Chapter Text
From the moment Ron disapparated before his eyes, Harry knew that his life would never be the same again. And while that might have seemed dramatic, he knew it was true. Up until that point, Harry thought that their friendship had been unshakable. Sure they fought, but that was normal. He’d been around the Weasleys long enough to see first-hand that even brothers by blood fought often.
Ron and the twins had been the perfect example, but up until then, Harry knew that no matter how angry or hurt one of them had been, they would have never turned their backs on each other. But he knew now that he was wrong, so very wrong. And as he would recall later, this hadn’t exactly been the first time that Ronald Weasley’s emotions had led him to fuck off, to choose avoidance.
If it had just been him, Harry was certain that he would have understood, that doing all of this for Harry, the hopelessness he would have got it. But Ron hadn’t just left him; he had abandoned Hermione after expecting her to follow him. It was a bitter pill; he knew everything that Hermione had given up…and he still left.
And oh, how he hated to see her so upset. He knew that she had tried to hide it, that she was being strong for him, but she had never been good at it, not when those amber eyes were like windows into that big, beautiful mind of hers. Because while some people wore their emotions on their sleeve, Hermione Granger wore hers in her eyes. As the days went on he wondered silently, though, if her pain was for the same reasons as his or if there was maybe something more that he was missing.
As they sat around the fire roasting the wild mushrooms they had found, he couldn’t help but stare at her, thinking about how he needed to redo her plait. The fire was casting shadows and highlighting how tired she looked, and it made his chest ache.
“Mi, can I ask you something?” he asked tentatively, not certain why he was choosing that moment to speak.
“Of course, Harry,” she gave him a weary smile, sitting back to look at him. “Is something wrong?”
He gave a hollow-sounding chuckle and gripped her hand, pulling her in close to wrap his arm around her. “I mean, everything is sort of wrong, isn't it?”
“I suppose that was a rather silly question.” She sighed, leaning into his side, her muscles relaxing ever so slightly. “What did you want to ask?”
“No more silly than mine, I suppose. I wanted to ask if you were okay.” She laughed then, a sound he hadn’t felt like he’d heard in months. It was beautiful, and he almost didn’t want to keep going, “I know that Ron leaving was hard. I just…I've noticed how sad you are. And I just needed to check on you.”
She pulled back, and the look she gave him then made his stomach flutter, “Oh, Harry, I…I'm not doing great, but I think it's mostly that Ron leaving, especially the way he did. It just brought up some feelings.”
He felt his stomach drop, and he wasn’t even certain why; he had figured that she’d had a thing for Ron. But to have it confirmed bothered him more than he had expected, “You mean like you wanting to be with him?”
“What?” She turned her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.
“Well, I know last year, with the canaries… and you know.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she shook her head, clearly embarrassed, “No, no, not feelings like that.”
“Can you tell me about it then?”
If she wasn’t so sad because she had fancied him, he wasn’t certain what it was that was weighing on her. Whatever it was, he knew that he wanted to know, so that he could be there for her like she had always been there for him.
For a brief moment, she seemed to be thinking it over as she chewed contemplatively on her bottom lip, “When he told you that you didn't understand, it hurt me. I told you both what I did to my parents. And for him to shout that you had no parents. When they were taken from you was horrendous, Harry.”
She sighed, and he laced his fingers with hers. He couldn’t lie and say that Ron’s words hadn’t stung; it didn’t matter that Ron was sick with worry, or that it was true that Harry couldn’t understand what he was feeling exactly. Because Harry knew it wasn’t that simple. There were plenty of people who were his entire world…people that he couldn’t bear to live without, and two of those people had been on the run with him.
“I gave mine up. I chose to have no parents. And he just used the fact that he had people besides us against you. And then had the nerve to act like me staying with you was…well, you know what he implied." She groaned, and Harry understood how much Ron’s words had hurt her as well.
When he had implied that she and Harry were sneaking around behind Ron’s back, it stung. More than he could admit because Harry knew the truth, that he had been half in love with Hermione since they were thirteen. And he had done the right thing and kept it to himself because he knew how Ron felt about Hermione, even if he would never admit it.
“I'm sorry he didn't think before he spat off.” Hermione hadn’t deserved it. She had never so much as looked at Harry twice. The only boy who’d ever caught her eye besides Krum had been Ron.
“I spent years thinking that I wanted to be with him. I asked him out on a bloody date, but he picked Lavender over me.” She groaned, and he remembered how mad he had been at Ron the night of Slughorn’s party. Lavender had been a nice girl, but she wasn’t Hermione, and it just made no sense to him what Ron had done. “Just because I'm not fawning over him anymore doesn't give him the right to have a go at you. Especially not when you are dating his bloody sister.”
