Unofficial Portkey Archive

Rating: R

Ship: HHr (main emphasis)

The (unlovely) procedure: all rights go to JKR for plot and characters, Scholastic, Warner, and whoever else has their hands in HP.

Author Note: When I write, I let my characters breathe. Usually, I outline ideas vaguely and let the characters fill in to make the story whole. That's what happened with the beach scene. I'd written notes for it prior, but the plot evolved into the bonfire, and then into the conflict. The ending was written right when I thought of it. - Hermione will forever be Hermione Jane in my book. Hermione Jean is her evil twin that entered Books 6 and 7.

***

Chapter Six ~ Enkindle

Is that…? I picked through my hair, one strand at a time, to grasp the infamous…yeah, that's a white hair. I'm nineteen, and I'm getting white hairs-bloody fantastic. I could see it in the headlines, "The Chosen One becomes The Grey One". Rita would love to get her hands all in that without a doubt. Smear me.

I was bent toward the mirror in the master bedroom lavatory. I'd just gotten out of the shower. Even though I dried off, the crimson towel wrapped around my lower body, the condensation of the steam from the heat of the water clung, creating droplets of water on my upper portions. The reddened hue of the towel really offset my skin tone. My skin wasn't tan-far beyond it, honestly. But, because of my past, I was more tan than any other British people I knew. Definitely darker skin than Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and the rest of the Weasley family. What else could be the consequence after frolicking around the countryside for a year or so?

Compared to the other males I knew, Neville and…Ron, I was also more muscular. Not that I had some sort of workout routine, besides my jogging. I didn't lift weights, nothing really strenuous. I did get in some push-ups and sit-ups, chin lifts here and there. Really I did these just to get stuff out of my system than to have an influence on my physique; but, even without it, without a shirt on I was rather firm. I ran my hand down the black hairs of my chest, and down my abdomen where faint lines of a six-pack revealed themselves. My arms weren't huge, either. I could see each set of muscle, like hills, sloping from my shoulder to the bicep, one after the other to my forearm. I was rather happy, and Hermione was thrilled whenever I had my shirt off.

Reaching over to leave the bathroom, I was half-expecting Hermione to have slipped under the covers. Eleven-ish, it was, not that we had a specific sleeping time. We just woke up earlier today. I was tired. When I treaded the floor of my room, I glanced over to see my bed still made perfectly by the hands of my lover; the same as it had been left when she made it this morning.

She has to be somewhere in the house. I shrugged the absence off and gripped the handles on my dresser drawer. The wood clanked against the frame as I sifted, pulling the drawer out to get a clean pair of boxers when I heard it: a scream. Or, what I thought was a scream from below. A female scream-Hermione screaming. That's all it took.

I don't think I breathed between my room and the stairs, taking one giant leap down three or four at a time. I heard her yelling. It came from the den within the living space. As I drew near, I caught words and the sound of something squeaking-springs. I heard what I thought was someone falling, a loud thump of weight hitting the wooden floor. I reached the corner at the base of the stairs, and all at once, the collection of sound hit me. The squeal of her guitar bounced off the wall and into my ear. She wasn't yelling to yell, but singing-quite loudly-lyrics.

"I don't give a damn `bout my reputation!" A vividly white body hopped up and down on the sofa, its springs just a squeaking with each landing of her slight mass. Her guitar strap held the black and white instrument against her form. Red stickers in the outline of hearts were plastered all over the edges at random.

Her brown, darkened locks flew upward when she'd jump vertical and fall along her back and shoulders in chaos. Strings connected to her ears from a CD player hooked to the base of the guitar strap. The lines of her earpieces shifted with her vertical height, landing against a red-and-black, thinly striped spaghetti-strap top. The pearl hue of her legs opposed the pitch-black cloth of her underwear secured to her hips. She had her eyes closed, her signature black eyeliner painted on the smooth skin surrounding the lids. "I've never been afraid of any deviation!"

Crossing my arms, I stood and watched my oblivious Hermione's intimate performance. She started hopping around in circles, in one spot, making the cushion buckle against the other. Her foot almost got caught between them, and she hopped over to the next, belting out her song.

"And, I don't really care if you think I'm strange!" Hermione's voice caught this sexy, rough tone. I smirked. Her voice drove me wild. I leaned against the side of the den's entrance and waited for her to notice me there. "I ain't gonna change!"

Her knees were bent inward as her bare feet tried to grip the soft sofa while she danced on them. She tilted her head back and forth real quick, her hair going all over the place, "I'm never gonna care about my bad reputation! Oh no, no, no…!"

"Not me, me, me…!" She screamed out, her hot, little body twisting on toward me. She blinked open her eyes for a second, and I knew she saw me. She was about to pick up on another verse when she stopped and put her hand over her chest, her eyes going wide. Startled, she hesitated and stumbled back in her footing. I laughed, watching her look down to flip the volume from her speakers down.

"You scared the Hell out of me!"

"Sorry," I still laughed, shaking my head with the smirk. "I didn't want to stop you. I wanted to watch your little performance. Who was that?"

Her lips carved into a smug smirk, eyeing me. Her body stood head-and-shoulders above mine from her perch on the sofa. She put her hands on her guitar strap and began to alleviate the weight, "Joan Jett…say something next time!"

"And spoil it for me?" I smiled, still leaned into the archway with my arms crossed. "Mm…I quite like to watch you. Besides, I thought you were hurt or something and I came rushing down here."

Hermione looked me over and grinned. I knew she was thinking something. It's not hard to see Hermione in the process of thought, especially having known her pretty much her entire life. Her nuances, how she tilted her head to the side and observed me like her specimen. I knew something was working in that beautiful mind.

She'd taken her guitar off and away from burdening her shoulder. She lay it down on the sofa and motioned me over to her with her finger, "Come here…"

She sat on the sofa and kept her eyes on me. My smile lingered, and I was happy I had a towel big enough to double-up around me as Hermione's sultry tone didn't help the situation calm. I began my saunter over to her; Hermione sitting in an Indian-style. "I'm quite indisposed at the moment as you can tell."

