A/N. All good guesses about where Harry took her. I went for the not so obvious. I hope I did this justice.
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Chapter 28 - A Perfect Instance In Time
Hermione knew where they were even before she opened her eyes. The smell of the crisp, cool air, the distant sound of familiar wildlife going about their own business and the crunchy feel of dried leaves beneath her feet were enough to bring back the vivid image of lush evergreens with snow covered peaks in her mind. She remembered the place with such clarity because they spent days living in different parts of it. Harry had taken her back to the Forest of Dean. The question was 'why'?
He let go of her hand as she took in the scene. Where they were currently was not familiar. It wasn't one of the places where they had camped out while they were hiding from Voldemort and hunting for the Horcruxes. They were in a clearing near the bank of a small still pond, natural night light from the new moon filtering through the gap in the forest roof and reflecting off the body of water before them. In the shadows beyond, thick trees lined and traced their perimeter several rows deep and seamlessly blended in with the rest of the forest. The sight took her breath away.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Harry read her mind. He was standing a few feet to her right, admiring the same view she was and watching her reaction. "The first time I was here I didn't appreciate it at all. Goes to show how inaccurate first impressions can be."
Hermione looked on as he conjured a bonfire in between them and the edge of the pond. The fire instantly served its purpose; the mists that were forming from their mouths as they breathed in and out moments ago disappeared and Harry had even shed his jacket as the flame's close proximity had warmed them up. Taking his cue that they were staying she did the same, finding a nearby bush to leave her coat on.
She was about to ask him where they were exactly when the fire flickered and she caught a glimpse of the flattish surface of a rock beside an aged sycamore tree. The stone was interrupted by a jagged blackened imperfection caused by something unnatural. She had her answer.
"This is the pond you almost drowned in," she declared with certainty, moving closer to the edge and studying its clear waters as she was seeing it for the first time.
"Where Ron pulled out the Sword of Gryffindor from and saved my life. Yes."
"And that's where you destroyed the Horcrux in the locket," she motioned over to the rock next to the old sycamore tree.
"Ron did," he corrected.
"I remember," that was what she meant.
Hermione recalled there was snow on the ground that evening and they had just narrowly escaped Voldemort at Godric's Hallow. The pond had been frozen that December night Harry had to jump into it. It was only normal for Harry not to notice how beautiful it was here then.
It had been five years since it happened and they hadn't spoken of it in detail. After living a year of its reality and seeing the havoc Voldemort caused everyday none of them brought those days much up during conversations, preferring to go on with life. Why here and why now? A few reasons, all appalling, popped up in her head. Was this about Voldemort again?
"Why are we here?"
Harry was now standing beside her, the warm light shining off the burdened expression on his face as he gathered himself for what he wanted to say. Her heart was beating hard against her chest as her anxiety grew.
"I need you help sorting something out," Harry said puzzling her even more. "About us."
The thumping screeched to a sudden halt then built up momentum again. Harry hesitated, seemingly unsure of what to say next.
"About us?" she asked, thinking she might not have heard him right, "Do we have a problem?"
She didn't think so but now she wasn't so sure. Harry had been acting strangely all week.
"We could have one depending on how you take what I'm about to tell you," he said ruefully, peering into her eyes with worried ones.
It was then when she realized what it was that was different in how he had been looking at her. His attentiveness to what she said and did, compared to the casual that she was accustomed to, had grown and deepened over the last few weeks. It felt like he was trying to figure her out, something she didn't notice he did before.
He ran his fingers roughly through his black hair, a sure sign of nervousness. This was all coming from way out left field and she was done guessing. Her gut told her to be patient and let Harry do his thing.
"Maybe you should sit," he suggested, motioning to the thick trunk of a fallen tree close by.
"No thanks."
"Are you su...?"
"Harry," she interrupted and was so tempted to rush him but stopped herself in time.
After significant internal deliberation he finally said to her, "Did Ron ever tell you more about that night we destroyed the locket?"
She shook her head, curiosity piqued even more.
Harry continued, "The Horcrux sensed that it was going to die and tried to turn Ron against me."
"How?"
"Ron had been jealous of what we had. You know, how we seemed to figure stuff out together, finish off the other's thoughts," she nodded, knowing what he meant. "He thought that...um…by staying with me when I had that argument with him you cared more about me than you cared about him."
"Yes, I remember," she answered; how could she forget?
