At Shell Cottage

JKR owns.

At Shell Cottage

Chapter One

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[AN] Probably AU. I didn’t really read DH, so I’m not sure of all the details. Anyway, this is definitely a two-shot, hopefully the prelude to a future fic :]

Please enjoy!

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(Shell Cottage; 9:49 p.m.)

There was a knock at the door and Bill stuck his scarred face in, “Hey you guys, dinner’s ready. Hermione, Fleur’s making something special for you but it’s not quite done yet.”

The trio turned from their discussion- well more of an animated lecture that Ron was giving Harry and Hermione- and looked back to Bill. The oldest Weasley was practically a saint in their eye’s right now, for letting them all come back to Shell Cottage. Hermione’s injuries from the Malfoy Mansion proved to be a little more difficult to heal then they had originally thought. She needed more attention than a quick ‘episkey’ could do. Ron and Harry were just visiting her; trying to take a break from talking about future plans to destroy another horcrux, but finding it quite hard to do. What else was there to talk about beside their potentially impending doom?

Ron had resulted to telling Hermione about the recent quidditch match between the Appleby Arrows and the Kenmare Kestrels. Hermione, and Harry too, were quite bored out of their mind. Both were grateful for the interruption- Ron wouldn’t be able to resist the pull of freshly cooked food.

As was expected, Ron turned immediately for the door while Hermione sent Bill an appreciative smile, “That’s nice of her.”

“We’ll be back in a little bit Hermione. You coming mate?” Ron asked, glancing back to Harry.

Harry shook his head, “Nah, I’m going to stay with Hermione.”

Both Ron and Hermione shot Harry inquisitive looks, but he ignored them. Finally Ron just shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

As the two Weasley’s left, Harry walked back to the door to gently close it. When he turned back around, Hermione was giving him a probing look, “How come you’re staying with me?”

Harry shrugged, “You would have stayed with me.”

“I would have…” Hermione muttered, nodding quietly.

Harry walked over to her bed and sat down at the edge. He reached out and placed his hand over her bandaged wrist, “How are you feeling? Seriously.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

Hermione was dead silent for a moment before answering, “I don’t know.”

Harry frowned, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I-” Hermione took a deep breath before forcing herself to stare into Harry’s eyes, “The confusion in my head hurts worse than the pain in my body.”

Harry gave her a confused look, “Why are you confused? Is there something I could do to help?”

She took another deep breath, figuring now was as good a time as ever to bring it up, “When they took me from the dungeons… I heard someone screaming my name.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, Ron was going ballistic.”

“Ron. Oh.”

Harry was completely perplexed by Hermione’s attitude, “Doesn’t that make you feel, er, happy?”

“I guess,” Hermione said with a careless shrug.

“Is that what had you so confused?”

Again, she shrugged, “I just didn’t know if it was you or Ron.”

Harry was still giving her a quizzical stare. He could sense that Hermione didn’t feel any better, “You don’t look very satisfied now that you found out. Is something else wrong?”

She was quiet for a few long seconds. Harry was just about to repeat his question when she spoke in a whisper, “I’m wrong…”

Harry frowned in shock, “What are you talking about? How are you wrong?”

Hermione sighed, and glanced up to meet his burning emerald eyes, “You save everyone else. It just seems like the one time I really needed you, you didn’t want to save me. So I guess I’m wrong for you.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. Appalled, confused, shocked, befuddled, and angry were some of the words that described how he was feeling at her brief two sentences.

All he could think to do was shake his head. He couldn’t let her believe that, “Hermione-”

“’Ello ‘Ermione! Oh, ‘Arry- you’re food iz getting quite cold. ‘Ou should ‘urry and eat.” Fleur brushed past Harry and positioned herself next to Hermione so that Harry couldn’t get a view of her grateful expression. She was happy that Fleur had decided to burst in when she did.

Harry however was trying to keep from boiling over. Hermione’s words kept repeating over and over in his head. How the hell could she think that he didn’t want to save her?! Why did Ron get all the credit- just because he tried to bash a door down?

Completely frustrated, and fed up with Fleur telling him to go and Hermione not making eye contact with him, Harry finally left the small room in a fury. However, he didn’t go to the kitchen to eat with Bill, Ron, and Griphook. He stalked straight to his and Ron’s room, and slammed the door shut behind him.

…

(11:37 p.m.)

Harry couldn’t sleep knowing that Hermione felt as if he didn’t care for her. And he couldn’t let her sleep either. Finally making a decision, Harry glanced over to the blanketed lump that was Ron’s body. He waited until his unconsciousness could be confirmed with a snore before Harry threw the blanket off himself and sat up from the floor.

Immediately, he grabbed for his invisibility cloak wadded up in Hermione’s small, bottomless purse. He covered himself completely before heading for the door. Creaking it open as gently as possible, he only spared enough room so that he could slip through. Once he was free, he tiptoed as quietly down the hall as possible, hurrying his way towards the room Hermione was staying in.

