A/N. Thanks to all those who reviewed - so glad that last chapter did not disappoint.
Now - Harry's POV. This is short but I do have to warn that you might not want to read this in too public a place :blush: There is also a danger of falling seriously in love with Harry here.
Like the last chapter it will be a better read if you read in the moment and not think of what we know will happen.
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Chapter 29 - The Epiphany
It was early Tuesday morning. Harry lay beside Hermione, holding her from behind with eyes closed and inhaling the sweet flowery scent he had been craving for all week. She was awake; he could tell because he could almost hear her thinking to herself and because of her feet. He smiled as she rubbed one up gently against his. It seemed that she liked doing that and it was growing on him.
He was woefully spent. His spirit was willing but the rest of his body was telling him to fuck off; something about rest or food or both. Unwilling to relinquish the warm spot beside Hermione he had been ignoring them and joined her silent introspection, wondering what she was thinking about. If he were to take an educated guess he was almost sure she was analyzing what just happened tonight.
So, what just happened tonight? he asked himself.
He was still in shock about how his plan to get her to go out with him ended up with her naked in his arms. It would be a serious understatement to say that the night had turned out better than he hoped. Expecting her resistance to the idea, he had done his homework, came prepared with logical arguments and had replies to every excuse he knew she would use to talk him out of it.
However, while he was confident he would eventually win her over, he didn't imagine this. He was counting on using their friendship to get her to at least look at him differently. Yes, it was a bit low, a testament to his desperation, so her attraction to him was a most welcome revelation. She sure hid her feelings well and how she reacted to his confession was quite interesting in itself.
That brought a ready smile on his face as he remembered how she found it so hard to believe that he fancied her. That was amusing to watch. He chuckled before he could stop himself.
"What's so funny?" her voice broke the quiet.
"You, how you found it so hard to believe me when I told you I liked you."
She acknowledged, finding it entertaining herself. At the moment, his arms were wrapped snugly around her waist, hers on them, giving them a light squeeze the same time he planted a chaste kiss on her hair. They fell back into an easy silence.
Portions of his body were still tingling, those she kissed and touched, at least the ones that he remembered. The spontaneity was so unlike her. This was really impulsivity and as happy as he was that this happened he couldn't keep the alarmed voice in his head from wondering if he had rushed her too soon. Hoping that it was going to be okay, he embraced her warm, soft body closer and kissed her hair again. She responded, molding herself against him, accepting his affection.
It had been a while since he physically ached for a woman like this and he wasn't mentally prepared when Hermione, sensing his urgency and obliging hers, asked that they make love. He wasn't prepared either for their first one to be as intense. Hermione's response to his touch was absolutely envigorating and their physical connection brought them to a level of complete intimacy he had not had with anyone before. Not to compare or complain but it was never like that with Ginny and he figured out what it was that made it so different.
To Hermione he was just Harry and seeing him through her eyes like this was refreshing. With her he felt a sense of security that no matter what he did he could do no wrong and that if he did do something wrong it wouldn't change anything between them. There was nothing she could do that would make him shun her either. With her he was more himself than he had ever been with anyone else, she had seen him at his best and at his worst, and it was this absence of worry of rejection that made him experience lovemaking of a different sort. They were caring partners, equals, each in it for the other and for themselves, giving and taking without strings, without condition. It didn't escape him how unique Hermione would forever be in his life this way.
His heartbeat quickened as he was suddenly hit by a mind blowing epiphany.
Without condition…
Forever…
He took a deep breath and held it in to help steady the banging against his chest. The questions and doubts paraded before him one at a time. It wasn't possible; it was too soon. It certainly wasn't what he expected it would look or feel like. And it couldn't be that obvious because if it were he would have seen it before.
But what if it was indeed obvious and he just never acknowledged it? What if loving her truly was possible this soon and this was it?
The thought frightened him for a split second and he cursed himself for it. What the hell was wrong with him? Wasn't this the point in asking her to go out with him? To find out exactly how he felt about her? So it took less time to find the answer than he anticipated it would take but at least he didn't have to wonder anymore. This was a good thing, wasn't it?
That calmed him down enough to realize why it momentarily terrified him. He instinctively didn't want to get hurt. That she was his 'unconditional and forever' and he wasn't hers was scary. It was terrifying because letting go of her when the time came was going to be a bitch. Her voice rang clearly in his head, conscience-like.
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?
Hermione was brilliant in a lot of ways. She had foreseen this and even warned him that this could happen. She found him attractive, sure, but he was mature enough to know that that didn't count for much. And while this wasn't a game for either of them; she honestly admitted that she didn't love him, not in the way that she knew true love to be. He hadn't fully comprehended what she meant about getting hurt until now.
