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Biding My Time: Our Way	By : watchyerback Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 9795 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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
- 5
- 6
- 7
Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and company belong entirely to J.K. Rowling. I'm just
taking them for an entirely non-profit spin.

CHAPTER FIVE: BETRAYAL

There was
something wrong with their friend. That was Hermione’s foremost
concern. If it turned out that the icepick was tainted with some
slow-acting poison or some brew that would harm the boy Voldemort had
marked as his enemy, she needed to be there to stop it. That, as much
as compassion for Harry’s situation, convinced the girl to
forego the reception and the dance with Ron she had been looking
forward to. This seemed to be a more immediate need.

Even Ron was
starting to worry. He’d promised to floo in by noon the next
day at the latest. Together, they would watch Harry’s back, as
they had done quite a few times before. Not for a second did Hermione think she was in danger from one of her best friends.

It was only when
she stepped through the huge fireplace at Grimmauld, brushing the
soot from her clothes, that she felt a frisson of uncertainty.

The Harry that
stood to meet her as she stepped from the fireplace was nothing like
the boy she was used to. For one, he wasn’t wearing his
glasses. For another, he was dressed as formally, and in some cases even more
finely, than any guest at the wedding she had just left. Midnight
black dress robes swirled around his lean figure, relieved only by the stark
creamy whiteness of a pure silk shirt. And the way he strode towards
her. At that moment, Harry seemed taller, purposeful.

Dangerous.

Then he smiled,
obviously pleased to see her, and that melted away.

He took her bag
and led her to a nearby table. “I hope you’re hungry.
Since I took you away from the reception, I got us some dinner.”

Hermione’s
eyes widened as she saw the table. It was laid out with fine china,
silverware and heavy silver candlesticks. “If I’d known
you were going to this much trouble, I wouldn’t have changed
out of my dress.” Suddenly she felt self-conscious in her
casual knit cotton blouse and jeans.

He smiled at her
again. “What you have on is fine. I just felt like dressing up.
I bought these clothes for the wedding and I didn’t want them
to go to waste.”

It sounded so
reasonable that she accepted it. “Where are your glasses?”
she asked curiously, as he pulled a chair for her.

“I’m
trying out a new spell. Seems to work on my eyesight for short
periods of time.” He sat across from her. “Eat up. If you
want more, just tell me. I made enough for three. I was
half-expecting Ron to show,” he explained truthfully. Actually,
there was still a small part of Harry that would’ve been
relieved to see the redhead. It would’ve saved him from having
to choose between going ahead with this or not.

“You made
all of this?” Hermione was amazed. The food was succulent, at
par with anything she’d ever had in a restaurant. It made her
realize just how hungry she was. “It’s good,” she
said appreciatively.

“When
you’re the unofficial orphan maid, it helps to know how to
cook,” Harry half-joked. It earned him a sympathetic look.
Everyone knew how miserable he was whenever he had to live with the
Dursleys.

When they were
about halfway through dinner, Harry excused himself and came back
bringing a bottle of currant wine. “Thought it would make a
nice change from pumpkin juice,” he grinned. “You're
of age, after all, and I nearly am.”

It wasn’t
hard to convince his companion to try some, specially since alcohol
wasn’t officially allowed at Hogwarts. As Head Girl, Hermione
had to keep that rule at school, but she wasn't such a stickler when
she was just with her friends. She had actually told Harry once
that she was starting to develop an appreciation for wine, both the
muggle and wizard varieties.

They sipped wine
all throughout dinner and after, when Harry removed his outer robes
and lit a fire. He seemed a little more relaxed now, but he was still
more formal than usual in his dark vest, silk shirt and black
trousers.

Hermione noticed
the miniature Gryffindor lion gleaming from his vest. She recognized
it as the pin that the shopkeeper had practically foisted on Harry
after the attack. Funny, she had never seen her friend
wear jewelry.

She was about to
ask him about it when the boy moved a couch in front of the fireplace
with a flick of his wand. They ended up sitting next to each other,
the half-empty bottle of currant wine nestled between them.

