December 2001
"Why do we keep doing this to ourselves?" Hermione groaned as she glowered at the wet dough in her hands. It definitely wasn't supposed to be this sticky. How had she got it wrong again?
"You're the one who insisted we learn how to cook," Ron pointed out, his tone accusing. "I wanted to try out all the restaurants in the area but you said—" he starting counting on his fingers, "—that we'd gain a stone if we kept eating out, that it would be good for us to finally master this skill, and that it would be fun."
Hermione turned to Harry and held up the unmanageable dough. "Help."
He smiled and vanished the dough with his wand. Once free, Hermione turned to Ron and said matter-of-factly, "I don't recall any of that."
Ron snorted. "Let's take a trip into Harry's pensieve then. Because I have the memory right here." Ron tapped the side of his head.
"I think it was my idea to try a pork pie," Harry cut in. "So I think this disaster of a meal is my fault."
Hermione shrugged. "I'm okay with calling it Harry's fault." She gave him a small wink only he could see.
He brushed his hand against the small of her back before turning to Ron. "Aren't you dating a chef? Maybe she could teach us a few things."
Ron rubbed the back of his neck as his ears turned red. "Oh. Uh—no more chef."
Hermione raised her eyebrow. "What was that? Two dates?"
"Three," he said defensively.
"Much better," she said sardonically, but there wasn't any bite to her tone.
She'd been a little annoyed that Ron had started dating so prolifically, seeming to be with a new witch every other week, but she knew this was his way of dealing with their break-up. He had always been insecure and Hermione calling off their wedding certainly hadn't helped with that. So it made sense that he would go looking for acceptance from other witches. And it wasn't surprising that he'd been so successful.
He was handsome, likable, funny, and still pretty famous from the war. She just hoped it didn't get too out of hand since it wouldn't be good if he accidentally got someone pregnant. And knowing Ron, he probably wasn't asking witches to detail out their contraceptive methods before inviting them back to his place.
"Jealous?" Ron asked, nudging her arm.
Hermione could feel Harry's eyes on her but kept her head forward. She stuck her tongue out at Ron. "You know that's not it. Also, I'd like to point out that I was right to call off our wedding. You clearly had some wild oats to sow."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It's a Muggle farming term. It just means you want to have sex with a lot of people before settling down."
"Oh." Ron just nodded. "Can we talk about something else?" Harry asked. "Beside Ron's sex life?" "Yes, please," Hermione said. She looked over at the half-made meal, then back at the boys. "I don't think this is salvageable. I'll go get us some sandwiches from that deli Ron likes." "I can go—" Harry began to say. "It's okay," she said quickly. She was already in the hall when she added, "You two clean up. I'll be right back." Once the door slammed shut, Ron turned to Harry, who was trying to spell the washcloth into wiping up the mess of dough and flour Hermione had left on the counter. After the second try with no luck, he just went over and started wiping the counter by hand. "Hermione's sort of all over the place today, isn't she?" Ron asked. Harry just shrugged. "Do you know why?" "No idea." "But you're the Hermione whisperer." "You dated her for two years," Harry countered. "The Hermione now isn't the same one I dated." "Deep, Ron." "So, you're not going to tell me," Ron said, leaning back against the counter. "I don't know." Harry picked up another cloth and tossed it at Ron's chest. "She's fine. She just gets like this when she's working through something. Now can you help me with this?" Ron caught the washcloth and started washing the dishes in the sink as he told Harry the real story about the chef, and how he'd had to dump her because on their third date, her ex-boyfriend had shown up at the restaurant they were eating at and demanded Ron stay away from her. "How did he find you?" Harry asked. "He'd put a trace on her necklace." Harry raised an eyebrow. "Did she know?" "Nope." "Well, that's illegal." "Yeah. I know. I mean, it's literally my job to know these things and to bring in blokes like that, but she didn't want me to. She was defending him and I just left. I didn't want that drama." Harry hummed. "Would you have won in a duel?" Ron huffed. "Absolutely. He was a big bloke, but I could tell he was slow. Not worth it though. I want a witch— well—" He cut off awkwardly. "What?" Harry pressed.
Ron swallowed hard and kept his eyes on the dishes in the sink as he responded. "The next time I date someone seriously, I'd want to be sure I'm the only wizard on her mind."
Harry winced. "Yeah. That's fair."
"Plus, I reckon Hermione's right. I'm probably not ready for a serious relationship. And I'm enjoying dating around, at least for now."
