Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Yuletide Blessing in Disguise	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 123887 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 10
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related properties--all rights belong to Rowling. Nor do I make any money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
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Those who have read a couple of my other stories will no doubt recognise a number of very similar elements in the last scene, though there are a number of differences as well - enough to hopefully make it feel fresh. It is, like a few of the other scenes in this story, a headcanon plot-point which I couldn't resist using in the context of this version of the Triwizard Tournament too.

Cursed

Hermione woke with a start, briefly disoriented before remembering that she was sleeping in a bed beside Harry’s in the hospital wing. She bolted upright, worriedly peering at the source of her disrupted sleep.
Harry was tossing and turning, his covers twisting around him as he thrashed, hissing as if he were speaking in Parseltongue and his fringe was damp with cold sweat.
He was clearly having a nightmare or vision involving Voldemort. Feeling a bit panicky, Hermione briefly considered waking Madam Pomfrey whose quarters were located next to her office, or Dora who was sleeping in a bed by the entrance of the infirmary, then decided to try waking Harry herself first.
“Harry! Harry!” she said quietly, touching his shoulder.
“Harry, wake up!” she said a little louder, giving him a little shake.
Harry muttered something about Wormtail, his eyelids still closed. He almost appeared to be struggling to achieve consciousness.
“Harry! Please wake up,” she begged.
Then it hit her. Hermione knew what to do. She leaned over and kissed Harry’s dry lips, stroking his bird’s-nest of hair. Harry’s eyes shot open and Hermione released his lips from her own as he gasped for breath.
“Bloody hell!” Harry groaned, rubbing at his clearly painful scar. “It’s like...” Harry frowned, apparently trying to think of a good metaphor. “It’s like swimming through tar to get out of that. ... Thanks Hermione! I could’ve been under for ages if you hadn’t snogged me.”
“You were having another nightmarish vision of Voldemort, weren’t you?”
Harry nodded then groaned and clutched at his scar again.
“Should we get Dumbledore?” Hermione asked anxiously.
“No!” said Harry, shaking his head and wincing again. “No need! It wasn’t anything he needs to know immediately - it can wait till morning. Just remind me if I forget! ... Voldemort was angry about the Second Task, and still angry about losing Crouch and not having anyone to kidnap me. He was making a plan with Wormtail - but that part’s hazy... I don’t know what his plan was...”
“Everything alright over there?”
Hermione turned around to see the shadowy figure of Dora sitting up in her bed.
“It’s Harry,” she said, “He’s had another one of those nightmares - you know, the real sort with Voldemort.”
“Blimey!” Dora muttered. “Should we get Dumbledore?”
“Harry says it can wait till morning.”
“Is ‘e sure about that?”
“Yeah!” Harry called out in a hushed tone. “It’s nothing urgent - really!”
“What about Pomfrey then?” asked Dora.
“Er...” Harry looked uncertain and rubbed at his scar again.
Hermione glanced at the vials of potion on his nightstand and saw what she was looking for.
“It’s alright, Dora. Harry just needs a pain potion... I think.” Hermione peered at Harry again. “What about a sleeping potion too? ...maybe a Dreamless Sleep potion? ...or a Calming Draught?”
“Erm...” Harry frowned pensively. “I think I’ll be okay now,” he said after a moment passed. “A pain potion ought to do it.”
Hermione nodded and passed him a vial. Harry swigged it down in one gulp and looked relieved after about thirty seconds, then he smiled wryly.
“Yeah, that should do it. I’m just glad I don’t need any more Blood-Replenishing potions.”
“Hmm... As Madam Pomfrey’s assistant, I’m sure I can find something else dreadful tasting for you,” said Hermione, raising her eyebrows.
“No thank you! I’m fine!” Harry grinned.
“Well, if you don’t want any more potions, I’ll have to prescribe something else.” Hermione kept up the little game, trying to maintain a straight face. “You look like you need something to settle your nerves, so how about a cuddle then?” .
“Er...” Harry glanced at Dora.
“Don’t mind me,” Dora chortled. “I’m just watchin’ the door, and I say you oughta follow your Healer’s orders, Harry.”
“Yeah, okay!” Harry let out an exaggerated sigh. “If you insist, Madam Granger, I suppose I could let you cuddle me...”
“Ow!” he yelped when Hermione gave him a little swat on the shoulder. “Whatever happened to the Hippo... er... the Hippopotamus Oath?”
“It’s the Hippocratic Oath!” said Hermione, rolling her eyes. “And if you insist on disobeying Healer’s orders, you can just forget about cuddles tomorrow night when we’re alone too.”
“Okay - alright! You win, Madam Granger!”