“I don’t
think I can get anything done tonight,” Hermione admitted as he
poured her another glass. She was feeling pleasantly tipsy from the
food and the wine. She was sitting sideways on the couch, facing
Harry, her legs partially tucked under her. She tilted her head so
that it was resting against the back of the couch. “You’re
going to make some woman really happy one day, my friend.”

Except for that
last part, it was almost what Harry wanted to hear. “Was this
okay, then?”

“Are you
daft? A strapping, good-looking guy who cooks and sets up a fancy
dinner at a moment’s notice? Not to mention Quidditch team
captain and all that,” she teased. “Who can resist?”
Hermione was only half-joking. She thought whoever Harry ended up
with would be lucky indeed. It was too bad that he and Ginny hadn’t
worked out. She liked Ginny.

He swirled the
wine in his glass self-consciously. “Am I ... good-looking?”

She nearly
laughed at how serious he was. “You’re kidding, right?”
she asked, reaching over to ruffle his hair, which was neater than
usual tonight. “After half the girls at Hogwarts tried to slip
you love potions last term, don’t you know?”

If she hadn’t
been drowsy from the wine, Hermione would’ve caught the way
Harry’s eyes lit up as her fingers brushed against his hair,
and the strange expression on his face. She only had time to wonder
why he was starting to lean over like that, when Harry kissed her.

Hermione was too
surprised to pull away. It wasn’t unpleasant, really, Harry’s
lips sliding against hers, just unexpected and ... at this point,
totally unwanted. She and Ron were finally, tentatively starting to
work things out. For this to happen now was, well, complicated and
absolutely awful.

When he drew
away, Hermione’s eyes were wide with shock. “I –
what did you ... why?” she stammered.

Harry brushed a
finger against her cheek. “I’ve wanted to do that for
awhile now,” he admitted.

She said the
first thing that came to mind. “Harry, Ron and I ...”

“Don’t.”
She was surprised at how hard he sounded. “I know this is
sudden. I - I want a chance, that’s all.”

For one of the
few times in her life, Hermione was absolutely speechless. Harry was
sweet, and he had had a hard life. The last thing she wanted was to
hurt him. But she’d be lying if she even let him think that she
could choose him now, not when she'd just promised Ron that she'd give this thing that had been brewing between them a chance. She licked her lips nervously. “What
brought this on? I thought you and Ginny - and before that there was
Cho ...”

Harry shook his
head. He had liked those girls; he still liked Ginny. But when he
thought about them now it was as if they were a faraway memory. Even
with Ginny he’d accepted that their time together was finished.
“Do you remember the Yule Ball during the tournament? That day
you came down the stairs, all dressed up like we’d never seen,
I remember staring. For a moment I couldn’t think, couldn’t
breathe. And then later I noticed Ron, and the way he was looking at
you with his mouth hanging open.”

He ran his hands
through his hair, turning it unruly again. “Honestly,
I tried. I didn’t want to come between you because you’re
my closest friends. But I can’t pretend anymore. Maybe it’s
everything that’s happened recently, but I just can’t
hide what I feel.”

Harry took her
hand, the one that wasn’t holding a wine glass, like he had a
dozen times before. Only this time he turned it upwards so he could
graze her palm with his lips. “I dream about you every time I
fall asleep,” he murmured. “When I’m awake all I
can think about is you. I love you, Hermione.”

The appalled
object of his declaration tried to pull her hand away, but Harry’s
hold was too firm. Again, it wasn’t unpleasant, what he was
doing. Rather the opposite, actually. Her palm seemed to become
increasingly sensitive as he began to press kisses on it. Then, to
her shock, she felt the tip of his tongue peek out to taste her skin.
She opened her mouth to protest. “Har-!”

Harry was a
seeker, had once been Hogwarts’ youngest seeker, in fact. The
instant he saw his chance, he seized it. Before the girl could
complete his name he was kissing her again, with more force this
time. He slipped his tongue into her open mouth. He leaned into her
until she was trapped between the armrest of the couch and his body.

