1. Harry's Perspective

Title: Without You, There is Nothing

Author: gphoenix51

Category: Action/Romance/Humor

Rated: NC-17 for Violence, Sexual Themes, Sex Scenes, and Naughty Language…lots of Naughty Language

Pairings: Main: Harry/Hermione, Neville/Luna

Slight: Harry/Luna, Hermione/Ron

Spoilers: Books 1-5, because the series mysteriously ended after book 5.

Disclaimer: All products, movies, music, TV shows, comic books, novels, and any other Brand Names are the properties of their specific companies. All Harry Potter characters and places belong to JKR. All original work and characters in this story are copyrighted by me, gphoenix51© 2008-2009. Severe Ginger Bashing ahead!

Summary: Harry Potter has won the war, but hasn't won the girl. He may be the most powerful Wizard in the world, but his power is helpless to save the woman he loves from a loveless relationship. Will Hermione ever escape Ron and be with the man she's destined to be with?

Without You, There is Nothing

Chapter 1 - Harry's Perspective

Harry Potter wasn't what you'd call a normal guy. For one, he could use magic. Not just use it, but command it. Because of his destiny, because of what he'd learned and how he'd learned it, Harry Potter could make magic do what he wanted it to do. Without a wand, without incantations, he just commanded his magic to do what he needed it to do. Harry hadn't actually carried his Holly and Phoenix Core wand for years; it was hanging in its place of honor in his trophy room at Black Manor, along with Sirius' wand. Riddle's snapped wand was there as well, sealed in a case that only he could see.

Now, that kind of power and ability would give many people out there what they needed to hurt others, maybe even become the next Dark Lord. Which would require another Prophecy and another scar headed person to beat their ass. Like Harry did. But the fact that he was probably the most powerful wizard in the world and could rule it with little trouble never crossed his mind, he just didn't think that way. Besides, ruling the world would be a complete bitch and take up entirely too much of his time.

But, for all his power, for all his abilities, money, status, and loads of other things he got saddled with before and after Riddle's defeat, there was one thing he was missing. The one thing magic couldn't do, was get the woman he loved to notice him as anything other than her best friend in all the world. Well, magic could do that; it could make her love him. But what that would require was so repugnant, so indecent, that Harry would rather kill himself in very unique and startling ways than even contemplate it. So, for all intents and purposes, magic was worthless in this situation.

About as worthless as the “man” (and Harry used that term very loosely) she was currently with. Supposedly his other friend, his “best mate”, his Quidditch buddy, his first magical friend his own age. Truthfully, Harry hadn't actually been Ron's friend for quite sometime. And it wasn't when Ron started dating the woman Harry loved either. Lots of people would probably think that would be the perfect time to start disliking his best mate. No, Harry was actually happy for them, as happy as he could be of course. Harry would rather be the one escorting the beautiful brown and brown witch around the city. He'd rather be the one who took her on candlelit dates, to wine and dine her.

But no, that wasn't his pleasure to have. It wasn't Harry that was supposed to make Hermione Jane Granger blush with delight, wasn't Harry that was allowed to see her in various states of undress, wasn't Harry that was allowed to please her in ways that only two people in love were supposed to please one another. It wasn't Harry who was allowed to show her how much he loved her. No, Harry James Potter, The Conqueror of the Dark Lord, (or whatever other stupid ass title they had branded him with lately), the man who loved Hermione Granger with everything he had in him, wasn't supposed to feel that way about her. Wasn't supposed to want to be with her as more than her best friend, as more than anything but complete innocence. Simply because his other friend had liked her first, and Harry privately thought if he ever met the guy (had to be a guy, no woman would be that stupid, cept maybe Ginny) who created that rule; he'd happily drag that asshole into the street and shoot him in the face.

But Harry did love Hermione; he had been in love with Hermione since their 5^th year at Hogwarts. “Alright, 4^th year if you want to get technical about it, but I hadn't really acknowledged it then.” He gripped mentally. Unfortunately, he didn't ever think Hermione would see him as anything but her best friend, and when he'd noticed how Ron had felt about her, he decided he didn't want to interfere with that. If Ron was the one who could make her happy, then he'd step back. He'd stay out of their way. He wouldn't try to break them up, fight for her or anything else done in the movies. He'd be happy for her, and suffer the shards of his broken heart in silence.

Harry had tried to forget her of course, first with Cho Chang, which at been an unqualified disaster. Then, dating Luna Lovegood in his 6^th and 7^th year and beyond. “Ahh Luna, I actually thought she could make me forget Hermione. And she did, for a while.” He thought wistfully. Luna and Harry had a special connection; before they even knew each other. Luna was the only one who had believed him, without question or suspicion, about the thestrals in 5^th year. Even Hermione couldn't claim that, but Harry figured it was because she hadn't ran across them yet in her books, otherwise she'd have known what he was talking about. Harry was one of the few people who listened to Luna talking about “supposedly” imaginary creatures without insulting or ignoring her. He actually found it endearing, she believed in strange things yes, but she believed them strongly. And she was loyal to those beliefs, and that loyalty was evident in the rest of her life. She simply had a different outlook on life; no one had or could conclusively prove those things didn't exist, so Luna thought there was no harm in believing they did exist.

Course, those supposedly “strange and imaginary” creatures suddenly became much less imaginary when he and Luna had actually found a Crumple Horned Snorkack, several of them in fact. They weren't in Sweden, they'd found them in the mountains of China. And it wasn't a large creature as Luna had previously thought. It looked to be a normal sized bunny rabbit, though it was covered in fur that could change colors according to its mood and surroundings. Not to mention the horn, most of the ones they had found in the colony had horns about three inches long. It was only after they found them that Harry realized her Patronus wasn't a Hare like he always thought, it was a Snorkack, and he'd just never noticed the small horn on its head. Course, they're were usually Dementors around trying to kill them at the time, so he had an excuse. He had never seen her so happy, especially when she had managed to coax a few of these rare creatures to come with her and she still raised them in her own colony.

Luna was also the only one who had heard the voices in the Death Chamber, at the Arch where his beloved Godfather, Sirius Black, had met his end at the hand of his demented cousin. When the war had hit full swing, and it was the four of them on the front lines, Harry had quite enjoyed hunting that bitch down and avenging Sirius.

But, even his connection with the beautiful, smart and almost perfect Luna Lovegood, couldn't compare to his unbreakable bond with Hermione. If it hadn't been for the fact that he was in love with Hermione, Harry would have actually been very happy with Luna for a very long time, the rest of his life in fact. They had both tried, they dated for years. Lots of people thought they were going to be married. But, there was something missing between them. Some spark, some snap that they didn't have. And while they were mostly happy, they weren't completely happy. Luna had felt the bond Harry had with Hermione. Had eventually realized that if she couldn't replace it, if she couldn't make Harry completely happy, then only one person could. And she was going out with Ron. One thing that Harry had been obscenely pleased about was how well the breakup between them had gone.

Luna had taken Harry aside after their last date, when they retired to Black Manor, and laid it all out for him. How she had tried to help him forget his best friend, at least, tried to get him to stop chasing her when she was apparently happy with Ron. How Luna had cared too much for Harry to see him pining away for something he may never get. But she knew that he'd never be truly happy unless he was with Hermione. Harry had come clean too, how he had tried desperately to forget his feelings for Hermione. How he had tried to lose himself in Luna, and how it had worked for a time. He had been genuinely happy with her, had really wanted it to work. But, there was something missing between the two of them, some connection, some bond that they'd never have. Because Harry already had it with Hermione Granger. Luna had also confessed to him that she hadn't felt a bond with him either. He really did love Luna, loved her enough that he couldn't keep her in a relationship when she wasn't completely happy. Luna had agreed, she loved Harry too, but if he couldn't be completely happy with her, then it couldn't work in the long run, and they should end it and stay friends.

After making love one last time, Harry and Luna had split amicably. About six months later, she had started dating Neville Longbottom, and last he heard from both his former DA allies and good friends, they were exceedingly happy together, and Luna had told him privately that she found her bond with him. Harry was insanely happy for his friends; he knew that Neville would treat his ex-girlfriend and still damn good friend Luna very well, and more important, he could make Luna truly happy. That's all that mattered to Harry, he may not love Luna romantically anymore, but he loved her as a good friend and wanted her to be happy. But now…Harry was alone.

So, here he was, kicked back in a rather upscale Muggle club, dressed in his black on black suit jacket, silk shirt and slacks, his Doc Marten boots crossed under the table, stirring his almost empty Coke with his tattooed right hand while his left arm was slung around the back of his chair, bouncing his head to the beat of the music and easily ignoring all the glances and come hither stares he got from the various club girls around the room. He could have had his pick from any of them. All it would have taken was a wink and a slight tilt of his head, and he'd have at least three of them in his lap in an instant. “That is, if I was Draco fucking Malfoy and that big of a fucking git bastard.” Harry mentally snarled.

He wasn't stupid; he'd have to be blind to not notice the fairly ravenous looks directed his way from some of the girls gyrating around them. He would have loved to get up and dance with a few of the ladies, an activity he quite enjoyed now. But past experience told him that they'd take it as more than just wanting to dance. He had never, never once in his 21 or so years, ever used his looks, fame or fortune that way. Had never and would never take advantage of any woman that way. Had only ever been intimate with one woman period. It had taken a long time before he and Luna had been comfortable enough to take their relationship to the next level, and Harry knew then that he just couldn't be intimate with a stranger. And while Luna had praised his technique and ability, as he had hers, he never felt the need to “practice” with any other woman. He'd just never been the type to just go nail some random girl to try and forget Hermione.

“Like another Coke hun? Or something stronger maybe?” The waitress asked him, a bouncy redhead (in more ways than one). She smiled at him and gave him a saucy wink, Harry mentally rolled his eyes. “God, save me…”

“Thanks, I'll have another one, you two want anything?” Harry asked his tablemates. Hermione ordered another virgin daiquiri and Ron got another bourbon, his fifth of the night. The beauty queen pretending to be a waitress winked at Harry again and walked off. Well, you couldn't call it a “walk” exactly, not with the way her hips were swishing back and forth. Harry could tell this was what their waitress was doing because most of the male eyes (and some of the female ones) around them were following the movements of her ass in her tight jeans.

He didn't care about the other people around them, but he greatly cared about how Ron was practically drooling on the table watching her. “Bastard has the most beautiful, most intelligent, and sexiest woman in the fucking world on his arm, and he can't stop staring at the waitress' ass while she was busy making eyes at me. Christ, it's like a fucking Shakespeare tragedy, this is.” Harry mentally rolled his eyes again, along with a deep, suffering sigh. It was always like this when they went out, Ron couldn't keep his eyes off the club girls, and Hermione pined for his attention all night. And Harry just sat there, the immobile statue, paralyzed from making a move, all because he was too fucking noble to just fight for the hand of the woman he loved.

“Damn Harry, she's a looker! You should definitely go after that one.” Ron said, finally taking his eyes off the aforementioned looker's ass. Harry finished off his Coke and looked piercingly at Ron, which would have had him flinching if he wasn't mostly pissed already.

“Sorry Ron, not interested.” said Harry, flatly. He really, really, was getting sick and tired with people trying to hook him up with another girl. He hadn't had a relationship since Luna, and only the two of them knew why. No one else did, of course. “Can't let that slip out of the bag, might get what we want then, and we can't have that, can we Mr. Potter?” his inner voice silkily whispered to him. Harry told his inner voice to get stuffed.

“Too bad mate, she really is hot.” Ron said, ignoring the hottest girl in the room who was already sitting at his side, which was seriously starting to piss Harry off. He also decided not to mention that any and all chances of him being attracted to any redhead period, went up in flames with Ginny and her crush. One that had pushed her to amazingly low tactics to try and bed him. The topper was the Love and Lust potion combo he discovered in his drink near the end of 6^th year. As if he hadn't had enough on his plate with Riddle and his cronies running rampant in the country side, killing and torturing anyone they came across.

Nope, apparently he also had to deal with the insane crush of one Ginny Weasley. Fed, no doubt by Molly Weasley's “One Big Happy Weasley Family” bollocks. After her last attempt to snare the “Great Harry Potter”, Luna (bless her) had taken the young redhead aside and put the fear of God into her. He never could get Luna to tell him exactly what she said to the little bitch, but whatever it was, worked. Ginny wouldn't come near Luna or himself after that. Harry had shown Luna his gratitude by fucking her senseless in the Room of Requirement, her screaming his name the whole time. It always brought a wistful smile to his face, like now.

“I know that smile, you're thinking about Luna again aren't you? Well, she's taken mate, by Neville of all people.” Ron said, in the loud, happy voice only drunks seem to get. “Which was a perfect, perfect, gorramn mood killer.” Harry thought as the smile slid off his face and clattered to the floor.

“You really should try to get over Luna, Harry. She's happy with Neville now.” Hermione said, her voice low and soothing. He gave his best friend a half grin and patted her hand, expecting, and receiving, the familiar jolt of electricity every time he touched her.

Completely ignoring Ron, Harry spoke to Hermione. “I know she is Mione, and I'm very happy for her. I am. Believe me, I'm not trying to get her back, or just sit and pine for her. If Neville makes her happy, then I'm happy for the both of them.” Harry rattled his empty glass and popped some ice in his mouth.

Swallowing the crushed ice, he gave her a huge wink and said, “Besides, if Nev does hurt her, he won't live long enough to realize the horrible mistake he made.” Harry said, only half kidding. He knew Nev wouldn't mistreat Luna, but the threat of a fate worse than Riddle's if he did, never hurt. Hermione huffed and slapped his arm, which brought a bigger grin to Harry's face. He loved it when she did that, it was so damn cute.

Then, the waitress showed up and handed out their drinks while collecting the empties, bending over and giving Harry an obscenely good view down her loose top. She was more than slightly put out when she realized Harry wasn't paying her a lick of attention. He was instead focused on the brown haired woman who herself was focusing a glare at her boyfriend's blatant stare at the waitress' tight, denim covered bum, and apparently the whale tail she was sporting.

In offering her goods to Harry, she had inadvertently put her ass right in Ron's face. And, being the git he was, couldn't help himself and had a closer look. Seeing this, Harry wondered why in the hell it always seemed that the assholes got the girl, Neville being the exception. Harry, none too gently, kicked Ron under the table. He started and almost spilled his bourbon.

Looking rather pissed, Ron said “Bloody Hell mate! What was that for?”

Harry ignored that question and instead asked, “Ron, don't you think you've had enough of those? Won't Fred and George be a little whiffed that you're hungover at the shop tomorrow? If you end up selling another box of Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs at below market price, they'll make you the product tester for their Skiving Snackbox Mark II's.” He said, knowing full well what new products the Twins were working on, being their silent partner.

At this, Ron drunkenly threw an arm around Hermione and jerked her toward him. Her daiquiri would have been all over the pair of them had Harry not commanded a stasis field around it. Hermione knew what he had done, and silently thanked him with her eyes. Harry gave her a half wink and slight nod. Tearing them out of their moment was Ron's voice.

