Rating: R
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 26/06/2010
Last Updated: 22/11/2010
Status: In Progress
Actions have consequences, even if you're not aware of them. Harry saved Hermione's life their first year at Hogwarts. Now she has returned the favor and has no reason to stay by his side, or does she? Happy Ending. Now with a 2nd chapter. R Bashing ahead.
Balancing Debts – A Debt Repaid
A/N: Meant to do some writing on my other unfinished pieces, but this falls' Deathly Hallows film started to depress me. A plot bunny got stuck in my head and forced me to write this story. Ostensibly, this takes place in the 7th book, right after Harry and Hermione leave Godric's Hollow, the scene where they get ambushed by Nagini. In reality, I can't remember all the details from the book and don't want to look for a copy so just assume Hermione saved Harry's life sometime during the last book. Shouldn't be too hard to imagine.
Special thanks to blueneck666 and Robinjlsher. Without them, this story would have no title.
<::::}]Start[{::::>
“Thanks, Hermione. You really saved my life.” The exhaustion and relief was evident as Harry leaned back on the large oak. Hermione held him in a loose, half-embrace to his side.
Her concerned jaw slackened and her eyes shot wide as her pupils dilated. “Saved your…” she said in a whisper.
“Hermione, what’s wro…” but Harry wasn’t able to finish his question as she quickly leaned forward; her lips firmly crushing his own. It was the most passionate kiss he had ever experienced bar none. When her tongue started probing for entry, he gladly obliged and as one they met on the field of battle – and it was good.
Finally, after one of the most perfect snogs in history came to an end, both gasping for breath, chests heaving, and fiery desire in both their gazes, Hermione spoke.
“Harry James Potter, I’ve loved you since you were eleven. Will you marry me?”
Harry sat frozen on the ground. Hermione had come to straddle his waist sometime during mid-snog and his arms were wrapped possessively around the small of her back. His brain had seized up and it took Hermione untangling an arm from around his neck and lightly brushing a thumb across his forehead while calling his name to bring him back to himself. “Marry? Bu-b-but… I thought… best friends, you- me, what about Ron?” Panic was on face.
She began to laugh. Not just a chuckle, but a hearty, throw your head back, eyes tearing laugh. Harry had no idea what was going on but could only let his neck bend as Hermione pulled his head forward, pushing it into her bosom and wrapping her arms around his head. She nuzzled the top of his coal black hair and muttered, “You dear, sweet, clueless male.”
Her embrace was warm and she despite being on the run, she smelled amazing. “Huh!?” was all Harry could think to say.
Hermione pulled back slightly so she could look Harry in the face. “Do you know how close I came to being saddled with that backstabbing toe-rag, how much it hurt to not only have to watch that red-headed hussy sink her claws into you have but to have to cheer her on as well?”
Her eyes were so serious and her lower lip quivered as she struggled to explain. “I’ve been through hell for the past three years and I promised myself if I ever got the chance, I would ask you to marry me. I’ve been waiting a long time Harry.” She wrapped him in a hug, one that would put all previous hugs she’d ever given to shame.
His arms tightened around her and she spoke softly into his ear. “Please don’t make me wait any longer for an answer.”
He held her tighter still and rested his chin on her shoulder. He breathed deeply. Her scent filled him with hope and courage and a smoldering desire in the middle of his chest flared up and began to ache at the thought of NOT being with her. To never hold her like this, to never kiss her again… “My God, Hermione” he gasped. Horror was in his voice as he nuzzled her cheek with his own.
“One word, Harry. One little word and we can be together forever.” She said with hope in her voice.
Mustering all his courage, Harry answered. “I can’t. I can’t marry you, not like this.”
As the word “can’t” passed his lips, it was Hermione’s turn to freeze. Tears that she’d been trying to hold back while waiting for his answer suddenly loosed themselves from her eyes. She released her hug and began to sob.
