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Forever Knight	By : AdamantEve Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 15409 -:- 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
- 1
- 2
- 3
Author�s
notes: Lots of smut.

Standard
disclaimers apply. I don�t think JKR
would be very happy with me if she read this.
I think she�d be a bit miffed that I�ahem�took such liberties with Harry
and Hermione. But goodness, they�re
rebelling, I tell you! Rebelling!

Chapter rating: NC-17.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PART
ONE - Sunrise

Chapter
First: Rain

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FIVE YEARS AGO�

It might have been the rain; the tears of the sky soaking
into her clothes and touching her skin.

The water was a torrent of cold, thick droplets, but her eyes
were warm orbs of honey and gold; her pale lips, quivering with chill, were
nevertheless plump and glistening. Her breathing was heavy, as if she had
been running, and the rise and fall of her chest called attention to the curved
mound of flesh within the unbuttoned top of her shirt.

He recalled the day: the 30^th of July; the eve
of his birthday.

Before her unexpected arrival, Harry had been lying in
bed, looking at the ceiling of his room as he followed the waterline on the
paint. It left his mind free to think about the previous year; how odd it
had been in every way; how horribly it ended. How he had spent most of
the year alone; neglected by his best friends.

Occasionally, the rumble of thunder outside would get his
attention and he would think that the skies should have raged the night Albus Dumbledore died.

Freak summer storms weren�t unheard of, and perhaps,
wallowing in the grief of Dumbledore�s death, he welcomed the dreary
auspiciousness of the rain.

But for the pelting of droplets on the roof and the steady
stream of water outside his window, number 4 Privet Drive was silent.

He had looked at his battered bedside clock. It had
read 11:33 pm. In another half-hour he would be seventeen years
old, and he would forever leave the home he had hated.

Somehow, he found very little joy in the prospect.
His grief threatened to overcome him every second he spent alone, but the
thought of leaving this wretched house, free to find affable company among the
wizards, hadn�t filled him with the anticipation he expected.

Eyes stinging, he fought back his tears.

Tears were for the weak. Tears were for
quitters. He was a Gryffindor. His courage should see him
through.

The tears persisted and he wiped them away with a fierce
swipe of his hand.

What did the world want from him, anyway? A slip of a boy like him,
loved by no one but supposedly loved by everyone? Sirius was a heartbreak. Dumbledore was the shattering of the
spirit. It was like he was being taken
apart piece by piece. And now this
isolated summer where no one cared. No
one understood.

Ron and Hermione wrote.
Of course they did, and he�d written back a bit, but what did either of
them know about grief?

Ron had prattled on about his happy family and the pranks
Fred and George pulled; he even mentioned something about writing to Hermione
about something important. The �you
know�� Harry did not know. Or he didn�t
want to know. Ron could be such a prat sometimes.

Hermione had sounded more sensitive, as usual, and she
constantly told him to call her on the telephone if he needed something;
anything. Her letters would always have
her telephone number at the bottom.
Sometimes, he would consider giving her a call; just to tell her that he
missed her company, and that maybe they could meet somewhere to get something
to eat, but the thought that he�d have to explain to her everything that was
going on in his head felt tiring in the extreme.

Thinking about it all, he felt so completely and utterly
alone.

More tears fell and he thumped the back of his hand on his
forehead, almost like punishment.

It was during this brief struggle that a pebble flew in
from his open window.

He frowned, confused, and then he heard the whisper of a
euphemized curse. Like one of those, �Darn be all things ruddy!�

He could hardly believe it, so he rushed to the window
without thinking.

On retrospect, he should have been more careful.
Moody certainly would have disapproved. It could have been anyone outside
his window. It could have been a Death Eater, and he might have lost his
head the moment he stuck it out, but he knew that voice; trusted it implicitly,
and he had no fear.

And there she was gingerly picking through the
bushes.

�Hermione?� he called in as loud a voice as he could
manage without waking the entire household.

She looked up and their eyes met in the dimness.

She smiled and normally, it would have lifted his
spirits. But not tonight.

�Door,� he mouthed, pointing towards the front porch
beneath his window.

She nodded and turned to proceed.

He left the window and made his way to his bedroom door, setting the chair that
barred it aside. As he stuck his head out in the hallway, he looked left
and right, and carefully, he made his way to the landing. His climb down
the stairs was swift, expertly avoiding the creaky steps and treading with
light feet. He wore no slippers and the socks helped. He didn�t
make a sound and the house continued to sleep.

When he got to the door, he unlocked it and held it
open.

There she was drenched from head to feet. Her
abundant brown hair was plastered to her in curly ringlets; her light summer
clothing clung to her skin. The small rucksack that hung from her
shoulder was limp with water.

He could see her bra through her white blouse, maroon
against her skin, but strangely enough, it was her eyes and lips and breathing
that caught his gaze, held in a jumble of confused feelings.

Their eyes met for the second time and he couldn�t pull
himself away from them, until she blinked and broke the spell.

�Can I--?� She gestured into the house.

It was then it finally occurred to him to ask her
in. He did and she crossed the threshold, dripping all over his Aunt
Petunia�s immaculate carpet.

He closed the door behind her and they stood in the
hallway, regarding one another. He wasn�t sure what to make of her
presence there. He wasn�t even sure he wanted company right now.

She brought out her wand and muttered a drying spell on
herself.

For a moment, he wanted to warn her of under-aged magic,
but then he realized that she was seventeen now; had been seventeen since last
September, and that she had probably even apparated
from wherever it was she came from.

Grown-up Hermione, legal in the Wizarding World.

Her clothes unstuck themselves from her and the ringlets
of her hair sprung back to life. Color returned to her cheeks, though she
still gave a shudder. She dried her rucksack, and it looked good as new
again.

She was strangely attractive in the darkness.

Harry heard that girls looked so much prettier in dim
lighting. Hid the imperfections, they said. But he couldn�t exactly
recall what imperfections she had as she stood there, the darkness waxing her
lovely.

He took a moment to wonder whether he should be thinking
such thoughts about her before he realized he wasn�t really bothered by
it. So what if he thought she was attractive? She was a girl.
He was a boy. So what if they were best friends?

Looking back on the last school year, they hadn�t been
very good friends, anyway.

He missed her. She hadn�t been her. Maybe he
hadn�t been much of himself, either.

She looked up at him, and he realized that he still didn�t
know what to make of her.

�Alright, Harry?� she asked softly.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the subtle scent of her
perfume. Funny how it hadn�t washed away in the rain.
He wondered if he should lie to her.

�How do you think I am?� The reply came unbidden in an
equally soft voice. There was no harshness in his tone, but perhaps his
eyes had conveyed bitterness.

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting slightly.
�You�ll be seventeen in half an hour. I thought you might like some
company.�

She ran her hand uncomfortably to the back of her neck,
caressing her nape before resting her knuckles on her collarbone.

When she looked up again, she was apologetic. �I
just wanted to know if you were alright.�

He tore his gaze from her, letting his eyes wander to the
darkness of the house. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his tattered
cargo pants, he shrugged.

He�d had better nights than this, but he didn�t feel like
explaining that. There was too much to
tell and he hadn�t the strength right now.

He met her gaze again and he was completely unprepared for
the deep concern he found there. His eyes watered suspiciously and he
fought the tears. He won, but she had seen.

