Whole Again by T.C. Geralds Rating: NC17 Genres: Angst, Romance Relationships: Harry & Hermione Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4 Published: 28/07/2003 Last Updated: 28/07/2003 Status: Completed What would you do to reclaim the one you love? 1. No Longer Alone ------------------ Disclaimer/Warning: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. I may write about her creations, but I don’t make any money off of them. This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual acts, but is not (I hope) just mindless smut. If you are offended by NC-17 rated material, or are looking for a PWP piece, I gently urge you to look elsewhere. Enjoy! @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ June 23, 2005 - 10:04 PM @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ It was raining. One of the worst thunderstorms in recent memory was battering London and its surrounding suburbs, drenching the city in sheets of rain driven forcefully by gusting winds. Lightning split the sky every several seconds, illuminating the otherwise murky night with brilliant light. The poor fools stuck outdoors by necessity quickly went about their business, and were glad to finally get indoors and dry off. The storm went unnoticed by the lone occupant of a small flat not too far from the center of the city. Although the sound of rain hitting the windows was loud in the room he currently knelt in, Harry Potter didn’t hear it at all. He was much too engrossed in what sat in front of him, bubbling softly. While most of the city’s inhabitants were either getting ready for bed or doing their best to stay out of the worst of the storm, he sat motionless in front of the large cauldron he had been working with almost continuously for the last two weeks. Tonight was the night. He had worked diligently over the last fourteen days, making no mistakes. He was used to the routine by now – having done the very same thing every year for the past seven years. The potion was almost ready. How ironic he thought, as he always did, that necessity had forced him to become one of the world’s foremost alchemists. Snape would be furious, were he still alive. Harry allowed himself a small mocking grin at the thought. The potion was only part of the amazingly difficult enchantment he was going to attempt, however. He had studied potions, spell craft, enchantments and mental focusing for years to be able to cast the spell he was about to. Yes, years – three years in fact. Three years of living in a library twenty hours a day, pouring over texts and magical theory, only to relive the day over again with the help of a time-turner. McGonagall wasn’t going to give it to him when he asked………but he had convinced her after he explained what he needed it for and what he would use it for. After all, he thought bitterly, the world owed the boy who lived a few favors. As a result of all his study, Harry was now the most learned wizard on the planet in his particular field. He needed all his knowledge tonight. The spell he was going to cast was one of his own creations, and would require every ounce of magical power he possessed. Soon, he thought. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ June 23, 2005 – 11:59 PM @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ The potion sparkled in its specialized crystal vial, a blood red liquid that smelled of swamps, and decay, and the mold that grows in dark places. Taking a ceremonial knife made of precious jade, Harry nicked the ring finger of his left hand. He held the bleeding digit over the vial, and watched as a single drop of his blood fell into it. The potion swirled madly, finally settling once its color had darkened to a black the shade of pitch. Harry downed the contents quickly, and immediately felt it take effect. Searing pain ripped through his body, making him cry out in agony. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath, as part of his own life force was ripped from him permanently to fuel the spell he was weaving. A dull shapeless shadow appeared, floating in the air in front of him; a part of his own spirit willingly sacrificed. A soft hum reverberated through the room, accompanied by a heaviness in the air. The feel of power and magic all around the young wizard was staggering, the result of charms and spells that had been meticulously laid down all day in preparation for this moment. All was in readiness at last. Harry struggled to his feet as the large grandfather clock in the room struck the first chord of midnight. His hands were shaking violently, though not in fear or pain. The excitement flowing through his veins was like a drug, threatening to consume him with its intensity. It was time. Raising his wand, Harry made the final gesture for the enchantment, focusing all of his will on the delicate chain of spells that were in place. An aura of pale, sickly light enveloped him. Harry spoke forcefully, addressing the shade in front of him: “Evocoare Demorior Mori.” A roaring wind rose in the upstairs flat, and the spectral shape in front of him vanished as the room was blanketed in an impenetrable darkness. After a brief moment the wind finally calmed, and as the clock struck the twelfth cord, light returned to the room. Outside, unnoticed, the storm had abated, leaving the city streets quiet and still. In Harry’s flat, two people stood facing each other, both amazingly alive………for now. She was almost exactly as he remembered her. She was older now – they had both aged a year since he had seen her last. But it was still Hermione. She grew more beautiful each year he saw her, the young woman he had loved for so long becoming the radiant beauty now before him. Long golden-brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, falling to her waist. Her soft brown eyes hadn’t changed – they still tormented his dreams. She was unclad, and Harry took in the rest of her body almost mechanically, too focused on her eyes to think of aught else. Those eyes looked directly at him, through him, full of love and sadness……..and regret. “Oh my love – you must stop this. It can come to no good end. Why do you torment yourself so? Let me go Harry. Let yourself be free. Live again.” “How can I live without you?” he choked. “You are my life, now and always. How could fate have been so cruel to us? Why did you have to die?” @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ June 22, 1998 – 4:42 PM @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ “I can’t believe it’s almost over,” Harry said. “Hogworts has been my home for seven years, and now that we’re almost done I just can’t grasp it.” A wistful smile crossed his face. “I guess I’ll always think of it as home, in a sense. It certainly has been a lifeline for me.” He looked askance