Part two: Making it up.
Hermione walked down the stairs, to the main floor. Here, Harry had rebuilt the house on an open plan. Almost without exception, every part of this floor could be seen from every other. It made for a rather intimate setting, regardless where one was. The kitchen and dining areas were joined across a granite topped bar that seated four. Both could be seen from the lounge through an arch wide enough to encompass parts of both rooms. The deeply carpeted lounge itself was sunken about thirty centimeters, and was about five or so, metres by seven, accessible by steps on three sides, and surrounded by a one and a half metre, polished maple walkway all the way around it. A wall of glass panels, framed by red cedar allowed access to the back porch, which faced the west, and usually provided a glorious sunset almost every evening.
“Harry?” Hermione walked into Harry’s kitchen. Winky was standing by just as she’d promised. Harry was busily…too busily…tending something in a pan.
She stepped across the kitchen, and touched his arm lightly. He immediately stiffened. It wasn’t rejection, really, but Hermione was rather put out anyway.
“Harry, we need to talk.” She took his arm in hers, and drew him from the stove. Harry came along, but more like a puppet than a man. Hermione was worried. In all the years she’d known him, he’d never been this tractable before. Harry normally resisted anything that he didn’t like. It was what had gotten him through his battle with Voldemort, and unfortunately what had kept him from finding a job. He had enough money to last his lifetime, and several dozen more, but that wasn’t the point. Harry wasn’t the type to go meekly into anything. Most employers hated that attitude, especially as it was usually accompanied by his refusal to endorse their particular cause. It had gotten him a nasty reputation as being ‘unreasonable’.
Hermione understood where the rebellion had come from, and why. She cursed the names ‘Dursley’ and ‘Dumbledore’ with all her heart. But this compliance was troublesome, and yet she knew why.
Now, however, he seemed like a little scare boy, afraid he done something wrong, she had to clear the air.
“Harry, please sit with me. I have to talk with you.” Hermione pleaded, dragging him toward the lounge.
“But the…” Harry protested, gesturing helplessly toward the scallops he’d been sautéing in wine.
“Winky will handle it. Come with me. Please?”
Harry nodded his head and surrendered the spatula to Winky, who accepted it happily. The two of them left the kitchen and entered the sunken lounge. They sat on the overstuffed couch, side by side.
“Harry” Hermione began. “I discovered something awful, today.”
The tone of her voice, alerted Harry to a real problem. He turned his head sharply and took her hands in his. Inwardly Hermione smiled, seeing his instinctive need to protect others, especially Her she knew.
“What’s wrong, Hermione? Is there anything I can do?”
“Actually, yes. Ron came home today, Harry. He’d been drinking. He kissed me hard, pulled my clothing off, and threw me on the bed, where he proceeded to shag me rotten.”
His body dropped “Hermione, this is something I really don’t want to hear about.” The pain in Harry’s voice was plain. Hermione hated herself for thrusting this into his face so abruptly, but she knew he’d have to know. He made a move to get up. Only her clutching his hands prevented it. Feeling how tight she held him, he looked at her questioningly. She could tell he was hurting, but knew if she tried to comfort him, the way he lower his head, he’d only pull away again. She had to finish what she started, although it was hurting both of them.
“Harry, I’m not saying this to hurt you. Really, I’m not. It’s all a part of this. Look at me”
Harry hesitated a moment, then: “All right, then.” He still sounded doubtful, slowly looked her in the eyes, She choked, She could see the pain in his eyes, he gestured her to continue.
“Harry, afterwards, when he was falling asleep, he had a smile on his face…a rather nasty smile, actually. I asked him why. He was too sleepy and likely too drunk to censor what he was saying. Well to make a long story short… Harry, in sixth year, Ron threw your note to me into the fire. He told me that you were gay, and that’s why you weren’t interested in me!”
“He told you I was gay? Ron started that rumor!?!” His shoulders jerked in angry, but dropped again and dropped his eyes. Damn this is hurting him.
“Yes.” She whispered. “Harry, that’s the only reason I went with him and not you. I have always loved you, you saved my life, after all, but I felt if you had no feelings for me, other than as a best friend, I would be that best friend. I wouldn’t intrude on your romantic life. I didn’t know at the time you were really interested in me. Ron lied to me”
“Hermione, I wasn’t just ‘interested’ in you. I’m in love with you. I have been almost from the first. I just couldn’t…” Harry quietly managed to say
“Couldn’t what, Harry.” She asked quietly, knowing the answer before he spoke it. “Tell me you loved me, or take me from Ron?”
