More Important Things | By : twitchelittleferret Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 15269 -:- 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. |
The Wedding
Like a flower waiting to bloom
Like a lightbulb in a dark room
I'm just sitting here waiting for you
To come home and turn me on
Like the desert waiting for the rain
Like a school kid waiting for the spring
I'm just sitting here waiting for you
To come on home and turn me on
(Turn Me On—Norah Jones)
~*~
The noise of the Burrow filled the air and the sound of Harry and
Hermione's apparition was lost in the melee. There were people going about
their tasks carrying flowers, cakes, trays, food.
“Oh, wow!” Hermione breathed when she saw the product of months
work on transforming the backyard into a beautiful English garden.
“Yeah,” Harry nodded in agreement. He too was taken in by its
beauty. A garden perfect for the wedding that was taking place today.
“Hey guys!” Ron trotted out of the Burrow to greet his friends.
“Place looks amazing doesn't it?”
“It looks incredible!” Hermione replied.
“Yeah, well, come inside and join the fun!”
They followed their friend inside and found that it was even more
busy inside than out. Harry briefly wondered if the house had been magically
expanded inside to accommodate so many people, all the wedding guests. Ginny
came bounding down the stairs, curlers in her hair and Harry couldn't help but
notice that she was wearing a slim-fitting robe.
“Hello, Harry,” she greeted him as she practically bounced in his
arms and gave him a peck on the cheek. He breathed in her familiar flowery
scent, his arms reluctantly letting her go. She and Hermione began to chatter
excitedly at an incredible speed before Ginny had grabbed her hand and yanked
her upstairs with her.
“Mental,” Ron shook his head. “Come on out back, we've got a game
started.”
*
The smell of perfumes and potions assaulted Hermione as soon as
Ginny opened the door to her parents' bedroom. The noise level was definitely
louder as well. Fleur was in the center of the room being fussed on by an
impossible amount of people.
“Hermione, you remember Fleur's little sister Gabrielle?” Ginny
introduced a now taller and younger replica of her older sister. How many years
had passed?
“'ello, `ermione,” she greeted her.
Hermione got ready in the room with the other girls, coveting
Gabrielle's and Ginny's spectacular lavender gowns. Only those two could make
those gowns look gorgeous on them. Their hair was piled on top of their heads
revealing their slender and gracious necks.
“Lord Ginny,” Hermione breathed. “You're going to kill Harry.” Ginny
blushed at her comment. Hermione felt the need to express just how lovely Ginny
did look. The late night broom ride with Harry left her feeling guilty and
remorseful and she felt that she had to redeem herself as a good friend.
Ginny and Gabrielle only used half the bottle of Sleekeasy's,
leaving Hermione's hair in soft curls that fell just past her shoulders. She
wore a pale blue sundress that had spaghetti straps and fell lightly over her
curves to fall just below her knee. She wore a silver delicate necklace with a
heart pendant that dangled from it. Her strappy sandals matched the dress,
completing the outfit.
But as much as the three girls looked lovely in their dresses,
they were nothing compared the half-Veela bride that Fleur made. Sighs and gasps
filled the room when she stepped into her wedding dress, the finely spun white
silk that encapsulated every little girls dream dress on her own special day.
Matrons looked upon her, recalling the days when they had worn the dress of
their dreams to marry the men of their dreams. The young woman gazed enviously
at Fleur, hoping that one day they will get to be princesses for a day.
*
The guys came in from outside, chattering excitedly about the game
of quidditch they had played as Molly came rushing in the room, demanding that
they get ready. Arthur had to calm her down and send her on her way with
assurances that she would get the men to the altar on time and clean.
Donning dress robes similar to the ones he had worn to the Yule
Ball, Harry glanced over at Ron and was glad to see his friend in better dress
robes than that eventful night. His thoughts strayed to how Hermione looked
that night in her shimmery periwinkle dress, his reaction to seeing her as she
walked by on…Viktor's arm.