His heart was thumping loudly as he finally made it to Hermione’s room and reached out for the door handle. Little to his surprise though, the door was locked. His jaw clenched at the pure notion that Hermione was trying to keep him out. He knew she didn’t just lock it for any old reason…

With a determined look on his face, Harry reached his hand forward and grasped onto the door knob tightly. Deep down, he knew that no matter the strength of Hermione’s undoubtedly powerful locking spell, it was no match for his internal strength. He just had to concentrate on expelling it outwards…

Nearly a minute passed with Harry gripping onto the door handle before there was a clicking sound. His eyes had closed shut in order to focus, but as soon as he heard the sound of his victory, they snapped open excitedly. A grin flickered across his lips as Harry opened the door and slipped through.

He had to stop short at the image he was met with. Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure if sneaking in on her in the middle of the night was such a good idea. The spectacle in front of him was quite… beautiful. Only, he knew he shouldn’t think that. Why? Because it was Hermione.

Hermione was laying asleep in bed, laying on her side so that she was facing Harry. The first thing he noticed was that the strap on her tank top had slipped from her shoulder, and was hanging limply down her arm. The lack of security caused for the top of Hermione’s breast to be uncovered, almost enticingly so. It also showed the cleavage that Harry never knew his childhood best friend had. Her wrist was still wrapped up and resting close to her chest. The blanket, however, had somehow repelled from Hermione’s body during the night. The duvet dipped below Hermione’s waist, and exposed some of her naked thigh, and the short, short shorts she was sleeping in. Instantly, Harry found himself wondering how Hermione’s upper thighs could be so tan… Ginny’s thighs weren’t at all like that…

He was torn between wanting to stare open mouthed at her and knowing that he should probably cover his eyes. Well not cover his eyes- that was an over exaggeration. But still, this was the most amount of skin he had ever seen Hermione show. Unconsciousness be damned.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Harry began walking towards Hermione’s resting form. As he went, he pulled the invisibility cloak off him, and then sat down on the edge of the bed once he was close enough. Gently, and as light as a feather, Harry reached over and tugged her tank top strap up her arm and placed it back on her shoulder. He noticed goose bumps rise up on Hermione’s bare shoulder as he did so, and when he was finished, traced his fingers back over the tender skin.

Harry sat like that for a few minutes, just stroking his fingers over Hermione’s naked arm. The strokes became longer in length, and every time he touched a new patch of skin, goose bumps would rise up so that Harry could smooth them back down. It was a very simple activity, maybe even a weird one, but to him it was mesmerizing. He’d never really taken into account how smooth Hermione’s skin was.

This continued on for a few minutes until his strokes finally brought him down to her wrapped wrist. A frown replaced the content look on his face as his fingers worked over the rough cast. How could she really believe that he hadn’t tried to save her? Maybe he hadn’t verbally went crazy like Ron had, but in his head, his emotions were like blasts of dynamite. Maybe she was right. He had been desperate to keep her safe this entire time, and when they took her, the thought of not being able to stop them hit him full blast. He had shut down; he’ll admit it. The thought of never seeing Hermione again, of being locked in a dungeon cell while the death eaters did Merlin knows what to her, gnawed at his brain like a teething baby gnaws at their first cookie.

One thing was for sure: Harry would never forgive himself for making Hermione feel like he didn’t care.

Damn it, he should have tried to bust the door down with Ron. At least that wouldn’t have put him in the situation he was in right now. How could he really convince her, without sticking his foot in his mouth or making the both of them uncomfortable, that she meant the world to him, and that he’d always save her when she needed to be saved? He never thought that coming up with something to say to Hermione would be so hard…

His fingers were just starting to trail down her side, about to reach down and pull the covers back over her when a sound broke the silence. A gasp, to be exact.

Before Harry could even blink, Hermione’s hand came out of nowhere and swatted his hand off her waist. Harry jumped off the bed in a fright as Hermione pulled the covers back over her barely clothed body.

“I’m sorry!-”

“What the hell?-” The two both exclaimed at the same time. Hermione sat up in the bed, but kept the blankets secured up to her neck. She gave Harry, who had just stuffed his hands in his pajama pockets and was staring down at his socked feet, an aghast look.

“Harry what are doing in here?” she asked in a much lower tone after regaining her breath.

Harry shrugged, still not making eye contact, “Um, I, uh- I…” He finally glanced up at Hermione who was giving him an impatient ‘spit-it-out’ type of look, “I- I just wanted to talk to you. About earlier…”

Hermione let out a breath, dismayed more than relieved, “Can’t this wait until morning?”

“No. We need to clear things up right now.”