“Either. Hermione, realizing if I were to declare my love for you before I learned to occlude my mind, ol’ Voldyface would have it out of me in a minute. He’d take you and he’d torture you, hurt you, possibility to death, just to get me to lie down and die. And I would have, I would rather die than let anything happen to you. As for the other, Ron’s one of my two best mates. He’s been my mate since before we got to know you. He was the very first friend my own age I ever had. I couldn’t just ruin his happiness because I was jealous.”
“Why not, Harry. That’s exactly what he did!”
“I know. I know that now, but, Hermione, I didn’t know that until now. Don’t you see?”
“Yes, you unselfish, over-giving idiot!” She growled. “I understand entirely too well. You seem to feel everyone in the world has the right to be loved… except you!”
In one swift movement, Hermione had straddled Harry’s lap and had his head trapped in her hands, and her mouth glued to his. Harry struggled until her tongue entered his mouth. Then, feeling the kiss for the first time. Tasting Hermione, for the first time, massaging her tongue with his, for the first time. All thoughts of resistance evaporated from his head. Harry wrapped his arms around her body and returned the kiss, as he wanted to give her for so long!
Now it was Hermione’s chance to be shocked. She’d never thought Harry could kiss this well. It was nothing like with Ron. Ron was an excellent kisser, and all, but there was always something missing. Now, it felt…right! It felt like this was the something she’d been without…and for far too long! She could feel his soul, his love. Below, she also felt another response. She sighed happily into his mouth knowing he really did have feelings for her.
Harry broke the kiss. Hermione moaned in loss, until he whispered: “Dobby’s coming.”
Hermione slipped off his lap, leaving an unfortunate indicator of their interrupted passion. Harry adjusted himself as discretely as possible, and they faced each other, once more.
“This isn’t over, Harry, my love, later, I am going to show you exactly how deserving of love you really are.” she thought to herself ‘eat you’re going to need your strength’.
Dobby entered and announced “dinner“. Harry stood, and held out his hand. Hermione took it, and rose as well. Together, they entered the dining room.
Dinner was a quiet and peaceful time. What Harry had begun, Winky had finished. They ate scallops in a buttery wine sauce, a tossed pasta and fruit salad in a tart vinaigrette, glazed baby carrots with tarragon, fresh baked bread and a nice light ale. Hermione made sure to keep the topics of discussion light.
When they’d finished, Harry and Hermione adjourned to the lounge. Winky brought coffee and biscuits then vanished. Hermione could see the elves polishing the kitchen, thoroughly. Although she could see Dobby speaking to his mate, she couldn’t hear anything, and assumed the elves had cast a silencing charm over the doorway.
Harry poured their coffees, fixing each cup the way they took it. Hermione’s had milk and a bit of honey. Harry took his black, with, as Hermione always said, far too much sugar.
Music played from concealed speakers. This piece was a minor piano concerto by Tchaikovsky. Harry’s taste in music ran a rather eclectic gamut. He had ABBA, AC/DC, and Blue Oyster Cult, as well as Weird Al and Cheech & Chong . Beethoven, Brahms, Mozart and Prokofiev stood on the shelf beside The Beatles, Aerosmith, Pink Floyd, and ELO. Rachmaninoff and Shostakovich shared the shelf with Louis Armstrong and The Who. A Tina Turner album leaned up against a rare collection of Igor Stravinsky
They sipped their coffees in comfortable silence, content to just let the soothing music wash through their souls.
Hermione set her cup on the coffee table. She took his and said: “That was a lovely dinner, Harry. And now, I owe you a major apology.” She set his cup beside hers, and again, climbed onto his lap. She tugged her sensible woolen skirt up to free her legs.
Harry was pleasantly surprised to see that the knickers Hermione wore that evening, were rather translucent, showing her nest of light brown curls quite well. What got him, though, were the words written across the front of the panty. They read: “If you are reading this, this is your lucky day!” He recognized the silly gift he’d given to her for her and Ron’s anticipated wedding night.
This time, she just held his head gently. “Harry. I’m sorry. I never knew you felt this way about me. If I had, I promise, Ron would never have stood a chance.”
