The Gift

Tim Colon Tim Colon 2 332 2003-07-19T06:04:00Z 2003-07-19T06:04:00Z 1 2928 16691 Personal Use 139 39 19580 10.3501 Clean Clean MicrosoftInternetExplorer4

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling, not me. No profit is being made from this story. This fic is very very NC-17, so if that bothers you, leave now.

Harry apparated in the living room of the house, feeling thoroughly exhausted. Everything was quiet and dark – it was quite late after all. He didn’t bother turning on the lights, preferring in fact to remain in the dark for now. The day had not gone well. This particular day had seen him up since five, and the lack of sleep from the evening before combined with the hell of the day’s events had left him feeling like a drained shell of a man. The worst part though was that the day had been a failure.

The suspect had escaped. Not just escaped – he had done millions of galleons in damage before barely avoiding capture. Harry was good at what he did. Many considered him the best. But some days the bad guy got away.

Harry was part of a special task force. More than just an Auror, Harry was a special enforcer. Not content to merely hunt ordinary dark wizards and witches, Harry and his team were an elite group that sought out and brought to justice the most dangerous wanted criminals of the wizarding world. Mass murderers, serial rapists, and of course those former death eaters still at large were Harry’s prey. There weren’t many of the latter still alive of course; Harry himself had seen to that after sending their master to the hell he so deserved slightly over three years ago.

Today’s criminal had been at the top of the most wanted list for years. Lucius Malfoy had been within Harry’s grasp – the last of Voldemort’s former inner circle. After weeks of surveillance and spy work, Harry had received word early that morning that Malfoy would be in a vulnerable location later in the day for the first time in years.

In hindsight, he should have known better. It had all been a little too convenient. Perhaps he was slipping. The trap had not only leveled an office building just outside of London, but had almost cost Harry his life. He was lucky to have escaped with only minor injuries that had already been mostly healed back at the medical wing of headquarters.

Harry let out a sigh. Lucius had escaped, and almost as bad, he had made Harry and his team look like fools. No, he thought – today had not been a good day at all. Wincing, Harry gingerly shrugged his left shoulder, which in spite of the superb medical staff at HQ was still sore as hell. Wanting nothing more than to get in the tub and soak this miserable day away, Harry pulled his shirt over his head and began to make his way tiredly up the stairs to the bathroom. How ironic, he thought, that this had to happen today. Well, that was the problem with arch-criminals………..they had no respect for a person’s schedule.

He was surprised to find her waiting for him at the top of the stairs. Even after the horrible events of the day, Harry couldn’t stop a small smile from making its way onto his face when he saw her. She was standing in the shadows of the upstairs hallway. Pale moonlight was making its way through the skylight set in the ceiling, pooling between where he now stood and where she leaned against the wall watching him.

As soon as he saw her, she started moving towards him. As she passed through the gathered light, Harry let out a soft gasp. Hermione was wearing nothing but one of his white t-shirts, and it ended barely below the tops of her thighs.

“Rough day?” she asked him softly. Harry started to reply, but she gently placed a finger to his lips, shaking her head slightly. Wordlessly she took his hand in hers and led him down the hall, the shirt riding dangerously high up as she walked. Harry swallowed involuntarily as he realized she really WAS wearing nothing but the shirt. He felt the beginnings of a stirring below his waist.

When Hermione led him through the door to their bathroom, he stared in amazement. There was already a full bath drawn. Candles lit the entire area with a soft light, tapers recently lit, and soft jazz music was seemingly coming from nowhere. The very air in the room seemed to demand relaxation. Harry watched as his wife turned to face him with a smile.

She started with his pants, slowly drawing them off of him and carelessly discarding them in the corner. His socks came next, and when they were added to the pants he was left in just his boxers. Hermione eyed him appreciatively, taking a moment to run her hands over his well toned chest and back. He truly had turned into a remarkably handsome man. Work and constant training had kept him in top shape. Although he lacked the frame to be extremely muscular, her hands could feel the well toned muscle that was there. The unruly hair she loved so much hadn’t changed, but his eyes had. Always expressive, now they mirrored his emotions even more than in his youth. All he had to do to melt her heart was to stare at her with those emerald eyes.