“Aw, don't worry about it Harry. Hermy here can brew up an anti-hangover potion in no time. Can't ya luv?” Ron slurred. Hermione turned red at her hated nickname. Apparently, Ron had never gotten the hint that she hated the name Hermy, not only did it make her sound like she was five years old, but it was also the only part of her name that Grawp could say and that still brought back bad memories. Strangely enough, Hermione never seemed to have a problem with Harry's nickname for her. He called her Mione because it had just popped into his head one day and stuck. He thought it was for two reasons he liked calling her that, the first was it sounded more dignified and mature, like she was. And the other, more private reason, was that if you dropped the “o”, every time he said “Mione”, he was really saying “Mine”, which is what Harry wanted her to be. His, his girl, the woman he loved. But she wasn't, and it stuck in his craw that she'd rather be with that drunken git than with him. But…it was her choice, and he wouldn't begrudge her that or get in their way. Which is why, other than the occasional banter and surreptitious touches, he never showed his true feelings for her.

“I might just leave you in pain, Ronald Weasley, if you ever call me that name again.” She said, extremely annoyed.

Ron ignored her, which was par for the course. “Harry, I don't understand why you never drink anything stronger than those Muggle softy drinks. The bourbon here is great!”

Harry sighed “Because Ron, I never could abide the taste of alcohol. Occasionally, at special functions, fine. But I've never liked it enough to want to drink it all the time.” He put a special emphasis on the last three words. Harry didn't know if it was his red hair, or just his Weasley constitution, but Ron was a hard drinker. He wasn't a drunk (yet), but when he did drink, he always drank himself into a stupor, which he was quickly on the way to now. Harry knew, in a few minutes, Hermione would have to carry his ass back to their flat, and he would miss any time he could spend with her, on one of the few nights they had off together. Harry being Auror Captain and Hermione being part of the Auror Medical Corps, on loan from St. Mungo's, they saw plenty of each other at work, but didn't have time for anything but work at those instances. Which is why Harry treasured their days off together, so he could actually spend time with her. “Pleasurable Torture” he liked to call it. It was wonderful to be close to her, to spend time with her, but hated being so far away from her.

Ron suddenly stood up and said, rather loudly and oh so eloquently, “I gotta hit the bog.” And drunkenly stumbled off in that direction. Harry sighed loudly and rubbed his eyes, thankful for two things. That Ron was finally out of his hair for a few moments, and that he'd dumped those horrible glasses Vernon and Petunia had saddled him with. In 6^th year, he began getting blinding headaches, and while he first thought they were related to Riddle, Hermione and Luna had finally figured out it was because his glasses needed to be updated. How out of date his glasses were they didn't know until they'd visited the Eye Healer in Diagon Alley. Turned out, his prescription was so out of date, the Healer had been amazed Harry could even see, and wasn't surprised at all at his stupendous migraines.

Severely pissed, Harry went all out and got the most expensive set of contacts the Healer had ever sold. They had several features, they were self cleaning and self lubricating; and never had to be removed ever again. They ran off his magical core, could only be taken out if he ever said the release word, and he paid extra for them to auto update as well; they changed as his prescription changed. In fact, it was thanks to those contacts that he had been able to see Ginny's Love Tonic Spike in his drink. It was one of the many features for sale, to spot poisons and potions in drinks and food. Harry had bought every one of the features they had, wanting every edge he could get.

“Thank God for that.” Harry said. He heard a soft sigh and looked up to see Hermione looking wistfully at him. As soon as he made eye contact with her, she turned away, trying to hide her blush, but he saw it anyway. Seeing something in her eyes, Harry tried for humor.

“Remind me again why we go out with that drunken pillock?” Harry asked, a half grin on his face. But Hermione didn't smile.

“Because he's your friend and my boyfriend, and because if he went out alone, he'd never find his way back.” She sighed.

Feeling bold, Harry leaned closer and said, “Would that be so bad though?” he asked quietly. Hermione looked at him, and he could see the sadness in her eyes, the longing, and it made his heart break. Harry had never quite seen that look in her eyes before, and it pushed him farther.

“Why do you do this to yourself Hermione? Why him? With the way he treats you? The way you two argue all the time? Why? How?” Harry said, his inner wonderings bursting free. He'd never asked those questions before, especially never that bluntly and he suddenly realized he might have just crossed a line. Trying to think of someway to repair the damage, Harry frantically tried to say something. But Hermione beat him to it.

“That's a terrible thing to say about your best…” she said quietly, but Harry cut across her.

“He's not my best friend Hermione, you are my best friend! He is just a friend, and sometimes I wonder if he's even that!” Harry burst out angrily. Hermione looked shocked at his outburst.

“Harry…”

“The way he treats you, the way he ignores you. How do you put up with it? Why do you put up with it?” Harry said, the anger in him building.

“It's not as simple as that.” She said.

“Then what is it? What is it that makes you stay with him? You're too smart to have missed him checking out half the girls in this club, while ignoring you.” He said, anger etching his voice.

“Well, maybe he can't help it, they are prettier than…” Hermione started, but Harry slapped the table between them, hard. It sounded like a gunshot, but lost to most of the crowd in the blasting of the club music.

“That's fucking bullshit Hermione; you are the prettiest, hottest and sexiest girl in this place, and every other place. If he has problems keeping his eyes on you, he needs to get the fucking things checked, because apparently he's gone blind.” Harry said, instinctively saying what he'd always kept hidden. His anger was pushing him farther than he'd ever gone before. Hermione's hand crept up to her mouth, which was in the cutest “o” shape. Her cheeks were red, this time a blush of embarrassment and obvious pleasure. Apparently the git didn't tell her the truth often enough.

Before she could even begin to form a response, there was a commotion somewhere behind her. Harry's combat instincts, honed to a fine razor edge in the war, then polished to an even sharper sheen in the Auror Corps, tracked and assessed the problem. Using his contacts, he zoomed in on the disturbance. Three men were accosting another at the bar. A tall blonde woman was standing off to the side, her face scarlet with anger, looking at the single man with absolute loathing. Harry snarled when he recognized the familiar shock of red hair.

“It's Ron, isn't it?” Hermione said quietly. His eyes met hers and she knew the answer, she could see it in his emerald eyes. Her hand slid across the table to grasp his, “Help him, Harry. Please? I know you don't want to, but help him.”

Harry never could deny Hermione anything, and it had gotten worse after he fell in love with her. His gaze met hers; he nodded once, squeezed her hand and said two words that sent shivers down her spine.

“For You.”

Harry stood up and reflexes honed on the Quidditch Pitch and battlefield allowed him to quickly make it over to Ron. The three men were facing Harry, and Ron was slowly backing away. Shifting into Auror mode, Harry clapped his hand hard on the drunken redhead's shoulder.

His authoritative voice boomed out. “This man causing you three gentlemen trouble?” Harry said, trying to pass himself off as a bouncer. His black suit jacket, black button up shirt and black slacks were similar to what they were wearing, plus the tattoo on his hand and the other end of it curling around his neck helped, so maybe it would work. Ron tried to splutter something out, but Harry's grip tightened hard on the nerves in his shoulder and he went quiet.

“Yeah, this GIT was feeling up my girl!” Said the shorter one, in a thick Cockney accent.

“Bastard ain't got no right!” said his taller friend, a deep Irish accent, clouded in anger.

“I dunna care if'n he is drunk, he shouldn't be touchin' the lady!” Very, very thick Scottish brogue on this one.

“I agree with you gentlemen, I'm sorry Miss. I'll toss him and his grabby hands out. Please enjoy yourselves and have a round on me.” Harry snagged the closest waitress and whispered in her ear to give these 4 people a round and put it on his tab at the table Hermione was at. She swished off to fill the order. The guys looked pleased, though they still glowered at Ron. Harry tipped an invisible hat at the lady, who blushed. Leading Ron around by the scruff of his neck, they weren't but 3 feet away when it all went to Hell.

“Fuckin' whore! Shouldn't have your ass sticking out like that then, if you didn't want a pinch!” Ron yelled out, almost tripping over himself. Harry could hear the footsteps of three, very pissed off men moving toward them, closing fast. Hoping to diffuse the situation, and really, really wanting to break his face for that remark, Harry hauled Ron around and punched him dead in the face. He went out like a crushed light bulb and crumpled to the floor. But apparently, the three men wanted to do that themselves and were even more pissed that Harry took away their fun.

So, of course, they turned on Harry.

“Son of a bitch!” he snarled.

Irish came in high and outside, leading with a punch like a boxer. Harry caught his wrist, then twisted and locked it tight. Irish grunted as he felt his wrist lock, then screamed as Harry answered with a flat palm to his eye. He fell away, cradling his face and screaming. Cockney bellowed like a bull and charged Harry, who pivoted on his right leg and spun, bringing his left boot heel up to connect with his face. Harry heard and felt the crack as it connected and Cockney was flung into another table, crushing it with his weight. Scottish headed in, along with Irish, who had stopped screaming at was looking at Harry with murderous rage, his left eye severely bloodshot. Sensing the floor clear behind him, Harry waited for them to get in range and then back flipped, bringing his legs up fast. Both of his booted feet connected with their jaws, knocking them both to the ground and sending them to dream land. Harry snap kicked himself back to standing and fell into a ready combat stance, waiting for the next attack.

It never came. The three men were out, sprawled on the floor in heaps. Harry straightened his jacket and then roughly pulled Ron to his feet. He dragged his limp form out the front door of the club and threw him in the gutter, asking the bouncer outside to watch him and to call him a cab if he wasn't back out in 20 minutes, throwing the guy a hundred pound note for the trouble and a fifty for the cabbie. Walking back into the club, he was assaulted by a screaming, bouncing blonde. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he tried to calm her down. Finally having to shake her a bit to get her to get her attention, Harry told her how sorry he was, that he happened to agree with her friends and that no woman deserved to be groped like that. He apologized again and asked her to call them an ambulance and to send him the hospital bill, handing her his card with his Muggle info and post office box on it. Heading back inside, he talked to the bartender and, finding out he was the owner too, gave him another card and slipped him a couple hundred pounds. Saying he'd gladly pay for the damages and a free round for the entire club, also paying for his own tab.

“Now, all I need is Hermione and we can get out of this fucking place.” He thought. Looking around for his best friend, he started when she tapped him on the shoulder. She was standing right behind him; her face was red with embarrassment.

“How long have you been following me? Harry asked, slightly annoyed with himself that he never once sensed her. But, he'd long ago acknowledged the blind spot he had where she was concerned.

“Since you got up from the table.” She said simply. “Harry, I'm so…” He held up his hand, stopping her.

“Don't, Hermione. Not for him. Don't ever for him. He's not worth it.” Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes again, “Come on, we better get him out of the street and take his stupid ass home.” He ushered her outside.

“Hey man, your friend is still out.” The bouncer said.

“Must be all the booze, I didn't hit him that hard.” Harry lied, blocking Ron from view while Hermione cast a diagnostic charm on him. He'd actually put quite a bit of force in that punch and he hoped he broke the asshole's jaw.

“You popped him? What'd he do?” the bouncer asked, surprised.

“He felt up a lady at the bar. She didn't like it, neither did her pissed off boyfriend, or his two equally pissed off buddies. I had everything under control till he opened his stupid mouth and claimed she wanted it. I thought punching him out would take care of it, but apparently not. Had to take them out too, ambulance should be here in a few minutes to pick them up.” Harry said nonchalantly, bending over to grab Ron up and toss him over his shoulder. A feat he wouldn't have been able to accomplish if it hadn't been for his training.

“Damn white boy, remind me to offer you a job next time you come by, and not to piss you off.” The bouncer laughed, his white teeth showed clearly against his mahogany skin.

Harry laughed too, then shook the bouncer's hand. “Don't go feeling up any ladies then, unless they tell you otherwise. And thanks, but I already have a job. Keep the fifty; we'll take the git home.” The bouncer's smile widened and he called after them.

“Hey, you're alright man. You and your girl come back anytime, you hear?”

“Thanks, we will.” Harry called back, tossing a wave over his shoulder. His insides jumped, “I only wish she was my girl.” He thought sadly. Harry and Hermione walked to the end of the street. Rounding the corner, and with the coast clear, they silently Apparated to Ron and Hermione's flat.

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Harry popped into existence, looking around the small flat; he adjusted Ron on his shoulder and headed off for their bedroom.

“Have a seat Mione; I'll toss him in bed. Be right back.”

“You don't have to...” She called, but he was already around the corner. Their door was already open, so he just kicked it open all the way. The sight that met his eyes confused and stunned him. Instead of one large bed, there were two smaller beds. “What the hell? Why two beds?” he thought. Weirder still, they were at opposite ends of the room, and Hermione's was closest to the door. Which one belonged to whom was easy to answer, Ron's bed was a complete disaster, the sheets half torn off and crumpled in patches. Hermione's was neat as a pin, precisely made and waiting for her to come back. He wasn't even sure that magic could have made up the bed that well.

While Harry never really bothered making his own bed, (he really saw no point, he was just gonna mess them up again, sleeping there every night) he didn't leave them trashed like Ron did. He was neat, but not too neat. And if they did get too messy, Winky would scold him good naturedly and make them herself, saying he couldn't ever do it right. Sighing, Harry threw Ron on his bed. He then snapped his fingers and conjured a bucket incase the drunk had to puke in the night.

Leaving the room, Harry shut the door and headed down the hall. Walking into the living room, he saw Hermione on the couch, her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking. He could tell she was crying; soft, silent tears. Harry stood there watching her, conflicted. On the one hand, he wanted nothing more than to leap over the couch and hold her in his arms and make her forget that worthless bastard. On the other, no matter how Ron treated her, she was still his girlfriend. Even though Harry really didn't care about Ron's feelings at this point, he knew the guilt would destroy Hermione. Which is why he always stayed away, kept back. Limited his contact with her, because he knew it was always bubbling under the surface, the front he put up, it always was waiting to be set free. And he'd come closer tonight than ever before to doing so.

“I'm sorry Hermione.” It was all he could think of to say. She didn't turn, didn't stop.

“Why Harry?” she said, pure misery in her voice.

“Because I want better for you, because you're my best friend and the person I trust most in this world, and you should have someone who treats you better than a trinket or a trophy. And because it isn't my place to question your motives or anything else about your relationship. It isn't my place and it isn't my business. So…I'm sorry.” Harry actually thought it was his business, since she was his best friend. But he was also very biased, so that made it less his place to question her.

“And I'm sorry I was so short with you earlier. Like I said, it's not my place.” Harry said, his voice emotionless, almost cold. He strapped down his need; his need to protect her, his need to fight for the woman he loved, his need to kick the living shit out of the bastard that didn't deserve her and the need to shake her till she realized what a mistake she was making. “It wouldn't do any good anyway; all I'd do is hurt her.” He thought in misery.

“It's alright, like you said, you only want the best for me. I meant, why does he do this?” She asked, and Harry couldn't take it anymore. He walked around to the couch and sat on the matching ottoman. He took her hands in his and looked into her watery eyes. His heart shattered at the sight of them. He never could stand to see her cry.

“I don't know, Mione. I truly don't. I've never understood why he does the things he does. Why he's so jealous of me, when he knows I'd give it all up in a second to have my parents and Sirius back. Why he argues so much with you, and how he can say he cares so much about you after one of those blowups, when he causes them. Why he drinks so much, especially when he always acts worse after he's wasted, and knows he does. Why he can't keep his hands to himself, and why he can't keep his eyes on the most beautiful woman in the world, especially since she is his girlfriend.” Harry whispered to her, and she flushed again.

“Apparently I'm not, if he has so many problems with showing it or saying it.” She said, and she looked so sad, so hurt, so lost and alone. It broke him, and he couldn't take it anymore. Harry moved off the ottoman and sat next to her, he gently took her face in his hands and spoke, very quietly to her.