Her hands came up to cup his face and but for a moment of
surprise, realization surged and he knew what he wanted. She didn�t need for him to explain, and for
that he was grateful to her. What her
eyes told him of what she was willing to do, he didn�t even question. He
let her, because he was sliding his hands around her hips. She tilted her
face up and he lowered his lips on hers.

They were kissing; his hands running up her back before he
buried them in the mass of her hair; her arms snaking over his shoulders while
she raked her fingers in his wild, untamable strands.

Her lips were soft, moist and warm. When he parted
them open with his tongue, she met it with her own. The slow, rhythmic
movements of their mouths made his head spin and a groan rose from his
throat.

She pressed her body against his and he held her tighter
in his embrace.

Hermione.

Her name pulsed in his mind, but there were no questions; not
while the intensity of the kiss began to awaken his body. He felt her
breasts pressing against his chest and he hardened in an instant.

No questions.

Her hands were running along the hem of his shirt,
slipping underneath it to touch the skin of his waist. She would
encounter way too much boxer shorts, as Dudley�s cargos were too big for him and
they hung low on his hips.

She showed no hint of minding as her fingers dipped
beneath his boxers� garter-belt and ran along it tentatively, almost as if she
were asking permission. The sensation of her fingers jolted every nerve
he had there and below.

He hissed, his erection straining against his
trousers.

He pulled away from her but took her hand, leading her
through the hall and up the stairs. She stepped on the creaks, but he
didn�t care. She wasn�t going to wake anybody. The rain outside was a
steady, lulling noise.

Pulling her into his room, he shut them in.

She dropped her rucksack without a thought and leaned
against the door, grabbing him towards her. She caught his mouth with hers as
she pushed off his track jacket.

His lips traveled to her throat and she made a breathy
little sound as he whipped the jacket off. Her hands were on his shirt
and she tugged the hem upward, getting him out of it.

He realized then that she was still fully clothed and he
wasn�t going to stand for it. He unbuttoned the rest of her blouse
revealing the bra that had earlier been veiled by white.

Her skin was a bit chilly, but he warmed it with his
hands, his palms pressing around her waist, her flat stomach and then her
breasts. She leaned back against the door, eyes closed and moaning.
She was lovely to behold.

It amazed him to see her like this; so desirable. The idea that he could ever want Hermione
Granger this way had never crossed his mind until now, but perhaps that was
only because she never endeavored to show him that she could make him want
her.

The notion that this lovely, seductive woman had sprung
out of nowhere was preposterous. This
woman must have always been inside Hermione, just that she never chose to show
it until now, and that made him heady with longing. Why only now?
Why had she wasted so much time casting his attentions somewhere
else? He would have welcomed this side
of her. He would have wanted to sigh
into her hair; watch the graceful folds of her robes cling to her figure; look
at her smile and think he wanted her lips pliable against his.

These thoughts were driving him mad, though his singular
purpose remained: Want her now. Need her
now.

He kissed her as he undid her belt. The buckle was a
bit complicated, the brown leather inlaid with feminine pink flowers, but she
helped him without need of request. She wanted out of her trousers just
as badly as he did.

With the belt undone, he whipped the buttons and zipper of
her jeans open, pulling them down as he knelt in front of her. There was
all this skin he had to taste, and she was delicious.

Several more minutes of skin desperately on skin, they
were both undressed, and he hitched her against the wall as her legs wrapped
around his hips.

He didn�t have the largest room in the world, and an easy
turn had them both on his bed. Beneath him, she felt even softer, and for
a brief moment, he stared down at her in wonder.

Her impassioned eyes met his, her swollen lips parted to
let her hot breath escape.

He was going to say something. He wasn�t sure what,
but he motioned to speak. Her fingers
touched his lips delicately.

�Shush,� she breathed. �Don�t say anything.
Just take it, Harry. Just take me. Don�t say anything.�

It didn�t seem right, that he would take without asking;
without even telling her that he wasn�t sure exactly what he felt about
her. But she seemed to know that his thoughts and feelings were a jumble,
and she was giving him what he needed anyway.

The warmth of her was a balm to the chilling cold of his
night, so it was difficult to deny her offer.

He dropped his lips upon hers, slow and tender. He
didn�t know what else to do to make her understand that he at least wanted to
take care of her in this. She took care of him all the time; he could
only do so much to return the favor.

This was all very new to him, at any rate. He had
never touched a woman like this.

Ginny had been all about soft undemanding kisses, light
groping and tender teases. He had been new to that as well; she had been
a gentle teacher. But they were together for too short a time. He
didn�t get the chance to be taught more. He didn�t know if she knew more.

Hermione seemed to know more.

How, he wasn�t sure if he wanted to find out.

She touched him, holding him in her hands with firm,
rhythmic strokes. He buried his face in the crook of her shoulder and neck,
groaning as he pressed his hips back and forth to a responsive motion.

Carefully, Hermione took his hand and lowered his fingers
to her center. She made him touch and her wetness was intensely
arousing. She whispered some kind of explanation; that this meant she was
ready for him.

He slid his digits inside her, to experiment, and she
moaned her approval. He was eager to hear the sound again, but she
breathed more words.

�Later,� she said. �We�ll do all that later.�

Later.
He was
ecstatic at the thought that there would be more; that now she
just wanted him inside her.

It wasn�t something he could argue. It was something
he probably wanted even more than she did. So he did enter her, and he
heard a soft cry from her throat.

He was sorry for the pain, so he kissed her, and kissed
her, because he was moving now, and it was too good to stop.

Her nails were digging into his shoulders, but she wasn�t
pushing him away. Her legs were wrapping tighter around him and her hips
began to thrust back.

He couldn�t even comprehend how amazing it felt.

Those many, adolescent nights when he�d touched himself
hadn�t come close to the sensations he was experiencing now, and as she lay
pinned beneath him, she was all his fantasies come true.

It didn�t take long.
By some instinct, he wanted to hold back, but the smooth stroking; the
sound of her moans and that desperate way she told him to move just like that was his undoing. He came quicker than he
would have wanted, and it was glorious.

When he was spent, the realization that he hadn�t been
successful at bringing her to climax crept into his consciousness and he felt
horribly embarrassed. He began to stammer an apology, but she pressed her
fingers to his lips again, and she smiled.

�Don�t think about that now,� she said softly. �That
was for you. We�ll do this again in a
little while, and it�ll be wonderful. I promise.�

He thought maybe he was a randy little bastard to be so
inwardly excited by her words. He wasn�t ready to try again so soon, but he
was determined to get her to feel what he just felt.

And so when he stirred from his fifteen minute nap and the
mere nudge of her rear against his cock sent him into instant readiness, he
administered what little he had learned that night. He reached in front
of her while their bodies were spooned and dipped his fingers inside her.

She gasped and fidgeted at his touch, but when he began to
stroke, she let out a heavy moan.

�Tell me how,� he whispered in her ear as he bit the lobe
of it lightly.

She shuddered and she did tell him; not exactly how, as she was finding
difficulty in forming coherent sentences, but she managed to get the message
across with short words, and minutes later, breathing ragged, he was down upon
her, tasting all that was her and wondering why he hadn�t thought about doing
this in the first place.

