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Undeniable	By : Maevenly Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 32329 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Undeniable

The castle was still. Not because
it was late and students were asleep. Nor that Filch had ceased his patrolling
of the corridors hours ago. The house elves, having long completed their
duties, had called it a well-worked day and settled down in their nests. The
stillness came from the very air. The overcast sky seemed to be holding its
breath waiting for something to happen. Something significant.

The stifling humidity visibly wafted
into the valley the day before and had reached its apex as the cloaked moon
rose. Students were irritable and professors impatient. Robes stuck to bodies
and socks became soggy messes in the bottoms of shoes.

Harry stretched to his full length on the bed and
purposely kept his arms and legs from touching his body. His privacy drapes
were pulled wide as not to hinder the first breath of breeze � should one occur.
He knew it would. It would have to. Nothing can stay the same for long. Let
alone the weather. He felt that EVERYTHING was on the cusp of changing. And it
not only had to do with the beads of sweat that were prickling the fine hairs
around his ears and sliding down to the nape of his neck.

�Adventures� in his life had taught
him to expect the unexpected. Whenever he was pressed for a specific example,
his standard response would be recounting the day he found out he was (of all
things) a wizard after being subjugated for years by his only living blood
relatives, the Dursley�s. There was something about this night,
though, that had him shifting as he lay on top of his covers. Somewhere deep
inside there was some aspect of himself that wanted to be � needed to be � part
of whatever was going to happen. Yet, he was loath to get out of bed. His mind
drew a parallel between his reluctance to rise and the latent guilt he felt
when his footsteps were the first to mar freshly fallen snow. But, that small part
of him would not let him be. It became more and more insistent until he
graduated to feeling restless. Which is NOT a sleep-conducive frame of mind.

Conceding defeat, Harry swung his
feet over the side of the bed and sat up in one fluid motion. Leaving his
dressing robe draped over his trunk, he opted to add a pair of house slippers
to the t-shirt and shorts he had donned as bedclothes. He had enough experience
sneaking out after curfew that none of his four roommates stirred when he left
the room. Balancing on the balls of his feet, he rapidly descended the stone
stairs that led to the common room. Silently gaining the large room with its
cozy couches, squishy armchairs and sturdy study tables, he glanced about and
noticed that all the scattered, empty butter-beer bottles, crumpled pieces of
parchments that didn�t quite make it into the fireplace and all the other
refuse left by his fellow Gryffindors had been cleared.

It was enough that he was out of bed
and moving about. He could not, however bring himself to speak. Instead, he
silently gave thanks to the conscientious house elves assigned to the Tower and
throughout Hogwarts. In fact, he mused, how could anyone NOT feel a
sense of allegiance to the school � regardless of your specific species?

Sweeping his gaze around the room one
more time, Harry spied Crookshanks on a far tabletop. Not quite sure what he
was seeing, Harry crossed the room to get a better look at the
half-cat/half-kneazle - which had shed more than a few ginger hairs on his
black school robes. Closer inspection revealed a sight that was almost enough
to make Harry chuckle out loud. It took only moments to understand why the
bottlebrush-tailed cat chose to sleep where he was. The smooth, polished wood
was (in all likelihood) the coolest surface in the dormitory. What was
astonishing was the position Crookshanks had contorted himself into. The feline
was on his back with his neck bent and his head cocked to an unbelievable
angle. His body was slightly bowed. Forelegs
were resting on the well-worn tabletop and his paws pointed up towards the
ceiling. Those hind legs! They were completely splayed out in a manner that
would be considered�. obscene if he were human. That�s what pricked at Harry�s
sense of humour most of all. All in all, Crookshanks had as much of his body
pressed against the cool wood as possible while leaving himself exposed (again,
Harry had to fight the snicker that bubbled in his chest) to the relief that
the crossbreed knew was coming.

Clever kitty.

Clever Harry.

That animal would be his means of
getting past the Fat Lady�s portrait without being noticed.

Rousing Crookshanks with scratches
to all of his favourite places (behind his ears, under his chin, just to the
outside of his whiskers) brought a second, involuntary smile to Harry�s face in
as many minutes. How many times had he caught Hermione lavishing attention on
her beloved cat when she didn�t think anyone was paying any attention to her?
Mentally sighing, Harry knew that she always caught his attention. Oh, well.

Pushing that thought aside for
another time, Harry could see why Hermione got that �look� on her face whenever
she spent some one-on-one time with her pet. The simple act of bestowing the
gift of pure pleasure and affection without looking for anything in return
solely because you want to physically manifest the feelings you have was a
sudden flash of insight for Harry. Come to think of it, there isn�t a week
that goes by when Hermione doesn�t help me understand a theory, diagram a
Transfiguration in a way that allows me to understand the process more clearly
or surprise me with her grasp of the materials in Advanced Potions. Now,
she was teaching him a lesson he was surprised he didn�t already know. En
Absensia.

Crookshanks stretched and pulled on
his muscles as he became more awake. Harry could only imagine the kinks his own
body would have if he ever managed to twist himself into that position.

Still not wanting to disturb the
quiet, Harry merely looked down and made eye contact with Hermione�s familiar.
Harry was caught off guard when he saw recognition cross the cat�s face.

Flexing his paws, Crookshanks
dropped off the table and nimbly landed without making any noise what so ever.

Harry followed and paced his
strides in time with the animal�s footfalls. He watched as Crookshanks rubbed
his body three times against a knot in the portrait door before it swung
inward. He heard, rather than saw, the Fat Lady grumble tiredly - but without
reproach - when she saw the familiar gingered-coloured feline. Harry, for his
part, barely crossed the threshold before the door closed again. Pressing his
body as flat as possible against the wall, he waited. For what, he really
didn�t know. That is, until Crookshanks gave him a look through a bottlebrush
tail and over a furry shoulder. Harry cocked his head quizzically. Crookshanks
stamped his forelegs. Harry still didn�t understand. Twisting his ears one at a time (like he was trying to dislodge
something), Crookshanks gave himself a mighty shake that started with his nose
and ended with an impatient swish of his tail. Turning completely around, he
faced Harry squarely and blinked both his eyes at the same time. Twice. Now
Harry got it. The woman in the portrait had gone back asleep! Nodding
his head in a gesture of thanks, he gave the cat a jaunty three-fingered salute
and headed down the corridor in confidence. Harry couldn�t help but hope that
his cohort would soon find another cool place to rest until the weather broke.

Harry moved lightly through the
castle. His slipper-shod feet tread silently on the warm stone. He wasn�t ready
to venture beyond the ancient structure but he wanted � needed - to be
able to survey not only the castle but the grounds as well. With no particular
destination in mind, he wasn�t surprised to find himself climbing flights of
stairs to the Astronomy Tower.