“Not fair. Not FAIR. NOT - BLOODY - FAIR!” She began to warm up to a screaming fit in between crying jags. “Just because the entire fucking world seems to believe Ron would be perfect for me and that you and Ginny are the second coming of Lily and James doesn’t mean it has to be that way. Hell, I know you love me and you damn well better know that I love you” to punctuate that statement she reached out and grabbed the bulge between his legs. “You hear me Harry? THIS is MINE!”
He nodded his head rapidly.
“So what the HELL, Harry? I mean, honestly, what the Hell? What changed, Harry? I’ve been stuck under a life debt for 7 bloody long years and I finally, FINALLY am able to ask you to be mine, which should have happened fourth year or even after we saved Sirius, but NO. You just had to feel sorry for that walking garbage disposal and you forced me act interested in him. You hear me, Potter? I have been a prisoner in my own head for years because YOU believed the delusional idiocy of Mrs. Weasley and her brood.
“Wah… Hermione. I never, I mean I didn’t know. I never thought…”
“And that’s just it! You never thought to ask. Did you think to ask me my feelings before you just up and decided that Ron should have me? Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe I was actually interested in someone with green eyes that wasn’t inbred up the arse?”
“Hermione… I had no idea. I didn’t know you were under a life debt. Who did it? Was it Ron?” Harry was getting frantic now. In an emphatic and serious tone he asked, “Did Ron hurt you?” and he stared into her tear stained eyes as he watched her reaction.”
“Hah! You haven’t figured it out yet? You want to know who I owed the life debt to. Who was the one who was forcing me into a horrible, loveless life of stay-at-home motherhood, to mediocrity, to shitty sex and verbal abuse?” The closest thing to a sneer Harry had ever seen on her angry but beautiful face graced it now and he could feel the pressure buffet him from her angry magic. “You have the nerve to ask me that, Harry James Potter?” Her brown eyes were flashing with anger.
The way she said his full name now was a world apart from the way she had said it earlier. He bit his lower lip in unconscious imitation of how Hermione usually looked when she was solving a problem.
“It was me, wasn’t it?” You owed the life debt to me. Earlier, you said seven years you’d been under the life debt. That would correspond to the time in the girls’ lavatory with the troll. Seven years, Hermione? Oh God.”
“Yes, you prat” she said huffily. After you saved me, I naively swore to pay you back for saving me. I had no idea that anything like a wizard’s debt even existed. And of course, with my luck, I phrased it in the worse possible way. Basically, I swore to protect you like you protected me, to put your wishes ahead of my own, and to look out for your best interests. I didn’t even realize it was a magically binding promise until forth year. That’s one of the reasons I was in the library so much during the tournament. I was researching what I’d gotten myself into. For the most part, it wasn’t bad; I would have helped you anyway. You needed a friend who would never betray you, you got her; you want someone to follow you into a certain death trap at the DoM, here she is; you subconsciously feel sorry for that Red-headed wanker and need a girl for him, that was when my life in Hell began.
“Did he – I mean, did he ever?”
“No! No, though not from his lack of trying. I had to use extraordinary measures to keep him away from me. All I can say is that I’m glad you never explicitly said I had to be with him. That, and the fact that I could rationalize that you needed me more than anyone else and that plus I was able to use my feelings for you to override any compulsions from my Wizard’s debt. But it’s been tough going, Harry. Three very long and hellish years and I have been so close to giving up; to letting myself go, only to find out that you don’t love me... I wish I were dead.”
“Don’t EVER say that!” Harry had grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her to a sitting position so he could look her in the face. Her eyes, when she said those awful words, had seemed dull like a woman with nothing left to live for, but now as he carefully held her hands between his own, those same eyes began to flicker with a faint glimmer of hope.
“Before today, I couldn’t imagine not having you in my life. Now, I refuse to even consider not sharing the rest of my life with you. You’ve been my best and most faithful friend since I was eleven and I have been incredibly blind and a monumental idiot with relationships up till now.”
With each word, her spirits seemed to lift; the light in her eyes seemed to intensify. “Because of me, you’ve had to suffer horribly these past three years and for my sake you’ve risked your life again and again…”
“And nearly gotten expelled…” added Hermione with a wry little smile.