Taking in another breath he let her essence fill him and took his own advice. It would be fine. If he got hurt it would be unintentional on her part and he could live with that. He would take this memory of her with him over how hurt he would be when he lost her anytime and they could go back to being just friends. What was that worn out cliche? It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? He could already imagine her walking down the church aisle as he watched from the sidelines, a faceless bloke waiting for her up at the altar. How could something that far off hurt already?
Surprisingly he felt that her willingly being in his arms right now was enough and it was going to be enough if it was all she could give him. Tonight with her was one moment he wasn't ever going to forget.
Briefly he considered confessing again but decided against it. Now was not the time. In his gut he knew it would be wrong to tell Hermione about it without iron clad proof. She had a hard enough time believing that he fancied her and there was no way he could prove to her tonight that he cared about her more than he originally thought. He could hear her now, telling him he was imagining things just because they had amazing sex. Worse, he might scare her off or pressure her into feeling the same way for him. She'd probably feel sorry for him too.
Great...
No, he couldn't tell her just like that. His words would ring hollow. She would demand tangible evidence and although he wasn't even sure what that proof was (considering she didn't believe in the 'measure of ifs'), he was sure he needed time. He needed lots of time for her to warm up to the idea to even consider it possible. Maybe if he was lucky they'd stay together long enough to get to that point when he could tell her and she would believe him. Maybe she could even grow to love him the same way back. A bloke could hope, right?
All this thinking about her stirred something in him again, something that was kind of the same except more meaningful with this newborn emotion. He drew her in, caressing her and staking a claim to her body, however miniscule and possibly temporal it was. Intuitively she huddled closer, opening herself up, welcoming his advance, but to him it wasn't enough. He nuzzled the length of her bare neck, peppering her with light kisses. He could do this all night, everyday, for the rest of eternity, if she would let him.
"Harry..."
"Uh-huh," he murmured lost against her smooth sweet skin.
"Perhaps you shouldn't start something you won't be able to finish," she reminded him in her all-knowing tone.
"I know," he admitted, agony in his voice. He almost misfired during the last one and didn't want to tarnish tonight with a less than perfect 'performance', "But I can't help myself."
"Do you need my help?" she asked with a hint of laughter in her voice.
"Like you helped the last time?" he chuckled, remembering what happened earlier, "I don't think so. Just let me do this for a bit. I think I'll be fine."
She turned and faced him, a naughty smirk on her face as she kissed him, keeping his now idle mouth preoccupied.
"Are you sure?" she said on his lips, nipping at it, driving him insane, "You know I don't mind helping."
She pressed herself up against him, and gave him another long, deep, lingering kiss. It was intoxicating; she was intoxicating.
"You're so not helping..." he complained as she continued to snog him senseless.
"No?"
Her playfulness made him want her more and they kissed until they were both breathless. He had her on him now, her legs straddling him as he held her gently by the waist, and she was brushing up against his aroused state, in her eyes, a deep brown at that exact moment, the same intense longing he felt for her. Like his, it was more than desire. It wasn't mere want but a need.
She guided him into her tight most warmness and rode him while he watched, the mix of the light from the fire and the moon illuminating her bare skin, blushing from their heated exchange and making her glow like a goddess. His natural reactions took over, his body responding to her sliding him in and out of her hot wet center, and it took all his remaining will power to contain himself, to wait. And it was well worth the wait.
On her last downward motion she arched her back, her face shining like ray of light, her walls contracting around him. She was biting down on her lower lip, muffling her scream. He had never seen anything more beautiful as she came, losing herself. Seeing her without control over him this way did him in. He reached his peak and as he did he felt her have another.
He knew at that moment that his heart would belong to her forever.
She slumped over him, burying her face on his neck, more breathless than he was, her chest pounding rapidly against his. He stroked her back and kissed her hair lovingly.
"Did you enjoy that?" he joshed, smile on his face just about permanent now.
She looked up still dazed, flushed and embarrassed somewhat, smiling, "I'm sorry, I didn't think you would mind."
"Oh I don't mind. I enjoyed it too," he reassured her.
Carefree and absolutely happy, he gazed into her hazel nut eyes and felt her joy shine through them. Seeing that strengthened his resolve not to ruin this for her. Figuring it out and calling it by whatever name wasn't going to change the fact that she was with him and he was with her. This was perfect in itself.
He felt her heart gradually slow down as she lay beside him, arms draped lightly across his body, her head resting against his chest.