“Hermione.” Harry protested quietly. “You don’t owe me an apology. Ron told me you wanted him. I decided then, that if you only wanted me as a friend, I would be the best friend I could be. I never meant to…”
“I know, Harry. Believe it or not, Ron put it best. He said: “He’s too bloody noble!” Tonight, I don’t want you to be noble. Just my Love”
As she was speaking, Hermione had been slowly rocking her hips, pressing down rather firmly onto Harry’s increasingly blood filled organ. Harry groaned at the wonderful stimulation she was giving. He gripped her hips tightly in order to stop the torment. Hermione was having none of it, however. She grabbed his hands and firmly pressed them to her breasts. From the feel, he knew she wore nothing under the silk blouse. Her harden nipples felt fantastic
Wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck, she pressed her lips to his, invading his mouth and gently caressing his tongue. Together, they fought a peaceful battle for the available space.
Breaking the kiss, only when the desperate need for oxygen required it, Hermione whispered: “Hang on, tight!” and apparated them both to Harry’s room, sans her clothing! As Hermione had never seen Harry nude, she had to do it the old fashioned way. Still, his stripping was done with extreme dispatch. She literally tore his shirt open, scattering buttons every which way, and swiftly had his belt undone and his trousers around his ankles. She yanked down his briefs and pushed him forcibly backwards onto the bed. Harry, finally getting a clue, kicked off his shoes and wriggled out of his pants.
Before Harry knew what was what, Hermione had straddled him again, grasped his now, rock-hard erection and impaled herself.
Harry growled his pleasure as the tight, hot and wet silken glove encased him fully.
For Hermione’s part, she cried out, eyes wide, as she discovered the ‘difference’ between Ron and Harry. Harry was quite a bit thicker and somewhat longer as well. ‘I guess it’s good to be short!’ She thought happily, squealing softly, as she rose and fell again, stretching tissues within her that Ron had never reached.
Harry wasn’t a virgin by any means. He’d had several women; muggles all, before he’d realized that they’d all left him cold. The sex was OK, but there was always something missing. Something vital.
Actually, it was a woman named Bethany Somethingorother, who clued him in.
Harry clearly recalled the post-coital conversation with the short, curly brown-haired teacher.
“What’s she like?” She had asked.
“Hmmm?” Harry replied, rather drifting. “Whazzat?”
“What’s this woman like? She obviously means a great deal to you, Jim, or you wouldn’t be trying so hard to replace her. Did she die in your war?” Bethany traced one of the many scars that crossed Harry’s chest.
“No. She’s alive.”
“What’s her name?”
“Hermione.”
“Pretty.”
“Yes, she is.”
“You love her.” It was not a question.
“Yes.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because, she’s with someone.”
“Someone you know?”
“Yea, my best mate.” Bethany sat up and eyed him oddly.
“Does she love you?”
“I used to think so. But things changed a few years ago.”
“What changed?”
“I wish I knew. I was going to ask her to be my girlfriend. I wanted to surprise her, so I asked Ron to give her a note asking her to meet me in the Room of Requi…well, a room in our school. She never showed. The next day, things changed between us. It all got…strange. Ron told me she had chosen him. Somehow, I must have scared her off.”
Bethany had climbed off the bed and dressed. Now she sat down beside him. “I can offer you one piece of advise. Find her. Ask her if she loves you.”
“I can’t. Ron loves Hermione, Hermione loves Ron. It wouldn’t be right.”
Bethany drew her knee to her chest. “Do they really love each other? What were they like before they began dating?”
“They rowed all the time. They still do, for that matter. It quite drives us all mad! Sometimes I think that they’re only happy when they’re fighting.”
“Oh, yeah! That sounds like true love to me!” She said sarcastically. “Listen, Harry…” She smiled as his eyes widened. “Yes. I do know who you are. Don’t worry. I won’t be selling an exclusive to The Daily Prophet.”
“Wouldn’t do you any good. I own a controlling interest in the paper. I bought the stock, first thing after I killed Voldemort, so they’d stop printing all that rubbish! I’d lived with it for most of my life, and I’d gotten rather sick of it!”
Bethany laughed brightly. “Harry, The only thing I can say is this: Go find her. Talk to her. I think, from what little you’ve told me, that there’s a bigger story here than you might know.” She stood, leaned over, and kissed him on the forehead, turned and walked out the door, leaving a pensive Harry Potter sitting on the bed in a small hotel in Kent.
Now, Harry had no such difficulty. With Hermione he found the ‘spark’ he’d been missing.
It was not sweet. It was not gentle. It was fiercely passionate. It was driving and pounding and violent and harsh!!! It was all that and it was much, much more. It was Hermione’s declaration of her unrelenting love for Harry. It was a sincere apology for his treatment at her hands…unknowing or not. And it was a promise. A promise for the future for them.