“AND nearly gotten expelled,” he agreed. “The point I’m trying to make is that I DO know you love me and I… I’m not sure I really know what love is, but I do know that I care for you. I mean I really, really care about what happens to you…” His eyes lost focus as he struggled with the words. “When you were petrified by the basilisk, I nearly went crazy with worry. The same with the dementors and in the Department of Mysteries, if something had happened to you… I don’t know what I would have done. Hermione, the way I care about you, the way I feel for you is different than the way I care or feel for anyone else. I want to keep you safe, help you succeed, and make you happy. I know I love you and I think… I think I might be in love with you as well. Is that alright?”
There was a sad smile on her face. “Quite all right, Harry. But you still won’t marry me, will you?”
At that, Harry went on one knee. “Hermione Jane Granger, there is no one who I would rather spend the rest of eternity with. Would you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Hermione Potter?”
A “No, I don’t think so” and a wan smile was her only reply.
“B-bu-but why?” Harry was understandably confused.
“Three reasons. One, it hurt when you turned down my proposal and I wanted you to know how it felt; two, I want to have a ring on my finger the day I get engaged and I’m positive you’re not prepared; three, I’m a liberated woman I don’t need a man to propose to me when I’m capable of proposing myself; four…”
“You said there were only three reasons.”
“No, I said I had three reasons. The fourth one just came to me, so hush. ” Her finger buttoned his lips.
“Reason four, I still love you above everyone else, I have my grandparents’ rings right here, and I asked first. Won’t you reconsider?”
Harry started to chuckle.
Hermione went in for the kill. “Please?”
“Yes, Miss Granger. I will marry you if you’ll have me.” He said with great solemnity.
The smile on Hermione’s face was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen.
She leaned in close to slip the ring on his finger and throatily whispered. “Don’t worry. I intend to have you again and again and again until you pass out.” She licked his ear and he very nearly did right then and there.
Balancing Debts: Chapter 2
A/N Succinct version: Hated Jo's ending, my Hermione's middle name is Jane, dislike several Weasleys, and Harry and Hermione are fated in my opinion.
A/N: Once again, the Deathly Hallows film’s imminent release has started to depress me. I had originally considered Balancing Debts complete, but someone in a review asked for what happened when they met up with Ron. Somehow I ended up writing this. I started with the line, “I’m not yours” and the rest built up around it. Ostensibly, this takes place in the 7th book, not long after the events of Chapter 1. Harry and Hermione are already together and Hermione misses Ron not one bit, so she was available to help Harry retrieve the sword of Gryffindor. I don’t remember all the details from the book and don't want to look for a copy so I may have some Canon inaccuracies – such is life. Politely point out any other mistakes, please.
XXXOOOXXX
Ron stuck his head through the flap of the tent. He had thought to let Herms stew in her lovesick way a while longer, but his mum had a point. Leaving two teens alone in a tent, especially two teens that were naturally complementary and secretly fancied one another (of that he was sure) was a recipe for failure for their One Big Happy Weasley Family. Plus, Ginny would kill him if Harry got away when it was Ron’s job to make sure that didn’t happen.
He looked around the room and spotted Hermione puttering about in the kitchen. He admired her backside with a lecherous leer. She had certainly come a long way from the boorish bookworm, with awful hair and humungous teeth. Well, she was still a bookworm, but she was much easier on the eye. He didn’t love her, but ever since she had been petrified, he got the feeling that Harry and Hermione had gotten closer, more in sync. Naturally, he was jealous as Harry always seemed to get everything, but not this time.
Harry Potter, prince of the wizarding world, fantastically wealthy, so handsome that every girl at Hogwarts had a poster or picture of him near their bed. Of course Ron was jealous, putting up with hand-me-down robes, books and even a wand, how could he not be. Sure Potter had ratty muggle clothes, but he had heard from Bill how large the Potter account was. Once Ginny had Harry, Ron could use the Potter fortune to buy everything he ever wanted, and Hermione could spend the rest of her productive years bringing more Weasleys into the world. He smiled at the thought of Hermione, hugely pregnant and using all her vaunted smarts to cook his meals, rub his feet, and wash and iron his clothes. Emboldened by the image of her meekly submitting to him, he strode confidently toward the kitchenette.
