Abandon | By : LadyOscar2 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 16676 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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. |
Disclaimer: Everything related to Harry Potter belongs
to JK Rowling. I’m only borrowing it for a while =P.
* * * * * *
She hadn’t meant for this to happen. She had only
approached him as a friend, and somehow things had turned into what they were
now… And she didn’t even have a tag to use with that “now” they had.
It had started one rainy night. Harry had arrived home
quite late, drenched and covered in mud. She’d been reading in the living room,
although she was actually waiting for him, to make sure he got home well.
Hermione had been living with Harry for two months,
after her house had caught fire in a strange accident –she was sure it had been
intentional, but all investigations to find a culprit hadn’t come up with
anything to prove it– and she had found herself homeless. Harry, who lived
alone in that huge and cold house that was Grimmauld Place, had offered her to stay,
until she found something else. She knew that two months were more than enough
time to find another a place to live, but she didn’t want to leave Harry alone
now that she had the chance to be with him.
Harry had changed a lot since their time at school. After
all that had happened with Voldemort, the search for the horcruxes, the war and
all its deaths, he’d turned colder and distant. In the surface, he was still
Harry —her noble, good hearted best friend. But he’d built a wall between
himself and the rest of the world. He didn’t show much emotion anymore, and his
cool calm façade was quite disturbing for the people who knew him well. Even
though they’d tried, neither Ron nor Hermione had been able to talk to him
about it, and they had just continue like that, watching his best friend turn
into a loner.
She stared at him as he stepped inside the house, hung
his cloak in the entrance and took his dirty boots off. Hermione knew that
Harry had been working on some big case with the Auror department, but he
hadn’t been very generous with the details.
“Do you want me to make some tea?” she asked, and
Harry looked up, slightly startled to see her there.
“No, thanks. I think I’ll just go upstairs and get some sleep,” he
said. Hermione then noticed his left hand was bandaged.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, don’t worry,” he said in a detached tone and
disappeared up the stairs.
Hermione knew him well enough to see beyond his
straight face. She knew that he was shaken, that something had happened… Years
ago she would have forced him to tell her, but the Harry that had managed to
survive the war wasn’t keen on anyone prying in his life.
She considered going to her bedroom and get some sleep
too, knowing that it was pointless to dwell about Harry’s problems when he
didn’t want to share them with her. But, after tossing in the bed over and over
again, she gave in to her instincts and walked towards Harry’s room.
She opened the door softly. Harry was standing by the
window, his hands covering his face. Hermione couldn’t leave him like that, so
even if it meant she would have to face his rejection, or even his anger, she
stepped in his room, closing the door behind her and went to stand beside him.
Hesitantly, she lifted her hand and put it on his
right arm. When he didn’t pull away, she started rubbing his arm, his shoulder,
slowly and tenderly. Finally, Harry removed his hands from his face and turned
to look at her.
Hermione looked into his green eyes, which were clear
enough even in the darkness of the room, and saw deep pain and exhaustion. It
was the first time in years she had seen such a clear emotion in his eyes, and
she gasped with surprise. She felt her own eyes starting to water when Harry
suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace.
He had never done that.
She let him crush her. She wanted to say something,
anything to calm him down, but the words had left her. She could feel his hot
breath next to her ear, and noticed he was shaking.
“Harry…” she whispered faintly, but wasn’t able to say
anything else.
It had been that moment, she realized now, when they had
lost all sense of reality.
Because, all of the sudden, Hermione felt Harry’s head
moving a little, and before she could even process what was happening, his lips
were on hers. They felt dry, but all the same very warm. Hermione didn’t know
what she was doing, what they were doing, but she didn’t hesitate much
before opening her mouth under his. Harry’s tongue invaded her, tangling with
hers. It was a kiss filled with urgency, and it left her breathless.
Hermione kissed him with abandon, closing her mind to
every rational thought. She didn’t stop to consider this was his best friend,
that they had a strictly platonic relationship, that this would turn everything
into a mess… He felt his hand in the small of her back, under her pajama shirt.
The contact of his skin with hers made her shiver, and she silently begged that
he wouldn’t stop.
Harry stopped kissing her mouth and moved to her jaw,
leaving a trail of kisses and moved to her neck. He wasn’t gentle, but he
wasn’t forceful enough to hurt her. Hermione let out a soft gasp, and her hands
seemed to acquire a life of their own when they sneaked under his shirt, which
was covered in mud, and started to caress his stomach and back.