“I don't think you ever fawned over him to be fair,” he laughed, feeling his face flush at the mention of Ginny. “And I’m not dating Gin.”
“Well, of course not right now, but I’m sure you two will find your way back to each other when we get back, Harry.” She smiled at him so bright and genuine and he didn’t know why, but he hated it.
Hated the idea of going back to Ginny, he had thought for a moment that she was who he was meant to want. But he had realized that he was just using her as a distraction, and she had deserved so much more than that.
“No, Gin and I…we are done.”
Her brow was furrowed, and he could tell that she was slightly offended on Ginny’s behalf, “Why? You two are perfect together, Harry.”
The next words left his lips before he could stop them, “No, Mi, we really aren’t. She was never who I wanted.”
“Then why were you together at all?” It was a fair question, and he knew the answer made him sound like a wanker.
“Because you were hung up on Ron, and I knew that she wanted me, and I just couldn’t stand being alone any longer.” The confession hung in the air between them, and he watched an array of emotions wash over her face.
“Me?” she whispered, and he could see the war of emotions in her eyes.
“Did you really not know?” He chuckled nervously, not able to meet her gaze.
“Gin and Ron told me that you said I was like your sister.” he could hear the sadness in her voice, and not for the first time, he hated himself for not thinking before he spoke.
“I did say that to Ron, I knew you fancied him, and I didn’t want him to think that I was in his way. I just wanted you to be happy, Mi. Always.”
When his eyes finally met hers, he could see the disbelief, could see the doubt, and he hated it more than he hated anything. He didn’t want her to doubt him, didn’t want her to believe that he could ever lie to her about something so important, so life-altering. And so he acted, without giving himself time to chicken out, he cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers.
The kiss was hesitant and far too short as he pulled back to rest his forehead against hers. His thumb traced her jaw as they both tried to even their breaths. “I think I fell in love with you the moment that you decided to save Buckbeak, and then again when you slapped Malfoy. It’s always been you, Mi.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, and he saw the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.
“You don’t have to say anything, I just didn’t want you to think that it was her. To romanticize my mistake.”
Loving Ginny would have been so much easier. Being with her would make him part of the Weasley family properly. Being with her would make Ron his actual brother; being with her would be so many things, but it would never be right.
“Kiss me again.” The words were hesitant, shy even, but they were there, and they had his ears ringing as he leaned forward to claim her lips once more.
This kiss was so much more than the last; he could feel the passion, the heat, the need between them, and Merlin did it have him wanting so much more. Her lips were sweet like the richest nectar, but it was her tongue…that wicked tongue that had him aching hard in his trousers as it massaged his.
When they finally came up for air, he felt light-headed, but he still admired the pretty pink flush of her cheeks.
“Shite, that was…” he muttered as he caressed her cheek.
“Yeah.” She looked at him, and he could feel the instant shift between them.
Nothing more was said about what was changing between them as they finished roasting their food, nothing was said while they ate, and certainly nothing was said as they laid down for the night. Harry had been so concerned that he had ruined things between them, that his confession and their subsequent kiss would be the end of the strong bond that they had formed. And the idea of that alone had left his chest aching and his stomach turning, but when he felt her body press back against his as she snuck into his bed, all of the doubt faded.
She didn’t say a word as she turned in his arms to look at him, her pretty amber eyes holding the question that he had been waiting for her to ask all night.
Are you certain it’s me?
He knew her well enough to know that she was scared, that she was worried he had just told her what he thought she wanted to hear. And he knew that he would prove that he meant every single word over and over again for the rest of his life if that’s what it took for her to choose him.
He brought his lips to hers once more as his hands found their way to her waist. He had always known she was small; she had always been close, touching him, hugging him constantly their entire friendship. But there was something about her being in his arms then that just highlighted just how much this time away had changed her, not only mentally but physically. He told himself then, as she kissed him back with so much passion that he would never let her fade away like this again. He would always take care of her. If they survived, he would never again be the source of her pain.
His breath caught in his throat as she removed the oversized jumper that had all but swallowed her small frame to reveal her bare underneath. She was beautiful, thin…too thin, but even the scars that dotted her skin seemed to merely highlight her beauty. He hadn’t meant to do it, not really, but something inside him needed to have his lips on her skin. He rolled her onto her back and kissed his way from her lips, down her neck, across her clavicle, and down her chest, stopping to kiss the pretty mauve scar that bisected her chest. The scar that he knew had come from Dolohov, the scar that he couldn’t help but notice looked like a beautiful paint splatter. Her breath hitched as his lips traced the scar before resting on her hip.