"The Horcrux projected copies, images of you and me, mostly saying nasty things to hurt Ron," he shared, "It was feeding off Ron's jealousy, his thoughts, his insecurities, about how his Mum wanted a daughter, how he was second best to me, how you preferred me."
She had wondered if any of the other Horcruxes did something similar to what the other piece of Voldemort's black soul in Helga Hufflepuff's cup did just as she was about to impale it with the Basilisk's fang. Ron, probably too embarrassed about it, never mentioned that he had seen the scene play out before. No wonder he didn't lose it when images of her and Harry came out from the mouth of the cup and began mocking him.
She felt a need to speak up for Ron, "It was always difficult for him. He kept measuring himself against you."
Hermione suspected Ron still did on occasion. Harry nodded, understanding that it was something Ron knew was foolish too.
"After he stabbed the Horcrux, I stood there..." Harry pointed to a spot a few feet away, "...and I told him there was nothing going on between us, that you're like a sister to me."
She didn't respond, unable to find her voice right away. That hurt. 'Sister', she felt, was a demotion from best friend. Sister meant relative and more an obligation to be with rather than be with by choice. It also meant the absolute absence of normal attraction. Although she was certain Harry meant it in the most positive way she could not do anything about the pain that cut through her. Had they had this conversation weeks ago she would haven't been as sensitive but now...
A sudden horrific thought about why he needed to talk urgently crossed her mind. Did he know how she felt about him? Was he about to tell her he wasn't okay with it? Was this why he was having so much difficulty?
"You we're being honest," she managed to say, though when she did she couldn't look at him straight in the eye, fearful of seeing rejection in them, or worse, pity.
Unfortunately he wasn't quite finished and he added, "I also said I was sure you felt the same way about me, that I'm like a brother to you."
Those words used up the little patience she had left, not sure if it was with her for her continuing idiocy about Harry or with him for not just telling her that she was freaking him out. She lost it.
"What's the point in all this? You said you needed help but it seems like you've got us all sorted out!"
"Why are you upset?" he asked surprised, perplexed and concerned all at the same time, not expecting such a biting reaction.
"I'm not!"
"You're crying."
She didn't notice before but indeed, she was.
"I'm just tired!"
"Did I say something wrong?" he pressed on, his confusion evident.
"It's been a long day," she quickly brushed the warm wetness off her cheeks and turned her back on him, the throbbing ache clouding her thoughts and impairing her ability to converse logically, "I don't know why you brought me here to tell me that we're like brother and sister when you could have done that at Grimmauld, at Finnigan's or even anytime at the Ministry today."
It was a stupid thing to say but it was too late to take it back. Tried as she might she couldn't prevent the deluge from coming. She was sobbing, her thoughts muddled and confused as she attempted to get away from Harry who was trying to get her focussed attention. He was saying something but she couldn't hear him and she couldn't look at him to try and listen. At that point, she didn't even care about what he thought was happening or if he figured out why she was acting the way she was. All she wanted to do was leave and get away from him as far away as she possibly could.
Thinking that she would probably Splinch him or herself or them both if she tried to Disapparate, she turned to him, eyes still burning hot from the tears that wouldn't let up, and pleaded.
"Let me go... Please let me go."
"No!"
He doesn't mean to be mean, her inner voice defended him.
She remembered that her coat and her purse were somewhere, so she walked back near the fire, saying, mostly to herself, "I can't...I can't stay..."
"Hold on a sec, dammit, just hear me out!"
Harry headed her off and grabbed both her hands in his, holding them up near his face to make her look at him. She couldn't get away from him and he wasn't going to let her go until he said whatever it was he wanted to say.
"Hermione, look at me!" he grasped her hands tighter, tugging at them desperately.
"What?!" she snapped at him, clenching her jaw to toughen herself up so she could look him in the eye without tearing up.
"It's changed!" he explained, his tone urgent and pleading for her to believe him, "I meant what I said back then but how I feel about you has changed. I don't know when or how or even what exactly this is but all I can say for sure is that it's different. These past few days I've been trying to deny it and ignore it but it's there and I'm certain there's nothing sisterly about it…"
"Wha...what are you saying?"
"I've been thinking about us lately, about who I am to you and who you are to me. I've been thinking about us a lot and in ways I've never thought about us before. I can't keep this to myself much longer. You did say we men should be more upfront with our intentions so, I'm risking rejection and hoping you won't laugh in my face when I tell you what I'm about to tell you."