Hermione could
feel how literally hot he was - his lips, and the hands that that
came up to grasp her arms almost burned through her clothes. Any
doubts she had about the seriousness of his declaration was quickly
dispelled by his hungry mouth plundering hers. Any attempts she made
to talk, to reason with him, only brought her tongue flashing against
his. The sounds she made in protest sounded like whimpers.

Then it clicked.
Harry in his strange, formal clothes. A dinner carefully prepared.
Wine and a fire. And before it all, a skillfully executed scheme that
had gotten her here. Alone.

Suddenly,
Hermione felt lost. This was her best friend. She had practically
grown up with him. They had saved each other countless times, and he
had planned this. This night had never been about the horcruxes. This
was a ... seduction.

She pushed him
away, and was surprised when he let her go. She was confused when she
got up and he made no move to stop her. Maybe
she had it wrong? Maybe Harry just wanted to tell me how
he felt? He only watched as she took one step towards the
fireplace.

Of course she
would have to put out the fire, Hermione thought, before she
tottered.

Then, as her legs
turned to jelly, she understood. She looked at the boy who had been
her friend as the shock of betrayal coursed through her. He had
gotten up when she started to sway and now he was standing next to
her. He caught her as she fell.

“Harry,”
she called. And whether she called out to him in a misguided plea for
help, or whether his name was a curse on her lips not even Hermione
could say as she spiraled into unconsciousness.

“You
shouldn’t have come. I was hoping you wouldn’t.”
There was an expression of regret on the young wizard’s face as
he looked down at her. Then he turned his head briefly towards the
door and raised his wand. “Colloportus.”

Those were the
first words Hermione heard when she came to. For the first time,
Harry saw only confusion in her usually knowing brown eyes. She
couldn’t even speak.

It was the drug
he had used to spike her food, he knew. It had been far more potent
than he’d expected, or maybe it was the combination with the
wine. He had actually begun to worry when she finally woke.

Harry carefully
placed his wand on the night table, making sure it was out of her
reach. He unbuttoned his vest and shirt but left them on. Somehow, he
had the illogical idea that leaving his clothes on might make her
panic less.

“I know
about you and Ron,” he whispered as he got into the bed next to
her. He grasped her wrists when she tried to raise her hands between
them. “You want to know something, Hermione? I’d trade
anything for what Ron’s got. Parents and a family that love
him, watch over him, and now he’s got you. What do I have?”
he asked bitterly. “An empty house that’d suit the
darkest of wizards and galleons in a vault. But everyone who cares about
me is dead.”

Hermione found
herself weakly protesting, “That’s not true. You have the
Order ... friends ... Ron ... me.” Some part of her was hoping
that he would remember that she was his friend and that she could
talk him out of this.

His emerald stare
bored into her. “You say that, but the two of you are involved
now. Soon I’ll just be the pesky bloke who gets in the way.”
He felt wetness forming in his eyes, but forced it back. “Hermione,
what I have right now? I’d give it all up for you. Tell me to
leave this fight and run away with you, and I’ll do it. Or ask
me to hurl myself at Voldemort and his Death Eaters tomorrow. Be with
me, and I’ll do anything you say.”

“You can’t
mean that,” she said desperately. It was hard to think. Just
stringing the words together required a lot of effort.

It didn’t
help that she was barely finished speaking when Harry moved in to
kiss her deeply. As his tongue twined around hers, his fingers
ghosted over her neck and jaw, making her shiver. Then his lips were
there, moistly following the path laid out by his fingers.

“I do,”
he whispered against her skin. “I'll do anything. Just stay
with me tonight.”

A whimper
inadvertently escaped Hermione as his lips found a sensitive point on
her neck and gave it particular attention. She found
herself tilting her head in response to the pressure, and he took
advantage of it, sucking and nipping at the tender skin so tightly
both of them knew it would bruise.

Hermione shut her
eyes. A part of her was practically screaming at these events, but
the rest of her felt like it was floating. It was almost as if she
was watching Harry do these things to her instead of experiencing it.

Some of it, she
thought groggily, was probably denial. And the drugs. Oh Merlin,
Harry drugged me. My best friend is planning to ... NO! He’d
never do that, not Harry ... Dammit, Granger, face facts! You’re
supposed to be smart. What do you think is happening here? If this
were any other boy, you wouldn’t even be anywhere near this
situation. Focus!

