Private Escape in the Forest of Dean

ISEanity558

Rating: NC17
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 17/06/2012
Last Updated: 17/06/2012
Status: completed

Set during DH. Harry and Hermione grow closer after Ron abandons them on their search for the Horcruxes.

Chapters

1. untitled

1. untitled

Title: Private Escape in the Forest of Dean

Rating: NC-17

Part 1/1

Summary: Set during DH. Harry and Hermione grow closer after Ron abandons them on their search for the Horcruxes.

A/N: To all of those who are following “Through His Eyes” I assure you I have not abandoned it. This story is just a detour from my writer's block, but I want you guys to know that I am working on it, and part 3 will be the last part.

On another note, I also acknowledge that many others have done this story line, but I couldn't help myself and wanted to take my own spin on it.

Please read, review, and enjoy!

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Winter had fallen in the Forest of Dean. Frost covered the barren land around Harry and Hermione slowly engulfing them, as if to foreshadow their impending doom. The first fall of snow had slowed them down drawing them into a deeper state of depression as they tirelessly waited, researched, and sought out what to do for the next step in this battle that raged miles away from them.

The nights were unbearably cold. It had become a routine for them to huddle around the tiny fire outside of their tent. They no longer took turns to take watch. Instead they stayed up during the night together only taking brief naps, seeking comfort in each other's company from the hunger, the depression, and the restlessness that they both had to endure.

It had become a routine for them, as they snuggled close under the few blankets they had in their possession. The fire didn't comfort them as much as they did each other, and it had become a natural occurrence for Harry to settle against the tree near their tent as he incased Hermione against his chest as she sat reading between his legs.

It had been three months since Ron left them on their search. The berk had left on Hermione's birthday, and on that day, Hermione had given him the gift of unwavering loyalty as she refused to leave Harry's side to fight this battle alone.

He spent the days following making up for it everyway that he could, protecting her, comforting her, showing affection toward her that was slowly becoming more than platonic, as he worked in vain to muster at least one genuine smile from her a day.

In the past three months Harry had learned more about Hermione than he had in the past three years, or even the whole seven that he had known her. It was odd how much a person could learn about another in a place where the days dragged on with no other company or entertainment but each other. The need to escape every once in a while drew them into private conversations that they never told anyone else about. He learned who her favorite author was, her favorite artist, what kind of music she listened to, and what television shows she would watch when she wasn't reading while away from Hogwarts. She told him about her childhood, and although reluctantly, he trusted Hermione enough to tell her of his own.

She chewed on her bottom lip and restlessly ran her hand through her hair over and over while she sat listening to his tales of neglect and abuse. She said nothing, her face a mix of emotion as she let him talk and held his hand comfortingly. She was the one to hold him that night and stayed up keeping watch protectively, instead of the other way around or together. His story had wound her up, producing an instinctive feeling of protectiveness, while doing the opposite to Harry. It brought weariness straight through his bones, and when he was done, it felt as though it lifted a ton of bricks off his shoulders. For one night while in the Forest of Dean he slept peacefully, and away from his nightmares of war, Voldemort, and his abusive childhood with the Dursleys.

Every action, every detail, every bit of information he had learned he memorized and cataloged into his brain and heart. She was slowly becoming the most important thing in his life, and he wanted to know it all. He especially loved the things he learned that she did when she thought he wasn't looking. The way she chewed on her bottom lip while in deep thought. Her insistent need to clean when she felt restless. The way she smoothed her hand over every page of research after she filled the parchment with notes, her lip twitching into a tiny satisfied smile. The way she always ran her hand through her hair whenever she was nervous or anxious. And with a new revelation he learned that Hermione had moved in her sleep. A lot.

Their routine with him leaning against the tree while she rested her head on his chest and sat between his legs was becoming a bit of a situation with all the tossing and turning she did whenever she dozed off into an uneasy sleep. She was a female of course, and he was a teenage boy. He was becoming aware of how beautiful she was when she woke up in the morning, all drowsy and half coherent as she greeted him. Of how beautiful she was at night when she fought off her need to sleep, her brows furrowed in concentration as she read or knitted to keep herself awake. He found it adorable when she started nodded off and reluctantly set the things in her hands aside to turn to look at him as if to ask for permission to sleep. He never had the heart to deny her of anything, let alone much needed sleep that both of them lacked. She was beautiful in every time of the day, and he was quietly accepting his feelings and attraction for her. It was not something that they had talked about. In fact, they skirted the conversation completely and avoided talking about it all together even when Ron or Ginny's name popped up in their late night talks.

He was afraid of rejection. That she still had feelings for Ron. That she would tell him it wasn't the place or the time if he brought his feelings up to her. He did not want her to know what he truly felt, and definitely did not want her to know his body's reaction to her while she shifted over and over against him while he held her at night. The thought was mortifying.

