Life and Times
Rating: R
Ship: HHr (main emphasis)
The (unlovely) procedure: all rights go to JKR for previous plot and characters, Scholastic, Warner, and whoever else has their hands in HP.
Author Note: Here is the second half of the forty pages I worked on these past few nights. I hope to have answered some of your questions or concerns via the review section. I'm quite satisfied with what I've done up until now and can't wait to move onto fourteen! I was brilliantly inspired as I wrote this chapter, but I have a boatload of things to do so it will take me a few days. Thanks again for the reviews!
***
Chapter Thirteen ~ Fragile
Beepbeepbeep-beep-be-ee-eep-be-be-beep-be-beepbeepbeep.
And, we were just kissing.
When I stroked her tummy…sheesh, that was a whole other beeping story.
Hermione slept. Our lips were locked so much I hoped I hadn't stopped her oxygen flow. She smiled before closing her eyes and shook her head. She tired out. I would be, too, after everything she'd been through these few days.
Sitting in the chair I pulled up beside her bed, I watched her sleep. I helped her adjust the bed back horizontal with a little height left over for comfort. It was hard enough laying flat on her back with things going off in intervals around you. I had my right hand in her right hand, laced as one, and my left arm across the top of the metal siding. My chin rested on my arm and I looked on at my beauty. Colour had returned to her skin. I watched her breathe, paying close attention to her chest fluctuating.
I couldn't keep my lips from her. They felt alone, and I'd had enough of feeling alone. I lifted her hand in mine and kissed the top. I moved up as time passed on and kissed her cheek, her shoulder, and caressed the breast above her heart. I knew her heart was trying its best, pounding away, keeping my Hermione alive. I thanked her heart with another kiss and the heart machine stuttered a beep. I smiled. I loved how I could make her do that even when she slept.
The Granger's came in moments after Dr. Stone left and after Hermione and I had our "private time". First came a knock, and then I opened the door to see Emilie standing there. She hugged me tight and cried when she saw Hermione lying in the bed. Frederick smiled at me. He went to shake my hand, but stopped. He grasped me and pulled me to him in an embrace. I felt warm, squeezing him around the shoulder. He patted my back, and I sighed, watching him enter and stand beside Emilie.
Emilie traced her fingers along Hermione's chin. This having been the first time she'd seen her, the initial shock overcame in a flood of emotion. I saw her, like me, sit down in the chair I had and weep. She put her hand over her mouth and Frederick squatted to her level, hugging her tight. Mr. Granger moved, placing his hand on the other side of Hermione, and kissed his daughter's forehead. I heard Hermione breathe in deep and let it out slowly, turning towards Frederick after he kissed her. Still drowsy, she blinked to focus and smiled at her mother, and then at her father.
"Hey, daddy…" Hermione whispered.
Frederick wiped under his eyes. This was the first time I'd seen Hermione's father cry. He wasn't big and burly. He wasn't the stereotypical "man's man," the kind that just couldn't cry because it wasn't "male" enough. He didn't go around projecting his testosterone. But, he'd never cried around me. With his daughter lying there, he couldn't help but become overwhelmed with his vulnerable emotions. She grinned at him, a slight dimple coming to her cheek. Mr. Granger slipped in around his daughter and kissed her again on the forehead.
He brushed away some of those mahogany and ginger stray locks that fell at his slight weight and said close to her, "I love you, baby girl…"
"…I love you too, daddy."
He wondered away from her to allow Emilie access. I caught his hands go to his eyes and wipe them once more. I backed up near the wall to let him through. Meandering toward the door, he patted my shoulder. He squeezed it, and said to me, "Thank you…for looking over my daughter as you've always have…"
"I always will," I smiled at him, my eyes watery behind my glasses.
"Em," stated Frederick, clearing his throat against his dark blue dress sleeve.
Emilie Granger turned to look at her husband through puffy, red eyes. She surrounded Hermione in a tight hug, nearly climbing into bed with her daughter as far in as she leaned. She had kissed Hermione's cheek when she turned to see her husband.
Frederick tilted his head toward the door, "I need to step outside for a mo'… I'll be right back in a few."
"Okay, honey…," Emilie's focus went back to Hermione immediately. She whispered something in Hermione's ear, and sleepy Hermione with her eyes closed, nodded in response. Hermione smiled.
I was smiling, too. I heard Frederick on my left again in my ear and turned to see him as he asked, "Walk with an old man?"
I turned back to see Hermione with her mother, both of them grinning through shed tears. Hermione was in perfect hands. Emilie stroked her daughter's hair and laughed at something Hermione said to her. Twisting back to Mr. Granger, I shook my head and said to his previous statement on age, "You're not old, sir, and of course."
