Chapter 10: Trying and TrainsSummary:Harry's horny. What's new.
Rita is shitting her pants.
Hermione's savage.
Lav the bestie everybody wants.
Ron is an insecure bunny.
Ginny needs to get her head checked.
Mrs Weasley MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS JESUS.
Kreacher you icon.
Sneaky Dobby.
Plans.
Notes:Hiya good people. I'm baack.
It's like 2 am and I'm almost dead while I'm finishing the last touches, so yeah.
Thank God it's a little filler chap.
See ya in the comments!
And sorry for the progressively unhinged smut.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text"GOLDEN COUPLE: THE BOY-WHO-LIVED AND THE BRIGHTEST WITCH OF HER AGE
By Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly best-selling Journalist and Author.
He's done it again!
Harry Potter (sixteen years of age, from Gryffindor House)… the Boy-Who-Lived…impossible means nothing if he's the one who takes action.
… soirée hosted by the esteemed Potioneer and Professor Horace Slughorn…
"Oh, my boy is absolutely talented in the subject… with Miss Granger, of course, even more brilliant than… yes, of course, most pleasing students… offer private tutelage… honoured to host their Bonding…"
-Horace Slughorn, Potioneer…
…black and burgundy robes branded… composed and mature young man, full of the charisma befitting the Heir of a Most Ancient and Most Noble… the young, tragic hero…
"Very polite boy, with none of the airs I expected from him… heard he's the Youngest Seeker in a Century, very talented… shame he's a man…"
-Gwenog Jones, Holyhead Harpies Quidditch…
Your author… the Battle of the Department of Mysteries… Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge… Magical Community against the One we now know is our only hope…
This author… misconceptions about Mr Potter and his long-time closest friend…
Hermione Granger (seventeen years of age, Muggleborn from Gryffindor House)… her peers… beautiful, brave… the Brightest Witch of Her Age.
Miss Granger… Triwizard Tournament,1994…not-so-favourable terms.
… take responsability… amend errors.
…'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache', 1994… sources your author genuinely believed to be reliable… personal vendetta against the young witch.
In light of… retraction of my previous misguided article on Miss Granger and Mr Potter's relationship.
…the two were never in a romantic relationship during the Tournament… any developments in their personal life have been above board and clear to everyone… this year.
"Harry and Hermione? They're perfect for each other… they've been just friends until a few weeks before the Party."
-Neville Longbottom, Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom, Gryffindor…
The Daily Prophet wants to make public amends… reproach all readers… sending hexed mail to an underage witch…
… will not condone such behaviour… reported to the DMLE.
…main event.
A Soulbond!
… stunning couple… danced underneath the fairy lights… shared their first kiss.
… photograph… exact moment when the Bond was sealed. A blinding golden light… magical dome… Headmaster Dumbledore escorted the legendary couple…
…is the first instance in more than seven hundred years. The Bond is wrapped in legend and mystery, tales of two halves of a whole and enormous powers…
Very little is known of miraculous events like Soulmates finding each other.
…Mr Potter and his newly minted Mrs Potter have decided to issue their first official interview…
… congratulate the couple and rejoice…
… The Chosen Ones?"
"Well, that's better than I expected," Hermione closed the special evening edition of the newspaper and threw it on her nightstand, resting her head back on Harry's bare chest.
"I still hate this," he mumbled sleepily, placing a kiss on top of her hair.
"I do, too," she sighed. "But it's either building up the legend of the Soulmates and enduring the attention or lacking both authority and credibility during the war." Harry shook his head in denial.
"That's not it. I'm used to the attention by now, Mi, as much as I detest it. The problem is that we've drawn an even bigger target on your back with this stunt."
"I was going to be Voldemort's second person of interest even as your best friend, Harry. Undesirable Number Two, remember? And I'm perfectly capable of keeping myself safe, you know that."
Harry sighed.
"It's not that I don't trust you to take care of yourself, Mi. It's just… I've already put you in danger too many times to count, and I'm worried at some point you'll… realise you'd be better off without me."
Harry's vulnerability was not as surprising as it had been a few weeks before, but it still felt like a concession to Hermione.
To be his confidante was an honour to her, especially knowing how life had treated him in the past.
"Harry," Hermione took his head in her hands, her thumbs brushing his light morning stubble. "There's no world in which I would ever be better without you. You're my Soulmate, yes, but even without this link, you would still be the man I chose for myself and my best friend. I will choose you, always. No matter the risk."
The honesty in her eyes was unmistakable.
"What did I do to deserve you?" Harry flipped them on their sides, circling her waist with an arm.
"I don't know, frankly. Maybe we saved the Galaxy in our past life?"
"From saving Wizarding Britain to saving the Galaxy is a big leap, Mi."
"Do not doubt my potential," Harry chuckled.
"Far from it. You're the most brilliant, most talented, most beautiful…"
"Harry!" Hermione swatted his hand playfully.
"What? It's the truth. My brilliant, stunning wife," he turned her face around to claim her lips.
'Are you trying to sell me something?' Hermione's laugh echoed in his mind.
Harry scoffed. 'As if I'd need that as a reason to compliment my witch.'
'Well, in that case,' Hermione's hand travelled into his boxers. 'Do say more if you can.'
Harry's eyes closed in pleasure, his body already hard and wanting.
'Mi…'
'Yeah?' Her thumb wiped away a dollop of liquid from the head of his cock.
'We have to catch the train,' Harry's breath was ragged.
'We can be quick…' Hermione continued her ministrations, her other hand tracing circles on his torso. "Or we can get dressed," she said out loud, rising from the bed decisively.
"Hermione!"
"What? You said we have to board soon. I want to have some breakfast first." Hermione shrugged nonchalantly.
"You're an insufferable tease."
"And you're absolutely predictable. Now chop chop, I'm hungry."
Harry rolled his eyes, resigned. His desires would remain unfulfilled for the moment, but he resolved to get his revenge soon.
"Are you ready to face the music?"
"Honestly, Harry. It had to happen sooner or later. Might as well just face it now."
"It doesn't help that we've been holed up either here or in the Room since that night."
"It's not as if we disappeared from the continent, Harry. We've sent word to Ron and Lavender, a letter to my parents and even left a note about our whereabouts for the holidays to Dumbledore. Not to mention sending Rita my… strong suggestions about the article."
"You mean blatant blackmail and intimidation?"
"Minutiae."
"You're terrifying. It's hot," Harry added solemnly.
Hermione winked.
———
"Do you think Luna's going to be upset? That we used the Prophet instead of asking the Quibbler, I mean."
"Nah. She'll understand we needed as much coverage as possible in terms of readers. But you're very sweet to think about her feelings."
"She's our friend, it's only right."
"That she is," Hermione smiled and nodded, then stopped to face him.
The Great Hall was steps away, and they didn't know what kind of reception they would receive.
Hermione squeezed his cheeks playfully, her eyes reflecting only him.
"Lovely, lovely boy."