Hermione's eyes wandered along my body, and when I'd gotten over to the sofa, I really saw her eyes flitting about. She smirked up at me and had me stay in front of her with a motion of her hand. I saw her hands, and then felt them on my hips where the towel bunched and made a line between my flesh and the cotton. I saw her lean forward, my breathing rapidly picking up in pace. I didn't know what to do, but my body did.

Her soft lips caressed the area directly below my navel. A small patch of hair traced down from the button, and she lowered for another kiss just below the one she did, following that line. She looked up at me and smirked, seeing the confounded expression on my face.

Good. Lord.

Hermione stretched her arms around my figured and placed her cool cheek against my stomach. I heard her snicker.

"You…," I set my hands in her softened brunette hair and held her against me. "What about that conversation we had the other day about `waiting'?"

"Who said I was doing anything?" She glanced up at me and winked. She kissed the spot below my belly button once more and let her lips linger, her puckered mouth slipping into a smile as she kept those dilated pupils on me.

I'll get you…

A thought crept into my mind. I grinned down at her and patted the back of her head. I pulled away, leaving her watching me as I turned for the stairs.

Hermione made a pouty noise. Then, as I strutted away, she whistled and giggled.

I laughed as my foot came to the first stair and I began upward. I waved my hand back at her, "Two can play that game."

"What game would that be?" she laughed.

I looked back at her around the corner to see Hermione's knees bent, her feet on the sofa cushions she sat on in front of her. She held her waist with her arms; her face light with laughter. She sat there and had a tremendous giggle-fit when she saw me peering. I just smiled, reached for the knot that held the two sides of my towel together taut on my figure and let it loose. The crimson material slowly slipped away and off me, and I set it up to where she got a nice, long shot of my bare ass before having it stripped away from her sight by the stairwell wall.

Hermione's eyes lit up and she fell into insanity. Her laughter rang out in every direction, and I hoped she hadn't hurt herself.

"Mm…," I heard her make a mini-moan. "I'd hit that!" she called out after me in-between breathing before breaking into another fit of giggles. "I'd definitely, definitely hit that!"

Chuckling, I ascended the staircase, reuniting my naked body with the crimson bath towel.

***

An incessant, annoying racket broke my sleep. As if we were right near construction, what seemed like drilling burrowed its way into my brain. My mind escaped the loveliness of dreams. My eyes blinked into reality. I felt warmth more than what was beside me as Hermione and I spooned. The sun shined into the room and lit each nook and cranny, brightly. I squinted, the noise chipping away the rock that was my skull. I raised my head but an inch or two off the pillow and looked both ways until I realized, for I had found it foreign prior, the blasted sound came from the telephone.
Hermione shifted against me, so I knew she was awake like me. She didn't get up, though; moving about with her legs, her feet running against mine. I took my hand off from clutching her chest to balance myself. I heard her sigh and stretch, withdrawing back into the sheets soon after. I began to reach over to grab the damn phone when she said groggily, her eyes closed, "…Just let the machine get it. Come back to bed…"

Not a problem. Having sat up, the cold atmosphere perking my naked chest, I immediately slipped right back underneath with her. My arms went back around her. She took my hand and placed it along her breast as it had been, scooting back so her body fit against mine. I held her close when the answering machine finally kicked in, and the whine of Ginny come over the room:

"'Miiiiione…Harry!! Hey! Look outside you guys! It's absolutely gorgeous! Sunny, a tad cool, but warm enough for what we talked about yesterday. We're going to the beach today, right? Harry-you promised you'd grill those burgers and we'd go today if everything went right! And, look! It's perfect out there! So, move your tushes! Neville and I are packing the rest as I speak. Call me back before the rest of London wakes up!"

I had to have fallen back to sleep between Ginny's piercing voice railing the machine because I woke back up to the same, frustrating ring of the phone. I blinked my eyes open and buried my head into the back of Hermione. With my elbow near her tummy, I pulled her to me like my own, little teddy bear, wanting to hide from the boogeyman calling over and over, and over again.

"HARRY JAMES AND HERMIONE JANE, I SWEAR TO GOD-"

Hermione made a nose in her throat out of the sheer annoyance I felt, too. She moved in post-haste onto her bum, my hand sliding from her breast, down along her side, to have it rest in her lap. I felt cotton and skin at the same time; her red-and-black spaghetti strap top pulled up to her ribs. I slid my hand from her thigh to her stomach and back again. I received an eye-full of her back, and then her firm behind when she leaned over and caught the phone before Ginny could scream some more.

With her eyes closing from the sunlight gazing in, she put the phone up to her ear and tilted her to that side away from me. Her hair in a mess, fell over her left shoulder and down along the front of her body. Brunette strands breaking the horizontal stripes of her top in places.

She deeply inhaled first, and then began to speak to Ginny on the other side. Her voice fragmented in the beginning, and she had to clear her throat before starting in again, "Ginny-shh…drop it down a notch…no, you're just yelling into my ear…"

Hermione had to arch her back. I began peck-kissing up her back, following the indentation her spine made in the centre. I heard her stutter a breath and felt her abdomen rise and fall at my touch; my hand relaxed on her core, my palm above her button. I smiled and listened to her again:

"Hey, yeah-we're up…no, no that was just Harry…"

I heard her sigh contently, my caressing having led me to her neck. I sat up behind her and pulled away the curtain of her hair to access Hermione's beloved throat. She leaned further to give me more room along her neck.

"…no…no, we're not doing that…no, Gin, no…especially that…"

I heard Hermione gently laugh into the phone. I wrapped my arms around her figure, just below her chest. The sheets were haphazardly skewed across both of our figures, covering a leg here and a leg there, most of it still on her.

"Mm…sometimes I wish he were doing that, actually."

I stopped my kisses and Hermione immediately felt it. She turned to me and smiled, the phone still stuck on her ear. I raised my eyebrows, and then pinched them together. I mouthed, "Doing what?" to her, and she just grinned on further and shook her head. Resuming, I caressed her shoulder closest to me.

"Haha…what did Neville just say? I heard him. That's funny…tell him you'd like that, too. Maybe he'd do it…Hey! Hey! You just asked if we were!" Hermione laughed through her nose.

I paused to smile, and continued down Hermione's arm.

"Oookay…whatever. Whatever…yes…yes, he grilled the meat yesterday…Gin, mind out of the gutter for a moment. I didn't touch the meat, he did."