He looked up at her then as he hooked his thumb in her knickers with the question on his lips.
“Please, Harry, I need you,” she whispered, her breath airy and her eyes blown wide.
He could see the pretty little damp patch in the fabric and knew that he wasn’t alone in his want in that moment. He trailed kisses down her thigh and calf as he removed her knickers.
He took a moment sitting back on his heels as he memorized the sight of her bare before him, her center glistening in the soft light of the lantern beside them. She was perfect…too perfect.
“You are beautiful, Mi. Do you even realize?” He sank down between her legs and kissed her stomach just below her belly button.
“You don’t have to say that, Harry.” He could see her neck and chest turning slightly red, and he realized she truly didn’t know.
“I mean it, Mi. You are gorgeous. Gods, I can’t wait…I need to taste you. Tell me I can, please,” he pleaded as he lifted her legs onto his shoulders.
She gasped, “Harry, you don’t have to.”
“You have no idea how much I want to.”
She looked at him, then her poor lip pressed between her teeth before nodding. And he didn’t need to be told twice. He ran a finger through her lower lips, letting out a groan when he felt just how wet she already was for him. As he brought his finger to his lips, his eyes never left her as he sucked it clean. He heard her gasp, her hands fisting the sheets as he leaned in and kissed her cunt deep enough to press his tongue between her folds, just enough to taste her properly.
She whimpered, her thighs already beginning to shake in his hold. His cock twitched as they tightened against his head, drawing his tongue in deeper. He had to resist the urge to switch their position so that he could instead keep her spread wide for him. The idea of having her splayed out was tempting, but being able to feel her already coming undone like this as he ran his tongue along her slit from ass to clit, was too good. As he sucked on her sensitive bundle of nerves, she cried out as his teeth gently nipped enough to make her buck against his face.
“Oh god, Harry… it's, I’m–” she moaned so loudly then as the next swipe of his tongue was a hard, hungry drag from teasing her entrance to lapping at her clit once more, holding her steady as she moaned and writhed against him.
He was certain that nothing had ever made him as hard as he was in that moment, circling the tight bud with the tip of his tongue before flattening it for a thick, long lick. He wanted nothing more than for her to come apart in his mouth; to please her would be a dream. A dream that he hoped would soon become reality as she moaned out his name on her lips over and over. Her hips pressing up again, a sob tearing from her lips. His hands slipped up to her hips, pressing into her tender skin as he tried to ground himself. He wasn’t ready to come in his trousers like a bloody firsty, but seeing her like this, positively drenched already, was enough to have him on edge.
“That's it, Mi, please take what you need, ride my tongue,” he murmured, pulling back, his lips slick with her pleasure.
He needed her to come for him, needed her to be ready to take him because he could feel how desperate he was to relieve the pressure on his aching cock. And as she bucked against his face once more, her fingers finding their way into his unruly hair, he knew that it wouldn’t be long now. He sucked her clit between his lips and flicked it with the rough edge of his tongue enough to make her cry out again. He didn’t know that he would be so into the way that it felt when she gripped his hair, her need never more evident than in this moment. As she pulled him impossibly closer, his tongue diving to new depths, buried as deep as he could get in her greedy little pussy.
He ground his mouth into her, taking turns lapping and suckling until she was shaking, her nails scraping his scalp as she whimpered and stuttered out his name on repeat. He pulled back, watching her as he slid two fingers inside of her. She moaned out loudly at the stretch, her thighs trembling.
“That’s it, you’re so beautiful...come for me...let me see you. Gods, you’re so good for me.”
He bent back down and licked her, long and hard, his eyes never leaving her face as he felt her tremble. She was so close. As she began to approach her climax, he flicked her clit through it. Her whole body locked up at his attention, as he thrust his fingers deeper, curling them as he worshipped her clit. A raw, guttural moan rang out as she shattered on his fingers, her climax soaking his tongue. Her legs wrapped around his head deliciously, drowning them both in pleasure as her cunt fluttered hard under his touch.
He licked her through it, removing his fingers gently, making sure to take care of her as she came down. When her thighs finally fell open again, twitching, while she gasped through the tail end of her orgasm, he groaned into her, kissing the apex of her thighs before he traveled slowly up her body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake.
“We can stop here, Mi, this was more than I could have ever hoped for,” he panted against her lips as his cock ached between them.