Harry blushed, still unused to her compliments, but Hermione felt his happiness as if it were hers.
"I would prefer handsome, maybe rugg-" she shook her head, covering his mouth with a finger.
"Lovely," she pressed a sweet, chaste kiss on his smiling lips. Then she took a deep breath.
"Ready?"
"Always." Harry interlocked their fingers and made to stride towards the enormous double doors.
———
Draco Malfoy felt a frankly concerning amount of envy.
Why did Potter have all that he could only wish for?
He was revered and reviled in turns; that was true enough. But still, Potter never lacked supporters- no, friends. Potter never lacked people who genuinely liked him for himself, people who would put their lives on the line for him in a heartbeat. True friends.
And now Granger somehow became his Soulmate?
Draco could -barely- admit to himself that he had nursed a bit of an infatuation with the Muggleborn witch during his third and fourth years at Hogwarts- that only served to exacerbate his terrible treatment of her, of course.
He'd stomped down his fanciful, rebellion-fueled illusions the moment the first article about them was aired.
Of course, it would be Granger and Scarhead.
No matter that he knew for a fact the article had been complete bullshite, as he had contributed to it. He could still see the writing on the wall, though.
Potter and Granger were meant to be together.
And now he had to observe this nauseating show first thing in the morning? He had long let go of any feelings, of course, but he still couldn't stomach the idea of Potter gaining so much power and such a fantastic witch at the same time. He was still a rival, even if not a true enemy.
He, frankly, wasn't as hostile towards him as he wanted to portray.
Everything before that year had been delusions of grandeur and ignored logical fallacies in his ideals, other than a healthy amount of competition with a more famous, very different and at times more fortunate boy than him. Schoolyard bullying, as Granger liked to call it.
What did it mean to him now? Nothing.
He had seen with his own eyes, while trying to sneak into Slughorn's stupid party, the absurd sight of their Bond being sealed.
On one side, he was surprised that they hadn't kissed even once in six years. Was Potter a monk?
On the other side, he saw the tide changing. There had been a Soulbonded couple in the Black family about a thousand years before, when Magic was wilder, and such occurrances were still rare but happened more often than presently. A couple of Soulmates every few centuries, at least.
He had read about it. The powers they got from the Bond were… concerning, considering their fairly average starting point.
He couldn't imagine what a witch like Granger or a wizard like Potter -he painfully had to admit, Potter was one hell of a wizard- could become after gaining their Bond and the Family Magic that waited for them.
They would be unstoppable.
And where was he, in his life?
A group of monsters barricaded in his home, his mother under constant threat of violence, and his father humiliated and locked up in Azkaban. A gaggle of fair-weather allies, if they could even be considered that- bar Theo and Blaise, sometimes. He had no escape.
Unless… no, Potter wouldn't. He liked to call him Saint Potter, yes, but he had never been particularly merciful to his enemies.
He had seen the results of Potter's fury more than once, and he was the Chosen One for a reason.
So he stuck to his old patterns- not expecting to be proven wrong.
"Does the Great Golden Couple allow breakfast, or should we all starve in wait for your disgusting display to end?"
He heard two identical sighs.
"Malfoy," Granger greeted, strangely calm. She shared a glance with Potter, who huffed but only inclined his head.
"What, Granger got your tongue?"
"You're testy this morning, Malfoy. Left arm hurting?" Potter replied with a false smile.
Draco paled.
"You have no idea what you're talking about, Potter," he spat.
"Oh, but I do." Potter nodded with certainty, flicking his wand.
"Told you it would be useful," he said to Granger.
"Now is not the moment to talk about the book, Harry," Granger rolled her eyes.
"Right." Potter cleared his throat. He turned to face Draco.
"No one can hear us, so I'll be honest. I know Voldemort-" Draco flinched violently. "Oh, get over it. It's just a name. I know that he sent you on some mission. You're probably already marked, but we have an inkling that you're not particularly happy about it. Your sullen mug says it all. Let me guess, he threatened your family?" Potter advanced on him."Dumbledore probably already knows, Malfoy. You'd do better not deluding yourself." Draco's face was completely drained of colour by then, and he tried to stutter a scathing response, but Potter just stopped him with a raised hand.
"I'm going to say this only once: Hermione and I will soon be able to offer you sanctuary. I don't like it, but we're family. Be it from Sirius' side or my grandmother's, we share blood- and a lot of bad history. We're not able to trust you, so there will be stipulations- nothing deadly, Malfoy. Don't make that face. I already have little family as it is, and I don't want to lose more of it- even the likes of you. We're willing to protect both you and your mother if you're willing to work with us."
"I do not appreciate you playing with my mother's life, Potter." Draco's head was spinning, and he didn't even realise he'd confirmed their suspicions.
"You can barely protect yourself without clinging to Dumbledore's robes, let alone protect my family."
"You'll see," Granger replied. She was not going to offer any more information.
"Why should I ever take up a Mudblood and a Half-Blood's offer? The glory-"
"Shove off, Malfoy. You know that's all bullshite. Don't lie to my face." Potter rolled his eyes. "By the way, say that word in front of Hermione again, and I'll rip your tongue out." Potter's green eyes gleamed with an almost unnatural brilliance, his power thrumming in the air around them.
Draco shifted his gaze, uncomfortable, only to be pinned down by Granger's golden eyes.
"Make your choice, Malfoy. You have until we return from the holidays. I trust your Occlumency is decent, or you'd have been dead on day one. Keep it that way," she added.
They didn't spare him another glance, and Draco was left reeling on his own.
He had no more appetite for breakfast.
———
'That was very mature of you,' Hermione commented.
'I just thought we could use some help from a Pureblood with dark tendencies. At least he knows the Death Egomaniacs better than us.'
Hermione nodded, pleased with his reasoning.
'We'll have to word his oath very well, though. He's cunning enough-' Hermione stopped talking after realising the scene in front of her.
When they stepped hand in hand into the Hall, the silence was absolute.
The kind of silence where a pin drop would sound like a nuke. They stood there like salt statues for a moment, waiting for someone to break the ice.
"Er- hello?" Harry said uncertainly, half-waving to the couple of thousand students staring at them.
'Oh, for the love of-' Hermione rubbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers, already exasperated.
A loud wail broke the silence, and a missile catapulted itself into Hermione's embrace, forcefully separating her from her husband and almost sending her flying back out of the Hall.
"What the fu-" Harry was interrupted by Lavender's rapid-fire, incoherent ranting.
"Oh, I'm so happy for you. So happy. My favourite couple is finally real. Soulmates! SOULMATES, HERMIONE-" Hermione tried to pat her back to make her stop crying, to no avail. She had to shift her face away from her, flinching, because Lavender's squeals truly reached decibels unknown to wizardkind.
"It's okay, Lav. Truly, I'm happy too-"
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND," Hermione's soul almost left her body in fright at the scream.
"Well, I think I do understand, since-" she tried to reason.
