Unofficial Portkey Archive

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.

…Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end - Luna Lovegood

***

Chapter Seventy-seven - Changes

***

"My own masseuse…" I lay on my stomach with a pillow under my head. My arms above my head, I had the pillow, clutching its malleable down. I was in smile with my eyes closed, feeling her straddling my back, her hands working my shoulders. "I should be glad you're not tired."

I heard her silken laughter.

I felt her move down, her body relaxed on mine, her hands on my triceps. "Thank you," she whispered into my ear.

"What for?"

"For being you, and your incredible self."

"If I had a knut for every time-"

She poked my side. "I'm serious!"

I could tell she was in one of her signature smirks.

"You took her in when you didn't have to."

"I took her in because I love you, and she's your best friend."

"I know you and her haven't exactly gotten along…"

"What siblings do?" I chuckled along the pillowcase. "I mean, I've never really had a sister-and now I feel like I have one."

"I just wanted to thank you, again…" She caressed the back of my neck just below the hairline. She went to my ear and kissed the lobe, nudging her nose in my hair, whispering, too, "And, to say how much I love you."

Retracting my dominant arm from around the pillow, I reached back and felt first her beautiful, smooth calf, and then to her beautiful, velvety thigh. I squeezed her, and I heard her smile into me. She kissed my cheek, and with a bit of challenge tried to kiss my mouth. She found the corner in her twist and turn, and laughed when she managed only to caress there.

"You know," I added, feeling her push back up on me. I found her hands back on my upper back where she resumed her massage, getting her fingers deep into the two pronounced muscles below my shoulders. I had left her thigh for the pillow, and smiled at her return. "If it weren't for the actual process of getting everyone together, you'd be a Potter by now somewhere in Paris."

"Missus Hermione Jane Potter," she reiterated, annunciating her name and mine dreamlike. "That'll be what daddy will want to discuss when we have dinner."

"And, I'll just have to tell him that it's been far too long of a wait to have you mine."

I smiled, and I knew she did, too, making a tiny, giddy giggle. "Harry…," she said, lowering again and in her raspy voice.

My ears perked to her sultry sound back beside my ear.

"…On our honeymoon night-"

"Nights." I inserted, fixing what needed to be fixed. Because really…

"Nights…," I heard that tiny laughter and smile at my ear, her loose strands teasing my naked skin in her lean. "Those honeymoon nights I will utterly rock your world, your universe even."

"Should I be worried?" I laughed through my nose.

"Mm…," She kissed my neck once more, dragging her nails across my back ever-so-slowly, softly. "Twenty-four seven-I want to be making love to you every second of every minute of every hour of those days."

The hairs on the backside of my neck stood on end, as did other things.

Her tone had gotten so sensuous, seductive, low so I had to make that effort to listen and that listening paid off hundred-fold.

She nibbled and pulled at my ear, biting down after I'd made a sound of enormous acceptance from my throat on my shoulder. "I want to make you the happiest man in the world."

"I am the happiest man in the world," I issued this with my hand finding her leg, her thigh again, where I squeezed.

She ran her face, her nose, her lips against my back. Her teeth grazed my goose-pimpled skin, roused and stimulated. "I want to make you where you can't feel your legs…"

I'd become deftly aware in all five sensations simultaneously by her touch, her aroma, her little groans as she took initiative in exploring me…

"…To make us so sore we can't even get out of bed all day…"

That was it.

I could take no more.

Awakened, and her unawareness, completely caught up in me…

I threw her off me and over, rolling to her back where she yelped out loud, squealed when I dove into her, and moaned, grasping me anywhere she could.

***

We did it because we were young.

We did it because we were alive.

We did it because we were in love.

To make each other lose it. To make each other go mad. To make each other do a face no one else would ever have a chance to see. Bare, for just us. Bare, like our emotions, our vulnerabilities, our human essence.

We did it because it felt good.

Great.

Fucking amazing.

She lay on her side, her hair a mess, distraught and sticky against her face and mine. She lay with her bum firmly pressed against me. I held her parted leg. She held me, her arm around my neck. Her other hand had gone to the headboard. She tried to keep herself still, and in the process made the already noisy bed even noisier. A thump would be heard when I prolonged my thrust, making her whimper, making her look at me against the steady pushes into her. I'd go to pull out and would slow myself, to see those bright eyes of hers by mine, our foreheads touching. Then, in the same moment see her eyes closed, her back arch ever-so-slightly from the white sheets, and her head tilt in the direction she so wanted to balance.

I'd hold her against me, to feel every bit of Hermione churn and go wild. Hot, slick… I'd begin again at a rhythmic pace, kissing her waiting mouth. She let go of the headboard to meet my hand, to intertwine her fingers with mine and use me as that needed equilibrium. I felt of my lioness, lovingly caressing her lips, her throat, before going to her breasts. Mesmerized by how her body attuned to mine, I'd kept watch at how she moved to capture one of her little hard nipples betwixt my lips. I'd hear her moan, feel her push into me, and I'd release only to suck back down on her tiny areola.

I made her roll over on her stomach. I made her crawl up with me. Over her, my body eclipsed hers. I found it sexy, a thing of beauty, honestly, to see and know I had her and could do these things. How she knew me, and knows me; how she completely surrenders herself to her lion. How she trusts me with every bit of her heart. How she knows I'll treat her body, as I do her mind, with the utmost respect-and love.

I lowered to her, and with me, skin-to-skin, drove back into her. Her arse was made to push into the air by force, her spine in that wondrous arch. I watched her hands, her fingers gripping hard the mattress sheets. My ears perked to those repeating, matching breaths she took, as if she were out of breath, but knowing that it was because of the ride. I couldn't see her face, but kissed along her back, gradually standing onto my knees.

I'd pull out slowly just to see her pink pull out with me. I held her arse and would thrust smoothly back in only to do the same over and over. She'd tighten around my circumference every time, and she'd tighten her hold of the bed. I gave her bum a smack, reaching out to grab those shaking mahogany tassels. I gave the fistful a pull, to hear Hermione clamor in pleasure.