She smiled at him then, her eyes glossy before turning towards the nightstand and muttering something under her breath. It wasn’t until he felt the cool night air against his now bare skin that he realized what she’d done.
“I want all of you, Harry.” She blushed, looking up at him.
He felt his heart swell and kissed her tenderly before pulling back a wide smile on his face.
“You already have all of me, you always have,” he admitted, kissing her once more, soaking in the warmth of her touch.
His breath hitched as she reached between them, never breaking their kiss as she ran her thumb over his aching tip. Her touch was like fire in the best way, sending waves of desire throughout his body.
He sat back on his heels as she opened for him, legs falling to either side of his hips, her pretty pink lips inviting him in. Her gaze held his, drifting down slightly as he began to stroke himself at the sight of her. She was so much more than he could have ever hoped for, his best friend, his companion…his everything. She bit her lip as he leaned forward and aligned himself with her entrance, his thick cock pressing against her puffy lips.
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes meeting hers, as his heart raced in anticipation. Once she gave a small nod, his free hand slid to her waist, holding her steady as he slowly began to sink into her.
Her gasp echoed through the room as his thick head stretched her wide. She was so tight, tighter than he had expected after having already come. He stilled, jaw tense, watching the way her fingers clutched at his wrist. It was only then that he’d realized he hadn’t even thought to ask; he felt his chest ache as he looked down between them. The moment he saw the little spot of red, he felt immense guilt that he hadn’t been more gentle, that he hadn’t prepared her enough.
“Shite Mi, I–” he stuttered as he began to pull back, but she stopped him, gripping him tight.
“It’s okay, Harry, you haven’t hurt me, I promise.” She leaned forward, bringing her lips to him. He groaned as the movement pressed him further inside her, her walls welcoming him in.
He was worried. He didn’t want to hurt her, but she felt so good, they felt so right, and he didn’t know if he could hold back. He returned the kiss, the fire between them burning as he began to pump in and out of her as slowly as he could. Working her up as she clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He was so deep now as he began to pick up his pace, each thrust meeting new depths. He pulled back his hands, gripping her waist as he watched her, her lips puffy and kiss-bitten, her eyes rolling back as she moaned and whimpered for him. He watched as her pretty little cunt swallowed him whole and nearly lost himself as he noticed the slight bulge with each and every stroke of his cock against her walls. He picked up his pace, his hips snapping against hers, hitting spots that made her cry out loud and cling to him like she was trying to find purchase.
“Oh, gods… Harry, keep going, you feel, you feel…”
Her words came out desperate and wanting, and they snapped any remaining restraint that he’d had. He pushed deeper, hissing through his teeth as her walls clenched around him like a vice. Her cunt was gripping him so firmly, he had to fight not to lose himself too soon. He wanted their first time to be perfect, to be something that she remembered until their dying day. So he refused to embarrass himself now.
“Fuck, I love you so much, Mi, this…you…you’re everything,” he admitted, his hips beginning to thrust with growing urgency, his hands digging into the softness of her hips. “You’re so bloody perfect…Mi.” he choked out, the devotion in his voice raw and unfiltered.
“I love you, Harry, so much. Please…keep going, I’m so close,” she moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders as he felt her tighten around his cock.
The way her body welcomed him, the way they moved together, it felt right in a way that it never had with anyone else. He wasn’t a virgin by any means. Cho had seen to that in his fifth year, Mandy after her, and finally Ginny…they had all been experiences, had all gotten him where he needed to go, but something had always been missing. And now, as he sank deeper and deeper into Hermione, as he pressed circles into her clit, as she fluttered around him, he knew exactly what it was that was missing.
Love.
He knew, as he stretched her, as his lips met hers once more, that they were always meant to fit, they were always meant for this. Every roll of his hips drove him deeper, harder, each thrust drawing them closer. He couldn’t look away from her, her parted lips, the way her brows pinched in pleasure, the sounds she was making just for him.
He felt her tightening around him, the trembling of her thighs giving her away. She was close. So close. And he was going to take her there.
Again. And again. For the rest of their lives, he was more certain of that than he had been of anything his entire life.
“You’re doing so well, you were made for me…so good for me,” Harry murmured, voice strained as he rambled on. His fingers dug deeper into her hips, grounding himself in their rhythm.
Her cries, his name spilling from her kiss-bruised lips, were better than any fantasy he’d ever conjured, any daydream, any lonely night in the showers. This was perfect; she was perfect. He could feel himself slipping, teetering on the edge, as she melted beneath him, so pliant in his grasp. He looked down between them, groaning as he watched the way her greedy little cunt took him in, clenching and fluttering around his cock.