at the pretty young witch sitting along the water’s edge near him. “Hermione? You’re awfully quiet. What are you thinking?” “Just how much things change,” she replied. She continued to look out over the water of the lake, the tone of her voice leading Harry to believe her mind was miles away. “I still remember how happy I was when I found out I was a witch. Growing up, all I remember was constantly feeling out of place. Everyone just thought I was an annoyingly smart little girl, too wise and mature for her own good. When I found out, it was like......being born again. Hogworts helped me feel like I belonged in the world.” Her eyes came to rest on his, her daydreaming at an end. “I will always be grateful for that.” Harry grinned then, and she could see the boy of eleven in his eyes. She discreetly looked away, knowing from long experience that when she looked at him too closely, looked at him like she wanted to during moments like these; the awkwardness would spring up again. She hated it, hated not being totally honest with him. She knew that he was aware of how she felt about him, and she was almost certain he returned her feelings. Things had been this way for well over a year now – half glances, a brushing of hands, chaste kisses goodnight. But neither of them had acted. There were…..complications. And it wasn’t just Ron. The strength of the emotions themselves scared both of them. They each held their feelings for the other in check, afraid of what might happen if they were ever expressed. “We’d better get inside. If we’re not there to help decorate the great hall for the celebration tonight, we’ll catch hell.” She watched as the merriment left his eyes, being replaced by the subtle sadness that always accompanied these moments. Moments where they got too close, where the careful façade each used as a defense was threatened. The melancholy swept across his face quickly, gone in an instant -- it was doubtful anyone but she would have even noticed it. He stood quickly, reaching down to help her up from the soft grass. “Even after all these years of Ron and I corrupting you,” he teased, “you’re still worried about being late and getting into trouble. I somehow doubt they’ll give the head girl detention if she’s a little late in joining the decorating committee, especially considering that it’s the last week of school and she has the highest academic scores in the history of the school.” The boyish grin was back. “Still……I suppose you could have a point. If we wait too long, who knows what Ron will see fit to decorate the great hall with. Race you!” Harry took off at top speed, laughing loudly at the look of surprise on Hermione’s face. “Oh, you are an insufferable cheater Harry Potter!” She raced after him, her own laughter ringing across the Hogworts grounds. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ June 24, 2005 – 12:02 AM @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ He struggled to stay in control of himself as memories of that wonderful day surged powerfully through him. He could still see her in his mind’s eye as she was back then: young, beautiful, full of life. She was looking at him still, that sorrowful gaze that was always there when she first appeared, when he called her back from the place that had stolen her from him. “You have to stop this Harry. Every time you cast the enchantment, part of your own life force is lost. I can sense how weak you’re becoming. What you are doing isn’t natural! It goes against nature, my love…..and it is killing you. I couldn’t bear to think that you would kill yourself just to get a few hours with me back.” She stepped forward, her pale slender hand reaching up to lightly caress his face. He shivered at the contact, barely in control. “I can see you, you know. I see what you’ve become. Every waking moment you’re devising revisions to the spell. You want to make the enchantment last longer. I know you ultimately want it to bring me back permanently. The only time you’re not working on it is when you have to write and turn in your reports to get research funding. All your friends, Harry – OUR friends – you’ve let them slip away. Even Ron has given up on your ever getting over this. You don’t need to live in solitude. Please, I beg you……say goodbye to me tonight, and let me go.” Hermione pulled him to her, holding him close as he wept. When the storm of weeping had passed, he gathered her in his arms. Eyes bright with tears, Harry gently picked her up and carried her to his bed. He laid her on the mattress gently, and she drew him down beside her. As he joined her on the sheets, his mind saw another place, another time……. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ June 22, 1998 – 9:21 PM @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Lavender and the rest of the decoration committee had really outdone themselves. The great hall of Hogworts was bedecked with festive colors. Streamers and moving decorations adorned the walls and ceiling. A large banner hung behind the head table, ‘Congratulations class of ‘98’ written boldly across it in bright lettering. The entire seventh year class was present along with their dates, formally attired for the occasion. Music, in a wide variety, was overseen by none other than Ronald Weasley himself. He had proudly come stag to the ball, one of few who had. There were a variety of opinions concerning why he had not brought a date – although few knew the truth of his breakup with Lavender. The former couple was keeping it a secret until they were gone from the school. Most assumed they were merely in the middle of a spat, and had thus come separately to the dance. Harry and Hermione had come together, agreeing it would be better to go as friends and not experience any of the pressures of being single at the dance. This tactic had failed miserably of course. Each of them was asked to dance by most of the members of the opposite sex at the party over the course of the evening. Many of the women flirted with Harry, hoping to catch his notice – it was well known he had rarely dated after Cho Chang and was currently single, making him the most eligible bachelor in the class. They might as well have not been in the room with him for all the attention he gave them. She looked radiant tonight. She had picked a slightly above knee-length black dress, strapless, which showed a generous expanse of the smooth skin of her back, and showcased a pair of legs that were the envy of the female student body. Her hair, usually the bushy mess she lamented over daily, was straight but for the curled ends, and it hung just past her shoulders. Every male in the room wanted to be Harry at one point of the night, usually when he was slowly twirling Hermione about the dance floor. Many of them tried