Frederick made a laugh and put his arm around my shoulder as we walked out the door, "Compared to you, young man, I feel like I am sometimes."
We talked about Hermione. She never left our discussion once. I told him about her status, the name of her doctor, and what Dr. Stone had told us prior to them getting to the hospital. We both had our hands in our pockets, his in his black dress slacks and mine in my dark blue jeans with holes torn in them at random. I expressed the three alternatives Hermione had to choose from, and what she ultimately ended up choosing as much as any of the three decisions had me scared. I loved Hermione-she shouldn't have to be in this position-making decisions that can alter her entire life. He wanted to talk with Dr. Stone when we got back up to the Cardiac level, chat about the medication Hermione would be taking, though saying the choice was, "Definitely the right one" through a terrified, fatherly expression.
But for now, Frederick and I marched into the gift shop on the ground level. Sifting through dozens upon dozens of flowers to choose from, he decided on pink roses for his daughter. I agreed, loving his choice. I would have chosen them, too. We went up to the counter and paid the employee and left with a vase of two dozen.
"Has she eaten yet?" He asked as we passed by the cafeteria on our way back. "I saw the juice bottle on the nightstand. Can she eat?"
I shrugged, honestly not knowing, "I'm not entirely sure. She did drink all the cranberry juice, though."
"My baby girl must be starving…"
He and I took a detour through the cafeteria. Lunch time had began, the tick of the clock after the twelfth hour. I held onto the vase of flora while Frederick slid a tray through a line, asking for turkey and mashed potato, stuffing, biscuits, and some chocolate pudding. He paid for it all promptly, the steaming, white turkey breast wrapped in the vegetable stuffing and the creamy potatoes oozing butter and brown gravy. Only the best for his daughter. He placed a cover over it and up we went to the third floor.
Hermione's father made a joke that stunned me in the elevator. We were alone, and laughing about some poster we saw on the wall, something frivolous to take our minds off all the seriousness, when he all at once threw in a joke about a "wedding". My heart went a-flutter. Gaining acceptance by Hermione's family…by her father…and him asking, "Any chance Em and me will get the first invitations to the wedding," had me beyond ecstatic. I don't even think there is a word for the feeling that arose within me. All I could do was smile and say back, "You guys will definitely be the first on our list."
Ginny called me on the way out of the elevator. She scolded and screamed at me, of course, because I hadn't called her with the good news. Her voice could be heard without holding the receiver to my ear. Hermione was awake, and it was already noon. I apologized to her, telling her everything had gone by so quickly and her parents had arrived. Mr. Granger rolled his eyes at me and stated in a low voice only I could hear, "Girls, eh?"
I laughed, "Yeah."
Frederick and I entered Hermione's room again after a knock. More alert and talking to Emilie, Hermione's eyes widened at the sight of food and sniffed the air of real rations not of the liquid-kind. We didn't know if this had been allowed, but Frederick shrugged and helped his baby girl get situated with the food. He placed the tray in her lap after I helped her up by the controls of the bed, and she dove right in as if she hadn't eaten ever in her entire life.
Hermione gave her father a hug for the roses, too, before he left to hunt down Dr. Stone. Emilie went with him, and gave me another tight embrace.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Harry," she jostled me in her arms at each `thank you'. "You're a God-send."
Emilie kissed my cheek, as any mother would do, and waved at Hermione on her way out. "We'll be back, Cupcake."
I turned to her with the biggest grin. She had her fork in her mouth, chomping away at the turkey and not really caring if she had her mouth closed or not. She blushed and swallowed, a bit embarrassed by how quickly she was eating. There wasn't anything to be embarrassed about. Having her eating, seeing her eating, that was a blessing in itself. She didn't need the damn IV in her arm, and I'd be the first to point that out the next time someone came in that could relieve her of it. That would be one less plug scarring her beautiful body.
I walked right over to her and planted my lips atop her head. I smelled of her vanilla scent, letting my nose linger in her hair. I loved this woman. I loved Hermione. I love Hermione. I bent to her, and in response as if she knew what I was after, she kissed my mouth softly, innocently. She still had that cloud of medication within her mind, her pupils dilated and she swayed a bit against me.
I pulled the chair closer to the bed and watched her move the fork from her plate to her mouth, and kept watching her repeat it as if this motion was the answer to the meaning of life.
I sighed with a smile. My arms were together on the barricades on the side of the bed, my chin resting on them. I asked with a casual, sauntering tone, "Have I ever told you how much I love you?