Undeniable

Chapter
2

Pulling himself over the last rung
of the ladder and landing with a flourish, Harry saw that all the schools�
telescopes were still focused on whichever star was last viewed by the
previously scheduled class. Mentally picturing the star chart that decorated
the roof of his four-poster bed (another one of Hermione�s brilliant ideas)
Harry made a game out of trying to guess which heavenly body had been last
observed by all the different lenses scattered across the open air Observation
Deck.

For no overtly obvious reason, his
concentration was suddenly shattered. Something is different. Something
had changed. He could feel it. But what was �it�?

He knew that nothing had yet to move
in the castle. Everyone and everything in the castle was still in a state of
lethargy. The �it� had something to do with the very air itself. It felt�
charged. Not to the extent that aroused any feelings of anxiety. Groping for
the correct context, he would have to admit that he felt like his senses were
in a slightly more heightened state. Several metaphors crossed Harry�s mind
before he put his mental fingers on the description that seemed the most�
appropriate. It reminded him of the time he had been watching someone who had
been holding their breath and was feeling the first licks of panic crowd their
control. Knowing that shortly they would either be forced to exhale or pass
out.

A slow movement caught the corner of
his eye. That�s odd � one of the telescopes is no longer pointing up at the
stars. Harry crossed to the errant piece of equipment and crouched down.
Aligning his line of sight with the new angle of the lens, Harry tried to
ascertain where he was now looking. Not seeing anything but the lake, Harry
fitted his left eye to the barrel of the scope and adjusted the focus. What he
saw was a nook along the lake�s edge that he hadn�t noticed before � not in all
the years that he had been at Hogwarts.

Heat lightening flashed over the
distant mountains that flanked the valley. Harry was grateful that his night
vision was unaffected. It was too far off to do anything but make its presence
known. Or was it? He could have sworn that in the instant that followed
the flash, he saw something glint in the water along the far side of the quiet
nook. Whatever it was, it glistened silvery every time there was a burst of
lightening.

Wanting to eliminate the possibility
that somehow the glare of his glasses was what he saw, Harry slipped them off
his nose and carefully placed the folded frames into his shorts� pocket.
Readjusting the focus, he waited.

Nothing.

Disappointed, he was a heartbeat
away from disengaging himself when another distant flash went off. That is when
he saw that shimmering silver gleam for a second time. Wanting to be absolutely
sure that it wasn�t the glare of the lake refracting off of one of the numerous
storey-high picture windows that dotted the exterior of Hogwarts, he waited for
the next unhurried burst of lightening.

His patience was rewarded with not one but two pulses of
cloud-to-cloud light where that latter flash was more pronounced than the
first. The second flash illuminated a silvery ripple that marred the lake�s
glass like surface.

Stealthily following the paths that
would lead him to that discreet area of the lake, it became more apparent that
it was more than curiosity that drew him across the school grounds.

The grass was dry against his house
slippers. Days of summer-like heat had prevented rain but the lake leached
enough moisture into the soil to keep the grass supple and silent.

Deciding that a full frontal
approach may not be the wisest course of action � after all who knows what I
might encounter � he altered his track slightly as he came up on the shrub
and tree formation that he had given a once-over from the Tower. Being able to
inspect the area much more closely, Harry could see why this part of the
lakeshore was so unfamiliar. It was so well concealed that it gave credence to
a speculation that someone would have to be invited into the sanctuary that the
nook provided rather than the cove allowing itself to be discovered by
deliberate exploration.

Stepping through the thick shrubs,
underbrush and intertwining tree boughs, the screen like foliage offered almost
no resistance to the dark-haired boy�s questing hands.

Another round of heat lightening
afforded Harry a better look at the shimmering, silvery unknown that had
beckoned to the seventeen year old all the way from the Observation Deck. This
time, the lightening pulsed three times and Harry�s un-bespectacled gaze never
left what he caught sight of in the water.

Whatever it was, it was something
that he had never seen before. Beautiful was the first word that Harry�s mind
used to describe what was in front of him. Mini waves of silver lapped at one
another. Where the ripples met was where the shimmering, silvery light had the
greatest concentration. His eyes followed one particular series of ripples as
they journeyed across the surface of the lake and attached themselves in an
ever-thickening ribbon of beauty on the moss-covered bank. Harry could just
make out the contrasting evergreen trees that only served to compliment the
sight before him. Taking in a deep breath, he knew that if he had stayed a-bed,
he would have truly regretted not experiencing this phenomenon. He couldn�t
help but think that if his mates heard his �girly� thoughts, they would not
hesitate to rib him for weeks!

Bringing his attention to the water�s edge, he squinted into the
darkness. There is something about those ripples. They were coming
ashore in regular intervals. Not that there were the same amount of waves to
each set, but there was a definite rhythm. An unexplained tension began to grip
him. The waves were travelling much more closely together and their silent
lapping was increasingly more insistent. Then � inexplicably � they stopped all
together.

A thousand cries of dismay echoed in
Harry�s head. He knew that he hadn�t been seen � at least not yet. The trunk of
the tree he was leaning against was an ideal shield. What happened? He
didn�t dare breathe lest that was the cause. Was it simply over? Was
what he saw all there was? What�

The flurry of questions that crowded
his mind came to a screeching halt. He saw what he had been waiting for �
without knowing WHAT he was waiting for.

Lightening was flashing in pulses of
twos and threes. For the first time Harry heard the distant growl of thunder
echo quietly through the valley. Then, he saw it.

It was a female.

She was beautiful.

A beautiful (again that was the only
adjective that came to his sexually awakened befuddled mind) female form arose
from the depths of the lake and broke the water�s surface. From his vantage
point, Harry could not see her face but the profile she presented left him with
a loss for words. He watched with bated breath as her curved form emerged from
the lake swathed in shimmering, living silver.

He realized that she had
deliberately angled her head when she broke the surface to prevent her hair
from becoming hopelessly entangled. Instead, her long hair was pulled flush
against the sides and back of her head. Water-weighted, it laid flat against
her back.

The silver that tripped over her
fingers as she moved her hands over her hair to squeeze off the excess lake
water captivated him. He watched the play of her muscles as she swung her arms
to stabilize her self as her perfectly tapered legs gained purchase on the root
re-enforced bank.

Without breaking her gait, she
gathered her hair one more time and gave it another twist. Harry�s imagination
did not have to stretch far to envision the flow of silver that would have
travelled down the groove of her spine. Perfect silver footprints traced her
path from the water�s edge to where she paused before a woven blanket that had
been smoothed evenly over the softly aromatic, cushioning moss.