I snickered, having lifted Hermione's hand and caressed each individual finger, starting from palm to fingertip.

"Gin! Gin, quit talking about Harry's meat and whether I grilled it or not…Gracious…Hey, we're up. We're getting ready…yes…yes, well stop-yes, of course. What time? I don't think he'll want it…fine, I'll tell him Neville insists. All right…Gin! Can we get dressed? Goodness, yes, we have clothes on right now, but not-Gin, okay…okay, I love you too…hehe, right, okay, love you. Bye."

Hermione leaned back over and set the phone on the receiver. I held her hand still, and she met me once more, coming back to sit in front of me. "Sometimes…I love the girl, but sometimes she's quite the handful."

I smiled and watched Hermione lean back against me. I moved in, my arms back around her body tight, and ran the tip of my nose along hers, "Just `sometimes'?"

Hermione kissed my lips and whispered, "An itty-bit…"

"Mm…good morning…," I tightened my embrace when she went to kiss me again.

"Good morning…," she smiled, content. "We better get going before we get another welcome call."

"…What was that `I wish he were doing that' thing you were talking about?" the curiosity leaked from my vocal chords.

Hermione laughed under her breath and motioned me to come closer. I moved my head forward, my ear to her, as she whispered, "…You'll just have to figure that one out later."

Hermione's laughter rose and, in a second, she leapt from the mattress and crawled to her feet. She wasn't getting away with that. I wasn't going to have it. Through a chuckle, I grabbed her waist and yanked her back in bed with me. I instantly wrapped my arms around her and pinned her lightly to the bed. She just laughed, shaking and wriggling about beneath me, crying out in giggles.

"Tell me!" I snickered at the way she'd slip out from me, and I'd have to wrestle her back down on the bed.

"Hahahaa…no!"

"Tell me, or I'll-"

"Or you'll do what, exactly?" She asked, her sides aching with laughter.

I had her pinned lightly with my weight, her body facing into the bed. She spoke to me with her face to the side, her cheek against the bedding sheets. She writhed and fought. I noticed with each wiggle her panty-clad arse rise and fall onto the mattress, her legs and feet kicking up. A thought flashed in my mind which gave me a toothy grin.

"…or I'll spank that little ass."

Hermione's eyes widened and bit her lip, and then she smirked, "You wouldn't!"

"I would," I set my hand on her bum. I could feel how thin the material really was, each cheek clearly shown with the slight movement of my hand. I felt a rush of blood pulse through me, and I think I could have felt her firm behind all day long. I glanced from her ass and back to her eyes, "Are you going to tell me?"

"Never!" she screamed out, her head in the mattress. "Never!

"You give me no choice then…," I smirked and lifted my hand. I swatted her ass a good three or four times. Not hard at all, playful, more an exploration than anything else. She had such a nice derriere…why hadn't I done this before?

Before I could come down with the fifth, she'd clawed her way out from beneath my body and pounced. I landed, backside first, into the bed with my small Hermione atop my waist. Abnormally giddy for a girl who was just spanked, she twisted on me, slithering up my bare chest and ground her lips into my own. I heard her moan when she kissed me, our noses meshing together.

My hands were on her lickety-split. Roaming, they did, from her upper back to the lower regions, and down to the slope of her rear. I ran my hand along one buttock, and then the other, grabbing her and pushing her into me. I felt her arch, her chest flattening on my own. I slid my hands up and back down, my fingers going underneath the edge of her panties where I felt of her firm, little rump.

We stopped mid-action, my head to one side and hers to the other. We laughed in tandem, and I saw her face pull away and look over. The noise began again. The phone rang off its hook. I was left stationary on the bed with my hands over my face while Hermione rolled away to catch it before it burrowed back into our heads.

***

"You called them three times, Gin," exclaimed Neville, tumbling his way toward Harry's car. He carried an umbrella under one arm and a beach bag heavy with objects, some pending to fall out as he swung it in the other. I carried the large blue-and-white cooler, ice sloshing around inside after every heave I stepped. I didn't know what exactly the girl's had put in here, but it definitely wasn't the two six packs of soda we bought on the way over to their flat. The damn thing was bulky and my shoulders began to sore.

"I did not!" Ginny had her door open. She was sitting with Hermione in the back. I'd asked for Hermione to sit with my in the passenger side, but Ginny insisted on this way. If there was one thing Ginny was good at, she was incredibly good at getting her way.

Ginny climbed on in when Hermione, at the other side with her door open, said, "Yeah, Neville. She didn't call us three times."

Hermione swung on inside and met Ginny, together. I glanced over at Neville who merely shrugged. He placed his handful of things inside the trunk and assisted in carrying the weight of the cooler from my other side. We picked it up and sat it down inside, the car bouncing on the back wheels. Hermione turned to see us at the back, her aviator sunglasses on and huge relative to her face. Her button-nose looked smaller compared.

"She called four times. I counted."

"'Mione!" I saw Ginny push Hermione's side as I came up to the driver's seat, the keys jingling in my hand. I opened my door in tandem with Neville and slipped on in to hear Ginny prod Hermione again, "Solidarity!"

I glanced in the rearview mirror and adjusted it slightly. Mainly, I fixed my Ray Bans across the bridge of my nose even. I saw Hermione's reflection, her smug little smirk and saw her move up, the seat belt against her chest wanting to pull her back just as bad. She caught me around my neck, her arms about me. I turned to peer into her aviators only to find her kiss my cheek and the five o'clock shadow upon it. I rubbed the arms wrapped around my neck, satisfying her enough to have her sit back beside Ginny.

Sliding the key in the ignition, I glanced in the rearview mirror and bent my head down just low enough to peer over the top of my glasses at Ginny in the back, "And, thanks to you Gin, I'm ripping the phone out of the wall."

"No!" Ginny cried out, pleading. Neville smirked and looked out his window. We were all wearing various sunglasses, the earth blindingly bright and sunny, and warmer than usual for the beginning of winter. "Then, all I'll have left to get in touch with is the fireplace!"

"That's the next to go," I smiled, glancing in every direction as I backed the car out from its parked spot in front of their house. "Either that, or place a big bucket of water beside it in case a fire lights."

