Alright, the gloves are coming off - this is so explicit, it made me turn red as I was writing it…hope you do too (but not from embarrassment, hint hint) and enjoy! ;)
Disclaimer: JK - HP, plot is mine.
Chapter II: A Strike Upon the Hour
Hermione could not concentrate on her work the following morning. The reports she was assigned to complete by midday, lay untouched by her coffee cup at the corner of the desk. The note consumed her mind; it was crumpled in her hand, and she counted the minutes until the end of the day. Alas, the clock only showed ten in the morning…
She picked up a pen and the first report from the pile.
The intruder was spotted…Hermione began to write, but nothing further came to her.
Taking a deep breath, she renewed her effort.
…was spotted standing…it was no good.
Hermione dropped the pen and smoothed the crumpled note out on the desk.
Love,
Harry
Her heart skipped yet another beat as she read those words.
"How's it going, Granger?" came a voice from the doorway, startling her rather badly.
Her boss still addressed her by her maiden name, rather than the acquired familial name of Weasley.
"Oh, it's going, Mr. Toll, it's going," she replied mechanically.
"That's what I like to hear," he replied, and went off down the corridor.
Hermione took one more look at the note, and let off a frustrated breath. She turned her scant attention to the reports once again, deciding to try another one.
The arrested was charged with breaking and entering, and will be detained until…
Where was Harry requesting they meet? The thought suddenly shot through her head. She decided to try his office after work, and if he was not there…no wait, he had to be there. Harry would never miss work. He was an Auror, after all.
The author need not mention the foray of doubts racing through Hermione's mind currently. In another vain effort to calm down, she picked up the third report of the endless stack, and began to hurriedly copy the words from a memo on the dotted line.
Presented with a fair trial, and sentenced to twenty years for the sexual assault of a defenceless witch…
A large inkblot appeared on the page, as the pen came to a sudden halt and was depressed unexpectedly strongly against the parchment.
No, this was the last thought Hermione needed at the moment, but she was rendered powerless to stop it - again. The suggestive six-letter word her hand had scribbled hastily moments before it inexplicably became the only word that petrified her attention.
All she had imagined about a secret rendez-vous with Harry, leading a hush-hush affair behind Ron's back, and the possibilities of an encounter with him in a bedroom…
Her breath quickened, and she grasped the armrests of her chair tightly. What was wrong with her? The typically flawless thought process that was her mind was now nothing more than deadweight in her head.
Her eyes met the clock. Two-thirty. How did she spend hours in anticipation? Ah, well, time flew when you were worried sick out of your mind and imagined doing unholy things to your best friend…behind your other best friend's back, who also happened to be your husband. And Ginny? How would she take all of this? Hermione did not spend much time giving the redhead an excessive amount of concern - the matter was not of great importance.
Three o'clock.
The reports were driven entirely out of her head. She was growing more anxious by the second.
Mr. Toll's voice suddenly echoed through the hall, magically magnified.
"There has been a fire on the fourth floor, and the damage is extensive. Please evacuate the premises immediately!" he said.
Uncomprehending for a full minute, Hermione finally realized what her boss' words meant.
"Oh! I have to go!"
She picked up her bag and dashed out of the door, towards Harry's office, two floors above.
Panting, out of breath, and sweating, she skidded to a halt in front of a mahogany door, with her heart's name engraved on a bronze plaque that sported a lion's head on either end.
The second hand ticked. Her eyes bounced between her wristwatch and the door handle. At last, she heard shuffling footsteps in the cabinet. They became louder, as the person inside approached.
The handle turned and her breath hitched. Hermione watched, as the mahogany door swung open and Harry came out.
"Hermione! Hey," he greeted her with a sudden smile. "You startled me. Why are you so disheveled?"
"Oh, hello, Harry," she stammered a reply. "Me…it doesn't matter. A bunch of tedious reports got to me. I'm glad to see you though," she said, looking for signs of recognition in Harry.
"Well, I'm happy to see you too," he replied. "Want to go out tonight? I hope you received my note…"
"Yes!" she practically shouted. "I mean, yes," Hermione amended herself in a calmer voice. Her heart was still throbbing though - she was amazed Harry could not see it pulsate.