While the girl
was striving to steel her mind awake, Harry moved so that he was on
top of her, straddling her thighs. He captured her lips feverishly as
his hands began to run down the buttons of her blouse. I have to
see her! He wanted to know how much of his dreams were true.

Hermione’s
eyes snapped open the moment she felt the cool air hit her bare skin.
The detachment she had been feeling up to this point began to give
way to mounting panic as the dark-haired boy popped the last of the
buttons.

Harry leaned
back, keeping his eyes on the girl’s face as he started pulling
her blouse open. Only when he felt the material bunch at her sides
did he finally dare to look down. The sight of her breasts straining
through a thin satin bra exceeded anything he had ever imagined
simply because they were real.

“Brilliant,”
he said admiringly. “So beautiful,” he rasped as he
cupped the almost bare mounds through her bra, feeling their weight
for the first time.

“Harry,
please don’t.”

He closed his
eyes. He had never heard her voice sound so small before. He almost
gave in. There was a part of him that was actually screaming, ‘What
the bloody hell are you doing? You heard her. Get your sodding hands
off her, you bastard!’

But there was
also that other voice, scaly, serpentine, the creature that had shown
up when Ron and Hermione were snogging. `And then what?’ it
asked dryly. ‘Stand aside for the redhead, like a good
little boy?’ In almost parseltongue smoothness, it crooned,
‘After all you’ve been through, don’t you
deserve at least one night with the woman you love?’

“Why, so
you can go to Ron?” he responded angrily. Then he softened and
gazed at her imploringly as he lowered his body over hers. “Why
not me, Hermione? Give me a chance, I only want to please you. I
promise I’ll make it good.”

The jolt he felt
as his bare skin finally made contact with hers for the first time
made Harry almost roll his eyes in pleasure. His trouser-clad
erection was digging into her thigh now. He couldn’t help
rubbing it against her a little.

If she could’ve,
Hermione would’ve shot off the bed. Fully awake now, she began
struggling in earnest as Harry slipped a rough hand inside the cup of
her bra and lifted one coral-tipped breast free.

“Harry,
no!” she shouted as she felt a strange hand
freely squeezing and palming her bare breast.

But he was lost
to her. The second he felt the unique smoothness of her nipple
pushing against his fingers, all the young wizard could think of was
seeing and feeling more of her. Harry slipped an arm under the
struggling girl and held her tightly against his body as his other
hand snaked up to push the blouse off of her shoulders. He yanked
the offending cloth down from the back and left it bunched halfway
down her arms, trapping them.

“No!”
Hermione cried out again, as she felt him slide the straps of her bra
as far down as they would go. Soon both her breasts were freed, and
the cups that were now under them were pushing them up, offering them
for the boy’s inspection.

For a moment
Harry gazed at her half-nakedness in stunned awe. He had never seen
anything so perfect. Unable to resist, he began planting kisses on
them frantically. His left hand reached for the nearest breast and
cupped it. He found the nipple and began rolling it gently between two fingers.
Then he lowered his mouth over the other rose-darkened tip.

The girl under
him jerked as Harry swirled his tongue experimentally around the
nipple in his mouth. She had never let anyone get this far, and
although she had touched herself in curiosity a few times there was
absolutely no comparison between her awkward fingers and the
sensation of Harry’s hot mouth engulfing the sensitive tips of
her breasts.

It didn’t
change the fact that this was the last thing she wanted, and that she
didn’t want to go where this was going. But Hermione wasn’t
in the habit of deluding herself. This was pleasure spiking
from her breasts to a warm place low in her belly.

Only it was so
bloody wrong! She bit her lip hard to stop a whimper from escaping.
She would not let her body betray her. She would not give him the
satisfaction or the encouragement.

But Harry had
already sensed something amiss. She had gone silent and stopped
moving. He lifted his head and looked at her, and there was a
familiar expression of concern on his face. “Hermione?”