Her long fingers moved as one as she
brought one hand and then the other down her arms. Harry�s breathing hitched as
he watched the same hands move to the top most slopes of her breasts, over the
tightly budded tips and chase increasingly thickening streams of silver down
her midriff. Over the slight concave of
her stomach only to witness the silver develop into full-fledged rivers
complete with the rapids that were where her hips joined her thighs and cascade
the length of those wonderfully formed legs.

A moment of honesty flared behind Harry�s eyes. He was glad that
he could not see all of her, whatever she may be. He rather liked the fact that
he only saw the profile of her face, neck, breast, stomach, buttocks and leg.
At the very least, it would make the conversation he would have with Hagrid on
the morrow (as to what she might be) leaving him just short of stammering for
words and blushing to the roots of his hair.

The movement of her bending forward
erased any thoughts of his burly friend from his mind. The gentle swaying of
her breasts in the pulsing lightening as she turned her attention to her legs
forced Harry to remember that he had to first to exhale the air he drew into
his body before he could inhale his next breath. Her hands wrapped themselves
around her thighs, down to the tender indentations behind her knees only to
press the remaining silvered water off her calves that flowed over her ankles.

Thunder growled more loudly but he
doubted that she heard it. She was now completely bent in half and was finger
combing her long hair. Without warning, she straightened her body and flipped
her hair back. Waves of wet tresses flowed down her back and splayed around her
shoulders. She was highlighted in living shimmering silver. Even the gentle
waves of her hair glinted with silver at every crest and trough. And where she
had made the effort to �dry� herself, a sheen was left on her skin that lead
Harry to believe that her glimmering body had to be the result of silver
flowing through her veins and illuminating her flesh from the inside out.

Again, the rumble of thunder echoed
in the valley. This time it was even closer to where this enthralling creature
stood and the tree that provided such an effective blind for Harry. The
lightening pulsed erratically and with more intensity. Because she was standing
perpendicular to him, Harry was left to surmise on his own as to whether or not
her private curls glinted like the hair on her head.

Displaying an evident inherent
grace, the arrestingly ethereal creature stepped on to and lowered her body
onto the prepared blanket. In settling herself, her volumes of hair obscured
her face in the fraction of a moment that Harry thought her countenance was
going to be revealed. Instead, he appreciated the way she crooked her knees and
rested her bottom and the small of her back on the lushly covered moss. Her
feet were pressed flat to the ground and she supported her remaining weight on
her forearms.

Another growl of thunder sounded and
lightening preceded its mate by seconds. Silvered water glinted brightly in the
darkness and the subtle glow her body emanated only added more layers of
mystery for Harry to ponder as to who she was and what she was doing on a night
such as this. He could only stand there and speculate as to what she would do
next. She did not keep him waiting long as she lifted her head expectantly to
the sky. He could tell that this creature and the powerful forces of nature
were very much attuned by the quivering that fluttered along the lean lines of
her body.

More thunder � it was now coming in
peals. The lightening that had � until now � been pre-empting the booming that
now vibrated the very leaves of the tree where he sheltered was hard pressed to
keep ahead of it�s spouse. The air temperature changed. It had cooled ever so
slightly. Somewhere beyond the tallest trees in the Dark Forest, the merest
whisper of a wind began to chase the clouds that cloaked the sky. The first few
fat raindrops began to fall.

Stillness had enveloped the valley,
the school and it�s inhabitants for hours. Harry was absolutely positive that
she � whomever, whatever her origins � she was the FIRST to break the silence
in a way that all the thundering could not.

She laughed.

She laughed with pure, joyful
abandon as each drop struck her body. This was HER time. THIS was what she had
been awaiting. THIS was a part of who and what she was.

The longer she laughed, the more she
enjoyed the rain. As her enjoyment escalated, the rain seemed to pick up in
intensity and tempo. His eyes followed the outline of one breast as it rose and
bounced every time she drew breath. He had never seen anything like this
before. Entrancing was watching how her laughter travelled down the length of
her body, caused her thighs to tremble and that her mirth reached the very
bottoms of her feet. Her silver skin complimented rather than competed with the
pearly gleam of her smile. She was� as part of her surroundings as she was
unique unto herself.

The first few drops stayed on her
body exactly where they landed. As the rain steadily increased, Harry was
shocked to see her silver skin peel away. No, that isn�t right, he
thought. It�s melting off her. Reprimanding himself for not knowing the
right words to convey what was happening just a few yards away; Harry
concentrated on the creature revelling on her blanket. He saw silver-rich drops
detail something akin to a comet�s tail as they raced down the planes of her
body. Then, the skies really opened up and the deluge began.

Raising herself off of her forearms,
Harry thought that she was going to flee for shelter. He could not have been
more wrong. She lifted her arms high and spread them beyond the width of her
shoulders as she turned her palms to the treetops. Water wound it�s way around
her body like a river surging down stream before coming to rest � like and eddy
� on her blanket. What he couldn�t see, he envisioned: rainwater flowing over
her curves and speeding across her stomach, pushing the living silver into and
out of her navel and spilling off of both her hips. He watched as fingers were
once again raked through her hair. But this time, she used the rain like a
rinse to rid her locks of their silvering.

What was she? Was she some sort of
lake-maid? A naiad that had somehow found herself in a remote body of water far
from the open sea that she called home? Perhaps she was the only remaining half
of some tragic love that could not bring herself to leave the very place where
her heart met its demise. Who else - what else - could swim naked in a lake
inhabited with territorial mer-people and a giant squid in the darkest part of
the night?

To find abandon in a storm�

To have her silver skin fall away to
reveal�

Did she only come out at night? Was
he the only person to have watched her emerge from the water? Ever? Or, was he
the thousandth? Resting his forehead against the wet tree trunk, time lost all
meaning. He could have been out of bed for five minutes or for five hours. She
filled his senses and his mind and he had just begun to take in all that she
presented � let alone what remained to be discovered. It did occur to him that
the rain had slackened and that the thunderstorm had moved further down the
valley.

A grumble sounded in the distance �
there would be more than one storm breaking on this night�

Author�s
Note: This story
is set a couple of weeks after school begins.

To offer
a little background on the premise of the story, let me share something with
all of you.