“Hermione Jane Granger, you are the most intelligent, the bravest, the strongest, the most powerful, the sexiest and the most beautiful woman in the entire world.” His voice was so quiet, so soft, but she heard every word crystal clear.

“Harry…” She said, her voice a cross between a whisper and a plea. His face moved closer, he was too close, too close to her, too close to her mouth. She could feel his breath on her lips. She knew what was about to happen, knew it and welcomed it. Hermione's eyes fluttered closed, and Harry kissed her.

It was so tender, so soft, but there was so much pent up emotion in his kiss; she thought she might drown in it. His hands moved from her face to cup the back of her neck, his fingers lost in her brown curls, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. His touch was like fire, every soft caress was like electricity, and she moaned. Her own hands were in his hair; how they got there she didn't know or care. God, she loved his hair, so wild, so unruly, so untamable. So Harry.

Hermione tightened her grip in his hair and pulled him closer. “Jesus, if I had known kissing her would be this amazing, I'd have done it sooner, to hell with the consequences.” His lips were locked on hers, rubbing and caressing hers. He was trying to taste every bit of her lips, and it made him want more. Slowly, his tongue reached out and slid along her perfect lips, begging to be let inside. Hermione moaned and eagerly let him in, and he finally tasted her for the first time, and it was Heaven. His tongue slid along hers, caressed it, tasting it. He tasted her teeth, her cheeks, and it wasn't enough. He deepened the kiss, and her hands clenched. One was still in his hair; the other was fisted in his black silk shirt. Harry's hands were still softly and gently cupping her beautiful, flushed face.

Eventually, oxygen became more important than kissing her (for now at least), and Harry pulled back with a gasp. His chest was heaving, trying to pull enough air into his starved lungs. His eyes opened, and fell in love with her all over again. Hermione's face was flushed, her lips were in a perfect “o” shape, her own breath was coming in gasps and shudders. Slowly, her eyes opened, and her chocolate brown eyes met his emerald green ones.

“Dance with me, Harry. Please? Hold me in your arms and dance with me. Please Harry.” She whispered. Hermione wanted him to hold her more than anything. Harry nodded, and then whispered to her the second loveliest sounding words in the world. Three words that were made famous by her favorite movie.

“As You Wish”

And her insides melted.

“Wait here.” He said quietly.

Harry stood quickly, slipping off his suit jacket and tossing it away. If he only had one shot at this, if he only had one chance to prove to her how much he loved her, one chance to prove to her how much he needed her, he was going to pull out all the stops. Moving to her MP3 boom box, he quickly found a slow song they could dance to. (Jordin Sparks ft. Chris Brown - No Air) Turning it on low, he crossed back over to her.

Harry stood before her, then he snapped his heels together, placed his left arm behind his back and held out his right hand and bowed to her. Raising his head, he looked directly into her eyes and her heart stopped beating. Waiting for him to speak.

“Dance with me, My Lady?”

She smiled, a little wobbly smile. Hermione was trying to hold back the tears at how romantic he was, and how long, how so very long she'd waited to be swept off her feet. She said quietly.

“It would be an Honour, Good Sir.”

She slipped her hand into his, and he pulled her up. As Harry brought her perfect hand up, he kissed it, electricity rushing down her arm. He pulled her close, tightly to his chest. Face inches from his. He whispered to her then, softly, and she melted all over again.

“No…the Honour is mine, My Lady.”

Then they moved, slowly turning to the music. They let the soft notes wash over them, move through them. And Harry held her tightly to him, his face was so close to hers he could feel her breath on his lips, and he desperately wanted to taste her again. He held back, he wanted this to be perfect, and he didn't want to jump the gun. She wanted to dance with him, and he would dance with her. So, he settled for nuzzling her nose from time to time, which made her smile.

Hermione reveled at being in Harry's arms; she savored his warmth, his closeness to her. They moved together as if they'd been doing it for years. Their bodies knew the other's language, knew when to step, when to pivot, when to move. It felt like forever, but it still wasn't long enough. The song peaked, and as it crested, Harry spun her away. And as the song hit it's most romantic moment, He pulled her back in close and kissed her. Harry's arms automatically closed around her and held her there.

He'd never, so long as he lived, Harry would never forget the taste of her, the warmth of her body, the feel of her lips against his. No matter what happened between them, He would never, could never, forget this moment.

They lost the rest of the world, wrapped in each other's arms in a passionate embrace. Nothing mattered to her anymore, the only thing she could think of was to keep kissing him, if she ever stopped, she'd surely die. He tasted like her life; he was that thing that had been missing inside her for so long, her entire existence.

Finally, they had to break apart, their lungs had gotten tired of being ignored and decided to suffocate them. Coming back down off the high of kissing her, Harry heard a much different song in the back ground. This one had a different kind of beat; the words were more sensual, more passionate. This song was meant for a much different, much closer kind of dance. Just imagining dancing this song with Hermione made his blood run hot. “She does have this song on her Playlist. I wonder…” (Peter Gabriel - Lay Your Hands On Me)

“Why Mione, I had no idea you listened to this kind of music.” Harry said, his eyebrow raised. She had the grace to blush. Then, apparently coming to a decision, she looked at him, the challenge and something else was shining clearly in her chocolate brown eyes.

“Scared Harry? Don't know how to dance to this kind of music?” She whispered sexily, and he heard something in her voice he'd never heard before, and it sent blood rushing around his body, only to start collecting in a very personal place.

His eyes went wide for a split second, then narrowed, darkening. The look he gave her shot fire through her whole body, and she was aroused in an instant, something that had never happened before.

“Let's find out, Mione.” His voice was a low growl, and the vibrations seemed to travel over every bit of her skin, adding to the flush of her body. His right hand slipped down from her waist to cup her pert ass in the short black pencil skirt of her cocktail dress she was wearing, and she gasped. It brought her into contact with a part of him that was hard, extremely hard. “He's hard for me? He really does think I'm…attractive then.” She didn't think the word she wanted to, she couldn't bring herself to think of herself as sexy, not even in her own thoughts. Harry's left hand slid behind her back and gently gripped the upper part of her left arm. Suddenly he spun her around and slid his right arm around her waist, pulling her in close. Her ass made contact with the hardness in Harry's slacks and she gasped again. His right hand held her close, his fingers sliding down her front, stopping at the very bottom of her flat tummy. His left hand slid down and brought her left hand up and around to his face. Harry kissed her wrist, then sucked where her pulse was beating rapidly. His touch left trails of fire burning across her body, and her arousal deepened. Her breath was coming faster now, feeling how close she was to him, the effect of his clever fingers and tongue was something she'd never experienced, and she could feel her nipples hardening against her dress.

Then, he moved them. He danced with her, moving her body with his own. It was a dance of pure seduction, of passion and longing, the two of them flowed together like water. The contact between their bodies made both feel the fire of arousal, and they both wanted more of it. Hermione was too lost in the sensations flying around inside her to do more than just follow his lead. She was too aware of how close his body was with hers, how close they were when they moved together. She could feel his hard chest pressed into her back, felt the muscles made from the war and from his Auror training. Hermione couldn't keep herself from imagining what he looked like now, without his shirt on, how it would feel to run her nails down his chiseled chest, tracing the lines of his tattoo with her fingers. His hard-on was flush with her ass, pressing between her cheeks. She flushed darker, her breath coming faster. Then…Harry ground into her and she lost it. Hermione whimpered, her head falling back on his chest.

“Oh, yes Harry.”

He had to have lost his mind, there was no other explanation. Not two hours ago, he was bemoaning the fact that he was never, ever gonna have a chance with Hermione. That he was never going to be able to show her how he felt about her. Now, the woman he was madly in love with, the woman he had desired for years and had had several dreams about, most of which resulted with him changing his sheets and taking a cold shower, was finally in his arms. Not only in his arms, but he was dancing so close to her, they might as well be sharing clothing. And then he ground himself into that perfect ass of hers. The friction it caused made his eyes cross. He suddenly thought he might be taking things a bit too far, but those were thrown out the window when she whimpered his name and started pushing back. “Oh Christ, If she keeps that up, I'm gonna rip off all her clothes and damn the consequences.” Harry moaned her name into her ear.

He really couldn't take this anymore; he was starting to lose his upper faculties. All his decisions were coming from below his waist, and it decided the counter in the kitchen was a perfect place to continue this. He quickly moved her over to the bar and bent her over it, her pert ass sticking up in the air. Harry ground himself harder into her, pressing her deeper against the counter, and she moaned, loudly. He needed to feel more skin, needed to see more of her, so he pulled up the skirt of her black dress and exposed her smooth, rounded ass, and he moaned at the sight. “Fuck, if I was an emerald green thong right now, I'd die happy.” The said green thong was up the crack of her ass, riding between her pert cheeks. Tight up against her wetness, that part of her that he was dying to be inside. But not yet. Harry gripped her hot bare hips and rubbed his hard-on against her thong, and she moaned louder.

“God Harry yes…Yes…Harder…”

Harry ground against her harder, the friction making them both insane, they were both moaning, both groaning in the shear delight of what they were doing. His hardness was straining, he had slipped it between her cheeks and rubbed himself up and down, touching her from her asshole to her hot, wet core, and she mewled as he touched her there. Where she'd never been touched before. “By no one but me anyway.” She thought vaguely, before her brain was wiped by an exceptionally hard thrust against her ass. God, she wanted him inside her, she'd never wanted anything so bad in her entire life. But he continued to tease her, rubbing himself against her sopping wet thong. She'd bought the thing thinking of his eyes, secretly indulging in her private fantasy of making love with Harry. But this was another of her fantasies all together, having him take her roughly against the kitchen counter, where anyone could walk in on them. “Where Ron could…” Her entire body froze, along with her arousal. “Ron!” her mind screamed. “I'm still his girlfriend! I'm cheating on him! With HARRY!”

“Harry, stop. Please, I need you to stop now Harry. Oh God.” Harry could barely hear her, and she had moaned as he hit her wet spot again. She had to focus, “He is way too good at this. Damn Luna.” Jealousy reared in her head unexpectedly, but it hadn't been the first time. Desperate to get through to him, she bucked back harder.

“Harry, Stop! You have to stop now! We can't do this! I'm still with Ron!” She whispered harshly to him. The mention of Ron's name turned his hot arousal to ice. Suddenly realizing what she had been saying to him, and what he'd been doing, he threw himself off of her. She quickly pulled her skirt back down and turned to look at him. Harry had a look of pure horror on his face.

“Jesus, Jesus Christ Hermione…I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Goddamn it, I almost…I almost…” Agony was on his face, at the thought of what he had almost done to her.

“No! No Harry you didn't do anything of the sort, and if you keep thinking that way, I'll curse you into oblivion!” She almost screamed it at him, anything to get that look off his face. It was scaring her, what he was doing to himself. Hermione crossed to him and tried to take his face in her hands, but he flinched and moved away. That did hurt her, and she desperately tried to keep from breaking down. She had to help him understand what happened before he did something stupid, like turn himself in to the Aurors. She forced him to stop moving, and took his face in her hands.

“Harry, you listen to me. You did nothing wrong. I wanted you too.” He looked at her, clear disbelief on his face. “I did Harry, believe me. Didn't you hear me moaning your name? I wanted you too. I wanted you to do exactly what you were doing. Please, believe me. I really did. But I forgot, I forgot him, and I'm still his girlfriend. We were both caught up in the moment. But don't you, for one second, Harry Potter, think that you hurt me, that you were making me do something against my will, because you weren't. I promise Harry, you didn't. You'd kill yourself before you would even think about doing something like that.” His eyes cleared, slightly, but he still looked deeply ashamed of himself. She saw him swallow several times, and then he spoke, in a dead hollow voice that worried her greatly.

“What…What do we do? What does this mean? Can…can you still be my friend after this?” He knew this was entirely unfair, but he was completely out of his depth. Harry had barely just started coming to grips with the fact that she wasn't going to accuse him of forcing himself on her. So he had no fucking clue what to do or where to go after this.

“Of course I'm still your friend, your best friend. Nothing would ever change that.” She looked at him a little exasperated, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “She isn't going to leave me; she's still my best friend. Thank God, if I had destroyed that, I might have gone insane.”

“As to the rest, I don't know. I don't have all the answers, I don't know what we should do or what this means for us. I do know that Ron can never find out about this, and I think you should go. I don't think we can talk about this tonight, our emotions are too high. You go back home, go to sleep, and we'll talk about this tomorrow.” Hermione sighed, suddenly exhausted. The feelings that had flown through her had drained everything out of her, now she just wanted to sleep.

Harry nodded, knowing she was right. Now that the adrenaline and arousal was gone, he was extremely tired. He looked over at her and desperately wanted to kiss her again, but that way led to madness. Walking over to his black suit coat, he shrugged into it and looked at his best friend again.

“I'm sorry Hermione. I'm truly sorry.” And before she could speak, he Apparated back to Black Manor, back home.

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2. Hermione's Perspective

Title: Without You, There is Nothing

Author: gphoenix51

Category: Action/Romance/Humor

Rated: NC-17 for Violence, Sexual Themes, Sex Scenes, and Naughty Language…lots of Naughty Language

Pairings: Main: Harry/Hermione, Neville/Luna

Slight: Harry/Luna, Hermione/Ron

Spoilers: Books 1-5, because the series mysteriously ended after book 5.

A/N: Sorry, this chapter has no dialogue, and that it's so short. This is Hermione trying to work her way through what happened and what will happen. I promise, tons of dialogue in the next chapter. Also, I know it says NC-17 up there, but I still feel compelled to give another warning here. There will be a description of a rough sexual act, not rape. I don't write about rape and don't appreciate people who do. This is rough sex that turns slightly bad. It gets resolved, so I hope everyone will read it anyway. If not, then I'm sorry.

A/N 2: I am so blown away by all the great reviews I've gotten so far. I honestly didn't think this story would be that great, and I had debated with myself for awhile before posting it, I didn't think people would like it. I guess they do, and I just hope everyone enjoys Chapter 2, Chapter 3 will be up tomorrow.

Chapter 2 - Hermione's Perspective

Hermione didn't see him the next day, or the day after, the week after, or the month after that. Because that next day, rumor had it that Harry had stomped directly into Moody's office and demanded an offshore assignment, the longer the better. He didn't care what it was, so long as it got him out of the country. So, Chief Auror Alastor Moody had sent Auror Captain Harry Potter…somewhere. Rumors said it was anywhere from America to Australia, for anything from a simple training mission to hunting down and killing the next Dark Lord. Everyone had an opinion and Hermione couldn't get any reliable info as Moody refused to give her any details, saying it was confidential and none of her damn business.

Even Luna had no idea exactly where he was, and she was the only person, other than Hermione, that Harry trusted enough to tell his secrets to. She'd tried several times to get into Black Manor, but it was on lockdown. She'd even tried calling for Dobby or Winky, Harry's paid butler and housekeeper respectively, but they didn't come to her. They always had before; Harry must have ordered them not to go to her summons. So, for a month and a half, Hermione stewed. She went through several mood swings. She'd been terrified that she'd somehow ruined their friendship and he had packed up and ran away. She'd been unbelievably sad that he'd simply disappeared and didn't want to see her again. She'd been extremely pissed that he just took off with no letter, no warning, nothing, and left her to worry herself sick at the idea that she had destroyed their relationship.