"YOU DON'T. Do you have any idea of how much I'm invested in your relationship? I'm the CAPTAIN of your fan club. I knew you two belonged together since first year. FIRST YEAR, HERMIONE."
"Thank you for letting me know, I guess," Harry mumbled. He was mercilessly ignored.
While Hermione managed to calm down and half-carry a sobbing Lavender, Harry took a look at the rest of the students.
The second he raised his eyes, a loud applause shook the walls.
"Way to go, Potter!"
"What a snag, Granger!"
"Oh, Helga, I knew I should've bet on the day of the party-"
"I saw them that night, Potter looked yummy-"
"Oi, Harry, next time use a Silencing Charm!" Seamus' loud voice rose over everyone else's.
The whole Gryffindor table roared with laughter.
The newly anointed Golden Couple stopped cold in front of their seats.
"What do you mean?" Hermione's voice took on a slightly hysterical quality.
"Our whole dorm could hear the two of you playing hide the Quaffle, Granger," Seamus clarified, laughing.
"I think I'm traumatised," Neville helpfully added.
"I'll never be the same again," Dean confirmed.
"No comment," a red-faced Ron grumbled.
'Why is there no one available to kill me when I need them? They're usually so eager,' Harry whined.
'I'd be available, but I need to find someone to kill me, too. I'd last at least a few hours too much without you.'
Their faces matched their ties almost perfectly by then.
'We didn't realise we shared a wall with the boys' dorms, did we?'
'Nope.'
'Godric protect me.'
"By the way," Pav said with a sly look on her face. "People in the whole Den felt the walls shaking from some very strong magic, these last few days. Care to explain?"
"W-we were practising!" Hermione squeaked.
"Yeah, practising how to make a lot of little Potters-"
The table shook with the force of people's slaps, the whole House howling with mirth.
"Mr Finnigan! Stop this nonsense at once!" Professor McGonagall's voice neared the Gryffindor table.
"More congratulations for your Bonding, Mr and Mrs Potter. I'm very pleased for you both. However, I would like to remind you of the importance of discretion." McGonagall's eyes narrowed.
"Of course, thank you, Professor," Harry nodded like a car dashboard spring doll on a bumpy ride, his entire face and neck areas burning with embarrassment.
As if he needed any more attention,he thought.
———
Ronald found himself in a foul mood.
He was happy for his best friends, yes. At the same time, however, he wouldn't lie to himself and say he didn't feel sidelined.
He knew that Harry and Hermione would become a unit after the Bonding, but he hadn't realised just how difficult it would be to remain the odd one out.
The Castle had been boiling with interest after the party. Whoever had been invited had recounted the events hundreds of times, adding more and more details -probably invented- after every repetition.
If that wasn't enough, the article on the Prophet had been aired a few days after, just the night before they were to take the train back home.
It was the first evening edition of the Prophet since the 31st of October 1981, and everyone knew what that meant. The news inside was to be considered of the utmost interest for everyone who read it- that's to say, everyone, full stop.
Harry and Hermione had become the number one sensation in the Wizarding World, and they hadn't even made any of the moves they had told him about.
He still had their note in his pocket.
He'd read and re-read it at least a hundred times, trying to rationalise -how very 'Mione that word was- his feelings and making good on his promise not to make his insecurities everyone else's problem.
It wasn't easy, but he was trying.
"Ron,
Mi and I have decided to lay low for a while, just to let things calm down before we have to face everyone. If we went out now, you know we'd be swarmed.
We'll see each other on the train, or for breakfast on the day of departure.
Good news- we've officially become Animagi. Guess our forms? I won't spoil it for you. Just know we're big.
More importantly, we've finalised our plans for the holidays.
We're going to catch the train, arrive in London and go to Grimmauld, at first. Mi has contacted her parents, and they'll expect us a few days after that- Godric help me.
We'll start researching Padfoot's situation ASAP, and in the meantime, we're going to Gringotts to claim our Lordships and all that kind of thing.
Yeah, we found out that Hermione has a Lordship too -maybe a Ladyship? I don't know- and that's even better than mine.
Can't tell you here, we don't know who might read, but we'll tell you everything when we return to Hogwarts or on the train, if we can catch a few minutes alone.
Maybe we could make time to pop in at the Burrow for Christmas? We'll see.
After everything is set- and with that I mean when we have some political weight to barter and the relevant information about the Veil- we'll have to visit the Ministry and, cross your fingers for us, have an audience with Scrimgeour, other than visiting the Legacies Department. I have to thank that guy who told me about the Potters, at least.
We also have to get permission to retrieve Pads and to clear his name, as we really don't fancy breaking into the Department of Mysteries -again.
We should take some time to register our Animagi too, but we were thinking about doing that only after we've talked with the Minister and got a feeling about what kind of monster or demon he is. His predecessor doesn't give us much hope.
We have new information about the locations of Tommy's Trinkets, and we're going to do something about that, too- I hope.
We'll keep you posted.
See ya soon,
HJP&HJP.
P.S.: Hermione looked through "Twelve Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches". She says that's mostly bullshite and felt personally offended that I had it in my possession. So, maybe bin that thing- and thank you for the dressing down I got, you absolute git.
HJP (the original).
P.P.S.: I would like to add that I didn't ask to change my surname; it was all Magic's hand. As such, I take personal offence not only for the existence of that horrible thing I refuse to call a book, but at being indirectly called a copy, too.
HJP (the smart one)."
Merlin, Harry was even starting to sound like 'Mione, with all that 'relevant information', and 'finalising plans'.
He tried to take it well. Tried to think that they were still informing him of everything, that they wanted him around, but some little voices got through his self-reassurances anyway.
Little, vicious voices that underlined how much he was not needed in the Trio. How even Hermione had found out about an impressive, probably very wealthy legacy waiting for her, as if her sheer brilliance hadn't already made her enough of a perfect match for Harry's greatness. How Harry was even more powerful than before, shaping up as a true hero. How handsome a couple they made, all messy hair and smirks, and how his presence just ruined the picture.
Ron, with his too-tall and too-lanky build, his glaring red hair and his freckles.
Ron, with his hand-me-downs and homemade sweaters.
Ron, with his quarter-more-than-average power and disinterest in schoolwork.
Ron, with his talent in Quidditch always ruined by his own insecurity.
Ron, who felt mediocre every time he thought about his friends.
Ron, who could never quite measure up to his brothers.
That's who he was, the little voices said. Just Ron, just there for the ride while the people around him went to be great, to be important and seen.
He had done a lot of soul searching during those days of almost solitude.
Ron had dug deeper into his feelings for Hermione and didn't like what he saw.
On one hand, she really was gorgeous and smart, so it was comprehensible to like her romantically. On the other hand, they had very little in common and tended to butt heads frequently.
He realised that 'not being the odd one out' had been one of his main motivations to pursue Hermione. If he could get her, then she wouldn't take Harry away from him. It was really that simple.