The girl could
feel tears prickling behind her eyes because for a second it was as
if her friend was back, the boy she’d grown up with. She
appealed to that boy now. “Harry, stop this. Please. I ... I
don’t want to. I don’t want my best friend to – to
...” She couldn’t continue. To be raped was always one of
a girl’s worst fears. But for it to be done by someone she
trusted and truly loved as a friend - the mere thought of it sent her
tears spilling.

Her words seemed
to strike some chord in him. “Oh `Mione, don’t cry.”
He lifted himself up a little and brushed a knuckle across her cheek
to wipe some of the tears away. “I’m sorry, I -”

But whatever else
Harry meant to say was lost as a sudden blow sounded against the
door. It was so loud that it reverberated throughout the room.

“Harry!
Hermione!”

Both teenagers’
gazes whipped towards the door. The voice was one they recognized
instantly. Lupin.

“Tonks,”
they heard him say, “together!” Again, the door shook
under their combined blows but did not open.

The noise
galvanized Harry into action. He rolled off the bed, grabbed his wand
and pointed it at the door. “No, you’re not taking her
from me!” he yelled defiantly. “Colloportus maxima!”
A blue point of light flew from his wand and shimmered around the
door.

While he was
distracted, Hermione sat up and quickly fixed her clothes. Her eyes
frantically roamed the room. Where had Harry placed her wand?

“Harry!”
It was Lupin again. “Do not do anything rash, do you
understand? You’re under a spell. It’s making you do
things you would never ordinarily do. It will try to make you hurt
Hermione.”

“I would
never hurt her!” the young wizard denied hotly. “I love
her! You’re lying, you just want her too! Leave us
alone!”

There was a
second’s pause, and then it was Tonks who answered in a calm,
methodical voice. “Harry, listen to me. No one is trying to
take Hermione from you. We’re only trying to help. We just want
to know if she’s okay.”

At the mention of
her name, the girl got to her feet, carefully keeping the bed between
her and Harry. “I’m alright!” she called out. As
she feared, her voice brought her tormentor whirling around to face
her.

Sounding
relieved, Tonks addressed the witch directly. “Hermione,
listen! Is there anything you see on Harry that’s new? Some
object you’ve never seen before?”

The girl’s
eyes instantly flicked to the Gryffindor miniature still pinned to
Harry’s open vest. “Yes.”

“He has to
take it off,” Tonks said urgently. “It’s part of
what’s making him act this way.”

Hermione lifted
her gaze to the young wizard’s face.

His expression
was wary, full of distrust. “No.”

“What would
be the harm?” she asked, trying to reason with him.

“No.”

Think, girl,
think! “Then you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t
believe you,” Hermione said in as cool a voice as she could
manage.

He looked
confused. “What?”

“You say
you love me, but what if it’s just this spell talking? I mean,
what are you afraid of? Tonks and Lupin are outside. The door’s
barred. What difference does it make if you take the pin off or not?”

She thought she
had him. If his mind was as addled as it seemed ... Then Harry
chuckled. “Clever, Hermione. I’ve always liked that about
you,” he continued, smiling. “Alright, I’ll do it.
On one condition.”

“Yes?”

“Come
here.”

Oh no way. No
way in hell.

“Fair
trade,” he said reasonably. “You want the pin? You can
have it. All I want in return is a kiss.”

“No,”
she whispered.

The half-smile
fell and Harry turned serious. “I’m not a fool, `Mione. I
know Lupin and Tonks are about to break down that door. I just want
one willing kiss from you, one kiss from the woman I love that I
don’t have to take. That’s all.”

Hermione stared
at him in disbelief. “You know that’s not possible. Not
after what you tried to do.”

The young wizard
actually hung his head. “Yeah.” Slowly, he turned so that
he was facing the door again. He raised his wand. “I guess this
is it then.”

“What’re
you doing?” she exclaimed in alarm.

Harry quirked a
brief, dead grin. “I’m going to fight, Hermione. Till
Lupin and Tonks have no choice but to kill me. You see, I gambled
everything that mattered to me tonight. I lost. You and Ron will hate
me now. So none of it matters anymore, does it?”

“You’re
mad!”