I let go, to remove from her perfect arse, to grab her perfect small waist. I grasped her above her hips and pulled her up with me from the bed. She did so without resistance, pushing off herself to sit straight down on my seated lap. Sitting on my feet, my knees only slightly outward, I watched-and helped-her bounce in the pocket I created. Her rounded arse cushioned against my thighs. Wrapping my arms about her, my left hand holding her right breast whilst the other held about her centre, I took advantage of the position and ground into her from beneath.

She dipped to my shoulder, and like the position I took advantage to savor her between those sharp inhales and exhales.

"Right there-right-!" She gritted her teeth, but couldn't, a cutting moan expelled into a heightened whine. She tried to hold back another, only to whimper and anchor herself. I'd let her go, to lean back towards the bed. My arms kept me up as I beat her little bum across my pelvis. Her arm muscles tensed, her fingernails dug into my thighs she held. I heard her gasp, felt her become rigid. Silence filled the air between us those few second sans the blows to her arse.

She cried out as she came, tilting her head back to release such an animalistic sound from her narrowed, quavering core.

Propelling myself to her, I pushed from the bed after loving the exhilarating feeling of my beloved so secure around me, so contracted. It felt as if a test she made to see if I could continue.

I passed.

Slipping her from me and into my arms, I cradled her to the bed where she laid. We kissed, her hands in my strewn crow's nest, her hands on my neck, shoulders. I pressed against her, pushed, and felt my shaft slide easily through her slit. I teased her, enraptured by her and how I made those moans.

I could resist no longer, hungry.

I needed to taste what I had done, what she did, her.

My flexible Hermione got into a pose, assisting her at first. My hands pushed her legs backwards and held them, having her curve upwards and at me. When she had them, her legs, she went to place them at her head. I marveled at how she could do this, her eyes on me as I lowered and roughly licked her. I licked her again, my eyes on hers, or what once were two vividly cinnamon irises peering across our plane. She closed them by my touch, inhaling sharply as I did to moan when I had begun to feed.

Sugary sweet honey, I lapped my lover, smiling when she'd have to release her fixed sight of me. Her eyes would flutter when I'd lick that magnificent span. Her body would make her do this. I bit into her arsecheek to see that knowing grin, and then caressed the spot, making her close those eyes once more when traveling back down that exquisite segment. I had my face in her, feeding on what I'd come for and enjoying every thrill she had with a smile.

Moistening my fingers, I advanced them across her, noting as I did how close she was now that I'd leaned up some. I slid to her right and kissed her, her throat, her jaw, her cheek, and then her mouth. My fingers penetrated, and what once was a delicate, but sated kiss broke for a gasp. She saw my hand, and that of my one hidden finger, and then glanced at me. She sought back my mouth and kissed me, groaning from her throat with every fluid motion from my middle finger.

Releasing our kiss, our foreheads resting, my ear to her tiny squeals, I slid in another. I watched as my ring finger, alongside its brother, gently slipped into the warm reaches of my fiance. She locked around me, constricting, when I'd move about. I could hear the sounds of her sex, at how wet she was, her figure contorting beside me.

I slid out, and as I did watched my middle and ring finger separate to see a sticky line break between them.

She grabbed that arm, and then my hand. I watched her first open her mouth, and then felt her suckle. Her eyes flittered to close, her tongue tasting her and I within.

I moved away, and as I did, she let go of her legs. Like a pendulum, she rose as her legs fell, her feet on the bed, and me between her. She leapt on me, pulling me down, pushing me to the bed. I thought she were to get on, to begin another ride. She held me down, moving to my left, her right hand on my chest as he left took hold of my erection. She grinned at me and tossed her hair over one shoulder, over the one where I could watch her, and lowered downward on her knees.

She took me in her mouth, the sudden rush of warmth bringing my own eyes to a close. My left hand went to her back where I rubbed, my right went to hold that bushiness. I wrapped her hair around my fist and watched, feeling her bob. I felt her suction, heard it, too. The tip of her tongue licked up one side of me, and then the other, tracing at last the engorged centre.

She gave me a pump and I moaned in satisfaction. She pulled my foreskin back and took only my head in. I felt the thick of her hot tongue press against me, swirling that softness around the base before bobbing down and pulling back up. She lowered and went again, doing the same but dropping another inch, and then another, my head swimming.

I felt her gag when she lifted, lowering a final time after a lick of the tip to swallow my entire length. I held back my pop. All the blood in me raced to my dick, throbbing, and at the ready inside Hermione's gorgeous pink mouth. She went to pull up and go again. I sat up and gave the top of Hermione's head a kiss, feeling her suck. I didn't mean to begin thrusting, a reaction, my reflex. She kept still as I did, allowing me to fuck her mouth until I felt her gag and lift all the way off this time.

I took her face in my hands and kissed her. She gripped my hair, the side of my face, crawling on her knees upwards to stand. I took her in my arms, my hands on her hips where I hoisted her up and around me. I sat up onto my bum, and as I did, watched her eyes leave me to swivel around behind. I felt my manhood being handled with care, her silky hands grasping the shaft, directing me into her.

Her eyes closed when she sat down, and mine did, too, feeling her instantly clamp. She immediately drew her legs in, like the frog position in her yoga. With her knees at my chest, I held her arse. I took liberty, taking the reins again, knowing my hands were the ones directing her every move. Our lips fused, and she kissed me with fervor, taking my face in her hands.

Her hands left me as she hugged me, my head, my face in her neck. Her little pants grew alongside the subsequent thrusts, pushing harder, faster into Hermione. I could feel her body rock, her form tensing again where she unleashed another cry of pleasure into my sweat-trodden black hair. Her contraction led me over the edge. In freefall, and much of my displeasure, wanting to observe another orgasm I'd done to her, my eyes clenched together. My body grew taut. I could feel my heartbeat, and the heat I had produced. I felt the pressure build until its release.

I came, never ceasing to slow down the pummel.

I felt each wave hit me, the first hard and quick.

With each thrust I felt the non-impeded gush, and again for the third, fourth, fifth, and final time.