“You nervous?” George clapped a hand on Bill's back, bringing
Harry out of his reverie.
“Not at all,” Bill beamed.
“Lucky bastard,” Fred muttered slyly to his brother. “We got a
gift for you to take on your honeymoon.”
“Oh no,” Bill's smile dropped and his face filled with anxiety.
The twins laughed.
George pulled out a bottle of wine from behind his back.
“What is it?” Bill glanced warily at the bottle.
“Something to drink on your honeymoon tonight,” George said evasively.
“Trust us, you want to have this,” Fred added waggling his
eyebrows.
Harry looked at Ron who was grinning and Ron whispered, “They were
debating on whether to slip a little in his drink before the ceremony but
Charlie talked them out of it. Imagine the world of trouble they would be in if
Bill's…you know…was standing at attention through the whole ceremony.”
Harry suppressed a laugh as the men headed out into the garden. As
they passed the stairs, the glimpse of a creamy leg with a strappy sandal caught
Harry and Ron's eye and they followed it up to reveal Hermione walking down the
stairs.
“Hello boys,” she said. “Don't you look handsome.”
Harry somehow lost all ability to talk, or think for that matter.
“Ooh, Hermione. I've got first dance,” Fred said from behind the
two boys, bringing them out of their stupor. George ribbed his little brother
and Harry was annoyed with Ron's bravery to step over to her and take her hand.
“Wow, Hermione,” he said. “As an usher for this wedding, it is my
duty to make sure you are escorted to your seat,” he said importantly. Hermione
laughed, the sound causing something to stir violently within Harry as he
walked behind them.
Hermione turned back to look at him. “Harry, you should see Ginny.
She looks absolutely beautiful. And you both won't believe how gorgeous Fleur
looks.”
You look gorgeous, Harry wanted to say but his mind was
caught between tackling Ron to the ground to take his place or to be a good
friend and join in the conversation. It was a stalemate so he thought it best
to just keep his trap shut and find a seat.
“See you guys later,” Ron said after he showed Hermione to her
seat and left to escort the other guests.
Harry took a seat next to her. Say something, say something you
idiot. “Uh you look really…nice, Hermione.” UGH!!!
“Oh, thank you!” she replied genuinely.
They made small talk, commenting on some of the guests that had
arrived. A few people looked familiar, they saw Olympe and Hagrid. The latter
waved to the two of them and Harry motioned that they would catch up later. At
some point, he rested his arm on the back of her chair and he finally began to
relax into their conversation. Their broom ride pushed to the back of their
minds for now.
Until she crossed her legs.
It was a gesture so feminine and it revealed more of her leg to
him that it sped up his heart rate considerably. Those damned traitorous
thoughts began to creep into his mind and he tried his best to fight against
them.
“Did you open it?” Hermione whispered.
That did it.
“For crying out loud, Hermione,” Harry muttered quietly, taking
his arm off the back of her chair and leaning forward to place his elbows on
his knees.
“Well, did you?” she whispered back.
Harry looked away. “No, not yet.”
Hermione looked at him, wondering why he hadn't while at the same
time knowing why he didn't. She wanted to say something comforting to him but
couldn't find the words. Instead she placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked
up at her, gazing into her pretty brown eyes.
The processional music started up and their attentions were now on
the wedding party walking down the aisle. Hermione heard a sharp inhale from
behind her as Ginny walked down the aisle on the arm of Charlie. Hermione
looked back and nearly laughed out loud at the dumbstruck expression on her
friend's face. Harry looked down at her and frowned as he clucked impatiently.