"Sure," Harry replied. At a loss for anything else to say.
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"There was another article in Witch Weekly analyzing your tragic dating history."
Harry shook his head as he tossed the washcloth in the sink, then leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "You read that rubbish?"
"The chef told me about it."
"What did it say?"
At this point in the conversation, Hermione re-entered the house, but Harry and Ron didn't hear the click of the door opening over the sound of the water running in the sink.
"Apparently, because you didn't have your parents growing up and your childhood was tainted by having to constantly fend off You-Know-Who, you never learned how to love people properly. Ginny wasn't able to teach you, since she comes from a large, loving family so naturally, your relationship fell apart."
"Naturally," Harry said bitterly. "Well, I guess that explains the uptick in the mail I've been receiving."
Ron finished washing off the last pot, turned off the sink, then turned to Harry. "Still don't read any of it?"
Harry shook his head.
Ron chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to determine to what extent Harry would bite his head off if he said the thing on his mind. Harry seemed to be in a decent mood, so Ron went for it. "Why don't you date? It's fun. And yes, I know what you're going to say, but I don't think this Hermione thing is going to happen anytime soon and —"
"No," Harry said curtly.
"You won't even consider—"
"No," he repeated. "I told her I'd wait for her and that would hardly count as waiting. Plus, it would be pointless. I know who I want. If I was with some other witch, I'd just be thinking about Hermione the whole time and comparing the witch to her, and there's no way whoever it was would measure up. It would be a disaster. I'll just wait."
Ron shook his head. "I just thought you could use some fun. No offense, mate, but you don't really have much of that in your life, do you?"
"Sure I do. I hang out with Teddy all the time. We go to the pub with Neville every week. I still have breakfast with Hermione in the morning, and I've been fixing up the house with the rest of my time. I don't need much more than that."
Hermione chose this moment to walk into the kitchen. "Here you go," she said, placing the bag of food on the table.
"When did you come in?" Ron asked.
"Just now."
"I didn't hear the door open. Were you just standing out there listening to us talk about you?"
"Yes," she said simply. She knew it wasn't worth lying. Plus, none of what Harry said were things he wouldn't have said in front of her.
Ron looked at Harry, who seemed unphased. "You don't care that she was spying on us?"
Harry shrugged. "I'm not one to talk, am I?" He turned to Hermione. "I meant all of it. I'm committed to waiting for you. As long as it takes."
She blushed as she took the sandwiches out of the bag and placed them on plates. "Yes, I know."
Ron cringed as he took a seat in front of his sandwich. "This is painful to watch."
Harry snorted, taking the seat next to Ron. "Don't lie. You love it."
Ron chewed most of his way through the giant bite in his mouth before answering. "I do, sort of. But it's getting a little sad. A part of me wonders if this was just some master plan of yours, Hermione. Stringing Harry along for so long that I'm actually supportive of you two, desperate to put an end to this agonizing 'will they/won't they' thing."
Harry let out a laugh. Hermione caught his eye and smiled before turning to Ron. "There's no master plan. I'm not that manipulative. I'm just not ready to date anyone and when I am, Harry will be the first to know. Anyway, let's talk about something else."
"Yes, please," Harry said.
"I got a job," Hermione announced.
"Wait, what?" Harry replied, putting his sandwich back on his plate. "When?"
"Today."
"You didn't say anything earlier."
"Yeah, she keeps secrets. Get used to it," Ron cut in. "What's the job?"
"Thanks for that, Ronald," Hermione said brusquely before launching into an explanation of her plan to work for a private company that manufactured spelled objects that helped make the life of the average wizard easier. "Like those hats George stocks that make the person invisible for an hour," Hermione explained.
"You're going to work for a company that competes with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" Ron asked. "Haven't you done enough to piss off the Weasleys?"
Hermione kicked him under the table. He winced and leaned down to grab his shin. "Ow."
"They don't compete. They're marketing to completely different clientele. Besides, the whole premise of making little objects to help wizards with everyday life is absurd. Why don't they just learn the necessary spells themselves? If this sort of laziness perpetuates across generations, there's a very real possibility that magic could die out. Or worse, that only a few people would know how to use it, making them dangerously powerful."
"I don't understand," Harry said. "If you don't like the premise of the company, why are you working there?"
"They're starting up a new division that's meant to be more philanthropic. They want to help healers do their jobs better, arm the Aurors and MLE teams with protective gear that would give them the energy to focus on offensive spells, that sort of thing. These products wouldn't be made for a profit."