I live
on an island in the Atlantic Ocean. Among the trillions of things that live in
the water, there are tiny organisms called dinoflaggelates (and I am sure I am
misspelling this word � please forgive!). And, specifically in late August to
early September - they spawn. One summer, a group of friends and I went
swimming and found that our bodies glowed � and when we climbed out of the water,
not only did the water ripple beautifully with silver as water was displaced,
but our footprints were actually silver filled impressions in the sand. Of
course, I took a little liberty in the life cycle of the organism in order for
it to apply to the story � but heck � it�s Hogwarts.

Undeniable

Chapter
3

A grumble of thunder sounded in the
distance. Another storm would be on their, her sanctuary before long.
The tapering rain became gentle and caressing.

Harry�s hiding spot had provided him
with enough cover to keep him relatively dry. She, on the other hand, had
chosen to be completely out in the open and was now just as wet as when she
first climbed out of the lake encased in living, shimmering silver.

The silver that had once coated her
was now pooled around her body, which rested on a blanket. He could not repress
the twinge of disappointment that coursed through him as he watched her sit all
the way up and pull her feet underneath her thighs. Rotating her ankles, she
transferred her weight to her toes, flexed her leg muscles and pushed her
self-upright. Edginess crept into a corner of Harry�s mind as her saturated
hair began separating itself into frustratingly screening waves. Stepping
backwards until she was no longer standing on her blanket, Harry took in the
sight of her bending at the knees, jutting her bottom out as she grasped the
decorative fringe that made up the perimeter of her ground covering. Then he
heard her murmur. Was she casting a spell?

Ending almost as soon as it started,
there was a blur of movement that Harry�s mind had to instantly replay to fully
comprehend as to what had just occurred.

When she took hold of the blanket �
she did whisper a spell. Then she raised her arms only as high as her shoulders
and gave the blanket such a �snap� that if Harry hadn�t seen it with his own
eyes, he would have sworn someone cracked a whip somewhere in his general
vicinity.

Droplets of that shimmering, living
silver splattered in every direction. Every low lying branch, individual blades
of grass, the leaves on the shrubs and even intertwining coils of moss glowed
as if a full moon was suspended in a cloudless night sky. Despite the
precipitation that still fell, the silvered droplets adhered to the surfaces on
which they landed. The combination of the snap and the vision that was now
before him caught Harry off guard. He inhaled sharply. The quiet of the
sprinkling rain only amplified that ragged breath he drew into his body.

Harry froze.

He prayed that she did not hear him.

His prayer went unheeded. He knew
that she had heard him when she stopped smoothing the creases in the newly
settled blanket. I�m busted.

Pressing his left shoulder into the
tree, he twisted to his right. Looking up and seeing wet bark and leaves
drooping heavily with rainwater, he listened to his heart pound painfully in
his chest as his mouth went dry. He had no choice but to do one of three
things. One: he could remain absolutely still and hope for the best. Two: he
could try to sneak away un-noticed and hope for the best. Or three: he could
present himself and pray that the worst wouldn�t happen. The story of Artemis
and the hunter instantly came to mind. He couldn�t think that being hunted,
chased and killed by his own hounds could constitute as being a good thing.

Harry willed his legs not to fold as
he pushed himself way from his tree. The next few moments passed quickly, but
for Harry it seemed like someone kept engaging a time-turner. Every movement,
exchange and inevitable spoken words were exaggerated and drawn out.

At the same time, his naiad drew
herself to her full height and kept her gaze fixed on the lake. She gave no
indication that there was anything amiss in her refuge.

Harry stepped completely clear of
the foliage that had screened him for so long. He watched as she squared her
body and began to adopt a defensive stance; she kept herself perpendicular to
him and her right hand out of sight. The strategist in him approved � clever
girl.

Drawing a deep breath, it took the
span of two more just like it for Harry to force himself to move forward. He
was a lot closer to her than he thought. Even without his glasses, there would
be nothing about her that would - or could - happen between them that would
escape his notice.

She pulled her hip first and then
her shoulder to the left so that she was facing him fully. Knowing that he was
in the wrong for trespassing into her sanctuary, he tried to keep his eyes
respectfully down cast as to not embarrass her or himself. He hurriedly thought
of apologies and excuses, but his attempt at gentlemanly honour only lasted for
a moment. His hormones turned out to be his undoing. He took in all the
delights he knew her body possessed. His eyes reached the creamy expanse of her
shoulders just as she brought that specific part of her body in alignment with
her hips. His gaze rose to her neck as she tossed her hair down her back with a
well-practised lift of her chin. His frantically rehearsed platitudes never got
passed his lips when he looked at her face.

The naiad was HERMIONE!

Harry�s jaw popped in its socket as
his mouth opened and shut without a word being said. Recognition seared his
mind. He knew no language that could translate the silvered water goddess into
his best friend � best FEMALE friend � in the whole world.

For her part � from what Harry could
see � Hermione relaxed her stance as soon as she realized exactly who challenged
her solitude. A corner of her mouth pulled back in a grin Harry would bet a
month�s worth of Potions homework that he had NEVER seen before in all the
years they had been in each other�s company.

He however, could not make himself
move. He was firmly planted where he stood. He watched � mesmerized � as she
strode the few steps necessary to stand directly in front of him. Hermione�s
eyes and her body language spoke volumes though her mouth never moved. Bringing
her arms forward she encircled his wrists with her long fingers. Retracing her
steps and moving backwards was the encouragement Harry needed to put one foot
in front of another. He was acutely aware of everything: the rain that
pattered softly on his face; the warmth of her hands on his
captured wrists; the smell of� green� all around him.

Harry knew that his eyes and body
asked so many questions in those first few moments that it would take years for
Hermione to answer them all. For now, he was content to accept the replies she
was giving him on the most urgent queries of the moment. The first of which she
chose to answer by bringing the backside of her fingers to one of his temples
and tracing a path along the length of his jaw.

Taking his cue from her, he brought
the backsides of his fingers to one of her temples. The moment his skin touched
hers, their eyes locked onto one another. Her cinnamon hued eyes met his
emerald irises unflinchingly. He could not � would not � look anywhere else.
For her part, she didn�t look away but kept her gaze encouraging and even. He
felt the slight protrusion of her cheekbone, the soft skin that was to the side
of her mouth before coming to rest on her jaw as well. He knew that she could
feel him work his jaw beneath her fingers as he struggled to rein in all the
emotions that were competing for his attention.

Her turn.

Turning her hand so that her
fingertips grazed the stubble that peppered his jaw and neck, Harry had to
smile as she discovered and tested the different textures that at first gave
her pause. He felt delicious shivers race along his spine as he felt her brush
the area from every direction � marvelling at how with a flick of her wrist he
could feel so smooth and yet so very raspy in the same exact spot. As Hermione
explored, he found it increasingly difficult to repress what he was physically
feeling as she uncovered sensitive areas on his throat that he himself did not
know he possessed until her questing fingers awakened dormant nerve endings.