"Harry, you're rambling..."
Or maybe that was her, her thoughts racing side by side with his, trying to keep up. She matched his intense stare hoping she'd find understanding there when his words seemed not enough.
"This...," he said, placing the palm of her right hand against his chest, holding it steady there, making her feel the rapid bounding cadence underneath his sweater, "...is what my heart does whenever you touch me, whenever I see you, whenever I think of you. And I've been thinking about you so much I can't work, I can't sleep, I can't even play Quidditch properly. I've been debating whether or not to let you know. I don't want to scare you off but I'm useless like this. I also thought you'd probably figure it out at some point and just get freaked out. I can't afford that to happen. I need your help sorting this out."
The strain on his face was replaced by one of anticipation, of hope about her response. At some point during all that she had stopped crying and had regained some of her mental competency. Okay...there was a perfectly logical explanation for this...
"Just how hard did that Bludger hit your head yesterday?" she queried, eyeing him with suspicion.
"It wasn't the Bludger. I'm fine. At least physically I am," Harry dismissed her supposition quickly, again with that look like he was trying to figure out if she meant something else.
"Then you should see a shrink," she concluded, "You've obviously gone mental and are having a nervous breakdown."
He laughed at that.
"I am not kidding, Potter!" her voice broke as she expressed her frustration at his not taking this too seriously, "This break-up you and Ginny are going through..."
"You're not getting off that easily. This isn't about Ginny."
"You don't know that!"
"Actually, I do. I went to see her, to be sure this has nothing to do with her," he revealed and emphatically added, "I know this has nothing to do with her."
"Are you toying with me? Did Dean put you up to this?" he shook his head; "It was Seamus, wasn't it? I'm gonna hex him. I'm gonna hex him right after I deal with you!"
Harry, much to her irritation, was still finding this all entertaining, "Why is it so hard to believe that I fancy you?"
"Because I've been around you forever and you never have," that was easy.
"We don't always see things clearly the first time around."
"Why now?"
He shrugged, "I don't know. Does it matter?"
Her eyes wandered to where he continued to hold her hand against his chest.
"Can you let go of me so I can go home?"
Hermione was still processing how fast his heart was beating against the palm of her hand but she couldn't think properly with him being so close and acting this way. She couldn't go on facing him like this, touching him and being touched by him, having physical contact with him that now meant something. This was going to be a problem.
He did as she asked.
"So that's it? You won't even give me a chance?" he asked calmly, too calmly she sensed he was up to something.
"A chance to do what?"
"To go out with you."
"I go out with you all the time," she pointed out, that was definitely going to change.
"Stop pretending you don't know what I'm talking about. I mean go out," he was chuckling, "Like on a date."
"Why?!"
"I hate to be unoriginal but basically for same general reasons men ask women out."
"Cut it out, Harry, I mean it!"
"I mean it too," he replied, "I just want a chance. I want a fair shot just like Miles had."
"You finally got his name right; imagine that."
She needed a moment to think. Was this really happening?
"What does he have that I don't? Miles got to three dates. Did you let him kiss you? No, wait, I don't want to know. But how fair is that? You didn't even know the guy and you went out with him three times. You know me and you won't even consider going out with me once."
"Guilt tripping me is not going to work," she said to him, then added, "And Miles and I never kissed, just so you know."
"Why won't you go out with me?" he asked.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"You don't find me attractive, huh," he was being silly, "Is it the scar?"
"Quit trying to be cute with me," she scolded.
It is so working. Ugh!
"I'll assume that means you do find me attractive," he announced happily, bringing out his boyish charm that annoyingly made her want to throw herself at him, "You know, people actually go out on dates based on that alone."
"People date to get to know each other. We already know each other."
He smiled goofily, "That is debatable."
She rolled her eyes in exasperation as she blushed. It was getting way too hot around him.
"That's not the point."
"What is your point? We're both unattached, have admitted to finding each other attractive, why can't we date each other?"
She had to admit that what he just said made sense. He just confessed to being attracted to her and while in her mind she should be jumping into his arms, she wasn't. She didn't know exactly why that was but suspected it had something to do with the fact that truth or not, this was not something she ever thought she'd ever have to deal with. It was throwing her off.
After all these years he finally noticed her; big deal. This physical reaction of his she could easily attribute to the fact that he just ended a long relationship and they were spending so much time together. Did he expect that she would be ecstatic to hear how his sisterly feelings for her had changed to one of...lust? This was even worse than being his 'sister'.