Well, he reasoned with himself. I wasn�t exactly prepared to see
her outside my window, wanting in. I wasn�t prepared to find her so
vulnerable and desirable on the Dursleys� front
steps. I hadn�t expected that she would be such a fantastic kisser�

When she gave a soft sort of wail, her teeth digging into
her lip and her body arching, he saw Hermione Granger climax for the first
time. It was beautiful to behold; or maybe there was a deep satisfaction
to be found in watching a woman like her come completely undone.

He had learned something, coaxing her to come like
that. So when he thrust into her, he applied his new knowledge, finding
it easier to hold back because of his earlier release. It was fascinating
to watch the responses on her face, and he studied her. Shallow strokes
followed by deep ones, she seemed to like it immensely, if the sound of her
moans were any indication. He searched her eyes for confirmation and the glimmer
of desire he found in them told him enough.

Harry and Hermione; always communicating with these looks.

But wouldn�t it be fun; arousing, to ask just this
once?

He asked her if she liked what he was doing in a soft,
teasing drawl. Her response was a mixture of moan and words.

Yes, she had said.

Don�t stop doing that, she had breathed.

Knowing he was doing so well did more for him than the
sensations running from his cock to his entire body. There was merit to
this pillow talk.

Her hands came up to clutch at his hair and she began to
plead softly.

Faster and harder, she was saying, and Harry complied readily, because
pleasing her seemed to make it feel better for him.

He found that he was in dire danger of coming before her again.
Seeing her so close to the edge was pushing him even further at a faster
rate. But then she was clenching him tight, crying with loud intensity.

He had to kiss her to muffle her shouts, and the pressure
of her around him sent him toppling to his own release. It felt
incredible; all the more satisfying for knowing that they had gone
together.

When it was over, he slumped against her. He felt
heavy and weak, but it was a blessed vulnerability.

�Good gracious, Harry,� she breathed in his ear.

She cupped his face in her palms to lift it from her
shoulder. She kissed him; a slow, languid meeting of lips and tongue to
show her appreciation.

He was quite grateful himself. When they separated,
she ran the tips of her fingers delicately over the plains of his face.
He closed his eyes, liking the sensations for its tenderness. He settled
beside her, holding that same hand of hers to place kisses on her fingertips
and the heel of her palm. He was sapped of strength but not exactly ready
for sleep just yet.

Carefully, he laid his head on her stomach, looking up at
her as his hands caressed her sides.

She smiled, running her fingers idly through his
hair.

Would she tell him to be quiet if he spoke?

�I didn�t expect to see you here,� he finally said.

Thunder rumbled softly outside through the torrent of
rain, as if to punctuate his sentence.

�I didn�t exactly plan all this either,� she replied.

And she probably meant all of it as she said
it. She hadn�t planned on showing up at his house; at his doorstep; in
his bed.

�Do your parents know you�re here?� Did he really
care to know? Yes. However lovely this new and impulsive Hermione
was, he still wanted the Hermione he had come to know.

She nodded. �I told them I would come here. I
told them that I believed you shouldn�t be alone tonight. They didn�t ask
why. They just let me do what I had to do. I don�t know if it�s
because I�m seventeen and of-age in the Wizarding
World, or�I don�t know. Maybe they saw it in my eyes or something.
I had to see you.�

His eyebrow arched, a slanted grin tugging on his
lips. �Had to?�

A blush rose in her cheeks. �Yes, had to. I
feel many things for you, Harry. Deep things.
Things I�ve never felt for any other boy.�

The beating of his heart picked up. He wasn�t sure
why. �What things?�

She smiled again, and he knew what it meant, though it was
the very first time he saw it. It was a smile that said, �If you don�t
know what I�m talking about, then I�m not going to tell you.�

He clutched at her hand desperately. Maybe he needed
to hear it after all. �Hermione?�

But she shook her head. �We�ll talk about that some
other time. Harry, you�re seventeen now!�

He lifted his head to look at his clock. It said 11:56
pm.
�Four more minutes.�

She shook his head. �That clock is five minutes
late. You�re legal as we speak.�

The enthusiasm in her eyes made him grin, but just as he
had thought earlier, his coming of age wasn�t exactly giving him the
satisfaction he expected. He was more elated by the fact that he had a
woman in his bed and that he had made her scream beneath him. And there
was true warmth in knowing that the woman was Hermione.

His best friend.

Maybe he should feel more disturbed. Logic dictated
that men did not make the women they consider their best friends, their lovers;
it was giving up something great and rare, but he felt no loss. She was
still his best friend, and she had given him a very special gift. He
hoped she felt he had gifted her with something too. This, what they had
shared, was too precious to be squandered by petty insecurities.

He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her
waist. He burrowed his nose in her skin, inhaling the wonderful smell of
her. Committing it to memory. If they never did
this again, he would have all the memories he could gather. Her taste,
her touch, her smell; the way she looked and the sound of her impassioned
cries.

Harry desperately wished this wouldn�t be the last time,
but if it was, he would remember it in all its dimensions.

�You�ll be here when I wake up?� he asked, eyes still
closed.

�Of course, Harry. I�m not going anywhere without
you.�

He smiled as he let the waves of slumber begin to wash
over him. �Good.�

�Go to sleep,� she whispered, the steady rhythm of her fingers
in his hair lulling him further.

He drifted off just when his clock clicked twelve.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following morning, Harry helped Hermione risk the
bathroom.

He stood with her at the threshold of the bathroom door,
holding out a towel for her as she cradled her own bath supplies. It was
a basket of pink and purple bottles, and he marveled at this. He was
sorely tempted to ask her if he could watch her use these soaps and gels, and from
the look in her eyes, she would let him watch all he liked and do even more,
but then Dudley lumbered out of his bedroom, and
all pleasant thought withered.

Harry instinctively stepped in front of Hermione, waiting
for what Dudley was going to do.

Dudley�s beady eyes fell on her, looking her over and
realizing with apparent astonishment that she was wearing Harry�s
t-shirt.

He had let her wear his Quidditch
jersey because all his other house shirts were Dudley�s, and Harry wasn�t about to wrap
her body in anything of his cousin�s. He was being a bit possessive, he
knew, but he didn�t feel embarrassed about it. They had slept together,
after all. He felt he was entitled to a bit of marking. He didn�t
have to tell her that�s how he saw it, anyway.

�So you did have a girl in your room,� said Dudley dangerously.

Harry tried not to imagine what Dudley had done while hearing them last
night. He glared. �Sod off, Dudley. I�ll have you know that as
of today, I�m seventeen, and I can use magic outside of school now. So unless you want me to shrink that little �Diddykins�
of yours, you better not be making trouble for me, or for Hermione.�

Dudley�s eyes widened. Without a word, Dudley turned and slammed himself back
into his room.

Behind Harry, Hermione gave a soft giggle.

�Diddykins?�

He grinned. �That�s what Aunt Petunia calls him.�

She arched an impish eyebrow. �Little?�

He shrugged. �He has short fingers.�

Hermione laughed and Harry had to shush her, warning her
that while Diddykins was easy, Uncle Vernon was going
to be more of a problem.

He hustled her into the bathroom and closed her in,
grinning at the sound of her soft giggles. He was about to go back to his
room when he realized he wasn�t about to leave her there with Dudley fuming just down the hallway.

Not that Hermione couldn�t take
care of herself,
but he wasn�t going to risk it.

He leaned back against the wall, wand out and arms crossed
over his chest.