He reached over and playfully pinched her arm before resting it once again on
the back of her chair, a breath away from where he touched her. Ron walked down
next with lovely little Gabrielle on his arm. As he passed he gave his two
friends a quick thumbs up. Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes at their friend
and his good fortune of the beautiful bridesmaid on his arm. They stood when
the Wedding March began to play, indicating the bride's arrival. Harry had
never seen anything so beautiful in his life when he saw Fleur walk down the
aisle. Every man present had to be envious of Bill. Harry was sure
that her Veela-ness didn't help matters either as most of the men in attendance
were blatantly ogling her.
As Bill and Fleur stood in front of everyone and recited their
vows to one another, Harry couldn't help but feel lost. Would he ever get this
chance? Would he stand up in front of everyone and proclaim his love to that
one person who would complete him? Would he ever live that long to get that
chance? It seemed horrible to him to be thinking such dark thoughts on such a
lovely day.
He felt Hermione's hand slip into his and he looked over at her.
Hermione saw the look on his face and knew what he had been thinking. What
could she say to make him feel better? She squeezed his hand and whispered,
“You will, Harry. You will. She'll wait for you.” She turned her attention back
to the couple at the altar. Harry gazed at Hermione a moment longer before he,
too, looked up front.
“May I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Bill Weasley!” the ministry
wizard proclaimed. “You may now kiss…” Fleur jumped the gun and yanked Bill to
her in a passionate kiss. “…the groom?” the wizard finished. Fred and George
whooped as everyone clapped for the happy couple. Harry heard sniffling next to
him and looked at Hermione.
“Are you crying?” he asked with laughter in his voice. He offered
her his handkerchief and she snatched it from his hands.
“Oh shut it,” she said as she dabbed her eyes with it. “It was a
beautiful ceremony.” Harry laughed and hugged Hermione to him.
~*~
“Shall we?” Ginny asked, extending a hand out to Harry. He
nervously eyed the dance floor where the wedding guests swayed to the slow
melody that was playing.
“Of course,” he said, getting up from his seat. Please don't
let me step on her toes.
Hermione and Ron were left alone at the table. Ron had been
unusually quiet throughout the reception. He had yet to ask Hermione to dance.
She turned to look at him as he played with his food in front of him.
“What is it?” she asked him with concern.
Ron let out a heavy sigh then looked at his female best friend
sitting next to him. She would hate him, think him a prat.
“I've just been thinking,” he said quietly.
“About?”
“This. Us,” he gestured around him.
Hermione reached for the glass of cooled pumpkin juice and took a
long drink. Ron turned to look at her.
“I mean, don't you feel it, Hermione?” he asked and continued
forward at the blank look on her face. “This,” he gestured between the two of
them, “us. It feels…borrowed or put on hold or something.”
Hermione smiled softly at him, understanding what he meant. “It
feels as if we're stuck in mud and not going anywhere just yet.”
“Exactly,” Ron exhaled. “Do you hate me?” he asked softly, gazing
up at her. “Doing this to you on such a happy day?”
“Of course I don't,” she placed a hand on his arm. “I've been
feeling the same way.”
“Merlin knows I love you, Hermione and I always will.”
“I feel the same way, Ron.” She reached for him and brought him
into a hug.
“Maybe it's this war, Harry's task or whatever but now I
understand why Harry broke up with Ginny. It feels as if everything is on
hold.”
The broom ride with Harry cut sharply into her mind and she held
Ron a little closer to her.
“Maybe when this whole thing is over. Maybe then it will be the
time,” Ron said but Hermione could tell by his tone that it wasn't going to
happen.
She broke from the hug and squeezed his arms. “Maybe,” she
replied. And as horrible as they felt about doing this to each other it felt as
if a weight had been lifted from them.
Ron took her hand and stood up. “Come on, let's dance,” he said
quietly.
He led her on the dance floor as another slow song started.
Hermione placed her hand in his and wrapped her other arm around his shoulder.
It was hard thing for her to admit defeat. She had prided herself in succeeding
in life, she had been at the top of her class, the smartest witch of her age,
model daughter for her parents. Her first failed relationship was a big blow to
her self-image, the ideal she built herself up to be. She wiped away the single
tear that fell down her cheek. Ron rested his cheek against the top of her
head, turning slightly to apply a comforting kiss.