I reached across the bed and felt of her tummy. I scratched it lightly, and she giggled. I loved how flat her abdomen was, and how my touch drew her to laughter with a tickle. She peered at me, looking at me in the corner of her eyes, and bit her bottom lip. She leaned over, careful not to tip the tray over, and I met her more than halfway in a subtle, slight caress.
***
Sixteen trillion bags bumbled into the room. I was amidst helping Hermione from the lavatory back to her bed when Weasley-red hair with pinks and blues, beige and brown shopping totes hastily flew from the hallway to the door. The bags dropped, revealing Ginny who squealed shrilly at the sight of Hermione standing. Hermione's arm was around my shoulder and my arm around her shoulder, walking across the small distance to her bed. She hastily stepped right up to Hermione and embraced her tightly. She nearly toppled Hermione over, tackle-hugging like that. Hermione laughed, and I was left holding both girls' weights. Neville, peering in from the newly open door, held two McDonald's sacks in his hands. He waved at me and snickered at the scene.
"She can tire out easily, Gin," I coerced her away, but failed, Ginny planting kisses on Hermione's cheek and hugging her bestie secure. Hermione had an arm loosely around Ginny.
"Ginny," stated Neville from behind her. "Dear, you can talk with her without trying to mount her."
"And what if I do want to mount her?" Ginny seethed playfully, whipping around at Neville.
We all chuckled.
Hermione leaned her head into me after Ginny backed away. Ginny immediately slipped under Hermione's free arm and assisted me in taking her back to bed. When Hermione was tucked in and comfortable, Neville handed Ginny one of the two McDonald's bags. She sat down in a chair, putting her feet up on the cushion so she sat on them and scooted close to Hermione's side.
"I hope you've eaten, `Mione…," Ginny pulled out this monstrous sandwich wrapped in the McDonald's arches. She stuck a fry in her mouth, one of those that get to the bottom of the bag. "Because Neville and I haven't. We'll go down to the cafeteria if-"
"No… No, I have…," Hermione smiled and nodded. I found her hand with mine, and I felt her grasp at me as she looked on at Ginny.
"Goodness Ginny…," I smelled the fumes of meat and hot onion. She unwrapped the packaging and a piece of lettuce fell on her lap. The burger was the size of her head.
"I'm hungry! Shut up!" Ginny stuck her tongue out at me.
"Didn't you read in the Daily Prophet about how many witches are getting over-weight?" I grinned wryly and knew I'd gotten Ginny's attention.
Ginny squinted her eyes, "All one hundred eight pounds of me says different."
"I dunno…," I snickered, watching her mouth have to grow doubly to get around the burger. "That's at least a thousand calories right there… Another, what? Two pounds? It adds up!"
"Harry James!" She threw a French fry at me, the hot, salty potato smacking into my hand as I caught it. Thanks to Quidditch and being a Seeker, my reflexes were like a cat. I put it in my mouth. She pointed at me, "…You better be glad my girl's in here because so help me… If we weren't…"
I leaned over and Hermione smiled as I kissed her. I whispered in question, seeing Hermione close her eyes, "Are you tired? We can go…"
"Uh uh…," Hermione lightly shook her head. "Don't go… I'm fine." She clasped at my face and I sat there, letting her stroke my cheek.
"She told our cab driver to go through the drive-thru. He was rather hostile, too," said Neville, his mouth full of chicken sandwich. "You should have seen it."
I looked away from Hermione, snuggling against me, to Ginny smirking with a French fry hanging from her lip. "You told an angry New York cabbie to go through the drive-thru?" I laughed.
Hermione nudged my cheek with the tip of her nose. Her hand went to my hair. She used me as a foundation, her warm forehead tilting and staying along the side of mine. She kissed my jaw as I glanced at Neville, my fingers massaging underneath Hermione's neck, "Only Gin can make an angry New York cabbie go through a drive-thru."
Neville smiled and patted the top of Ginny's head.
"The extra twenty and the bit of flirting helped," she bit off another chunk of the burger and wiped her mouth on a napkin. "Oh, and `Mi-`Mi…"
Hermione swiveled her head against mine to peer at Ginny. I kissed her cheek and nuzzled my nose against her.
Ginny motioned over at the mountain of shopping bags on the floor, "I didn't know what you felt like wearing, so I brought them all."
"Thanks, Ginny…," Hermione said into a smile. I kissed the side of her temple as she spoke.
Ginny flicked her eyes between us and grinned into another bite, "So, tell us everything-and don't leave out any detail. What's going on with my girl and why isn't she out of this fucking place?"
After a slight pause for chewing, she ended with, "She looks fine to me!"
"It's…," I heard Hermione say against me. "…complicated."
Ginny's eyes widened, her golden-brown eyes becoming large, and stated contiguously, "I'm an excellent listener."