Again that
humorless smile. “Probably.” He took a deep breath. “For
what it’s worth, I’m sorry I hurt you. I just wanted ...”

“I think I
can guess what you wanted!” she retorted sharply.

“No,
`Mione,” he said in the gentlest voice. “All I wanted was
to love you for one night. In my dreams, you always gave me a
chance,” he mused wistfully.

Stark, barking
mad. Either that or ... Suddenly the girl’s mind latched
onto something. What had Lupin said? A spell? There were entire
philosophies built around the question of how much you could hold a
person under a spell responsible for his or her actions. Hermione
knew because she had studied every one of them. Real life had also provided plenty of examples. Madam Rosmerta was
the most recent one, struck by an Imperius Curse, and way before
that, a young Ginny, an unwilling victim to the ghost of an unclean memory.

Which meant she
had a choice to make. She could let Harry fight it out. After his
betrayal, she could stand seeing him get hurt. Surely Lupin and
Tonks would be able to take him down without killing him. But then
anything could go wrong. What if Harry managed to hurt them in the
process?

“Put the
wand down.” Her voice shook as she took a tiny step forward.
Even though she had faced so many dangers before, she had never been
so frightened in her life.

Harry glanced at
her and, without a single word, laid his wand down on the night
table. He didn’t take his eyes off her even when the door shook
again, harder this time.

His hands
clenched at his sides as the girl stopped inches away from him. He
fought off the urge to grab her, and as he did for a second his mind
cleared. You’re under a spell. It will try to make you hurt
Hermione ... No way would I do that. NO way. Oh Merlin, what am I doing?!

“Take it,”
he told her through gritted teeth. Sweat stood out on his forehead.

“What?”

Harry shut his
eyes. “I can’t do it. Just thinking about trying makes me
... just take it off, Hermione!”

She didn’t
have to be told twice. Hermione grabbed the pin from his vest and
wrenched it away.

And was instantly
assaulted by feelings so strong that it literally took her breath
away. She gazed in disbelief at the tiny piece of jewelry in her
hand. The ruby eye of the miniature lion seemed to wink at her.

Godric’s
blood, this is what Harry’s been feeling?! It was as if
every nerve in her body was switched on. It felt almost exactly like
that day in the woods with Ron, but a dozen times worse.

Except that it
wasn’t Ron her body was singing for now. It was the tall, lean,
raven-haired wizard standing in front of her who had her complete
attention. Had she never really noticed how attractive he was?

“Harry.”

His eyes flew
open at the new note in her voice, and at the touch of Hermione’s
fingers tugging his head down and gently winding through his hair.
“Hermione.” He breathed her name for an instant before
his lips found hers.

It was the
sweetest and longest kiss he had shared with her all evening. With a
muffled cry of joy, Harry enfolded her in his arms.

When the door
finally gave way, that was how Lupin and Tonks found them. It took a
lot of convincing (and in Harry’s case, a lot of tugging,
swearing and finally a knockout spell) to pull them apart.

Hermione watched
as Harry was safely bound and levitated back to his bed. Lupin took
the pin from her with a gloved hand and carefully tucked it away in a
box.

Then Tonks gently
placed a blanket over the shoulders of the shivering girl. “Are
you alright, Hermione?” she asked gently. Lupin hovered
nearby, but he had the sense to keep his distance from the distraught
young witch.

“No.”
With that one softly spoken word, Hermione's control dissolved. She
clung weakly to the sympathetic Auror and wept brokenly for the
friendship she had lost tonight. Whatever else happened, she
knew she would never trust Harry, or anyone else, the same way again.

Wasn't able to
update for awhile because some glitch wouldn't let me log in. I just
found out that this story got a thousand hits ... and a grand total
of two new reviews for the new chapter. Honestly, my writer's ego is
about the same level as the floor. Thank goodness for readers like
Sammie and TCM, or I wouldn't have posted a new chapter at all.

Sammie: Glad you
liked the throw off. It was a little hard to write, but I wanted to
show how dreams and reality were starting to blur for Harry. Hope you
like this chapter too.

TCM: Thanks!
You'll find out more about Snape's plan next chapter.
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