Ginny crossed her arms tantrum-like, pouting out the window. She pressed down on the automatic window and let the breeze settle inside, brushing her Weasley-red hair back against the black leather. Hermione put her arms around Ginny, "Aww…"

I'd flicked the turn signal on at a stop sign and gazed into the rearview mirror to see Hermione looking at me with Ginny in her arms. "He doesn't mean it, Gin." Hermione's words fell completely melodramatic.

I took off towards the left when my time had come. I went back to the mirror and grinned at Hermione who combed through Ginny's hair with her hands. Hermione continued to be over-dramatic whilst Ginny played crying into her shoulder. "Isn't that right, Harry?"

"…Fine…," I answered Hermione after really thinking about it. "But Gin," I held up three fingers. "Three times the limit."

Neville turned away from his window and looked at me behind his sunglasses, "Don't they make those cellular phones?"

Ginny suddenly fell from her stupor. She expressed, excitedly, "That's right! I totally forgot about cell phones!"

"Great," I murmured. "Thanks Neville. I appreciate it."

The car roared with laughter as I merged onto the motorway and zoomed off in the direction of Blackpool Sands beach.

***

Four people. Four incredibly close people with one, of course, very near and dear to me had the time of our lives. It's not every day that four people could become so close in our relationships that, really, I don't ever think anything could come between us. And, if anything did, it would have to be something huge, monstrous, monumental-earth-shattering. Frankly, the earth shattering is probably the best bet to break us apart.

We laughed, telling stories of nostalgia from Hogwarts. Sometimes we had heard the stories millions of times before, sometimes we had not. Sometimes Ginny would make me incredibly awkward by bringing up something from our past; but, we all talked. About anything and everything, we just talked. The weather and how sunny it had been the past few weeks was one topic. The United Kingdom didn't see many sunny days stretched out consecutively. To top it off, we didn't have unseasonable weather like today to have us asking to go to the beach. People were on the motorways, too; lots, and lots, of people. All of them seemed to be heading with us and not against us.

We weren't beach-goers. Hermione and I at least. Yesterday, we had a tiny discussion about it, and we came down to the conclusion that it was something to do. Something to get us out of the house. We did something all the time together, as a couple, why not enjoy time together and with our friends? Like a double-date of sorts. Why not? But, like with most of our kind, we were ghosts. Hermione is a ghost, and I laughed when she poignantly pointed it out. She pointed right to her arm and asked me, "Does this look like something that gets much time in the sun?"

My eyes would wander off from the road and to the rearview mirror. Besides having to see the traffic behind me, I'd adjusted the mirror to catch my Hermione and all her actions. I could not keep my eyes off her. They might as well have been super-glued to her body, her face, her mouth, eyes, ears, nose, cheeks, hair-everything. She is better than anything. She is my life. She keeps my mind focused and my heart a-thumping, even though both change rapidly when we're fooling around.

Hermione had quickly removed her seat belt to slide in between Neville and me to get to the radio. She cranked the volume and as fast as she unbuckled, she was back in safety's hands. Songs, one after the other, rang out and we sang out. A song would catch us in the middle of something and we'd pick up the lines. Especially the girl's in the back who started us up front to join in. The B52's came on after Prince and we instantly carried the tune, divvying up the individual lines as we sang together.

"Hop in my Chrysler, it's as big as a whale, and it's about to set sail!" I tried to match the pitch in the male performer's voice, and I thought I got pretty close. My hands tapped the steering wheel to the background rhythm. I bobbed my head from side-to-side, continuing, "I got me a car, it seats about twenty, so come on and bring your juke box money!"

In unison, Hermione and Ginny took the female vocals and carried them from the backseat, "The love shack is a little ol' place where," They turned towards each other the brief pause, "We can get together! Love shack, baby!"

The two girls shook their heads, red and brown hair a-flutter in the wind whistling in through the opened windows. The people we passed stared, and I laughed, bobbing to the addictive, up-beat music. We all turned to Neville, our actions stopping, when he rang out in a low baritone, "Love, baby, that's where it's at…"

In hysterics, after the silence we all had with Neville's abrupt lyric that sounded ripped from the pages of Barry White, we convulsed with laughter loud and hard enough to split sides. Hermione scooted up to the edge of the backseat and wrapped her arms slowly around my neck and put her lips to my ear, "Bang, bang, bang…on the door, baby…"

"Knock a little louder, sugar!" I cried out.

"Bang, bang, bang…on the door, baby…" she whispered once more.

"I can't hear you!"

With their aggregated voices, the girl's sung out, "Bang, bang!"

Neville took over the male vocal, singing, "On the door, baby!"

"Bang, bang!" the girl's repeated.

"On the door!"

"Bang, bang!"

"On the door, baby!"

"Bang, bang!"

I yelled the line, "You're what?!"

Hermione called out behind me, "Tin roof, rusted!"

Having such a great time, time does fly by pretty quick. One moment we were driving, the next I was pulling into a parking spot between two cars. We arrived at our destination. Bodies of all shapes and sizes ran around us, and all were in different forms of swimming suits. To bikinis to Speedos, to people wearing business attire and briefcases, everyone was here it seemed. Families were getting out of their vans with kids. Couples were hanging out, together, walking along the sands. People were playing various sports on-land and in the ocean.

I traveled to the back of the car and was leaning far into it when I felt a hand on my back. Neville had already taken care of the umbrella, and the other miscellaneous beach tokens, going ahead to scout for a good location to set camp. Ginny went with him, so that left Hermione. I pulled the cooler up and straddled it between my arms, holding it firmly against my abdomen. Hermione closed-shut the trunk.

I noticed her get in front of me, and I said, "Go on ahead, I've got this."

"Harry," Hermione said firmly. She grasped the sides of the cooler along with me. "I'm helping you this time. So shush."

"All right," I replied and we were off. I called out to her the direction as she walked backwards. Going from flaming concrete to searing sand, I was surely glad to be wearing flip-flops. The gentle breeze from the ocean, its salty breath upon me, pulled on my half-buttoned up white collared shirt. I'd tugged tight the sleeves to my elbows and, for the first time in a while, wore shorts-swim trunks, blue in colour. I think my white legs would have been an eye sore for some in places like Spain, but glancing around at the others, we were all just the same. One big cavalcade of pale bodies. The sand had more colour than us.