Harry had been the first one to choose him, truly. He chose Ron instead of Malfoy in first year. He chose to side with him during some of the worst spats he'd had with Hermione- even if Ron knew Harry was just less assured in his friendship than hers in later years, rather than genuinely believing he was in the right so many times.
Ron thought -on a deep, subconscious level- that he could get it all if Hermione was with him. He could maintain the status quo of the Trio, get the Golden Girl and continue to be Harry's number one person. He'd been chuffed when he was singled out as Harry's most precious thing during the Tournament, after all.
All of this, if united with his tender feelings for 'Mione, rendered the relationship between his best friends a bitter pill to swallow. Not to mention the clear closeness they'd always had and how they could function perfectly without him -see the night Sirius escaped on Buckbeak, for example- he had to contend with the fact that going forward, he would not be either one's most important person.
He had not been chosen, this time. By neither of the two best friends who had made his Hogwarts years worthy of being remembered, finding himself in a completely new position he needed time to adapt to.
He knew he needed to make more friends, to realise that life existed beyond the Trio, but the changes had been so sudden that he found himself lost for a while.
To think that, at one point, he had even daydreamed about matchmaking Harry and Ginny, then finally conquering the Brightest Witch Of Her Age and getting a big, happy Weasley family once and for all.
Fat chance of that happening, now.
Now, thinking about some things he had heard in the past few days, it was really difficult for him not to blow up and punch something.
At first, everything had been silent. So much so that he didn't even realise he shared a wall with the married couple's quarters. Then, one night, a single feminine moan had faintly reached his ears.
He had shot up from his bed, panicked at the thought that someone had sneaked a girl up in the dorm- especially in the case it was Dean with Ginny, no matter that they'd broken up. Just the thought gave him the heebie-jeebies.
He looked around, noticing his dormmates' open drapes and the lack of feminine presence anywhere. Then he remembered what McGonagall had announced to the couple's dormmates.
They had a special dorm, but it would still be situated inside the Tower.
He remembered almost losing it on the spot after he made the connection.
The married quarters were next to the boys' dorms? Merlin be damned, did he truly have to listen to his best friends fucking each other? Was this divine punishment?
And Hermione's moan- whoa. Harry must've been doing a good job for her to be so loud as to be heard through the stone walls.
Ron had immediately scrunched up his nose, horrified at his own thoughts.
The day after, all of the dorm's occupants were well and awake but occupied with their own thing, when Harry's groan echoed faintly. 'Fuck, Mi,' was vaguely discernible through the stone.
They all shared a look, Seamus grinning from ear to ear, and Neville's face gaining the colour of fresh blood.
Ron just felt defeated.
'Harry!' Hermione's breathy whine was heard soon after, and things escalated to mass hysteria when a pulse of magic shook the walls.
"Do you think they'd want a third?" Seamus asked, looking thoroughly intrigued.
"Finnigan! Watch it," Ron had snarled.
"I'm joking, mate. Relax. Wouldn't even go near those two hyper-magical maniacs, no matter how hot they are or how explosive the sex would be. They're too scary to approach, and very possessive too. I don't know how you've survived their sexual tension all those years without combusting, honestly," he grinned.
"They're not- it's not- argh," Ron buried his face in his pillow, the laughter around him echoing like a taunt- even if he knew they were just laughing at the situation and not at him. Still, it felt like it.
It always felt like it.
The problem was that every day, Harry and Hermione became louder. It was mostly moans and things being thrown to the ground by some releases of magic, but sometimes some words were able to pierce his ears, too.
He'd heard things like 'my perfect fucking wife,' or 'Harry, please,' one too many times to consider himself still of sound mind.
Still, they were mercifully few and far between, probably because they used the mind-link thingy to talk when their mouths were… occupied.
He hated how much time he'd lost thinking about it. He hated that Harry got Hermione all to himself, in an entirely different and intimate way. That he would never know that side of her.
He hated that Harry had started to choose Hermione, and he hated the voice inside his head that told him Harry had previously chosen him only because he'd been a safety blanket of sorts in this new, confusing world.
That he'd been chosen not because of anything about himself, but because Harry was just too young and immature to notice all of his other possibilities. To notice that Hermione was a lot of a better influence on him than Ron. That she would one day be his wife and his partner in everything, not Ron.
That Hermione would have never chosen him anyway, because why would she if she could have the Great Chosen One and the Harry who could make the room shake with her in the same person?
Who was Ron to compete with either of them?
He tried. He truly tried, every day.
But sometimes the load was heavier than one could carry. He only hoped not to drop it on his own feet before he figured out what he truly wanted and how he felt.
Ron had a lot of work in front of him.
———
Harry and Hermione had been, predictably, inundated with congratulations and questions the moment they stepped out of the Castle.
Their friends had thankfully provided much-needed shielding from the worst of it, redirecting over-eager second years and starry-eyed fourth years away and allowing the couple to ignore the most invasive questions they asked.
They felt like specimens in a jar, to be honest.
People didn't really care about their comfort, however.
Every student from first to seventh year had gone asking around about the specifics of a Soulbond and why it deserved a front-page newspaper mention. Was it because it was Potter, as usual, or because it was a truly relevant event?
After gathering information, they knew it was both.
Everybody with eyes noticed the biggest changes in the Golden Couple.
Their presence was stronger than ever, and everyone in their vicinity could feel it. The air shimmered and thrummed with energy around them, so much that they were involuntarily intimidating most of the students.
Both had always been considered an oddity of sorts, especially during their first few years, because other children felt at times suffocated by the strange amount of magic the two Gryffindors exuded and that they shouldn't have had- not that Potter and Granger noticed.
Normal wizards tended to run from power like that.
That was also why it had been so easy to believe all the lies about them over the years, especially the ones about Potter. Everyone knew that power corrupts, and if there was someone around with power to spare, it was those two. It could have been logical for them to want more of it after having a taste.
If one added their insularity and general air of secrecy, not to mention the rumours about their yearly escapades and Potter's status as the Boy-Who-Lived, it was obvious why they had always been people of interest for the rest of the Castle.
Mostly Potter during the first three years, but people soon started tracking Granger's movements, too- be it by association or because, well, people noticed if you're constantly present for two different lessons at the same time, sooner or later.
Students with keener eyes recognised the changes in their movements, too. The two walked to the carriages with nonchalance, chatting with their inner circle -The Ministry Six, as they were sometimes called- like everything was as usual, but their walk and their mannerism had gained somewhat of an edge. They exhibited a sort of regal, liquid grace, like languid cats basking in the sun, while up until then they'd always been relatively normal- at least in that sense.
Was that an effect of the Bond?
Nobody knew. Everybody wanted to know.
With speculation, covert glances and outright ogling, the legend of the Potters deepened minute by minute.
———
"We're going to the Prefects' compartment, Harry, not to challenge Bellatrix to a duel. There's no need to follow with the Cloak," Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Okay," Harry grumbled, already on edge at the thought of leaving Hermione's vicinity.
'It's just difficult to be away from you,' he gave his best puppy eyes.