***
Dr. Stone came in the following day to check up on Hermione's condition. Her nursing, dayshift assistant Morgan had come in later in the day to give Hermione her first HCM dosage.
Morning arrived, the curtains pulled back in the room to allow the orange-crimson colour splash against the walls and floor, turning everything similarly. I had my back to the window, talking quietly with my lover. Frederick and Emilie were amongst themselves and the television that was on low volume. Frederick watched the news broadcast, a cold front moving through New York City later on today, bringing with it chillier weather far below what the temperature sat at currently: 24 degrees.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger took to a hotel nearby, a few blocks down from the hospital, and had arrived this morning to catch Dr. Stone doing her rounds. Ginny and Neville were still asleep at the Marriott. Ginny would usher out quietly, anyway, when anything important came to be. She thought it unkind to be present while the doctor was in with Hermione, me, and the family even though no one took it that way and had encouraged her to stay as she and Neville were a part of our extended unit.
Hermione's parents were awfully glad to see Ginny, a second daughter to them. They'd seen her many times with Hermione, from sleep-overs to parties, and the like for years. Emilie gave Ginny a huge hug when they first met in the room yesterday. Frederick shook Neville's hand in greeting.
Dr. Stone, in her usual cheerful self, waltzed on in with Valerie at her heels. Valerie waved at the Granger's. The Granger's had taken the liking of Valerie as much as I did for treating Hermione so rightfully when they weren't at the hospital at night.
"Good morning, Ms. Granger!" Dr. Stone shook Hermione's hand. Then, she went around and shook her parent's hands. "My, my, you're looking better every time I come in here!"
Dr. Stone set out her hand and Valerie placed a piece of yellow-coloured paper within it. Dr. Stone brushed some hair out of her eyes and examined the paper with scrutiny, "And, the pills seem to be doing their job excellently! Fabulous."
Dr. Stone glanced at Hermione, "How are you feeling, darling?"
"I wish I could get out of here," replied Hermione, smirking.
"That's the spirit, baby girl," chuckled Frederick from his chair opposite me. He had an arm around his wife.
Dr. Stone nodded, "I don't see why you should be here any longer than one more day, just to make sure everything is running smoothly. I really don't want to send you back out, to have you come back."
Hermione wasn't being monitored by all the machines she had been before when I'd seen her the first time. Only one monitor connected to her body, the heart monitor, and even that constant beeping seemed regulatory, background noise. It was fun, though, to make it jump when I'd kiss her or stroke her hand in that certain way. I nearly made a joke about keeping it around just to hear it stutter; but, I wanted everything gone. The IV was out of her arm. Valerie and the other nurses checked on her only when needed every eight to ten hours, and that was pretty much it. We'd just wait and watch television, or her parents would tell stories that made Hermione embarrassed.
Hermione told her mom yesterday before they left for their hotel, "You might as well show him the picture of me naked in the tub!"
"You know," Emilie said, her finger to her chin in thought. "I just might show, Harry! Thanks Cupcake for the advice!"
"Aww… Mom…"
I laughed in my hand, picturing the aged photograph somewhere in one of the Granger's family albums of Hermione, in her birthday suit, playing in a bath as a toddler.
Coming back to the present, Emilie asked Dr. Stone, standing and reading the worksheet of Hermione's nightly results, "So, she'll be discharged tomorrow?"
Dr. Stone nodded in confirmation, "Today, I'll file the paperwork and," Dr. Stone smiled at Hermione. "You'll be in the clear. Go, go, go."
"Awesome," I smiled, lifting Hermione's hand in mine and kissing it. I glanced at her and Hermione grinned at me. "Beautiful."
"Any other questions?" asked Dr. Stone, handing the profile back to Valerie at her side. She slipped her hands in her lab coat.
"I'm just glad to hear my baby girl will be able to go back home," Frederick patted his daughter's arm closest to him.
We all agreed in tandem, including Dr. Stone and Valerie who shook their heads.
"Well, if that's all," started Dr. Stone. Valerie opened the door and went out into the hallway with the manila folder profile. "There are just a few other tid-bits I need to explain and then we're good to go."
We all turned and focused intently on Dr. Stone.
More…?
"As standard procedure for this situation, I must make aware a few things. One," Dr. Stone breathed. "Ms. Granger, if you haven't exercised normally daily, try and work in a day-to-day workout routine. Nothing major, nothing that could over-exhaust the heart and we're talking like running a marathon here. So, no marathons young lady!" Dr. Stone wagged her finger.
Hermione grinned and nodded, "Note to self: no marathons."
