Without You, There is Nothing by gphoenix51

Rating: NC17
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 11/09/2008
Last Updated: 14/09/2008
Status: Completed

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?




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 5th
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 6th and 7th 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
5th 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
6th 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 6th 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.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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? H**e* *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.

-->



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.

**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?

**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 Tant� 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.

-->



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.

**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?

**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.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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 4th and 5th 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 4th 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* *G**od, 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.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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 4th
chapter, and it isn't very long, just a quick wrap up of loose ends. Hope it doesn't ruin
the story.

-->



4. The Aftermath
----------------



**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?

**A/N:** Well, this is the last chapter, and I'm very, *very* flattered at all the
great reviews I've gotten. I really don't know what to say, other than thank everyone over
and over. I hope everyone can enjoy this last chapter. I know it's criminally short, but
that's the way it happens sometimes. I didn't want to take away from the power of the last
chapter with anything too long. That and I quite honestly don't know if I could write anything
as strong as that last chapter again, in terms of the love and passion between Harry and Hermione.
With that, I'll let you dear readers read the last chapter, and I hope you all enjoy. Thank you
once again to all the readers and reviewers!

**Chapter 4** **- The Aftermath**

The next few weeks were some of the best and worst in Harry's life. The best, because he was
finally able to share his life with the woman he loved. After their first night together, Harry and
Hermione had Apparated over to her apartment, packed everything in record time, and moved her into
Black Manor. They celebrated their new relationship with an elegant gourmet meal that Dobby and
Winky almost had to blackmail Harry into letting them cook. The Elves were ecstatic that their
Master and Mistress had gotten together and went all out to show how happy for the both of them
they were. Later, Hermione had led Harry into the Potter-Black Library and they christened it by
making love on the research table. Hermione had confessed she had been dreaming about doing just
that ever since she first saw the Library.

Harry pulled in every favor he had and got both Hermione and himself a month's vacation.
She'd been upset at first, till Harry had sneakily reminded her that they could spend most of
that month in bed. She finally stopped smiling a few hours later, after they had both passed out in
exhaustion. Two weeks into their vacation, Harry took Hermione back to the rave club and they spent
most of the night dancing, finally reliving the night that had started this whole thing the way it
should have been.

After that, Harry decided that some sun was in order. He blindfolded Hermione and Apparated them
both to a private island in the Bahamas that the Potters owned. Being a private island, with no one
else on it, allowed the pair of them to work on their all over tans. Not to mention making love on
a moonlit beach, with the full moon sparkling on the crystal clear ocean. They spent the last two
weeks there, enjoying the company of the other, fully connecting with their beloved. It was there
that Harry asked Hermione to marry him. He had barely finished saying the words before he was
tackled to the ground in one of her famous lung crushing hugs, happy tears trailing down her face.
The new engaged couple spent hours enjoying the feeling of being completely enraptured in their
love. And it was a glowing Hermione and an ecstatic Harry that Apparated home to Black Manor.

But it all wasn't sun and fun. When Ron found out that Hermione was dating Harry and living
with him in the grand Black Manor, he didn't take it too well. In fact, saying he didn't
take it well was probably the understatement of the century. Mrs. Weasley wasn't happy either,
but neither Harry nor Hermione gave a damn. All she could really do was gripe to visitors at The
Burrow, and since neither of them ever went there anymore, she couldn't do anything to
them.

Ron, on the other hand, had a rather drastic revenge tactic in mind. Thankfully, he wasn't
too bright about it and The Twins had caught him reading a Pensieve Memory book and overheard him
on the Floo talking to someone about selling some “Dirty memories” for a large price, that would be
delivered as soon as he figured out how to copy his memories. Fred and George knew immediately what
he was planning, and while Fred Apparated over to Black Manor to tell Harry and Hermione, George
piled work on Ron to keep him busy and conveniently “lost” the Memory book.

Hermione was horrified, and Harry was so enraged that it took both Hermione and Fred to keep him
from Apparating over to the shop and killing Ron where he stood. Instead, the Twins and Hermione
came up with a particularly devious bit of revenge. George slipped him a Draught of Living Death
Potion into his Firewhisky when the Twins had an after-hours get together at the shop. As soon as
Ron was out, Harry and Hermione were summoned, and they got to work. First, Harry used his
Legilimency to enter Ron's mind and he found all of Hermione's private memories, everything
from the times he'd seen her naked to their disastrous last sexual act. Removing all of them
from his head, Harry left the knowledge that Ron had seen Hermione naked, but he could never
remember it. Hermione herself got her own brand of revenge, every time he tried to remember her
naked, or even thought about her at all, sharp pains would shoot through his body, converging in a
*very* personal place, only stopping when he stopped trying to think about her. The Twins
decided they'd keep him at the store, but only just. He was family after all. More importantly,
it let them keep their Marauder eyes on him. He ended up being the tester for their new Snackboxes
anyway, and if a few purposefully tampered with Snackboxes ended up getting tested, the Twins never
mentioned it.

Hermione's privacy secured, they washed their hands of Ron, never speaking to him again.
Mrs. Weasley never really accepted Harry and Hermione's relationship, and so the only
Weasley's they really kept in contact with were Arthur, Bill and Fleur, Charlie, Fred, George,
Angelina, Alicia and Katie. They were all invited to the double wedding of Neville and Luna and
Harry and Hermione, along with Remus and Tonks, Minerva McGonagall, Alastor Moody, Kingsley
Shacklebolt and Minister Bones, along with several other distinguished guests. Among them,
Hermione's parents, who were overjoyed for their only daughter, finally marrying the man
she's always loved, and just as important, loved her back.

Luna had been over the moon that Harry had finally found Hermione, and that the both of them
could finally be happy. When Hermione and Harry told their best friends about their engagement,
Luna and Neville immediately wanted to make it a double wedding, with the new Longbottom's
marrying first, and then the Maid of Honor and Best Man swapped places and became the Bride and
Groom. And as the new Mr. and Mrs. Potter kissed, they both had the same thought, that Without You,
There is Nothing.

**The End**

**A/N:** If anyone thinks it's a bit over the top for Ron to do what he was going to do,
just think about how many spurned boyfriends, girlfriends, wives and husbands there are who put
their ex's nude pictures and sex tapes on the Internet, this would be the Wizarding world
equivalent. Hope everyone enjoyed, and if this last chapter messes it up for you, you all have my
permission to end it at chapter 3 and pretend chapter 4 doesn't exist. Like I said at the
beginning, I'm not too happy with this chapter, but the plot bunny died before the end and I
haven't been able to make a better one.

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