Harry didn’t last long. It had been a long while since Bethany, after all. Hermione fared little better. She’d gotten so worked up knowing she was going to have the boy…no, the man, that she’d wanted for so long. When Harry-the-man, stood aside, and Harry-the-beast, took control, Hermione unleashed her own animal to greet him.
They came within moments of each other. Harry climaxed first, with a strangled cry. He clutched her to him her in almost a death grip, with his face buried in the side of her neck. There was not a single inch of him that was not mashed into her so tightly they seemed to be one person! Hermione held Harry as tightly, reveling in the feel of his seed pulsing into her, feeling the over abundance of his hot essence being forced back between her inner wall and his wondrous cock, there as so much and with such a force it was gushing from her.
“Oh, God!” Hermione cried. She forced her head to the side and found Harry’s mouth waiting. Her own climax began as his began to subside. What surprised Hermione the most, was the White warm loving aura that encompassed them, as she came, shaking and shuddering, panting and sweating, Hermione rejoiced as her orgasm ripped through her!
Long minutes later, Hermione lifted her head. Harry gazed into her eyes, with a mixture of shock and love. Hermione saw he was bleeding from his mouth. She’d bitten him in her passion.
“Wow!” Harry whispered. He was astounded by this animal side of his bookish friend. “That was…was…”
“Wonderful!” She breathed.
“Yea.” Harry remained wrapped around her, and she around him.
“Mmmhmmm!” She returned. She kissed his bleeding lip. “I’m sorry, love.” She murmured.
“Don’t be. I’m not.” Harry’s eyes shone with a light she’d not seen in years! It was those lights behind his eyes that had first drawn her, and only now, after the fact, she realized the spark had gone out of those emerald eyes, the day after she had agreed to be Ron’s. Even his dramatic defeat of the greatest evil the wizarding world had known in a century was not enough to restore the glow. Nothing till now.
Hermione returned her mouth to his, probing deeply, tasting his blood on her tongue. She alternated between deep, soulful kisses to his mouth, and soft, languid brushes of her lips on his face and neck. Harry returned the favor in kind, gently pressing his lips wherever he could reach.
Deep within her, Hermione felt Harry begin to stiffen again. Feeling him grow large inside her, she began to slowly, carefully shift her hips.
Now, the panic was gone. The urgency spent. Harry and Hermione began to explore, to touch and caress. This time, it was all it had been before, but not as violent. This time, it was slow and gentle. This time, their loving was just that…loving.
Hermione moaned in pure bliss as frissons of pleasure raced up and down her body.
Harry slowly rolled them over, offering her every opportunity to refuse. Instead, she pulled him down on top of her. Harry moved inside her as slowly, as fully as possible, touching places within her too deeply buried for any other to reach, none would ever reach, save Harry, her love.
Soon enough, her breathing, first grew faster, and then became panting as the pressure built up.
This time, it was Hermione who came first. It was one of her most powerful climaxes ever; especially given that there were no violent thrustings, no pounding or driving. All the strength of this orgasm came from within…from Hermione’s love for Harry, and from Harry’s love for Hermione.
She cried out again, clutching, biting and scratching. Ron used to hate when Hermione bit! Harry seemed to revel in it! Hermione held him tightly to her, arms and legs wrapped around him in a strangling grip. Rather than protest, Harry clutched her just as tightly, his head buried in her neck, and drove more deeply into her.
Hermione stiffened again; her just-finished orgasm, giving rise to another, and another after that and again. Harry continued to thrust with small movements into her body.
Hermione’s internal muscles clenching, with another mind blowing orgasm, she so tightly around his hypersensitive organ, finally pulled Harry over the brink.
Harry grunted, almost in pain, as he spilled into her again. Hermione gasped as she felt herself being filled once more, his seed flooding her insides as it should be.
Panting and gasping, kissing passionately, but not so fervently as before, the lovers slowly calmed.
“That was…” She began.
“Amazing!” He finished her thought.
Soft kisses followed. Gentle touches. strokes. Each seemed to know the thoughts of the other. There were no secrets between them. Each was a soul laid bare.
They rested a bit, simply enjoying the feel of being wrapped warmly around each other. Kisses accompanied. Caresses and sometimes more serious touches followed.
Harry whispered “I Love You, Hermione”
“I Love you too, Harry with all my heart”
Harry grew hard again, and they made love a third time. It was slow and languid…almost lazy, and, although not as explosive as their previous ones, the orgasms was eminently satisfying for Hermione.
Harry didn’t climax this third time, but he enjoyed hers as she did.