Harry grinned again and moved over to make room for Hermione who was giggling now, unable to keep up her straight face any longer. Hermione lay on top of the covers and snuggled right up against Harry, curling an arm around his waist and giving him a kiss on the cheek before resting her bushy head on his shoulder.
A little smile crept to Hermione’s lips when she heard Harry sighing contentedly, and in no time at all they were both fast asleep again.

~o0o~
“Hmm...” Madam Pomfrey peered at Harry through narrowed eyes, her lips pursed. “Given how close you came to death yesterday, I’d like to keep you under observation the rest of the weekend Mr. Potter.”
“I’m fine now, really!” Harry peered back at Pomfrey pleadingly, then he gave Hermione a “Help-me” sort of look.
Hermione bit her lip, not sure if she should push her luck with Madam Pomfrey, but her desire to have a bit more privacy with Harry won out; she and Harry had both been very embarrassed when Pomfrey had found them still curled up together earlier that morning.
“Er... What if I promise to look after Harry the rest of this weekend?” she asked Pomfrey. “You did say I could be your assistant, and I promise I won’t let him exert himself.”
“Hmm...” This time Pomfrey arched her eyebrows as she peered at Hermione cannily. “That depends on what you mean by ‘exerting himself.’”
Hermione’s cheeks turned a deep rosy pink.
Harry stared blankly at Madam Pomfrey and Hermione, not sure what was going on. Then Pomfrey seemed to relent.
“Wait here for a moment, Miss Granger.” Pomfrey strode back to her office.
Harry shot Hermione a questioning look while Pomfrey was gone, but Hermione kept mum, still blushing. Moments later Pomfrey returned and handed Hermione several vials of potion.
“Those are for Mr. Potter to help him rebuild his strength. Give him one tonight at bedtime and the other two are for tomorrow - one at breakfast, and the other again at bedtime.”
Then Pomfrey handed Hermione another potion. “This one is for you - just in case you and Potter were planning on ‘exerting yourselves.’”
Hermione let out a little “eep” and her rosy cheeks turned scarlet; she quickly put the vial in her pocket. Harry gawked, still feeling utterly clueless as he quickly dressed behind the curtain when Pomfrey left them both to it. When he was finished dressing, Hermione grabbed his hand and marched him out of the hospital wing.
“Er... what was that all about?” he asked her, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“You wanted to see Professor Dumbledore didn’t you?” said Hermione curtly, ignoring his question. “Now focus on what’s important so you can remember every little detail.”
“Er... Okay?” Harry glanced back at Dora who was trailing behind them. Dora shrugged, but Harry could have sworn he saw the barest hint of a smirk on her otherwise neutral features.
As it turned out, Harry ended up being glad that Hermione had kept quiet the rest of the way to Dumbledore’s office. It really had allowed him time to gather his thoughts and recall as much of his sleeping-vision as possible.
“...but that’s it,” Harry concluded after giving Dumbledore everything that he’d seen. “I’m still not sure where they’re holed up, and I didn’t get the details of their plan other than that it doesn’t seem to involve me anymore. That part was a bit fuzzy.”
Dumbledore stroked his long silvery beard pensively, his crystal blue eyes gazing at Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles. Fawkes let out a little trill and ruffled his feathers. Then Dumbledore nodded.
“Thank you, Harry. Under the circumstances you did very well indeed. Engaging in Legilimency or Occlumency when one is sleeping is exceedingly difficult for even the most experienced - it is not something which can be achieved without much practice, and in many cases it can take years to perfect the technique.
“You, however, have an extraordinary amount of Willpower, a talent which Professor Moody confirmed after testing your ability to shrug off the Imperius Curse with so little effort. It would seem that Barty Crouch Junior was a rather effective teacher - something Voldemort will no doubt come to regret.
“In my estimation, I believe that you could achieve enough Dream-Control to utilise your Legilimency and Occlumency skills - which are coming along nicely, I might add - in a matter of weeks.”
“Seriously?” Harry gaped at Dumbledore, feeling a bit bewildered. To be perfectly honest, he still felt pretty useless at Occlumency and Legilimency.
“See Harry?” said Hermione excitedly, “I told you that you were doing brilliantly but that it wouldn’t come overnight.”
“Indeed, Miss Granger is quite correct, Harry,” Dumbledore responded, his eyes twinkling. “And I must say, Miss Granger, that you are exceeding all expectations as well - your ability to focus even under stressful conditions will stand you in good stead when we begin practicing techniques to develop Dream-Control...”
By the time Harry and Hermione left Dumbledore’s office it was getting on for lunch time, and Harry was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Dumbledore was pleased with his progress in Legilimency and Occlumency.