their best to dazzle her with witty conversation and compliments, but their words fell on deaf ears. She only had eyes for one person. As the evening wound down, Harry and Hermione finally got a rest from dancing. He poured them both some punch, and sat next to her along one of the walls, watching their classmates celebrate the end of their tenure at school. Both of them sat quietly, not speaking, silently enjoying the other’s company as they had done on so many nights before this. It was amazing how they could be content just being together. Lethargy seemed to seep into both of them, time slowing down as one more precious memory was crystallized between them. Ron’s voice came booming over a sudden lapse in the music. “Ok guys and girls, we’re coming up on the end of the night. There are just a few more slow dances to go, so grab your partner and enjoy the rest of the evening!” Smiling, Harry stood and held out an arm to Hermione with mock formalness. “Dance?” He was treated to one of her gorgeous smiles. “I’d love to.” A small laugh escaped her lips as she was led out to the floor. Music began to play once more, and Harry took her in his arms, holding her close as they began to move. It was an older song in a minor key, and the two teenagers let it wash over them as they danced. *‘All my instincts, they return And the grand facade, so soon will burn Without a noise, without my pride I reach out from the inside In your eyes The light the heat In your eyes I am complete In your eyes I see the doorway to a thousand churches In your eyes The resolution of all the fruitless searches In your eyes I see the light and the heat In your eyes Oh, I want to be that complete I want to touch the light The heat I see in your eyes.’* Time seemed to stop entirely as he held Hermione in his arms. During the earlier dances, he had been careful to keep some distance between their bodies, always thinking about being careful; about avoiding the awkwardness. He found as the song continued that he was holding her more tightly, his arms around her waist and his forehead touching hers. When had he gotten so close to her? Her eyes were staring into his, and for once she wasn’t hiding her feelings from him. They were written plainly for him to see, longing and hope and fear that this moment would soon become like all the others. Unheard by either of them, the song continued. *‘Love, I don't like to see so much pain So much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away.’* They had stopped dancing. Harry’s hand made its way slowly up her face, fingers coming to rest lightly on her cheek. Her eyes widened as he leaned in, lips coming slowly closer to hers. Hermione’s breathing quickened, and she let her eyes close as she felt his soft breath on her skin. “Hey mate, mind if I cut in?” A strong slap on the back almost made Harry fall forward. Shaking his head as if coming out of a trance, he turned around to see a beaming Ron Weasley standing behind him, trademark crooked grin on his freckled face. Staring stupidly, Harry opened his mouth to speak but no words came out at first. Mentally slapping himself, he was finally about to respond when he noticed the look on Ron’s face. “What‘s wrong with Hermione?” Harry quickly turned at Ron’s words to see the object of the question fleeing from the great hall amidst the stares of many of their classmates. He didn’t bother to reply to his flabbergasted friend as he took off at full speed, praying he hadn’t done irreparable harm. He knew where to find her. She always came here when she was sad or needed to think. It had unofficially become ‘her’ place, although they never referred to it as that of course. He came up quietly behind her, watching as she dipped her now bare feet in the water. The gentle sound of her crying was loud in the otherwise quiet setting. She knew he was there, of course. She always knew somehow when he was near. She carefully picked her feet up out of the water and stood to face him, discreetly wiping at her damp eyes. “Hi Harry. Wasn’t that a great party? The decorations were so beautiful, and Ron’s music wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Did you see it when Dean tried to spike the punch? McGonagall was all over him!” A painfully forced smile twisted her face as she regarded him. Something broke inside him as he watched Hermione trying to recover. The moonlight showed clearly where tears had recently made their way down her face, silver trails a sharp contrast to her light skin. A stunning clarity came over him as he looked at her and realized he was the cause of all her pain. The tide of feeling he had learned to keep in check crashed over him in a wave, and with it a deep-seated panic. This is what he had been afraid of for years; ever since he had first realized what it was he felt for Hermione. He was scared of what would happen if he surrendered to it at last. His breathing quickened; his fists clenched at his sides as he raged against his own caution, his own emotional defenses. Harry reached deep within himself, beyond all of his past misery, his fears, and his doubts. He would run no more, complications be damned. “Don’t.” It came out loud, a desperate plea. She looked at him in surprise, having figured they were now on safe ground again thanks to her. Emotion flooded her face: uncertainty, anxiety, and something he couldn’t place. “Harry?” She stood still, the evening breeze lightly blowing her hair out behind her. He walked towards her, and she felt fear rise up within her at the look in his eyes. Usually a gentle green, they burned now with an emerald fire that threatened to take her breath away. Involuntarily she backed away, soon feeling herself pressed against one of the willows that ringed the perimeter of the lake. Her breath came in hurried bursts as he continued his advance, stopping a few scant steps from her. “Don’t. I am tired of denying my feelings. Tired of being afraid of how I feel about you. I’m tired of seeing the hurt in your eyes, and feeling guilty that I want to be more than your friend. I’m not going to pretend any more.” He gathered his courage and held out his hand to her. “I love you Hermione.” She shook her head frantically in response. “No. Don’t say that.” The tears came again, gently spilling down her cheeks. This time she let them fall unchecked. Harry kept looking into her eyes, and stepped closer. He could reach forward and touch her if he wanted. His voice steadied, became more confident. “I love you.” “Don’t say that again,” she whispered. He finally reached out, hand touching the willow’s base near her head, leaning in close to her. His face was inches from hers, eyes threatening to consume her in their fire. Both of them were breathing heavily, almost gasping in the night air. “I