“Back so soon?” queried Hermione without turning to face the red-headed deserter. “Harry and I wondered whether you’d work up the nerve to come back; though, I still maintain you didn’t do it willingly.
Ignoring the fact that Hermione had even spoken, Ron strode right up to her and with a large patronizing smile loudly said, “I came back to get you, Herms. Where’s Harry? I want to let him know that you won’t be coming back.” He smiled in a slimy Slytherin sort of way.
She turned to face him, her face appearing stern and annoyed. “And what, exactly, do you mean by that, Ron? I’m not going anywhere without Harry.” She stated with the same certainty that one would state that water is wet.
Ignoring her once again he glanced around, and then he blithered on. “So Harry finally ran out on you too, huh? Figures - never could depend on him to back a bloke up, let alone some girl.
At that, Hermione well and truly bristled. “Ran out on me? Ran out on me!” she was furious. “If anyone can be accused of running out on his friends, it would be you, Ron Weasley. Twice you’ve deserted Harry, two bloody times! Harry would NEVER run out on me, which is more than I can say about SOME people. And if you think I’m going anywhere with you, then you have another think coming to you.” She crossed her arms and scowled at the moRon in front of her with delusions of adequacy.
“Now Herms,” he started in a placating tone he copied from Dumbledore, but he chose a rather bad time to try and use a nickname for Hermione.
“Don’t you ‘Herms’ me! My name is Hermione Jane Granger! Hermione to my friends… does that include you?
Ignoring her question, he wondered aloud, “Jane?”
Blowing a strand of hair away from her eyes, she answered, clearly perturbed. “I evidently smudged my name when signing up for my O.W.L.s and it snowballed until almost everyone thinks my middle name is Jean.” She said in a grumpy tone.
“Heh, I like it. Now I know something Harry doesn’t,” he gloated.
“Hardly, Harry asked me my middle name first year. In fact, the day we got our O.W.L. results, after you’d left the room, he asked me why the parchment said Jean.” She smirked. “Nobody knows me better than Harry.”
“Come off it, Herms. You know you want to be with me. If I’d stuck around the tent just a little bit longer, you know you’d have come with me.”
“Like Hell! In a choice between you and Harry, well, there really is no contest. I’ll choose Harry EVERY time. No question.” She looked so very resolute that it was beginning to piss Ron off.
“I could see the indecision in your eyes, the longing. I know you wanted to choose me. You’re mine; you just haven’t realized it yet…” A cruel smile wore smugly upon his face. Victory and violence flashed behind his yes and he reached for her hand as if to grab her and pull her to him. She stepped back out a reach.
“But I’m not yours, Ron.”
“Oh yes you are. I chose you. Now be a good girl and come with me”
Anger was shimmering in her eyes.
“You can’t own me, Ron Weasley.”
“Not the slavery and S.P.E.W. routine again!”
She smirked evilly. “Not at all. The reason you can’t own me is because I’m spoken for. I belong to him,” and she pointed a finger over his shoulder.
Ron Weasley whirled around to face his adversary only to find no one there. He spun back around to impress upon Hermione that he did not appreciate being made a fool of. Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to glance behind and saw Harry’s head floating in mid-air. He looked furious.
Harry clocked Ron in the jaw with a right cross and Ron’s world exploded into stars.
Clutching his face, Ron staggered forward and bumped into Hermione.
Focusing all her anger and resentment, from the ridicule and verbal abuse she had suffered, Hermione drove her knee into Ron’s bollocks. He literally rose up off the ground from the force of the blow, and suddenly, the pain in his jaw seemed inconsequential when compared to the waves of pain radiating from his abused tackle. Amazed that he was still standing, Hermione leaned in close and in a fairly seductive voice loudly asked, “Was it as good for you as it was for me?” She followed up with another quick knee shot to the family jewels. A sickening squishing sound followed and the redhead fell to the ground bawling like a baby with tears leaking from his eyes.