"Secondly," Dr. Stone began again after a light laugh. "You have to be careful. This falls back on the first one. Only you know when you need to stop. No one else can feel what you feel inside your chest. So, when you need to stop what you're doing-do it. Stop right then and there."
"Careful," Dr. Stone looked at the Granger's, and they nodded. She turned to me and her words echoed into my brain. "Being careful is key."
Careful… Careful… Careful… Careful…
The words put me in a trance. I looked at Hermione who stared at Dr. Stone. Drowning out the remaining words the doctor spoke, I became fearful. Hermione… Careful… Like a porcelain doll… I needed to protect her… Be cautious of her… My life, my heart, my soul… My breathing picked up in pace and my heart beat hard against my chest. My fingers went limp in Hermione's hands, and when they did, Hermione turned to me vigilant of my reaction.
My facial expression went somber even after Hermione gripped my hand. Her fingers were intertwined with mine, and she tried to wake me from my trance by tickling the palm of my hand with a finger. I didn't budge, and I suddenly felt that enormity of sickness in my stomach once more.
***
"I got her, Gin!"
"I'm going to help you with her, Harry! Damn!"
Hermione laughed in-between us both, me on her right side and Ginny on her left side, fighting as to who was carrying her into the apartment. I had an arm around Hermione, taking one step at a time in case she fell. Hermione told me she was all right to walk and cursed the doctors for making her have to be taken out of the hospital in a wheel chair. That she, "Wasn't a vegetable."
"I can walk, you know," Hermione smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
I felt the soft cotton of her white v-neck t-shirt against the bare, exposed part of my arm. Ginny and I pulled at her and up into Number Twelve. Her shirt was a bit short, and Hermione's flat tummy would peek out about an inch above her black, ripped jeans. Neville was behind us with the excess luggage me or Ginny couldn't grab in her hands. I helped Hermione move up the stairs to the front door and we all magically disappeared from mortal view, breaking through to my hidden flat. We had apparated into my BMW from the Floo Transportation Network.
Even though the sun was clearly high in the sky in New York City, six hours pushed the time in London with its sun laying on the horizon for nightfall to reign. The lush smell of rain wafted in the cool zephyrs of the breeze, and when Neville shut the door behind us, the remainder of the cool weather shot at us from within my flat.
"Why's it always so damn cold in your house, Harry?" exclaimed an annoyed Ginny.
"I'll be sure to call the electrician tomorrow in London and have him put in an AC unit," I barked back between Hermione at Ginny. "You know I can't very well do that."
"Guys, guys…," sighed Hermione. She slipped from Ginny, and then from me. I put my hand immediately on her lower back. Hermione grinned at me in response. Softly, she said to me, "I can walk… I'm not an invalid."
She went to hug me and I winced. I placed my arms around her loosely. My porcelain doll… I couldn't… Wouldn't hurt her anymore. Hermione felt my change and glanced up at me with a concerned look on her face. She turned to Ginny who spoke up, "Where do you want me and Neville to put your things, `Mi-`Mi?"
Hermione tightened her arms around me, but mine didn't respond, laying loose still. I felt her sigh against me and she grinned at Ginny, "Upstairs, our bedroom."
Ginny began trudging along the hallway, giggling. She mimicked Hermione with a melodramatic, "Ooo… Our bedroom… Hehe…"
Neville shuffled around us with bags and boxes under his arms. He gave me a wink and followed Ginny upstairs. I heard their footsteps hit the first stair when Hermione said to me, taking more hair from her face away with her fingers, "I'm going to be glad to sleep in my own, comfortable bed tonight."
She grinned and rubbed her nose into my shoulder. I just looked at her, not knowing how to touch her anymore. She, my love… Anything I felt I'd do would end in hurting her more. I didn't move to her touches, and she gazed back at me, lifting from my shoulder. She kissed my mouth gently and said, "And, to be in bed with you. I love you."
I felt her release and replied softly, "…I love you, too."
She felt me immobile, my face solemn, my arms without strength in them, "Is something wrong…?"
I stared into her big brown eyes. What was I to say? `Love, I can't touch you anymore for fear of causing you pain?' Instead, I just remained silent until she looked away from me. I then said softer in question, making her glance right back at me as if I scared her, "…Did you remember to take your pill today?"
"You saw me take it, love…" Hermione never blinked, never ceased her sight from me. I listened to her breathe, felt her chest on me, and stared right back into her. "…What's wrong, Harry?"
"Neville Xavier!!" Ginny's booming voice shook me and Hermione from our stares. I was glad as my heart sunk, being…careful…with her, around her, beside her.
"I'm sorry!" shouted Neville back. "I'm sorry, Hermione!"