All of which didn't make her too popular at work, and even less popular at home. Ron had finally gotten tired of her depression, spontaneous crying or snapping at him, for no good reason (he thought). He had told her repeatedly that Harry was just off being Harry and he'd come back when he wished to grace them with his presence again, which led to Hermione eventually punching him and then hexing him into unconsciousness. Which, in turn, led to Ron finally granting her fondest and most dreaded wish, he dumped her. Her relationship with him was horrible; it had been rocky from the start and had never gotten better. In fact, it had gotten worse. She had thought about ending it several times, but her self respect was always her greatest weakness, Hermione thought that if she ever lost Ron, she'd never find anyone who would want to be with her.

Her long standing dream was to be with Harry. She'd had feelings for him since their fourth year, when they'd bonded so well during the time Harry had been abandoned by the rest of the school. They'd spent so much time together, Hermione had almost wished that it would have stayed that way, that everyone would keep avoiding him (especially Ron) so she could keep him all to herself. She had always felt sick and extremely guilty at those thoughts, because she knew very well how much it hurt Harry for everyone to think he was a cheater…or worse. She'd been disappointed at how fast he'd accepted Ron back, but glad that her bond with him didn't seem to be broken. When she'd found out about the Yule Ball, she'd hoped against hope that their bond would be strong enough for him to ask her. But he was pinning for that bitch, Cho Chang. It hurt even more when Harry didn't even think to ask her to the Yule Ball, so wrapped up as he was in Cho.

He still pined for her in fifth year, and it had killed her to have to try to talk to him about her feelings, when hers had been crushed. After the Ministry, she had unconsciously pulled away from him and concentrated on Ron, who finally got the nerve to ask her out during their seventh year. Harry, meanwhile, had found Luna Lovegood, and it had been extremely hard for Hermione to hate her, since she had come to regard the younger Ravenclaw as the sister she never had. But every time she saw them together, especially when she caught them kissing passionately on the Gryffindor Common Room couch, the jealousy she'd felt almost made her face turn green. She'd been very cool to the both of them for the next week after that.

It got worse in Seventh year, Hermione had been made Head Girl, and, astoundingly, Ron had been made Head Boy. Their private rooms together had helped Ron get the courage to ask her out, and she jumped at the chance. But, being so far away, it had also led to Harry and Luna getting closer together, which she hated. The War had been in full swing by then. Harry, Luna, Herself and Ron were all in training. Dumbledore had finally gotten off his ass and got them private combat tutors. But Moody, Remus and McGonagall had felt that Harry needed a sharper edge than the others, and needed it faster because of Dumbledore's flat refusal to train Harry in combat till he was seventeen. So, they had taken it upon themselves to reclaim the Legendary Lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw. They'd found it after forcing the location from the Grey Lady, who was the ghost of Rowena's daughter. The Diadem could absorb knowledge and pass it on to whoever wore it. After Harry had worn the Diadem, he'd apparently absorbed the entire combined Knowledge's of Rowena Ravenclaw, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin and everyone else that had handled the Diadem for the last thousand years, Dumbledore and most of the Order was included in that.

He'd spent three weeks in a coma, the Diadem locked on his head, trying to cope with the sudden influx of entire vaults of knowledge, spells, techniques and unlocked abilities. Luna had never once left his side. Dobby and Winky had brought her food and gave her a magical privy they'd found in the Potter Legacy Vault, so she'd never have to leave him. Hermione had wanted to stay by his side as well; she was a complete wreck while Harry was in his coma. But Ron, Head Girl Duties and N.E.W.T.s had prevented her from doing so. Luna hadn't cared, hadn't cared about any of that, and as a result didn't pass half her classes, but she didn't care. All she wanted was the man she loved back and to Hell with the consequences. It was that last part that had told Hermione that Harry and herself could never be, if she couldn't toss away everything else for him, then she obviously didn't love him enough. What she would never admit to herself, was that if Harry had been unconscious for one more day, she would have thrown everything out the window and held his hand till he woke up. She was terrified at the idea of it, she wanted to, but years of rejection and heartbreak had kept her from doing so.

When Harry had come out of his coma, he was a different Wizard, but still, somehow, the same old Harry. Luna had been so happy, she cried for hours and he'd held her in his arms, comforting her. Then, the first thing they did was dance, right there in the Hospital Wing, to music Harry had summoned without his wand. Luna had been astounded, to say nothing of Hermione. Until that point, Harry had hated dancing, but now, he loved it. Not only loved it, but could do it damn well. Luna had confessed to Hermione a few times that she wished Harry would dance with her, and she had tried to teach him, but he never got the hang of it. But now, he danced like he was born to, either because of the knowledge he gained or the confidence, and he wanted to grant that wish of Luna's.

That was when her fantasy of being held close and dancing with him had started. Not to be outdone, Hermione had tried to get Ron to dance with her, which took a lot of persuasion, several bribes of sweets and finally a couple threats. She'd regretted it almost before it started, he couldn't dance worth a lick. Worse, he stepped all over her feet and almost broke both of them. After that, Harry had promised Luna that he'd help her fulfill her fondest wish. What that was, none of them had found out till they'd come back from their week long secret mission/vacation that Harry had whisked her off on. They'd told no one and had actually escaped from Hogwarts to do it. When they came back, not only did neither of them get expelled, but they had several small crates full of creatures that Hermione had been adamantly positive didn't exist, Crumple Horned Snorkacks. She had to admit, they were very cute, and was happy for the both of them, especially Luna. She'd finally been vindicated, and had promised to find her other creatures as well. So far, she hadn't found any, but it never stopped her from trying.

Hermione had heard that Harry had a shouting match with Dumbledore, telling him point blank that if he even tried expelling him or Luna, that Harry would take his vaults, pack up Black Manor, the Snorkacks, Hermione, Luna and disappear, and let the old goat fight his own fucking war. After that, no one questioned Harry or his motives. He was becoming the warrior the Magical World needed, not just the sacrificial weapon Dumbledore wanted. But it still wasn't enough, Harry's magical knowledge was immense, but to win a war, he knew he'd need more.

Using the information that the Diadem gave him, Harry had found Merlin's Time Turner. He knew that the most powerful Wizard of the Light in history had made a very special one, the one he'd used to train the young Arthur Pendragon into the King of Legends. Merlin's Time Turner could go back years, instead of just hours or days. Harry had found it, used it and trained all over the world for three years, and using the Diadem, he collapsed the decades of knowledge he needed into those three years.

Luna had surprisingly not gone with him. She said she'd be too much of a distraction, at which point she winked and Harry actually blushed. She knew that with the Time Turner, he would only be gone from her life for a few moments, but she gave him several things to remember her by, some of which Hermione never knew about, and probably didn't want to know about.

She could perfectly recall the day that Harry had used the Time Turner in Black Manor, that moment would be burned into her memory forever. Harry set the device for 3 years in the past, gave herself a gentle kiss on the cheek and Luna one long, deep, searing kiss that had curled her own toes. He activated it and immediately faded away. He wasn't gone for more than ten seconds before the front door of Black Manor smashed open and the new Harry James Potter had walked in. Hermione could feel the waves of pure power flowing over her, and she was so attracted to him at that moment she would have jumped his bones if Luna hadn't gotten there first.

The changes in Harry were extraordinary; he was a master of seven different martial arts, having been trained under several Grand Masters. He was an expert in Muggle Weaponry, battle tactics, espionage, guerrilla warfare and who knew what else. Harry also was sporting two long curved swords, a Japanese Katana and matching Wakizashi, with a smaller TantÅ� at the small of his back. Harry said he forged them himself out of a mixture of Goblin Silver and Titanium. They weren't the only new things either. In his right ear was a silver stud earring, sporting a small emerald. Harry explained that it was a Translation Stone. With all the cultures and people he'd come into contact with, he knew language would be a problem. So, he bought a rare Translation Stone that would translate every language on Earth into English. He then had it set into an earring so as to be as inconspicuous as possible.

On his right arm, Harry had a tattoo, but not just a small picture; this was a complete sleeve. Starting with a fingerless glove on his right hand, which seamlessly blended into a picture of armour plating. Overlapping plates that were so lifelike, it looked like he really wore an armoured sleeve. This continued all the way up his arm and became a red and gold flying Phoenix, covered in flames. The flames wrapped around his upper back and licked up the left side of his neck. She'd never seen the entire thing of course, Harry had never taken his shirt off around her, but she managed to get the full description out of Luna. He had apparently enchanted the tattoo with better colors and made it more lifelike than the Muggles could do. He had also healed it overnight, so it was completely perfect. When Hermione asked why he did it, he simply held out his right fist and asked if she could see any scars. After looking for several seconds, she realized the scars that toady bitch had made him carve into his hand were completely gone, she couldn't see them anymore. He said he'd started with the glove, but it just kinda grew from there. He said it somehow made him feel better, to always be wearing that armour, even if it was just a picture. What it represented was the most important thing.

After Harry had come back, he became a force of nature. He tracked down and hunted the Death Eaters and their allies into extinction. But, no matter how experienced Harry was, no matter how much knowledge he had and all the memories he now retained, he always asked her was her opinion was. He always wanted to know what she thought about their operations and missions they went on.

Harry had finally discovered Riddle's hidden fortress and crushed it. The Army of the Light met the Army of the Dark and waged the final battle of Riddle's War. Dumbledore had tried to duel Riddle first, but Harry wouldn't have it. He cut a bloody swath through Death Eaters, Trolls and Lycans, his blazing green eyes never leaving his most hated enemy. The duel between Harry and Riddle himself lasted for a solid five hours. Five furious hours, in which every spell Hermione had ever read about was used, and several she'd never heard of. Back and forth it went, neither of the combatants giving ground. Spell and counter spell, blade upon blade, each was matched and deflected. Finally exhausting Riddle, Harry had used his last reserves to use his sword to cut through Riddle's wand, his arms and then to sever his head from his unnatural body. Fighting back his exhaustion, Harry took up Riddle's wand, and broke it in one hand, keeping it for his trophy room. Snapping his fingers, he incinerated the unholy creation of Riddle's body in an instant, then waved his hand over his sword and cleaned it before slamming it home in its sheath. Harry then turned toward his allies, took three steps, and collapsed on the bloody battlefield. He'd needed a month to recover from his ordeal, this time Luna and Hermione had stayed at his side. Or she tried to, she was forced to leave several times, and it was always Ron who had pulled her away from him.

When Harry recovered, he passed his N.E.W.T.s with flying colors and went immediately into the Auror Corps, where, instead of the years of training at the Academy he'd expected, Bones, Shacklebolt and Moody had overruled everyone and gave him his badge. Not only making him a full Auror, but also a Captain in the ranks, a special class that Harry was the only member of, reporting only to Chief Moody , the head of the Ministry Law Enforcement Department - Kingsley Shacklebolt and the new Minister - Madam Amelia Bones, for missions. Hermione herself had gone into the Healer Academy; her experience on the battlefield allowed her to skip several superfluous months of training and she became a full fledged Healer, attached to the Auror Medical Corps. Seeing Harry almost every day, when he wasn't off somewhere, saving people again, was pleasurable torture for Hermione. She loved being with her best friend, but wanted so badly for him to become more than that.

Especially when she found out what Ron was like out of school, which was worse than being in school. Ron had gotten a job with his Twin brothers at their joke shop, which made him happy since it wasn't too difficult. He'd tried out for several Quidditch teams, but never made it in, his debilitating nervousness always fouled up the tryouts. It got worse when Ginny got a spot with the Holyhead Harpies, (Hermione thought the name was appropriate, she'd heard about the Love Tonic Spike and was not amused). So, Ron gave up trying to play the sport professionally and just listened to it on the Wizarding Wireless, occasionally getting tickets and forcing Hermione to go. Harry never went anymore, he'd lost his taste for the game after Sirius died and he had focused all his time on training and studies. Harry still flew, but not on his Firebolt anymore; He retired it and kept it in a sealed case in his trophy room. He'd said he didn't want to risk losing the first present Sirius had ever given him. Instead, Harry had bought himself a state-of-the-art, Firebolt Mk. II. This one made the Mk. I look like an ancient Silver Arrow.

Luna had left Hogwarts when Harry graduated and become a part-time explorer while taking a position as Co-Editor in Chief of The Quibbler. When she wasn't working there, she was out looking for more animals, and she bred her Snorkacks on the side, establishing a new colony on protected land that Harry had given her. After her breakup with him, Luna had thrown herself into her work, much like Harry did. Neville had come by soon after that and they had eventually started going out. Hermione had never known what had caused the breakup; she had assumed they were going to get married. Neither of them would talk about it either, always getting a sad, wistful look on their face before changing the subject.

Her own relationship with Ron had worsened, it had always been tumultuous, had always been full of fights and arguments, so much so they'd had multiple warnings from their landlord about them, when Hermione got so angry with him she'd forget the Silencing Charm. Ron, of course, never could be bothered to cast one himself, he never cared enough. She was only glad that no one had called the police before. That would have been lovely to explain, to the Muggle Cops and the Ministry Law Enforcement Officers who always show up when a Magic gets the Muggle cops set on them.

One of their biggest arguments was about sex, Ron always pushing her to finally go all the way. Hermione never could explain it to him properly, but she just never felt right about it. They'd messed around with each other of course, she'd given him handjobs, before Ron had finally convinced her to suck him off, and she had hated it. He was too forceful; he had kept pushing her head down and not letting her breathe. It's like he was trying to fuck her skull. And of course, Ron couldn't be bothered with going down on her, he thought it was gross. He barely even fingered her, and those tingles she got from it were all she knew as orgasms. But he had always been after her for a blowjob, since she wouldn't have sex with him. She finally gave in, and it was a horrible experience.

When she tried to complain about her treatment, Ron had brought up sex again, saying it would be better if she just unlocked her knees let him fuck her. Hermione had first hexed him and then kicked him out of the bedroom that night, and they hadn't had any kind of sexual relations for the last few months because of it. Not that she really cared; she hated how Ron had made her feel so dirty, so degraded when he had finally convinced her. Hermione had even transfigured their queen sized bed into two singles, so she wouldn't have to sleep next to him anymore. Hermione decided to leave him to rot, and good riddance. So, Ron's eyes wandered, not that they hadn't always wandered before. It was hard not to notice how he stared at the other, prettier girls when they'd go out. Hermione's opinion of herself had never been a strong one; being called names for most of your life will do that to you.

And watching him stare and drool at the huge fake tits on the air headed bimbos had only hurt her more. Hermione suddenly realized that Harry had never had such a problem, and she would have noticed if he had. After his break up with Luna, anytime he was out with her, Harry would always be focused on her. Anytime Harry spoke to her, or Hermione spoke period, whether to him or to anyone else, Harry's attention was always on her. At the time, she had thought it was merely being friendly and polite.

But after what had happened that night after the club, Hermione wondered if it meant something else. She had a burning hope inside her that Harry actually had feelings for her. She'd seen something in his eyes that night that she had only seen before when he looked at Luna. And the way he kissed her, like he was dying of starvation and Hermione was his only sustenance. He kissed her like she was his food, water and oxygen, all wrapped up in one.

Then, he'd been so romantic with her; he used her favorite romantic movie line, had walked up to her like she was a treasured Lady of Court, bowed deeply to her and swept her off her feet to dance with her. And the dance…it was like magic. A word terribly overused in their world, but it was the only way Hermione knew to describe it. It was everything she'd dreamed of, and so much more. They moved together as if they had always been meant to. They fit together as if they'd been made for each other. And she'd never felt so loved, so needed in that moment, his strong arms wrapped around her while she was snuggled into his broad chest. The kiss they shared soon after was perfect, so romantic, so full of feeling; she'd almost melted with the power of it.