Soon afterward, well and truly satisfied, the two young lovers slipped into the welcoming arms of Morpheus.
Hermione woke the next morning in a most delicious manner, slight sore, but oh so happy. Harry, still asleep, was absently caressing her breast, and amazingly enough, he was thrusting gently into her. How he’d entered her in their sleep, she had no idea, but for the time being, Hermione didn’t care, just overjoyed he did. Still, she knew she’d have to wake him, if only so he could do a proper job!
She called softly: “Harry”
Harry opened his eyes, closed them again in sexual bliss, and then snapped them open again in abject horror!
“Oh God! Hermione! I’m so…” He tried to pull away, but Hermione reached behind her and drove her clawed hand into his hip, growling: “You go, you die!”
With her other hand, Hermione grabbed the hand that had been fondling her breast, and pulled him to her. “Don’t you dare be sorry, Harry Potter! I never been awakened so nicely! Now, you get on top of me right this minute and fuck me hard!”
Shocked at her outburst, but never one to refuse a lady, especially Hermione, Harry did as She bade him. Hermione tucked a folded pillow under her and rolled on top of it, pulling Harry with her. The pillow under her hips and her wide-spread legs made her arch upward. She cried out in pleasure as Harry braced his hands on the back of her pelvis and began to thrust intensely.
Hermione had never been taken like this before. Harry’s weight on her arse, combined with his fast, deep, pounding thrusts, quickly drove her to climax after climax!
Hermione buried her face in the pillow and cried out each time an orgasm wracked her petite frame.
Harry drove furiously now, panting and sweating hard, he pounded into her body, his hands braced on the bed beside her.
Suddenly, he stopped.
“Harry! What’s wrong?” Hermione wanted this delicious torment to continue immediately.
“Nothing. Turn over. I want to see your eyes as I make love to you” He withdrew to allow her the freedom to move.
Happily, Hermione complied, wincing as stressed muscles protested. Now, on her back, her knees spread nearly to the mattress. She saw it, for the first time, as she guided him in.
“My God, Harry! You’re huge!”
Harry seated himself in her and resting half on her, and half on his elbows, began to thrust deeply. Emerald eyes sank into cinnamon, as they joined together.
Smiling wickedly, Hermione began to do her Kegals, squeezing him within her. Then she remembered he said make Love to her, Love not shagging, wonderful Love, she moaned in happiness.
Harry gasped in wonderful surprise as she became even tighter around his shaft than before. He now had to force his way in. It seemed Ron had heard about these exercises, and had insisted Hermione practice them, faithfully, so she didn’t ‘loosen up’, as he didn’t want any sloppy pussy!
That comment, had led to a row early on in their relationship, over Ron’s lack of respect towards women in general and Hermione in particular, and had resulted in her staying over at Harry’s place for several days. Needless to say, Ron didn’t get any for a long while! Well from Her! It had also resulted in there being a suite here for her whenever she needed it. She had hated the instruction, more a command, when he’d given it. Now, it looked to be a good thing, Harry seemed to like it.
Harry never let his eyes lose contact with hers, as he drove into her. He knew he was very close. So did Hermione. He felt her hand slip between their bellies, as she sought that special trigger spot. She found it.
Hermione stroked her clitoris expertly, pressing just so. For the very first time, they came almost as one…Harry, with a long, low groan that seemed to be almost a cry, Hermione with soft screams as she shuddered around him.
Harry felt her constrict arrhythmically around him. Now, his control was lost! Burying himself as deeply as possible, he surged into her over and again, just overfilling her again. Never once, did they break eye contact.
Lowering his head Harry joined his lips to hers, exploring her mouth tenderly.
Harry tried to roll to one side to prevent his squishing her, but Hermione was having none of it. She tightened her limbs around him and held on until he simply collapsed on top if her, she needed to feel him on her, needed him to know she could support him and would.
Harry kissed her tenderly. “Good morning, darling.”
“Mmmmm! I feel sooooo yummy! You’ve quite worn me out, Mister Potter.”
“I certainly hope so, Miss Granger. Moreover, I hope to do so again, as often as you will allow.”
“Harry, barring advanced pregnancy, which I hope one day to enjoy, I will allow any time you wish! I love you, Harry. I always have, and I always will.
“Would you marry me?”
“I would if you asked.”
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes. Of course I will!”
“Thank you” Harry leaned in for another kiss. The kiss of a lifetime, Hermione she felt his love, his very being, his soul moving into her thru that kiss and she returned happily her’s to him.

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