love you Hermione.” “No!” she struck him across the face, the slap sounding overloud in the silence. His head snapped to the side, but his face registered no pain when he turned to stare at her once more. This was real, the stare promised. There was no more need of defenses. She could see the truth in his eyes; feel the light in them burning her with its heat. Terror and elation swept through her as she surrendered at last to the feelings that had been repressed for so long. With a loud cry, Hermione fell into Harry’s arms; the wish she had never dared to hope might come true being realized at last. “I love you,” she breathed in his ear. “I’ve always loved you.” Their lips met for the first time in a real kiss, and both Harry and Hermione surrendered to the emotions sweeping through them. She let out a small moan as he crushed his lips to hers, his arms tightening about her. He tasted her, tongue parting her lips and gently exploring her mouth. He kissed her neck, her eyes, her face, as her hands buried themselves in his hair. He kissed her the way he had dreamed of a thousand times. His want of her was a physical ache denied for too long, and it was with some effort that he forced himself to break apart from her. The night air felt too cool on his flushed skin. “Hermione……….” “Let’s go to my room – now. God I need you Harry.” Her voice broke. “I’ve needed you for so long.” He took her hand, and they made their way back to the castle. The party was almost over, and the young couple hurried to Gryffindor tower and up the stairs to the head girl’s dorm. As soon as the door was closed and locked with the most powerful charm Hermione knew, Harry gently picked her up and laid her down on the bed. She smiled up at him, hair splayed about her across the pillows. “I can’t believe this is happening.” “I only wish it had happened sooner. I’m a coward Hermione.” “You don’t know how to be a coward Harry. We both know we’ve only stayed apart because we wanted to spare --" His finger on her lips silenced her. “Not now. We can deal with that later.” He smiled at her, picking up her hand and placing a gentle kiss on the fingers. “Right now, for once, let things be only about us.” She nodded wordlessly. Standing up, she turned away from him and glanced back over her shoulder. “Unzip me?” With shaking hands, the boy who lived slowly parted the zipper of Hermione’s dress. She stepped out of it quickly and spun to face him, a nervous smile on her face. She was wearing a black bra and panties, and right then she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She reached out and undid the buttons on his shirt, drawing it off his shoulders to join the dress on the floor. His pants soon followed. His arms went around her, and soon his lips were on hers once more, gentle and tentative. His hands caressed her back as they kissed, their bodies pressed tightly together. He needed to see all of her. His fingers fumbled with the clasp of the bra, and he flushed as his first few attempts failed miserably. He was mortified at first as she pulled away laughing, but quickly joined in with his own laughter after a moment. She grinned at him as she unhooked the clasps, slowly drawing the straps over her shoulders. With a final shrug, it joined the growing pile of clothing on the floor. Her arms dropped to her sides shyly, and she heard his intake of breath. She was magnificent. Hooking his thumbs in her final piece of clothing, he slid the panties down her legs and off. Standing, he drank in the sight of her naked before him. Her skin was lightly tanned from the sun. Her hair framed her beautiful face perfectly, and her brown eyes were shining in the light of the room. Her breasts were topped with light pink nipples, already stiff with her excitement. Her legs were long and sleek, and the sight of the mound between them made him swallow hard. God, she was beautiful. “Your turn,” she said softly. She reached for his boxers and drew them off quickly. He was no longer the gangly boy he once had been, that was for certain. He was leanly muscled, and she could feel the definition in his chest as she ran her hands over it. His eyes were positively aglow with passion, and his unruly hair was the same as ever. She could sense his excitement, and see the visible proof of it between his legs, where he was fully erect. Harry quickly drew them down on the bed again, settling between her legs as he captured her lips once again with his own. Her hands roamed over his body while her tongue pushed into his mouth, and he groaned as his entire body responded to her touch. He wanted everything to be perfect their first time, but he needed to be one with her – needed it with a maddening desperation. “Mione,” he gasped. “I need…in you…” “Yes,” she pleaded. “We can go slowly later, only now – please!” She raised her hips and he pushed slowly forward, looking deep in her eyes as he entered her for the first time with a gasp. The very air around them seemed charged with electricity as they finally became one. An unspoken thought passed between Harry and Hermione in that moment – that a promise never uttered had finally been fulfilled. All the pain of their forced aloofness, all the sadness at their lack of true intimacy was soothed away as they at last acknowledged what had been there between them all along. He smiled at her then, a soft sweet smile full of his love for her. She smiled back, nodding slightly in understanding. A small part of him regretted that they were not each other’s first. They had both had lovers, the affairs brief and unsatisfying. Each had known deep in their hearts that the only person they really wanted was right in front of them. It had seemed so impossible to each of them for there to ever be more than friendship between them, and so they had sought comfort in the arms of others. Harry had never regretted it as much as he did then, the sadness a small blight on what was otherwise a perfect moment. He stayed that way, fully seated inside her as he gazed deep in her eyes. His hand stroked her cheek, gently brushing away her happy tears. A soft moan escaped his lips as her warm wetness gripped him. He reveled in the knowledge that he was inside Hermione. They fit perfectly together. How many times had he dreamt of this moment? He felt her legs wrap around his waist; a silent request from the amazing woman sharing this experience with him. Her hands found his, fingers twining with his own as he moved above her, within her. She could feel him sliding in and out of her with full steady strokes, her name a mantra on his lips. He rained kisses on her face, moving frantically from lips to neck to ear, wanting to be everywhere at once. Her legs remained wrapped around him, pulling him in, encouraging him to give her all of himself. Harry lost himself in Hermione, lost himself in a love long denied, and finally consummated. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ June 24, 2005 – 12:32 AM @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Hermione’s cries of pleasure increased in volume as she drew closer and closer to release. Her hands released his, moving to gently cup his face as he desperately thrust inside her. Harry groaned loudly as he felt her spasm around him, her loud cry of ecstasy ringing in his ears. Her back arched off the bed, and he didn’t stop moving as she shuddered beneath him. After a moment it was done. She smiled at him as she came down from the peak, her body relaxing and her hand gently caressing his chest as he continued to stroke his hardness within her. He was close, she could tell. His breathing was ragged, his motions erratic. He bent to capture a nipple in his mouth, lips feasting on the soft flesh of her breast as he thrust violently with his hips. Hermione wrapped her arms around him and whispered in his ear. “Now, now,” she softly coaxed. He came with a great cry, buried within her, his entire body shuddering as she held him tightly. Her mouth breathed, “I love you,” over and over in his ear as he emptied himself inside her. He had never felt as close to her as he did in that moment – he could almost feel an energy passing between them, binding them together. Minutes passed, both of them motionless, Harry still inside her. Bright green eyes stared deeply into soft brown ones in a silent communion of love and unity. In their minds they were seventeen again, limbs entwined and hearts full to bursting as they came down from the heights of their first time making love. He remembered how she shook in his embrace, holding him as if her very life depended on it. She remembered the look on his face as he let go within her that first time, a mixture of fulfilled longing and loving awe as he gazed down at her, green eyes sparkling with life. The memory faded, leaving the two lovers in the present. Tears covered both their faces, testimony to the knowledge they held that this moment was fleeting, temporary. The few hours they had before morning were all that were allowed to them. When the sun rose, all that would be left to Harry were the memories of this night, just as it had been for the last six years. A soft sob wracked his body as he lowered his head to her breasts, crying bitter tears of loss and heartbreak. “There are times when I wish that I were truly dead,” she softly spoke. “At least if I were there would be closure…for both of us. He didn’t even give us that. Not even that.” @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ June 23, 1998 – 11:57 PM @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Harry fought back tears as he looked over the school grounds. Small fires still burned, legacy to the battle that had raged here for the last hour. Bodies lay lifeless on the ground, Death Eater and Auror both. Students were also among the dead, cut down as they came forth to defend what was to many of them a second home. There were far too many dead, he thought with an eerily calm detachment. No one had ever expected an attack on Hogworts. Everyone assumed Voldemort was too afraid of Dumbledore to challenge him at the very seat of his power. They had been wrong. And they had paid. When the attack had come, it had come quickly. A staggering ripple of power had surged through the school and its grounds as the dark wizards worked their spell, shattering protections a thousand years old -- protections that prevented enemy wizards from apparating on the grounds. It had been felt by everyone, asleep and awake. The screams had started not long after, as the dark one’s followers surged onto the grounds and into the castle, killing and destroying all in their path. Voldemort’s voice boomed over the school grounds, magically amplified, calling for Dumbledore to face him if he dared. There had been no sign of him so far. Harry and Hermione had been awake when the attack came, together in her room, quietly discussing their future. They had not made love since the night before, content for the time being to merely be together and hold one another as they planned for a life together. Fear swept through them as they heard Voldemort’s challenge and the screams of the dying. A strange feeling of calm had settled over Harry. He stood quickly, pulling Hermione with him. “Let’s help end this. I’ve lived in fear for so long………I just want it to end.” “You won’t be alone against him this time Harry,” she said, pulling him into a fierce embrace. “I’ll be with you.” Hermione was still at his side, one of the few still able to fight; one of the few still alive. Help had started arriving shortly after the assault began, ministry wizards responding to tripped wards. Many of those had died too, the sheer number of dark wizards having been more than anyone could have guessed. Voldemort had more followers than the order and the ministry had given him credit for. A flash of green light to his left caught Harry’s attention, and he moved in that direction, Hermione close behind him. Although he knew the Dark Lord was there on the grounds, it still came as a shock to Harry when they came to the lake’s edge and saw the figure in the black robes. Voldemort’s back was facing them and his wand was raised, dealing death to the Auror that had dared to face him. The sickly green light and rushing of wind had just ceased, the lifeless victim’s corpse falling to the ground as the young couple came upon him. He was standing near the tree where just the night before they had finally admitted their love to themselves and each other. Sensing the two students behind him, he spun around, wand leading in his outstretched hand. Not hesitating for a second, Harry pointed his wand and yelled “Deflagroare!!” A sheet of flame surged towards his foe, but with a soft popping sound Voldemort vanished, only to reappear to his right. The dark one’s fell voice rang out in the night. “Aevum Conquiesco!!” A shimmering appeared in the air over Harry and Hermione, and they both froze in place as Voldemort’s magic held them in thrall. The malicious figure regarded both of them with amusement. “Harry Potter.” He spat the name like a curse. “I’ve been expecting you.” He raised an emaciated finger to tap his forehead mockingly, and Harry felt pain rip through his scar. “Long you have thwarted my designs, but no more. There is no one to save you now. That coward Dumbledore refuses to show his face. I will take your life myself.” Menacing eyes turned to look at Hermione. “But first I think I’ll deprive you of the one you love the most.” As shock broke over Harry’s face, the Dark Lord laughed. “Oh yes. You have no secrets