Once, Dudley peered out of his door and Harry shot him such a
murderous glare that Dudley retreated in a hurry.

Hermione took a bit longer than he expected. He�d
heard of girls taking longer in the bathroom, of course, but he never realized
they went way past fifteen minutes.

When she came out, freshly clothed and rubbing a towel in
her hair, she stopped short upon seeing him. �Harry, how long have you
been there?�

�Erm� since you went in.�

She looked mildly sympathetic. �That was thirty
minutes ago, Harry.�

�I just wanted to make sure Dudley didn�t bother you. I didn�t
know you would� you know, take that long.�

She sighed, rolling her eyes. �Your
turn, then.� She walked past him to his room and he watched her close
herself in.

There was little point in not doing as she directed.
So he went straight into the bathroom and found himself inhaling the sweetest
scents. He scratched his head in wonder. He never realized having a
girl in the house, a young girl, would mean things like this.

He realized moments later that the scents were familiar,
that it was the same kind of smell from her skin last night and this
morning. It was embarrassing that his Harry reacted so instantly to the
mere thought of it.

He turned the shower on cold.

When he was done showering and he went to his room, he was
a tad disappointed to find her almost completely ready. She was preening
in front of a mirror she had propped up on her trunk. He didn�t recall
having a mirror, so it must have been hers.

Her trunk itself had been a surprise. He hadn�t seen
it the previous night, not that he would�ve noticed it with her standing in the
rain and the water soaking through her shirt. It amazed him to know that
she had shrunk her trunk and stuffed it into her rucksack. There were
other things in there, as well, but he wasn�t so much fascinated by what as he
was with �how�. Tonks had done it before, but
it was still quite amazing, especially watching Hermione doing it. Having
seen the look of wonder in his face, she had promised she would teach him how
to shrink his own things, and that had been something to look forward to.

As he closed them into his room, she pried her gaze from
her preening and smiled, mischief glinting in her eyes as she looked him
over.

He felt a bit self-conscious, though the towel was secure
around his waist.

�Honestly, Harry,� she said, smiling impishly. �You
have nothing to be embarrassed about.�

She didn�t elaborate. Was she telling him not to be
embarrassed because they had seen, tasted and touched each other in the most
intimate ways last night, or was she implying that she�well�liked what she
saw? Either way, it was giving him a semi.

He tried not to give it much thought as he dressed.

His trousers were still too big for him, but remembering
that he was seventeen now, he grinned and transfigured the trousers to
fit. She looked at him in surprise before she grinned back.

�Smart of you,� she said.

He was pleased she approved.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he put on his socks and
shoes, furtively watching her hold her abundant brown hair up, as if to test its
effect before letting it go.

He thought her adorable now. He never let himself
think so before. It didn�t surprise him that he found her so
distracting. After all, he can never look at her again and not remember
the sensual arching of her back or the curves of her breasts against his
palms.

Lord almighty, he thought with mild disdain of himself. This
woman�

She caught him staring. �What?�

�Nothing,� he muttered.

It was only then he realized that he had completely
forgotten Ron.

He froze, thoughts of his best friend flooding his
mind. Where did Ron fit into all this? Ron fancied Hermione, didn�t
he? Ron did all those stupid things, like fighting with her and snogging Lavender to get Hermione�s attention, right?
Ron had held Hermione during Dumbledore�s funeral, and it had been so telling
of his feelings for her. Ron had been running his fingers through her hair, much like Harry had done this morning as she lay in
his arms, naked�

He took a deep breath, heading to his dresser to pick a
shirt.

�So,� he began nonchalantly. �Heard from Ron,
lately?�

�Few letters,� she replied without hesitation. �He
mentioned something about Ginny being worried about you. Has she written
to you yet?�

His lips pursed, knowing full well that she had intended to
swing right back at him with her last question. He asked himself if he
was willing to play this game with her. He wasn�t.

�Where are we going from here?� he asked, changing the
subject completely. He realized immediately how loaded his question was
and he wondered if he was being too heavy handed about this entire one-night
stand.

�Wherever you want to go.�

Her reply was just as filled with possibilities. He
looked at her, and he saw that she meant what she said, with all its
undertones. He cocked a tiny smile. She smiled back.

�Grimmauld Place, then,� he said. He didn�t really
want to go there, but he figured he had to. It was better than the
Burrow, at any rate. The Burrow was filled with people he loved, and with
people who loved him back, but there was a sense of forgetfulness there that he
didn�t want just yet. He didn�t want to escape things right now. He
would have enough of that during Fleur and Bill�s wedding. He could get
to that when he had done some of the more important things.

After Grimmauld Place, he might even take a trip to Godric�s Hollow.

Hermione was better company for all that. He wanted
no one else.

She nodded. �Remus is
keeping house there, I think. I don�t know who else is living in it, but
that hardly matters. You own the place, don�t you?�

He was surprised she knew.

She shrugged. �I just figured, Harry. Who else
was it going to go to? I think Sirius would have rather had his tail cut off
than let Narcissa inherit the place.�

Harry smiled.

When he was done dressing, he gathered all his
possessions. He was never coming back to this place, ever, and he had no
intention of leaving any trace of him behind.

It surprised him how little he had gathered over the
years. The room itself reflected so little of him, so he had no posters
to roll up or useless bric-a-brac to pack. It had been a place to sleep
in, keep his things in and spend the days wishing he wasn�t there.

He left Dudley�s clothes. He was looking forward to getting news
ones, after all, and when he pried the floorboard open to his secret panel, he
left the board out. He wanted Uncle Vernon to see that he had been able
to keep secrets. It would surely drive him spare.

Hermione smiled when she saw him bring out his most
valuable possessions. His baby album with pictures of his parents; his
first broken quill; Buckbeak�s feather; pictures of
him with her and Ron and finally, a piece of his Nimbus 2000.

She laughed softly as she picked it up. �The Nimbus?�

He blushed, taking it from her hand. �It was my
first broom. Don�t laugh.�

She reddened. �I wasn�t laughing�at you, I
mean. I� I kept a piece of your Nimbus, too.�

This surprised him a lot, then it
pleased him. �Really?�

She nodded, smiling and embarrassed as she rose to check if
all her things were in place. He watched her, relishing this new tidbit
about the Nimbus and her.

Broke in the third year, didn�t it? Awfully sweet of her. Awfully�

He banged the lid of his trunk shut, locked it and
declared he was done. She then taught him how to shrink his things.
She let him shrink his trunk and his Firebolt and a
few other things he had. She was a good teacher and he caught on quickly.

Of course, he already knew how good of a teacher she
was. He had taught her enough last night, didn�t she? And he
blushed at the thought.

He stuffed all his shrunken things in his rucksack, just
like she did. Before they stepped out of the door, he grabbed her
rucksack with his. She made to protest but he shook his head.

�Let me, alright?�

She smiled a bit and nodded.

Together, they made their way down the stairs.

His uncle, aunt and cousin were there.

It didn�t take long for his Uncle Vernon to hone in on
Hermione.

Harry pulled her behind him.

�I don�t recall letting her in,� said Vernon, his eyes peering at her with
barely disguised disgust.

Dudley said nothing, but he was waiting for Harry to make
a mistake; to stumble; to get in trouble.