It was not the time to be all negative but she couldn't help it. Coming back here brought back memories of how different they were from each other and how they disagreed on many things. Loving him from afar was one thing but being with him? She hadn't thought about it before but were they even compatible?
Stupid...stupid...stupid... Isn't this what you wanted? You're finally getting a chance to be with the man you love! What is wrong with you?!
He doesn't feel the same way about me.
I thought you said you would accept what he had to offer even if it was less than what you wanted?
I haven't hexed him and left him to rot here, have I?
What are you scared about?
That it won't work anyway because it's not the real thing for him. It's risking a lot and for what? To scratch an itch?
"Harry, we're friends. We have too much history."
The man did his research; he had a ready rebuttal.
"But isn't history a good thing? No awkward adjustments, no need to feel each other out. I reckon that should eliminate the need for dates one and two right there."
"I don't want to lose good friends. I don't want to lose you."
"You won't."
"Harry..."
He guessed what her next point was.
"Ginny will be fine. She'll understand and she'll be happy for us," then qualified his last statement, "If we do end up together."
Hermione knew Ginny better than he did and she wasn't so sure about that. There was an unwritten rule between best friends that ex's were off limits.
"And I'm certain Ron wouldn't mind either."
That one she didn't quite agree with him either. He was wishful thinking, living in some dream world.
"That's not what I'm most concerned about," she said to him gravely, trying to figure out a way to say what she was about to say without insulting him
"You don't think what I feel is the real deal," he read her mind again.
"It's not what you hope it is," she said it to him straight.
"How can you be so sure it isn't?" he asked, challenging.
"Because I know you. I just know."
"Well I don't. I have to find out for sure and this is the only way I know how. Look, I know I'm also not who you expect to be with but all I want is a chance," he repeated his request.
'Also'...of course she wasn't who he thought he would be with. Hearing the truth in different ways didn't make it sound better. It made her feel like she was an afterthought; come to think of it she was an afterthought. Rebound girl; his rebound girl. How could she have not seen this coming?
The more she considered what he was asking the more she thought about how badly she could get hurt. It was after all a basic instinct to want to survive. He wasn't sure - she was.
"All I want is for us to try it out and to be able to say that we did try even if it doesn't work. I don't want regrets. Life's too short."
She groaned inwardly asking herself why he had to make so much sense.
"If we do this and it doesn't work out the way we hope it will, at least one of us can get really hurt. Are you prepared for that?"
"No," came his honest reply, "But I've thought about it. I care about you and I know you care about me. I would never hurt you deliberately and I know it's the same for you. If we do this and it doesn't work out, we'll just have to remember that."
Harry made it sound easier than she knew it was going to be. Not surprisingly, even though she didn't agree, it was enough reassurance that he believed she would never hurt him intentionally.
They held each other's gaze for a few seconds, hers one of concern and his one of hope, then he said to her, "If we do this and it works out, imagine that."
Harry gave her a broad smile, his excitement and enthusiasm rubbing off on her. It was pretty hard to argue with that. The thought of them being together freed her from her reservations and the risks faded into the background. He was right. Life was too short. Not doing this was really not an option anymore. Like him she couldn't imagine living with this huge 'what if' hanging over their heads.
"What exactly do you want from me, Harry?" her voice was steady despite just realizing the enormity of what they were just about to do.
"For starters, an open mind that this could work and your heart in it one hundred percent."
He had no idea.
"And?"
"The less you know the less chances you'll bail out," he thought for a moment and added carefully, "Why were you upset earlier?"
Figuring he deserved at least one sincere answer, she took the palm of his hand and placed it over her chest, letting him feel the thumping in it that hadn't let up. He recognized its meaning instantly.
She explained, "It was um...a nonverbal protest...to what you said about us being brother and sister."
"I see. When did this happen?"
"I'm not sure," she answered; it was kind of true.
"Do you...do you think it's the real thing?" he asked, very concerned.
Hermione saw his mind like it was hers. He didn't expect her to be attracted to him the same way he was to her. Just the possibility that she loved him for real as they had talked about, unconditionally and forever, scared him. She didn't want Harry pressured into feeling that way about her.
"I don't know," she lied, "You're not who I expect to be with either."
It was better that he believed they were in the same boat. An enormous cloud lifted from within him. As usual she was right.