*
The guests clapped and cheered as Bill and Fleur cut the cake and
fed a piece of it to each other. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had their
pieces served to them.
“It's about time,” Ron said hungrily. “I've been waiting all day
for this.”
“I think Fleur is trying to make the rest of us fat,” Ginny said,
eyeing the large piece of cake she and Hermione received. It was no bigger than
the guy's but Hermione looked just as thrilled as her to eat such a large
piece.
“I'll split with you,” Hermione offered, handing her piece over to
Ron.
“Hey guys, what's up?” Harry said as Fred and George sat down to
join them.
“Unbelievable,” Fred said as he looked onto the dance floor. “Even
Hagrid is going to hookup tonight.” Hagrid and Olympe revolved slowly on the
dance floor, taking up so much space that the few guests on the dance floor
were in danger of being trampled on.
“I think they look adorable,” Ginny defended.
“No luck?” Ron asked, amused with his brothers.
“Haven't even started yet,” George said. “We've been checking
those bridesmaids out all this time, seeing our options.”
“You guys are disgusting,” Hermione tutted.
“What makes you think they are interested anyway?” Ginny said
snarkily.
“Nothing gets a woman more worked up than seeing their friend get
married,” Fred said.
“Hormones and emotions are all high,” George added.
“All you gotta do is be there at the right time.”
Harry and Ron looked over the twin's shoulders at the lovely
friends of Fleur's from Beauxbatons. They were grouped together laughing, once
in awhile they would look over in their direction. Harry made eye contact with
one of them and she winked at him.
“Blimey,” Ron whispered.
“They've been eyeing the Boy-Who-Lived all day. If anyone has a
chance with them it's you,” George said. Harry could feel the heat coming off
of his face. The honorable part of him demanded that he be modest and dismiss
the bridemaid's advances under the scrutinizing eyes of Hermione and Ginny. But
the teenager in him rationalized that he was facing an evil wizard in his
future and he didn't want to die a virgin, did he?
“Leave him alone, George,” Ginny said irritably.
“Let me make amends dear sis,” George said as he held out a hand
to his sister. As the two of them left the dance floor, Fred turned to
Hermione.
“I believe that I owe you a dance,” he said as he took her hand.
“Keep your hands above the waist,” Ron warned as they left the
table. Harry watched Hermione laugh at something Fred said as they swayed to
the music. His eyes fell on Fred's hand that was resting on her back and a pang
of longing came over him suddenly. He should ask Hermione to dance but the
moment he thought that he squashed that thought down. Holding Hermione in his
arms would open himself to a world of temptation that he really couldn't handle
right now. Especially right under her boyfriend's nose.
“Oh bloody hell,” Ron said, breaking Harry from his thoughts. He
looked over at his friend and saw Ron trying to cower under the table but
trying not to be too obvious about it. The reason he was doing this, Harry saw,
was walking toward them at that moment.
Lovely Gabrielle and the stunning Fleur were walking toward them.
Harry swallowed audibly.
“Ron,” Fleur said, “you `ave not asked me to dance yet.” She
flashed him a smile that rendered Ron defenseless.
“Er…,” he stammered.
Harry smirked and nearly shoved Ron up and out of his seat to
dance with the beautiful bride.
“'arry?” Gabrielle nodded to the dance floor. As they danced,
Harry couldn't believe that the young woman in his arms was the same little
girl that he had pulled out of the lake during his fourth year. My how time
flies.
*
Fred and George tackled each other to catch Fleur's garter and
rolled around a bit on the ground to the guests' entertainment until George
finally wrestled it out of Fred's hands. Harry and Ron had avoided the thing
like it was poison. The bridesmaid's were still staring at Harry like he was a
prime cut of meat. But as entertaining as the twins' melee was, it was nothing
compared to the carnage that erupted when Fleur threw her bouquet.