He let out a sigh, and his own hands sneaked under her
pajama top, trailing her back, moving to her front, and cupping one of her bare
breasts. His touch was amazing… she hardly believed what they were doing, and
could only arch her back to give him more access.
And then, he stopped. She felt a pang of
disappointment and opened her eyes, expecting to see a look of regret and
realization on his face. But that wasn’t what she saw. Instead, she found
Harry’s eyes staring into hers intensely, telling her something she didn’t
understand, at least not at the moment. She knew that it was her chance to
speak up, to ask him what was happening, to try and make some sense of this.
But she didn’t want to think. And she knew that he
didn’t either, when one second later he took off his shirt, then hers, and
resumed kissing her, with the same needy force he’d used before.
The last coherent thought Hermione had was that Harry
probably needed this; he needed to feel, to forget whatever it was that had
happened that night. And what kind of best friend would she be if she didn’t
help him?
She pressed her body to his,
silently telling him that she was okay with whatever he wanted and felt his
reaction pressing in her stomach. Harry was now kissing the valley between her
breasts, and was pushing her towards the bed. Hermione let herself fall, and
when he laid on top of her, she moved her hands
through his back until she reached the waistband of his pants. She opened his
belt and sneaked her hand in to touch his arse.
Harry groaned and moved his mouth to one of her
breasts, taking the hard nipple in his mouth. Hermione moaned loudly and
squeezed him harder, unconsciously grinding her hips into his erection.
He moved to the other breast, but this time was more
impatient, and while he lavished her nipple, his hand moved inside her pajama
pants, and touched her through her knickers.
Hermione couldn’t control herself anymore, and started
pushing his pants out of the way. Whatever it was that Harry needed, she now
needed it too. Harry helped her, and once he was fully naked, he yanked her own
pants and underwear with a violent move. He stared at her body briefly, his
expression unreadable. It occurred to Hermione that she should be at least a
little embarrassed to be so exposed in front of him… She had always felt shy in
front of the very few lovers she’d had… But there was no space in that
situation to feel shame. She had never been so dazed before.
Harry muttered something she didn’t get and kissed her
again, his tongue exploring every bit of her mouth. His hand moved slowly to
her legs. Hermione wasn’t expecting him to take too much time exploring,
sensing that he wanted release as soon as possible. She wasn’t mistaken. Harry caressed
lightly the inside of her thighs and then moved to her folds. He pushed one
finger inside her, making her moan and tighten her grip on his shoulders. He
inserted a second finger, and she knew that it wasn’t necessary; she was very wet
and more than ready for him.
She moved her hand to his front, until she found what
she was looking for. He was very hard, and let out a strangled hiss when she
closed her hand around his erection, stroking it a few times until neither of
them could take it anymore, and with a very brief pause, Harry settled himself
between her legs and plunged into her in a swift motion.
Hermione could have cried at the sensation of having
him filling her like that, but her voice had long ago left her. She closed her
eyes and drowned into what he was making her feel. Harry started moving, slowly
at first and then increased his pace. His strokes were deep and strong, as if
he was trying to shove all his energy inside her. Hermione opened her legs as
far as she could to give him more access, and he took advantage of it. He moved
like a man possessed, groaning with each stroke, and she lifted her hips to
meet him every time. Harry grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight, and that
sent her over the edge. She climaxed with a strangled cry and Harry followed
her soon, buring his face on her shoulder.
They stayed like that for a long time, which seemed
like an eternity to Hermione. She slowly started to regain her senses. She
didn’t know what she had done, what had happened… She had just wanted to comfort
him, and then he…
She couldn’t see his face, because he still had it
buried in the crook of her neck. He was breathing heavily, as much as she was,
but she sensed that, in his case, it wasn’t just because of the recent events.
Again, she’d guessed right when she felt something wet
on her shoulder and realized he was crying. Hermione had never seen Harry cry…
Feeling an overwhelming emotion, she stroked his hair and let him sob, trying
to stay calm and steady for him.
Five minutes passed, and finally Harry calmed himself
down. He slowly lifted his head, and Hermione looked into his eyes, wondering
if she would find something in there that would help her understand what had
just happened.
“Don’t say anything,” she said when he opened his
mouth to speak. “Please, just… let’s stay like this, okay?”
He complied, and kissed her on the lips. Then, he
distangled himself from her, and laid by her side,
drifting to sleep only moments later, under Hermione’s soft caresses.
