Chapter Ten - Firsts
A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating. I've been very sick lately, suffering from anemia. To make up for it I'm posting chapters 9 and 10 together.
Harry and I send the students off to bed at 10:30. We've done the headcount, and with the exception of Ron, all
Gryffindors are accounted for. I sit up in the common room watching the fire blaze in the hearth and hoping Ron will
come through the portrait hole with some harrowing tale of abduction and miraculous escape. Of course that doesn't
happen.
I decide to go to my study, leaving instructions with the Fat Lady that no one is to leave the common room, and no one is to enter even with the password unless it's a teacher or the headmistress or there's an emergency. When I arrive, I start a fire in the hearth and then extinguish all other light. I lie down on the divan and stare out at the snow that had begun to fall earlier that day.
At some point Harry joins me in the night, after I'd fallen asleep. I awaken when the clock in the corner chimes 5 o'clock. I can feel Harry's even breathing behind me. He's asleep, but he's also fully erect. The feel of his cock pressing against my bum is oddly exciting. I ease against him and begin to move, rousing Harry from sleep with light friction. He comes awake with a moan that makes me wet my knickers.
"Hermione…" he whispers.
I'm fully awake now, still afraid about Ron, and for some reason that fuels my need to be closer to Harry. I pull off my top and my bra, and shrug out of my skirt and knickers. Harry eagerly pulls off his clothes, and soon we're both naked on the divan, skin to skin like I've dreamed for so long.
Our kisses are fast and hot. Our hands are eager to feel every inch of one another. Harry moves atop me and I wrap my legs around his waist. I go by instinct alone. My body pulses with need. Harry is beautiful in the dim firelight from the hearth, his green eyes vibrant in the golden light. I can feel him trembling as he holds himself in check, trying not to rush this.
He begins to push into me, and I'm surprised by the pain, and how quickly it puts a damper on my mood. Once he's all the way in, I realize how tense I've become, how much it hurts to have a man inside me. He kisses my brow, holding still, and strokes one of my legs and kisses my forehead, urging me to try to relax into it. Something that's easier said than done. Regardless of how much it hurts, the intimacy of the act is amazing; it's unlike anything I've ever experienced before.
Harry comes closer to climax. I can feel his muscles tense. His skin is slick from sweat. I hold onto him, run my hands down his back, and listen to the sounds of our bodies coming together, like the soft, wet sound of Harry's thrusts, his increasingly loud gasps that turn to low moans. I feel something approaching pleasure for the first time as he says my name in a voice strangled with lust. He thrusts hard into me on with a final cry of carnal need and I feel his release deep inside my body. It's hot and thick, and there's so much of it…. He trembles as he comes, and then relaxes heavily onto me. I hold Harry, and stroke his sweat-slicked back. Part of me is happy that it's over, while part of me longs to be with him again. For the first time in my life I've shared my body with someone I truly love, and I don't regret a moment of it.
When it's over Harry holds me and we say I love you for the first time. The clock chimes 6 o'clock and we know we have to get up and back to the common room to help organize the students to leave for the holiday.
"I'm going to stay here, at school, and work with the Aurors to find Ron," Harry says, pulling on his trousers.
I still can't believe I've just had sex…
"I should stay too," I say, pulling my skirt on.
"You have a family who needs to see you," says Harry. He shrugs into his undershirt.
I've actually had sex…
"I can return early, on Boxing Day."
I'm not a virgin anymore…
I pull on my shirt and tidy my clothes. Harry slips on his shoes. I'm still in awe that we're getting dressed after having shagged. I feel like I'm in a dream. I'm so happy and so in love that I'm not able to feel guilt or fear about Ron or anything else. I wonder if that makes me a truly horrible person.
The high doesn't last. Outside the security of my study I return to the real world. I bathe and dress, and go down to breakfast with the other students, making sure everyone is still accounted for. The return to the mundane, seeing Ginny's face pale with worry, brings me back down to earth and all the problems I left behind last night before going to my study, and making love with Harry.
I catch my reflection in a goblet. I still look like myself, but I've changed so much from the young girl who first sat at the Gryffindor table, anxious to learn all I could about magic and the world of witches and wizards.