“I dunno Hermione, I think Dumbledore was just trying to make me feel better - you know, to help me build my confidence.”
“Don’t be silly Harry,” said Hermione, rolling her eyes. “Dumbledore wouldn’t say something like that if he didn’t think it was true. You’re doing brilliantly!”
“But I’m not even close to being as good as you!” Harry argued, growing frustrated; if there was one thing he hated, it was being coddled when he knew he was rubbish at something.
Hermione came to a dead halt and turned to face him, giving him a glare.
“Harry James Potter, at the end of First Year I told you that you were a great wizard! I meant it then, and I mean it now!” she said angrily. “Yes - I may have more focus than you, and yes I even have more knowledge than you - but you have more raw power than I’ll ever have. I still haven’t managed to throw off the Imperius curse more than twice - you can do it every time.
“And look at your Patronus! Dumbledore is supposedly the most powerful Patronus caster in over two hundred years. You’re the only wizard I know of who can match him and you were only thirteen when you did - he’s nearly a hundred and fifteen. Eventually you’ll be even more powerful than Dumbledore is, andthat is why you’re going to defeat Voldemort - not because you know more magic than him - obviously you don’t - but because you’re stronger than him!
“Do you remember what else I told you at the end of First Year? Do you?”
“Erm...” Harry gulped, vaguely recollecting something about books. All he could really remember properly was Hermione’s hug - as embarrassed as he had been, he had also been afraid it might be the last hug he would ever get. He wasn’t sure that he could have survived Voldemort without that hug.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Let me refresh your memory, Harry, I said, ‘Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery and -’” Hermione paused, her cheeks taking on the same rosy tinge that they had earlier that morning. She took a deep breath and decided she was going to tell Harry what she had been too afraid to say at the time.
“I... er, I was about to say something else,” said Hermione, her features and tone softening, “but I was too scared to. I was going to say, ‘- friendship and bravery... and love,’... Ginny Weasley isn’t the only girl who ever had a crush on you, you know! But I’d like to think that my crush was based on knowing the real you! ... Not some fantasy knight-in-shining-armour hero! ... But a boy - a boy who was kind to a girl he thought was bossy - a boy who was brave even when he was scared to death - when you leapt on the back of that troll you looked terrified, but you didn’t let that stop you...”
Hermione trailed off as she looked into Harry’s glistening green orbs, her heart racing. Without another word - in that moment not caring that they were in a very public corridor - she reached both hands around the back of his head and drew him closer - close enough to kiss.
An electric charge shot through Hermione when their lips touched and for a brief, timeless moment the world fell away. A rush of elation flowed through her from head to toe as it had on their very first kiss, stars bursting like fireworks all around her.
When their lips finally parted Harry’s eyes looked glazed over and a soppy grin was plastered on his face. Panting breathlessly and feeling as giddy as Harry looked, Hermione beamed back at him.
“I love you to bits Harry,” she whispered, “because I know the real you!”

~o0o~
When Harry and Hermione entered the Great Hall together for lunch, they knew something was up. All eyes were upon them and the Hall filled with whispers and giggles.
Harry glanced at Ron to see a look on his face that he had hoped he’d never see again. Neville’s face turned crimson the moment he saw Harry. Lavender was moaning and had her face buried in both hands; Parvati managed to look both embarrassed and amused at the same time. Fleur was tittering; she waved at Dora.
Luna was sitting with Ginny at the Gryffindor table looking serene while Ginny was shaking her head, looking torn between fury and laughter. Fred and George took one look at Harry and Hermione and chortled.
Harry was considering making a run for it and skipping lunch, but Hermione was still clutching his hand tightly. Reckoning that out of the lot, Luna looked the most approachable, Hermione made a beeline for her, dragging Harry along behind.
“What’s going on?” she asked Luna.
“Oh, just another article by Rita Skeeter,” Luna offered nonchalantly, “It’s full of lies of course, but it’s very entertaining.”
“Sure! If you think making us all look like sex-crazed-maniacs entertaining,” Ginny grumbled.
“What are you talking about? Making who look like sex-crazed-maniacs?” Hermione demanded.
Harry didn’t want to know. He had a very bad feeling about this.
“Here, see for yourself.” Ginny thrust the Witch Weekly magazine into Hermione’s hands.
Hermione’s eyes nearly flew out of her head. At first she felt a hot rush of anger, but as she read through the article she began to giggle, and she had to clap her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing hysterically.
“What’s so funny?” Harry wanted to know. “And why is everyone staring at us?”