Harry wasn�t afraid; had never been afraid, but this time,
he didn�t have to put up with any of it, anymore. He lifted his eyes at Vernon boldly. �That�s really not
your problem, is it? I let her in. She�s my friend. She gets
to come in here whether you like it or not.�

�I�ve been here all night,� Hermione said. �I slept
in his room.�

He looked at her in surprise. Not that he minded
what she said. It would give his uncle something more to stew about, and
that was satisfying, but he didn�t want her to feel like he was using their
night together as fodder for teeing his uncle off. What they did last
night had nothing to do with the Dursleys. It
had been about her and him alone.

Still, he saw the impish defiance in her face, heard it in
her tone. She was telling Vernon because she knew it would shock
his uncle, and she was doing it for him.

Predictably, Vernon turned purple with rage while
Petunia�s sour face crumpled even more.

�I will have none of that in my house!� Vernon roared. �Such immoral, disgusting,
freakish��

Harry whipped out his wand. �Silencio.�

The magic hit Vernon without warning and silence
filled the room. Vernon�s mouth continued to move for a
spell before he realized what had happened and he began stomping
furiously. He advanced towards Harry and Petunia screamed.

She knew at least that Vernon stood no chance against what
Harry could do.

�Petrificus totalus!�
cried Harry, wand
whipping.

Vernon stiffened instantly, toppling
backwards. He missed Dudley by an inch and Dudley made a terrified sound, shaking in his clumpy
boots.

�Well done, Harry!� Hermione said.

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, glad of her
praise. He stepped towards his uncle and Petunia stepped back with a
small cry.

Harry tucked his wand away and laced his fingers through
Hermione�s, pulling her close. He met Petunia�s gaze coldly. �I�m
seventeen today, which means I�m done here. I have nothing to say to any
of you.�

He led Hermione to the door, but before he left, he
reached into his robe and placed a pouch on the console table. A handful
of galleons spilled out of its mouth.

Petunia stared at the gold in shock.

�Only because you�re my mum�s sister,� he said without
emotion.

He opened the door and walked out with Hermione.
When they reached the front lawn, Hermione stopped them in their tracks.
She looked up at him and smiled, pulling him even closer. He thought she
was going to kiss him, and he found that he wanted the kiss; craved it since he
woke up with her in his arms, but there was a pop, and realized that she had apparated them both, leaving number 4 Privet Drive behind
him forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They stared at 12 Grimmauld
Place as they stood on the side-walk, hand in hand.

He remembered telling Dumbledore that he didn�t want the
house; that he didn�t want a reminder of his dead Godfather.

But as he stood there, staring at it, he found that it
wasn�t as painful as he thought it would be. They walked up the path and
climbed the porch.

He was about to ring on the bell when Hermione stopped him
gently.

�I�m glad I�m here with you, Harry.�

He looked at her and gave in to the impulse he had earlier
to kiss her. She responded immediately. Maybe she had wanted it
too.

Seriously, bloke, he thought. You�ve slept together. Don�t act
so surprised.

Harry found himself grinning while they kissed and he held
her tighter to let the kiss continue for a bit more. Finally, she was
able to pull away.

�What are you grinning at?� she asked.

He held her hand as he stepped back, smiling rather
awkwardly. �I�ve been wanting to do that all
morning. I was wondering why I didn�t just do it.�

She seemed mildly surprised before she began to laugh
softly. She understood what was funny. He found comfort in their
deep understanding of one another. It had always been like that with
them, hadn�t it?

He rang the bell.

Remus Lupin
answered it and his surprise was apparent. �Well, I didn�t expect either
of you, at all! But come on in! Quickly now.�

They walked in and Remus closed
the door behind them. The place didn�t look much better than the last
time Harry was in it, but it did look lived in, and it remained clean
enough.

�Hermione sprung me out of Privet Drive,� Harry said. �We�ll need a
place to stay until I can�I don�t know, find a flat of my own?�

It occurred to him that he had every intention of taking
her with him, wherever this flat was, and maybe if he was good, he could get
her to live there, too.

�Nonsense,� said Remus.
�You can live here for as long as you want. You own this house now,
Harry.�

He nodded to indicate that he knew that. He had no
intention of keeping number twelve, and he had every intention of giving it to Remus. Sirius would have agreed with it, but he could
see Remus having none of it.

Harry can put off talking about his plans for another
time, though. For now, it was good enough that Remus
was comfortably placed.

�We�ll settle down for a bit,� he said, looking at the
stairs.

Remus nodded, leading them to the steps.
�Let�s bring you to your rooms, then. No trunks?�

�Shrunk them,� said Hermione.

Remus looked mildly surprised.
�Oh, yes. You�re both of you seventeen. Congratulations! And
happy birthday, Harry! But my, wasn�t Hermione a pleasant birthday surprise
this morning?�

More than you think, thought Harry. He saw Hermione blushing and
knew she was thinking the same thing. They exchanged knowing looks and
she squeezed his hand, as if in warning. He almost laughed at the thought
that she was expecting him to blurt it right out at Remus.

The Dursleys were one thing; Remus another. Remus was
more the uncle than Vernon was, so telling him would almost
be like telling their parents.

They went to the second floor.

�Same room, Harry,� said Remus,
pointing to the door down the hall. �And Hermione, I�d imagine you
wouldn�t want to be alone on the first floor, so you can take this room nearby.
Let me know if you encounter any problems with the paintings. They�re not
accommodating to werewolves and muggle borns.�

They exchanged sympathetic smiles.

Remus took Hermione�s rucksack from
Harry. �You go on ahead and settle in your room, son. I�ll take
Hermione to hers.�

Harry nodded and watched them go. He fidgeted
nonsensically on the threshold of his room just so he could see where she would
be settled. It wasn�t far. Two doors away,
and he caught her gaze as she entered her room.

He walked into his room and began unloading his
rucksack. He was just enlarging his things when Remus
stuck his head through the door.

�Alright, Harry?�

�Yes. Is Hermione getting settled in?�

Remus nodded. �Yes. And I
gave her the nice room, too.�

Harry smiled at him gratefully.

�Have you had breakfast?� Remus
asked.

Harry shook his head.

�I�ll have some ready then, when you�re done. I�ll
be downstairs, and I think maybe I�ll floo the Weasleys. They�d like to know you�re here, yes?�

Harry nodded. He didn�t know if he wanted them to
know, but he didn�t feel much like telling Remus that
and explaining why.

�I reckon so,� he muttered. �Um, Remus? I� I sorter left my Uncle Vernon hexed��

Remus stared at him a moment, looking
as if he wasn�t quite sure what to do.

�He was going to attack Hermione,� Harry added
hastily. He wasn�t actually sure if Vernon had intended to inflict bodily
harm on Hermione, but Harry had certainly acted on the instinct to protect her
more than himself.
If Vernon had somehow incapacitated him, it was only prudent to
suppose Hermione would fall victim next.

Remus expelled a soft breath, smiling a
bit. �Don�t worry about it, Harry. I�ll take care of it.�

�Th-Thank
you.�

Remus left and Harry continued to
unpack.

Fifteen minutes later he was done and he was looking out
the window at Muggle London. He didn�t even
notice Hermione enter his room until she stood beside him, facing him.

She was pretty with the morning sun kissing her face, and
he was right, there were no glaring imperfections on her face; nothing that
needed hiding in dim lighting. The intelligence in her eyes was what made
her so extraordinary and special, anyway, and no amount of lighting could
outshine the attractive quality of that.