"Why would a company like that make stuff for free?" Ron asked.
Hermione shrugged. "Tax breaks. Good press. I don't know. But I'm really good at spell manipulation, that's mostly what I did at the Department of Mysteries, so I think I would be a big help. And I'd learn a ton, like mixing different types of magic, such as Potions, Spells, and Runes, to make something entirely new. I had only begun to scratch the surface of that sort of thing. And, yes, when I get sick of working for a money-hungry company, or if this non-profit section seems like a scam, I'll just leave."
"It sounds dangerous," Harry said.
She smiled and placed a hand on his arm. "It will be nothing compared to the things I did in the Department of Mysteries."
"I still don't like it," Harry grumbled. "Why don't you just brew potions?"
"Why don't you just teach Quidditch?" she countered.
He stuck his tongue out at her in answer.
They took a break from the conversation to finish off their sandwiches. Ron finished first, of course, then rummaged around in Harry's pantry until he found a bag of crisps. He poured a giant pile onto his plate and placed the rest of the bag, which was half empty, at the center of the table.
"Okay," Hermione said, pulling several crisps out of the bag and putting them on her plate. "Christmas is two weeks away. What are your plans?"
"Same as always," Ron said. "I'll be at the Burrow all day. You two are welcome to come, but, well, with how dinner went last month—"
"I'll pass," Harry said. "Plus, I already made plans to spend the day with Teddy and Andromeda." He turned to Hermione. "What about you? You'll be with your parents?"
"Yeah," she sighed. "So my holiday is going to be cold and distant."
Harry grabbed her hand under the table. "Come with me. I promise Christmas with Teddy will be warm and close."
She smiled while Ron made a fake barfing motion over his plate, which earned him another kick from Hermione. "I'll be fine. I'm used to it by now. But I thought we could get together for Boxing Day. Maybe make dinner. Or order something," she amended when she saw the look on Ron's face. "Do you have plans on Boxing Day?"
"No," the boys said at the same time.
"It's a Wednesday, so I didn't know if the Sad Wizards' Club would be meeting. But we can invite Neville if you want."
Ron scoffed. "You need to stop calling it that."
"I don't mean it in a bad way," Hermione explained, "but that is sort of what it is. Like a little grief support group you've created. I especially like how you start each meeting by going around and saying—"
Harry clapped a hand over her mouth as Ron said, "You told her?!"
Harry winced apologetically.
"We agreed not to tell anyone else!" Ron exclaimed.
Harry shrugged as he took his hand back. "I didn't think Hermione counted. She knows everything."
"I'll keep the secret, Ron. Weren't you just saying how good I am at that?" she said sharply.
Ron just rolled his eyes.
Harry stood and began clearing their empty plates. "Back to the previous topic, yes, we should invite Neville. And I'll order food so we don't have to cook."
Ron and Hermione made their way to the sitting room to watch the telly like they always did after dinner. Though "watch" probably wasn't an accurate word. They picked a Muggle show, the more ridiculous, the better, then Harry and Hermione took turns explaining things to Ron. They called it "Muggle Studies," though it always ended up being more entertaining than informative.
When Harry arrived in the room, Hermione was sitting on the sofa next to Ron, holding a wrapped gift.
"What's that?" Harry asked as he took a seat in the chair across from them.
"A gift," she replied.
"Yes, we gathered that, Hermione," Ron replied. "Who is it for? And why now? Christmas is two weeks away."
"I know. But I wanted to give you two your gifts early. I have other gifts I'll send you on Christmas but these— these are different."
She got up and held the wrapped gift out to Harry.
"I only see one gift," Ron said. "Are you suggesting Harry and I share? Because after growing up with six siblings, I don't like sharing."
Harry and Hermione weren't paying attention to Ron. Harry was looking down at the small, rectangular gift in green wrapping. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked hoarsely.
She smiled. "You promised to act surprised."
Harry blinked back tears as he tore the wrapping away to reveal a leather-bound notebook. He opened it to a random page in the middle and began to read.
We all flew on broomsticks to see the waterfall behind the name "Fall's End." It was breathtaking, shooting up into the sky out of an ominous mist. I was so overcome by the beauty of the scene that I kissed Harry, right there on our broomstick. I just wanted to be close to him. Sharing that moment made it feel more real, somehow.
He smiled and moved his eyes to the opposite page.