“Nice,” Fred said appreciatively at the tangle of arms and legs.
Harry and Ron thought that Fred did have a point with the group of young
hotties wrestling on the ground, catfighting. Harry was sure he heard the
distinct sound of fabric ripping. Eventually, a familiar head of brown hair
emerged victoriously with the bouquet held triumphantly over her head, blowing
a strand of stray hairs out of her face.
“YES!” Harry shouted as the Weasley's around him groaned and began
to dig into their robes.
“Damn it,” Charlie grumbled as he handed over his galleons to
Harry. The twins and Charlie had bet on Ginny and Ron had bet on Gabrielle.
Harry was the only one to pick the brown haired beauty and reaped the winnings
from the other guests in the pool.
As George danced with Hermione, Fred whined that he was robbed,
Harry realized that his opportunities to dance with Hermione were dwindling
rapidly as some of the Beauxbaton guys began to take notice of the girl who
took the bouquet.
Slowly the guests began to take their leave and Harry's anxiety
grew. Any moment now the music would stop playing and he would've lost his
chance. The bride and groom had long left the reception. The sun had set long
ago and the light from the fairies that had been hired zoomed among the guests
and the laterns that lit the dance floor. Harry worked up his nerve and began
to approach Hermione but was intercepted by one of the bridesmaids. By the time
Harry had fended her off, Hermione had been taken already but some tall brown
haired git. The last note of the song had played and he once again sought
Hermione out but some other bloke had gotten in ahead of him. Harry cursed
inwardly, cursed his cowardice at not having asked her sooner.
“Hey,” Ginny said softly as she approached him. “Wanna dance?”
“Sure,” Harry replied kindly.
As they danced, Ginny rested her head on his chest and Harry
licked his subconscious wounds in her comforting presence. He chanced a glance
over at Hermione. She caught his eye eventually and gave him a small wink.
Harry returned her gesture with a half-hearted smile.
“Oh man. What a day!” Ron flopped himself on the couch next to
Harry. Harry loosened his tie and sighed in agreement.
“Whoever invented these bloody things,” Hermione said as she took
off her sandals, “should be hexed…badly.”
Harry watched as she sat down on the rug before the fire and
rubbed her feet. Her dress draped around her thigh, revealing more leg to him.
He finished the champagne in the flute he had been holding and set it down on
the stand next to him. Gabrielle and Ginny joined them, Gabrielle sitting next
to Hermione, Ginny opted for the couch.
“Now the party can properly begin,” George announced as he and his
twin walked into the room carrying a more bottles of champagne and a couple
bottles of Firewhiskey.
“Oh, this stuff is soooo good,” Hermione cooed as she took a
bottle from him much to Harry's surprise. George had opened it and Hermione
took a drink from it.
“Only ze best from France,” Gabrielle chimed in as Hermione handed
her the bottle to drink from.
There was something so…hot about the two of them sharing
the bottle of champagne. Harry could tell he wasn't the only one who thought so
as he spied Ron watching the lucky bottle with envy. Harry took the bottle of
Firewhiskey and took a drink, the alcohol burning his throat as it went down.
It was halfway through Fred and George entertaining everyone with
their stories that Harry surmised that he was buzzed. The lightheaded feeling
in his head was accompanied by a sense of boldness. He allowed himself to gaze
at Hermione just a little longer, following that creamy leg to as far as his
imagination would allow. By the time Ginny fell asleep, her chest rising and
falling rhythmically, and Ron began to snore loudly, Harry was sure he was
drunk. And by the time the twins and Gabrielle fell asleep on the rug, Harry
was flat out smashed.
Hermione got up slowly to retrieve a cushion from the couch but
thought better of it when she began to sway dangerously as she got to her
knees. She plopped back down and stared into the fire, the flames hypnotizing
her. Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around her and brought her to her feet.
