Chapter 6 - And So It Begins
Harry stands at the window to his study with his glasses back on and his arms crossed tightly across his chest. I put my knickers on as quietly as I can, grab my wand, and try to think of something to say. My legs are still wobbly. I have to lean against the desk for support as I put my knickers back on. I'm such a mess. I need a bath and I need to just be alone, but I feel like I should say something.
Sensing that I'm still in the room, just standing there mutely, Harry finally turns to face me. The first thought that goes through my mind is that I can't believe I'm the girl Harry has feelings for and not Ginny, or even someone else.
"I know what you want to say. It can't ever happen again," Harry says. He turns back to the window. "I understand."
For some reason, this hurts me. I want him to tell me to leave Ron so I can be with him. I don't make that promise because I know he's right. Nothing like this can ever happen again. It was a terrible mistake-one I won't repeat no matter how much I may want to.
I grab my bag and leave Harry's study.
The walk back to the Gryffindor common room seems to take forever. My thighs feel strange. I can't stop thinking about them, and what's between them, and how I felt deep inside when Harry…didallthosewonderfulthingswithhistongue…
I bite my lip. I can't help it, I feel like smiling. I feel completely different. Satisfied and happy and-no, not happy-I feel giddy. I feel giddy and giggly and a little bit dirty. I like the dirty feeling. I want to be dirty again someday, with Harry and no one else but Harry. Ever.
This must be what afterglow feels like…
The good mood evaporates when I reach the common room and find Ron at a table in the corner poring over an essay for some class. Charms, probably. He doesn't look up and I'm not sure if it's because he's too engrossed in what he's doing, or if he's ignoring me. Either way I don't care. I don't want to look him in the eye tonight. I don't want to face the guilt that will come when his gaze locks with mine. I just want to soak in a hot bath and let my mind wander.
That's exactly what I do when I reach my floor and find the bathroom is blessedly empty.
***
Christmas break will be here soon. Harry will undoubtedly go to the Weasleys for Christmas like always, while I go home to my parents. That hasn't changed, at least.
Two nights have passed since my encounter with Harry. There's guilt to be had when I face Ron and Ginny, and I swear I will never again allow myself to be alone with Harry, lest something happen. Something delicious and forbidden. I sometimes feel like I belong on the cover of some horrible romance novel, but when I think about Harry's tongue on me I don't care.
I'm surprised the dreams haven't returned. Two straight nights go by and Harry doesn't turn up in my dreams. Perhaps now that I've satisfied my curiosity about what it would be like to do something naughty with Harry I'm finally getting over it. Maybe now I can move on.
Breakfast of the third day I'm sitting across from Harry. Ron's beside me this time, hand on my leg. Nothing demanding, but warm and familiar. I like his touch. I like that it's friendly and comfortable. Ginny sits beside Harry, and they're reading the Daily Prophet together.
"Nothing more about that Serpent lot," Ginny says, sounding relieved. Long experience has taught me that no news is bad news. It means they've dug deep underground, and they're busy. We won't hear anything from them until they've done something terrible. I'm not looking forward to that.
I look up to examine the cover. Harry looks up at me and licks his lips.
I know he didn't do it on purpose. I've seen him look up from the paper whilst eating cereal and lick his lips a thousand times over the years. His actions are no different now. That's why my reaction surprises me. It's like that bubblegum tongue of his moves in slow motion. The whole world slows down, and there's only Harry, licking sugar from his bottom lip, and my thighs squeeze tight of their own volition. I don't know how, but I stop the moan in my throat before it can escape. My heart is thundering. I may as well be back on Harry's desk, his head between my legs, the feel of his tongue softly rubbing my clit, and his hands stroking my legs and running lightly over my belly.
"Hermione?"
Ginny is looking at me with sincere concern.
"Are you okay? You're face is so red!"
"Is it?"
Oh, God, my voice is two octaves too high, I just know it. Ron puts a hand to my forehead. I bat it away.
"I'm fine. I just…I need some fresh air. I think I'll head to class. Goodbye!"
"But you haven't eaten anything," Ron says.
"I'll get something at lunch!" I say, and hurry off to potions.
***
My study is a welcome refuge before lunch. I lie down on the divan and look out at the lake, which is covered in snow around the shore. Only toward the center does the water move. It's black but choppy in the windy winter air. There's a knock at the door. I bid whoever it is to enter, hoping it's not someone in need of tutoring.
I hear a very specific sound as the lock engages. It's the audible result of an advanced locking spell, a silent one that isn't easy to break. Ron doesn't know that spell. I taught it to Harry on the hunt for the Horcruxes. I know he's behind me. Without word, he slips into the space between my back and the divan.
This would be a good time to object. This would be a good time to remind him that we're not supposed to do anything like this again, but I can't find the words to tell him no. He doesn't speak. He doesn't seek verbal permission. He only runs the tips of his fingers up the length of my leg. I pull my shirt out of the waist of my skirt and Harry puts his hand flat against my tummy.
His touches are amazing. He doesn't make a single attempt to grope anything. He only runs his fingers lightly over my body. The tenderness begins to drive me mad and makes me want more. I turn on my back and look up at him. My skirt falls away from my knees, bundling up at my hips, exposing my white knickers. Harry doesn't take his eyes from mine as he slowly runs a hand down the inside of my parted legs and then up my tummy again.
"Harry…" I breathe.
"We have thirty minutes before lunch," he says in a steady voice. "What happened at breakfast?"
I'm a little thrown by his apparent lack of arousal. I suppose I should be glad that one of us is in control because he's right. We don't have time to risk anything more than these stolen few minutes. "You licked your lips. It made me remember."
Harry smiles at this. "Any regrets?"
I shake my head no. He leans down to kiss me, his hand still flat on my tummy. We indulge in a few minutes of this. It's intimate and tender, and I never want it to end.
"You go to lunch first. I'll come down a few minutes later," he says. "I won't lick my lips."
I laugh and kiss him. I kiss him and wish we could spend lunch here, alone, but that would raise suspicion.
"Are we starting an affair?" I ask.
Harry doesn't answer immediately. Instead he takes his hand from the warmth of my tummy and pulls my shirt down.
"Yes. Do you want to quit before anything else happens?"
I sit up beside him and fix my clothes. When I've got them sorted, I lay my head on his shoulder and then loop my fingers through his.
"No."
And so it truly begins.