I look at Ginny, who sits across from me. She's not just worried for Ron, she's worried for her new boyfriend. "They'll come back. The Ministry will find them."
Ginny nods; her breakfast is untouched. There are dark circles under her eyes. I'm sure she wonders where I spent the night. I'm sure she knows who I spent the night with, but she doesn't say anything. I think that argument is truly over with now.
"You can always send a Patronus, or an owl if you need to talk," I say.
Ginny nods again, and then stands. "I know. Goodbye, Hermione."
She leaves the Great Hall, and I watch her go with a deep sense of loss. For the past few years Ginny and I have gotten really close. She'd become one of my best friends, and now I've lost her forever.
I look over at Harry, who looks back with a great deal of understanding in his green eyes. As much as I care about Ginny and Ron, I wouldn't trade what I have with Harry for them or anyone else. For me, he's worth losing a thousand friendships. Tentatively I reach out for his hand. He takes it and squeezes it back. We sit there like that for a few seconds, uncaring of how many eyes watch and judge us.
***
Christmas this year is even more miserable than it was last year. Last Christmas I was on a mission with Harry to save the world. This year I'm sitting in front of the telly watching Muggle shows I've never heard of, missing Harry, scared for Ron, and wondering when I'll get to see either again.
Mum is trying to help, but she doesn't really understand my situation because I haven't told her. I informed her that I left Ron to be with Harry; that Harry and I are keeping our new relationship a secret, and that I feel like a traitor. She assures me that I'll figure it out in the end, and then asks if I'm being careful with Harry.
That's when it really hits me that I had unprotected sex and that Harry didn't pull out when he came. I marvel at my own carelessness. I'm always the one who thinks things through, who is practical and doesn't forget the details in the heat of the moment. I plan ahead, always thinking about the consequences of my actions. How could I have felt Harry come inside me and not once stop to think about pregnancy? That's so unlike me. Love can make you do mad things, I've heard, but I'd never have thought I'd behave so carelessly.
Nearly in a panic, I excuse myself, tell Mum and Dad that I'm going shopping, and head out to buy a pregnancy test. Not just any pregnancy test from a Muggle store. They're too unreliable. Instead I go to Diagon Alley with my hoodie pulled up to conceal my face, and I pick up a more reliable magical pregnancy test. Actually I get two kits so I can retest later to be absolutely certain. I also get some contraceptive potions to be taken once a week, and then hurry home, arriving just before dark.
The entire trip I'm aware of the Auror who is tailing me. She looks new, and isn't very good at concealment. I just hope she has a sense of discretion. I hope the clerk at the store will keep her mouth shut too, but I won't be surprised if my business ends up plastered all over Rita Skeeter's gossip column in the Evening Prophet.
The potion and the accompanying spell are complicated, but nothing I can't handle. It will take twelve hours for the entire process, but it can tell almost immediately if conception has occurred. I embarrassingly have to pee into the little cauldron where the potion is, and then hurry it to the room to put it over a Green Flame, something not easily conjured: it heats only certain magical elements. It's 8pm by the time I've got the entire test set up correctly. I'll know tomorrow morning if I'm pregnant.
I go to sleep and awaken on Boxing Day two hours before the test yields its results. I have dreams of telling Harry that I'm pregnant, of us trying to decide whether or not to keep it (abortion is frowned upon in the magical world, since our population isn't as abundant as the Muggle world, but they are legal), and I can see Ron's horrified face when he finds out I'm having Harry's baby. My head is splitting by the time I roll out of bed and step into the shower.
Eight o'clock finally rolls around. I'm cursing myself, telling myself to never ever be this irresponsible again. I'm not ready for children. While I can't imagine having a baby with anyone but Harry, this is not the time. We have our whole lives ahead of us, careers we both want to build. While a child wouldn't stop us from achieving anything we want, it would make it so much more difficult.
I stare at the cauldron, waiting to watch the steam change color from its natural green to either blue for negative, or red for positive. At three minutes after eight o'clock I'm in a panic, but then the steam suddenly curls up a very pretty sky blue shade.
I collapse onto my bed and cry with relief. I've had my first pregnancy scare. When I've gotten control of myself, I pack up the kit and dispose of it, and then prepare to go out with mum. It's the last thing I want to do. I'm hoping for word from Harry, or anyone, about Ron.