Neville had set up camp a bit off from the middle between the ocean and the vehicles. He placed us closer to the ocean's side. We were one of the few who brought umbrellas, so it was easy to point ours out. Hermione and I set the cooler down with a thump into the sand. Ginny had laid out the towels for us when we got there, counting them to make sure we had four separate ones beneath the shade of the multi-coloured parasol.

Ginny mouthed words only she could hear, motioning to the various objects in front of her with her finger, when she finally turned her head around to gaze at us. "Four towels, umbrella, sunscreen annnnnddd-"

Ginny fell down in the sand, her knees sinking into the unyielding surface. She cracked open the vault, the cooler head tossed to the side to reveal bottle after bottle of butterbeer. My eyes went wide and I shook my head, "Dear Lord, how many did you put in there?!"

Ginny looked back at me and placed her hands over her sunglasses to break off some of the light encroaching from the sides, "Enough."

"She likes her butterbeer," Neville nodded, sifting his hands through his hair.

I looked at him and said, agreeing, "That's for sure."

Ginny stood in her spot and dusted away the sand from her legs, "Oh, and you guys like it to-guzzling it all up at the Three Broomsticks every single time we'd go to Hogsmeade. Not to mention, you-" She pointed at Neville. "Taking a tab at the Leaky Cauldron. Yeah, I heard about that my fifth year."

Neville grabbed Ginny by wrapping his arm around her neck and pulled her too him. She laughed and hugged her man. Neville had already undid his shirt and had it folded in the beach tote bag beside the umbrella. They applied sunscreen on themselves, both Ginny and Neville's bodies shining from the oil of the lotion.

"Let's do something…" Ginny hopped gleefully, her hand stretched in the direction in front of her. "Volleyball! Let's see if we can join!"

"I'm…," Hermione was crouched at another tote, "our" tote bag. Her hands were inside, having unzipped it to retrieve something from the many objects. She glanced back at us, the sun glaring off her aviators. "I'm going to pass. For right now, at least. Just lay here and relax, read a book." She held up a rather large novel.

"You've come all the way out here, on a rare, sunny, hot day to read a book?" Ginny placed her hands on her hips and sighed. "Girl, let's do something! Come on! Look at what we have!"

"I will be doing something."

"What? Reading? When you can be doing that any blooming day of the year? How many times do we have sun and hot weather?"

"I'll be…," I could tell Hermione was cooking up something in her head as she glanced around at the surroundings. She eyed a towel particularly close to her. She whipped her head back around to Ginny, her hair being picked up in a zephyr. "Sun-tanning. Right here, in the hot, sunny, cloudless day. Okay?"

I didn't have to see Ginny's eyes to know she rolled them, "Fine, `Mione." She turned her focus on me. "Harry, let's go. I want to play with them over there."

I already knew my reply. Wherever Hermione went, I went. So, I answered, "I'm going to stay with Hermione. Sun-tan, you know. Relaxation."

Ginny sighed, flustered, and shook her head, "Fiiiiiine-Neville, you're coming with me no if, ands, or buts!" Ginny had her arm already hooked with Neville's and led him away one giant step at a time.

I saw Neville look back and shrug, "'Till death do us part?"

Hermione had sat down beneath the shade of the umbrella, and I sat down right alongside her. I called out after Neville, "Just remember you're only engaged!"

Hermione snickered, gazing at me beside her and then back at the novel in her lap. She sat with her legs crisscrossed, and she emanated the definition of "amazing". I'd never seen Hermione in a bikini. In her bra, of course, but this was just a tad different. A tad. Exhibitionist. Reserved a bit too, she was, wearing the bikini top exposed under a sheer, transparent white covering in the shape of an unbuttoned shirt. Her bikini top also was of the white hue, making her skin and the beach garb she wore similar.

A pair of shorts white clung loosely to her hips. The leg sockets double in size like my swimming trunks. I guess to let the air in and to give comfy room. Stuck out directly above the brim of her shorts, I could see the threads of her bikini bottom shifted outside. Tied, the strings sat right on her hips.

I couldn't help but believe the unbelievable. Hermione, hot stuff, and never once had she ever paraded it around. It was like she was waiting to show off for a few people in particular; one, or maybe the only one, I assumed, was me. I went to unfasten my shirt. I didn't mean to ogle. I didn't mean to stare. Thankfully, my eyes were covered when I gazed upon how her body fit her beach wear. How her breasts filled out her bikini top. How her waist slipped inward and then back out slightly as her sides neared her hips.

Hermione went to give me a once-over, having unveiled my bare chest. She saw me staring, but I didn't turn away. She smirked, which in turn made me smile. What did I have to be ashamed of again? She was my woman. Besides…her stare lingered longer. Even after I folded my shirt and slipped it into our tote bag she continued to look at me. She dropped her head down and gazed over her aviators. I tilted my body toward her, placing my palm down in my turn against the towel beneath us, and kissed her. I felt her grin as she responded back, pressing into me with her lips.

Glancing down at the book in her lap, the colour of the cover, the binding, the stylized words reminded me of a piece of literature I had read before. I lay my head against her shoulder and asked curiously, looking at the spread novel, "I think I've read that-what's it called?"

Hermione leaned her head into mine and turned a page. She was a little more than a third of the way finished. "A little series called `Moonlight'…about a female vampire utterly infatuated by a male human. For over a century, she's never wanted to feast on a human's blood so much until she found this guy…and she's fascinated, wanting to know more, and ends up falling in love," I felt her rub her cheek in my hair. "My best friend suggested the series a while back."

I turned my head to meet her cheek and planted a caress. Hermione moved and met my lips, and I smiled. "That best friend must be pretty lucky to have you."

"I'm pretty lucky to have him."

I placed my palm gently against Hermione's semi-naked stomach and felt her quickly inhale as I kissed her once more on the lips. I whispered to her after, our noses nearly touching, "You're absolutely stunning."

***

After applying a thin coat of sunscreen and relaxing with my lover, the waves of the ocean must have assisted my action, drifting me off to sleep. I remembered drowsily being disturbed by some kids cheerfully laughing around us. My head was in her lap and her hands were in my hair. Her light comb lulled me right back to my dreamscape. In my dream, I saw myself making love to Hermione. Right there on the beach, in the sand; the two of us in an intimate pairing of consummation. At dusk, with the sea and the sky combining as one single colour purple, making it difficult to catch where the horizon lay in the distance. I was wrapped around her, and she around me. I found her panting in my ear and I felt our release.