I held myself in Hermione at the end, feeling empty…and feeling high.

High on life.

High on love.

High on Hermione.

She'd settled down, giving me a well-deserved kiss.

I gave one back, long and needed, for she had been just as good to me.

She rose on me after a while, readjusting her legs to fit better around me. She took my hands and led them to her waist, her middle, her stomach where I felt moisture: a mix of me and a mix of her. She led my fingers up, across her ribs, to her wonderful, perky tits. She had me squeeze, and she didn't have to ask twice, molding her girls to the shape of my palms. She tried to flick her hair back, that one bit crowding her sight, but laughed when strands stuck to her cheek. I smiled, seeing her having to manually pluck them from her cheek.

She grinned, laying her hands back on mine, fondling as directed. She lowered, taking with her my hands until I removed myself when she enveloped me, embracing me about my neck. I hugged her, too, my strong arms her stability.

She lowered to kiss me, meshing our noses as one.

My hands ran the length of her back.

***

I awoke when I couldn't feel her anymore.

I made a sweeping action with my arm in my twilight-sleep and felt nothing.

Instantly I awoke, lifting from my stomach to see her side empty and the light on behind me. Flipping to the side, I caught her pouring over some books over at her vanity. Curled up in what looked like a shirt she'd gotten from my side of the wardrobe, she sat deep in the tome she had spread across the desk. I sighed with a smile and just rolled my sleepy eyes.

"'Mione," I spoke, which startled her from her read.

She jolted and put her hand to her chest. "Christ! Harry, you frightened me!"

I gave a tiny chuckle and rolled over on my bum, sitting up in bed.

"I thought you were sound asleep!" she whispered an octave above silent.

A ran my hands over my face and peered narrowly out into the lamplight she had on aside her. "Only my Hermione would read a book after our great sex."

She saw me get up, shifting to the bedside where I threw the sheets from me and took up my boxers laying haphazardly on the floor with the other articles of her clothing. Pulling them up and letting the elastic band snap on my waist, I looked back towards her and her enormous grin.

She wriggled her eyebrows, and I laughed.

"Oh you…"

"I thought lighting a fag would've been a bit cliche," she shrugged, eyeing me as I wandered over to her.

I smiled and took her up in my arms, wrapping them around her as she sat crisscrossed on her chair. "You stole my Superman t-shirt, eh?"

"Mhmm…," she nodded, leaning back into my embrace. "Who wouldn't?"

"Good choice," I mused, laughing, finding her cheek where I kissed her.

She turned, finding my face with hers, my lips where she tasted, caressing me. "I didn't want to wake you. You looked so tired."

"You're going to be tired, too; and, we've got to get to Ginny's."

"Wasn't tired, really."

"What's wrong?"

"Oh-nothing," she replied shortly.

"Hermione…" I nudged the side of her head with mine. "Let's hear it, then."

"Thinking."

"About?"

"Everything…"

"I'll be with you every step."

She turned back to me from the book and smiled. "I love you."

"I love you." Our lips fused again, leaving us with a smile in return.

"You're thinking about school, aren't you?" I added afterwards.

"Not really," she shook her head.

"I believe the book-reading gave it away, Love."

Hermione gave another shrug, and then looked back at me. "I'm with you."

"And, I want to be with you," I kissed her. "Here's a thought."

"Hm?"

"Knowing I'm practically an outcast now, and knowing I've got to be a `Muggle' now…"

Hermione softly chuckled at the hint of sarcasm.

"Maybe being with you on campus wouldn't be so bad."

"Going to Oxford, you mean?" Her brow rose and she produced her signature grin. "Or is being with me that much of a pain in the royal arse?"

I laughed. "I mean, I'm not as smart as you-"

"Harry…," she scowled.

"Really, Hermione…"

"You're incredibly brilliant."

"I don't hold a wand to you."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. "Continue…"

"I could go with you, enroll."

"You could. Who's stopping you?"

"No one." I grinned with her.

"Enroll with you, share your experiences and share more of your life with you."

"I like that idea," she nodded with me. She smiled, and as I leaned inward did she meet me in a kiss.

"In fact," she broke from me a moment to state. "I love that idea."

"I knew you would," I smiled, tightening my arms about her and feeling her touch as we resumed our loving kisses.

***

I had a revelation. It wasn't new, but the revelation would heed itself when the time came. And this morning, with the sounds of cold rain hitting the roof, was one of those mornings. I don't know why I awoke. I looked up at the time, having to lift to see the clock passed Hermione in dreamland. I laid back down, the digits on the clock mimicking the bluish-gray atmosphere cascading from the window. The sun tried its best to break through the wintery London skies, struggling through broken lines in the clouds but ultimately shown through the overcast tint and into our bedroom.

I noted Crookshanks curled up beside his mum, in a crook her legs and the sheets made. Then, I took note of my lover and how she fit on me. She faced away from me in her slumber, spooning, cuddling as she fancied. I'd been a busier boy, loving the feeling of Hermione against me and in my hand. I'd held a breast through the night, or after our shags. I guessed even in sleep I needed, and wished, to keep intimate, to feel her that way-my woman.

My woman, indeed; small compared to my stature. Thus was the revelation, the fact that with her perfect fit described how I overcame her. Beyond the biologic male strength, I found the feeling highly sexual, literally and figuratively. Literally, because I could do what I wanted-and did so. Figuratively, because she really resembled that of a delicate flower; one that could be tainted, and had, unfortunately, among our younger years.

I became philosophical the closer I found myself labeled "the groom". That, this wasn't like anything else. This was my heart. I thought of the story of Adam and Eve, and how Adam created Eve in the reflection of him. I thought, kissing her while she sleep soundlessly, feeling each breath she took as I held her close: maybe this was like it. That, I lived because of her. My heart. My life. The very air I breathed.

That without her, like Adam to Eve, I wouldn't be in harmony.

I cherished her, I did; in fact, I felt at times our love spiritual, greater than the physical. I respected her. I nurtured her needs. I hoped to have given and would give her everything she ever wanted in life. Some parts of me shook with anticipation. What if I fucked up? Other parts shook with exhilaration. This was a new beginning.