His turn.

Keeping his gaze as steadily on her
face as possible, he let his fingertips grazed the underside of her jaw. A
feeling of� he couldn�t identify it but when she lifted her head to give him
better access to the sensitive areas of her neck, the feeling surged. Breaking
eye contact, Harry watched Hermione�s heart thump at the hollow of her throat.
Sensing that she was asking him another question, he brought his green gaze
back to a set of orbs flecked with amber. His answered her question by lifting
his arms away from his body. Hermione reached for the hem of his sodden shirt
and pulled it over his head. He heard � rather than saw � it land on the
moss-covered lakeshore. Then she did something he did not expect. She stepped
back and withheld her next question.

It was his turn.

Not to do something to her � but to
do something for himself.

The look on her face told that if he
chose to walk way, there would be no permanent damage to their friendship. He
had to decide � for himself � what he wanted � for himself. He had to
make a decision about how he felt about the emergence of a �them�.

It was an astounding gift. He knew
that at anytime she could seize control, envelope him in a passionate embrace
and engage his sexuality. But that is not her style, She is not a Veela, Harry
mused. Engage in tricks and ploys? That is not how Hermione thinks � unless
she is defending those she loves. There was no denying that she was tapping
into a reservoir of Hermio-courage. She was able to make it obvious to him that
it was Harry � all of Harry - that Hermione wanted. It was equally important
for her to know that he wanted her as well, but on the one condition that was
even more vital if her gamble were to come to fruition. Harry would have to
know that Harry wanted her � beyond an isolated sexual encounter. Realization
and acceptance of what he wanted would elevate anything that may happen between
them above and beyond the carnal level.

The moment stretched.

Thunder pealed and lightening
flashed.

Rain fell on their bodies.

Harry saw her rib cage swell as she
drew a deep steadying breath in preparation of stepping back and making good on
her promise.

Now, it truly was his turn.

Now it was his turn to pull back the
corner of his mouth and mirror the same grin she gave him moments before.

Sliding his feet free of his slippers, he was surprised
to find the wet moss springy and coolly refreshing between his toes. Using his
thumbs, he hooked both his shorts and the waistband of his skivvies and
simultaneously tugged them so that they pooled around his ankles. Stepping free
of the last of his clothes, he brought his gaze level with hers conveying the
answer she was awaiting.

Yes, Hermione. I KNOW that you
are the one that I want.

For the first time in a long time,
he consciously lowered his guard and in return he was the first to receive
complete access to all that Hermione was offering.

The feeling that he could not name
surged again, more powerfully than before. She re-asked for the permission he
had already granted. She answered his same question again.

A combination of curiosity and fascination fuelled the pads her
fingers as she traced the length of his collarbone. She reached for his
shoulders and stretched her hand around the corded muscle. She flicked her eyes
back to his face and saw that he was focused on her facial expressions rather
than what she was doing as she continued her journey around his triceps, down
his forearm and back up to that tender spot on the inside of his elbow. She
squeezed the bulk of his bicep and found no play in the muscle that resided
there. Her fingers returned to his collarbone and confirmed that his other arm
was just as sound.

Harry indulged in a moment of
slyness. It would only be a matter of time before she knew the true extent
of their capabilities.

Undeniable

Chapter
4

It was his turn and he wasn�t going
to relinquish his advantage any time soon. In fact � if he had his way � he
could practically guarantee that it would be a while before Hermione would have
her wicked way with him.

Her rain-slicked skin aided him in
sliding his calloused fingers and palms up and over her collarbones. He was so
close to her that he could tell when the goose bumps his touch raised receded.
She was also much stronger than he would have guessed. He could feel the
muscles in her shoulders flex under his ministrations. Gliding down the outside
of her arm, he turned his attention to the inside of her elbow in hope of
discovering if she were as sensitive as he proved to be. His hands came to rest
where her upper arm joined the rest of her portioned body.

Looking back at her face, he saw a
new expression come over her. Which caused another tidal wash of that feeling
to rise � this time it seemed to be part of his very blood. Her focus danced
between his eyes, hands and lips. For Harry, it was her eyes, full bottom lip
and the hollow at the base of her throat that commandeered his immediate
attention. They stepped together to time that the thunder kept. Lightening kept
their sanctuary illuminated. The rain kept their skins glossy and lips
smooth.

For the first time since going to
bed hours ago, Harry spoke. �Hermione?�

He said her name as a question as
well as a command: enticingly and yet full of reassurance.

Hermione�s voice was so sensual that
her transformation from best friend to �something more� was complete. It was
laden with as much emotion as five letters could carry.

�Harry.�

Two pulses of lightening and a crack
of thunder broke her concentration. Excitement flooded her veins and shook her
body. Her lips spread wide and her eyes became triangles as the next storm
broke around them and encompassed her refuge. He could feel her body thrum with
exhilaration as the rolling overhead clouds clashed.

Harry found himself looking at the
sky as well. Not feeling the same sensation of freedom that Hermione was
demonstrating, he found her enthusiasm infectious none the less. He found
himself responding in a way that compelled him want to share in her exuberance.
He reached down, bent his knees, grasped her hips and lifted her as high as he
could into the rolling clouds.

Hermione is so light! The
squeak, squeal and subsequent bubbling laughter told Harry that she approved. After
her riotously, slightly panicked bewilderment was replaced with joyful abandon,
he mused.

Nor did he mind being up close and
personal with the concave of her abdomen. Especially as he saw her skin twitch
when his warm breath dried the drops of water that clung to the very fine hairs
that preceded their southern cousins. Her toes were brushing against the fine
down that covered his legs and� She was slipping! And she knew it! How could
she not? She was wet and slippery and it would be impossible for Harry to
keep any kind of firm grip on her for any length of time. As her body began to
slide downward, she instinctively dug her fingertips into his shoulders as a
last ditch effort to support herself and maintain Harry�s embrace. Acting on
impulse, she opened her knees and hooked both her legs around the raven-haired
boy�s waist as her palms latched onto his upper arms.

Deciding that he liked Hermione
right where she was, Harry promised himself that she wouldn�t be going anywhere
any time soon.

For Hermione, the initial shock of being so intimately splayed
led to a sexually induced haze as Harry stabilized her by cupping her two
bottom cheeks in each of his large hands. Harry could barely accept the fact
that the most beautiful, sensual, NAKED creature to have ever walked the Earth
was right now warm, pliable and pulled intimately against his unclothed body.