Harry closed his eyes at his wife’s touch; a barely audible sigh escaping his lips. The sigh became a light hiss a moment later, a sharp intake of breath, as her lips planted a row of soft kisses across his upper body. His eyes flew open, and she gave him a small smile before pulling away slightly.

Hermione kneeled in front of Harry and gently grasped his boxers, sliding them down his legs. She pretended not to notice the erection now directly in front of her, instead gently lifting each leg to allow him to step out of his last piece of clothing. When he was naked at last, she motioned for him to get into the water.

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a weary grunt, Harry let himself sink into the water gratefully. The tub was large, big enough for two people, and deep. He let himself sink all the way up to his neck. Closing his eyes with a sigh of contentment, he leaned his neck down on his chest and let the warmth of the water start to work its magic on his aching muscles.

A soft splash soon startled him out of his light daze. Hermione had gotten into the tub with him, and sweet lord, she still had the shirt on. With a flick of her wand, the water level in the tub decreased dramatically, leaving most of his body above the water line. A bar of soap was in one of her hands, and a washcloth in the other. Harry barely noticed this though – he was much more intrigued by the sight of two breasts, clearly visible through the wet shirt, inches in front of his face.

Without a word, she lathered the washcloth and began to get him very soapy. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her body as she moved the cloth over his chest, his shoulders, and his legs. She rubbed her own very wet body against him as she worked the cloth, reaching around behind him with her chest pressed to his to reach the small of his back. Soon he was covered in lather, and painfully hard.

Hermione stepped out of the tub and reached behind her to grab a small bucket. Filling it with water, she proceeded to rinse the lather from Harry’s body. Bucket after bucket was emptied over him, until he was completed rinsed clean. The whole time she was cleaning him, Harry’s wife was standing there in her drenched shirt, the flimsy material plastered to her like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. He could see her dark nipples clearly, and the trimmed light patch between her legs. He stared, riveted, body aching with a need that was a far cry from the weariness it had held just a short time before.

Just when he was about to get up and out of the tub, thinking it was over, she stepped closer once more and squatted next to him. Harry, with a questioning look, opened his mouth to speak, but again Hermione gently pressed a finger to his lips. He watched, hypnotized, as her hand slowly made its way down his body to his lap and gently gripped him. His heartbeat thundered in his own ears as she began stroking him, her eyes locked on his, a small smile on her lips.

God, she knew just how he liked it. She took her time, stroking the full length of his hardness in her fist, feeling it throb in her hand. The entire time she never looked away from him, just stared deep into his eyes with that half smile as she watched him fight to maintain control.

She picked up her tempo suddenly, hand gliding up and down his shaft with more force and speed, always maintaining that maddening eye contact. He wasn’t sure which was going to send him over the edge first: her knowing touch, or those light brown eyes that were boring into him with an unspoken demand for his surrender. He saw her smile widen as he finally broke his forced silence with a gasp of pleasure.

“Hermione,” he pleaded helplessly.

“Shhhh.” She kept up the stimulation, now stroking him at full speed, putting the amount of pressure she knew he loved on his entire length with her hand and fingers. Harry groaned then, a low throaty groan, and she knew he was hers. She never looked away as he gave in soon thereafter with a guttural moan, spending himself in her grip; and she didn’t stop her motion until he sagged back against the rear of the tub, panting for breath.

“That was……..” he managed to get out before he was interrupted.

“Go into the bedroom and wait for me. I’ll be in shortly. And don’t put your clothes back on honey.” He goggled wordlessly at her, and she smiled at him once more before turning and leaving the bathroom.

He dried himself off quickly, mind still in a daze over what had just happened, and half-staggered into their bedroom. The candles were present there too, casting everything in a muted golden light. The sheets had been turned down on the bed, and a subtle but pleasant scent permeated the air, reminiscent of floral gardens and sunny orchards. Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and waited, for the first time in a long time slightly nervous in his own bedroom.