Though I knew in the end that we would be as one.

A Mister and Misses Harold James Potter.

And that I could smile to.

I smelled of her hair, tasted her skin, lavished in her softness.

When she eventually moved, rousing her awake or just barely, I was at her throat. She put her fingers on my cheek first, and then rolled to my chest. Her hand on my cheek, and in a gradual capture of my Hermione, I pulled her twilight-eyes towards me and kissed her lips. When I released, I pecked her cheek, slipping to her ear, and then down into her hair.

I heard her "Mm…," my hands intent in traveling her form, each curve my road, my fingertips the vehicles. Clutching her breasts, my arms paralleled midline to her body, I embraced her. I held her tightly, having pulled her to the brink where nothing but a severely thin line separated our puzzle pieces.

"Good morning…," I said in a rough tone in her hair, at her throat. I lightly bite down on her shoulder and heard her sharply inhale through her mouth, and then groggily let out another "Mmm…".

Crookshanks was up to, having been disturbed by me, her, Hermione adjusting her legs beneath the sheets with mine. He stretched out his orange fur body and rubbed himself against his mummy's leg.

"You're not all the way awake, are you?" I smiled at her ear, caressing behind the lobe to feel her fight between sleep and wake.

"Mmn…," She groaned, stretching like her kitty out in front of her, and then rejoined me, her hands over mine on her breasts. "…No, no… I'm awake…"

"Remember, love, we have to go over the Gin's to get her things." I smelled of her skin, giving the round of her shoulder a caress.

"Mm…"

"I really wore you out last night, didn't I?" I said through a light laugh and smile, giving her bare shoulder another kiss, kisses.

"Mmmm…" She elongated her tiny moan of agreement, seeing the corner of her mouth curl into a grin as I gazed over that shoulder. Her tired eyes wondered towards me when I moved to look at her, and that smile grew. She pushed back against me and laughed through her nose.

I laughed through my nose as well, watching that button-nose scrunch up with her wiggle. Rubbing my face into the delicate muscles of her back, I kissed her, kissing lines wherever my lips landed-which was everywhere. She squeezed my hands, and in turn, squeezed her. "You make me…"

I laughed, my face against her.

Her body slid silkily with mine.

"…I should stop or I'll never leave the bed ever again."

She laughed into a sigh, peeking over her shoulder me in her lazy, sleepy grin.

I kissed those spots on her shoulder, running my nose through her vanilla scent. "I'll let your tired body rest," I said sadly, for I hadn't wanted to really unattach from her. She felt me move, to leave, and turned towards me to see me sit up. She grinned at me through her morning daze, shutting her eyes, lying now on her back. Her arm, her hand reached out to touch what remained of me on the bed before slipping from the sheets.

I looked back, finding a pair of boxers and lounge trousers, to see my love in the stirred, ivory sheets. My sleeping beauty continued her grin all the while watching me prepare to venture downstairs. Distracted, and downright dismayed, I couldn't leave her without another kiss, or two…or five.

And I did so, having her roll towards me, my hand lightly laying on the softness of her tummy. My hand slipped to each of her breast, taking tender action when feeling of her again, my fingers slipping from one gentle slope to the other. She giggled from my touch, my hand ending up on her neck, her throat after the final caress unlocked.

I traced her jaw with my thumb. "I love you."

"And, I love you," she smiled through drooping eyelids.

I made a laugh. "I'll be back with breakfast."

"Okay…," she replied in her cute, quieted, sleepy voice.

Glancing back from the door I saw her, her eyes just opened in watching me leave. She gave another adorable grin.

If it wasn't for fulfilling the deal I promised, and my growling stomach…

I would've leapt right back with her in bed.

***

Trekking downstairs, I believed I heard a faint noise. I took a glance down the second level hall and saw the guest bedroom door open. Putting one and one together, and hearing more shuffling about-a ceramic dish tapping against the countertop or maybe the table-I turned the corner to see Gin at the coffee pot. A waft of black coffee hit me first, and then her eyes, flipping around when she heard me come in.

"Oh, Christ!" She held her heart with her left hand, her right holding one of our coffee mugs. She let out a breath. "You gave me a fright!"

I chuckled, slipping to her right. I went to lift my hand to take the teabags out of their package atop the shelf above the oven range when I saw a tea kettle already sitting on its surface. I went to point at it, to ask the obvious, when she replied before I could even speak, "It's been about fifteen minutes. It might be warm enough."

"Wow," My brows rose and I went for a mug myself. I took the tea kettle's handle and went to pour the clear, brown liquid. "I could get used to this treatment."

"Do I get anymore wishes, genie?" I mused, smirking as I set the warm tea to my lips. I winked at her.

"Always were the clever one, Harry," she went to make a grin, but settled for only half. As she went to drink her coffee she added, "Now I see that wit and charm Hermione always used to go on and on about."

I laughed, tilting my head back to really give it a go.

I saw her eyes roll at the over-exaggeration.

She put her arm across her chest, mimicking me, to support the elbow of the arm she held her coffee mug in. "It's too bad that wit and charm didn't last throughout our courtship, eh?"

I swallowed hard, straining at the end when I felt the tea just slightly overheat my throat.

"Sorry…"

"Yeah," I coughed, rubbing my chest. I blinked what water came to my eyes. "Where the Hell did that come from?"

"Nevermind what I said," She held her head, her forehead in her free hand. "I'm just…discombobulated."

"There," She glanced quickly through her fingers. "Hermione would be proud of me using big words."

I smirked.

She did, too; but, closed her eyes, hiding from the light.

"…How much exactly did I drink last night?"

"More than Hermione, and definitely more than me."

"I think it's all right, though," I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder closest to me. I gave it a squeeze for her to look back at me. "It's difficult…you need some release."

"We were keeping watch," I ended in a smile.

She went to grin, but failed. She gazed listlessly into her coffee. "…I swore to Neville I'd never drink another drop…"

Silence filled the kitchen a beat until I broke it, thinking, too, about my comrade, my brother, gone. "I could tell him everything I couldn't tell Ron. He was like my twin sibling-if I had had one. We had a lot of fun."