The song changed, and so did the mood. It went from soft and romantic to hard and passionate. The look he gave her when she challenged him to dance this new song with her had sent a bolt of pure lust and arousal through her, something that had never happened before. Ron had never been able to set her on fire with just a look. And that look of Harry's, a dark, dangerous look, it had sent shivers of desire down her spine to pool between her legs. She could see in his eyes how much he wanted her, and she was sure he could see the same in hers.

When he'd started grinding into her, she felt like she'd catch fire with the friction and sensations. When he'd pushed her over the bar of her kitchen and pulled up her short skirt, she instantly drenched her emerald green thong. A thong she had bought thinking of Harry's eyes. Unbeknownst to Harry and unnoticed by Ron, she always wore that particular thong when she'd go out with Harry. It always made her feel attractive and slightly naughty; having a piece of cloth the exact shade of Harry's eyes, pressed against her most intimate of areas. She always managed to go home wet after being out with Harry, wearing “his” thong, as she liked to think of it.

But, then it had all gone to Hell. She just had to remember her drunk, knocked out, worthless boyfriend, and everything blew up in their faces. She felt guilty for doing something so intimate with Harry while still being Ron's girlfriend. Harry apparently thought he'd forced himself on her or some other such insanity. It was his overdeveloped sense of guilt that she could thank Dumbledore and the goddamn Dursleys for.

She was glad that Luna and herself had gone and dealt with those monsters. Luna was quite terrifying when she was angry, and boy were they both pissed when they saw the locks on the outside of Harry's tiny bedroom. Which didn't compare to the rage they had both felt when they saw the padlocks on the cupboard under the stairs. Hermione had decided then and there to never piss Luna off. (What she didn't know was that Luna had made the same decision, seeing the fire of Hermione's anger in her chocolate brown eyes.)

Hermione regretted now that she had asked Harry to leave. They should have gotten everything straight right then. Or she should have followed him back to Black Manor and shagged him blind, to hell with Ron. But, she hadn't, and now she was paying for it.

So, here she sat. In the living room of her new apartment, scratching Crookshanks behind the ears while she reminisced. Wondering desperately where the fuck Harry James Potter was.

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3. Reconcile

Title: Without You, There is Nothing

Author: gphoenix51

Category: Action/Romance/Humor

Rated: NC-17 for Violence, Sexual Themes, Sex Scenes, and Naughty Language…lots of Naughty Language

Pairings: Main: Harry/Hermione, Neville/Luna

Slight: Harry/Luna, Hermione/Ron

Spoilers: Books 1-5, because the series mysteriously ended after book 5.

A/N: I just wanted to thank everyone who reviewed. It really makes me happy that this story was received as well as it has been. I just hope I can keep it up with this chapter. This one is really long, so brace yourselves. I should probably split it in half, but I really can't find a place to do so. Or, I could, but it would be horribly mean of me, and it would break the “mood”. Also, another warning, the rough sex act from Chapter 2 will be touched on here, simply because there are still some issues Hermione needs to work out. Hope it doesn't ruin the flow. Enjoy!

Chapter 3 - Reconcile

Black Manor used to be a dark, dank place. The first time Harry had seen it, it was the most depressing house he'd ever been in. It didn't help that it had several severed House Elf heads, an insane screaming painting that Harry himself had destroyed with a powerful Reductor curse, one that had blown out the wall it had been hanging on as well. It also had HaHara tinge of evil to it, some lingering Darkness that hung in the air. But, when Harry had inherited the Manor after Sirius died, after resetting the Fidelius Charm so he was Secret Keeper, he'd hired Dobby and Winky away from Hogwarts and they remodeled the place. The only people with access to the New Black Manor was Harry, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Dobby, Winky, Arthur, Bill and Fleur, Charlie, Fred, George, Angelina, Alicia and Katie. The Order headquarters had been moved to Dumbledore's house and he wasn't happy about it. But since he had no idea where Black Manor was, especially since the Secret didn't include the address anymore, Dumbledore couldn't do anything about it.

Gone were the dark walls and curtains, gone was the oppressive atmosphere, gone was the Black Family Tapestry and severed Elf Heads. Harry had packed all that crap up and sent them to Narcissa Malfoy nee Black. The portrait of Phineas Nigellus was wrapped up and sent to Dumbledore with a big “FUCK YOU” written on it, his spy removed from Harry's home. Kreacher, they found dead in the Manor after Harry had taken control of it. Apparently, the idea of serving not only a half-blood, but also a half-blood who consorted with Mudbloods, Blood traitors and was the one who defeated the Dark Lord as a baby, caused Kreacher to commit suicide. They found his rotting carcass underneath Mrs. Black's painting, which was screaming non-stop; even the curtains couldn't hold her back. So, Harry had blasted the painting through the wall and incinerated Kreacher's body.

Hiring Dobby and Winky wasn't hard, per se. It was just complicated. Dobby jumped at the chance to work for Harry, and Winky had finally come around to at least a few of Dobby's ideas by then and wanted to work for Harry as well. So, negotiations began, and Harry had quickly wondered if he should have hired a goblin to help handle them. Dobby would work for Harry, and for higher wages. Winky would accept the same wages as Dobby, (she'd shuddered at the time, but finally got used to it). They would also let Harry occasionally cook for himself and others, and would eat with Harry whenever a meal was served, no matter who cooked it. In return, Harry would have to bond with the Elves, not just pay them. He'd managed to modify the bond so they could handle clothes, because Dobby loved clothes and Winky loved sewing. And it would let Hermione to continue to knit things for both of them, which they always loved.

Also, Harry would have to submit to being called Master. This had been a sticking point for him because he really disliked it at first. But, after the Elves explained how much they liked to have a Master or Mistress, and really liked calling them that, he finally relented. So, he was Master Harry James Potter-Black and Dobby became his new Butler and Winky was his new Housekeeper. They both wore uniforms with the Potter and Black crests on the days they worked. Their days off, which Harry had managed to up to a weekend a month, they could wear whatever they wanted. Which turned out to be some rather wild designs. Dobby's personal taste in clothes, in particular, looked like something he and The Twins had thought up after a night of Butterbeer and Firewhisky. Winky was more subdued, but both of them still managed to wear the House Crests they were bonded to. They were so happy that they served those houses they never wanted to stop wearing the crests.

When they had full access to Black Manor, Winky and Dobby began the redecorations. And Harry had to admit, had never seen the pair of them so happy in his life. At times, they'd just stop whatever they were doing and burst into tears of absolute joy. But, when they were finished, Black Manor had never looked so amazing. In fact, the color black wasn't too prevalent in the new Manor. Gold, Silver, Red, Yellow, Sapphire Blue and Emerald Green were the colors of the new Black Manor. All the snake door handles were replaced with Owls, Lions, and Ravens and the new door knocker was a solid silver Phoenix. The main living room and den was an astounding replica of the Gryffindor Common Room, plush couches and squashy armchairs around a huge fireplace. The entire room was trimmed in Red and Gold.

The kitchen was remodeled to look more like the Hogwarts kitchen, which made the Elves much more comfortable with it. The Dining room became a smaller replica of the Great Hall, but with only one long table. The various sitting rooms were transformed into several other types of rooms, or they simply had drastic overhauls. Winky and Dobby had wanted to live in the hovel that Kreacher had lived in, but Harry put his foot down. He said that that “room” wasn't fit for the Butler and Housekeeper of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter-Black. He knew how to speak their language now, and they finally agreed, taking a rather large room off the kitchens, that had been added in the remodel, for their own living quarters. An indoor swimming pool was also added to the first floor.

There is a private trophy room, which houses the Potter, Evans and Light Side Black trophies and awards. Copies were made of his parents awards in Hogwarts, the originals were placed here. Both of their diplomas hung along side Sirius' and Harry's, along with their O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. awards and letters. A few other priceless things in the Potter Legacy Vault rounded out the room, including the one of a kind Stradivarius Violin, Named the Firebird, which James had given to Lily for her wedding gift.

The Potter-Black Library was a personal project of Harry's. He had re-designed the formerly dank and cluttered Black Family Library into a bright, polished masterpiece of architecture. He based the designs on several huge libraries he'd visited around the world; the Library of Congress, The Library of Cambridge University, The Library of Kyoto University, several smaller Buddhist and Taoist Libraries and The Library of Hogwarts, along with his added memories from Rowena Ravenclaw of the Library of Alexandria. He wouldn't let anyone else work on it, not even Dobby and Winky, which they weren't too happy about till he took them both aside and explained why he wanted to do this himself, and who this library was a present for. After that, they were happy, and giggled every time they saw Hermione or Luna.

It was for his two favorite women in the world that he had designed and built this mammoth book collection. Harry also had purchased several rare and one of a kind books, plus bought copies of every book in Diagon Alley and Hogwarts to fill it. Adding to the collection was the Potter Family Library, which had been kept safe in the Legacy Vault. After going through the Dark Arts books in the Black Library, Harry had created his own version of the Hogwarts Restricted Section. Only three people, and two elves, had unrestricted access to the Dark Arts Section, no one else was allowed near them without one of the fully authorized persons escorting them.

Harry made his two girls take off a weekend from school, then Apparated them to Black Manor. Leading them blindfolded to the fourth floor, he opened the doors and led them inside. As one, he pulled their blindfolds off and showed them the remodeled Potter-Black Library. His ears had almost started bleeding at the extremely loud screams of pure delight from both of them. They both turned and jumped him together, the three of them clattering to the floor painfully. After several hugs and kisses, they abandoned him to the cold floor and stayed in the Potter-Black Library for the next two days. Anticipating this, Harry had quite ingeniously installed bathrooms and a small sleeping room in a cubby in the Library, knowing the two girls would appreciate the quick access. Along with a huge table made of onyx that could double as a research and dinner table. He even added a computerized search engine so they could instantly find which book they wanted and where it was. He finally got them to leave the Library by threatening to set the whole thing on fire. After he dodged several hexes, he finally convinced them to leave, laughing the whole way.

A training/combat room was created by combining the four bedrooms on the third floor. It was cavernous; the first half of the room was wall to wall weapons. Weapons of every type and make, from ancient Celtic and Bretion Gladii, to their Roman Gladius decedents, to state of the art Muggle firearms and equipment. All types of Ancient, Medieval, and Modern weapons were arrayed here; swords, axes, bows, quivers, pikes, maces, pistols, hand cannons, shotguns, rifles and several other types were displayed proudly on the wall, along with other weapons from several other cultures. Harry became quite fascinated with the Asian culture and weaponry in his three years of time training. Half of his collection were weapons and armour from China and Japan. The training room itself was modeled after Japanese architecture. In the actual combat room, Harry had a stroke of brilliance. In absorbing the knowledge of the Founders, he had been able to re-create the Room of Requirement (on vastly smaller scale) in this room. While it couldn't create anything the user wanted, it could certainly create specialized training dummies, attack targets and almost anything else within a certain range.

This…was where Harry James Potter was, on the floor of his training room, bleeding from several open wounds. He had been in this room, punishing himself for the last week, as soon as he had gotten back from his month and a half long mission for Moody. He had been all ready to speak to Hermione the next day about what had happened after the club. Until the dream that night. “Nightmare, more like.” Harry panted. Just remembering that nightmare, and the subsequent ones, made him shudder and want to vomit. The cruelty of his dream was rather astounding; it actually starts out great, a reenactment of that night. He could feel her kiss; he could feel her lips, feel the heat of her body. Then the song changed, and it became passionate, everything was the same, until they got to the part where she told him to stop. In his nightmare, he didn't stop, didn't stop as he ripped off her clothes, didn't stop while he forced himself on her, taking her against her will.

The amount of hate Harry had for himself was monumental, never before had he felt such anger, such hatred for another human being, and that human being was Harry Potter. Worst thing was, he couldn't explain to himself exactly why he hated himself, or why he was having these nightmares. He knew he was feeling guilt because he had done something very intimate with another man's girlfriend. But not much, seeing as he really couldn't care less about Ron at this point. He was feeling guilt that he'd avoided Hermione for over a month, but that couldn't be helped. After that first nightmare, he couldn't bear the idea of facing her again.

What he felt most was guilt, fear, and disgust that he couldn't stop the instant she asked him to. He knew he had heard her moan before; it was what pushed him to keep going. Then her continued moans pushed him even further, he wanted to hear her moaning in pleasure, and when she kept moaning his name, it made him want to hear more. Even bending Hermione over the bar and pushing up her skirt, she seemed to like that even more. She moaned louder and said his name more passionately. But then, it all went to Hell. She froze up, and then she told him to stop, which he barely heard. For some reason, he didn't stop. It just felt so damn good, to finally be pressing himself up against her hot core. Where he'd wanted to be for years. So, he didn't stop, even though his mind was telling him that something was wrong and he needed to stop. But he didn't, he just pushed harder, she moaned louder. Then she bucked back hard enough to be painful, and that finally broke him out of his pleasure induced trance long enough to hear what she was saying, and she was telling him to stop. Horror had flooded his entire body, and he threw himself off of Hermione.

He couldn't begin to describe the fear he felt then. Harry had been so sure that Hermione was going to curse him into the next world. But she didn't. He was so sure she was going to throw him out and never want to see him again. But she didn't. And Harry had been terrified that she would hate him forever, that she would end their friendship. But Hermione didn't. And he couldn't understand it. He was absolutely disgusted with himself, at his lack of self control. What the fuck was he? Some horny teenager? She said stop, he should have stopped that instant, but he didn't, because he wanted her too much, he now realized.

After he screamed himself awake, he needed to get away, needed to avoid their meeting later and get as far away as he could. So he basically kicked in Moody's door and demanded an overseas assignment from the former Order Member. After he got over his shock and then yelled at Harry for a solid twenty minutes, Alastor gave him a choice of America, Australia, France, or Japan for an Auror training mission. An exchange of tactics and procedures. France was too close; Hermione wouldn't even need a Portkey to find him there. Australia, she had too damn much experience with, her family vacationed there several times over the years. So it was down to America or Japan, and with his affinity for the country, he ultimately picked it.

Off he went to the Temple of Mystics and Magics in Japan, a place he'd been to several times before. He met up with lots of old friends and mentors, completed his training mission quickly and spent the rest of the month traveling around the country, trying to get a handle on his emotions. It didn't help that he had the nightmares almost every night, even taking dreamless sleep potions didn't help, the nightmares always forced their way into his subconscious. And they were getting worse.

“Master Harry!” Dobby and Winky yelled together. Then they popped over in their haste and knelt by their bleeding employer.

“Master Harry, why have you done this to yourself?” Dobby asked in horror. Winky was crying silently as she tended to his wounds.

“Because I deserve it. Because of what I've done.” Harry managed to groan out.

“What did you do, Master?” Winky asked, sobbing.

“Something bad, something to my best friend. Something a best friend should never do or even think about doing.” He said in a dead, hollow voice.

“Mistress Mione? What happened?” Dobby asked, and even with everything else going on inside him, Harry had to smile a little at the name. After they had heard Harry call Hermione that the first time, that was the only thing they called her since. She was also the only other person, besides Luna, who the Elves considered their mistress. They called Luna, Mistress Lu, after Harry's nickname for her.

Ron they forever called Weasel, and Harry had to bite his lip every time to keep from laughing. Ron thought it was because they couldn't say his last name right, but it was actually because the Elves disliked him almost as much as Harry did. Since he treated them with the normal pureblood carelessness, whenever Hermione wasn't around. Which was one reason Ron wasn't allowed to come to Black Manor too often.