"Then, let's go," he said, and touching her lower back, he led her in the direction of the stairs.
The duo ended up on a muggle street of London, full of quaint cafes, with tables laid out on the sidewalks and where people were sitting in the cool shade of the umbrellas, talking over a cup of excellent coffee. In fact, the air did carry a smell of that excellent coffee…
Harry and Hermione sat down at a table, positioned discreetly from the road and the passing throngs of people, which guaranteed them an adequate sense of privacy.
The waitress eventually came, and they placed their order. She went away to fetch the cups of cappuccino, and in the meanwhile, the two unhappy friends began talking.
The moment Hermione opened her mouth, she felt as if a great wall was beginning to crumble within her.
"I can't go on, Harry," she said. "It's been too long."
"What can't you go on about, Hermione?"
"Ron - he is making me miserable. He is a good person, don't get me wrong; only, he does not seem to know me. He isn't sensitive to me as you are - hell, you know me better than he does. Days go by when he's away at Quidditch games and camps, and every time greater amounts of time pass between the times I see him," she ended on a high note, and smacked Harry upside the head when his lips had formed in a smile on her last words.
She smacked him upside the head. "Why are you laughing!"
"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, rubbing the spot where Hermione's hand had made contact. "I just find it slightly ironic that Ron would place Quidditch above you. He should be more considerate."
"Exactly! And why isn't he?" Hermione fumed.
"Sounds to me, he barely spends time with you," Harry replied thoughtfully, leaning forward and tracing his chin with his fingers, as most thinkers would do when they were preoccupied by a particularly challenging thought.
"Exactly!" she said again. "And I want to part ways with him. I've long realized that Ron and I will be best friends, but now I'm positive that our relationship cannot progress past that."
"So? What will you do?" Harry asked.
"I don't know," Hermione replied dejectedly. "I'll think of something; but one fact is for certain - I want out."
"I know," Harry said.
She did not question him about his last remark. "And what about you?" Hermione said.
"What about me?" he echoed her question.
"Ginny," she said crossly.
"Ah, her," Harry said. "Well…" he started, but stopped, and looked at his feet.
"Hm, same story, is it?" Hermione said softly.
"Kind of," he replied. "She is always away, after she landed a job with Witch Glamour. Interviews with high-profile people, trips to exotic locations - it's been two weeks since I saw her last," he replied with a bitter smile. "I don't think she's happy with me either."
For an unfathomable reason, Hermione immediately felt better; Harry's situation was analogous to her own.
It was a mark of the strength of their friendship that no further words needed to be exchanged. Neither Harry, nor Hermione, offered advice to each other about modifying their respective marriages to be more fulfilling. A silent understanding seemed to have been reached, as they slowly sipped the delicious coffee.
Finally, Harry put his cup down and stretched his back, simultaneously looking around for the waitress. The evening was beginning to make its presence more prominent, with stars becoming more visible in the sky, and people already leaving. The sun had nearly set too.
"Hmm, we've been here for hours," he remarked. "Ready to go?"
"Mm?" Hermione snapped out of her reverie. "Yes, certainly."
"Well then, m'lady, let us go," Harry stood up and offered Hermione a hand in a comically courteous bow.
She took his arm and he left a galleon on the table.
**
They were flying up in the dark sky, and Hermione hung tight to Harry. The Firebolt had accelerated to its highest possible speed, and fear gripped at her heart, when Harry changed the height abruptly or performed an unexpected loop in the air. Around them, the stars shone against the contrasting dark sky and provided a feeble light. The moon, however, was especially bright tonight.
He had convinced her to fly to a remote beach on a lake, not far away from the outskirts of London. Hermione was not informed of the particular details around Harry's idea, because he had insisted on surprising her.
In time, and to Hermione's immense relief, the exhilarating ride concluded, as the broom landed silently and flawlessly on a sandy beach. It felt very fine and yielding under her feet. She could hear the waves washing gently ashore; the moon and stars reflected in the near smooth surface of the lake. A cool breeze was blowing, making Hermione shiver slightly.
Both travelers dismounted. Harry carried the Firebolt away from the water and placed it further away in the sand, before walking back to Hermione.