"What's going on up there?" I yelled back at them, hearing the shuffling of feet and a slap. I assisted Hermione onto the first step on the staircase.
"Oh, Neville decided to take a peek at Hermione's pretty bloomers," yelled Ginny back. "As if he doesn't get to see enough of mine…" She giggled at the end.
"I didn't know that's what was in there!" I heard Neville's audible sigh. "Ginny was the one that up-and-thought that we should put away your things! Blame her!!"
Hermione snickered, "Neville, dear, they're just panties…"
"But, they're smaller than Ginny's." He sounded in shock. "I didn't know what they were until I had them in my hands. I apologize, Hermione."
My eyes went wide at his comment and I laughed out loud, my laughter bouncing off the stairwell and on northward to my room. I heard more shuffling, and another slap much harder than before. Ginny screamed at the top of her lungs, annunciating every syllable, "My fiance just said I had a fat ass!"
"Well, with all those burgers, pizzas, and corn dogs you ate in New York, I wouldn't be surprised if…" I chuckled, and I heard Ginny fly out from the bedroom and scream from the banister a floor from us.
"Again! Be glad `Mione's in the shape she's in or I'd castrate both you and Neville's asses!"
All of Number Twelve shook with laughter.
***
I came from the humid master lavatory, drying my hair with a plush crimson towel. I had put on sleepwear, lounge pants, salt-and-pepper in colour. I stopped at the door and gazed out at Hermione slipped in the sheets. The silky, snowy sheets fell on her like a curtain, molding to her lithe silhouette on the mattress. Her lithe, fragile silhouette…that is. I hesitated moving forward. I didn't want to approach, for if I did, she'd want me. Of course she did. I wanted her, too, but now… In the state of everything that happened… If she ended up back in the hospital…
I tossed the clothes I bundled underneath my arm from the shower into the hamper near to the door. The softened noise of cloth hitting cloth roused her, the hamper tapping the wall in the corner. She rose from the mattress. She still had on her white v-neck shirt, cut low on her chest enough to see the starting of her cleavage. She sat, twisted on her side and smiled at me before she slid back down on the bed.
This was it. I couldn't just walk away, could I? Walk away, right out of the room, down the stairs and not look back. Her little body yearned for me to come to the bed, shifting around with her hand on my pillow as if searching for me. She glanced at me standing there, and I began to step, my mind abuzz with thoughts of caution… Careful… Don't hurt my beloved, my girl…
I turned down the lamp, and then off. My finger tips found the cool of the sheets and I glided in behind Hermione, her body extremely warm. She made the bed smell of vanilla, always, my pillow case caressed with her scent as my head found the rounded contour. I lay back behind her not touching. I could feel the heat of her body radiating, but I halted the wrap-around I loved to do so much. I couldn't wrap myself around her body. Her fragile, breakable body…
In the semi-darkness, the moonlight creeping into the bed and bathing parts of it in white light, she pushed her back against me. She wanted to be felt, touched, rubbed-anything. I heard her breathing, and listened to her squirm in the sheets. She took my arm from between her backside and my chest and put it around her. My elbow hit the mattress in front of her, pushed into her stomach with my hand along her chest. She held me there with her hands and settled.
My chest heaved and my heart rapidly paced. I couldn't breathe and I, at once, shot up from the bed and grabbed the first shirt hanging on my desk chair. I slipped it on as I pulled at the knob and closed the bedroom door behind me, walking fast down the stairs. I tried to catch my breath, but my mind wound over and over, and over the same picture of Hermione falling, falling in my hands to the ground and never waking. I saw her dying in my mind by my touch, and I couldn't…ever…have that happen. A reminder of my past years…
I'd rather her away from me, safe, than to scar her some more. I'd already done her bad for years, and my presence now didn't help the cause anymore.
I took a turn when I hit the bottom of the stairs and flopped on the sofa in the den. A small fire still remained from when Ginny and Neville were here a few hours ago, giving the room a bit of heat from the hearth. My hand found the remote control to the television in front of me and I pressed the `On' button, making the television come to life-like magic. The tube had on the Magical Sports Channel, just like I left it before going to New York City, and before Hermione ended in the hospital.
Reruns of the Quidditch World Cup preliminaries played from years past. I stretched my body on the sofa and sighed, the picture box pulsing images onto my figure in the subtle blackness.
"Harry…?"
I heard the angelic voice from behind me. I closed my eyes and breathed in, inhaling deeply before twisting my head to see Hermione at the base of the staircase. Her hand was on the frame of the den just before she had to step down to enter.