Without looking she up asked, "Why did you bring me here? I mean aside from this place being beautiful and trying to stack the deck in your favour."
"I wasn't stacking the deck," he denied.
"If you say so," she said, not really buying it. It was silly to continue denying what was somewhat true. She asked again, "Why this place? Why not Grimmauld?"
He looked around and thought for a moment before answering. While he did hope the beauty of the place would swing things his way that wasn't the main reason why he chose it. He wanted to be honest.
"Because this place witnessed the first time I decided who you were to me. I had to come back to tell it and prove to it that what I said then wasn't true anymore. You know, make a new declaration, exorcise demons in the process."
"Have all the demons been exorcised?"
He glanced behind Hermione at the spot where the Riddle versions of him and her kissed, deciding that such a detail was not for tonight (or maybe, not ever). The purity of what they just shared expunged and cleansed all the evil that manifested there five years ago.
"Most definitely," he replied with certainty.
"Good."
Her foot rubbed against his lightly again and moments later, he fell asleep.
A few hours passed. Harry woke up as she stirred in his arms. It was still dark out, darker now that the fire beside them had died down. With a quick flick of a wand he re-kindled it and watched her watch him.
They lay quietly for some time, facing each other, gazing into each other's eyes. Behind her calm exterior she was happy, happy and anxious and maybe a tad scared. It made him feel a lot better knowing that they felt the same way.
"Thinking about backing out yet?" he asked.
She shook her head, "You?"
"Not a chance."
He brushed a stray brown strand off her radiant face and leaned in. They kissed, long and sweet.
"I'm scared," she admitted honestly, holding his hand.
"So am I," he shared.
"I keep thinking this is a dream."
"A good one, I hope."
"The best I've had in a long while," she smirked, her words making him smile, "I don't want to wake up."
"You know what's even better? You're not dreaming. You don't have to wake up."
Then he showed her how real this all was. He kissed her again, taking her in his arms. She melted in his embrace, encouraging him that what he was doing was right. It took a lot of effort to pull away from her. He rolled onto his back but she joined him and laid herself along the length of his body. He had no energy or desire to tell her how she was driving him mad.
"Do you want to talk about terms now? Maybe that will help me get my mind off its current pre-occupation."
"Terms?"
"You said you had terms; about dating each other."
"Oh...yes...the terms."
He had to chuckle. She was obviously just about to make them up on the fly.
Harry noticed something, "Not to question your sense of fairness but perhaps we should bargain from a more neutral position."
She looked down on him, teasing, "But I would have thought this position was actually more advantageous for you."
"Is that so? Terms Granger. I know what you're trying to do so stop stalling."
"There's just two really," she carried on, knowing perfectly well her uncharacteristic lack of preparedness was evident.
"Just two?" he feigned disappointment, "I expected a lot more."
"Wait till you hear what they are," she paused and said to him, "First, I think we should take this slowly."
They burst out laughing. They were laughing so hard they had tears in their eyes.
"It's a bit too late for that, don't you think?" he commented.
Much too late.
"I knew it was a bad idea to talk terms after," she cracked, unable to maintain a poker face, "I guess we should slow down then."
"I'm sorry but I can't make promises. My self control near you isn't very good," he confessed.
And proving it, his right hand was now re-exploring her bare thigh. He lightly traced its length up the smooth path to where it ended.
"Harry, don't…"
He watched her breath hitch as he slipped two fingers into her hot inner core.
"You were saying?"
"We…um…should slllooow…down…"
"Do you mean this slow?" he asked, showing her, fiddling with her highly sensitive flesh the same time he slid his fingers in and out of her.
She moaned something, then his name, then some unrecognizable expletive.
"Or maybe faster? Like this?"
Hermione buried her face into his neck, crushing her mouth roughly against him. Sleep had energized him; his arousal, seeing her this way and feeling her this way, was almost unbearable. But he was intent for this one to be just about her.
He rolled her over, grabbed her wrists and held them over her head as he ravaged her body until she was limp and disoriented. Working down the middle of her chest, he tasted soft, hot, flesh along the way, inching lower until he came upon his intended destination. Her legs parted readily for him as he kissed her in her most private place, licking her wet folds, gently sucking her until she came not so discreetly, shuddering as the ripples of pleasure overcame her. His work there was done. He took her and held her in his arms.
"I take it that wasn't exactly what you meant by slowing down?" he teased.
"Prat," she called him lovingly, still flushed and breathless, her eyes half-closed as she embraced him back.
Harry wished for this to never end.
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A/N. Hot enough?