“Doesn't matter Dobby, it was bad enough that I don't think she'll want to see me again.” Harry said, pushing off the floor into a sitting position.

“Mistress Mione must not think so, Master Harry. She's come by the Manor almost every day since you left.” Winky said, now tending to the cuts on his head.

“She has? Everyday?” Harry asked; hope welling up in his chest.

“Yes sir, almost everyday. In fact…” Dobby broke off, his head tilted to the side. His huge bat-like ears twitched and then he said, in an excited voice. “Mistress Mione has just entered the wards sir, and is right now standing on the porch. Shall I let her in?”

Harry stalled, “Should I? What if she's just here to curse me to bits? What if she isn't? Maybe she's here to talk some sense into me. Whatever it is, I can't hide here forever, eventually she'll get pissed off enough to find a way to break the wards and then she really will be here to kill me.” He thought.

“Yeah Dobby, let her in.” His butler smiled hugely and popped away.

“Mistress Mione isn't going to like what you've done to yourself, Master.” Winky said sadly, closing the cut on his forehead.

“I know, Winky.” Harry whispered.

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Hermione had barely finished rapping on the door when it opened and Dobby's smiling face shone up at her. She hadn't even opened her mouth before his excited squeak met her ears.

“Mistress Mione! It's so good to see you!” The elf said, hugging her legs. Hermione smiled, both at her nickname how glad she was that both of the elves had finally learned proper English, having taught them herself, with Luna's help.

“It's great to see you again too, Dobby. Is Harry here?” She asked, after kneeling down and giving him a real hug.

“Yes Mistress, Master Harry is in the training room.” Dobby said, his ears drooping as he realized what Harry looked like and how much Hermione hated to see him hurt. Quickly turning, he led her inside as the door closed and sealed automatically. As they walked upstairs, Dobby spoke again.

“Winky and I are sorry for not answering your summons, Mistress. Master Harry ordered us not to, or to tell anyone where he'd gone.” Dobby said.

“It's alright Dobby, if he told you not to, it isn't your fault.” Hermione said, a little heat in her voice, but stopped short at the open door of the training room. There he was, sitting in a bloody heap in the center of the room, as Winky finished work on his wounds.

“HARRY! What the Hell happened to you?!” She yelled. He didn't flinch, he didn't even look up, he just slumped even lower.

“Don't worry about it Hermione, it was just training.” Harry said, his voice hollow.

“Training? With what? Trolls?” She said loudly, running closer to him.

“Pretty much.” He said, gesturing at the rubble surrounding him. Hermione finally took in the sight and was horrified. He'd been bare hand fighting at least three trolls, and they were made out of stone.

“I can't believe you, why did you do this? Why did you leave? Where did you go?” Hermione said, the anger in her voice evident. She expected Harry to get angry too, to jump up and yell at her. What she didn't expect was him to sink lower and close his eyes in pain. Not physical pain, Winky had taken care of that. She had seen the emotional pain in his eyes, even if he had yet to look at her.

“Winky, Dobby, could you please leave us?” Harry said, not looking at them.

“Of course Master, just call if you need us.” They said together before popping away.

Hermione knelt at his side, and right before her outstretched hand touched his head, Harry said, “Please don't touch me.” His voice was so dead, and yet so full of pain she almost cried out in her confusion, her willingness to help him. She also wanted to cry because he couldn't stand to have her touch him, and she was practically burning with the need to do so.

“Why Harry? Why won't you let me touch you? I've missed you.” She whispered sadly.

“Why would you want to touch me, or have me touch you? After what happened last time?” He said, his voice lifeless.

Realization dawned on her, and it almost broke her. “Jesus Christ Harry! Is that what this was all about? The training? The overseas mission? You running away from me? Is that what this is about?!” Her voice was rising; her anger was taking over again. She stood up and started pacing furiously.

“Goddamn you, Harry James Potter! I told you, I told you! You did nothing wrong! I wanted you too; I wanted you so bad I was soaking my panties with it! Is that what you want to hear?! How much I wanted you?!” She screamed at him. “Fine! I'll tell you how much I wanted it, how badly I wanted you!” She was so angry with him; she had thrown sensibility out the window and decided to tell him exactly how much she wanted him that night.

Hermione knelt beside him and growled in his face. “Harry, I wanted you so bad, I was dripping wet with it. I wanted you so bad, my nipples were about to tear through my dress. I wanted you inside me Harry. I wanted to feel you inside me; I wanted you inside my body, fucking me into oblivion. I was this close to just pulling my thong aside and telling you to fuck me as hard as you could, until I was screaming your name.”

She was breathing heavily; just her words were arousing her, making her hot for him again. But this time, she was single; there was no boyfriend to get in the way. And if Harry had looked the slightest bit interested, she'd have vanished his clothes and shagged him right there. But he didn't, he hadn't moved, hadn't twitched, hadn't said a word. Hermione sat back on her heels, dejected. “So he really doesn't want me. Was it just the heat of the moment or something? For as much reaction as I'm getting out of him, he might as well be dead. Goddamn him, and goddamn Ron for fucking up my happiness one last time.”

Hermione stood up, “I'm sorry Harry, I thought you wanted me too. I'll leave you alone now; you don't have to see me anymore if you don't want to.” She turned and walked away, preparing to Apparate out, biting the inside of her lip to keep from crying, because she'd be dammed if she'd cry in front of Harry. Cry over what she had lost, what they had lost. Hermione concentrated on her flat, and Apparated.

Or tried too.

She felt the Anti-Apparition wards then, they had come up right before she had tried to Apparate out. Hermione turned and was going to ask him to drop the ward so she could leave, but he was standing right behind her. Looking at her with such confusion, such pain, such hurt, that she almost hugged him.

“What else do you want from me Harry? Blood?” Hermione asked tiredly.

He didn't say anything for a few moments, just continued to stare at her with those lost, hopeless eyes. Finally, Harry said, “You told me to stop.”

Hermione sighed, “Yes I did, because I was with Ron then…” But Harry didn't seem to hear her.

“You told me to stop, and I should have the instant you said it. I'm not a hormonal teenager anymore, Hermione. I should have stopped the instant you said something.” Harry said desperately.

She sighed deeper, “For fucks sake Harry, you aren't a goddamn robot either! So unless you were, I wouldn't have expected you to stop instantly! Or was I the only one who was feeling that good? And I know that's bullshit, I could feel your hard-on pressing into my ass. So, unless you were thinking about someone else, I'd like to think that I was making you feel good too.”

“Hermione, I almost went out of my mind with how good it felt. And you were the only one I wanted to be with, the only person on my mind. You've been the only person on my mind since I broke up with Luna. You were the REASON I BROKE UP WITH LUNA!” Harry's emotions were finally breaking free. His voice was rising and he was gesturing wildly.

“I'm the reason you broke up with Luna? Why? What did I do?” Hermione asked, complete and utter confusion flooding her.

“Nothing Hermione, you didn't do anything, and that was the problem. I've wanted to be with you since sometime between 4^th and 5^th year. Even I'm not sure exactly when it started. But you never once showed any interest in me, plus the Weasel liked you first. And because of that, I could never show you just how much I really love you!” Harry said all this in a rush, then, realizing what he just said, slapped himself in the face, rather hard.

Her brain locked up. Struggling to find the words, Hermione said slowly “You…You love me? You're…in…love with me, Harry? You really love me?” The last sentence was barely a whisper.

Harry looked stricken; his biggest secret, the one that could destroy everything, was out. The one he'd kept hidden for years, and he just blurted it out to the very last person he wanted to know. “Fuck it, might as well go the whole way and completely screw it up with some style.”

Staring straight into her chocolate brown eyes, Harry nodded. “Yes Hermione Jane Granger. I love you; I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for years. But I've never been able to show it, never been able to tell you because you were with Ron. And since I'd never force you to leave him, never force you to choose between us, I suffered in silence. For years. Luna tried to help me through it. She could feel our connection, our bond. But she also cared deeply for me, she loved me too. So Luna and I tried our hardest to be there for each other. She tried to help me forget you, and I tried to show her as much love as I had left. But it wasn't enough for either of us. Yeah, we had fun, we were in love. But it wasn't strong enough to last, it wasn't the bond I had with you. Luna never had a bond with me, she found hers with Neville. That's why I'm so happy for her, she's in love with him, he's in love with her, and they share that bond together.”

Harry dragged a hand through his sweaty hair and continued. “Unfortunately, my bond is with you, and you're with Ron. So…I'm miserable. But I choose to be miserable, because I would not interfere in your happiness, or your relationship. That night at the club was the first time I saw you that unhappy, and something inside me snapped. I wanted to take you away from him; I wanted to be with you. I wanted to be with you so much, that I let it get that far. First, I kissed you, and it blew the top of my head off. I've wanted to kiss you for years. Then, I got to dance with you, something else I've wanted for years.” Harry turned and kicked a large piece of stone rubble across the room. So he missed the shocked and dumbfounded look forming on Hermione's face.

His back to her, Harry continued his confession “Then, the goddamn song changed. It was a song of passion, of lust, of pure sex in music form. That look you gave me, that voice you used when you challenged me to dance that song with you…it sent me over the edge. I wanted you so much; I didn't care about the consequences anymore. That's what pushed me so far, and yes, I did hear you moaning my name, and that's what pushed me even further. I was this close to taking you on that counter. I was this close to just ripping your wet panties off and fucking you against that counter. Then, you told me to stop, and I didn't, because I wanted you too much. And because I didn't, I've had nightmares about it. They started that very night. When I came back here and went to sleep, I had the worst nightmares I've ever had in my life. It starts out great, a replay of that night. But when you said to stop, I didn't. I didn't stop; I ripped your clothes off and took you against that counter, against your will. Then throwing you to the floor and doing it again and again.” Harry heard her shocked gasp and realized he was trapping her here.

Lowering the wards, he said to her in a hollow, dead voice. “So now you know why I ran away. After that nightmare, and the subsequent nightmares, I couldn't stand the thought of hurting you anymore, of hurting you at all. So, I left. I went to Japan and tried to get a handle on this. But all it's done is amplify the guilt, and the nightmares have been worse. I really don't know what's causing it, leftover guilt from the war, leftover guilt from Dumbledore or the Dursleys, guilt that I was basically making you cheat on your boyfriend. I don't know. I do know I'm disgusted with myself, first because I wanted you so much that I didn't stop immediately when you told me, then the fact that I'm having these nightmares. So, now you know.”

Harry sighed, turned and finished, his head down. “The wards are down, Hermione. You can leave, I'm sorry I kept you here, I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm sorry about everything. I don't know how long I'm going to stay around here, I might just pack up the manor and leave, as soon as I get a transfer I imagine. I don't want to hurt you ever again, not even by accident. I love you too much to stand the thought of me hurting you in anyway. I'm sorry.”

He stood there, waiting for the telltale crack of an Apparition. But it never came; instead he heard her running footsteps and figured she was too freaked out to Apparate away. He expected to hear the door of the training room open and slam shut, and losing her forever.

So, he didn't expect her to come flying at him and tackle him with a bone crushing hug. He smashed to the floor and found Hermione on top of him, squeezing him so tight; he thought his bones might break. His arms automatically went around her and she cried harder.

“Don't you dare leave, Harry! Don't you dare! We aren't finished. I haven't told you how I feel about you yet.” She sobbed into his ripped training gi. Her watery brown eyes rose to meet his, and she whispered to him.

“I love you too, Harry. I've loved you since 4^th year. I've loved you for so long. But I never thought you'd want me that way, never thought you'd ever see me as anything but your best friend. Never see me as a woman; never see me as someone who could love you back. Just don't leave me again Harry. Please, don't leave me again.” Hermione collapsed against him, crying harder.

Harry had no idea what to say, no idea what to do. So, he went on instinct. Wrapping his arms tighter around her, he Apparated them to the Den. They landed lengthwise on the couch and she tightened her grip on him. He started rubbing her back and spoke to her, soothingly.

“Shh, Mione. Shh. We're in the Den. I'll never leave you again, never. Not until you throw me out. Shh now. I'm so sorry I hurt you. God Mione, I'm so sorry. Shh now.” He held her close to him, but he felt her head move and looked into her watery brown eyes.

“Kiss me Harry. Please, just kiss me. I need you Harry. Say the words and kiss me again.” Hermione whispered, desperate to hear him say it again, desperate to feel his lips on hers again.

Locking his emerald eyes on hers, Harry said the words. “I love you, Hermione Jane Granger. I love you so much.” And he kissed her. The pent up emotion from the both of them made this kiss so strong, they would have collapsed with it if they weren't already lying on the couch. The searing kiss got stronger; Hermione was pulling him in deeper, and Harry answered by licking her lips, begging for entrance. She pulled him inside her mouth, sucking and caressing his tongue with hers. Their moans were filling up the room. Finally, they had to break apart, their foreheads pressed against each other, panting deeply.

Hermione looked him in the eyes and said, in a low voice. “Harry, I need you. I want to be with you. I want you to finish what you started and make love to me.” She saw the fear in his eyes and quickly moved to intercept it. “I don't care about the nightmares Harry, they aren't real. You would kill yourself before you ever hurt me like that. As if you could have hurt me like that on that night, or any other night. If you had taken my panties off, I would have shagged you into the carpet. Ron's proven how much he cares about me, he dumped me while you were gone, he finally got tired of my mood swings and my defending you. And if I hadn't thought about him, I would have happily made love to you that night, with no regrets afterward. I was never happy with him Harry. I've always wanted to be with you, but I didn't want to lose the only relationship I thought I could ever have. That's why I never dumped him sooner. I thought if I lost Ron, no one else would have wanted me.” Hermione shook her head and took Harry's face in her hands.

“I don't want to talk about him anymore, this is just about us. I want you Harry. I want to make love to you; I want you to make love to me. Be with me, Harry. Like we always should have been.” Hermione whispered. And Harry nodded.

Kissing her deeply, he said three words. The same three words that had melted her heart a month or so before.

“As You Wish”

She melted again, but this time added her own words.

“I Do Wish It, Be with me Harry. Forever. Make me yours, like I've always been yours.”

“I've always been yours too, Mione. I've always belonged to you.” Harry whispered. Kissing her again, he levered them both up to standing. Picking her up in his arms, he Apparated to the Master Bedroom Suite.

His lips still locked on hers, he carried her to the bed. Laying Hermione gently in the center of it, he crawled between her long legs and caressed her face. His fingers trailed down her alabaster white neck, and she shivered. Slowly, agonizingly slow, he unbuttoned her blue shirt, one at a time, revealing her creamy white flesh, inch by glorious inch. Her breath quickened, her eyes were boring into his, and he smiled at her softly. Harry slowly caressed the bare strip of skin, before taking the shirt in his hands and slowly revealing her bare upper body to him.

“You are absolutely beautiful, Hermione. Absolutely gorgeous.” Harry said, breathless, it having been taken away by how beautiful she was.

Silently, she shook her head no, blushing slightly. “No, Harry I'm not, I'm…” She stopped as Harry loomed over her, pressing a long finger to her soft lips.

“You…are…beautiful, Hermione. Look into my eyes; see the truth in my eyes. Believe me when I say you are the most amazing, the sexiest, and the most perfect vision of beauty I've ever seen. And I've got the memories of a thousand years in my head, remember?” Harry smiled a little at that, then looked deeply into her eyes, his nose a centimeter from her own, his breath on her lips.