I turned around. I couldn't look at her. I couldn't. I just couldn't and let the droll of the television push into my brain, trying to escape from reality a little longer until she found me. I heard the padding of her feet on the hard wood floor walk behind the sofa, and then her form appear near the other end at the armrest. Her hand slid to the armrest, watching me in the orange light of the fire stare at the television, trying my best not to look at her.
She slipped to the sofa, I had to move away, the cushions squeaking with her slight bounce. She scooted right to me, crawling on her knees, and put her head at my level. I swallowed hard and continued to stare at the television, at the man doing tricks as he fought with another for the snitch.
"Why won't you look at me…?" she whispered in my ear. I closed my eyes, a chill running the route of my spine. I breathed and turned my head slowly to hers. I could see water building in her lingering gaze.
"Why won't you touch me…?" she looked as if to cry. "What's wrong…? What have I done to deserve this…?"
I turned my sight from her and looked back in the tube. I fought with my insides, my heart and my mind, battling over the words I should and shouldn't say. I gulped and my throat tightened; the onset of my own tears and the words of Dr. Stone echoing in my mind.
"Please…," she begged, sitting on her knees before me on the sofa. "…talk to me… I'm scared, Harry… I'm scared and I need you more than ever…"
She laid her forehead on my shoulder.
I turned my eyes back to her and said, holding my emotions down from softening and breaking down, "I… I don't want to hurt you anymore… I love you too much to hurt you anymore…"
Hermione put her hands on me and, with one knee over the other, sat on my lap. She reached over and took the remote in my hand and clicked the television off. She tossed it to the sofa when the sound went away, in silence with only the rummaging of her light mass on the cushions. She straddled me, hip-to-hip, and put her fingers to frame my face. I didn't touch her as she leaned in and kissed me. I didn't react at first, something in me, my thoughts, keeping me at bay and away from her. But then my heart opened the floodgates, and my mouth responded to the plead of her lips, urging me so to kiss her back. I did, responding lightly with the image of her falling in my arms still in charge.
She released from me and put her hands near the edge of her black, satin panties. She took the rim of her shirt in her fingers and pulled the fit tee from her body and off her head and arms. Her hair went awry, everywhere about her body, her shoulders, and down her back in chaos. She lifted my hands in her grip and put them on the front of her brassiere. She made me squeeze her, her black eyes never leaving mine as I watched them stare into me. The whites danced in the corners as she looked at me, her fingers leading my own behind to find the clasp and work the fasten. I felt her bra loosen and it fell to our laps.
Her bare breasts, just large enough for my hands, became exposed to me. My eyes went to the tiny circumference of the pink areola, to her hard little nubs. My hands were picked up once more and she placed them on each of her breasts, making me feel them, push on them, embrace the rounded shape of her smooth flesh.
She bent to me and kissed me, hard, hearing her moan. I hesitated until she broke me, her tongue sliding into the crease of my mouth to persuade, to love me, to love her. I kissed her back just as hard, my isolated presence hugged by her soul, shattering what glass that surrounded me from the hospital. A groan escaped from my lips, and I at once felt her leave me.
I opened my eyes in a pant. She shimmied on her knees away from me and down to the floor. I felt her hands, her fingers digging into my hips underneath my shirt near my rear. She grabbed the elastic of my sleep pants and pulled them away, leading the boxers to my thighs, and then to my knees. When she had them to my feet and off, she smiled from below on the floor. She flicked hair away from her sight, her head twitching to the side and the darkened brunette strands falling with the rest along her shoulder.
She scooped all of me up in her hand gently, taking me in a firm yet soft grip. She slid me down with her fingers and I felt her lips, her head moving on me, her warmth covering me whole. I lay back against the sofa and watched her bob her head, watched her little actions, watched how her lips would pull up and push down on me. I felt her cool breath on my bare skin from her nose which made me throb in her mouth by its pattern. She smiled at me, her eyes going to mine as she moved upward, and then closed when she went back down.
I lifted to my seat, making sure not to bother her, and removed my t-shirt. I lowered back, completely naked, and took the hair she fought with so much in my hands. I rubbed the top of her head and closed my eyes, straining one groan and then another from my throat and allowing it to free from my lips. I felt her slip from me, my manhood chilling in the air. I looked down, my eyes opening, to see her pink tongue lick a path from the base to the tip in one, slow, lapping.
She giggled at me when I flinched, the muscles in my abdomen clenching to her touch. She fell back around me, her tongue…her tongue finding ways to make me squirm, to fidget, to moan. I growled when I couldn't stand it any longer, and she heard me, perking up to see me. Her black eyelashes batted at me. She pulled her lips from my girth when I sat erect, my hands going underneath her arms. I grabbed her, swiftly holding my Hermione, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist.