from me, Harry. I know of your feelings for the young Miss Granger. You tell me everything, whether you wish to or not.” Voldemort’s hand dipped into his robes, removing a small crystal vial. “I had originally planned this little surprise for you – a fitting payment for the fourteen years of hell you caused me. But it will be much more satisfying to have you watch as I banish the woman you love to the spirit world, still alive, instead.” Harry struggled against the magic holding him in place, terrified and furious at Voldemort’s words, but he was unable to break its hold over him. With a flick of his wand, the dark lord sent the vial hurtling to crash at Hermione’s feet. A dark aura surrounded her, enveloping her in unholy light, as Harry screamed. Voldemort’s laughter echoed across the water. “Living death Harry. She’ll be trapped in the realm of spirits, but unlike a ghost, she won’t be able to manifest in the physical world. She will live, grow old, and die – alone. And she will have an eternity to curse your name, for it will be your love of her that puts her there.” Voldemort’s wand turned to point at Harry. “Die now, knowing you have condemned her to a fate worse than your own will be. AVADA –-" “ABROGOARE AETERNITASATIS!!” a voice roared from the darkness. A brilliant shaft of light pierced the sky, illuminating the dark lord with white incandescence. Screaming, Voldemort dropped his wand as layer after layer of dark magic was stripped from him, the evil enchantments that gave him near eternal life being systematically annulled. He fell to the ground, writhing in agony. Behind him, Dumbledore kept his wand trained on the shuddering form, concentration and effort apparent on his wizened face. In that moment, Harry felt the spell rendering him powerless shatter. Terrible rage swelled in him as he saw Hermione silently screaming within the dark cloud now outlining her body. In his mind he saw all the pain and suffering Voldemort had caused to him and those he loved; the faces of his dead parents, Sirius, Cedric. Hand trembling, Harry leveled his wand at the Dark Lord. He spoke no word. A rippling band of pure elemental magic burst from the wand’s tip, striking Voldemort squarely in the chest. With his defenses being held down by Dumbledore, he had no power to resist or repel the attack. A gurgling scream bubbled from his lips as he was almost ripped in half by the fury of Harry’s magic. He twitched slightly and fell back in the grass. “Hermione!” Harry screamed. He ran to her, his hands grasping her own tightly. She struggled within the thin outline of black light that enveloped her, but it was obvious she was losing the battle against the enchantment that had been placed upon her. He saw with alarm that she was starting to turn transparent – he could see the grass behind her through her body. Panic gripped him as his mind frantically tried to think of a way to reverse the spell. A weak chuckle came from the ground near him. “You may have killed me Potter, but you still have lost. You can’t save her. I was still…the better…wizard…” A final sigh escaped Voldemort’s lips, and he lay still. “Don’t listen to him Harry. You’ve won.” Hermione’s voice seemed to come from a great distance. Her body shimmered in the evening air, seemingly made up of silvery motes of light. “I love you Harry. Never forget…I love you.” “I love you too. Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. We’ve only just started to live.” There was a sparkling in the air, and the silver lights winked out, leaving no trace of Hermione behind. Harry was left holding nothing but air. He screamed then, a terrible sound full of anger, pain, and horrible loss. Wrapping his arms around himself, Harry wept bitterly in the grass. He rocked back and forth, making nonsensical noises, desperately trying to hold on to sanity as his world crashed down around him. She wasn’t gone. She couldn’t be. A hand gently gripped his shoulder, pulling him to his feet. Dumbledore looked as if he had aged twenty years; his face was drawn and haggard in the evening light. “It is over. I am sorry I couldn’t get here sooner Harry. I had to make sure the spell was perfect; that I could strip him of the protections that made it impossible to kill him.” He looked at where Hermione had stood just moments before. “I am so sorry I wasn’t in time.” His eyes locked with Harry’s, and he saw that all the light was gone from them. “She would want you to go on Harry. Live for her – it is what she would have wanted.” Dumbledore stepped back from the horrible look in Harry’s eyes as he rose to his feet. “Live?” he asked woodenly. “I am already dead.” He turned without another word and walked to where Voldemort lay lifeless in the grass. He stared down at the body, then bent and picked up the wand that was the twin to his own. The crack as the wood split in his hands was loud in the silence. Harry quietly made his way back to the castle. Standing alone near the body of his former student, Albus Dumbledore watched Harry walk away, tears trickling down his face. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ June 24, 2005 – 12:51 AM @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Harry shuddered as the last of the memory faded. To the rest of the world, he had been mostly dead for the last seven years. After that horrible day he had concentrated all his efforts on the study of necromancy and the spirit world, determined to find a way to bring Hermione back. He knew that she was still alive in a sense, still aging just as he was. She was just trapped and alone, and that thought haunted him every day of his life. He had spent three years repeating the same day over and over, pouring over magical tomes and learning theory from the masters of the field. The spell he had been able to craft had worked, but with severe limitations…and a high personal cost. It could only be cast on the anniversary of her banishment, and it only lasted until dawn. Each casting cost him part of his own life, which was necessary to pull her essence temporarily back to the mortal plane. He had cast the spell every year since her banishing, each time modifying the enchantment in the hopes that this time it would last longer, maybe even bring her back permanently. So far it had not worked…and Harry didn’t know how many more times he could cast the enchantment before it killed him. Hermione lie next to him in the bed, her head pillowed on his chest. He felt her stir in his arms as she looked at him, the expressive eyes he loved so much taking in his face as if trying to memorize every line, every nuance. How small my own pain is next to hers, he thought. He could at least choose to interact with the world if he chose. She was trapped in a world where only she existed. She had