I saw Ginny stiffen, the veins on her neck protruding. I knew she was holding back another cry. As sad as it was… I had to reverse course for her, get her, and me, off the past tense.

"Remember," I began, giving her shoulder another squeeze, her back a light rub. My coaxing touch worked, her golden-brown irises staring back at me through welled tears. "Remember when we ran through that supermarket store, and you and Hermione were in the buggies?"

Gin breathed into a sniffle, bringing her hand to her nose and mouth where she laughed through some escaping tears. She nodded, having to wipe her nose with her hand, and then on her sleep shirt. I wiped those tear lines away under that Weasley-red, and saw, her hand taken off, a smile having crept back on her face. She placed her coffee mug down on the countertop and wrapped her arms around me. I set mine down, too, and wrapped my arms around her.

I took cautious care in stroking her hair through my fingers, her head beneath my chin. My other hand had found her back where I scratched. I could feel her hesitant breaths against my chest slowly drift away as she settled, returning to say, "We were nearly thrown out on our arses for that little stunt…"

I laughed, and she did, too.

"Yeah…," I sighed alongside her. "And that time at the beach. He had my back. He always had my back."

"He did. He loved you," She prodded my ribs. "But, that memory I could forget. I almost beat his arse that night for getting beat like that. You and him could've done better."

"There was-what?-six, seven of them versus us?!"

She chuckled into a sigh. "I forgot you never grew up with brothers constantly wanting to wrestle."

"Hermione's teaching me that now."

"I bet she is." I felt her light laughter.

"He loved you, Gin."

Silence ripened once again, but gradually faded by her whispered claim of, "…I know…"

I tightened my embrace of her when I felt her go limp, and with that puff of strength I instilled she awoke. She tightened her hug.

"I want you to think of all the good times."

She remained quiet, but that rekindled fire kept her with me.

"Even when things seem to get worse, I want you to think of all those good times we had-and we had tons."

"…I just wish the last conversation I had with him wasn't an argument."

I felt that even in my heart.

What could be said after something like that?

I'm sorry?

That wasn't enough…

I gave her all I knew to give, affection, a comforted mind that we were there. I kissed atop her warm flaming crown and gave her an even greater hug. "We love you, Gin."

The atmosphere in the kitchen fell to a hush with us standing there.

My eyes peered out the window, at the freezing rain splashing against the panes, and that of the gray clouds smothering the city.

"…Where is Sleeping Beauty at this morning, anyway?"

Gin broke me from the trance.

I made a laugh. "She's still sleeping. I tried arousing her this morning to no avail."

"Just this morning?" Gin leaned from our hug to wink at me.

My eyes went wide and all I could do was laugh again.

***

I gasped.

Crookshanks's eyes blinked open, the two little black spheres peering back at me nonchalantly. So, much like a cat who had claimed his owner. The furry orange ball lay at Hermione's bosom. On her side nearly in the similar position I had left her watching me leave through the bedroom door, Crookshanks had evidently take refuge, home, between that of my Love's arm and my Love's chest. She had an arm around him almost as if a stuffed animal, and I did a sigh at how just adorable she was with her kitty all wrapped up in the white sheets.

He meowed at me, and I scoffed.

That was probably his way of laughing!

I grinned, lightly wandering in on tiptoe to set a tray of breakfast foods down on the side-table. Some fruit yogurt, an apple bran muffin, two eggs and orange juice rattle on their respective plates when placed. I kept my eye on her, and the furball, ever-so-slightly flicking his tail to and fro. He kept his beady eyes on me and didn't move a centimetre when I went to bend over and kiss lovingly inside Hermione's warmth of brown curls. I smelled of her vanilla scent and caressed her again.

At her cheek, and then her throat, I had movement. I heard her first, a "Mm…", and then her stretches beneath the covers.

She smiled up at me through a yawn.

I stole a kiss after, having her "Mmm…" again.

"Good morning, beautiful," I said to those dazzling cinnamon reflections. "I've got breakfast for you."

I motioned with a nod over behind me.

She sighed in her smile and breathed that long, drawn first morning's breath. "What time is it?" she asked, rolling to her back to further peek at the clock behind her. With her arm above her that moment, Crookshanks took liberty to place his paws on Hermione's chest, disturbed by the vacant attention.

I watched him and shook my head, seeing Hermione gaze back at me and then at her kitty. "I think he wants mummy."

"I think he wants too much of mummy…," He'd begun to get a little too antsy in his ways, and Hermione to order him off when a nudge. "Down Crookshanks, down. Those are for daddy, not for you."

I chuckled, seeing Crookshanks tilt his head to the side and meow at mummy.

"Here," I reached out and retrieved the orange of which perched atop Hermione. Looking down at him in my arms I told him, acting paternal, "I've got to show you a thing or two about girls."

He just blinked up at me and meowed.

Hermione put her hand on her forehead and laughed, running her fingers through the fringe of her mahogany tassels and back. She breathed another incredible inhale, watching me and her beloved kitty discuss "male issues".

"What is it about my two men and my breasts?" she snickered.

"Correction," I began with a finger up, professorially. I went to sit on the bed's edge aside Hermione and glanced down at her, the sheets fit to her form underneath, her lovely white porcelain skin. I caressed her lips before ending with, "I love from the bottom of your feet to the tip-top of your head."

"I do wish I could make up time when I should've loved you."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her hand at my cheek and her deep pools of cinnamon examining me.

"When I left you, and when I was absent all those years," I took her hand, letting go of the fidgeting Crookshanks in my lap. He leapt to Hermione's side and sat himself down, observing us from his angle.

"Vividly I remember the times in school when you wrought with turmoil, shed your tears, and withdrew after the War. I wish the moment when all that happened I wouldn't have been such a pathetic git; but, to have loved you like you should've been. Like the gorgeous woman you are. I was a prat-"

"We've discussed this, love."