Hermione stepped over the pitiful excuse for a man and walked into her man’s open arms. He wrapped them both up in the invisibility cloak and the both started to move away, but Hermione halted their exit just before they reached the door. She yelled from the open doorway, “Enjoy it, Ron. That’s as close as you’re EVER going to get to me willingly touching you.”
Lying on the floor in a fetal position clutching his smashed equipment, he seethed in anger. This uppity little mudblood dared to lay hands on a pureblood like him. That Harry would betray him was pushed to the background as he focused his anger toward Hermione. She had been so easy to manipulate last year, and now it was almost as if she were her bitchy, third-year self again. Angry lines appeared on his face as he mercifully slipped into unconsciousness.
Hours later, Ron awoke in the clearing minus the tent; his wand laying snapped nearby. His ruined bollocks ached, and every little movement sent further daggers of pain shooting through him. He scowled as he looked around the wooded area until his eyes fell upon a piece of parchment close by that was held down by large piece of stone.
To the Idiot Known as Ron:
Harry and I have mutually decided to continue on our quest without you as we have come to the conclusion that you eat too much, don’t contribute anything and quite frankly slow us down. Also, your behavior both past and present has thrown considerable doubt on your trustworthiness and we feel that the task ahead of us cannot even be considered unless all involved give 100% toward reaching the goal. I understand that you may not even know what we are referring to as you spent most of our planning and research time reading about quidditch, but rest assured that if we run into any giant chess sets we will strongly consider asking for your help once more.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Hermione Jane(sic) Potter and Mr. Harry James Potter
P.S. Come near my wife again and I will make the rollicking she gave your bollocks seem like love taps in comparison.
Signed,
Harry Potter: Hermione’s Husband, He Who Takes on Trolls Barehanded, Fights Giant Basilisks with Only a Sword AND Wins, and the only known man to face snake face 5 times and live to tell about it.
XXXOOOXXX
Please read and review as that helps fuel the creative process.
Special thanks to NuitTombee and Ralph S. and the good folks on the Seel’vor’s House of Fanfiction group.
A/N Succinct version: Hated Jo's ending, my Hermione's middle name is Jane, dislike several Weasleys, and Harry and Hermione are fated in my opinion.
A/N: Wanted to get something in the Spirit of Harmony out for the Deathly Hallows film’s recent release. I originally had nothing ready, but I put this together one Sunday. The story is set in a modified version of Book 7 and the action takes place in chapter 2 of my story, and covers what happens between the time that Ron was rendered unconscious and when he wakes up in the forest. I don’t remember all the details from the book and don't want to look for a copy so I may have some Canon inaccuracies – such is life. Politely point out any other mistakes, please.
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In a king sized bed in a hotel in London, two newly married teens were luxuriating in each other’s company. Both were lying on their backs, completely nude and lightly covered with white linen sheets. His fingers were laced through hers and both were sweaty, and hot, and happy.
“Five times, Harry?”
“I was inspired. Do you disapprove?”
“No, but everything I’ve ever read said most first timers aren’t that skilled. Did you – were you…?”
He snorted lightly. “No, Mrs. Potter. You were my first, only, and hopefully last. I’d ask you the same, but I could tell.”
Despite what the two of them had done together for the better part of several hours, she still blushed at what he was implying.
“I love it when I leave you speechless; though, this is the first time I’ve ever done it with just words.”
She smacked him gently on the shoulder. “Behave! You weren’t that good.”
He cocked on eyebrow at her and her stern face wavered – she looked away.
“Alright. Maybe you were that good.”
He reached over her and took her other hand in his, and then he gently tugged her so that she was lying comfortably against him. Her warm breath and soft breasts felt heavenly against his skin. He felt so wonderful that he decided he had a new favorite activity over flying – several actually.
“You’ve got that look on your face that says, ‘Flying, YAY!’”
He chuckled. “You are SO much better than flying. In fact, just thinking of that comparison does you an injustice. You, my dear wife, are an animal*.”
Her body tensed and she glared at him again.
He started stroking her back and playing with her hair.