Hermione started to become flustered, “Harry-”

“Look, it wasn’t like I didn’t care, or I thought that you were unworthy of my saving. I wanted to be the one to save you. I just- I didn’t know how. I felt like a failure, because for the first time in my life, there was literally nothing I could do. That, and I was too caught up in the fact that I’d probably never see you again to think of any possible way to get out of our cell and save you. I felt like it was out of my control, until Pettigrew came along. And then, with everything that we were coming in on- I…” Harry stopped. Suddenly, he glanced over to Hermione with a look that Hermione had never seen on him before. He looked vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I’m so sorry.”

Hermione bit her lip while shaking her head, “It’s okay Harry. I shouldn’t have confronted you like that. Attacked you, more like.”

“I deserved it. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have even been there in the first place,” Harry continued sadly.

Hermione made a skeptical sound, trying to lighten the mood. She didn’t want Harry to feel guilty over her stupid issue, “I would have found my way into trouble sooner or later…”

Harry grinned at her, “Well I can’t argue with that. I mean, you were always getting me and Ron into trouble some way or another.”

“Sure, blame the girl…” Hermione scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes.

Harry continued to smile, “Can I ask you something though?”

“What?”

“What made you say it? Like… do I really make you feel like you’re wrong for me?” he asked, his disparaging tone back again.

Hermione sighed. She didn’t know how to explain this to him without making herself out to be a silly cow, “I don’t know… it’s just that you save everyone. And when I heard the screams, I thought it was you freaking out. I was positive that you were going to save me…”

“It was Ron, though…”

Hermione tried not to roll her eyes, “Yeah. You’ve said.”

“Why doesn’t that make you feel happy?” Harry asked curiously. He thought that would have made her feel all… special, or whatever. Since she fancied Ron, wouldn’t she have wanted him to be the one to save her?

“I- I don’t know Harry. I can’t explain it.”

Harry nodded before glancing back up to her own pained expression. What was he doing? Obviously, trying to give Ron credit wasn’t working for her. He might as well try to save himself. That was his reason for breaking in here anyway- he didn’t want her to feel like he didn’t care, “I was like, paralyzed-”

“I know.”

Harry sighed. Maybe she didn’t want to hear him trying to explain himself either. Even though she wasn’t really cooperating with his attempts, he still had to ask, “How come you wanted me to save you over Ron?”

Hermione shrugged. Harry thought she was about to explain, but much to his surprise, she stayed quiet.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t care. It’s not at all like you’re wrong for me. If anything I don’t deserve you-”

Again, Hermione cut him off, “Yes, you do.”

“You sure?” Harry asked jokingly, trying to get Hermione to crack a smile.

However she continued to look serious, and stared him straight in the eyes as she responded, “I’m positive.”

“Why?” Harry whispered. It was all he could think to ask. Everyday that went by, he was more and more shocked that Hermione hadn’t disappeared in the middle of the night. He couldn’t understand why she would want to be risking her life like this instead of being safe, obliviously safe, in Australia with her parents. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful. He needed Hermione, more than he needed anyone else. It was just that he didn’t understand why she didn’t want better for herself.

“This is about you deserving me, correct? And I think you do. It’s as simple as that.”

“It’s not so simple, Hermione,” Harry muttered, shaking his head.

Hermione sighed, turning her eyes away from his and down to the fluffy comforter, “You know, sometimes you don’t realize how amazing you are.”

“I can say the same for you.”

She raised an eyebrow as she looked back to him, “If you’re calling me amazing as in smart, then yes, I do realize I’m smart.”

“It’s not just that though…”

Hermione tilted her head curiously, “How else then?”

Harry started to fidget as Hermione stared down on him relentlessly. Finally he started to speak, “You’re amazing- like, you’re… you know…”

She shook her head, “I really don’t.”

Harry scrubbed an anxious hand over his face before giving her a penetrating look, “So yes, you are the smartest person I’ve ever met, but you’re funny too. You’re witty, and you’re brave. You’re incredibly loyal, even if I don’t understand why-”

“I’m loyal to you,” she pointed out bluntly. If anything, she wanted him to know that.

“I know,” Harry muttered to himself dully. As Harry glanced back up to her he caught sight of her frown. He quickly rectified himself, “I appreciate how loyal you are to me. And I love that you are… it’s just that I don’t get why.”

“I have no reason not to be, that’s why.”

Harry gave her a searching look. Is that what she really believed? Everyone in association with him usually winded up getting hurt, but here she was telling him that she was loyal to him? Like it didn’t matter to her?

“Hermione-”

“You were my first real friend, Harry,” Hermione told him quietly.

“Were? So are we not friends anymore?” he asked her with a smirk. Again, he was expecting some sort of lighthearted reaction out of her, but she looked as solemn as ever.

She shrugged, “I guess we are.”

“You guess?” Harry asked, fighting back his flash of panic, “What, are you like counting down the days or something?”

Hermione sighed, “Harry, as your best friend I promised you I’d help you through the war. But, once this is all over, I think I’m going to have to move on. It’s just kind of hard for me to keep living like this.”