Forget the girls with the straight, glossy hair.
Forget the ones who caught all the boys� attention. The woman in front of
him was so much more to him than all of them; she with
her wild, bouncing hair and radiant, magical smile.

And so what if Hermione didn�t like Quidditch?
She was always there for her friends; cheering them on during Quidditch matches; watching over them in the infirmary when
they got hauled in, half-dead from kissing the dirt at the pitch.

He pushed some of her curly hair from off her face.
�Ron�s letters to you� what did they say?�

She seemed startled and she had every right to be.
This was probably something she hadn�t planned on talking about just yet, but
he figured why wait? The Weasley might be upon
them as soon as tonight. He didn�t want unanswered questions hanging
between them while Ron and Ginny buzzed around giving them no privacy
whatsoever.

�Harry��

�We talk about this now,� he interrupted gently.

There was true distress in her eyes. �Do we have
to? I�I rather like where things are.�

He found this confusing. �Where are things, then?�

She looked up at him. �Here. With just the two of us. I�m expecting the Weasleys to come barreling in at any moment� but now, it�s
just us two. No Ron� no Ginny��

Maybe she did have something with Ron, which made him feel
jealous. �Are you and he together?�

Her eyes widened. �No, of course
not! I wouldn�t have�I wouldn�t have slept with you if��

He held her hand, relief flooding over him at her
words. �Good. I don�t want you to be with him.�

She gave pause at what he said and she smiled
slightly. �He writes some� I think he fancies me, but I�he botched his
chance when he snogged Lavender and all.�

Harry watched her and nodded. �He did, didn�t he?�

�It was a small enough chance, anyway,� she
muttered. �I only fancied him because I thought he fancied me. It
was embarrassing to have it blow up in my face like that. I� I always
liked you better, Harry, because you were nicer to me.�

He was mildly surprised. �Always?�

�Always.�

�Liked?�

She smiled and blushed. �Fancied.�

�Really?�

�Don�t act so surprised, Harry. I would have thought
it was obvious when I stuck by you in fourth year. Viktor certainly knew
it. He was jealous enough of you as it was. Then I told you at Quidditch tryouts last year that you were never more fanciable. I meant what I said.�

His jaw dropped, shocked at these revelations. �But�But
you gave me advice! About Cho! And you
gave advice to Ginny! And you seemed pleased enough to see us together.�

He just couldn�t believe he had never noticed, and perhaps
he wondered what he would�ve done if he knew. Maybe he wasn�t ready for
her then. Or maybe�

We could have had months. Years�

�Of course I was pleased, Harry,� she said
plaintively. �You were happy, weren�t you? And Cho�
well, I was never threatened by that ditz��

He grinned. �Oh, weren�t you?�

She rolled her eyes. �A ditz.
I knew you�d come to your senses.�

He laughed at this.

�But Harry,� she continued, her tone going soft and
serious. �You just needed someone last night, I suppose. I�m glad I
was there for you, but� I know you�re probably not quite over Ginny yet.
I won�t tell her. You don�t ever
have to, either, alright? It will be our secret, won�t it?�

He frowned and pulled her closer to him. �If that�s
what you want, but I�m not going to keep what we have secret because of what
you think I feel for Ginny. This is no one�s business but ours, isn�t
it?�

She gazed into his eyes, silent before she nodded.
�It is. Harry, about last year��

He supposed thoughts of Ginny could lead them to sixth
year. She was, perhaps, the one bright spot in that dreary time.
�What about it?�

�I�m sorry; for neglecting you; for being difficult; for
being� everything hateful about me.�

He took a deep breath and released it. �We all have
something to apologize for, don�t we? I almost got you killed in the
Department of Mysteries.�

�That wasn�t your fault.�

�We�ll not talk about the past, then,� he said.
�We�ll remember the good. There�s a lot of that to remember. Why,
only last night, I was with this wonderful woman��

She blushed, grinning.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, realizing how
much taller he�d gotten in the past year. She had pointed it out before;
how he�d grown a foot, but he never realized how his height was just right for
her. How easy it was to hold her in his arms, or maybe carry her, or have
her wrapped around him�

It was official. This woman would have him thinking
naughty thoughts his entire life.

Entire life, now?

His eyes widened at his own revelations.

�What?� she asked.

�Nothing,� he replied. �Nothing at
all.� He pulled her closer into a kiss, and it was every bit as
perfect as the last dozen kisses he�d been giving her since last night.

He was ready to lose himself to it completely when someone
at the door cleared his throat.

They separated instantly, awkwardly pulling apart without
really wanting to. They exchanged apologetic looks before they lifted
their gaze to the door.

Remus was there, and he wasn�t exactly
looking at them either. �Breakfast is ready. I�ll see you both
downstairs at the kitchen.�

He left.

Hermione laughed softly. �Well, there goes our
secret, then.�

He smiled. �He won�t tell anyone. But is it so
bad? Being seen kissing me?�

She seemed shocked. �Harry� of course not. I
just�this is new, isn�t it? I like to�I think maybe I like to keep
it between us for now. It�s wonderful, and exciting and brilliant��
She reddened.

He didn�t realize he would be so pleased to hear her say
that. He nodded.

He was rewarded by her radiant smile.

Harry took her hand. �Come on then. Breakfast
is waiting.�

She nodded, and together, they made their way to the
kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The view of the city from the rooftop of Grimmauld Place was the best to be had. It
was the highest house in the area and there was nothing to obstruct one�s line
of vision, and while there was still that ever present fog
hanging over the city, that grim blanket that told Wizards that the Dementors were mating, it was still a fascinating sight.

He was alone right now. He had left Hermione in the
library a few hours ago, rather reluctantly, actually. She had gone to
the library, hoping to get some studying time and knowing how important her
books were to her, Harry resolved to keep his hands off her. It was astounding how difficult he found
that. Her close proximity made him antsy
because of the little things that reminded him of her physical� there-ness. He could smell the sweet scent of her lotion
and shampoo; he looked at her hair and thought he wanted to run his fingers
through it; he saw her hands and was reminded of how well she had held him
where it drove him mad. When he found
himself peeking through the collar of her shirt to get a better glimpse of her
bra-bound breasts, he knew he was being an absolute prat.

He had begged leave, telling her he had a few things to
attend to around the house. So she let him go, promising to look for him
when she was done reading.

There was a sound at the door, and it caught Harry�s
attention. He saw Hermione emerge and he smiled. She smiled
back.

�Have you been here all day?� she asked, settling on the
railing beside him.

�No. Not really. I�ve just been walking around
the house after I left you in the library; checking things out.� And he
had, opening doors and sitting in rooms as he explored the house. Maybe
he had expected Sirius�s ghost to be hiding somewhere just waiting for someone
to find him. He found no miserable, spectral form of his Godfather, but
ghosts were plenty in the house. There were echoes and reminders of
Sirius, simply because it was one of the few things Harry knew about him.
The snooty paintings and dust-aged furniture in parts of the rundown house
reminded Harry that Sirius had endured twelve years in Azkaban, and that was
the reason Grimmauld Place had stood unlived in for that
length of time.