“Believe me Hermione, see the truth. You are beautiful.”

And she believed him. He never could lie to her, not when she was looking into his eyes. He never could hide anything from her. “I'm beautiful, Harry thinks I'm beautiful.” Her mind whispered to her. Slowly, she nodded, and the smile on his face could light up a room.

“Thank you.” He whispered against her lips, before kissing them gently. As he left her lips, Harry saw her pink tongue quickly dart out and lick her swollen lips. He lowered his lips again and kissed her neck, eliciting a sigh of pure pleasure from her. Her sighs came faster and louder, as he worked his way down her neck, licking and nibbling. Nipping at her here and there. His hands went to her wrists and finished unbuttoning her shirt, and she quickly slipped out of it, now only clad in her jeans, panties, socks and shoes. She hadn't really expected to meet him here, so she wasn't wearing a bra.

Harry was delighted she had gone without one. When he had first seen her perfect breasts, topped with dusky pink nipples, his mouth watered. He wanted to taste them for so long, and now he was finally getting his wish. Slowly, he worked down, past her neck, licking and nibbling her perfect skin all the way. Her gasps came quicker the closer he got to her mounds. “Let's see what she does when I do this…” Harry thought wickedly. His right hand slid up her naked side and quickly cupped her full, lush breast in his palm, squeezing it gently. A louder, deeper gasp came from her, and Harry smiled against her skin.

Finally, his mouth was finished with the valley between her breasts, and was now climbing those hills. First, he kissed around her right nipple, his tongue leaving a trail around it, Hermione mewled and tried to press her nipple into his mouth, but Harry backed away before he could make contact. She groaned at his teasing, which became exasperated moans as he licked long, wet trails around her hard nipple. Finally, it got some contact, but not what Hermione wanted. Harry, “the teasing bastard he was,” she thought, blew softly across her skin. Her nipple hardened even more, but it wasn't enough. Tingles of electricity danced across her skin.

“Harry, I swear to God, if you don't…OH YESSS!” Hermione's voice started as a low growl, which turned into a hiss as he finally took her teased and abused nipple in his mouth and suckled gently. Her other nip got attention as well, Harry's hands had been cupping her full breast and he gently pinched her left nipple as he took her right one in his mouth. The sensations snapped her head back and she arched into him, trying to get him to take more of her in his mouth. He happily complied, sucking as much of her perfect breast into his mouth as he could, before switching with the other one. He sucked her pebble hard nips, flicked and massaged them with his tongue, and she moaned in pure pleasure.

He could have spent all day worshiping her mounds, but he had a different mound in mind to worship. Giving her breasts one last suck and caress, he moved lower down her flat tummy, kissing her perfect skin all the way. The soft downy hair was popping with goosebumps as he moved lower, not helped by him licking long trails on her tummy, and then blowing gently across it. Harry kissed her right above her jeans as he unsnapped them. Lowering her zipper, he finally got the frontal view of that emerald green thong. “At least I think it's the same one.” Harry thought. Hooking his fingers in to the top of her jeans, he worked them lower, and then he kissed her through her panties. Her hips bucked up instinctively. When they did, he pulled quickly on her pants, clearing her round ass before she made it back to the bed.

Hermione's hands went to find Harry's head and press him deeper into her center, but he wasn't there anymore. Looking down, she fought the urge to let out another exasperated sigh. The teasing bastard had left the place she most wanted him to be and was working on her shoes. Her lust was pooling in her spine, and she couldn't take waiting anymore. Reaching into her back holster, which was now below her ass, buckled onto her jeans, she went for her wand, planning to just vanish their clothes. But before she even touched it, it floated out of her holster and flew across the room, finally landing on the table by the door. “Damn wandless magic!” She griped.

“Harry!” She said, aggravated with her need.

“No wands, Mione. I'm doing this the right way; I want to make love to you the right way. And I promise…” His emerald green eyes rose to her chocolate brown ones and captured her inside his gaze.

“I promise…you'll be screaming with pleasure before I'm finished with you.” The dark look of passion mixed with lust in Harry's eyes accelerated Hermione's heartbeat to the redline. Her naked chest was heaving with delicious anticipation.

“Just lay back, Love, and let me finish making you insane with desire.” The teasing bastard actually had the nerve to smile at her. She huffed and crossed her arms, causing her naked tits to bounce delectably. He chuckled and finished taking off her shoes and socks, then he pulled at her jeans, sliding them slowly down her long legs. Harry then took her left foot in his hands and pressed both thumbs into the arch, sliding them up and down.

Hermione convulsed, she had absolutely no idea that her feet could be so responsive sexually. She normally never thought of them unless they hurt her. When he started massaging her feet, lightning surged up her legs and pooled in her center, already making her very wet thong even wetter. Then, he picked up her other foot and massaged both of her arches with both his hands. She let out a load moan, her toes curled in pleasure and she couldn't hold back anymore. Hermione's hands went to her breasts and started fondling them, pinching her nipples. She worked her own breasts, groping, pinching, squeezing. She mewled again, her back arching off the bed. She gasped loudly when Harry took a hold of both her ankles and spread her legs far apart, opening her body to him. Gently, she felt him kiss his way up her legs, switching back and forth, slowly making his way to her dripping center.

Harry reached her inner thigh, and he heard her breath coming faster. He smiled against her soft skin, rubbing his face up and down it. Coming close to her center, and then backing away. She bucked up again, and Harry decided that he'd teased her enough. “At least for now.” He chuckled mentally. Growling low in his throat, he pressed his nose against her, inhaling her scent. Hermione jumped and quickly grabbed his head, to make sure he wouldn't back away again, but Harry had no intention of doing so. Taking her in his mouth, Harry nibbled, licked and nipped her lips through her thong. He heard her happy moans and pushed his face deeper. His nose slipped inside her folds and she squealed loudly at the contact. Giving her one last kiss, his head came up and tugged her thong down, slipping it past her knees and off her legs. Holding it in his hand, he breathed her musky scent in deep, he'd never smelled anything quite like it, and it was making him light headed.

“I bought that…thinking of you. It matches your eyes. Every time we would go out together, I always wore it…for you.” Hermione said, breathlessly. He smiled down at her, taking another deep whiff of her intoxicating scent.

“Did you now?” Harry asked in a low voice that sent ripples across her skin.

“Yes…and I was always wet when I'd go home afterward, thinking about your thong pressed up against me. Where I wanted you to be.” She said, with a breathless moan.

“Mmm. Naughty, naughty Hermione. Thinking of your best friend like that. I think I'll have to keep them then, to teach you a lesson.” Harry said, finally able to joke about it, knowing he was just as guilty as she was of that particular crime. He slipped her wet panties into his pocket and smiled at her. She was blushing slightly, but she had no reason to. Hermione's body was long lines and curves, lush hills and smooth valleys, an absolute vision of perfection.

Harry crawled off the side of the bed and pulled off his gi. Slowly working the top over his head, teasing her again. Her breath came faster as she saw his hard muscles, his rippled abs and hairless chest. “Gods, that tattoo! Finally!” She smiled fully as she finally got to see the whole thing for herself. The red and gold flames covered the top of his right pectoral muscle, but she wanted to see the whole thing. Slowly spinning her finger in the air, Hermione silently told him to turn around.

Grinning at her, he did as she commanded, and her breath caught at the sight. A red and gold Phoenix was flying on high, her wings were open and she was covered in flames. Flames that licked around his back and up his neck. She was so realistic, Hermione half expected her to fly away at any moment. She instinctively knew the bird was female, she doubted he'd have a male Phoenix on his back and she didn't look exactly like Fawkes. “Probably one he saw from his acquired memories.” She thought.

“No, she isn't Fawkes, her name is Isis. She was a Phoenix that Godric Gryffindor bonded with, she was his Familiar.” Harry said, knowing what she was looking at.

“She's beautiful.” Hermione said quietly. He turned around and smiled softly at her.

“Yes she was, and so are you.” He whispered, and she flushed again.

“Take the rest off, Harry. You've seen all of me; I want to see all of you.” Hermione said, breathless with anticipation.

“At your command, My Lady.” He said with a grin, then with a deep breath, pushed his training pants off his hips and slid his boxers down with them. She gulped, “Wow, I had no idea. I would have snuck into the Quidditch showers and taken him right then if I had known.”

“Be with me Harry, I can't wait any longer. I need you inside me.” Hermione whispered.

“I'm not finished yet Love; I still have one more thing to do, or taste I should say.” He smirked at her, crawling between her open legs, his head coming closer to her bare pussy. Hermione's disappointment that she wasn't about to get her bones jumped quickly faded to astonishment when he knelt between her legs. “He isn't…He's not…Oh my God…HE IS!” Her mind sang with joy.

“But, Harry, are you sure you want…Ohh shit! Mmmm.” Hermione's question was cut off when he blew gently on her nether lips, gooseflesh popping up on her hairless mound. Harry then gently parted her and gave her pink a long, slow lick.

“Do you really want me to…” Harry started with a smile on his face. But Hermione cut him off.

“Harry if you stop now, I swear I'll curse…Oh YES! Lick me, Harry! Lick me harder!” Her complaint was violently derailed as Harry' tongue moved up and down, licking and sucking on her lower lips. Hermione had never felt like this before, He had never gone down on her, had thought it was dirty and gross. But Harry was eating her out like he couldn't get enough, and that was before he stuck his tongue inside her. Her body lurched off the bed, a keening moan escaping her lips. Her fingers were lost in Harry's black hair, holding him tightly to her.

“Yes…Yes Harry YES…God, don't stop. Please don't stop! More! Deeper! Lick me deep…AHHH!” He was drinking her like she was the only liquid on the planet. Then, Harry switched to his fingers. Hermione let out a soft scream as he pushed two fingers inside her. She started squirming madly as he wiggled inside her body. Her eyes were closed, focused completely on his clever fingers and what they were doing to her. Therefore, she was totally unprepared as he lowered his head to her pussy and gently took her clit into his mouth, sucking on her rapturously.

Hermione screamed loudly as the sensations inside her built toward a crescendo. She'd never felt this way, never felt so good in her entire life. He'd never made her feel this good, never made the pool of passion and desire inside her bubble and boil with pleasure. Hermione had never felt like this, and couldn't understand how it could get better without her dying with how good it felt. But she soon found out.

Harry could feel her orgasm building, he knew she was close, if the juices flowing out of her wasn't clear enough, the screams that were building inside her, getting steadily louder and louder, were. “Time to send you to Shangri-La, my Love.” Harry thought. He sucked on her clit harder, flicking it with his tongue. His fingers pushed deeper inside her, and he pressed harder against her upper wall, trying to find her G-Spot. Apparently he found it, because the second he rubbed it, Hermione convulsed and let out an earsplitting scream. He smiled against her clit, and then had a very naughty thought. “What the hell, they aren't called multiple orgasms for nothing.”

Hermione saw stars, literally saw fucking stars exploding behind her eyes. She couldn't believe it; she also couldn't believe something could feel this good, and not be illegal. Never, in her entire life, never had she felt anything like it. And it wasn't over yet. Because, instead of slowing down, Harry was speeding up. “Oh God, I don't know if I can take another one of those, and if he stops I'll kill him dead.” She thought. Unbeknownst to her, Harry had no intention of stopping, not until she was putty on their bed. As it happens, it takes three back-to-back orgasms, two of which helped along by the no longer evil talent of Parseltongue (“Sweet…Mother…of…GOD! HOW IS HE DOING THAT WITH HIS TONGUE?!”) to turn Hermione Granger into a boneless, puddle of goo. It also causes her to pass out.

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Groggily, Hermione came back to the land of the living. She immediately noticed two things. One, she was bare-assed naked. Two, she was wrapped in the loving arms of Harry Potter. Who was also bare-assed naked, and his nakedness was poking up between her thighs.

“Welcome back, Love. Sleep well?” Harry asked, sounding thoroughly pleased with himself. She had just enough strength to lift her head and look at him through half hooded eyes. “Yeah, smug bastard also looks thoroughly pleased with himself too.” Hermione let out a muffled grunt and her head fell back on Harry's chest.

“I'll take that as a yes.” Harry said, chuckling. His left hand decided to go on a journey and explored her back in long, luxurious strokes. She hummed in the back of her throat; she didn't quite have the energy to speak just yet. “If I was a cat, I swear I'd be purring right now.” Hermione thought, smiling. They were both quite content to lay there, Harry stroking her back, and Hermione humming in pure post-orgasmic bliss.

“How…the hell…did you…do that to me?” Hermione finally managed.

For an answer, Harry leaned close to her ear and said in Parseltongue. §“I Love You.”§ Granted, Hermione couldn't understand it, but now that she wasn't in the middle of mind blowing orgasms, she heard the hiss in her ear and knew what it was. She also discovered that hissing in her ear was intensely erotic and she shivered at the waves traveling down her spine.

“Christ Harry, Parseltongue? That's cheating!” Hermione said, exasperated.

“Oh, is it now, Head Girl? Well then, can't lose any points for Gryffindor. I'll just keep my tongue to myself from now on.” Harry deadpanned. Then leaned back to her ear and hissed §“I Love You Hermione.”§

“I didn't say it was wrong Harry, sometimes breaking the rules is a good thing. A very, very good thing. Ohh God…” Hermione moaned, his hissing tongue made contact with her earlobe, and it felt like a hundred tiny tongues were licking her ear. Her shivers increased, lightning was flying down her nerves, pooling at her center.

“What…what did you say?” Hermione gasped.

“I said, I Love You, Hermione.” Harry whispered into her hair. Her face softened, then she smiled, her eyes were lit from within with a new knowledge, the knowledge that Harry loved her. She rose up to look down at him and took his face in her hands.

“Say it again, Harry. Tell me again.” She whispered, drowning in his emerald eyes.

“I'll say it as many times as you want Hermione. I love you, I love you so much. More than anything and anyone in this world or the next, I Love You.” He whispered to her, his words only for her.

“Now you, Hermione. Tell me again, say the words. Tell me I'm yours.” Harry said, a quiet desperation in his voice.

She smiled and caressed his cheek. “I love you, Harry. I love you with all my heart and soul. I love you more than anything or anyone in this world or the next, I Love You. You're mine Harry, and I'll keep you forever.” Harry smiled the biggest smile he'd ever had on his face, and Hermione mirrored him. He pulled her closer and she snuggled down into his chest.

Unfortunately, that movement brought back to her the fact that Harry was very naked and very willing to continue. She could feel him rubbing against her sex, and the thought of what he could do to her with that hardness made her wet with it. Hermione hummed low in her throat and rubbed against him harder. She could feel him sliding up and down the cleft of her lips, and fire shot through her.

“Hermione,” Harry groaned out, “Are you ready for the finale?” Now that the moment was upon her, Hermione was suddenly afraid.

“Harry,” Hermione said, looking at him fearfully, “I've never…I'm still…this is my first time.” She finally said.

Harry was confused, and it showed on his face. “But…I thought…He said that…”

Hermione cut in, “He lied. We never did Harry, Never. I just, never could be comfortable enough with him to go all the way, and it didn't help that he kept pushing me for it all the time either. But…” She smiled then, “I'm glad I never did, so my first time can be with you.”

He smiled at that, but then he looked concerned. “Mione…Luna and I, we've been intimate before. This won't be the first…” Her soft hand on his lips stopped him, and she leaned closer to whisper to him.