'It's hard for me too, but we have to adapt. We can't always be joined at the hip, love. I would like to have a job someday, you know?'
'Mrs Potter is an independent woman, I get it. I'll stay here, waiting obediently with my embroidered handkerchief for my wife to return from her Crusade. Is that okay?'
'That's better,' Hermione flashed him a cheeky smile and pressed a peck against his downturned lips. 'See you later.'
'See you later, love,' Hermione was already out of the compartment.
Harry found himself alone for the first time in a week.
Ginny had vanished the moment they arrived on the train, not sparing a glance or a word to either Hermione nor Harry. He was sorry if her feelings had been hurt, but he couldn't think of anything to make it better. He just didn't feel that way about her, nor would he ever.
Neville and Luna had opted for a private compartment. Harry sensed that something was brewing between those two- they would make a great couple, he felt. Both of them were his friends, and Harry would be more than happy for them.
There was never too much good news with a war on the horizon.
Ron and Hermione were momentarily occupied with the Prefects' meeting, and he dearly hoped they would be quick. They had patrolled the train on the way to Hogwarts last time, so it shouldn't be their turn today.
He observed the cloudy sky brighten with the midday sun, wallowing in boredom, when an idea struck. He would do what he did better than anything else: bother his wife.
'Mi, can you hear me?'
'Of course, Harry. Our souls are linked, is not as if I could lose the signal,' he could feel her eyeroll.
'Did you need something?'
'Yeah. I need my wife to come back and sit on my face.'
He heard Hermione's sputters and had to bite his tongue not to laugh out loud.
'Love?'
'Y-yeah?'
'Why aren't you back yet? I need you.'
'What do you mean, Harry? We're on the train, it's not as if-'
'We can silence and lock the compartment. Please, Mi,' he murmured, his voice purposefully low.
Harry was having the time of his life.
He knew perfectly well how much his words and pleas turned Hermione on, and the idea of his Prim and Proper Prefect Potter sitting in her own slick while trying to focus on the meeting was too enticing to stop.
'Harry…'
'Yes, love? I've already lowered the blinds. I'm just waiting for you.'
'I'm with the other Prefects, Harry! What if they notice something?'
'That's your problem- and your own fault. Who was it that blueballed me this morning?'
'Is this revenge, then? Shall I call you Petty Potter from now on?'
'You could say that. Or maybe I just need to take care of my witch. I did say that being away from you was hard, didn't I?'
'You little-' Hermione hissed.
'I'm going to-'
"Harry? Are you in there?" Ginny Weasley's voice overlapped with her knocking.
'Ginny's come to corner me,' Harry sighed. His ready hard-on wilted like a snowman in July.
'I'm trying hard not to laugh at you, but if this isn't karma…' Hermione's snicker grated on his already disturbed nerves.
'Very funny,' Harry sulked.
'Oh, come on. We can have all of the fun we want in Grimmauld.'
'Yeah, with Kreacher peeking at the door. The true pinnacle of romance.'
'I don't think he'd be interested in our activities, Harry,' Hermione almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of the situation.
'You never know. Maybe he likes to watch.'
'I would like to concentrate on the meeting, Harry James, and you still have to let your ex-future-wife lecture you on how much better she would've been for you than me. We'll talk about potentially voyeuristic house elves later.'
'I'm truly glad no one can hear these conversations.'
'Copy that. Now let me return to the land of the living- over.'
'Is this a walkie-talkie, now? Over.'
'Shut up, will you?'
'Roger.'
"Harry? Can I come in?" Ginny's voice sounded more and more annoyed.
"Sure, come in," Harry unlocked the door with a flick of his wand. "Sorry, I dozed off."
The lie didn't feel too unwarranted, as he couldn't exactly admit he was wirelessly flirting with his wife. That would be a step too far, he reckoned.
"Need something?" He asked, angling for a way out of this. Ginny could be persistent if she wanted to.
"Not exactly. I wanted to have a talk, if that's okay," the redhead looked more nervous than he'd ever seen her.
"'Course, is this about the Team? I thought it would be okay to start training again the week after the hols-"
"No, no. It's not-" Ginny heaved a sigh.
"Has something happened? Do you need help? I can ask Mi-"
"No! Don't. Don't tell Hermione, please. I wanted to talk about something else."
"I'm not sure I want to know then, Gin. Especially if you ask me not to tell my wife," he stressed the last two words.
Ginny's eyes shuttered for a moment.
"Do you really have to do this?" Ginny's voice was cold.
"Do what?"
"Use Hermione as a shield every time I try to talk to you," Ginny clarified.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Ginny." Harry's tone hardened.
It was a reminder not to go overboard, but Ginny ignored it.
"I mean that every time I try to speak with you about something that's not Quidditch or schoolwork, you give me a pat on the head and name Hermione, then you run. I thought we were friends, Harry. And this summer… I admit I thought we could be more than that, at some point." Ginny finished quietly.
Harry thought for a moment before responding. He truly didn't want to hurt her, but some boundaries were to be made clear, or she would continue to push them, no matter the Bond. He realised that maybe what Ginny wanted was the feeling of being liked, rather than a true relationship- that would explain her having boyfriends while still being evidently hung up on him.
It was just a conjecture, but it would render some of her behaviours clearer.
"Ginny," he sighed. "Of course, we're friends. But before being your friend, I'm Hermione's best friend- and her husband. I have priorities, and this has to be clear to you and everyone else. As for this summer, I admit I appreciated the way you seemed to have let go of your embarrassment around me, the fact that you're a pretty girl and a good Quidditch player. That's it, frankly. I never mentioned anything about a potential relationship then, let alone now. What I truly don't understand is why you strung one of my friends along while still being interested in me, and why you can't let this go even after knowing that I have a Bonded Soulmate. You know perfectly well that there will never be anything more than platonic between us. So, the real question is, what are you doing here?"
Ginny leaned back in surprise at his direct speech, then combed her hair with her fingers in frustration.
"I don't know, maybe I needed some closure. It's just… I've liked you since before I even went to Hogwarts, and when I finally made you notice me…"
"Wait," Harry stopped her. "What do you mean, before you even went to Hogwarts? You didn't know me then, Gin."
"Of course, I knew you, Harry. I grew up with stories about you-"
"And what exactly," Harry bit out, now annoyed. "Made you think that the boy in the stories was the same person as me?"
"I don't understand."
"I think you do. Merlin, Gin. The thing I like the least in this godforsaken place is my fame. How could you think that all that made-up bullshit was a reflection of who I am?"
"Now I know it's not, but you saved me from the Basilisk, and you're so powerful, you're a hero-"
"I'm not, Ginny. I'm not the Boy-Who-Lived. I'm Harry. You liked a fictional character, not me."
"Maybe in the beginning, but then I met you in person, Harry. And I liked you even more," she admitted candidly, her cheeks blushing prettily.
"Really? Because I don't remember sharing more than ten words with you before fourth year, if not later."