Tonight to add to the discomfort of his erection as she moved against his hips, she breathed his name in her sleep for the first time. He slowly pushed her away from between his legs as his thighs trembled with need, and his arousal painfully aware that his name sounded so sensual as it passed her lips. It made him want her so bad it hurt.

The movement woke her and Harry watched horrified as she stirred in her sleep.

“What is it Harry?” She murmured sleepily and tried to snuggle back into his warm embrace.

Her eyes snapped open suddenly as she felt his arousal pressed against her back. “Oh,” she stated simply and turned to look at him.

He quickly diverted his gaze embarrassed. “Sorry,” he said quickly his face flushing.

“It's natural Harry,” she said in her matter-of-fact tone. “You're a teenage boy, and I'm a girl, and given the situation- ” she was suddenly cut off from him looking into her eyes, his gaze burning with need as he gave her a look that said, it's more than that and you know it, Hermione.

She suddenly forgot how to breathe and held her breath and waited for him to say something, or do something other than gaze at her longingly. When nothing happened she expelled her breath and tried to ignore the burning in her stomach pooling down further as her own need grew. She was more than confused at that point. “Do you, uh, want to go into the tent to… Relieve yourself? I can keep watch,” she said in a shaky tone.

“No,” Harry said and looked away embarrassed once more. “It will go away on it's own.”

She made a movement as if to move away from him, effectively and accidentally brushing against his arousal. He hissed and grabbed her hips. “Sorry,” he mumbled again, but made no effort to release his hold on her instead he pulled her closer and moved his hips as she let out a startled gasp.

“Harry,” she breathed not knowing if the tone of her voice was that of arousal or reproach. All she knew is that Harry's actions had taken her by surprise and the look in his eyes sent shivers down her body. She couldn't tear her eyes from his gaze or move away even if she wanted to, and she definitely did not. Her body screamed for something more, and so were Harry's eyes.

“What are you…” She bit her lip and Harry broke the eye contact and stared at her mouth his breathing labored as he buried his face in her neck and breathed her in.

“I'm sorry,” he groaned again and moved his hips once more, in a slow sensual rhythm, and his hands moved from her hips. One hand moved over her thigh, the other up her stomach to her breast. She could feel him shaking with need, or was that her? “I can't help it,” he said quietly moaning into her neck.

“Maybe we should go into the tent,” she said quickly before her bravery fled from her.

He nodded and followed her into the tent. When she turned to look at him, he looked ashamed and shifted from foot to foot. “Listen, Hermione,” he started and Hermione felt a wave a disappointment wash through her as his tone was filled with regret. “I don't know what came over me, I'm sorry,” he said apologizing for the millionth time and his eyes lingered on the floor.

She frowned feeling rejected. “You were thinking of Ginny,” she stated simply, only a hint of question in her voice. She felt vulnerable in the dim lighting of candles that adorned their tent. Of course he was thinking of Ginny, what was she thinking? And now that he saw her clearly away from the darkness of the forest…

“Don't be an idiot,” he said using the exact same term and scolding tone she reserved for Ron when he was acting stupid. “If we made love right now would you be thinking about Ron?” he asked sounding like he already knew the answer. He sounded so confident that she wouldn't betray him.

Her heart leaped in her throat as she shook her head slowly. Of course she wouldn't be thinking about Ron. It was Harry. It's always been Harry. She loved him for years and kept it inside all this time. She only fancied Ron because she thought Harry would never look her way to begin with. “Made love?” she asked tentatively and stared into his eyes.

“Yes,” he said softly and slowly made his way to her. “You deserve better,” his tone filling with regret again. “Not outside on the forest floor with me grinding against you like a randy teenager,” he said ashamed.

She smirked, “well you are a teenage boy you know.”

The look in their eyes suddenly turned grave as they stared at each other, realizing how quickly they had to become adults in need to make the right choices, and dismiss all the simple pleasures in life that many their age experienced.

“Tonight can we just forget about everything else? Is that too irrational to ask?” he inquired in a tortured tone, and touched her cheek. “Please,” he said in a desperate voice.

She leaned into his touch and stared at his mouth, “okay,” she whispered softly.

“I love you Hermione,” he breathed and leaned down for a kiss. He felt her freeze in her arms. He searched her eyes and found doubt there, tinted with questioning, of longing and hope. “I do love you Hermione,” he said with conviction. “And I'm going to show you how much.”

She trembled at his words as their lips slowly gravitated toward the others. She put her hand on his chest momentarily stopping him. “Harry,” she breathed his name like before in her sleep and his arousal throbbed almost painfully. “I love you too,” she whispered her lips so close it was just barely grazing his.