A slight movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned to see Hermione in the doorway. What little breath remained to him felt like it was forcibly removed as he took in the sight of her. His wife had always been a pretty woman, if not what most would consider beautiful – but she was that and more to him. She had let her hair grow out so that it spilled down to the small of her back, long chestnut tresses that she had finally learned to tame over the years. The soft brown eyes that he had just gotten so lost in were full of a joy for life, a joy that only someone who had come close to death could have. She was still slender, but maturity had given her a woman’s hips, and a woman’s breasts. She was tall, if not quite as tall as him, with long shapely legs. In short, she was breathtaking. And she was his.

Harry drank in the sight of her as she stood motionless in the doorway. He admired her pale skin, glowing softly in the candlelight. Hermione was dressed in a mostly translucent red bra and matching panty, the bold color serving to set off her light skin dramatically. For all he could see of her, she may as well have been nude. He felt his mouth go dry with desire. The only makeup she had on was red lipstick, the same shade as the lingerie. She never wore lipstick, and Harry wondered that she did so now. Then again, he thought, she never wore anything like what she had on at that moment, either. His wasn’t surprised when he felt himself respond to her again, feeling himself slowly grow hard just from the sight of her.

She lingered in the doorway, not moving. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw her eyes move to his lap as he responded to the sight of her. When he was fully erect, she made her way across the soft carpet to the foot of the bed where he sat. She leaned forward and placed the softest of kisses on his lips, full of the promise of pleasure yet to come. Her lips moved quickly from his lips to his neck, but did not linger as they moved to his collarbone, chest, and stomach in quick succession.

There was a brief pause when she made it down between his thighs. By now he was aching with need. As if sensing it, Hermione took him gently into her mouth. Her hair fell all around him, and the feel of the silken strands on his thighs as she moved threatened to drive him mad. His hands fisted the bed sheets as her head bobbed slowly up and down his length. One small hand reached down and gently cupped him as she pleasured him, and soon the quiet of the room with replaced with Harry’s soft cries of pleasure.

Lost in a mounting tide of excitement, eyes screwed tightly shut, Harry was startled when she suddenly removed her mouth from him, free hand grasping his manhood firmly as her other hand continued to gently cup and caress the rest of him. His eyes flew open, and he saw her looking up at him through the light veil of her hair, chocolate brown eyes full of passion.

“Harry, look at me. I want you to watch me. I want you to watch me do this to you. I want to watch you while I do this to you. I want to see the look on your face, in your eyes, when I make you come.” She grinned wickedly as he looked at her in shock. Reaching up, she tied her long hair back so he could see her face. This couldn’t be Hermione. She didn’t talk like that. He felt himself stiffen even more, if that were possible, as her words sank in and her mouth engulfed him again, bright red lips sliding along his length. She took more than half of him in with each downward stroke, moving back up to the crown and swirling her tongue around it before repeating the movement.

His green eyes were blazing as he watched her. Waves of pleasure radiated through his body as she brought him closer and closer to the edge. He couldn’t believe this was happening – oh, she had certainly done this before, but never with this desperation, this passion. She wasn’t teasing, wasn’t trying to make him last as long as possible. Her eyes weren’t twinkling with amusement. Instead they bored into him, demanding, pleading, and insisting that he succumb to her. Her hand began to stroke him, marking a counterpoint to her mouth descending, releasing. She moaned deep in her throat, letting him know she was enjoying this as much as he, was as excited as he was. He fought with every ounce of strength he had to last, to make it go on as long as possible.

Hermione had had enough of his willpower. Letting him slip out of her mouth once more, she gave him her naughtiest smile as her hand continued to pump his full length.

“Don’t fight me love. You know you want to………come for me.” Her lips closed around him again as he let out a strangled groan.

“’Mione, God!!!!” She felt him tense as he finally reached the peak, and she didn’t stop until he was done. Spent, Harry lay back on the bed, gasping in great breaths of air as the room spun around him.