James and Harry took turns diving off the cliff on their brooms, playing a game of chicken to see who would turn up away from the mist first. I hated every second of it, but Harry loved it and he won every time. Which didn't surprise anyone.
"You captured everything," Harry said in awe as he flipped through the pages, stopping to read a few quotes of James and Lily's that she'd copied down. He laughed when he read:
Lily voted no. James said, "Is this one of those things where if I don't agree with you, I'm going to be paying for it for the rest of the trip?"
Lily rolled her eyes and said, "James votes yes, he's just too scared to say so." I don't know why, but this interchange sums the pair up perfectly. Every time I think of it, I smile.
A few tears finally escaped Harry's eyes and he rubbed them away so they wouldn't fall on the pages of the notebook and smudge the ink. But knowing Hermione, she'd probably cast a protective charm on the pages.
"It took me longer than I thought, but it's all there."
Harry beamed as he looked up at her. She'd clearly worked very hard on this. If Ron hadn't been there, he would have pulled her onto his lap and thrown his arms around her. Harry's eyes shifted to Ron, who was watching them with an expression that was a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.
"Thank you," Harry said, reaching out and squeezing her hand. "I love it."
"Do you two want me to leave?" Ron asked.
Hermione gave Harry an exasperated smile only he could see, then squeezed his hand before dropping it and returning to her spot on the sofa next to Ron. "Of course not."
"What was the gift? A collection of love letters or something?"
"No," Hermione sighed. "It's a detailed account of our trip. I was taking notes for most of it and managed to recreate them in this world. Then I cleaned it all up and, anyway. It's just our trip."
Ron hummed and looked back at Harry, who looked like he hadn't decided if he wanted to smile or cry.
"Are you ready for your gift?" Hermione asked. She looked at Harry, who gave her a nod.
"Of course," Ron replied, sitting up straighter. "Harry knows what it is?"
Hermione nodded. She'd run the idea past Harry first, since she didn't know how he'd feel about sharing some of the Wonders of the World with Ron, but he'd been supportive.
"Where is it?" Ron asked, looking around the room for a present.
"It's not wrapped or anything," Hermione said. "Just listen."
Ron focused back on her.
"I thought it might be fun if we all took a trip to one of the Wonders of the World. Harry and I know a lot about them now and I could plan it, figure out any entry requirements, accommodations, Portkeys, and the like. All you have to do is pick the Wonder you want to see and the date you want to go."
Ron's mouth fell open. "Really?"
Hermione nodded. "Yeah. I mean—if you want to—"
"Of course I do! Those places sounded brilliant! I thought it was your special thing, though."
"It's not," Hermione replied. "You've been incredible these past few months, a better friend than either of us deserved and we—we'd like to share them with you." She looked over at Harry, who nodded in agreement. "But, um, only one to start. And not one of the expensive ones, please. At least not until I'm earning a regular salary again."
"Great. Okay. Um, what are the expensive ones?"
"The Forgotten City and the Hidden Depths."
Ron sat back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. "Okay. That's alright. I already know which one I want to see first and it's not one of those."
"Which one do you want to see?" Harry asked.
"The Veil."
Harry nodded, unsurprised. "You picked the most depressing one."
"Yeah," Ron said. "Are you two up for it?"
Harry and Hermione locked eyes and a few silent words passed between them before Hermione turned back to Ron. "Of course. It's your gift. Let me know which weekends work best for you and I'll start planning it."
Ron swore as he focused back on the ceiling. "Am I really going to see Fred?"
"I think so," Hermione said gently. "Keep in mind, Harry and I never approached the Tear in the Veil, so we don't know exactly how it works, but we know James talked to Sirius. So… yeah."
Ron looked up at Harry. "Who do you think you'll see?"
Harry shook his head. "I'll probably leave it alone again."
He looked at Hermione, who was nodding sadly.
"Oh, shit. I can pick a different one. Or you can just set it up and stay back or—"
"No," Harry said. "We'll all go. Believe me, you'll want the support."
Ron nodded, then laid back on the couch. "Can I bring George?" he asked.
"Of course," Hermione replied, placing a hand on his arm. "Whoever you want."
Ron closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. Just the thought of seeing Fred again made him want to curl up into a ball and cry. He'd be able to talk to him. Hear his laugh… He shoved his palms into his eyes. Harry was right. He'd need as much support as possible.
"I'm sorry this turned rather depressing," Hermione said after a few moments. "That's why I wanted to give these gifts out early. So you wouldn't be sad at Christmas."