“Come on, Hermione,” Harry whispered.
“Harry,” she replied
softly. The alcohol on each other's breaths were heavy and they swayed
dangerously as they stood.
“Where are we going?” she asked through her muddled thoughts.
Harry led them outside as they stumbled on the steps.
“I never got a chance to dance with you,” Harry said.
Hermione looked around and saw that she was on the dance floor.
Everything was so fuzzy to her. “Oh, that's okay, Harry,” she said sincerely.
She was glad that he didn't because it would be so awkward after their broom ride.
“That's why I didn't,” Harry said. Oh, she must have said that
aloud.
Harry slid a hand around her waist to rest at the small of her
back as Hermione wrapped her arms around him, stumbling flush against his body.
They swayed to unheard music under the star filled sky.
Harry turned his head and buried his nose in her hair, surrounding
himself in the light scent of her shampoo. A hand came up to wrap a finger
around a curl of her hair. The alcohol filled his brain and he found himself
kissing the top of her head. Hermione, once again, tilted her head slightly to
give him access to her neck. Harry seized the opportunity and began to place
kisses along that wonderful patch of skin.
Hermione let out an unbidden moan that sent blood rushing to
Harry's loins, leaving Harry's alcohol-flooded brain. With each kiss, the
coherent thoughts that she had been desperately grasping to began to leave and
was replaced with a wonderful feeling that began in her belly and began to
blossom throughout her. It felt sooooo good to have him like this in her arms.
His kisses reached the bottom of her chin and Hermione tightened her grip on
his shoulders as she tilted her head down to have her lips collide with his.
She immediately opened herself to him as his lips touched hers and
Harry plundered her mouth, exploring this new and forbidden land. Her mouth was
hot and wet and it fueled Harry's desire further.
His hands boldly moved down her back to the round firmness as he
cupped her, pressing her more against him. She vaguely processed that there was
something hard pressing against her belly but his evident reaction to her urged
her on as her hand slid down his shirt, unbuttoning a few buttons before coming
to rest at his hips. She broke their kiss only to begin kissing his neck as she
untucked his shirt from his pants, slipping her hands underneath to feel the
warmth of his abdomen. Harry moaned in approval. He needed more of her.
“Where are we going?” Hermione slurred as she and Harry stumbled
back towards the house.
“Shh,” Harry said as they made their way into the house and up the
stairs, hitting nearly every loose floorboard.
He opened the door to Ron's room and let Hermione inside. She sat
on the bed and looked up at Harry as he closed the door behind them. He pounced
on her again, kissing her sweet lips as he moved them further onto the bed and
lowering her to rest on it. His hand fell on the leg farthest from him and she
brought her knee up, the dress once again falling to expose her thigh. Harry
followed the fabric as he kissed her, his fingers tracing the soft skin before
touching a strap of fabric. It was her knickers. Reluctantly, his fingers moved
away and he rested his hand on the bed beside her as he moved himself over her.
Her dress was bunched at her hips but all care for the delicate
fabric left her when she felt Harry press against her. Even through the layers
of clothing that separated them, she could feel him as he thrust himself gently
against her. It was awkward feeling him between her thighs and his weight
pressing gently down on her. But she welcomed it and lifted her feet from the
bed to wrap her legs around him, her ankles hooking together. He continued to
rock against her, the fabric rubbing against her began to stir something
pleasurable within her.
His fingers traced a thin spaghetti strap of her dress, sliding it
off her shoulder as she shrugged out of it. He did the same to the other one as
well before exploring the undiscovered territory of her chest. His hand slid up
the side of her body, over the gentle curve of her breast and hooked his
fingers over the dress' neckline, gently tugging the fabric down. The soft
flesh of her breast was exposed, the rose colored nipple demanded his attention
and he complied. Hermione moaned as he sucked, licked and tugged at her, his
hand kneading the soft flesh. He freed the other breast to lavish equal
attention to it. He felt her buck slightly against him, bringing his attention
to other parts of her body and he ground himself a little more roughly against
her.
