Disclaimer: I don not own these characters.
Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long since an update. You've probably gotten that life has been hectic for me lately, but if not then there you have it; it's been hectic. I don't want anyone to think I've given up on this story. You've all been so kind in your reviews, and I'm going to try and finish it for you guys, also I kind of like this old thing myself. As always; reviews are greatly appreciated. Let me know what I'm doing right, what I'm doing wrong, thoughts, opinions and things maybe you'd like to see. Believe me it helps to motivate me. Thanks in advance. Enjoy.
Hermione's head rose and fell in a steady rhythm against Harry's bare chest. He had only been awake for a few seconds and was rather embarrassed to note to himself that he enjoyed the view too much to wake her. The problem therein was as obvious to him as it would have been to anyone in his position; he couldn't get up while she was asleep. Still, the way her hair would lightly bounce off her bare shoulders and the sound of rain was enough to let his lethargic mood stick with him for a little while. This was his moment. In time he would be locked in a battle for his life and the very fate of the world, he wondered if at that time he would recall this quiet, perfect moment.
Would it make him smile? Cast a quick lovelorn smirk at the face of his own death? Would that be enough to spite Voldermort? Or just confuse him? Still the rain pattered softly against the window pane. The relaxing noise making the room seem displaced in time, as if the whole of the universe melted away and had become this room and it's two loving occupants. Harry had very little happiness in his life, what he got he cherished. His friends, his school, his life as a wizard with his fate removed.
This feeling was something else altogether. A new and fantastic feeling. He felt content, not elated, no, smaller than that. There was a natural warmth in his blood and a feeling of safety pressing in around him like a comfortable blanket. This feeling was new to him, he knew that when the moment was over he would long for the feeling to return. He wondered how this amazing witch, resting so peacefully on his chest could instill such a strong new emotion in him. He had loved her for a very long time, that much he knew, but not until now did the weight of it, the enormity of that feeling, really hit him. She meant everything to him.
What had happened between them was not what he had expected either. He certainly had no intention of it when he came to her door. He just wanted to explain to her… but that wasn't quite right either. He wanted to see her. He felt cold and empty when she wasn't there. His mind would race, strategy on top of lingering despair and regret all on top of more strategy with some rudimentary and ill defined tactics for battles unsought all floating around in his head, threatening to break free and send him quaking to his knees at any moment. Not with her there, though. He could only think of her. Her and the unexpected surprises she shored up in his life.
He had always thought that making love would be a sticky, messy, dirty kind of affair. This turned out to be inaccurate. With her it was awkward at first, but eventually so sweet and powerful. An image of her face staring into his eyes while he moved inside her floated to the top of his mind and stained his cheeks a light pink. He looked down to her. She looked content, as if she too had found the solace in his comfort that he had found in hers. He hoped she had.
He brushed some hair from her face, gently as possible so as not to wake her. She let out a soft moan and nuzzled her face against his chest, burying herself in his scent, in their scent. He noticed then that the room smelled of them. It was an odd smell. Two parts sweat six parts hormones but also something sweetly stale. It was not an unpleasant smell, just unique. He enjoyed it solely for the memories it conjured. The smell acted as a kind of tonic for his mind, focusing it on what mattered most: her.
He craned his neck and kissed her forehead. She began to stir. He wondered in that moment what the conversation would be, how it would start, what they would say. He became nervous about his own words, worried about talking to someone he had confided for years. Of course she was always the one to set his mind at ease, and intended or not, her first word to him did just that.
"Hello." She said with a kind of awkward cuteness.
"Hello." He responded in kind.
"Have you been up terribly long?" She asked as she stroked his bare chest.
"Only a minute or so." He answered.
"How long were we out?" She asked as she rotated her head to look at him, exposing one of her breasts to his eye in he process.
"I don't know. It's hard to tell." And it was, everything before what they had done seemed a lifetime ago. Now they had a kind of trust they only played at before. She was so comfortable with her own nudity in his presence that it barely resembled the scared young woman who couldn't look him in the face before. Everything had changed so fast, only it didn't disorient at all.
Hermione began to get up. She shifted her weight to her right leg as she straddled his waist and crawled up his body. Her nipples brush his chest on her way up before settling down on his chest. Her face hovered over his as a wave of lighthearted passion washed over the both of them. She smiled an innocent smile, her bedroom eyes the only thing that gave away the sweet schoolgirl image she normally conveyed and pushed her look to womanly and seductive. She lowered her face and whispered sweet nothings his way. When he returned her smile she coyly batted her eyes and gave him a powerfully romantic kiss. The symphony of cascading rain a trumpet to announce their love to the room.