Another heavy dose of laughter riled me awake. My eyes fluttered, having taken off my Ray Bans. The ripe smell of salty, sea spray burst through my nostrils making my eyes water. Not exactly the ultimate process of being aroused; but in contrast, the soothing scent of vanilla helped vanquish the burn. I rolled my face into the tender thigh I lay on and felt the same hand in my messy hair. She had stopped for a moment, and tried to begin again, but the sound of her voice got me up.

"That's awful…," she exclaimed above me. I rose from her lap and ran my hand across my face. I must have slept for quite a while as sleep was in my eye, and when I'd taken care of that, my focus went to the surrounding people around our beach camp. Three males, a female, Neville, and Ginny were all sitting in places in what could be considered circular. All of them had a bottle of butterbeer in their hands.

"Good morning, sleepy-head!" The squeak of Ginny made me look at her. She sat close to Neville, Indian-style on a towel, with a brown bottle between her legs.

I glanced at Hermione. Her aviators were still on, but I could tell she was looking at me. "What's up?" My voice came out lower than normal, and I cleared my throat to ask again. "What's going on?"

"Well, sleepy-head, these are some of the guys we were playing volleyball with," Ginny pointed at the first guy, and moved to the next, and then the following. "Thomas, Monroe, Cassidy, and Kent. They're college students from the United States and are studying here for a few months."

"Yeah," said Kent with his tanned arm around Cassidy's bronzed shoulder. "And we had to get out here. We've been living in an apartment in London for the past few weeks and the weather finally cooperated."

"We're tired of the dreary rain," Cassidy spoke, nodding her head. "We get enough of that in Rhode Island."

I looked around at the four of them. They were all rather dark for complaining about the weather. Between us four and them it was like night versus day. Monroe had the lightest of the coloured hair, blonde, which looked a bit odd against his complexion. Thomas stuck his hand out to me, "Sorry about disturbing you, bro."

I took his hand in mine and shook, "It's no problem. Didn't mean to fall asleep, anyway. How was the game?"

"They beat the bloody snot out of us," cried Neville, swirling his butterbeer bottle. He took a drink. "I don't think we ever scored."

Monroe laughed and tilted his head up to Neville, "It's all in good fun, man. All in good fun. Didn't mean to spike the ball at your head like that. I still feel bad." Monroe stuck his fist out and Neville second-glanced. Monroe motioned with a nod of his head.

"Still friends, bro?"

Neville balled his fist up and touched Monroe's, "Definitely. No bad blood."

"Awesome." Monroe let his head fall back as he drank from the nearly-blackened, brown bottle. When he came up, I saw his eyes roam toward Hermione on my right. His blue eyes sat on her for a second, and then had them switch over at me. "Harry, is it?"

How Monroe looked at Hermione felt…threatening. In retrospect, I believe I would have laughed at myself for thinking there would be a possibility of Hermione clamoring for the guy. But, I was nineteen and vulnerable in that area. My first great love. To tighten my security, I slipped my arm around Hermione without giving a thought about what I had done and felt her fall against my shoulder.

"Yeah," was all I was able to get out. My body and mind went into alert-mode.

Monroe, his short blonde hair in spikes, held his hand out to me, "Names Monroe, glad to meet you."

I could feel eyes on me when I hesitated the shake. From the corner of my vision, I caught Ginny slowly pulling the tip of the bottle down from her mouth. She knew what I was thinking. She probably had a hunch at Monroe's thoughts, too. Not to mention the sudden defensiveness I'd projected throughout the crowd. Hermione seemed rather unfazed, curled up beside me. I took that as a positive and let my hand out.

I shook Monroe's hand.

"Sorry we woke you…," Hermione whispered into my ear. I shot her a glance from the corner of my eye. She smiled, "You looked so handsome in my lap, asleep."

"That's all right," I grinned at her. I went forward and caressed her waiting lips briefly. I left her in a smile.

"So…," Cassidy spoke up after another drink. "We were casually talking with Ginny and Neville here, and wanted to know if you guys were down for a party tonight. Nothing major, just something on the beach."

"It's going to be awesome, though," continued Kent where Cassidy left off. "A bonfire and a few other buds from our apartment."

"And alcohol!" shouted Thomas.

"To alcohol!" Monroe clinked his butterbeer bottle with Thomas.

"I…sorta…invited you guys already," announced Ginny, her voice trailing off in the middle.

My eyes focused on Ginny, "Thanks, Gin. What if Hermione and I had plans tonight?"

"That's why I invited you!" Ginny rang out, putting her butterbeer on her thigh. "The only plans you had were to be with us! And, Neville and I are going to the bonfire!"

I glanced back over at Hermione who, in turn, said with a shrug, "It might be fun?"

"Are you sure?"

"Come on!" yelled Monroe. "A party! Alcohol! What isn't there to love?!"

He winked at me, and somewhere deep in my gut, I knew something bad was bound to happen.

***

"I'll help Harry take this back to the car, `Mione," told Ginny, looking back at Hermione. I'd already taken up the cooler when Ginny came rushing to me. She grabbed the handles, her hands alongside mine, and pushed the weight up. Hermione stood, rooted in her spot. She looked dumbfounded, but shook her head. She started helping Neville with the rest of the stuff.

"Uhh…," I began, unsure what to say. "Thanks?"

"What the bloody Hell was that all about?!" shouted Ginny under her breath. It's difficult to walk backwards, see where your going, and understand why someone is scolding you all at the same time.

"What are you talking about now?"

"Those guys were saints!" urged Ginny, moving along step-by-step at my pace. "And you had to go and cock some attitude! What's with you?"

"Gin, it's none of your business," I sighed angrily. The sight of Monroe observing Hermione like a piece of meat wandered back into my head. I was trying to repress the memory, but Ginny re-invented the wheel. Lovely. "And, quit bumping the cooler into me. It's annoying."

"I thought the whole idea for today was to `have fun'? Get out? Be with us?" Ginny had to step over the parking cement blocks after I did, and I waited for her to come over.