Laughter became swallowed chuckles
as meaningful expressions were exchanged. Only to be renewed by a mutual fit of
giggles.

It was during this second set of giggles that Harry James
Potter deliberately and purposely kissed Hermione Jane Granger for the very
first time. NOT as one friend would kiss another friend. NOT because he was
afraid that pressing his lips to hers what he was supposed to do. His
physical response was definitely NOT as a means of distraction as to avoid
something disastrous. He kissed her because he was happy she was in his arms.
He felt her kiss him back because that was the best way she knew how to tell
him just how happy she was at that moment in time.

Somewhere Hermione had tapped that
enchanted brick that revealed all that was Harry. Somehow the barricade of
self-protection Hermione had erected around herself had been breeched by Harry.
He could feel it. Not because he had laid siege to her psyche or used
subversive tactics. It was more the fact that it was now a matter of NO
unpleasantness, projected false expectations or empty promises lying between
them. In Hermione�s world, kissing Harry Potter was just the most natural thing
to do. He was as sure of that as he knew that the sky was blue and that his
hair would never lay flat.

The kiss was so chaste! Two sets of
lips merged only to pull away as quickly as they came together. Harry opened
eyes he didn�t remember closing to see Hermione�s eyes wide open and looking
intensely into his face.

They kissed again.

They kissed because it was
their moment.

The staccato of raindrops on flora
increased in tempo. Peals of thunder were audibly catching up with the
lightening. Harry had Hermione in an embrace that knew no rival. Again and
again they brought their lips together in rapid succession. Laughter tickled
the back of his throat as the snapping noise of their lips pulling a part
reached his ears. Her response only fuelled and fanned Harry�s confidence. His
kisses grew longer. His tongue strove for the treasures that lurked in the back
of her mouth. He felt Hermione became more ardent in pressing every soft
contour she possessed against his body and his mouth. Very quickly, neither one
of them had the breath for laughter.

Her thighs were spread wide to
maintain her grip around his waist. His hands were interlocked underneath her
bottom to shore her up. Her hands were roaming everywhere � her explorations
only limited by what she could reach: tangling his hair, teasing the nape of
his neck, stroking the base of his throat, massaging his shoulders and lightly
raking his back with her fingernails. Her touch was setting off acres of goose
bumps in the warm rain that fell around them.

Clever girl. She wrested my
advantage without me even realizing that she had done so in the first place.

Pulling back from a particularly
deep kiss, Harry looked up at a face he had seen for years and revelled in what
he saw. Her damp hair hung in waves around her face, shoulders and back. Gone
was the slightly knit look, which had haunted her brow ever since the first
trial of the quest for the Philosopher�s Stone. Her eyes did not have that
poorly veiled look of concern that was always there � in varying degrees �
every time he caught her looking at him when Hermione thought his attention was
elsewhere. Her mouth did not have a quill pressed against it nor was the inside
of her lip being chewed upon while trying to figure something out. Her back was
not bowed with the extra twenty pounds of tomes she carried in addition to her
full complement of schoolbooks.

She wasn�t worrying about him. She
wasn�t focused on her grades. She wasn�t feeling the weight of other students�
glares because she was the most prepared student in any of her classes. There
was no dilemma or nefarious plot threatening anyone she cared about. He was
witnessing a Hermione � unbound. And it was good. It is better than good.

That unnamed feeling SOARED. It was
now reaching the backs of his eyes. Amazement was the best description to come
to Harry as he witnessed Hermione alight with sensual splendour. He was a Seeker
and she was his Snitch � which he now held triumphantly in his arms. The
loudest roaring crowd cheering as the House Cup was being awarded after a hard
fought competition was nothing compared to the rain, thunder, lightening and
the life giving breath they each strove for every time his lips met her
descending mouth.

Harry�s chest was heaving with
exertion but it did not stop him from wanting to reach for breasts that bobbed
so enticingly below her chin. Hermione�s nipples reminded Harry of the
raspberries � still warm from the sun � that he had picked in the backyard of
the Burrow a couple of summers back. He remembered how he had placed a hollow
berry on each of his fingers and proceeded to eat each succulent fruit by its
individual seed. Hermione�s areolas were a deep dusty pink colour and
wonderfully crinkly � just like the wildest raspberry. Perched high on her
upturned breasts, those hardened points grazed his chest as the beautiful girl
in his arms tried to press as much of herself against him as possible. He had
to find out what she tasted like.

Deliberately alternating between
sucking on her passion-swollen lips and stroking the backs of her teeth with
his tongue, Harry drew Hermione into the most prolonged and fervent kiss yet.
Unlocking his hands, he let his fingers slide to the underside of her thighs
and ever so slightly opened her up some more. He wasn�t sure when she realized
he had released her, but the feline-esque purr that vibrated his palates echoed
his own when his erection slid along the rain and arousal slicked path between
the base of her bottom and through the plump folds of her kittie. He smiled and
rested his forehead against hers as his cock slanted against the bundle of
nerves � moored within it�s sheltered cove � as her toes slowly touched the
ground.

A low growl of approval and an
arched back told Harry that lightly stroking her sides on the way to her firm
breasts was definitely a good thing to do. So he did it again. He stopped her
from moving in and prevented her obtaining any more contact with his person. It
was only fair, he told her with his eyes. To himself, he reasoned: she
has had more time to explore me than I have had to learn her body. Now was
the time to make up for his learning curve. Or, better yet � learning
Hermione�s curves.

He used the moisture that coated her
body to travel up and over the indentation of her waist. Fanning his fingers
over her rib cage, he angled his wrists so that his calloused palm caressed the
outside of her breasts. He was surprised and yet pleased to see the contrast
between his tanned hands and the milky expanse of skin he was now affecting
that almost never had been touched by the sun.

Hermione may have made the first
move. She might have kissed him first � back in Fourth Year � at Platform 9 �.
She was definitely the only one he wanted to be pressed against him and
exploring his body � but that was all going to change. Eminently. After all �
it was still his turn.

Chapter
5: Passion�s Maelstrom

Overhead, the third storm of the
night descended on the far side of the valley.

Faster moving and more powerful than
its predecessors, the effects of this squall would have students pressing their
noses to the windowpanes as they were awakened from a heat and humidity-induced
lethargy.

Lightening chased Thunder. Rain and
Wind played a ferocious game of tag. Nature�s on-coming vortex was on a
collision course with a maelstrom of passion generated by two seventeen
year-olds who were drawn together by circumstance, magic and desire.

Fingers made it a hobby to form
rivulets of rainwater to tease the skin. Splayed hands glided over body parts
and committed contours to memory. Kisses paved and smoothed the way to
increased levels of pleasure.