And that was it. What Harry had been expecting to hear from her for a long, long time now. No one was invincible from him or the plain he unwillingly inflicted. Hermione obviously was starting to realize that. After six years of being placed in the limelight with him, the wear and tear of the negative attention had clearly taken its toll on her.

Finally, Harry let out what he intended to be an even breath, “Well I’m sorry I dragged you into this. You can go home anytime if you like.”

“Harry, that’s not what I mean. I want to be here with you, but it’s just hard for me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Exactly. And I’m not brave enough to explain it,” she mumbled off to herself.

Harry caught on and narrowed his eyes, “Why is it so difficult to explain to me why you feel like you can’t be my friend anymore?”

“I don’t know Harry, it just is. Look, it’s late-”

Hermione had started shaking her head, and turning so that Harry couldn’t look her in the face. He pulled her arm back so that he could look her in the eyes, “There has to be a reason why. Hermione…”

Harry was shocked to see her in the state she was in. He felt the immense need to comfort her as he watched the tears roll down her cheeks, but was also consumed with guilt. What had he done to make her feel so low of herself? Why did she feel the need to cry over him?

He couldn’t think of anything better to do, so he gently leaned forward on the bed and brought her in to him. Hermione was stiff at first, trying to shrug him off, but Harry persisted. After a few seconds, Hermione caved in and buried her head in Harry’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m being such a b-baby,” she sniffled against his night shirt. She had already cried enough that night, while the others were eating and she was getting ready for bed. To be so weak in front of Harry was humiliating beyond belief. Really, his embrace was only torturing her more. Yet, she couldn’t find the strength to pull away. She’d dreamt about him holding her like this, comforting her, for a while now.

“Maybe you don’t really want to distance yourself from me,” Harry whispered to her. He didn’t really know where the words came from. To be honest, he was reveling in how perfectly Hermione fit into his arms. Her tears were wetting through his t-shit and her warm breath was sticking against the base of his throat. It was strange to Harry, but he found himself being unable to think very straight at the moment.

Hermione snorted to herself, “Maybe… but I have to. I can’t be like this anymore…”

“Hermione, if it’s something that I did, then will you just tell me so I can fix it? Please?” He hoped that pleading with her might do the trick, but then again he knew Hermione. Once she got her mind on one track, it was very hard to sway her otherwise.

Hermione gave him a sad look before shaking her head, “You didn’t do anything.”

Harry sighed and brought his hand up to wipe away the tear streaks on her cheek, “Well, will you tell me anyway so I can fix it?”

Hermione’s eyes had drifted shut upon Harry’s touch. It was in that moment that a feeling hit Harry. One that he had never before felt. He blinked twice before reevaluating the two’s close proximity. It was Hermione… Merlin, she was beautiful.

How had he never noticed this before? His fingers lingered on her cheek as he breathed out her name.

“Hermione…”

She opened her eyes timidly, unaware of how close she and Harry actually were. There was a strange look on his face, and for a second she thought she might’ve had something on her face. But then something happened. Harry was moving closer…

Hermione sucked in a breath as Harry’s eyes slid shut. And even though she was shocked by his actions, she couldn’t resist the pull of her own instincts. With her breath still held, she leaned in the few remaining inches.

When their lips met, it was unlike anything either of them had ever felt. For Harry, her lips were so lush and soft that it was almost mind-blowing. Hermione’s reaction was similar; his musk and heat was invading her senses in a way that far surpassed any of the kisses she ever dreamt about with him. Honestly, she could not believe that freaking out and crying on him would lead to a kiss. That had to mean that he felt some sort of attraction towards her, didn’t it?

Merlin, she hoped so. Harry’s hand traveled across her cheek and to the nape of her neck, where he kept his hand firmly pressed there. Hermione wanted to see who would break the kiss first, but as the time past she was finding it harder to breath.

When she finally pulled back, she took in a much needed breath. As both their eyes opened back up, they met in an intense gaze. They were both in awe and confused at the exact same time…

“Harry-”

“Hermione-”

Both of their cheeks were starting to tinge pink. Hermione took advantage of his quietness, “Did you mean to do that?” she asked lowly. Her lips were still slightly parted from the pressure of their kiss.

“No, I-I mean yes… I’m sorry-”

“You are?”

It was hard to look away from her when Hermione stared like that. He knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid the truth, “No, not really.”

“Did you like it?” Hermione whispered shyly.

Harry didn’t hesitate, “Yes.” He was surprised by his immediate answer. But after a second of rational thinking, he found his answer to be true. Hermione’s plump pink lips were all he could think about, and all he wanted at the moment.

“Do you want to stay tonight?”

“What?”

Hermione was mortified by his question. Bloody hell, she was an idiot! ‘Oh please let him just forget that…’

But Harry couldn’t do such a thing, “Hermione,” he started, moving his hand back so that it was laying against her cheek, “Will you be honest with me?”