They looked at each other, his eyes sparkling, his beaming smile absolutely worry-free and easy. Seeing this she latched onto his belief that this could work and felt herself smiling too.
"You know, I just realized something," he said, his arms finding their way around her waist, gently pulling her closer, "We've known each other for more than ten years. Strictly speaking, and you pointed this out earlier, there is not much purpose for dating."
She frowned, "Are you trying to get away from wining and dining me?"
"No, of course not," he denied with a chuckle, knowing she was teasing, "I'm merely hoping to expedite the exploration of certain aspects of dating we're not familiar with yet."
His voice faded as his gaze deepened, unmasking for her his innermost desires.
"I'm a bit slow today," she muttered, "You're going to have to show me what you mean."
"Hermione," he breathed her name.
"Yes?"
"Can I kiss you now?"
"Only if you feel a compelling need to," she answered.
His eyes fell to her mouth and hers fell on his. Harry leaned down and their lids fluttered close as he pressed his mouth lightly against hers, unleashing a frenzy of butterflies within her. He moved his soft lips ever so slightly and kissed her with brushing featherlike strokes, tasting, testing, waiting for a reply. She responded to his enticing invitation, kissing him back in kind, feeling each and every nerve ending on her tingle with approval and excitement.
Harry took another step closer, gently pulled her flush against him and kissed her in an obviously unsisterly manner, caressing each and every part of her mouth with his in a slow sweet dizzying pace. Her arms had made their way up around his neck, her body aching for the feel of his embrace. She parted her lips slightly allowing their breaths to mingle, his a minty scent that she would store into her memory forever.
Each passing second their kiss became deeper, longer, needier. It was evident that they wanted each other more. His hands moved to her back, his strong arms now pulling her hard against him, while her entirety strained to feel him. His tongue followed the outline of her lips, teasing, tempting, driving her insane. She couldn't wait for him any longer. She tilted her head, pulled him down and crushed his lips with hers, her fingers digging into his hair. A muffled groan escaped him as she probed his mouth with her seeking tongue and stroke his passionately in a mind emptying blaze. He matched her fervour, driving his lips hard against hers, feeding fuel to their already fiery desire.
They broke apart at the same time, breathless, hot, still entangled in each other's arms. She had her eyes closed still, thinking about what to say to him when they eventually had to talk and she couldn't come up with anything. She was trembling from the excitement all this was causing within her. When she finally lifted her lids her eyes ran into his green piercing ones, dazed and as full of want as hers.
"Whoa...."
He accurately summed up succinctly. His voice swayed her unsteadily, her desire for him, all of him, overwhelming her like never before.
She saw a smile creep up at the corners of his mouth, "I guess this means you will go out with me."
"We'll discuss terms later."
Thankfully he got the hint. He kissed her again, this time more confidently, more daringly, the joy he felt about things working out permeating through his act. Feeling him happy like this gave her a rush of euphoria too. His happiness was her happiness and the idea, the thought, the fact, that she was directly responsible for it, well, was exhilarating.
So they kissed by the fire on this beautiful night, the trees, the forest creatures, the new moon and the still pond, all witnesses to what she couldn't adequately describe and he couldn't identify. Several times he got too hot, making it necessary for them to take pause. She could feel his resolve to maintain control but unless they stopped kissing or touching it was a lost battle.
It would be cruel to forego what they were doing and it wasn't only him. She wanted him badly. She needed him badly. Reasonable thinking pointed them to wait, to not rush, and that was what Harry in his usual noble way was trying to do. But swept by the passion blazing between them she could only think of how right the moment was. She had known and loved the man for more than half her life; not sleeping with him after tonight, knowing that he desired her too, was unimaginable. And if he figured he didn't love her after all this then they would at least have this perfect instance in time.
Hermione had to make the offer and hope that he wouldn't decline. She broke off their heated kiss. Under his questioning expression she conjured thick warm blankets and laid them out on the mound of dried leaves near their feet. She kicked off her shoes and took his hand in hers, tugging him gently as she stepped onto the makeshift bed.
With worry he asked, "Are you sure about this?"
She nodded and convinced that she was was all he needed to know. He joined her. She lay on her back and welcomed his mouth on hers again, noting his loss of restrain as they both held nothing back. With his body on hers, he left her mouth and began a trail of blistering kisses down one side of her neck then up the other, each one more pressing than the previous as she gave him better access. She could feel him struggling as she was to slow down and prolong the pleasures of the moment, battling against the mad rush to gain more intimacy.