"Girls don't need to talk to a boy to like him, Harry," Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Hermione was my best friend for six years before we even kissed, Ginny. I think talking made some difference there."
"Well, I'm not Hermione!"
"And that's exactly the problem!" Harry snapped.
"What?" Ginny whispered.
"You're not Hermione. Is that what you wanted me to say? I named her every time because I knew you had some lingering feelings, and I was trying not to give you false hopes, to let you down gently by making clear where my intentions lay. It will always be Hermione, and you have to make peace with that, because coming between a Soulbond is not something you want to do. Frankly, even without the Bond, I would still have pursued her sooner or later, and you know that. Just- just try to get over it, okay? Because I know that both Mi and I like having you as a friend. Let's try not to overcomplicate things."
Maybe he'd been too blunt, but he felt like a weight had lifted from his chest. It needed to be said.
"Then it's better if I go back to my friends. Wouldn't want to overcomplicate anything." Ginny stormed off, her anger palpable.
'Well, that was something,' Hermione said, entering the compartment while releasing her disillusionment charm. She locked the door behind her with a twitch of her wand.
'How much did you hear?' Harry sighed, happily gathering his Soulmate in his arms.
'Mh, from "I'm not the Boy-Who-Lived" to your confession of undying love for me. Very well done, I would say,' she kissed his temple, taking her place on his lap.
'Next up, Mrs Weasley,' Harry commented.
'Oh God,' Hermione hid her face in his neck.
'Is there a particular reason why the Weasleys seem to think they have a say in my life?' She asked, already angered by Ginny's lack of boundaries.
'They've always been good to me,' Harry sighed.
He was doing that a lot lately.
'Yes, good to you. But I didn't forget Molly's little digs after Rita's article last time. Nor was I blind to her treatment of Fleur. And don't let me start on every time she's tried to police both me and my wardrobe over the years. It's maddening. Hasn't she got enough children of her own to micromanage?'
'That was kind of bad on her part, wasn't it?' Harry kissed the top of her head.
'I'd say so,' Hermione grumbled. 'And that's not even everything. To be honest, Harry, I really don't like her sometimes.'
'Truly?' Harry asked, somewhat surprised.
'Yes. She's always been biased against me, or against any witches who're not her daughter or a copy of herself, really. She has meddled far too much in things that did not concern her, too. I mean, how could she just assume that she'd have the last word about you when your Godfather and legal guardian was present? And while making use of his hospitality, nonetheless. The way she tried to steer the twins' career, the way she encouraged Ginny's fixation with you, the way she treated my parents as some sort of odd species… It's a lot if you pile it up.'
'I never thought about it in those terms, I guess.' Harry admitted.
'I know she's important to you, Harry, and I will not interfere in your relationship. But if she tries to meddle in my marriage, I swear to Godric I'm going to hex her mouth shut.'
'Always so violent,' Harry snickered. 'Don't worry, I won't let her bully you,' he reassured.
'Bully,' Hermione scoffed. 'The day I let myself be bullied by the likes of Molly Weasley is the day you have to lock me up in the Janus Thickey Ward for good.'
'Such a proud witch,' Harry angled her smiling lips toward his and captured them in a slow, languid kiss.
'Now, let us rehearse how to talk without raising your wand, shall we?'
'I make no promises.'
'Brilliant.'
———
Ronald decided not to follow Hermione to Harry's compartment.
It was all still a bit awkward for him. He made it clear that he just wanted to catch up with Dean and Seamus, but doubted if Hermione truly believed him.
A few minutes later, a red-haired shadow passed in front of him in a flash. It was Ginny, he reckoned, and she came from their compartment's direction.
Little sis had realised the game was over, didn't she? Well, better now than later.
He was not happy that Harry had made his sister sad, but he knew his best friend and would never believe he'd hurt Gin on purpose. Some things needed to be said, he supposed.
He was startled from his thoughts by a tap on his shoulder.
"Lavender?" Ron asked, confused. "Er- how can I help you?"
"I need to talk to you. It's urgent." Lavender was unusually solemn.
"'Course, let us," he gestured vaguely in an empty compartment's direction.
"So," he took a seat in front of the blonde. "What do you need?"
"I'm organising Harmony's wedding," she said in all seriousness. "Harry and Hermione, I mean," she clarified.
"What?" Ron sputtered.
"You heard me. Not a real-real wedding, of course." Lav rolled her eyes at herself. "More like a party to celebrate the event of the millennium. I'd say it's warranted." She shrugged.
"And I…?" Ron questioned.
"And you'll be instrumental. You're their best friend and know them better than any of us. You'll have to tell me about their favourite food, drinks, music, colours…" Lav ranted away, and Ron found himself noticing just how bouncy her fair, big curls were.
"And," she continued. "I'll need your memories."
"My what?" Ron asked, shocked.
"Your memories. I've seen in her mum's Muggle magazines that a sequence of memories and scenes about the couple, which they call a video, is all the rage to watch at weddings. You know, a little something to reminisce about their history. I wanted to do something like that with a Pensieve, and we already know that the Room of Requirements has one if needed. Now I'm going around getting people's memories of Harry and Hermione. Of course, you'll be one of my main sources." Lav nodded to herself.
"That's- nice, I suppose, but how would that work? I mean, you'd have to touch the memory to watch it, and with a lot of people…" Ron tried to explain his concerns.
"Don't worry about that," Lav shook her head. "Hermione already resolved it with a bit of runework- that's how we watched Grease with the other girls, a few weeks back. That girl is a genius." she smiled happily.
"You watched grease? For what reason, exactly?" Ron asked, more confused than ever.
"No matter. Just give me as many memories as you can, and I'll sift through them in my family's Pensieve during Christmas. Yes, we have one, don't be so surprised- it's an heirloom. Anyway, I think I might have more questions, so could you give me your owl address? I want the party to be as close to perfect as possible."
Ron could see that Lavender was being sincere. Had her relationship with Hermione really developed so much in such a short time?
Lavender really was a good friend, he thought to himself. Maybe he should take a page from her book.
"Give me a quill."
———
The rest of the train ride passed without much fanfare.
Harry and Hermione decided to ward the compartment off completely, not trusting its security. For the same reason, they decided to fill Ron in on everything after the holidays.
They knew too much and didn't have an excuse for it, yet. He could never know of older Hermione's letter, and another 'help from above' scenario would be too suspicious.
Before they knew it, they were in King's Cross.
The couple exited the train with as much discretion as they could manage- that's to say, none at all. Before they could set a foot out of the station, they were intercepted by the whole Weasley brood.
"Harry, dear!" Molly's dulcet tone was unmistakable.
"Mrs Weasley," Harry greeted somewhat awkwardly, already being squeezed in the mother's arms.
"How are you? Have you eaten enough while travelling?" Her fussing was as heartwarming as it was suffocating, in Harry's mind.
"Yes, Mrs Weasley," he dutifully answered.
"Hermione, dear," Molly nodded to the younger witch.
"Mrs Weasley," Hermione gave a single nod, perfectly polite.