She began to relax and in a gentle voice asked, “In a good way, I hope?”
He gently pulled her directly on top of him and proceeded to hug all her cares away. “Of course.”
She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him tight. “I’m not letting you die.”
“I don’t intend to die, you know that, Hermione.”
“You’re a worse liar than me, so don’t deny it,” she looked into his eyes. I can see you weighing whether you should lock me away to keep me safe or whether you should sacrifice yourself so I can be happy. Well, let me set you straight right now. I’m your wife, your lover and your partner. I won’t let you leave me behind like some silly fan-girl.” She stopped for a minute to let him digest what she had said and snuggled closer. “You’ve got a martyr complex and I don’t blame you for that, but I’m not letting anyone take you away from me. In this world and the next* until the end of time, that’s what we said at our wedding and I always keep my promises.”
He grinned. “You know, I think the priest was a little surprised by the vows you wrote for the wedding.”
“Actually, I think he was surprised by the fact that most magical vows don’t put out that much light.”
They were both silent for a time. Finally, Harry spoke. “I’m not leaving you.”
“You better believe you aren’t. If you tried, then I’d hunt you down and hurt you bad*.”
“Want to tell me why you were so insistent on the phrasing of the vows?”
“It’s a secret… but I’ll tell you if you really, really want to know.”
He smiled. He was at total peace. “I trust you. You gave me the option to know, but if you think I don’t need to know then I’m all right with that.”
She clutched him tighter.
“What’s the matter, love? I can tell something’s on your mind.”
“I’m worried about what we learned from Ron under truth serum.”
“…”
“Harry? I know you like to brood, but you can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?”
Harry didn’t reply immediately, but drew out the silence as if weighing something in his mind. He began to massage her shoulders and upper and lower back. He was surprisingly skilled with his hands – very skilled with his hands.
Hermione lay there listening to his heartbeat. He would speak to her when he was ready, and if he took too long, she would find a way to gently or not so gently persuade him to talk to her. The key to a successful marriage was communication, at least that was what her Grandmother always said and evidently it worked as they had been together for ages.
Harry’s contemplative expression changed to one of determination. He firmly wrapped an arm around her back and then quickly, but with surprising gentleness flipped her over so she was lying in the warm section of the sheets he had previously been occupying. He held himself suspended above her, resting on his forearms.
She could see the desire in his eyes and could feel his hot breath on her lips. “You’re trying to distract me.” It wasn’t a question, merely a statement of fact.
“Yes, is it working?”
“Yes-No-I mean… “
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”
“Haarrry…”
“It’ll be fine, love. I’m just trying to get my head around it. I thought of that arse like a brother and when I think of what he was planning with his mother and sister, I get so mad I want to… well, I honestly want to break things. But as you correctly pointed out, I can’t just think about myself anymore.” The side of his mouth quirked up and steady green eyes met and focused on equally steady brown. “How about we discuss it after we finish our honeymoon?”
“We still have time,” and she nodded. “I made sure he wouldn’t be waking up for at least three days and I’ve petrified and bound him in the tent so securely that even Houdini couldn’t get away.”
“I do so love a smart woman,” he murmured. Harry started kissing her teasingly on the lips, then moved onto the sides of her jaw, the sensitive spots behind her ears and then slowly moved on to her neck in order to work his way downward. “Now, I don’t want to think anymore on red-headed backstabbers for at least a day.”
“Agreed, but when we do sit down and make plans, they are going to regret ever messing with the Potters.”
“Absolutely,” he said with a smile from between her breasts. He stopped a moment later and looked up at her. “Remind me to tell you about an idea I have for a letter we need to write later.”
She smiled and nodded in acknowledgement and he eagerly returned to the task at hand.
The two teens stopped speaking after that for several hours. There was no need for words.
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*Homage to Robst’s “In This World and the Next” a glorious piece of fanfiction.
*Homage to Robst’s “More Important things” also a very good read. I loved that line.
*Reference to the only kissing scene that matters in the DH films. Apologies to Emma Watson and Daniel Radcliffe.