Her hands worked their way down and tugged his sweater loose, slipping them under, finding skin to touch. His were under her top, caressing her too. She let out a moan as he nibbled where her neck joined her shoulder causing a wave of gratifying impulses throughout her.
While the fire burned they burned beside it. He momentarily stopped kissing her and propped himself up. He pulled his sweater off in one motion and patiently watched her as she got out of hers. Covering themselves with warm blankets she shivered at the heavenly feel of his bare chest against her bosom. He soon slipped and disappeared under the covers, kissing her, devouring her flesh, bare inch by bare inch. With a single try he freed up her breasts from their support and languidly partook of them, one at a time. He was setting her ablaze.
She writhed helplessly under his adept ministrations as she let every little sensation he incited take over. Her hands wandered aimlessly, his hair, his back, then back to his hair. And just when she thought there was nothing else he could do to work her up, his trail of kisses inched lower while his fingers unfastened her skirt, discarded it and all that was underneath it.
Completely naked and exposed she felt disadvantaged. She pulled him up towards her before he could continue with his designs and kissed his mouth hard.
"You first," he said to her huskily in between kisses.
"No. Not tonight," she replied, ravaging his mouth equally, rejecting his noble offer.
Unmindful of his protest she unhooked his pants and unzipped it. He groaned a swear as she slipped her hand into his trousers and wrapped it around his fullness, sliding it in and out. Harry retaliated, stroking the nubbin of excitable flesh guarding her entrance gently but purposefully, muffling her own guttural response with a raw kiss. His tongue swooped in as he fingered her like a virtuoso on some string instrument, driving her to the brink.
All of her turned to mush and her mind fogged over. Somewhere out there she heard the faint sound of crackling firewood. The pale moonlight glistened off their partially exposed naked bodies. Harry, her Harry, the Harry she loved, was making love to her. It was just him and her, just how she had hoped it would be.
She wouldn't last long the way he was playing her. Letting go of the wand in her hand and finding another close by, she magically removed the rest of Harry's garments and silently conjured a contraceptive spell. She made room for him and as he slid naturally in between her legs, he looked down upon her, drowning her in his eyes crazed with desire as she had never seen before. Harry wanted her with an intensity that blew her away. It was at that exact moment that she knew she would belong to him for all of eternity.
Breathless and swooning, she wanted him; all of him; now. Her eyes would have said it all. He took her, filling her to depths no one had ever before. No adjectives could adequately describe the bliss of having him in her completely, body, mind and soul. He moved in and out of her rhythmically, slow and deep at first, the motion awakening more of what he already had. His pace quickened and she could feel him driving himself harder against her. Her hands rested on his buttocks, guiding him in closer with each incursion, her hips arching up to get him deeper than deep. They were so close and as if on cue, they looked at each other lovingly at the same time, profound affection overflowing between them.
In one powerful thrust, he emptied himself inside her at the exact moment wave after wave after wave of pleasure erupted from within her. Primitive sounds escaped them both and they clutched on to each other tightly as they rode out their peaks.
Gradually, his taut body relaxed. Their ragged breathing improved and he kissed her mouth sweetly. She kissed him back, pouring her love for him into each and every second of it. When their kiss ended he smiled at her happily.
"So that's what it's like," he said to her with a twinkle in his eye.
"I guess that's what it's like," she couldn't wipe the grin off her face. She loved him and she loved what they just did and how they did it. She also loved how he felt after, how he stayed where he was. And she loved what he just said and how he said it. Yes, she thought. Whatever he felt for her at the moment was more than enough. She asked him, "Curiosity satisfied?"
"Satisfied?" he scoffed, and then looked down where they were still connected and smirked mischievously, "Um...hardly."
She laughed; they laughed. He kissed her again and she eagerly kissed him back. She understood; she felt what he was feeling. What just happened, as wonderful as it was, wasn't enough. That night they made love again and again, less hurried than the first, their insatiable desires for each other pushing human physiologic and physical limits to the hilt.
Much later, with Harry holding her in his arms in a warm, intimate embrace, she opened her eyes and took in the image before them. The pond, the moon, the trees. She sighed. Just like it was with Harry, the place was more beautiful to her now than it was before.
And while she may have been his afterthought she didn't care. This moment with Harry was the happiest she had been in her life.
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