One hand trailed up the slope of her stomach, pausing as he felt the firm bulge of his cock inside her. He thrust hard, deeper, and she screamed so beautifully that it took every shred of discipline not to spill inside of her then.
He continued up, cupping her breast and bringing it to his lips to lap up the salty sheen on her skin before he took a nipple into his mouth, suckling as his thrusts continued their rhythmic motions. She arched into his touch with a choked cry, her nails clawing at the sheets. He kneaded the soft flesh, fingers expertly rolling her other nipple as he bit down on the other until she whimpered, the sensation clearly pushing her higher. His lips made their way up her chest until he rested his chin on her shoulder.
“Fuck, Mi too good,” he growled, leaning in to nip at the sensitive curve of her neck as her hips rocked up to meet every thrust, desperate to match his pace.
He pressed closer, each stroke fueled by the fire between them, his chest brushing hers, the weight of his body behind every movement. One hand slid from her breast to grip her ribcage, holding her tight, thumb sweeping gently over her side. His other hand held her pinned, anchoring her in place as he began to lose himself in the height of their pleasure.
“Please, fuck please tell me this is real. Tell me that I can keep you. Fuck im so close Mi. Please tell me you're mine.” He hated how desperate he sounded as he tried to ground himself.
But he couldn’t help it; he couldn’t stand it if this was it, if he had to go back to pretending that she didn’t occupy his every thought.
“Yours, I swear, Harry, Always yours…Only yours,” she gasped, her voice breaking as their eyes met.
His heart pounded and his magic pulsed beneath his skin as those precious words left her lips. He pulled back just enough to see her, to watch her fall apart for him. Her head tipped back, eyes rolling as her mouth parted in ecstasy.
“I need you to come for me,” he whispered, kissing the soft skin of her neck, voice trembling as he tried to hold on a moment longer. “Can you do that, Mi?”
“Yes!” she moaned as she shattered beneath him, her orgasm crashing through her like a wave. Her body trembled and tensed, her cunt pulsing around his cock so tightly that it was almost painful. She was truly the most beautiful woman he had ever known, both mind and body.
The sight of her flushed skin, that delicate pink blooming across her neck and cheeks, and the way her lips parted in that soft, pouty way had him trying to forge this moment to memory so that he could relive it over and over.
“That’s it,” he whispered, voice raw as he held her tight. “Gods, you’re perfect. You’ve done so well, Mi.”
His grip on her waist tightened as he thrust through the tremors of her climax, keeping her grounded as her body trembled beneath him.
“That’s it, love… Just like that.”
She was shaking, her body slick and twitching as he fucked her through it. He knew that he was barely holding on, but he wanted to make sure that she finished before he finally let go. His thrusts were growing uneven, driven more by instinct now, stretching her with every desperate stroke. She arched into him, her hips meeting his again and again until she finally went limp beneath him, utterly spent.
Harry buried himself to the hilt with a ragged groan, his head falling back as he cried out her name. He was so deep he felt himself bump her cervix, and he tried, tried, to pull back, but it was too late. His release hit hard, flooding her in long, pulsing waves, and he knew that he couldn’t have stopped it if he tried, as he spilled everything he had into her.
“That was–”
“Perfect,” he finished her thought as he sank down beside her, pulling her against his chest. “You are perfect, Mi,” he whispered into her ear before kissing her neck and pulling the blanket over them.
She fell asleep so peacefully in his arms, and Harry was certain that this was the first moment of the rest of their lives together, and he had never been happier. Ron may have been gone, the hunt wasn’t going as well as they had hoped, but none of that mattered when he had the witch of his dreams in his arms.
Harry awoke with a sudden jolt, the sound of his wand vibrating on the bedside table his signal that the time for sleep was over. He sighed, bending down to grab his jumper from the floor before pulling it over his unruly hair. He reached for his glasses and tried to clear his mind of all thoughts but those of the mission ahead.
As he made his way down the familiar hall, his eyes locked onto the small portrait hanging on the wall and felt that familiar ache in his chest. It was all so wrong, he thought, as he tried to push the memories away. He flipped the portrait, not wanting to see those brown eyes a moment longer, her pink dress and round belly standing out even more so than her bright red hair.
He sighed as he opened the door, walking over to the cot and summoning the fresh bottle.
“How did it all go so wrong, Jamie?” he sighed as his son let out a little whimper.