I'm spared an unwanted trip out when a stout tawny owl pecks on the living room window. I allow him in, give him some water and owl treats, and remove the letter attached to his leg. He takes flight at once as I sit down to read the letter. It's from Harry.
Go to the front door
I'm suspicious at once. Although it looks like Harry's hand, it could be a trap. Perhaps whoever took Ron, right out of Hogwarts, has also come for me. I strengthen my grip on my wand and check to see that Dad is snoring in front of the telly, and then I head cautiously to the front door. When I look through the spy hole I see a mop of bright red hair. My hearth thunders. My instinct is to throw the door open to see if it's Ron (I'd know that hair anywhere, it looks like the top of his head), but I'm wary of a trap. I Summon the Sneakoscope from my room, but it remains quiet and still.
"Just open the door, Hermione," I hear Ron say.
Unable to resist another second, I throw the door open and find Ron standing on my doorstep, grinning from ear to ear.
"Ron!"
With tears in my eyes, I throw myself into his outstretched arms.
***
"I was dropped off at the Burrow Christmas morning," Ron explains over tea.
"They had you for four days. What did they want?"
"I wish I knew. They kept me locked in this dingy cell. It looked like the belly of a castle. There were others there. I knew two of them. Rob Littleton and Grace McDonald."
"But how did they get you?"
"I went into the loo, saw Rob lying on the floor, Stunned. I went for my wand but before I could get to it I got Stunned too. Next thing I know I'm in that cell. They held us for four days and then came back, stunned us, and turned us loose. Kingsley said Rob and Grace were also returned home."
I find his story hard to believe. Not that I think Ron is lying, I just can't imagine anyone kidnapping him just to hold him in a cell and then release him, unharmed.
"You don't believe me," says Ron, sounding disappointed.
"Of course I do! I just can't make sense of it. Why kidnap you and not say or do anything?"
"Kingsley says they wanted to send the Ministry a message. Nobody is safe. They can get to any of us at any time."
"Has anyone been released from Azkaban?"
Ron shook his head no. "If their demands aren't met, though, they may start hurting or killing people."
I question him extensively, but nothing Ron says gives me a clue as to who these people really are, or what their agenda is.
"They seem so disorganized," I say. "Like they don't really have any experience in what they're doing or how to achieve their goals. They've been quiet…until they took you they didn't even seem to be a threat."
I take Ron's hand. "I'm so happy you're back safe."
"Thanks," he says. "I…I thought about you while I was in there. I thought about how things have been lately…"
His voice trails off awkwardly. I hope he doesn't ask us to give it another go. I swallow, because I don't want to reject him again.
"Look, about you and Harry…if there's something going on there, I'm all right with it. It's really none of my business anyway, but…I'm okay with it."
He looks so sincere. This would be the perfect chance to come clean with him about Harry, and to put his words to the test, but something holds me back. This is Harry's decision too. It's not up to me to tell Ron anything.
"Hungry?"
"Nah, I ate at mum's. Actually, I have to get back before she goes mental with worry. Oh!" he hurries to shrug into his jacket. "Harry came to the Burrow yesterday to see me. He says he has a new place in Godric's Hollow. He wants me to see it. He'll come round to collect us tomorrow. I can't wait."
"How come no one called me when you returned?"
"Didn't have a chance, did I? Kingsley interrogated me almost all night, then Harry and Ginny and mum. As soon as I could get away I came to see you. Dad's outside waiting, so I have to go. See you tomorrow."
Ron leans in and kisses me on the mouth. It's inappropriately soft and intimate, but I let it pass. He's been through a lot. A little kiss won't kill me. I walk him to the door and wave to Mr. Weasley, who waves back with a smile. He's clearly happy to have his son back.
I watch them drive away in the ministry car and then shut the door, leaning on it. I'm thrilled to have Ron home, but nothing he said made any sense. Who were the Sons of the Serpent, really? Why had they kidnapped three students from Hogwarts and not asked them a single question, only to return them home on Christmas day?
More importantly, had Ron's ordeal really given him a change of heart about our breakup, and me seeing Harry? My stomach is tight with turmoil. I know I don't have a reason to be wary, but I can't help it.
Something is wrong. I just don't know what.