Hermione didn’t need him to clarify what he meant. But that didn’t mean she wanted to answer. She tried to move her face out of his grip so that she could look away and try and talk her way out of their awkward situation.

Harry didn’t let her budge, “Hermione.”

With a sigh, she forced herself to look directly into his eyes. The very same eyes she had fallen in love with over the years. With that thought in mind, and knowing that she wouldn’t be able to piece together a intelligible sentence- Hermione leaned into him again.

When their lips met for the second time that night, the fervor was definitely different. It wasn’t the shy, testing kiss they had shared a minute earlier. It was… quite passionate on Hermione’s part. Harry was surprised by her vigor, but it took him about a total of two seconds to get over his shock. Before he knew it, his hands were back on the nape of her neck, forcing her closer.

As the minutes passed, Harry was becoming restless with his position next to Hermione. His body wanted to get closer, yet his mind was warning him to keep his boundaries. Though, it seemed as if Hermione could care less about the boundaries Harry wanted to respect. That fact was clear when Hermione shyly broke the barrier of their pressed lips and touched her tongue delicately to his mouth.

Harry’s eyes popped open for a brief second, long enough to get a glimpse of the diffident, yet determined look on Hermione’s face. A part of him was telling him to stop the kiss, before they both got carried away and did something they might regret. However, Harry was unable to deny the pull he felt towards Hermione at the current moment. He didn’t want to end the kiss; a fact that his fast beating hear could easily attest to.

Finally, after what seemed like forever to both the teens, Harry responded to Hermione’s advancements. He opened his mouth, and tenderly touched his tongue to hers.

Hermione tried to smooth over her nervousness at the new, exotic feeling, but Harry could still tell that she had never snogged before. Honestly, he was quite happy at that aspect, and proud that he was the one to show her the way, so to speak. A first kiss held a monumental place in a person’s life, and Harry was delighted that the sacredness of Hermione’s first kiss would always belong to him.

Unbeknownst to Harry, Hermione was planning on giving much more of herself to him that night…

The kiss was escalating fast, but neither Harry nor Hermione were backing away from the intensity. Harry was really starting to fidget at his position on the edge of the bed. Hermione noticed, and was eager to do something about it. Surprising Harry, she broke the kiss and scooted herself back. Without breaking eye contact, she lowered herself back onto the pillows.

Harry only paused for a second before turning and climbing up on the bed next to her. He didn’t place himself fully on top of her. What if that wasn’t what she had intended? Instead, he braced one arm around her before leaning in to her pouted lips.

Hermione responded with enthusiasm, bringing her hands up to tangle in his messy hair. She pushed her tongue back into his mouth.

Again, Harry was slightly taken aback by her exuberance, but that didn’t stop him from kissing her back just as fiercely. Due to her force, the few inches that Harry had originally given himself to hover over her, were squashed. Half of his chest was pressed flat against hers. Harry could feel Hermione’s erratic heartbeat in tune with his own.

Harry really wasn’t focused on anything but their movements. He wasn’t thinking about the implications of their actions, or of the consequences. As far as he knew, he was in some mind-blowing fantasy. This kind of amazing never have happened to him, especially in the harsh reality they were all currently living in.

However, this was reality. He wasn’t dreaming. And that firm slap-in-the-face realization came to him in the form of a moan. A low, breathless, seductive moan.

Hermione’s moan.

Harry’s eyes flew open, and instantly he pushed himself up and away from Hermione’s panting chest. He had never used the word sexy to describe Hermione before. But, sexy was the only word that seemed appropriate enough to describe her right now.

‘Bloody hell, Hermione is sexy. And we’re kissing…’

“Wait- have you thought about what we’re doing right now?”

Hermione tried to replace her nervous, questioning look with a confident one, but she still came off looking quite vulnerable. She shook her head, “I don’t want to think tonight.”

They both looked scared, but neither of them wanted to admit it. As bizarre as the night was turning out to be, they both didn’t want it to end.

Harry took a deep breath before asking her his final question, “Are you sure?”

Hermione released her bit lip and nodded, “Positive.”

Harry stared at her an extra second, giving her enough time to change her mind if she wanted to. That moment passed, followed by another moment just in case. Still, Hermione kept quiet.

He couldn’t hold off any longer. If she wanted this just as bad as he, then he wouldn’t keep her waiting. Harry crawled back over and leaned in to reconnect their lips. This time, he moved fully on top of her. Hermione welcomed his added weight. She opened her legs, and Harry slowly settled in between them…

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REVIEW!

Please<3

JKR owns.

At Shell Cottage

Chapter Two

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[AN] Sorry it’s taken me so long. I’ve just been trying to figure out how I can end this the way I want and still have it make sense. :P

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(Shell Cottage; 8:11 a.m.)