There was a heaviness in his
heart as he stared at the watermarked walls and cracked ceilings, but Harry
surmised there was more guilt than pain. He had told Dumbledore last year
that Sirius would not have wanted him to grieve; that Sirius would have wanted
him to move on, but Harry wondered if he hadn�t so conveniently said that just
because he was done grieving, and that he felt he needed a worthy excuse
to go on without having to think too much about Sirius anymore.

Dumbledore�s loss was ever more palpable, and Harry asked
himself if his refusal to go back to Hogwarts bore the same reasoning as his
refusal to acknowledge that twelve Grimmauld
Place had been bequeathed to him by Sirius.

�Did you find anything interesting?� she asked.

He shook his head.

After a moment�s pause, he felt her nudge his arm with
something. He looked. It was a small wrapped box with a dainty
ribbon.

�Happy birthday, Harry,� she said, grinning.

He couldn�t help but return the smile. He took the
box and tore into the wrapper.

The wrapper came off easily and he found a black velvet
box, like something that would hold jewelry. He opened it and found what
looked like a compass on a chain. The chain had a clip on the end, with
teeth, so it could be attached to anything. The compass itself was set in
a simple elegant design of gleaming silver, but its face was a fairy tale dream
of cows jumping over the moon, blackbirds in a pie, Georgie
Porgie kissing girls and Jack jumping over the
candlestick. There were more images that moved about, the scenery
changing at every turn.

�Interesting,� said Harry, examining it more
closely. The needle in it turned continuously, and the North, South, East
and West symbols seemed to be moving as well.

�It�s a Finder,� she said, grinning. �It�s spelled
to find whatever it is you�re looking for. It�s got its limits of
course. Distance is one. It covers only a certain radius, though
I�m told it�s a rather large radius at that. Also, if the object you�re
looking for is magic protected or if you�ve never seen the object before, it
won�t work, but for things you�ve seen and even landmark places you�ve been to,
it�s terribly handy.�

Harry grinned. �Wicked.
So if I�m lost in the Forbidden Forest, I can find my way to Hogwarts
again?�

�Yes, because while Hogwarts has magical wards on it, it
isn�t unplottable,� she said. �You just have to
think about Hogwarts clearly, say the incantation with the name of the place
and it will make the finder work. The needle in it will point the
way. You�ll even know where North lies. See? It�s like an
instant point me charm. The markers move in response to its true
direction.�

Harry tested the markers and saw that it was true.
�So I can�t exactly find Grimmauld Place?�

�That�s right, but you can find the house next to
it.� She smiled. �You just have to be smarter than the Finder, is all. The incantation is locare then say the object�s name or
the place you�re looking for. The pictures on the face stand still while
it�s locating the object or place. The pictures will move again when
you�ve come in contact with what you�re looking for, or if you�re standing
where you�re supposed to be. If the pictures aren�t moving and the needle
is spinning, it means you�re on top of the object or place but you�re not in
contact with it. Give it a go with something.�

�Alright, then,� he said, smiling. �Why don�t you go
back into the house, hide and I�ll see if I can find you.�

She pouted. �You weren�t listening! It can�t
find people!�

He chuckled. �I was listening, and I�m
telling you, I can find you. Go on then. I�ll give you ten counts.�

�But��

�One.�

Excitement blazed in her eyes and she bit her lip.

He grinned. �Two.�

�I�m going! You won�t find me, Potter!� she yelled as she
took off back into the house.

He laughed. �Three!�

He heard her give a shriek as she barreled down the
stairs, probably in twos and threes.

He considered foregoing the rest of the counts, just
because she was adorable and he wanted to get to her already, but he was a man
of honor after all, and he did give it a fair count to ten, after which he
looked to his compass, muttered the incantation and called out the
object.

The moving pictures on the face came to a slow halt as the
needle swung round before it settled on a direction.

The mischievous chuckle that escaped him made him realize
that he was really going to enjoy this.

He followed the needle and wondered what floor she would
be in. It was possible she was on the third floor landing, because that
was about as much as he heard when she went down the stairs, but Hermione was
smarter than that. It was possible that she had crept
the rest of the way to the second floor, just so he wouldn�t hear.

He scanned the third floor first and found himself in one
of the many rooms. He walked the floor and at one point, the needle began
to spin wildly, but the pictures remained unmoving.

Harry laughed. She�s under this room.

Off he hurried to the second floor and straight for the
room he was looking for.

He peeped in cautiously. It was the linen
room. Some of the piles of cloth looked dusty and long unused, but there
were fresh piles all around as well of blankets and towels and folded
curtains. There were carpets rolled up and piled in one corner and he saw
Hermione�s wand placed distinctly atop it.

He chuckled. Clever girl.

A smirk spread on his lips. But I�m cleverer.

He looked at his compass and found that she was somewhere
by the tall pile of floor pillows. There was nowhere to hide behind so he
could only assume she was standing somewhere there, probably in his
invisibility cloak.

Closing the door behind him, he went to her
carefully. He didn�t want to barrel into her, did he? But he did
want to catch her. He grinned when the needle indicated that she had
stepped around him.

With perfect timing, he reached out and estimated her
middle, catching her by the waist.

She shrieked as he grabbed her and he laughed when the
invisibility cloak fell away from her head.

�Ha! Caught!� he declared. �I told you I�d
find you.�

She giggled, making a poor attempt at trying to get away
from his clutches as she held the cloak firmly around her body. �You
did! But how? See, I left my
wand over there! I was sure you were using it as a focus object.�

He was very pleased by his success. �I was going to
use the wand, yes, but I thought better of it, knowing you�d figure it
out. I used a different focus object.�

�Oh, you did?� she said softly. �What, pray tell?�

�Something you�re wearing, of course!�

�What I�m wearing?� she asked with affected
surprise. �But Harry, my clothes are over there.�

Her svelte arm poked out from beneath the cloak and she pointed
to an indistinct pile of clothes somewhere among the towels.

His heart skipped a beat as he looked, and indeed, there
were her jeans and t-shirt. On top of it was her wrist watch and on the
floor her sneakers. He looked back at her, realizing that she was still
holding the cloak to conceal most of her.

With growing excitement, he parted the cloak and let his
hands slide inside. He touched skin and it was hot. His breathing
began to get heavy.

She let the cloak slip from off her shoulders and it
pooled to the floor. She was in her lacy maroon bra and knickers, and on
her feet were her cute ankle socks. He could see her wiggle her toes
beneath the cloth.

�I�m a little shy,� she said, her eyes impish.

He let out a breath to control his raging lust. He
ran one hand up her back to pull her to him while the other touched the soft
lace of her bra. The needle on the compass stopped spinning and the
pictures began to move.

�My focus object,� he said huskily, running his fingers
underneath the straps.

She smiled, pressing herself closer to him. �Clever
boy� I wasn�t sure if you saw it in the library.�

�I peeked.�

�I thought you did. I was going to remove everything,
you know.�

�Why didn�t you?�

�Because I wanted you to find me.�

He kissed her, and as she returned his kiss, their arms
tightening around each other desperately. She led him to the pillows
where he lowered himself upon her.

Harry�s heartbeat triple-timed and the tightness in his
trousers was instantaneous. She was so soft beneath him, and the scent of
her skin was intoxicating. He kissed her
slowly, relishing the feel of her lips and tongue against his.

Lowering his hand, he ran his palm along her thigh. He squeezed the back of her thighs and pulled
the rest of her leg around his waist.
Gently, he pressed himself between her legs.