That unnamed feeling pulsed with
power underneath his skin. What ever it was, it was capable of stealing words
from his tongue, robbing him of all modesty and stripping him of any
selfishness.

The grove had no shadows as
thousands of water droplets glowed with living, shimmering silver. Words had no
place on the bank of the lakeshore. Looking down at where his hands came to
rest, Harry knew that adjectives, similes and metaphors would be trite. Modesty
was a substitute for fear. There was nothing to be afraid of: he knew what he
wanted. How could he justify selfishness now that he had been presented with
the most amazing gift of all: the opportunity to love and be loved?

A sensual game of �Do as I Do�
began. Harry mimicked every tender caress Hermione placed on his body. Where
her lips touched his skin, he emulated the amount of time and pressure she
spent. She ran her hands through his sodden hair and raked the nape of his
neck. He wrapped her locks around the back of his hand and fashioned the second
game of the night. Pressing hot, opened mouth kisses to all her pulse points
between the hollow of her throat and the back of her ear, he wanted to see just
how long his heated applications would last before he would have the privilege
of re-warming the same spots. Not that he was a connoisseur of sexual pleasure,
but just because he couldn�t speak did not mean that he was deaf to Hermione�s
moans of approval or blind to the way she twisted her head to offer him
increased access to places that she enjoyed having him touch. Trading the right
side of her neck for the neglected left section coincided with her fingers
reaching around his leg and stroking the most personal area of his inner thigh.

His knees buckled. So did hers. Her
right hand stayed where it was � he caught a glimpse of her left wrist dancing
in the air. Suddenly, the speed of their fall diminished as they both came to
rest on the blanket.

This is dry! Harry�s surprise
did not last long. After all � look at whom I am with! Recalling the
murmuring that was unintelligible earlier now made sense to the dark haired boy.
So THAT was the spell she cast when she snapped her ground covering.

Pushing her shoulders back onto the
softly woven blanket, Hermione�s cushion was the richly piled moss that grew
above the sandy lakeshore. Pressing her hands down when she went to reach for
him, he let her taste a little of the strength his arms possessed when he once
again denied her access. Her eyes flared wickedly as she tested the grip he had
on her wrists. For the moment that is, he promised.

Looking up, he saw the tops of the
trees begin to sway. A telling grip on his forearm brought his gaze to
Hermione�s face � which was transfixed by something going on behind him. The
only thing behind me is the lake, he thought. Craning his neck, he followed
Hermione�s line-of-sight.

The entire surface of the lake
seemed to be rising and falling to the cadence of the wind. There were no
whitecaps transferring their angry, foamy tips across the breadth of the lake.
Instead, he and Hermione watched in awe as great, beautiful crests and troughs
of silver rose, fell and splashed against each other. The effect would be the
same if someone had strewn a million moonstones into the lake only to have the
creamy glow of the stones burst from the water in a sparkling silver upsurge.

Movement caught his right eye.
Hermione had settled her shoulders flat against the blanket. He smiled as she
lifted her neck and tried to free her hair from her collarbones. Releasing her
wrists, Harry leaned forward. Using the pads of his thumbs, he glided over her
mouth, nose, and eyebrows and pushed the rainwater off her face before lifting
her drenched locks from underneath her body and arraying the tendrils on the
ground covering.

There were no words to convey how
her body was aglow from the silver all around them, a language to translate the
expression on her face as she looked up at him, or explain the sensations of
increasingly harder falling pellets of rain running off his back nor the way
the element driven globules made her skin jump as the drops fell on her skin.
That unnamed feeling pressed his fingernails deeper into his cuticles and had
replaced his bright green eyes with the colour of the storm-whipped lake.

Harry felt Hermione�s lesson rush
through his body. Recalling his own words as they pertained to Hermione and
Crookshanks, the lesson was immediately personified. The simple actions of
bestowing the gift of pure pleasure and affection without looking for anything
in return solely because I want to physically manifest the feelings I have for
Hermione.

Prior experience in pleasing a woman
did not exist for Harry Potter. However, he was a Grand Master in the area of
self-gratification. Taking a cue from what pleased him, that was the reference
point he used for Hermione.

Spreading the fingers of one hand
wide, all five tips traced the graceful lines of her throat. Bringing the same
digits together at where her heartbeat could visibly be seen, he twisted his
wrist. Following the midline of her body, the back of his hand only stopped
when her body dipped inward instead of down. Her knees fell slack and the
hinged joints rested flat against the woven ground covering. Her head was
tilted to the side and her mouth had started to form words that the wind flung
to the treetops.

Resurrecting what he enjoyed when he
had the dorm room himself or an empty shower room, Harry lavished on Hermione
all the pleasures he had ever heaped upon his own body. Recalling the sensual
feeling of cool air on his cock, he reached down and spread her nether lips
wide. Her head twisted from side to side as the influx of cool air wafted over
her liquid heat. Not really understanding all the he was looking at, he was
able to cobble together a similarity between his erections and the way Hermione
swelled with the impact of hard, heavy raindrops against her protected cove.
Knowing that he enjoyed the way his hand massaged his balls, he covered her
entire mound and applied pressure. Remembering how good it feels when a wet
thumb circles the head of a flaccid penis, he slid the same digit against the
bundle of nerves that had escaped it�s mooring. Reliving the sensations of
rolling and pulling his own nipples when he slid his own hand up and down his
cock, Harry reached forward and swapped twisting for squeezing as each of
Hermione�s hard peaks were given their sensual due. He exchanged five fingers
for two fingers and treated the girl lying on the blanket to the rhythms that
sent him over the edge time and again.

Momentarily closing his eyes to make sure he got the
sequence correct, Harry looked down and seized Hermione�s centre. He stroked her like he stroked himself:
sliding from the base to the very top, circling the top and squeezing the soft,
pulpy flesh with a firm forefinger and thumb. His other hand was not idle � it
was busy �harvesting� the life-ripened raspberries perched on a pair of
beautiful breasts.

The storm was almost on them; Hermione was thrashing. The
lightening, the thunder, the earth and rain; her cries united the four
elements.

Insight flared as he watched her climb to higher sensual
peaks every time lightening blazed a path across the clouds. That unnamed power
roared with approval as Hermione reacted to Harry pinching a nipple and her
clit at the same time a flash of lightening split the sky. Instinctively, he
pressed down � HARD � on her clit with his whole palm when the thunder rumbled.
The way she pulled on her hair and reached for his body was enough to convey
that she was close to coming undone. Her fingers rolling the twin treasures
encased in their thickening, protective sack told Hermione that Harry was just
strokes away from his own climax.