When Hermione woke up the next morning, she felt… different. There was a soreness coming from below her navel, but it wasn’t like actual pain. It was more of a welcoming soreness. That soreness meant that she was now a woman.

And it was all thanks to Harry Potter.

Who would have guessed that Harry and Hermione would be the ones to lose their virginities first, and to each other no less? Before last night, it had only been one of Hermione’s wildest dreams. But now, it was looking very much like her reality.

With her eyes still closed, a small grin spread across her swollen lips. The idea of her and Harry together seemed so surreal to her.

Blindly, she reached out to where she thought Harry’s naked body would be. She patted around on the cold sheets for a few moments before she finally opened her eyes. Her small smile slowly disappeared.

Hermione quickly sat up from the bed, clutching the sheets to her chest. Her eyes scanned the white-washed room, but found no one. She looked over the bed, trying to get a glimpse of Harry’s rumpled pajama’s. However, they were gone.

Harry was gone.

The thrill she had been experiencing slipped away from her in a blunt manner; like snow falling from a tree branch. Her mind was having trouble comprehending the situation. A part of her just couldn’t accept that Harry could just so easily take off the morning after. But then again, a large part of her easily understood why he did. It’s not like he ever promised her anything. It’s not like because they had sex, then Harry would actually want to be with her…

There was a sudden knock at the door and Hermione jerked her head towards the noise.

“’Ermione, are you up yet?” called Fleur’s accented voice.

With a heavy sigh, Hermione sunk back into the cold sheets. She wasn’t ready to face everyone in the house yet. She was sure she’d have to eventually that day, but surely she could wait a bit longer.

…

1 Hour Later…

…

Hermione sat silently at the dining table, deftly twisting her fork in her hand and every now and then poking it into her pile of cold eggs.

Fleur had come back forty five minutes after her first attempt and demanded that Hermione get up and have some breakfast. Hermione had been terrified as she left her room and cautiously made her way to the kitchen, scared that she’d come face to face with Harry. Alas, when she had finally made it to the kitchen. Harry was missing, and Ron was working on his third serving.

Ron, Bill, and Fleur had tried to involve Hermione in idle conversation, but every time they looked to her for a response, she kept silent.

She finally broke her silence when Bill and Fleur got up and started doing dishes. Hermione turned to Ron pointedly, “Where’s Harry?”

“I dunno,” Ron answered, shoving a piece of toast into his mouth.

Hermione suppressed rolling her eyes, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“He was up earlier,” Ron replied after he swallowed, “He ate and then went back to our room. So I guess he’s in our room. Why?”

“Just wondering,” Hermione answered, going back to her untouched food.

“He’s probably making plans for Gryffindor’s sword,” Ron commented after a few moments.

Hermione gave him a sharp look, “He’s making plans? With who?”

“Griphook.”

Hermione noticed that she hadn’t seen the old goblin all morning. It irked her that Harry was making plans with him alone. Griphook didn’t really seem to have Harry’s best interest at heart, so really what assistance could he be providing?

“We should probably go in and see if we could help, huh?” Ron asked, in a manner that suggested she was thinking along those same lines.

“Oh, um-” Hermione paused, her heart instantly kicking into overdrive. Was she ready to see Harry again? What if he didn’t want her help this time?

A door could be heard opening and closing further off in the house. Hermione’s stomach fluttered, and her eyes darted around in a frenzy.

She didn’t care if she was being a coward; she couldn’t face Harry right now. Suddenly, she stood up from the table, “Um, I’m not feeling too well so… I’m going to go for a walk on the beach.”

Without waiting for a response, Hermione turned and hurried out of the room. Fortunately, she was able to escape in time before Harry nervously walked into the kitchen.

…

( Pembrokenshire Beach 9:18 a.m.)

After running back to her room and grabbing her shoes and wand, Hermione left the cottage, making her escape into the more wooded part of the beach. She’d found a decent, secluded spot on the sand and had only been sitting there for a few minutes when she heard a voice sound behind her.

“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself,” Harry said from a few inches behind her.

Hermione gasped and spun her head around to look up at the voice. She paused for a few seconds when she saw that it was Harry. Finally though, she ripped her eyes away from his and turned back to face the ocean.

Harry tried to ignore the hurt evident in her eyes, “I’m serious Hermione, it’s not safe for you to run off by yourself.”

“I have my wand.”

“Still.”

Silence engulfed them as Harry continued to stare at Hermione’s back, and as she stared absently out into the dark blue waves. The tense atmosphere was starting to get to both of them. Hermione had never recalled feeling so uncomfortable around Harry before- usually he made her feel so safe.

Finally, the quietness became too much, “What do you want, Harry?”

Harry thought about her question for a moment. Honestly, there were many things he wanted, but most of them he knew he couldn’t put into words. He knew that if he told her the truth, it’d only hurt her more.