"We're going with you guys," I expressed firmly. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"See! Look!" We were nearing my car and I had to adjust the cooler to retrieve the keys in my swimming trunk pocket. I glanced down after lifting my knee to hold some of the weight, and heard Ginny say, "There's that attitude again!"

I popped open the back of the BMW. We stood parallel with each other and slid the cooler in easily. All the while, my mind was unraveling. The picture of Monroe and his "look" continued to push, and push, and push into my emotions until finally I slammed the trunk door down. I stepped right up to Ginny and put an arm on the car to lean.

I tore my Ray Bans off my nose and hung them from my other hand beside my hip. I glared at her, her eyes intent on mine, "Look, Gin, you didn't see him. You didn't see him staring at her like he was about to come over and shag her rotten. So butt out, okay?"

"That's the problem? That's the big deal here?" Ginny gazed up into the dulling sky and laughed. "Men are such children!"

"No, I am in love-that's my `big deal'."

Ginny came back to my eyes. She poked my chest with her index finger, the wind she created after pulling her arm away blew open the unbutton part along the centre of my shirt. "Listen to me, Harry. When you and I were together at Hogwarts, guys would stare at me. They would stare, but they wouldn't act. There's a difference!"

"Yeah? Well, what if he acts? Hm? What if he touches her?"

"How's he going to do that by chance?"

"I don't suffocate Hermione. She's gone and done her thing away from me before," I shrugged. "Who knows if he'll take that very opportunity to try something?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Harry, dear, mi amigo-Hermione's hot. You're going to have to deal with it sooner or later. Boys, men, whatever, are going to stare at her. Hell, sometimes I look at men, so what?"

I chuckled, "I bet Neville would croak if he heard that."

"I've seen Neville glance at women who walk by, who cares?"

"What a relationship."

Ginny put her hand to her forehead and held it, her other arm propping her elbow up, "We're sex-driven beings. If we look, it's natural. If we act, that's separate; that's when we've gone past being civilized and into animals."

I leaned close to Ginny and really looked at her, my eyes wide, "That guy…he looked like an animal."

Ginny got nose-to-nose with me, "Believe me, if that guy tries anything, or if any other guy tries anything, I'll be the first to kick his ass and then, maybe, if there's anything left I'll let you kick his ass, too. Hermione loves you, so drop it."

The smack of metal-to-metal shook my awareness. Someone had opened and shut the car door. I stood back up, straight, and saw Hermione wiggling in the backseat and Neville stepping into the passenger's chair. I looked from Ginny, to them, and back to her. I just shook my head, sighed, and slipped my glasses on. I stepped beside Ginny and felt her hand go to my chest. She stopped me as she placed her sunglasses on as well, and said softly, "Trust me, everything will be good as gold."

"Even `civilized' people enjoy stealing gold," I replied in rebuttal.

***

"Having fun?" Hermione giggled into me. We were sitting together on a piece of driftwood a few feet away from the blazing bonfire. When the group from America said a "few of their buds," what they actually meant were twenty, at least. That's not including them. Every one of them acted tipsy, and every hand had an alcoholic beverage of choice. Some were sitting close together, like us. Others were running around the beach screaming, playing, flirting, guys chasing girls. People were running into the water and shouting with laughter.

Neville and Ginny were discussing something on the other side of the fire. They had to have been talking about something extremely funny as they'd all get to howling like wolves. I glanced back at my dizzied girl, a bit sloshed from her third butterbeer. I set mine down in the sand, and tightened my grip around her. I felt a little drunk myself.

"I always have fun when I'm with you," I smiled and kissed her. She pushed back on me rough and slithered her tongue inside my mouth. The tip of hers tapped on mine, electrifying spots and causing me to tug on her body with my hands. My fingers hooked into her belt loops. I pulled her into me and she fell away, and atop my lap.

Hermione started laughing hysterically, and I started too. I don't recall anything being relatively funny, but everything was funny just the same. It had to have been the drinks. I saw her take up my butterbeer and put it to her mouth. She bumped her shoulder against me, rising back to her rear, and drank a fair bit of it. When she came to, she eyed me, dazed. She hiccupped and started laughing again, her hand going to cover her mouth. I snickered.

"We should go take a dip in the ocean…," she said, suppressing another hiccup.

"We didn't bring an extra set of clothes, though," I said, pulling at my white t-shirt. We'd gone back to change and shower. Us four stopped on the way back to eat dinner, too. I stretched my legs out in front of me, my left hand in my dark blue jean pocket while my other held around Hermione.

Hermione curled around me, her arms tight. Her navy blue ruched halter top folded when she pressed into me. One strap held around her neck, her lovely shoulders and arms exposed, parts of her upper back as well. She laid her legs across mine, clad in ripped, bleached denim. Her feet were bare, her Converse shoes beside the driftwood.

Hermione ran the tip of her finger along my neck slowly. I purred into a growl, a tiger waiting to pounce. She whispered into my ear, "That's the whole idea…"

She blew her cool air gently into my ear causing every, single, solitary hair on my body-and other parts-to stand on end. I grabbed her, making her squeal with laughter, and snogged her hard. Her arms immediately wrapped around my neck. My hands immediately roamed along her waist and hiked up her shirt to get at her stomach. My hands were carving into her back, her body against mine, when I heard the uproar start and flourish around me:

"There's no more beer!"

"The booze is gone!"

"No more alcohol?! I'm gonna cry!"

"Chill out!" Ginny's piercing holler broke through the whines of the masses. I was caught up in Hermione, her hair, her neck, the hollow of her throat, when I heard my name get shout out. "Harry! We need you!!"

I moved so I could see Ginny through Hermione's strands of hair. Our arms and bodies still locked around each other. "Not right now, I'm busy."

I went back to Hermione's lips when I felt someone tug on my shirt. I looked up to see Ginny right there between us. "It will only take a second-or give me your keys and I'll get the rest!"

"Ugh…Gin…sometimes…," I reach into my pocket to get the keys when I stopped. I gave Hermione a quick kiss and stated gently, "Stay right here, baby…I'll be right back."

"When you get back, we're going into the water…," Hermione grinned, watching me get up and leave with Ginny. She winked at me and took up my butterbeer bottle to take another swig.