"I know," I caressed her hand. "But in the end I felt it such a waste when I could've shown you a much better world than what you were given-a world I hope I've given you since."

She sat up, and within that inch or two from my face all she did was watch me, watch those jade-green orbs of mine study her. She took my cheek and guided me to her, to her lips where I met her tenderness. "I'm so happy, Harry," she stated throughout our one caress, our heads turning, exchanging sides from one another's.

When her lips left mine she leaned into me and wrapped her arms around me. She looked away from me but for a moment to see Crookshanks having climbed into her lap, into the caverns of sheets. "Such a naughty kitty," she smiled.

I glanced downwards, too, and added, "Such a voyeuristic kitty."

Hermione looked back at me in her smile.

"He certainly enjoys watching his mummy get pleased," I quipped, my sight set back on Hermione. "Should've seen him nested atop your vanity last night. I don't think he ever took his eyes from us."

"Crookshanks!" Hermione playfully gasped. She pointed at him and wagged her finger. "Naughty kitty!"

He meowed and merely swished his tail.

"Thank goodness he's neutered," she jested, falling into me, into the crook of my neck where she caressed me.

I laughed, leading her lightly by her jaw to my mouth where I kissed her. I gazed longingly into her eyes. "I love you, and I only wish to give you the happiness you deserve. Which is why I cannot wait for our honeymoon; our excuse to escape this madness and for me to whisk you away to a destination only me and you know. Where we can't be bothered. Where we can-"

"Get away from my peeping tom cat," she interjected with humor, a smirk.

I chuckled into another kiss, absorbing her fruitfully and with passion. I led my hand from her throat, down her chest, between her breast, and had it rest on her stomach.

"Breakfast is getting cold."

"It smells wonderful," she smiled, taking a glimpse around me.

"Gin's waiting downstairs for our journey this morning."

"Mm…," Hermione bit her bottom lip and looked back at me. "Guess it's about time to eat, eh?"

I nodded, lifting up to take the tray and set it back down and over her lap. Crookshanks had to be moved to his dismay, traveling back around Hermione where he could and lay between her and the pillow.

After another kiss, and after seeing her remove the fork and spoon from the napkin I had wrapped the utensils in, did I set course from the wardrobe after her things. "So, what are we wearing today?"

I pulled back the double-doors.

"Harry," she exclaimed whilst I did.

I glanced back. "Hm?"

"I remember everything," she began. "I remember our first conversation, our last conversation; I remember the first time we touched however innocently it was: I remember the first time we held hands, the first time we hugged, the first time we kissed, the first time we made love; I remember the moment you told me you loved me, and every time after that; I remember when you've stood up for me, going all the way back to Hogwarts; I remember relishing in each and every one of your victories at Quidditch even if I hadn't the foggiest idea about the game in the beginning; I remember our long nights in the Gryffindor tower, talking until we fell asleep; I remember when you knelt down on the Hogwarts Express platform and asked me for my hand in marriage."

"I remember everything, Harry; and I love the warmth of your heart, the caring nature of your soul, and the excitement I have in knowing I will be your wife one day soon."

"I'll never forget," she ended.

Placing my hand over my heart, I felt light, light-headed, absolutely in love with Hermione.

I took off from her wardrobe and dropped back down to her height. I looked at her before I kissed her, her lips parting to say, "I just thought you'd like to know".

And then I did.

I kissed her and never let her go.

***

As I looked away from the moving photograph of us did my hand lower to place the bronzed frame back on the hearth, and my other lower, too, with a carried letter. My attention went towards the sound, and then the movement of my lover stepping the last few steps of the stairs. She held in her hands something which caught my eye, the material flimsy, unyielding when she walked. The material would move about where her hands and arms hadn't caught it; but, in those seconds, too, did I welcome back her big, beautiful brown eyes. Soft she was in the firelight, embraced in her dark, satin sleep shirt. Her legs gave way to the orange hue, her white porcelain, perfect legs shuffling to me.

Getting closer, I figured out the misshapen objects were…

"What's this?" I cocked a brow, watching her as I did flip that one piece of hair back. Reaching out, I capture the strands betwixt my fingers and placed it behind her nearest ear. She grinned at my care, slowly slipping the threads back to behold my beauty in all her lovely glory.

"I feel the need to get rid of these." She held up the layers upon layers of cloth. She tilted her head before adding, "Well, not necessarily rid them, but give them away. Maybe to charity?"

All of her extra-large, extra-baggy trousers-those I had remembered Hermione wearing day-in-and-day-out those first few months we courted.

Quizzically, I asked, "These have been with you now for a while-why the sudden change of heart?"

"Back then I felt the need to hide myself," She replied confidently. She shook her head. With a smile, she said after a beat, the house absorbing the sounds of the crackling, warm fire, "I'm not that way anymore. I'm not that Hermione Granger-afraid-afraid of myself, my own reflection. I'm Hermione Granger-"

She paused to catch a glimpse of my grin. "The lover, the loved, the fixed. I'm whole-and you helped me-standing always at my side, picking me up when I fell, and embracing all my faults-even the more troublesome ones."

Sliding my hands, my arms beneath the neatly folded trousers, I assisted her with the weight of them whilst stepping closer, inching to her lips where we matched together. I left her with a smile, accepting the trousers at my chest and took them around the sofa to be taken out, to be given maybe to a new home. I watched her watch me, the fireplace her background, her gorgeous outline emanating her wonderful features. The curves I affectionately felt when I went back to my lover I squeezed before leading her with a hand hearthside. Picking up the bronzed frame of us, I showed her what I'd been staring at while she put Ginny to bed. We all had had a day of packing and unpacking, and of us three Ginny was the tuckered one-physically as well as emotionally.

My beloved ran her fingers through her hair and made a tiny laugh through her nose after she'd plucked the frame, taking it to herself and her smile. She looked up. "Hogwarts," she exclaimed. "First year."

"Our first picture together-just us."

She glanced back down at the small photo, of two, innocent, rambunctious kids playing for the camera. "We're absolutely wet."

"It rained just before, remember?"

She looked back up at me and smiled, her eyes settling to the photo again.