I fell with her to the floor, to the rug beside the firelight and flame of the warming hearth. The white, plush rug caught my tender fall, her body meshing with it when they met. She moaned when I ground into her; my mouth, my tongue lashing at her as if this was our first intimate moment.
I gripped her panties, her breasts pushed into my chest as my weight held her to the floor, and yanked them clear from her legs. I slipped from her to my knees and held her legs spread. I bowed my head. She gasped when I touched her there, my tongue finding her spot. She gasped again, whining, murmuring my name softly. She arched her back and felt inside my hair, pulling at tufts of my messy, black crow's nest.
My entire Hermione smelled, and tasted, of that rich vanilla flavor.
***
When we met again, the meeting was highly greater, highly better in every way imaginable.
I love her, and I have no idea what was going through my mind. I guess it was because I loved her that that was why I'd thought those crazy things. If I'd hurt her, she'd tell me. Not that I'd hurt her, not in my wildest thoughts; but if something occurred, I'd act accordingly to my best effort to keep her safe, happy, and secure.
Hermione, her body stretched out under me like a lazy feline, had her arms sprawled above her head and bent at her elbows. Her back was arched and slowly drifted to the rug. I watched her navel as it rolled, coming down from her cloud nine peak, settling from a tremendous, exhilarating second climax.
I sat on my knees between her. I had her legs spread, my hands on her thighs just below the pivot of her knees. I felt her feet bump into my naked torso every now and then, especially during our intimate romp on the floor. I'd just climaxed as well, my breath being taken away and having to find it again in a pant. She smirked up at me. That sexy, seductive, all around makes-me-utterly-crazy-about-her smirk of hers.
She took her arms and held them out to me, her hands finding my abdomen, pulling at me to lower with her fingertips. She wanted me to come down and meet her. I let her feet flat on the floor as she led me down to her, her fingers leading the way. They slid to my back when she could reach my backside, running and roaming the muscles that twitched with each action. I went to my elbows right beside her, my face to hers. I lightly thrust into her, just to play and fool around, and to make her smile before I kissed her.
My lips moved from her as I lowered farther to her right, hard, pink nipple. I nibbled on its hardness with my lips and gently gave it a tug. She giggled and bit her bottom lip, watching me move to her left side and lay my head upon her breast. I closed my eyes and listened to the drumming of her heart behind her ribs. Her hands went to my head, her fingers sifting through my disheveled locks.
I heard her sigh and the fire crackle behind us. A piece of the log fell to the tray and sizzled with the gray matter below.
"…How are you feeling?" I asked quietly as if not to disturb the loved, silent atmosphere surrounding us.
"Enormously satisfied," she exclaimed. I knew she smiled through my shut sight. She breathed, "More than satisfied… Completely… Completely in love."
I lifted my head from her left breast and gently caressed the nipple before laying my chin between them to look up at her gaze, "…I'm sorry-"
Hermione put her hand against my mouth, "Shh… You'll never hurt me…"
I grinned and caressed the soft of her palm. She grinned, too, and laid her head back. I caressed between her breasts, making love to the spot I lay on with my tongue. I smelled of her vanilla, heightened from our sexual intercourse. Her nude flesh smelled so, so good… I traced the tip of my nose along the circular edge of her breast. I heard her sharply inhale and smiled, kissing the contour with peck-kisses.
"…Are you ready to go to bed, my love?" I asked, snuggling into her bosom lightly.
She gripped and pulled at a tuft of my hair when I swirled my tongue back around her nipple. She rolled underneath me. I stopped as she couldn't reply, trying as she may under my affectionate lick.
"Mm…," she settled down, relaxing to the white rug. "…Only if you're coming on up with me…"
I slipped from her and caressed her flat tummy as I did so, making it retract in reflex. I laughed gently, sliding my arms under her form and lifting her from the floor. I picked Hermione up, her arms retreating to my neck, her legs circling me tight. I held under her ass for support, a free hand and arm looping her form in an embrace.
With my flush skin and slight veil of sweat upon my body, the environment in Number Twelve gave me goosebumps as I bounded my way stair-by-stair to our bedroom. She caressed and lapped at my neck as I went, having me aroused once I shut the door behind me. She bit my neck and giggled. I tossed her lightly onto the bed and pounced on my wiggling lioness.
The bedroom upstairs grew in temperature faster than any other room in the flat. The room quickly became the hottest in the house.
{Inspirations for the Chapter: Classic Rock love songs from I've Been Waiting (For A Girl Like You) by Foreigner to Love Bites by Def Leppard, especially near the end with Harry's neurotic turmoil about Hermione-"I don't want to touch you too much, baby"-for instance, and OMG by Usher because I watch Idol and had it stuck in my head}
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