* * *
Ron sneezed for what felt like the hundred thousandth time as he sat miserable in his soaking clothes. His eyes scanned the heavens for some potential break in the rain. All he saw was the same horrid slate gray he had seen all day. His shift should have ended an hour and a half ago, but he knew that Harry and Hermione probably needed time to be alone. He hoped they would act on their love in the time he was giving them. He also hoped that he wouldn't catch a cold out here.
He had watched people come and go for so long he began to envy the ministry officials their ability to get out of the rain. The one thing that had surprised him, and he'd check with Harry when next he saw him, was that the number of people entering the ministry seemed so much fewer. It was possible that so many witches and wizards were in hiding. Even if no one knew He-who-must-not-be-named was active once again anyone with any kind of brain had to realize the dark times they faced. Everything even felt vaguely funereal. Ron wondered how much longer the sickly feeling of being pressed could last.
The whole world gave him that backed into a corner feeling these days. He knew deep in his soul that Harry could free them of all this depressing darkness, he only worried what the cost would be. Ron didn't know if he had it in him to weather losing Harry, or anyone he cared for when all was said and done. He hoped against hope that he could make it through these black days and live to see a comfortable bright day in the future. He would give Those two a few more hours before packing it in and heading back to the manor. He hoped they appreciated the sacrifice he was making for them. He knew they wouldn't. He sneezed loudly into the street before sinking his head into the collar of his damp jacket for warmth.
* * *
Neville had said tomorrow be damned, but he hadn't fully appreciated what that meant until the next day. He lay in bed looking at the ceiling, waiting for it to change as some kind of indicator that it was time to get up. Next to him sleeping soundly, and rather more naked than he remembered was Ginny. His gaze would linger on her for long moments at a time before he became nervous that she would catch him staring at her rather attractive parts through the thin sheet covering her form and let his gaze drift back to the ceiling. No matter how hard he tried he would find his gaze back on her round curvy hips, her firm supple bosom and the part of her anatomy he now knew so intimately. He had no idea how he would handle this.
He also didn't know that she was grappling with the same mixed emotions. Her eyes only opened a liver so she too could look at the more attractive portions of his anatomy without him noticing. She noticed him doing the same and felt a swoon of warmth spread through her body and across her face. Her cheeks burned a scarlet color, and she hoped he wouldn't notice. She was even more concerned with the consequences of this decision. She certainly couldn't show favoritism to Nev, she wondered if she should even share this information with the rest of her team. Would it even matter to the group? Would they be happy? Would it hinder their ability to find and aid Harry? Neville spoke up first.
"So…" He tried to find the right words to express to her his feelings for her, but was unable to come up with anything, so he changed tracks to cover, "…I think we need to try and think like Harry, if we're ever going to find him."
"Nev." Ginny batted her eyes at him.
"No really." He continued, "This following his trail seems to always end with us way too late to the scene. We need to be more proactive. Be there before him for once."
"No, Nev." She removed the thin covering from her body, and used her pointer finger to summon him closer to her. "It's a great idea, sweetheart, but I don't want to do much talking right now."
Neville's jaw dropped before he nodded in a dumbfounded but pleased way and inched closer to her form. Soon they were lost in the throes of passion.
* * *
Somewhere between Ron's appearance in the house and the meal Kretcher threw together Harry and Ron had talked about the dwindled number of workers in the ministry. As Harry ate his egg-on-toast a plan was beginning to make it's way up from the deepest part of his mind. He figured that by dinner he'd have something more concrete. He decided to temporarily suspend the duty of casing the ministry for the day so he could concentrate on his planning, on the facts and on something they could do to put both elements together.
Hermione would cast the occasional glance and smile his way now and then, making both of them blush furiously. Harry wasn't dumb enough to think Ron hadn't noticed he was just wise enough to keep away from him for the rest of the day. After breakfast, Harry excused himself to his room. He sat up there bouncing his bouncing ball snitch substitute off the bedroom wall nonchalantly while he let his mind wander.
Random images would float up now and then. He could see the walls of the ministry, open and marble. He knew from experience that if you aimed a hex just right it would sometimes ricochet off the polished marble. He also know that these days without the proper id and appearance it was impossible to gain entrance to the ministry. Hermione had begun brewing a fresh batch of Polyjuice potion days ago when she decided that replacing three employees would get them in. Harry knew Umbridge had the locket, he also knew that the Polyjuice potion had a small window of opportunity. Harry had picked out three people who worked on different floors to be the unwilling participants in the Polyjuice potion fiasco. Even managed to get hair from them on one of his shifts watching the ministry.
His plan began to take shape. All he needed was the right timing. He had to get
the timing right or it would all fall apart. Meanwhile downstairs Ron and Hermione
exchanged worried glances. They both knew that Harry planned to break up the trio once
the ministry mission was accomplished. They also knew that they both had too much
stake in him to let that happen. These were dark times indeed.