it. No epilogues. You all know Hermione will be back in Harry’s bed very soon, and you’re really disappointed that you won’t get to see the reunion smut as well as the mid-affair smut. :P