He brought one hand back to her side, tracing down the side of her
body and to her thigh. He moved to lay at her side. His hands moved up the soft
flesh, under the dress and touching the strap of her knickers at her hip. Harry
had once seen a muggle cartoon in which the character had an angel and a devil
sitting at his shoulder, debating as to what he should do. He thought of that
as he hesitated his next move. He imagined his angel counterpart appearing on
his shoulder.
“Don't do it,” it said, “you've done enough damage to your
friendships as it is. Stop here and walk away. Just walk away Harry.”
His devil counterpart popped up. “Is she wearing a thong?”
“Don't listen to him!” the angel screeched. “Listen to me! Your
best friend is passed out downstairs! You're snogging her on his bed, for
crying out loud!”
The devil chimed in. “How hot is that? Besides, how good a friend
was he anyway? Did he take Harry's feelings for Hermione into consideration
before he asked Hermione out? Did he think of him then? Go for it, Harry.”
“No, no, no,” the angel shook his head. “Harry had no claim on
her.”
The devil took his pitchfork and beat the angel over the head with
it. “Listen to me, Harry. She was yours long before Ron took her. You had a
claim over her and you didn't even know it. Take. Her.”
Harry kissed her lips as he moved the damp cloth aside and slid
his finger into her. Hermione had been desperately fighting the sleep that
threatened to overcome her and his entrance had startled her. She had never let
Ron get this far but she couldn't stop, she didn't want to stop, she was
helpless in his arms.
His kiss muffled her surprise as his finger entered her soft and
wet heat. The action drove him mad with desire. He was quickly approaching the
point where he couldn't, no, wouldn't turn back. He slid another finger
inside her and Hermione clutched at his arms. He wasn't sure if what he was
doing was right, as he moved his fingers but she hadn't stopped him. In fact,
her hands were now wandering to his belt, fumbling in the darkness and in her
drunkenness to undo it. He left her warmth to help her, gently brushing her
hands aside as he undid his belt, unbuttoned himself and slid his zipper down.
He inhaled sharply when Hermione's hand wrapped around him. She drove him mad
with her strokes, each movement fueling his already raging desire for her. Her
hand fell to her side and Harry looked up at her.
“Hermione?” he whispered softly.
“Hmm?” she opened her eyes at him.
Merlin, how he wanted her. Her body silhouetted in the moonlight,
her hair fanned out beneath her head. His hand moved to her knickers again,
hooking underneath the strap and began to tug down.
“Harry, stop.” The beaten down angel popped into his head again.
“Look at her.”
Harry looked down at her and saw that she had passed out. He
sighed and rested his head against her belly.
“What am I doing?” he whispered. “What are we doing?”
He moved off of her and zipped himself up, pulled her dress up to
cover her and did his best to put her knickers back on her. He placed a blanket
over her and stumbled out of the room. He was dizzy when he walked and knocked
into the wall a couple of times before he made his way to the loo. He closed
the door behind him and splashed water on his face. His reflection looked back
at him, pityingly.
“Too much to drink?” it asked.
Harry shook his head. “You have no idea.”
The thought of what he was about to do with Hermione when her
boyfriend, his best friend, was passed out downstairs made him sick to his
stomach.
Really sick.
Harry fell to his knees and vomited into the toilet. He had no
idea he could throw up so much. Just when he thought he was done, it kept
going. He groaned as he shut the lid and flushed it. The room was still
spinning and he didn't think he would make it back downstairs again. And there
was no way in hell he was going back down the hall to Ron's room. He needed to
stay as far away from that vixen as he could. He climbed into the tub and
closed his eyes. The memory of a young boy with red hair, carrying a rat,
entering his compartment and asking if the seat was taken was the last thing
that went through his mind before he closed his eyes.
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