no one to talk to, no one to comfort her loneliness. Surrounded by ghosts that she couldn’t communicate with, she was utterly alone. A lone tear made its way down Harry’s face as he saw understanding in her eyes. She knew that he punished himself every day for what had happened to her. Yet she didn’t blame him. Her finger gently wiped away his tear, and a sorrowful smile crossed her lips. “Please Harry, listen to me. This isn’t your fault. I chose to love you the same as you chose to love me. We fought it for years, but in the end we came together as I believe we were always meant to. Do you regret that you chose to finally admit that you love me?” “Never,” he choked. “Then let go of the guilt that torments you.” She ruffled his hair fondly, smiling at him. “Our time is limited…let’s not waste it on guilt, remorse, or thoughts of the bastard that is really responsible for all of this.” She pulled her mouth to his as her hands tangled in his hair. There was a desperate need in her eyes. He could see the emptiness that was her life now, the terrible pain and solitude that she was forced to endure. They broke their kiss, and Hermione whispered to him in the darkness of the room. “Make love to me. Make love to me like it’s the last time you ever will.” Harry wrapped her in his arms, his lips lightly grazing the side of her neck. He gently nibbled on an earlobe, hearing her sharp intake of breath. His hands ran over the smooth skin of her stomach, and she shivered at his touch. His mouth captured her own, tongue gently caressing her lips and playing over her teeth as she sighed. One hand cupped her breast, thumb tracing delicate circles about her hardening nipple. She cried out softly as he bent his head to swirl his tongue around the other nipple. Her breathing quickened as warmth spread through her body, a dull ache growing between her thighs. “Yes,” she called out softly. “Make me feel, Harry. Make me feel………” His lips placed gentle kisses on her breasts, her stomach. He tried to leave no part of her flesh untouched, hands kneading and stroking as his lips tasted her. His mouth came at last to the top of her mound, and he moved around it, placing soft kisses on her inner thighs. Her legs spread wider, granting him access to where she desperately needed him to be. “Please,” she pleaded. Harry’s hands wrapped around her legs, and he pulled her to his waiting mouth. His tongue gently teased her folds, drawing gasps of pleasure from her. She cried out as he slid a finger inside her, stroking her wetness while he stimulated her with his lips and tongue. Her hips shook as he gently licked and suckled at her sensitive flesh. Harry tried to give her as much pleasure as possible, mouth moving continuously to reach her pleasure points. His tongue was relentless, licking her outer folds in broad strokes. His eyes were filled with heat as he stared up her body and locked gazes with her. He removed his finger from her at last, replacing it with his tongue, probing deep as she moaned in the darkness. Her legs shook as waves of pleasure rolled through her. He slowly moved back up to the top of her mound with his tongue, slipping the finger back inside as Hermione’s hips bucked beneath him. She let out as a soft scream as he finally came to her pleasure center and took it in his mouth. The finger beat a steady rhythm inside her as he sucked insistently on the hard nub between his lips. Hermione’s entire body went rigid as Harry’s efforts finally brought her past the point of no return. He rode out the storm with her, holding her tightly to his mouth, still sucking as she let go with a loud cry of release. She locked eyes with him as her climax overtook her. When Hermione at last fell back on the bed, body quivering, he released her from his mouth. Smiling, he placed a final kiss on her mound before moving up to enfold her in his arms once more. His body ached to be inside her and a passion such as he had never felt, bordering on madness, swept through him. He needed to possess her utterly. Hermione, sensing his mood as she usually did, rolled over on her stomach, propping herself on hands and knees -- offering herself to him. It wasn’t gentle. Harry took her with a savagery that surprised them both. He pounded into her from behind, crying out her name as she gripped him tightly within her. He felt her peak, once, twice. Relentless, he stroked fast and deep, needing to spend himself inside her, claim her in the most primal way possible. Voldemort may have mostly robbed him of her, but at this moment she was his, gloriously his. His own scream sounded alien in his ears as he finally came, filling her with his essence. Afterward, he held her tightly in his arms as his breathing returned to normal. They both knew there were many ways to show love; some gentle, some raw and uncontrollable. What mattered was that she was his, and he was hers………for now. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ June 24, 2005 – 4:43 AM @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ They didn’t have much time left. Each of them knew it; neither of them spoke of it. They had filled the early hours holding each other, making love, and soothing the other’s tears when they came. He couldn’t bear the thought of having to watch her vanish before his eyes once more. Every year it became harder, knowing that empty joyless days yawned ahead, despair his only companion. He didn’t think he could take it again. “It has to end.” She was watching his face, her own a solemn mask. “You may die in the next casting, or if not, the next after that. But you WILL die Harry, and I couldn’t bear that. You still have a life to live here, and people that care about you.” Her hands firmly took his, and she forced him to meet her gaze. “He stole my life; don’t let him steal yours too. You have to go on.” “I don’t know how,” he told her. “How can I live and let myself be happy, knowing you are trapped and alone, forever?” “Not forever. We will be together again. This life doesn’t last forever. And wherever we do go after this life ends, I know we will find each other. You must promise me you won’t cast the enchantment again Harry. Swear it to me. Swear on your love for me.” Her eyes pleaded…and he could not deny her. “I swear.” His voice sounded hollow. They held each other, not speaking, not crying. Neither had any tears left. He kissed her softly, repeatedly, trying to picture her exactly as she was then, beautiful and alive and in his arms. She smiled at him, her heart in her eyes, and pulled him into her embrace. The only sound in the flat was their soft breathing. He would remember the quiet peace and love he felt in her arms, clinging to the memory of it in the weeks to come. Morning came quietly to London. A barely distinguishable lightening of the sky marked the day’s arrival. Hermione was looking deeply into Harry’s eyes, saying more with a glance than words ever could. A silvery outline appeared about her body as the Sun’s first rays crept through the window. “There are other worlds than this,” she spoke softly. “I will always love you Harry. We will be together again.” “I love you Hermione.” His final words echoed in the darkness. She was gone. He stood, watching the place she had been for a long time, wondering why the tears wouldn’t come. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ September 19, 2005 – 7:42 PM @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Harry knelt next to the headstone, placing the single rose on the well-tended plot of grass. He had come here every year on this day, even though there was no body beneath the ground. It was one way to cope with her loss, to have a place he could associate with her. The past three months had been some of the hardest of Harry’s life. After spending the last seven years as a recluse, trying to join the rest of the world had been a difficult process. He was amazed at how his friends had accepted him back and been supportive of him throughout the ordeal. It would be a long time before things became normal again – at least as normal as they could be with her gone. But he was trying. It was a crisp September evening, and a soft wind rustled the leaves of the trees in the cemetery. Harry looked at the marble headstone, hand gently resting on its top. “I know you can hear me. I miss you. Every day it’s an effort to get up and keep going. I’m trying, Hermione. But it’s so hard. I love you. Happy Birthday.” He wearily rose to his feet, hand caressing the smooth marble beneath his fingers. With a sigh, he turned to go. “Harry?” He froze in mid-step, mouth suddenly dry. Over the many years since she had disappeared, Harry had heard her voice countless times. He had even been sure he’d seen her before – but every time it had turned out to be nothing more than his memories, come to haunt him in the waking world. But this time, the voice sounded so loud, so clear……… Slowly he turned around, and all the strength left his legs in a rush. Stumbling to his knees, Harry could only stare at the figure in front of him; waiting for it to vanish as it had every other time he’d seen it while awake. She wasn’t going away. She was really there. She was dressed plainly, in jeans and a light blouse. The breeze blew her long hair so that it danced about her face. The brown eyes that tormented him nightly in his dreams were looking straight at him. He saw a tear make its way slowly down her cheek, and then all thought fled as she held her arms out to him. Harry would never remember how he got from kneeling on the grass to standing and holding her tightly in his arms. He could hear himself weeping loudly as he picked her up and spun her about, laughing through his tears. She was really here. Hermione was with him…but how? He stared at her in wonder as he set her down. Wordlessly she picked up his hand and guided it to her midsection, where he felt a slight swelling. His head snapped up to look at her and she smiled the beautiful smile that had captured his heart half a lifetime ago. If he had any remaining doubts that this was really Hermione, they fled in the face of that radiant smile. “The enchantment wasn’t strong enough to hold two souls in purgatory,” she whispered. “I am free, and so is our child.” Words escaped him as he looked at her. There were a million things he was feeling, a million things he wanted to say to her. They all became irrelevant as he took her in his arms and his lips pressed against hers. He trembled as the realization sunk in – it was over. All the pain, all the misery was finally over. Hermione was free. HE was free. In a small cemetery on the outskirts of London, two people kissed, their arms around each other and their joyous laughter ringing in the evening air. Staring into the eyes of the only woman he would ever love, Harry Potter smiled. The nightmare was over. He was whole again. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Epilogue: July 31st, 2006 @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ It was a beautiful day for a picnic. There was a slight wind coming off the lake, and as it was the middle of summer break the grounds were mostly deserted at Hogworts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry watched as Hermione packed up the leavings of their lunch. She seemed to grow more beautiful every day. She would often catch him staring at her, and today was no exception. Her hands playfully swatted at him as she blushed. “What are you staring at?” “You. You’re beautiful.” He grinned as her blush deepened. “And you, sir, are biased.” “I doubt that. Anyone who cares to look can see I am married to the most beautiful witch alive.” He held up his left hand, where the golden band encircled his ring finger. “And you’re mine. ALL mine.” His grin broadened. Hermione threw her hands up in defeat, laughing. “Ok fine, you win – I am the most gorgeous woman on the planet. Happy?” “Yes. I adore winning.” He scooped her up into his arms and kissed her quite thoroughly. They were both breathless by the time he released her. “Oh you’re hopeless,” she said affectionately. “Be careful when you bring her. I’d hate to wake her up.” She turned and began to walk towards Hogsmeade, where they would apparate back home. Harry picked up the infant peacefully sleeping in her baby carrier in one arm and walked a few steps to the willow where years before, he had professed his love to his wife for the first time. Grinning, he pointed his wand at the base of the tree. Letters began to appear, carved into the wood of the trunk. **H.P. and H.G Forever** “One day when you’re older I’ll bring you back here and explain everything to you,” he promised to the sleeping baby in his arms. Harry stepped a few feet to his right and stared straight ahead, addressing the air in front of him. “Meet my daughter,” he said softly. “Lily Ann Potter. She has her mother’s eyes, don’t you think? She is quite a miracle. And you couldn’t stop her from coming to be. I won’t think of you again after this. You can’t hurt us anymore.” Harry turned and walked slowly after his wife. He smiled the entire way. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Author’s Notes: Whew! This story grew greatly in the telling. The idea came to me at work – what would Harry do if Hermione died? Things kind of branched out from there. I sincerely hope things didn’t seem too disjointed. Thanks to my beta Sarahkitty, and to everyone who has reviewed my writing. Whether you enjoyed this story or hated it, please leave me a review and let me know what you thought of it. Thanks!