After a couple of seconds, he’d yet to answer. So instead of making something up, he just went with what he was thinking, “That’s kind of a difficult question to answer, Hermione.”

“No it’s not; not if you answer it honestly.”

Harry came forward and sat down next to her, keeping enough space between the two so that Hermione knew he wasn’t trying to take advantage of the situation, or anything. With a thoughtful face, he turned to her and asked her the same, “Well, what do you want?”

Hermione bit her lip and shrugged, “For things to be simple.”

Harry nodded in agreement. That was definitely something he wished for, but his actions last night might’ve proven otherwise. With a sigh, he forced himself to face the girl that had basically turned his world upside down in the past ten hours.

“Hermione, about last night-”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she cut him off quickly, almost frantically, “I don’t know what came over me… It was obviously a mistake, so we can just forget about it.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. If that’s what she really felt, then it kind of made some sense. Still, he found himself opening his mouth and forming the words to his next, uncomfortable, question, “Hermione, do you… do you like Ron? Like, really like him?”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed in an affronted manner, before she shook her head firmly, “No.”

Harry’s eyes went wide in surprise, “Oh. So last night had nothing to do with him?”

“Of course not,” Hermione told him in an obvious tone.

Harry stopped himself from letting ‘good’ slip out. Honestly, he didn’t really understand the basis of his theory, but he’d sort of imagined that Hermione had only been so willing because she wanted to like, learn, for Ron. Harry shook his head at the disgusting thought; how could he even think of something that stupid? Hermione wasn’t shallow like that, and she definitely wasn’t a girl to be with just anyone. But if that was also true, then there was something that Hermione wasn’t telling him. Did she really think last night was a mistake?

Harry wracked his brain for anything he might’ve done wrong to make her feel that way. Suddenly, his mind stopped on the conversation that he and Ron had had with the twins back in their forth year, the day after the Yule Ball. Nervously, he glanced up to Hermione, “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to be so…”

Hermione shook her head. He had hurt her, but it wasn’t during their lovemaking, “You were fine.”

“Oh,” Harry mumbled in relief, before he raised an eyebrow at her comment. He couldn’t help but give her a playful smile, “Just fine?”

The corners of Hermione’s lips twitched up in an attempting smile, “No… you were perfect.” Hermione knew that Harry was giving her a wide eyed look, but she couldn’t help confessing the truth. Last night was everything she ever wanted her first time to be.

Harry sighed. He couldn’t stand the hurt in her voice anymore, “Hermione… I only left because… because I thought I might’ve taken advantage of you last night. You were in such a fragile state, and I wasn’t very sensitive to that-”

“Harry, I’m not made of glass,” she cut him off with a heated look.

Harry swallowed, “I know, but still. We’ve been just friends for so long… I didn’t want you to hate me.” He hated himself for sounding so weak in front of her, but it was the truth. He couldn’t stand for Hermione ignoring him. He needed her…

Luckily, Hermione sent him a softer look, “I don’t.”

“That’s good,” Harry mumbled in relief, looking down to his knees, “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself otherwise…”

“So what now?” Hermione asked in a whisper after a couple tranquil moments. No matter how sweet Harry was being right now, the truth of the matter was that he did leave after they’d done the most sacred of acts. Even if he did feel like he’d taken advantage of her, he should’ve known that leaving wouldn’t have made the situation any better. Why couldn’t he predict that that would be what made Hermione feel used? Why did he have to be such a… boy?

Hermione shook her head to herself as the drama unfolded in her head. At least she knew one thing for sure, and that was that she couldn’t just be his friend anymore. Last night had forever changed their relationship. She’d never be able to look at him and not remember the feel of his lips on her skin…

“Hermione…” Harry said, briefly closing his eyes for a moment, before turning to look at her, “Last night… it-it… it was the best night of my life. I never knew I could feel like… that…” By the time he had finished, his cheeks were red, and he was looking back down to his feet.

Hermione’s mouth almost fell open at his confession. She had expected for Harry to say that they’d made a mistake and they should just forget about it. Never in a million years would she have expected that Harry would say that it was the best night of his life. She let out an awestruck breath, before quietly revealing her own secret, “I’ve wanted it for a long time now.”

“Really?” Harry asked in surprise.

Biting her lip, she nodded, “Yes.”

To her confusion, Harry shook his head, “I don’t think I’ve ever given you enough credit.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, “I mean you’ve been right in front of me this entire time, but I’ve only just realized how much… how much I want you…”

Hermione’s mouth really did fall open that time, “Yeah?”

Harry nodded, “I don’t know what it is with you, Hermione, but you make me feel like I can do anything.”

“You’re a great wizard, Harry. You always have been,” she finished, almost shyly.

Harry was quiet. He didn’t exactly mean it like that, but while they were on the topic, he might as well get out the inevitable insecurity that had been swimming around in his head ever since he’d woken up that morning, “Hermione, I-I’m probably going to die soon. It’d be unfair to promise you anything.”