Their first kiss was magical. Literally, as they both felt a pulse of magic run through them, and swirl around them encasing them in a tingling sensation that was powerful. This kiss was nothing like the one with Cho, or the few private moments that he had with Ginny. It reminded Harry of the day he found his true wand in Olivander's shop all those years ago, and he wondered briefly if it happened the same way for Hermione. He found the one that belonged to him, just as he did his wand that day.

His roving thoughts were halted when Hermione ran her tongue along his bottom lip, silently requesting entrance and he deepened the kiss drawing her closer and flush against his body. His arousal became evident to her again as their tongues dueled passionately and the magic pulsed dramatically around them.

He felt her knees buckle beneath her and he held her steadfast practically lifting her as he directed them toward the bed behind her. Their kisses became a passionate frenzy as he gently lowered her to the bed. The kiss was broken only due to the need for air as they both gazed at one another with darkened eyes panting.

They had shared many moments between them where they had no need for words as they silently communicated with their eyes, and as Harry hesitantly gazed upon her with an imploring look, her body and fixed stare screamed yes to him.

He kissed her everywhere. Her eyelids, to the tip of her nose. Along her jaw to a detour to her mouth which he lingered for a moment. Down to her neck and along her collarbone to the freckle that he always wanted to kiss. He savored the moment taking his time as they slowly undressed each other, his eyes and his hands exploring new territories that delighted him in ways that he never knew he could feel. He wanted each kiss, each caress, each movement that he made to tell Hermione exactly how much he loved her, how much he needed her, and how significant this moment was to him.

And when he lowered himself upon her at her entrance and gazed into her eyes he knew he had succeeded. Her eyes were hooded and glazed over with desire but they spoke of full reciprocation of love, and it was almost his undoing.

“I'm afraid of hurting you,” he said through clenched teeth trying in vain to restrain himself from his overwhelming need to bury himself inside of her.

“It's okay,” she said reassuringly running her hand through his disheveled hair. “I want this,” she breathed and reached between them touching him with a shy hand.

He moaned and entered her in a maddeningly slow pace. He stopped at her barrier looking into her eyes and when he pushed passed it, they both lost their last bit of innocence that they had left and they clutched to one another for support.

He stilled at the crumpled look of pain that showed on her face and kissed her over and over a silent apology in each kiss. “I'm sorry,” he whispered feeling guilty.

“It's okay,” she said taking a deep breath. “Don't stop… Go slow.”

He set the pace, and he kissed her lovingly hoping each action was a redeeming solution to the pain. Eventually they moved as one, and the pain she felt was starting to alleviate. She was torn between a mixture of pleasure and pain, while he battled to restrain his release. His need for putting her first, and taking good care of her was much stronger than the need for his own climax. This attribute was what defined him, and he wouldn't fail her now.

The volume of her cries and frequency of her moans was testing his self-resolve though, and he moved quicker inside of her knowing she was starting to feel good as well. When she tightened around him in her climax, he sank into a blissful release, unaware of the magic swirling around them like crazy, reeking havoc as things were thrown by an unknown force almost collapsing the tent all together.

His body sagged and fell into her warm embrace and they lay there panting clutching each other like a lifeline. He withdrew himself and pulled her close kissing her softly before she rested her head on his chest. He knew he was smiling like a fool. If he died tomorrow he would die one of the luckiest and happiest man on the planet to be graced with this moment that he had shared with Hermione.

The thought made him think of the war and the crisis that was his life at the moment and his smile faded. The fleeting thought was interrupted by Hermione's soft giggle and he looked down at her questioningly. He wouldn't think about the other stuff tonight, tonight was his and Hermione's. Tonight this was their private escape.

“What's so funny?” he asked.

“If this wasn't a magical tent I don't think it would have made it,” she said a smile on her lips and they both looked around at the chaos. He chuckled as well. “Is this going to happen every time we do this?” she asked and ran her finger along his chest.

“I don't know, do you want to test its resilience?” he asked teasingly running his hand down her body.

“Why Mr. Potter, you're an eager one aren't you?” Hermione breathed as her heart rate picked up once more.

“Tonight is ours for the taking,” he whispered into her ear and caressed her softly watching her reaction to his touch in her eyes.

She bit her lip seductively. My, there were other reasons for her biting that lip weren't there? He really did learn something new about Hermione everyday.

Yes, tonight was their escape. Their private escape in the Forest of Dean. Tomorrow they'll resume their search. Tomorrow they'll go to Godric's Hollow and as he pleasured the girl beneath him with his touch and kisses, he couldn't think of anyone else to take with him in this journey that could be his end. He had a new resolve in this war. He now had a reason to live, and he would do anything to make that happen.

THE END

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A/N 2: I know that there is a bit of a timeline shift. That Hermione took Harry to the Forest of Dean after Godric's Hollow, and they were hopping from place to place before then. I switched it around for the title to this story, and it was easier to describe the setting. I'm done with my ramblings for now. Review please!

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