When she was convinced he was truly finished, Hermione finally released his softening manhood, placing a kiss on the head. Standing up, she slowly inched her way up the bed until she was face to face with him. The look in his eyes was one of passion, amazement, and love.

“That was incredible.” She gave him a smoky smile, and pressed her lips to his.

“We’re not done yet.”

“Mione, I’ve already……twice…….I don’t know if I……”

“Let me take care of that.” She pulled his face to hers, and gave him a soul-shattering kiss. Her tongue playfully parted his lips, and he lightly teased it with his own. The minutes passed, and the couple kissed, intimate kisses, not quite wanton but full of heat. Harry was sure his lips would be bruised after this, but he didn’t care -- all he cared about was Hermione, and the feel of her mouth on his. It was cathartic. Rapturous. They broke apart at last, breathing heavily, each one smiling at the other.

Hermione quickly stood and slipped out of her lingerie, leaving her naked before him at last. He took in her body, her rounded hips and the breasts that filled his hands so perfectly, as if they were molded for him. Her small brown nipples looked painfully erect, and he wanted nothing more than to feel them between his lips, to lavish them with his tongue.

When she was back in his arms, he moved his lips to her neck, gently kissing and nibbling as she trembled in his arms. He moved to the spot right at the base of her throat that he knew drove her wild and lightly brushed his lips against her skin. She responded with a soft whimper. Harry’s lips moved to the valley between her breasts, kissing a soft trail as he went. Finally he took first one then the other nipple in his mouth, gently suckling and licking as she moaned his name.

Harry was soon ready again, and Hermione could feel him pressed against her thigh. She could wait no more.

“I need you in me. NOW.” She rolled him over, straddling his hips; and with one smooth motion, she hilted him inside her.

“Sweet spirits.” She was warmth, and wetness. He could feel her all around him, and she could feel him pulsing within her as she sat still, just looking at him.

Slowly she began to move. Her hips rocked gently back and forth as they made love, and she stopped him when he made to turn her over and take the lead. Shaking her head with a smile, Hermione continued to raise and lower herself on him, her moans of pleasure ringing in the stillness of the room.

Harry found himself in awe of the woman sharing this with him. A light sheen of sweat made her skin glisten as she moved. Her hair had come unbound, and it moved with a life of its own as her hips rocked faster, higher, driving him more deeply within her. She was so beautiful. He couldn’t believe he was here with her. After so many years of solitude, so much heartache, she was the piece of his life that had always been missing. And now they were one.

The moans grew louder as Hermione sensed her climax approaching. She was frantic in her motions, the feel of Harry driving her to force him deeper, harder within her. With a great shuddering cry, she left him buried in her as her whole body shook. His own cry, and the spreading warmth she could feel, told her he had reached the top with her.

Not much later, the young couple was snuggled in the blankets of their bed, Harry’s arms around Hermione and her head pillowed in the crook of his arm. Neither had spoken, as if sensing that this moment was particularly poignant, fragile. Both seemed content to bask in the glow of the candles, and of their love for each other. Harry found himself thinking of the many faces of the woman he loved that she had let him see tonight. From caring companion to fiery seductress to gentle lover, they were all her. His wife was an amazing woman. He wondered if he would ever be worthy of the unconditional love she gave to him every day.

She stirred against him at last. “I heard about Malfoy…….”

“It’s ok. It doesn’t matter. We’ll get him. Today has been one of the best days of my life.” He kissed her tenderly, lips lingering on her own. “Thank you honey. I love you.”

“I love you too sweetie.” She looked over her shoulder, where a small desk calendar read July 31^st, 2001. “Happy Birthday Harry.”

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Author’s Note: This was written in one sitting, after the idea just blasted its way into my head and refused to go away. I blame certain chat members at portkey for brainwashing me into thinking H/Hr smut is a healthy thing. You know who you are. Finally, I want to apologize to Sarahkitty, who was supposed to Beta this for me – I didn’t get a chance to get it to her before the weekend hit. Forgive me Sarah, I promise you’ll get Chap 5 of NLA soon.