"It's been quite the journey," she expressed almost breathlessly. She put a hand to her forehead, and then shook her head with that smile still across her lips.

I knew, like me, a film reel of Hermione and Harry throughout the years presented in her mind. All the events, all our events, fell like dominoes with one mental image replacing another in succession. I smiled when she just stared in amazement, knowing we'd come this far, but the unbelievable becoming believable when the obvious landed in front of you.

"It has," Echoing her, she glanced to see my smile close to hers. I kissed her, and she fell into me, wrapping her arms around me snugly.

We stood like this, my strong arms holding her tight and Hermione, her cheek at my shoulder held softly me, too, in embrace.

"I love you, Hermione."

I could feel her heartbeat, and knew she'd skipped one when she gazed that short distance up into my eyes. I could see the white twinkles, and the mirror of light she produced. A sheen from water built up, and she sniffed, laughing some when a tear trickled down her cheek.

"I love you, Harry…"

Wiping the tear streak with the lightest, slightest of touches, I lifted her chin and tilted to her. Our lips melded as one, our noses meshing, too. We caressed in smile, Hermione reaching up and around me as she stood a bit on tiptoe. Her arms about my neck, I had easy access to sweep her off her feet-and did. In my arms she giggled to my grin, carrying her warm form over to the sofa, and the waiting Gryffindor quilt. She quickly huddled to me and threw the quilt about us, paying close attention to the letter of which still kept in my hand.

I noted her curiosity and gave the letter to her. Her eyes went to the parchment, uncurling the off-white colour to see the Ministry seal stamped at the end as well as Draco Malfoy's personal signature. "They've exchanged your gold into pounds…," she read the writings aloud. "And mine."

"I guess we really are Muggles now." I made a laugh, gathering her sight a moment and her smile before she went back to read and reread every, last morsel of information.

"Hey…," Noticing when she put her fingers to her lips, her nails, the signs and symptoms of anxiety crossing her furrowed brow did I speak up. She looked at me, and as she did I pulled the parchment away. I let it drop to the wooden floor beneath. My hands on her, I took Hermione with me as I lay down.

"Changes…" The firelight danced in her eyes while she gazed into me.

"Positive changes."

I smiled.

She stayed looking into my eyes those few seconds before lowering her cheek down to my chest.

She smiled, too, and nodded, grasping the shirt I still wore.

***

Interrogation Chamber 11, Deep within the Ministry of Magic

"She hasn't spoken since requesting my services?" Draco's words fell acrimoniously as he observed Rita. Curiously, her appearance didn't reflect one that was on-the-run nor did it reflect one who had just lost her kingdom. Nevertheless, the neatness of her Muggle-civilian clothes, her hair, the little bit of make-up unlike her could not outshine how her body language shown withdrawal. Hunched over the table she sat at, she had her hands, her palms on her wrinkled forehead, her fingers within the fringe of her curled, platinum blonde hair. He couldn't exactly see her face through her hands even through the transparent, aqua-esque magical bubble she'd been put in.

A few Aurors stood around her with Kingsley at the head of the table, and his scribe, Gregory, jotting down notes as Kingsley would offer his words. Noncompliant the slightest, Rita stayed still in the same wrought position in her chair.

The Auror Draco spoke to merely shook his head, looking within the room and behind the one-way mirror. "Not even alohamora could unhinge that mind."

The Auror glanced back at Draco tilted on his cane. "She mentioned you, and nothing else."

"She looks curiously kept for an outlaw even after freezing her Gringott's accounts."

"Shall we perform veritaserum?"

Draco's head flicked to the Auror's suggestion. "We'd be nothing but our predescessors."

Draco moved forward, pressing beyond the Auror, heading towards the door to the Interrogation Chamber. He looked back at the Auror. The Auror had turned to meet Malfoy's swift movement, even through hobbling on his cane. "Make careful note of that," the interim Minister firmly stated. He placed his gloved hand around the door's knob and instantly the echo of the door unlocking reverberated throughout the conference area they stood in.

The Auror nodded, "Understood."

He gave the salute, placing his fist to his white, tunic-clad chest.

Draco entered into the room just as Kingsley asked:

"We just would like to know where you've been hiding, Rita."

It was like she knew he had entered. Rita pried her clutched hands from her forehead slowly at first, but then her entire personality alit-or what was left-a simple, trembled half-smile pausing to melt away. She mouthed his name in that second, her shamrock-green eyes following his slight movements. Draco first looked at Kingsley, his hands on the table, glance at his entrance, and then gave a nod to the Auror team within that they were dismissed.

Kingsley stood up aside Gregory, pushing from the table, as the Aurors filed out of the room.

With the last Auror having shut closed the door, and the various sets of latches locking behind him, Draco's gaze stripped away from Rita's staring face to Kingsley's.

"Anything?" He began the removal of his black leather gloves, setting them in his Ministry-emblazoned coat pocket.

Kingsley shook his head in dismay. "She won't speak for us."

"Rita," Draco's eyes flitted back to her, his speech authoritarian. He tilted his weight back on his cane. "Why are you here? Why did you come where you very well knew we'd arrest you for all your wrong-doings?"

"I wish only to speak to you, Draco." Her words, albeit soft, came to the startled surprise of Kingsley and Gregory who immediately shifted their look back at the speckless woman. The lights from the room shone off her glasses when she sat back in her chair, hands folded now in her lap.

"Kingsley," Draco nodded similarly like before. "I'll take things from here."

"Are you sure?"

Draco's sight resumed on Rita when he nodded once more. "And please take down the barrier. She isn't threatening."

Gregory shot a glance at Kingsley's silent watch, and then to his superior's wand flourish. From his plum robes, he countered his own magic, the bubble shifting in-and-out of existence before subsiding. Gregory marched off in his own set of Ministry robes, followed by Kingsley who patted Draco's back when he crossed behind.

Draco knew Kingsley would be watching and listening, as he did when he closed the door, standing behind the charmed one-way mirror.