* * *
When she woke up next morning, she was alone in the
bed. With the light that the day offered, she looked around the room, noticing
the mess they’d made. Her clothes were still scattered in the floor, and she
realized that the white sheets were tainted with mud, obviously from Harry. Her
own skin was quite dirty.
She got up, put her pajamas on, and slowly got out of
the room. She was extremely nervous, not knowing what would happen when she
faced Harry again. They would have to talk about what had happened, and she
didn’t know what to say or what to think about last night. Did Harry regret it?
Did he think it was a mistake? Had it ruined their friendship? Did he feel
something more for her or had it been just something of the moment?
And how did she feel about it? She didn’t know. She’d
never had sex with someone who wasn’t her official boyfriend before. She would’ve
never thought she would end up having a one night stand (was it just that?)
with Harry, of all people. She’d never been attracted to him that way, or at
least that’s what she’d always made herself believe…
She took a long shower, dreading to go downstairs,
where Harry could be having breakfast, waiting for her to discuss what had
happened. But when she couldn’t avoid it anymore, she finally gathered her
courage and went to the kitchen.
It was empty. Harry had left already. She didn’t know
what to make of that. She was kinda relieved, but at the same time, slightly
disappointed.
* * *
All day, she couldn’t concentrate much on work. People
would talk to her and she would just return a dazed look or a half-hearted
“hmmm?”. Thankfully, they all thought she was just
tired, which was quite possible considering she was famous for being a
workaholic.
She stayed at St. Mungo’s much longer than she needed
too. She hated having to feel nervous about facing Harry; this wasn’t supposed
to happen between them. She didn’t want it like that. She wanted to be like
they always had been: at ease around each other.
And she was so confused about the whole thing… She had
tried not to think about what they had done,
focusing only on the consequences. But the truth was she couldn’t forget the
feeling of his hands over his body, the taste of his mouth, the sound of his
breathing… She blushed remembering how hard it had been to hide the marks on
her neck. It had all been so strange and arousing…
And the memory of Harry crying on her shoulder
afterwards was what bothered her the most. On one hand, she was glad that he
had finally shown some emotion, and that he had shown it to her made her feel a
little special. But what was causing him so much pain that had pushed him to
the edge like that?
She arrived to Grimmauld Place and had to take a few
deep breaths before going inside. She knew that Harry was there, because she saw
his cloak in the entrance. She heard noises coming from the kitchen and made
her way towards it.
Harry was pouring some firewhisky in two glasses. For
a brief moment, Hermione thought that one was for her, until he turned around
and she realized he wasn’t expecting her to be there.
“Hermione,” he said, blinking. “It’s so late, I thought you wouldn’t be coming home tonight.”
She was so surprised at his comment that for a second,
she didn’t know what to say. It was true that sometimes she spent the night at
the hospital, but she wasn’t expecting that those words would be the first
thing he said to her when they faced each other again.
She looked at the two glasses in Harry’s hands and
said, in the same neutral tone he had used: “I had some things I needed to
finish.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Are you with someone? I don’t
want to bother you. I’m quite tired, so I’ll just go to my room.”
Harry stared at her, as if he didn’t understand what
she meant. He was about to say something, when another voice interrupted him.
“Hermione! We were wondering what was taking you so long!”
Hermione turned around and saw that Ron had just
entered in the kitchen, grinning.
“Ron, hi,” she greeted, and couldn’t help but notice
that she was a little relieved that it was him who was with Harry.
Ron grabbed one of the glasses Harry was holding and
kissed Hermione on the cheek. After they’d dated when they were 18, they were a
lot more comfortable with that kind of contact that they’d been before.
“Do you want one?” Harry offered, raising his own
glass. Hermione nodded and followed Ron towards the living room.
Ron did most of the talking. Harry was silently
sipping his drink, and Hermione was impressed at how normal it all felt. It was
as if nothing had ever happened between them. Harry just treated her like he
always had, and when their eyes met, there was nothing in his that let her know
he acknowledged that only the night before they’d been shagging passionately.
She started to think that all had been just a dream.
But the marks in her body weren’t just her imagination.
When Ron left, much later, she wondered if the time to
talk had come. She watched Harry, who walked their friend to the door, went
back to the living room, grabbed the empty glasses and took them to the
kitchen. No words were spoken.