A win is a win, Harry thought.
"Do not linger, dear. It's dangerous out here, and I've already prepared-"
"Mrs Weasley," Harry started. "We're not going to the Burrow."
The older witch stopped in her tracks.
"And whyever not?" She asked, already eyeing Hermione suspiciously. The young witch had to physically force herself not to roll her eyes.
"I've read the article, Harry, but-"
"Everything is true," Hermione bluntly admitted. Molly's face lost all colour.
"Everything?"
"Yes," Harry confirmed.
"So, you two…?"
"We're of age, and we're married. Not to mention that we have lots of things to do in London during the holidays, Mrs Weasley. Maybe we could pop by the Burrow after Christmas? My parents expect us for the festivity, I'm sure you understand." Hermione's smile was as forced as Ron's homework schedule.
"Now, don't be too hasty, dear-"
"I'm not being hasty, Mrs Weasley. We truly have a lot to accomplish in a few days, and Harry needs to meet his in-laws sooner or later. Don't you, Harry?"
"Of course," Harry stood by his wife, an arm around her waist and the other in his pocket. "The Grangers invited us a few days ago. I'm sure you can imagine, Mrs Weasley, we have a lot to explain to them. Ending up magically married to your best friend at sixteen is not something a Muggle would understand without proper context. Also, I'd like to visit Hermione's childhood home and shop a bit in Muggle London," he added as naturally as possible.
"Is that the whole lot of things you have to do in London?" Mrs Weasley looked displeased and sceptical.
"No, Mrs Weasley. We truly have important business on our program. You'll understand if we can't tell you, won't you? It's on a need-to-know basis, for now." Hermione's emphatic face almost made Harry burst out laughing.
'That's for making me clean up Grimmauld instead of doing anything productive all last summer,' Hermione stated.
Molly looked ready to rupture a coronary.
"And where will you be staying, if that's not on a need-to-know basis?"
"Headquarters, of course," Harry confirmed the witch's thoughts.
"Harry, dear, that house is not livable-"
"We sent our house elf days ago, Mrs Weasley. The house should look brand new by now," Hermione's cheer was undeniable.
"You have a house elf?"
"He's a friend and needed employment," Harry shrugged.
"That's all right and good, dears, but the two of you living alone would not be proper. If you stayed-"
"Mrs Weasley," Harry's tone was firm. "Hermione and I are married -there's nothing wrong with being alone. Moreover, we got settled into the married quarters at Hogwarts days ago. It's not a problem for us."
"But-"
"Mrs Weasley," Hermione's tone was harder. "We are of age and completely able to defend ourselves. Do not worry, we will pop at the Burrow for sure, if only to exchange gifts with everyone."
"Oh, look at the time," Harry said disingenuously.
"Godric, we're late. I'm sorry, Mrs Weasley, but we have to go. See you soon!"
"And Merry Christmas!" Harry added, a foot already trespassing the boundary with the Muggle side of King's Cross.
They had overwhelmed the Weasley matriarch with the double talk, but they knew it wouldn't last forever. She would blow up, sooner or later.
Tonks was waiting for them on the other side- that was the one concession they made for the Headmaster. Tonks would be the one to pick them up from and take them to the train.
As for the rest of the time, they were going to move too much to bother with chaperones.
"Wotcher, Harry! Hermione!" Tonks greeted them, moving through the crowd to find an alley good enough to apparate from.
"Hiya, Tonks. Everything good? Tell me, would you be able to book us an appointment to take the Apparition exam?"
———
The couple -plus Tonks- tripped in front of Grimmauld Place in a flurry of robes.
"That was horrible." Hermione's face looked green.
"That's side-along," Harry said sagely. "Already tried with Dumbledore," he explained at her inquiring look.
"Right," Hermione nodded.
"So, the paper-" Tonks fished for information, curiosity written in her eyes.
"Everything is true," Hermione admitted for the second time in half an hour.
"Helga's knickers, guys, that's out of whack. You're, like, legends now. Will you name your future twins Merlin and Morgana?"
"Maybe we should graduate first, don't you think?"
"We'll see about that," Tonks said, a smirk lifting her lips. "I actually have an assignment starting in fifteen minutes. See ya around!"
"Goodbye, Tonks! Thanks for everything," Hermione thanked the Metamorphomagus. "Yeah, thanks," Harry added just as sincerely.
"You're welcome. Merry Christmas!" Tonks disapparated, with the heavy evening fog as cover.
"Shall we, my Lady?" Harry offered his arm.
"Why of course, my gallant Sir."
———
"Is this truly Grimmauld Place?" Harry's eyes almost popped from their sockets.
"Dobby has done a wonderful job," Hermione added.
The dreary house had been, at least in the common areas and some of the main rooms, completely revamped. An enormous Christmas tree, decorated in shades of red and gold, adorned the opulent foyer- which had been stripped of its yellowing wallpaper and polished to a shine.
"Dobby!" Harry called out.
"Friend Harry Potter Sir called Dobby?"
"Harry is enough, Dobby, really-"
"Does Friend Harry Potter Sir need somethings from Dobby?"
"I just wanted to thank you. You've done a fantastic job, I swear it doesn't even look like the same house as before. You're amazing," Harry complimented.
"Dobby is proud to work for Friend Harry Potter Sir!" Dobby insisted, his enormous nose up in the air.
"Everything's brilliant, Dobby. But maybe you could take a break now? We can manage dinner-"
"Friend Hermy Potter Ma'am should rest after long travel. Dobby will see to dinner like a proper elf."
'That didn't work.' Hermione admitted.
'Yeah, it didn't. Shall we put down the luggage in our room?'
Dobby turned around, gave them a nonplussed look and snapped his fingers to make their trunks disappear.
"That's efficient. Thank you, Dobby." Harry said.
"Wait," Hermione asked suspiciously. "How did you know what Harry wanted to do, Dobby?"
"Me bes- bes guessing!" Dobby looked mightily uncomfortable.
"Dobby," Harry's voice was firmer.
The little elf crumbled on himself, crying hysterically.
"Dobby!" Hermione was alarmed. "Talk to us. What happened?"
"Dobby bes-" he sniffed loudly. "Dobby bes a bad elf! Dobby bes using Harry Potter Sir's magic without permission," he admitted, then wailed even louder.
"What do you mean, Dobby?" Harry was worried about his little friend.
"Dobby bes not bonded, Harry Potter Sir. Dobby bes able to survive alone, but without Hogwartsy' wild magic, Dobby bes weak. So Dobby has half-bonded to Harry Potter Sir!" Dobby's voice took a screeching quality around the last words.
"What can we do about that, Dobby?"
"Yous need to bes bonded to Dobby, Friend Harry Potter Sir, but Harry Potter's wify does not want to bond Dobby!" his tears knew no end, in that moment.
"No, no, Dobby. We can bond. I swear, I won't interfere. Just- let us pay you anyway, yeah?"
"Dobby bes proud to bes a Potter elf!" The elf's face was split in two by his wide smile.