Ron turned his head toward her. Her eyes were swimming with concern and her hand was still resting on his arm. "You knew I'd pick the Veil?"
She nodded. "I've already started looking into it."
Ron smiled. "You're brilliant."
She blushed slightly. "Thanks."
Ron took another few breaths, then sat back up on the couch. "Hang on," he said, regarding Hermione, who had just picked up the remote and was about to turn on the telly.
"Yeah?" she asked.
"Why are you so poor?"
"What?"
"You've been so concerned about money lately, but didn't you get an inheritance when your grandparents died a few years ago?"
She shifted uncomfortably. "It was hardly an inheritance. Plus, that's none of your business, Ronald."
Ron looked at Harry. "What's going on with her?"
"She's right there," Harry said while Hermione said at the same time, "I'm right here."
Ron still eyed Hermione searchingly. She was hiding something. He knew it. But it was clear she wasn't going to own up to it.
"Are we done? Ready for Muggle Studies?" Hermione asked, cocking her head toward the television.
"One more thing!" Ron exclaimed, remembering something he'd been meaning to ask her about for ages. "The talk of inheritances reminded me of it. Have you seen my Deluminator?"
She immediately averted her gaze.
"What? Where is it?" he pressed.
Hermione winced and said into her lap, "I lost it."
"Wait. What? How?"
"Well, actually, it's not lost, per se. I know exactly where it is."
"Where?"
Ron looked over at Harry and was surprised to see that he seemed to know where it was. "Where is it?" Ron asked Harry.
"I'm guessing the Department of Mysteries," Harry supplied, looking to Hermione for confirmation, who nodded.
"Oh, Bollocks. I guess I can't convince you to break in and get it, can I?" he asked Hermione.
She shook her head. "Breaking in when I was in the other world was one thing, since I was about to leave that time behind. This… Well, let's just say if I get caught, Kingsley would probably throw me out of the country. Especially after I blackmailed him just a few months ago."
"You blackmailed the Minister for Magic?!" Ron exclaimed. "Are you mad?!"
He looked at Harry who again, seemed unsurprised.
"What's the story?" Ron asked Hermione.
She waved him away and finally turned the telly on. "There's no story. How do you feel about a cooking show tonight?"
"I'll just have Harry tell me, he obviously knows it," Ron retorted.
Hermione shrugged, then smirked at Harry. "I'm sure he will. We've already proven Harry's dreadful at keeping secre—"
Harry cut her off by throwing a pillow at her.
Later that night, Hermione was sitting at the desk in her flat, pouring over a pile of notes. She looked around her to make sure she was alone, more out of habit than necessity, since the wards would alert her to anyone's arrival, then removed a silver object from her drawer. She clicked it once and the light in the lamp flew into the small object.
Crookshanks, who'd been watching her, let out a soft mewl in protest. Hermione returned the light bulb and focused back on her notes. There was still one unanswered question from her trip with Harry. Why had the Deluminator brought her to that world out of all the worlds it could have chosen?
She'd thrown herself into researching the topic once she'd returned, eager for a distraction from everything else going on, but she hadn't found the answer. She was missing something. She'd set her notes to the side at the time, resolved to come back to them with a fresh mind, and Ron's mention of his Deluminator had reminded her that the mystery remained unsolved.
Hermione already understood the magic behind the Deluminator. It was primarily composed of the fifth elemental magic, love in this case, with a large amount of air and fire mixed in. She'd also figured out that the love magic only worked when there was a balance of feelings between the person using this object as the guide and the person or people they were trying to get to.
She, Harry, and Ron had incorrectly assumed the reason Ron was able to find them during the war was because they'd spoken his name. There was more to it. By speaking his name, they'd forced themselves to acknowledge Ron and their feelings for them. And at that point, they'd realized they loved him and missed him and wanted him there with them. If they hadn't missed him or wanted him there, just speaking his name wouldn't have worked.
However, this two-way love required to activate the magic in the Deluminator was problematic when it came to using it as a guide to another world where no one would know them. So Hermione had removed it, altering the spells on the object to balance the magic in a different way. It had been simple, so simple she'd been able to recreate the alterations in the other world. Now, the object in her hand simply guided the user to the place of maximum love and happiness.
But the question remained, why had it led her to that world out of all the worlds in the universe? Yes, the war was over and won and yes, she was with Harry, but she was suffering from an extremely painful injury that could never be cured and may even impact her ability to safely carry children. Was that really Hermione's ideal world?