Hermione turned and gave him a penetrating look. For the first time, the vulnerability in his eyes was evident. She’d always had her gut feeling, but for the first time, Harry actually looked scared.

And it was that knowledge, that compelled her to say what she’d been feeling for the past year, “I love you Harry. No matter what happens, I know you’ll be okay. I just know it.”

His stomach unwillingly fluttered at her words, and he couldn’t fight the small smile that appeared on his lips, “If there’s ever a time for you to be right, I really hope it’s now.”

“You’re stronger than you know,” Hermione said convincingly, “And no matter how much I believe in you, it’s your own confidence that’ll make the difference.”

Harry was quiet for a few moments, staring down at the sand beneath his feet, before he finally looked up. He shook his head in a surreal manner, “How… how can you be like that?”

“What do you mean?” Hermione tensed, wondering if she had said something wrong.

“How can you love me?” he finally asked in a timid whisper. He knew that he’d never be able to sound so insecure or weak in front of anyone but Hermione. That was part of the reason why he needed her so much. Even so, that didn’t stop him from not understanding why someone like her could be so sure of him in a way that didn’t put any pressure on him.

Hermione bit her lip as she shrugged, “It’s not really something I can explain, but I think it’s always been there.”

“I wish you would have said something sooner,” Harry said wistfully.

Hermione gave him a look, “How would you have reacted if I had?”

“I don’t know…” Harry started honestly, “ But you’ve always been the one to make me see and understand things. I’d be lost without your guidance.”

Again, Hermione only shrugged, “I was scared that if I said something and you didn’t feel the same way that it would ruin our friendship.”

“Is that why you said you can’t be my friend anymore?”

“It just hurts to see you with other people,” Hermione admitted quietly. She glanced up to see Harry’s reaction, and not surprisingly found a blameworthy look on his face, “I don’t say that to make you feel guilty, Harry. I just want both of us to be happy.”

“Hermione, you do make me happy,” he told her, surprised that she would think anything else.

Hermione sighed, “Are you just saying that for the sake of the conversation?”

“No, I’m saying it because it’s the truth,” he answered sincerely, turning in the sand so that he was fully facing her. He gently turned her cheek so that she too was looking at him, “No one has ever made me feel as good as you make me feel. Not even Ginny. If things were different, nothing would stop me from wanting to be with you.”

“But things aren’t different. Not yet at least.”

This time, it was Harry who sighed, “Exactly. I-I don’t want to put you in anymore danger than you already are. You’ve already almost died twice because of me. I’d kill myself if you actually did.”

Hermione turned away from him and let her eyes wander out over the ocean. She got that Harry was protective, but she didn’t appreciate getting the same excuse that he’d given to Ginny. She was already in danger as Harry’s best friend and accomplice; that status wouldn’t change just because their relationship became something more.

Instead of barraging him on his theory, Hermione found a gentler way to broach the topic, “My parents always told me that if you want something hard enough that it’ll happen. Do you think that’s true?”

“I hope so,” Harry nodded simply.

“Harry, that day,” she started, not needing to clarify what day she was talking about, “may be getting closer, but it’s not today. Hopefully it’s not tomorrow. If we make each other happy like that, why should we stay away?”

Staring into her eyes for that moment, she seemed to be completely right. However, it didn’t take long for the pessimism to weigh in, “What if someone finds out? What if someone uses you to get to me?”

“What if the world blows up, Harry?” Hermione returned, giving him a narrowing look, “We can’t live our lives like that. And before you say anything else, you still have a pulse. You’re not dead yet, and if I have it my way you won’t die until you’re a very old, old man. So old that you won’t even be able to remember this conversation.”

Harry shook his head and sent her a wry smile, “I’m never going to forget this.”

Hermione smiled back, and before she could question what she was doing, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. She could tell that Harry was a little surprised, but was happy when he kissed her back with equal force. After a couple of moments, Hermione broke the kiss, but didn’t move away. “Don’t forget that either, then,” she whispered.

Harry appeared quite baffled for a moment, before a dazed expression settled on his face, “Hermione, I-I love you too. Just so you know…”

To be honest, he didn’t know what the future held in store for him. However, he did know what he was feeling, and right now seemed like the perfect time to tell her before it was possibly too late.

“I believe you,” Hermione said quietly, too amazed to be any louder. Harry couldn’t help but smile back, and after a few seconds of staring into each other’s eyes, Harry was eager to get another taste.

As their lips met again, they both came to peace with the knowledge that, whether either of them lived or died, they’d both confessed their love and desire for each other. And when they thought about it, that’s really what mattered most. Now, Harry wanted nothing more than to win this war and start his long, long life with Hermione.

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Thanks for reading everyone! If you could take the time, please leave a review. I always love to hear respectful feedback. :]

Oh, and go read my other two shot, Don't Let Me Go.