She gave a soft moan, pushing her hips to meet him.

Thoughts and emotions swirled chaotic inside him and he
realized that this was the sort of relationship he was going to lead with
Hermione from that moment on.

While it was perfectly clear that they were completely
willing to give in to this physical need they had for one another, it was
unclear whether they were willing to breach certain other lines that shall
remain nameless as of yet.

�Take off your shirt, Harry,� she whispered.

He did with her help, and it was during this brief
struggle with fabric that she managed to push him to the side so that she was
on top of him. Before he could figure
out just exactly what she was doing, her lips were on his chest and she was
sucking gently on his skin.

A hiss escaped his teeth.
Seeing her prowling over him like this in her lacy knickers was
intensely erotic. He ran his fingers
trough her hair, cupping her face so he could coax her lips upon his. She obliged him for several blessed moments
and he slid his hands down her spine, slipping his fingers beneath her knickers
so he could squeeze her bum.

The moan that reverberated from her throat was exquisite,
but then she pulled away and he tried to chase her back to him. She pressed fingers to his lips and she
smiled.

�It�s your birthday, Harry,� she whispered. �I think maybe I�d like to� give you a little
something��

�I know you do,� he whispered back. �We�ll give it to each other. Please��

�Later.�

Somehow, she had turned that word into a world of
promise.

She leaned back and rose up, her knees on either side of
him. She began to undo the belt of his
trousers, her eyes watching his face with a naughty glimmer. He reached and pulled at the front of her
knickers and she slapped his hand pertly.

This surprised him, almost shocked him, a blush rising to
his face. She had done the same thing to
him, once upon a time in third year, when he tried to grab hold of her
time-turner, but the thoughts he had now compared to then were so different it
almost disturbed him.

�Naughty, Harry James Potter,� she said darkly. It sent a ripple of pleasure through
him.

His belt undone, she took his wand and summoned hers from
its perch across the room. Her wand
slipped into her hand and she waved it.
His trainers and socks came right off, followed by his trousers and
boxers.

She clasped his erection and he groaned at the motion of
her hand. Closing his eyes, he began to
push his hips up into her grip to a rhythm he found most pleasurable. Her other hand carefully massaged the rest of
him and he was just about to smile at the blessings of it all when an explosion
of sensation assaulted him.

Her mouth; her perfect mouth had taken him in. Her hands remained at the base of him, moving
and clutching with perfect pressure, but her lips and her tongue worked its
slick way over his dick and he couldn�t believe how heinously wonderful it
felt.

�Oh, God,� he gasped, his fists grabbing the pillows
beneath him.

As much as he wanted to sink into oblivion and let her
take him to the edge, he wanted desperately to see if she looked as good as she
felt. She was amazing to behold and the
groans that escaped him were beyond his control.

He hoped to Merlin that nobody heard them because he was
in no condition to cast anything competently. No silencing charms; no locking charms; no nothing.

Her rhythm changed and he found himself alternately
holding her head and pushing himself into her mouth. His cries became desperate and her moaning
was only making the sensations all the more mind-blowing.

If he didn�t speak up soon, he was going to lose it. �H-Hermione, not like this. Not��

The motion of her hands never paused, but she looked up,
concern etching her features. �Don�t you
like it?�

�Sweet Merlin singing, I love it,� he gasped. �But I
want you. I want to be�please, just come
here.�

He cupped her face and coaxed her up. She followed his gentle pull but soon found herself in his desperate embrace.

His kiss was demanding, his frustration of not being
inside her pouring from his lips and tongue to hers. She made a sensual sound as he let his
erection rub against her knickers.

He removed her bra with a twist of his fingers and he cupped
her breast in his hand as he flipped them over.

She gasped his name, half-protest-half-plea.

A coherent thought broke through his haze and made him
smile. She had wanted control and he had
taken it away, but he was determined not to make her regret it. He dipped his hands into her knickers and let
his fingers slide into her, rubbing his thumb just where it drove her to
gasping.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she squirmed
helplessly.

�Harry� just��

He smirked, loving her utter loss of composure; loving it
more that he was causing it. �Just what?�

She lost her train of thought for a few more seconds
before she clutched desperately at his shoulders. She was saying something about her knickers;
something to do with not caring about them.

Harry leaned down and took her breast into his mouth. Her hands clasped his head, pressing him to
her as she writhed against his hand. The
sounds she made began to echo in his head, rendering his self-control
completely useless against it.

Pushing himself up to his knees, he took the edges of her
knickers and ripped them off. The second
he realized what he had done, he felt overwhelming shock at his own
impatience.

Good lord, what�s
gotten into me? Was that necessary?

He was about to apologize when her voice cut through his
thoughts.

�Oh, Harry,� she moaned.
�I thought you�d never get around to doing that!�

He almost swooned at her words. His arousal surged and without even thinking,
he lifted her hips by the back of her thighs and entered her.

The initial surprise on her face faded as the sensations
flooded over them.

Harry couldn�t believe what he was doing. He had, on numerous occasions, fantasized
about this particular position, but he had never put a familiar face to the women
he did it to in his dreams. In his mind,
a proper missionary position was the only way to go for the woman he cared
for. It was respectable, and it was
pleasurable to them both. But as he did this to Hermione, knowing without a
doubt that there was no woman he respected more and cared for more deeply in
his life, he was shocked at how fantastic it felt and how right it seemed. And she� she was loving
it. She was just begging for him to keep
going.

He did, and just when he thought the visual stimulation,
the movements and the sounds were too much for him to bear,
she tightened around him and moaned her climax.
He watched, relishing his success, and seeing her come undone because of
him was as much as he could take. He
leaned forward so he could clamp his mouth over hers while he came, letting her
lips muffle his groans as he made his final thrusts inside her.

Spent, he leaned his forehead against hers. They panted for breath, sweat filming their
skin as they gasped to recover.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to lean back a bit. He didn�t want his glasses making her
uncomfortable. But her arms encircled
him, letting him rest his head on her shoulder with his body half-draped over
hers.

�I�m heavy,� he protested softly.

�I like it,� was her quiet reply.

He relaxed a bit and he sighed happily, closing his eyes.
Her fingers in his hair felt wonderful and he showed his appreciation by
placing soft kisses on her throat.

�I wish you�d have let me do what I wanted to do,� she
said with a chuckle.

He smirked. �Is
that a complaint?�

�Heavens, no.
Are you kidding me?�

He tucked his arm around her, pressing them closer
together as he grinned.

�Just that�� she continued. �I�well��

Harry raised his head slightly to look at her. She was blushing. �What?

�I wanted to�erm�taste.�

If he had been able, he swore he would have gotten a
hard-on right then, but he was sated and spent for the meantime, so all he
could be was surprised.

She pinched his nose affectionately. �But this turned out wonderfully,
anyway. I�ll get my chance next time.�

There was really nothing he could do except smile
foolishly at his smashing good fortune.

He rolled over to his side and gathered her in his arms,
spooning her comfortably in his embrace.
He buried his nose in her wonderful hair and smiled. �I�m so glad I found you,� he murmured. He wasn�t sure what the extent of his
feelings were as he said it, but one way or another, whether he was talking
about Hide and Go Seek or the unexpected turn their relationship had taken, he
meant every word.
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Forever Knight