Harry embraced her tightly. "I missed you," he breathed in her ear.
Goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cool breeze traveled over Hermione when she felt his breath against her neck.
"Believe me, I missed you too," she whispered back.
He responded with a slight kiss against her lips. Hermione reacted, intensifying the contact between their lips further. She loved the feeling, and her full being craved for more…
Soon tongues clashed and roamed in a battle for dominance. The passion grew, with each passing second…
They suddenly parted. For a full moment, Harry looked in Hermione's eyes. He saw a burning desire - a raw desire even; it was powerful and drew him in effortlessly. Her eyes were intoxicating…powerless to resist, Harry bent his head back down and his lips, of their own accord, went to work along Hermione's jaw and neck, dipping lower and lower ever so slowly…
The trails of fire enveloped her completely; time was slowed to an insignificant crawl - Hermione felt every move, every ministration - she was loose, and could not will even her fingers to move; like a rag doll, her body and being were entirely Harry's tonight. Little did she know, that dedication was mutual…
A hand slid under her shirt. The weak impulse of a thought that Ron did not deserve this arose in the depths of her mind, but was immediately extinguished when the hand in question suddenly cupped her breast and an enticing, rhythmic, massage began that only caused her to revel in delicious anticipation. Hermione could feel instinct slowly beginning to dominate her…
Deftly, the shirt was raised above her head, and carelessly thrown aside. All the while peppering her with kisses, Harry ensured the same fate for her bra. Unclasped and taken off rather quickly, it joined the shirt seconds later. One could say the situation was becoming more heated by the minute.
And it was. His left hand was still stroking her breast, and the lips she had dreamt day and night were currently enticing the erect nipple of her other breast, while another stray hand was migrating further south…the combined effect was making her involuntarily elicit moans of extreme satisfaction…
The night was cool, but she was feeling hot - hot enough to melt, that is. Absorbed in the electrifying sensation coursing through her body, Hermione had no inkling when she had became fully naked, but was suddenly keenly aware of the fact that Harry's head was now at her center and doing unspeakable things with his tongue…yes, Hermione felt her whole being was on fire -this magical night had previously only existed in her dreams…
**
Eloquently put, she was driving him crazy. Crazy to the point of insanity; his head was full of one word, one person - Hermione. The ministrations that were by now exciting her extremely were not of his conscious; as if his body knew what to do, but it felt right, complete and true - nothing of the sort had happened with Ginny. She never succeeded in making him feel scared, intrigued, excited and hesitant all at once, as he was now…Hermione, she was…amazing. Even the word did terrible injustice to the way he was feeling right at the moment.
And then it happened. One smooth thrust, and Hermione was above and beyond; pleasure, comparable to nothing else. Fulfilled - at last, in the fullest sense. Harry's mind was non-existent, as instinct was the only guide to him now. Rhythmic repetitions intensified the feeling, as both came closer and closer, wishing to be one…
A scream tore from her throat as she reached her climax - intense, hot and tingling, her entire body shaking with the thrills coursing through her, wave after wave…
Harry collapsed against her, breathing heavily, sweat dripping from his forehead; Hermione closed her arms around him, tightly, as if she was afraid he would melt away through her fingers. Really, she was ensuring this was not a dream, but reality…
**
A cricket chirped from within the trees. Passions had calmed, as Harry and Hermione lay side by side, watching the stars up in the night sky.
"You can really see them well here," Harry said.
"It's beautiful," she replied quietly.
"I know."
"D'you think we should be going?" Hermione asked.
Harry's gaze fell. "Unfortunately."
He stood up to retrieve the Firebolt. Hermione, in the meanwhile, continued to sit at the beach, waiting for him to return. She was growing sadder by the second.
Several minutes later, Harry did return with the Firebolt in hand.
"Let's go," he said, "or I'll never leave."
Without further hesitation, Harry mounted the broom, and Hermione climbed behind him. Embracing him tightly for reasons other than her fear of heights, she felt Harry kick off the ground, and they shot upwards in the night sky.
Because after tonight, life would drag them back down, and flying away would not be easy.
A/N Chapter Two, done at last! Hope you liked it, and as always, a review is welcome.
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