"Let us proceed, then," Harry was resigned.
'I don't know why, but I feel played.'
———
'Did I hear correctly, or am I hallucinating? You got turned on every time I taught the DA?' Harry's laughter laced his words.
'Not every time, you brute. And is it truly that surprising for me to have a competence kink? If only you saw the thoughts I had about Remus, sometimes in third year.'
'That's my father's friend, Hermione!'
'Two words: Madam Rosmerta.'
'I think I'll shut up.'
'That would be for the best, thank you.'
Harry was leaning on the bed's headboard, his freshly washed hair a disaster and his underwear being the only thing he wore. He looked edible, in Hermione's modest opinion.
She was lying on her side, her chocolate curls braided away from her face and her nightgown -one of her skimpiest, if she was being honest- riding up on her hip. Hermione's head lay on top of Harry's abs, her mouth leaving a kiss or a nip on the taut skin every few minutes.
'Are you doing this on purpose?' Harry asked, a hand playing with her long braid.
'What?' Hermione raised her eyes to meet his, trying to look as innocent as she could while kissing his lean muscles.
'Stop the naive act, Mi. I can feel your wet pussy from here,' he smirked. Hermione sputtered, unprepared for his words, and slapped his torso lightly.
'Come here,' Harry chuckled.
'Nope,' she turned away from him in a fit of pique.
'Come on, Mi. I've waited and waited and waited all day-'
'You're such a drama queen.'
'Learnt from the best.'
'Trust me, you've always been dramatic. Remember the whole 'I'm not as good as you' thing in first year?'Hermione snickered, letting herself be enveloped in her husband's surprisingly strong arms.
God bless Quidditch and all of that.
'Of course I remember. 'Oh, Harry, just be careful!' He staged an embarrassingly accurate rendition of Hermione's first-year voice. 'Not dramatic at all.'
'Well, all Gryffindors have some level of drama inside them, I would say,' Hermione compromised.
'And who are we, if not lions?' Harry finished.
'Precisely.'
One of his hands took hold of her braid, while the other went to delicately explore her side.
'I'm thinking about the Tournament,' Harry said.
'Mh? What about it?'
'You said something along the lines of 'of course I knew you didn't put your name in the Goblet', because you noticed my reaction when my name came up.'
'Yeah. You were completely blindsided. It was obvious.'
'Obvious to you, love. I should've snogged you right there against a tree.'
'Why didn't you?'
'Well, the Horcrux. And 'cause girls are terrifiyng,' she chuckled.
'Maybe I would've let you,' Hermione turned on her other side to lay her leg on top of his hip.
'Yeah?' Harry stroked her bare thigh, wrapping her braid around his other fist like a leash.
'Yeah,' Hermione breathed against his lips.
'What else would you have let me do?'
'Mh, I don't know. Give me options,' she lost most of her rationality in his kiss.
'Would you have allowed me to touch you like this?' Harry caressed the curves of her bum, drew a line with his fingers on her side and grabbed her waist, letting her settle down half on top of him.
Hermione nodded.
'Would you have let me fuck your wet knickers like that first night in our rooms?'
'If we had somewhere to do it, then yes,' Hermione tried to answer with as much coherence as possible, even while she felt him all around her.
She felt Harry on top of her and underneath, his hands all over her body, his mouth on hers, his feelings in her heart, and his magic intertwined with hers, flowing. He was everywhere, and she loved it. Loved him.
Harry trailed his hand upwards from her thigh, brushing the inside of it until he found her centre.
'No knickers?' he asked, his cock on the verge of erupting from the idea alone.
'You came into our bed all rosy from the shower, smelling like heaven and with a sweet, bare cunt ready to use, love?'
'Yes,' Hermione whispered.
'Did you want me to play with it then, love?'
'Mhmh,' she hummed, involuntarily circling her hips to grind her clit on the heel of his hand.
'How do you want me to make you come tonight, love? Want my fingers?' his middle finger found her opening and fucked her shallowly.
'Don't tease me,' Hermione whined, trying to get his finger to reach deeper.
'Would you like my mouth instead, love?'
'What do you mean?'
'That I want to eat your cunt, wife.'
'Are you sure? What if you don't like it?'
'The second I tasted your cum for the first time, I came so hard I saw stars. Is that reassuring enough?'
'Then yes. Please.'
'Please what, Mi?'
'Please eat me out, Harry.'
'I do love it when you beg.'
Harry lowered himself to the foot of the bed, looking up into her wide eyes.
Hermione looked divine, in his opinion. Her legs were open in front of him, and he got his first direct, close look at her cunt.
He groaned aloud.
Her little slit was puffy and pink, already opened up for him by his soaked middle finger.
Harry decided to try small, delicate licks first. He circled her clit, suckled on it and teased it delicately with his teeth. He was rewarded with a low-pitched moan and the sensation of being suffocated by his wife's thighs.
Was this paradise?
Harry increased his efforts tenfold the second he felt Hermione's hands tunnel into his hair and grip its roots. Godric only knew how much he adored having her play with his black locks.
He fucked her little hole with his tongue, flicking her button with his thumb at the same time, then he switched. He used two of his fingers as a replacement while his mouth went to suck her clit.
Hermione keened loudly, her juices soaking his hand and face. That only spurred Harry on.
He noticed that his lower body had a mind of its own, grinding and fucking onto the mattress to find some relief. Her taste was his kryptonite, it seemed, as he was almost ready to cum.
He decided to go all out, concentrating hard for a second.
"Such a sweet little cunt," he hissed on her most sensitive point.
Hermione let out a sob, so overstimulated that her lower half bowed upwards, practically forcing herself onto Harry's mouth.
"Tight, too. Have to stretch it out for my cock if I don't want my precious girl to hurt. Come, love. Come on your husband's face."
Hermione gasped a silent moan, her walls contracting on Harry's fingers while he tried to catch as much of her release as possible in his mouth. The second she let herself go, Harry came in his boxers like a river. He was dripping in both of their fluids, and had never felt more self-satisfied in his life.
With a wave of his wand, everything returned to normal. He, as was his habit after a few days, immediately cuddled Hermione to his chest.
'Was that Parseltongue?' Hermione asked incredulously, still panting.
'Yeah,' Harry laughed, feeling sillier than ever.
'Maybe you could tell Tom how to use his gift for good,'Hermione proposed.
They looked at each other for a moment before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.
'Can you imagine?' Harry wiped away the tears of mirth from his eyes. 'Watcher, Tommy, remember our little snake-talking thing? Yeah, leave Basilisks alone. Wives are the new venture. Find yourself a girlfriend and stop bothering that poor snake.'
'That's terrible,' Hermione convulsed with a rare belly laugh, half on top of him.
"Mudbloods and Half-Breeds defiling Kreacher's Mistress' home with their filthy couplings-"
'And there he is,' Harry nodded to the door.
'Told you he would listen in.'
Hermione buried her face in his chest with a groan.
They had so much work to do.