Alone, now, with Rita, Draco pulled the lone chair on the other side of the table and sat down. He took careful precautions with his leg as he did, giving an exhausted huff per the late hour.

They sat in silence together for a moment before Draco dissolved the thick quiet between them.

"Why did you come back, Rita?" Draco sized her up from the other side of the room. In the Chamber his firm voice echoed.

Rita fell back almost instantly in her slump. "Because..."

"Because you suddenly have a heart of gold? Thought, maybe, repenting for your sins would save you from the Hell that will ultimately be unleashed?" Draco leaned forward, his voice lessening to be poignant. "Do you know how many people died, Rita? Do you know how many people now grieve and are in mourning of their loved ones? Do you understand the severity of assisting Death Eaters and your punishment?"

Rita's hands went to her face where she clawed with her nails. Her eyes grew and she, for whatever reason, couldn't look Draco in the eyes. Exasperated, she said, "I have nothing left of me, Draco. I have nothing-they took it all away."

"I wouldn't have come after you."

Rita's eyes flicked to Draco, tears having welled themselves in her vision. Whites danced on the surfaces of her miniature puddles.

"If you would have stayed away and hid wherever you were hiding," Draco sighed tiredly. "I wouldn't have come after you."

"Why?" Rita's question came out in a high-pitched squeak.

"Because," Draco began, looking from the table and back to Rita. He folded his hands together. "I know they killed your family. I know they killed Zoe, Rita, and I know how much you loved her even if you would tear into her through the Prophet."

"I did so to protect them…" Warm teardrops smeared what little mascara clung beneath Rita's eyes. "I did so because I had no other choice. They dangled her like a carrot-Sarilda-she showed me how close she could get to her and that-that-"

Draco raised a hand.

All that could be heard was the gentle weep from Rita in their quiet pause.

Draco went from his hands rolling the silvered cane-handle in his lap and back to Rita. "Where have you been, Rita? Have you been with them-Death Eaters?"

Rita began shaking her head to and fro hastily before Draco could even finish.

"Come clean with me, Rita; don't lie to me."

"…S-Shell Cottage," Rita had began a stutter amongst her head-shaking.

Draco straightened himself upright the moment her heard her, an eyebrow rising.

"Shell Cottage?" He offered her another chance to come forthright. "…Did I hear you correctly?"

She shook her head in confirmation.

"…Bill and Fleur Weasley have been taking care of you?" Surprise had hit him, his words in near-shock.

"They have-," and she suddenly felt as if she'd given the most important secret in the world away, backtracking and asking Draco, "Please! I don't know why they did it-I don't-but they were afraid if they said anything, anything at all, you'd come after-"

"They must've seen something in you," Draco shushed her. He remained on subject, but asked her, "And, just how did you end up going there? It's not like it's downtown London. Not everyone knows that tiny island's there."

Rita's lips pursed tightly.

"Rita…," Draco began to get unnerved. "The only way I can trust you is if you help me help you. You have to help me here."

Rita, in whispers, answered after another long pause, "…Miss Granger…"

"And, I don't know why she did it!" yelled Rita. "She did it-and Bill and Fleur Weasley offered me asylum-and I don't know why! I was such a cruel, evil speck-of-a-person. I hadn't a soul left, given it away to the Devil-and I don't know why anyone cared a bit about me! I should've died there at Prophet Media, I should have!"

"I should've died with my family!!!" Rita screamed again, tears now streaming down her blackened-stained cheeks. "I don't deserve the kind hearts of others! I deserve nothing! None at all!"

Draco just shook his head, realizing that maybe…

He reached into his coat pocket among her gradual fit of rage on the other side and plucked his personal handkerchief from his inside pocket. Black silk, the letter "M" was embroidered on the corner in gold stitch. He stood up, and when he did heard Rita mute. He watched her as he walked around the table from the left pull herself into the table, arms and hands clutching her head.

"Get it over with, Draco! Get it over with!" she pleaded.

"Rita."

"Do what needs to be done!" she demanded in her rage.

Draco gritted his teeth, grabbed Rita's shoulder and pushed her back into the chair. In the right mess he thought she'd be in, hair, face, and clothes in disarray, he watched her, again, watch him behind tears. She trembled, and was obviously in a wreck, having lost everyone but herself.

"Here," Draco offered his handkerchief. He leaned into her chair with a hand atop the backside after she'd reluctantly plucked it from his grasp. She dabbed her eyes clean and blew her running nose.

"Get it together," he watched her begin another weep into the handkerchief.

She shook her head, hidden behind the black, shiny silk. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry for everything. You don't know how much all of this has eaten at me in these days since… With such outpouring of charity from those I once wished to destroy… And, to lose Zoe like that when she was all I wanted to protect…"

"You have to help us, Rita."

Rita glanced from behind the silk and upwards at Draco standing tall.

"Anything," she said, centred in her remorse. She shook her head. "Anything at all, I'll do."

"What do you know of the rest-the Death Eaters-where are they hiding, how many, their targets-"

"I'll do my very best to remember and give you anything I've gathered over the years."

Draco nodded. "Gather yourself up, and come along with me."

"Where are we going?" Rita muffled behind the handkerchief as she wiped her eyes.

"To my office so we may talk in a proper atmosphere," He noticed how Rita glanced at him through the handkerchief when he said that. He put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a pat.

"You're safe here with me, Rita. I only ask for your full support in return, and then maybe we can turn this whole nightmare around together-as a team rather than enemies."

"The People will hate me-they hate me."

"We-I-will personally have your support."

She blew her nose, the snort the only noise in their silence, before looking back up through her mascara-smeared face. "Thank you, Draco," she said softly. "I'll pay back hundred-fold for everything I've done in my past."

From behind the one-way glass, Kingsley put his hands together and gave Malfoy secretive applause. "There is the boy I mentored turning into a man, a true, just Minister, before my very eyes."

"Your father would be proud, Draco." Kingsley ended.

***

{Author's Note: hopefully that sated enough HHr for now. Life is going about a hundred miles per hour on my end. I hope to get back to a normal pacing for chapters sooner-or-later! Happy Thanksgiving!}

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