“I know Harry, but I don't care. This is our first time, that's all that matters. That we're together now, and will be always.” Hermione sealed the promise with a kiss, and then slid downward, taking him in her hot, soft hand.

Harry hissed at the contact, and she smiled. Stroking him gently, she reveled in this new power. He was slowly thrusting into her hand, and she could see the battle for control in his darkened green eyes. She wanted to get the feel of him in her hand; she wanted to learn that special part of him with her clever fingers. He didn't seem to mind, judging by the way he whispered her name and his closed eyes. Moving her hand a little faster, she saw drops of precum dribbling out of him. Hermione's soft, pink tongue slowly passed her lips, gently licking the head of it, tasting his cum.

Harry's hips jerked a little, and it gave Hermione a feeling she'd never felt before. She felt so powerful, so seductive, so sexy that she could make him do that. To lose enough of his control to buck in her hand. She smiled, a smile of pure wanton lust. Hermione licked around the base of him, trailing the lip of it. Her wet tongue flicked down and licked his balls, before gently taking one, then the other in her soft mouth, sucking lightly. He whimpered, and her feeling of strength increased.

She would wait no longer, she wanted him in her mouth and she wanted him there now. Opening her lips just enough, she slowly slid him inside her wet, waiting mouth, tasting him fully for the first time. It was a musky, distinctive taste, all Harry, and it sent her lust filled brain into overdrive.

Harry let out a strangled, grunting moan, his hands were clenched on the bed sheets. She smiled again, and took even more of him into her mouth, sucking him gently. Another instinctive buck into her, and she was enjoying all of it. Until, Hermione felt Harry's hand softly land on the back of her head. Fear and panic flooded her, and she violently pulled away.

Harry's eyes flew open at the sudden movement. It had been amazing until then, Hermione's hot mouth was making him insane, it was so tight and wet. Wanting to let her know how good he felt, he had put his hand on her head. Harry's intention had been to stroke her hair, her face, maybe try to slow her down in case she started going too fast. While her mouth felt exquisite, he wanted to be inside her before he came. But her sudden movement when he touched her head changed that. He looked down at her face, and was horrified at the look of fear he saw there. He rose up quickly, but was afraid to touch her; he didn't know what was wrong and was afraid of making it worse.

“Mione? What is it? What happened? Did I do something wrong? Everything was going amazing, I thought. Do you want to stop? You don't have to go down on me if you don't want. I don't want to make you do anything you're uncomfortable with.” Harry knew he was babbling, but the look of fear on her face was scaring the shit out of him. “God, please tell me I didn't just ruin the best thing in my entire life.” Harry thought desperately.

Harry's stricken look made her soften; he couldn't have known why she had panicked. He was willing to cut off his own arm just to make her feel better. It wasn't his fault that it had brought back memories of Him and what he did.

“It isn't anything you did Harry, I promise. It's just something that I need to get over myself. Don't worry about it.” She moved to take hold of him again, but his hands were too fast for her. He quickly reached out and took her wrists gently.

“You aren't telling me something, Hermione. Remember how in tune we are with each other? I know my touching your head while you were going down on me freaked you out, it almost terrified you. So something had to have happened, something related to…” Harry trailed off. He now knew exactly what was wrong, or more accurately, exactly who had put this fear into her. Never before had Harry wanted to kill someone so badly in his entire life. Not even Riddle, and he had made Harry's life hell. But Riddle had never made the woman he loved afraid of him, not even for a second. Ron did.

“What did he do, Hermione? How did he hurt you?” Harry's voice was tightly controlled rage. The last thing he wanted was to scare Hermione anymore by lashing out at her. With resignation in her eyes, seeing the determination set on his face, she knew she could destroy this if she didn't come clean with him right now, so she answered him.

“He didn't really hurt me, Harry. Not the way you're thinking at least. I told you that he and I had never been intimate, and that's true. But we were a couple for a long time. So, naturally, we fooled around some. Never to his complete satisfaction, of course. He was always after me to go all the way and have sex with him. And I never would because I never felt comfortable enough with him. I discovered the reason for that when the one time I went down on him, after I thought it would make a decent compromise and get him off my back about sex for a while, and maybe make me more comfortable with him. What it ended up doing was completely stopping any kind of sexual relationship we had, because of the way he acted.

She took a deep breath and continued. “When I was going down on him, he kept his hand on the back of my head. Always forcing me to take him in farther, and never letting me get a good breath. He just kept forcing it into my mouth, choking me, and it scared me. I'd never felt so out of control before, I didn't like having my control taken away like that. I didn't like being forced to do that. Even though he isn't half the size you are, I still choked on it. I did mange to finally get him off and could breathe again. When I complained about it, he said I should just unlock my legs and let him fuck me. I was already a little freaked, and when he said that, I got pissed. I whipped out my wand and hexed his ass right there. We never had any kind of sexual relations since then. But, I couldn't bring myself to end it, like I said, I didn't think anyone else would want me, and I didn't want to lose the only relationship I'd ever had, no matter how horrible it was.” Hermione had started sniffling then, and it broke Harry's heart.

Quickly, he moved to her and gathered her in his arms, holding her tightly to him. He murmured quiet, soothing words into her ears. All the while thinking the next time he saw the Weasel, he would very likely break every bone in his body.

“Mione, I'm so sorry he hurt you, I'm sorrier that I brought it back and scared you. I meant what I said; don't do anything you're uncomfortable with. Believe me, you don't ever have to go down on me again, I'm more than happy with anything you'll give me. Just being with you makes me happier than anything ever has. I love you, and it would destroy me if I hurt you, even by accident.” Harry said softly

Hermione's heart filled, she felt her love for Harry multiplying. For a moment, she hated Ron with everything she had, for momentarily damaging the love Harry had for her, for the love she had for Harry. She raised her mouth to his and kissed him, knowing he could taste himself on her tongue, and the thought brought the rolling, wet heat back to her belly. She wanted to finish what she started, but Hermione knew that Harry was too afraid of hurting her or bringing back a bad memory, so she knew she'd have to take the initiative and let him know what he could do. Sucking on his upper lip, and pushing away her fear and bad memories, she said lowly and quietly, “I want to, Harry. I want to do this, and I want you to guide me while I'm doing it.”

Harry instantly hardened again at her words, but managed to retain enough of his upper faculties to say. “Love, I don't want to hurt…” But Hermione cut across him

“You won't hurt me, Love, I promise you won't. I know you could never hurt me. I trust you Harry, with my life, with my body and with my soul.” Hermione's fingers snaked between their bodies and took his aching length in her small, hot hand. “I want to do this. And I want your hands on the back of my head, telling me what to do. Please Harry, I want to do this. I want to lick and suck every inch of you, and I want you to help me do it.” Hermione growled low to him, stroking him in her hands.

“Alright, but stop me if I make you…”

“You won't. Trust me.” She smiled at him.

Hermione made him lay back down, and moved lower to his waist so she could finish what she started. She stroked him a few more times, before she took him back into her mouth, moaning around him. She felt him timidly put his hands on the back of her head, and she moaned again. Slowly, Hermione moved her tongue around the head of him, and then she sucked. Harry grunted, and she felt his hands gently sliding through her hair, and that horrible memory was being replaced by this amazing new one, of her bringing Harry off with just her mouth. And she loved every second of it. He stroked his fingers down her cheek as she made her own strokes, taking him to the back of her mouth. Hermione wanted him deeper, so she used what she had read about, relaxing her jaw and breathing through her nose.

Slowly taking him deeper, her tongue and mouth were working absolute magic on him. Hermione stretched her lips, worked her jaw and relaxed her throat muscles, taking him in even deeper. She was concentrating so hard on making him feel good and wanting herself to do well; she didn't notice how far Harry was inside her till her nose touched his pubic hair. Opening her eyes, she saw that she was centimeters from Harry's stomach. She had done it, she had deepthroated his entire massive length, and she felt amazing at her accomplishment. Now that she wasn't so distracted, she could hear the strangled groans of Harry above her, looking up at him, she could see his amazed face watching her.

“Holy…God Hermione, that feels so good! I can't believe…I never thought…You're so amazing!” Hermione smiled around his length at the thought that she had made him as speechless as she had been when Harry gave her those mind-blowing orgasms. Slowly, she worked him back out of her throat, then plunged back down, her muscles contracting around him.

Harry had never felt anything quite like this, her throat muscles were working his entire length, and it felt heavenly. She deepthroated him again, and Harry just marveled at the talented Miss Granger's tongue, mouth, and throat. He realized though, if she kept up this pace, he'd blow in her talented throat, and he wanted to be inside her before he came, wanted to be inside her as she came. He gently held her head back, before she sucked him in again.

“As amazing as that feels Hermione, as amazing as you are…I want to be inside you before I cum. And you keep doing that, I won't last that long.” Harry gasped out to her. She smiled, a smile of pure lust and seduction, the smile of a seductress played across her lips.

“So long as you promise to let me finish one day.” She said, a finger between the lips of her naughty siren smile.

“That's a promise Mione. Get on top, I want you to control how fast this goes, if it hurts too much, then stop. Don't worry about me; I want this to be as painless as possible for you.” Harry said, remembering his first time with Luna. It had been horrible to watch as he thrust into her the first time. It had felt amazing, but the look on her pained face had pushed all thoughts of pleasure out of his head. This time, he wanted Hermione to control it, and maybe it would be less painful for her.

“Did it hurt her? The first time Harry?” Hermione asked, blushing for even asking about his first time with Luna.

He sighed, “That's why I want you to control how fast this goes, so you can stop it if it hurts too much.” Hermione nodded, she got up on one knee and positioned herself over him.

“Before I forget.” Harry said simply, and then caressed her stomach gently. Hermione could feel warmth flooding her insides. “The Protection charm.” She smiled at him, thankful that he'd remembered, thankful that, even now, he would always be thinking about protecting her.

Parting her lips, she guided him inside her. He could feel how tight she was, heard her gasp as he entered her the first time. Then it stopped, he was pressed up against her, and knew this was it. Lacing his hands with hers, he locked his emerald green eyes on her chocolate brown ones.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Hermione decided to get it over with fast. Taking a deep breath, she sat down on him, fully sheathing him inside her. Pain…pain ripped through her stomach and she cried out, but there was also an underlying pleasure, and her senses rocked with the two feelings. Hermione took deep steadying breaths, staying perfectly still as she waited for the pain to subside. In a few moments, it did, and a new feeling overcame her. She felt full, complete. Feeling him inside her was like finally finding something she'd been missing all her life, the feeling of being joined with the man she loved.

Heat, boiling heat. Pressure, a tight wetness. Velvet; smooth, slick and absolutely exquisite. It was a feeling that Harry thought he knew, and while this was similar, it was so completely different. Because this time he was with Hermione, the woman he's loved all his life. He was finally joined with her, and it was magic. The kind of magic only two people so completely in love could make.

They moved together, as one. A concert of joy and pleasure. Every slide and thrust, every clenched muscle and gasping moan was pure bliss. Hermione felt like he was touching her very soul, and she never wanted it to end. They pushed against each other, meeting each other's thrusts and grinding together, sending shockwaves of pure pleasure through the other.

Hermione finally let go of Harry's hands and put them on his hard chest, concentrating on her center and how good it felt. He had other ideas for his hands. Sliding them up her soft body, Harry cupped her bouncing breasts, his thumbs massaging her hard nipples. She cried out, her erogenous zones were under his assault, and it pushed her closer to the edge. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her closer to him, taking her full breast into his mouth. Harry suckled on her hard nip, flicking it with his tongue, gently biting and nibbling on her, before switching to her other breast and repeating his delicious torture. Hermione moaned above him, and he grinned around her nipple. Capturing her other nipple between his lips, Harry hissed in Parseltongue §“You feel so good Mione.”§

She squeaked as the feeling of hundreds of tongues lashed at her swollen breast. Crying out, she held his head closer to her and moaned “Do it again, say it again Harry!” He smiled. Switching nipples, he hissed again, while he pounded into her harder and faster. Hermione squealed as he sped up, the sensations on her nipples and his harder thrusts inside her were sending her into orbit. Then his free hand slipped lower and rubbed her clit hard, and she went over. Hermione screamed as her orgasm rocked her body, lightning flying down her nerves. Harry held on to her tighter as she bucked and writhed against him. He slowed his thrusts down and helped her ride her orgasm out.

As her breathing and heart rate approached normal, Hermione collapsed against him. Her body was covered in sweat and her lungs were working overtime. So, she barely heard him as he whispered in her ear.

“Mione, ready for more?”

Her poor over stimulated brain took several seconds to process what he said, and in those few seconds, she realized he was still rock hard inside her.

“More?” she breathed.

Harry smiled against her skin and licked her neck, watching as she shivered. “I'm not through with you yet.” He growled lowly.

Hermione smiled and arched her body, pressing all sorts of delectable flesh against him. “By all means Love, ravish me again.” She whispered.

He chuckled against her throat; the vibrations danced down her nerves and helped bring the pool of her arousal back. She squeaked as he rolled them over, and Hermione found herself under Harry's body, his dark emerald eyes boring into her own chocolate brown ones. He kissed her then, stoking the fires of their passion once more. Harry's tongue slipped between her lips and caressed her own, daring her to follow him back to his mouth. As they kissed, he moved his hips, sliding in and out of her again. Hermione broke the kiss on a gasp, her head snapping back into the pillows. Harry took the opening, licking and kissing her neck, before gently biting her at her pulse point. She cried out as she felt Harry marking her. Marked her for the world to see, that she was his and his alone. He sucked and licked her throbbing neck, soothing the place where he marked her. “No wonder vampires like to bite necks.” Hermione idly thought, before her mind blanked at a particularly hard thrust of Harry's. Apparently, he decided play time was over. Bracing himself on his arms, he pounded into her with long, hard strokes. Hermione's nails raked down his chest as he worshipped her body, before she grabbed his hips and met his hard thrusts with her own.

Eyes met again, locked onto their lover's as they worked toward their release, each desperate to find their end while helping to bring their lover over. The moans and sighs filled the room as they moved ever closer, Harry sliding in and out of her tight wetness, Hermione doing everything she could to just pull him inside of her and keep him there. His lungs were like an overworked bellows, desperately trying to keep up with his furious pace.

Harry wanted her to cum and he wanted to cum with her. He was so close, he could almost taste it. Which gave him a wicked idea. Swooping down on her ear, Harry hissed §”I love you Hermione, cum for me.”§ Over and over he hissed it, his tongue flicking out and caressing her ear. His hand went to her breasts, to find her hands already there, working her nipples as she moaned in ecstasy. So he dipped lower, finding the place where they were joined. He pressed down on her clit, rubbing and pinching with his fingers.

Hermione screamed his name; the combined sensations flew her off that cliff. And as she rode her orgasm, her muscles spasmed and clenched around him, and he went over with her. Once, twice more he thrust into her, before he emptied himself inside her, his own scream of her name meeting her ears. She gasped as a mini orgasm hit her when Harry came inside her, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close to her, never wanting the feeling to end.

With his last ounce of strength, he rolled them back over, to keep from crushing her. Holding her close, Harry kissed her gently, his hands caressing her back, before they both slipped off to sleep, dreaming of the other.

A/N: I'll just warn everyone right now, I am not really happy with the 4^th chapter, and it isn't very long, just a quick wrap up of loose ends. Hope it doesn't ruin the story.

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Without You, There is Nothing

1. Harry's Perspective

2. Hermione's Perspective

3. Reconcile

4. The Aftermath