She followed him, biting her lip and trying to come up
with the best way to bring the subject up. They hadn’t been able to talk with
Ron there, but surely now Harry was going to say something... She watched him wash
the glasses and put them inside the cabinet. He dried his hands and turned to
face her.
“I’m so tired,” he said yawning. “Today was very busy
at work. I think I’ll go to bed.” He approached her and kissed her on the
cheek, and then walked towards the stairs.
Hermione stared at his back, dumbfounded. “Wait!”
He turned around, and looked at her with a raised
eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“I…” Hermione found herself
unable to speak. How could he be so calm? It was as if he had forgotten about
it. Nothing in his face or actions betrayed him. Maybe she was the only one who
was worrying over nothing. If he didn’t care, why should she? “Nevermind. Good night.”
* * *
Hermione had started to fall asleep, when the door of
her room opened. She stayed still, knowing it had to be Harry. Maybe he had
decided to talk, after all?
She felt his weight on the mattress, and turned around
to look at him. Harry was sitting on the bed, staring at her in a way that made
her skin crawl, because it was the same look he’d given her the night before,
when they were about to have sex.
“Harry, what armph phmd…” He’d cut her off by leaning
over her and kissing her hard, very much like he’d done the previous night.
At first, Hermione thought about resisting, but when
his hand started rubbing her through her knickers she gave in. She didn’t
understand what was Harry doing or why he had acted so normal before, only to come
later to her, in a way that shouldn’t be between best friends that were living
together because of circumstances…
Soon he had stripped her and was taking off his own clothes.
Hermione felt betrayed by her body… she was so aroused… but she shouldn’t be,
she had to talk to Harry, she couldn’t do this again, she… oh, his tongue was suddenly on her belly, sneaking in her belly
button and then moving lower… No one had ever done that to her before. But Harry didn’t even stop to ask if she was
okay with it, and his face was already between her legs, his mouth so close to
her center that she could feel his breath teasing her.
She cried out loud when he plunged his tongue inside her
folds, and started licking in earnest. The feeling was amazing, and Hermione
wondered between pants who had taught Harry so well. He nibbled, sucked and
kissed her point of pleasure, working two fingers inside of her. She was
shaking uncontrollably, trying to muffle her cries with her hand, because she
had never been comfortable with being loud during sex. But Harry was making it really hard to remain silent.
He held one of her legs strongly, to stop her from
moving too much, opening her more to his wonderful tongue. At that point,
Hermione wasn’t thinking about talking things over anymore, she just wanted to
feel all of him inside her.
She came with a shudder, and she could have cried at
the feeling of release and satisfaction. Harry lapped at her for a little
while, and then crawled up until his face was at level with hers. At some point
he had removed his glasses, but his eyes were staring at her firmly. She lifted
her head and kissed him, tasting herself in his mouth.
She wanted more, she wanted him to claim her again. At
the time, she didn’t care about his reasons, or if it was just sex…
Harry stood on his knees above her and grabbed her
legs, placing them on his lap. Hermione felt his erection between her folds and
unconsciously grinded her hips to take more of him. Harry groaned and gave her
what she wanted. They both moaned when he buried himself inside her. At that
position, he could take her as fast as he wanted, and by the wild look in his
eyes, we was about to do that.
He grabbed her hips to steady her and started moving
inside her at top speed. If Hermione didn’t know better, she would have thought
he hadn’t had sex in months and was too desperate to take it slow. She didn’t
mind, he wasn’t rough enough to make her feel any pain, and only increased her
pleasure.
“Harry,” she moaned, the
first word she had said in their two encounters.
Hearing her voice seemed to make Harry aware of
something and he slowed his pace a little. Hermione stared at his face, and saw
that he was very concentrated. She had never seen Harry with such an
expression, joy mixed with pain, and she wondered if it was a reflection of
hers. He leaned over her and lifted her upper body, so she was at his same
level. Now they were both on their knees, but it was Harry the one holding most
of Hermione’s weigh on his lap. He never stopped moving inside her, and now she
could move more freely, so she made sure to fasten the pace until they were
both panting heavily, kissing in between their moans. Harry was stroking her
breasts, and Hermione threw her head back when she had her second orgasm. She
didn’t stop moving until he spent himself inside her.
Again, they snuggled together, both too tired to say
anything. Hermione wanted to ask him what was the meaning of this, but somehow
she knew that she wouldn’t get a straight answer from him.
Not that night, at least.
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