FLASH! That unnamed feeling
was now talking to him. Pinch her clit, Potter!

RUMBLE! Grind her pussy �
see, she loves it!

Orion�s Eye, Hermione � don�t do
that! Her mind
mastered his contribution to her pleasure and she was now translating it to a
language her hand taught his cock. NOT YET! His body barely heeded the
command not to erupt.

FLASH! FLASH! RUMBLE! FLASH!
RUMBLE!

Pinch! Pinch! Grind! Pinch! Grind!

CRACK!

The sky was rent as a bolt of
lightening pierced the thundercloud that broke over their heads.

Hermione SCREAMED with the onslaught
of sensations that broke over her body.

Harry HOWELED because the unnamed
feeling broke through its chains of restraint as it refused to be caged for
another moment as the woman in Hermione was unleashed.

Rapture in the moment unified the
thunder, lightening, wind, rain, and passion into a maelstrom that was barely
hinted at in the footnotes of the Annuls of Love.

That unnamed feeling that replaced
blood in Harry�s veins was PASSION.

Passion had led him to the
lakeshore. Passion had unveiled the ability to receive and give love. Passion
activated the man inside Harry James Potter.

Swiftly changing position, Harry was
between Hermione�s legs. Pressing his own calves flat against the blanket, he
tugged Hermione to her knees. His legs were slick with rainwater. Her body had
heated the moisture on her skin to a scalding temperature. Spreading her
thighs, he reached for her waist and lifted her so that she could find balance
on her toes. He had her opening lined up with his erection, but this part she
would have to do herself. The passion was all encompassing but not blinding.
Kisses tucked apprehensions aside. Caresses eased trembling limbs. Feeling her
take a deep breath, Harry made good on his promise to sample Hermione�s
raspberries.

Looking up from where he had one
nipple stretched between her breast and his teeth, he heard the growl of
clashing lions just as another sequence of lightening fired the sky. Biting
down, he felt Hermione�s heat kiss his cock. Switching to her other nipple, he
pulled on the ends of her hair that trailed down her back. Letting her lean
back just a bit, Harry used the hand tangled in her hair to support her while
he snaked his other hand between their wet bodies.

FLASH! Pinch.

Rumble! Grind.

Lips came together. Abdomens pressed
together. Harry inhaled when he could as her wet breast sealed his nose time
and again.

FLASH! FLASH! FLASH! Pinch.
Pinch. Pinch.

Oh Holy Merlin!

She was all the way down � he was
fully imbedded in her. His fingers were still gripped around her clit; her
nipple had slipped from his mouth. Her mouth was wide open and he could see
when she swallowed the falling rain. Rising and crashing down as the wind
whipped their hair in every direction, the full-fledged fury of the storm had
arrived.

She looked down at him from her
perch. Shifting a hand from his shoulder where she braced herself against her
undulations, she yanked the hand from her kittie. Pulling his wrinkled fingers
to her mouth, he watched as she ran her tongue � in one continuous swipe � from
the base of his palm to the top of his middle finger. Incapable of slowing
down, it was all Harry could do to clap his hand together with hers and
intertwine their fingers. Let alone have the ability to repeat the same action.

He felt her toes brace themselves
against the underside of his thighs. He wondered how she was going to continue
if she kept leaning back the way she did � until he felt her strength press
against his palms as she began to post with more intensity. He was thrusting
harder than before because just as she pushed against him, he could press against
her and they would both find the necessary leverage pushing against each other.
The brightest witch of our age is also the most cunning lover of our age.

His hair was whipped in every
direction. Her hair was streaming in the direction of the wind. Harry watched
rain drip from every part of both their bodies. She was rising and falling in
direct opposition to his thrusts. Their hands were at shoulder height and they
clung to each other as much as they used each other for purchase.

He lapped in earnest at the steady
flow of rainwater off Hermione�s breasts. He groaned into those sopping
raspberries when her posting took on a more circular pattern and he felt her
scalding heat against the seam that ran up his scrotum and separated his balls.
His eyelashes were spiky with the rain that clumped them together. He could see
the underside of Hermione�s jaw as her head was thrown back. He could feel the
rainwater that ran off the ends of her hair as it dripped on his knees. He tasted
his own sweat as the boiling in his sack reached the same fervour as the kisses
her kittie gave his cock. Somewhere, the smell of the lake merged with the
scent of the forest only to become one with the aroma of love. Every sound had
its own identity as much as it was fused with the cacophony of the storm and
their passion.

Harry had no more time for thought.
The passion inside him had put a mantra in his head that was impossible to
overcome: thrust, thrust, thrust! Hermione�s breasts were bouncing so hard that
they started to take on an elliptical course. Her fingers spread. His hand
opened to lock her into place.

CRACK! Simultaneously,
lightening challenged thunder for supremacy.

CRACK! Grappling with
the very foundations of the earth, neither giant was going to back down.

C R A C K! ! A clash of wills between giants
that have been around since the birth of the world took place as two seventeen
year-olds made love.

A tree branch was severed to their
right and crashed to the forest floor. Somewhere to their left Harry heard a
great rock splash in to the lake � it�s stabilizing soil washed away by the
torrential rains that fell from the sky. Behind them, great upsurges of silver
cast silver sparkles into the air, as the droplets of living, shimmering silver
took longer to fall into the churning water.

Hermione came undone with a cry that
not only shook her body but vibrated the more than six feet that made up Harry.
A near sob broke from Harry�s chest as his head swept from side to side when
the intensity of his orgasm launched him upright. He pulled Hermione�s body
tightly against his thrumming, trembling person.

The storm that had ravaged the countryside
was THEIR STORM. THEY, they were the storm. What had been waiting on change was
directly linked to Harry and Hermione. Denial, sidestepping, faked ignorance
and all the other pretences they presented to each other and the worlds they
lived in had stifled the very air that they breathed. Passion, desire, true
friendship, respect, love, lust, separation, anxiety and need are all volatile
ingredients unto themselves. But coupled with longing, denial, forbiddance and
fear � the meaning of the word volatile becomes the understatement for
explosive.

That was the last cognizant thought
Harry had as the storm slackened around he and Hermione. There was no more room
for thought as he wiped tears of joy from his love�s face.

Joyous giggles � apparently boys
DO giggle! � accompanied him loosing his balance toppling over with
Hermione onto her blanket. Kisses were the best apologies he knew for breaking
their intimate connection.

Pausing from kissing for just a
moment, Harry had the strength to manage a wry smile when Hermione promised,
�Next time, it is your turn Mr. Potter.�
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Undeniable

Chapter3

Chapter
3