Hermione’s laughter faded and she looked at Harry anxiously, knowing that he wouldn’t like this one little bit.
“Erm... Here,” she said squeakily, passing him the magazine, her hand trembling.
What the...? Bloody Hell!” Harry’s jaw dropped in horror, his eyeballs glued to the headline and the accompanying photographs. He tore his eyes away and began reading the article.

Scandal At Hogwarts
Harry Potter’s Secret Harem
by Rita Skeeter
While canvassing Hogsmeade in search of human interest stories to explore the impact of the Triwizard Tournament on the local residents, intrepid reporter Rita Skeeter’s inquisitive instincts were piqued when discovering older man Harry Potter and his even older soon-to-be wife, Hermione Granger (the plain and ambitious muggleborn riding on Potter’s famous and wealthy coat-tails to improve her lowly status in our noble wizarding society) with two innocent young girls, Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley, in a local Tavern notorious for salacious trysts.
Disturbed by the implications of such unsavoury and inappropriate liaisons with underage girls, the award-winning journalist and her crack research team set out to investigate further the depths of depravity to which Potter and Granger might sink. What we found was even more shocking than one could possibly imagine.
And if the images captured at the conclusion of the Triwizard Tournament’s Second Task are any indication, Potter and Granger appear to have also drawn the French Champion into their circle of lust.
“Yes, Potter and his fiancée are always hanging out with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil too,” says Millicent Bulstrode, a demure and wholesome fourth year student.
Lavender Brown is, of course, the girlfriend of none other than Bulgarian Bonbon and International Heartthrob, Viktor Krum. We have no word yet on how he is taking this devastating emotional blow. He is no doubt too grief-stricken to face the public in his shame.
When seeking to discover the means by which Potter, Granger, and their French Lover are enticing their unsuitably young companions, this reporter discovered that they may be employing the use of the Imperius Curse - which, as everyone knows, is a highly illegal curse in the class of the Unforgivables. The aforementioned Miss Bulstrode assures us that Potter and Granger are extraordinarily skilled in the Dark Arts - both of them shrugging off the effects of the Curse themselves with great ease, and both more than capable of casting dangerous curses.
“I’m sure that’s how they’re doing it,” Miss Bulstrode went on to say nervously, clearly afraid that she could be Potter and Granger’s next victim. “They’re brilliant in Defence Against the Dark Arts because they’re so knowledgeable about curses - always at the top of the class.”
As if that weren’t bad enough, a number of other students have come forward to report that Mr. Potter has an exceedingly rare talent associated with Salazar Slytherin, a notorious Dark wizard long disowned by those who reside in the House named for him at Hogwarts.
“Everyone knows that Potter’s a Parselmouth,” a wide-eyed young Draco Malfoy informed us. And indeed, a few brave souls such as Hufflepuff Justin Finch-Fletchley confirmed this hair-raising information, though some are still too terrified of Mr. Potter to reveal their identities.
This stunning revelation would appear to indicate that Mr. Potter’s unique Parseltongue abilities may be too titillating and tantalisingly temptatious for young girls to refuse his nefarious advances. Is Mr. Potter a Dark wizard in training, employing his Cunning Tongue to ensnare young victims, only to subdue them with illegal curses, then to share them with his insatiable fiancée and their French Mistress in orgiastic Bacchanalian rituals of debauchery and depravity?
One might hope that Headmaster Dumbledore would look into these shocking allegations. But given his encroaching senility, and his own penchant for employing dangerous halfbreeds, it is no wonder that these goings-on have thus far escaped his Eagle-Eye.
Dora giggled uncontrollably when she picked up the paper and read it for herself.
“This is bloody hilarious!” she wheezed, shooting a grin at Fleur who was still tittering and looking as if she wouldn’t mind participating in an orgy at all.
Ron finally plucked up the nerve to voice his opinion.
“Bloody hell, Harry!” he said in a deeply wounded tone, “Why didn’t you tell me you and Hermione were engaged? ... And how come you didn’t let me in on the orgies?”
Harry groaned and slumped forward on the House Table, seriously considering slamming his head into it a number of times until he was comatose. Why was he always cursed to be the centre of attention?
Lavender and Parvati both shot Ron vicious death-glares, and Ginny flung a ladleful of mashed potatoes across the table which hit Ron square in the face, gobs of it flying everywhere.
“Oi!” yelled Ron angrily, wiping mashed potato from his eyelids.
“I’m supposedly in the harem too, you stupid prat!” Ginny snarled.
Fred and George both burst into loud guffaws and were laughing so hard that they fell out of their seats...
AN:
@ Ben: Thank you! :-)
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Yuletide Blessing in Disguise