I slipped my hands in my pockets and pulled out the keys. My bare feet trudged through the thick, warmed sand. I eyed Ginny and shook my head, "Couldn't you see I was a little busy?"

"I told you to give me the keys. I know where the cooler is, I'm not a moron."

"Knowing you, you'd take the car for a joyride," I hit the button on my keys to undo the back. The door stalled, and then lifted into the air. We came around, and Ginny's hands went to the cooler first.

"Don't trust me now, Potter?" Ginny smirked, her body in the cooler. She mimicked Severus. I knew that cold tone well after all those years in Potions. I heard the sloshing of ice and the clink-clink of bottles being pushed around.

She handed me some butterbeer, and took the rest up by her chest. I shook my head in response, "Not when you're sloshed. You're even slurring you're so wasted."

"Am no-hic!" She burped and went to cover her mouth, letting a bottle drop to the cement and bust open. "Whoops!"

"Aw…Ginny…," I bent down to grab the larger pieces and threw them over the embankment. "So help me, if any of my tires pop I'm coming for you and the money."

"That's what wands are for if you remember, Harry," I closed-shut the trunk and waddled, like Ginny, carefully across the tiny shard of glass. That's one thing I didn't want: my feet to be all cut open and get who knows what from the beach. Ginny sung from in front of me, "Reeeeparo!"

She started laughing. I shook my head and sighed. A car full of drunks on the way home. Great. I wasn't really sure why I gazed back in the general direction of Hermione, other than the fact that I wanted to see her. But, it was as if Fate wanted me to at that very moment. As if someone beseeched me to do so, to witness what occurred right that very second.

Ginny was in a gallop far down the sandy hill. The reddish-orange fire made everything in its radius its colour. Shadows moved by the bodies that formed them. A separate shadow loomed in the distance where I once sat on the driftwood. Hermione hadn't moved like I asked her to, but…someone else did.

I knew from his stupid spiked hair it was Monroe. He'd come over probably when I left. I saw his arm behind her, his hand near her ass, holding the driftwood beneath them. He'd talk, or something, and Hermione would jerk her head away. He reached for her hair and got a strand, swinging a bottle of our butterbeer in his other hand. Something in me snapped. I went insane.

I didn't remember dropping all the bottles. But, as I made my way in a sprint down the hill toward the bonfire, my arms were suddenly free. I passed Ginny who glanced at me as if I were crazy-good choice. She said something to me that went in one ear and out the other. My eyes were on Monroe. My feet made a track right to him. My teeth were clinched, my body tense, and I could actually feel the acids in my arms begin to tingle my muscle.

I came around the driftwood and didn't catch sight of Hermione. My face contorted with fury, my intentions were on the scum beside her. I pushed him off the driftwood before he could respond. He fell back on his behind and glared at me, as if I were the one with the screws loose. I heard shouting from behind me, but my ears were perked up to his words.

"What the Hell is your problem, man?!" Monroe said, getting to his feet hastily.

"Who gave you permission to touch her?"

Monroe looked around at the people behind me. Everyone went silent and I could feel eyes settled on us. He smiled at me and tilted his chin up, "She seemed pretty free to me, if you know what I mean."

"Harry," Hermione pulled on my hand. She had slid near me on the driftwood, still seated. She was in whisper even though everyone could hear her. "Let's just get out of here."

"The party's only begun, babe," Monroe smiled, leaning toward Hermione. I could smell the rich alcohol permeate from him breath. I saw his hand reach out to her and never once thought about what to do next. My fist hit him. My fist hit his face. Again. And again. And again. I heard people scream, and probably Hermione too. I felt people grabbing me, trying to pull me off Monroe. I had him in the sand. He got some good shots on me, but my fist found better. His friends decided to join in, and that's when I saw Neville at my side. When Thomas struck my jaw from behind, Neville tackled him to the beach and punched his face. He might have broken his nose, blood splattering across his cheek.

Alcohol and violence: two of the most volatile catalysts to mix together. The combination will always lead to unfortunate consequences. We made it out of there at any rate. As a result, though, we were heavily battered. When I left Neville and Ginny, having taken them home after the fabulous evening, I shook Neville's hand carefully due to the bruises on both our hands. We gave each other a brotherly hug, again, carefully. His nose was swollen, and his right eye gained a charming purple colour.

Ginny stomped her way into the house and I heard her stomp her way up their stairs. She slammed a door, making Neville and I jump. He looked into the house after her, and then shrugged, shaking my hand a second time before I left their doorway. I maneuvered, slowly, to the car. I didn't feel bad for what I'd done. Actually, I felt pretty damn good…besides the fact that everything on me ached. I couldn't wait to strip down and see all the black spots on my body, especially the sucker punch Monroe gave me to the kidney.

I drove home in silence with Hermione next to me. She came up to the passenger seat when Neville got out. Not even the radio was on, clicked off by Ginny far prior to this point. The neon blue light from the panel in front of us was the only stimulation in the quiet atmosphere. I peered at Hermione when I came to a stop light and saw her erect, looking forward. I don't think she breathed, but I did see her blink.

I turned my head to face forward, and when the stop light flickered green I pushed on the gas pedal. I sighed and finally punctured the silence by saying unshakably, "I'm not going to apologize for what I did…"

I sighed again, "…but, I wish you would at least talk to me. Say something, anything-yell at me-you haven't said a word since we left Blackpool Sands."

Hermione didn't flinch at all. She stared into the open blackness that was nightfall. The headlights of my BMW dollied across a stop sign. I followed instructions, glancing to the left, and then the right, before turning on a side-path home. The clock on the radio rolled over another minute and I glanced back at Hermione. I sighed, her hands in her lap, the seatbelt firm to her chest. I looked back at the road solemnly and flicked my head to watch a car pass us. I shook my head, not knowing what to say anymore, how to act…when I felt her: her lips on my cheek and the pull of the leather as she adjusted, twisting to me across the armrest in the centre of the vehicle.

She grazed her nose along that spot on my face, and kissed me there once more before moving back in the seat.

{Inspirations for the Chapter: The Scientist by Coldplay (which has become one of my favorite songs, a theme for the fic), a lot of Joan Jett (greatly inspired by the fruition of the biopic that recently debuted), and The B52s as some}

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