She believed that she ended up with Harry in multiple worlds. She also believed that there were several worlds where they'd won the war. Worlds where she hadn't been seriously injured. So again, why this world? Was it because of Lily and James? She loved them, of course, but surely, she could have found loving mentors in other worlds, too? It was almost as if the Deluminator had led her to the world that maximized Harry's love and happiness, instead of hers.
She'd wondered if that was the case. If the Deluminator had taken into account both of their desires when they'd traveled together, but that didn't explain why Hermione had ended up in that world when she'd traveled alone, ahead of her trip with Harry.
Hermione pushed back from her chair and looked at Crookshanks. "It has something to do with Harry. I just don't know what."
Crookshanks turned around and resettled with a small groan. Then, it clicked.
That world had maximized her and Harry's combined happiness. The war was won, his parents were alive, and they were together. It was possible that there was just one world where all of that had happened. And yes, Hermione had sustained a serious injury, but overall, she was happiest there because Harry was. And Lily and James certainly factored into it. She'd loved them deeply, and that had been after only two weeks of knowing them.
That was it. That was the answer. Harry was the part of the equation she'd been missing. She recalled what Lily had told her at Fall's End.
"Every time we've seen a spectacular sight on this trip, he's looked at you, because I think he enjoys them more through your eyes."
The Deluminator had worked like that, but to a more extreme degree. When she clicked that Deluminator in the portal, it had considered not just her heart's desire when choosing which world to take her to, but Harry's, too. Because weren't they one and the same?
Hermione sighed and dropped her head into her hands as several tears rolled down her cheeks. Now that she'd let herself think about Lily and James, their words came flooding into her mind.
"He's sincere. Try to forgive him for the past and let him show you the man he is now."
"You help everyone around you. But when it comes to your own happiness, you don't fight. Why is that?"
"Because I'm scared, James," Hermione said out loud. But it was Lily's words that came to her mind next. Hermione knew exactly how she'd respond if she were here.
"You love people like that, with your whole being. You love Harry like that and maybe you're scared, like I was, but you shouldn't be. He loves you just as much."
Hermione wiped her tears with the sleeve of her jumper and looked back at the Deluminator. She picked it up and thought of Harry. When she clicked it again, a blue, pulsing light appeared in the room. She watched it for several seconds, then it engulfed her body. This had happened a few times already. She knew exactly where she'd end up if she Disapparated. But before now, she hadn't had the courage. She'd allowed doubt and fear to cloud her mind.
"Just live, Hermione, okay? The fighting is over, you won, and now it's time to live."
"Live," she repeated looking down at the light pulsing near her heart. But it wasn't any of James or Lily's words that ultimately made her stand up out of the chair. It was Harry's.
"I think you're supposed to end up with me. And I plan to wait for you for as long as you need."
"No matter what happens between us, we'll always be like this. Friends, above all else. I can't lose this. I can't lose you."
"Friends. No matter what happens," Hermione breathed, standing up. But still, she hesitated, gripping her wand hard in one hand and the Deluminator in the other. In the end, it was her own voice that gave her the final push.
You're not going to lose him! But if you keep waffling, you may miss your chance to be with him and we both know you've wanted that for longer than you're willing to admit! Stop being a coward and Disapparate.
She closed her eyes, turned on her toe, and blinked out of sight.
Harry had just put on his pajama bottoms and was about to climb into bed, ready to read the journal Hermione had given him earlier when two things happened simultaneously. He felt the flutter of the wards and the doorbell chimed. His eyes flashed to the clock. There were only five people who could get into his wards: Hermione, Ron, Andromeda, Neville, and Luna. Which of them would be calling this late?
Harry pocketed his wand, then went to the dresser and grabbed a t-shirt before going downstairs to answer the door. He pulled the shirt over his head as he descended the stairs. He straightened his glasses and tapped his wand, to confirm it was close, before opening the door.
It was Hermione.
She was wearing the same deep blue jumper she'd been wearing at dinner but had traded her jeans for a pair of grey joggers. She was holding Ron's Deluminator in one hand and her wand in the other. Harry could tell she'd been crying and she looked scared. "What happened?" he said urgently, pulling her into the house by her elbow. He looked around the street but nothing seemed amiss, so he closed the door and turned back to Hermione.
"Are you okay? What happened?"
She looked down at the Deluminator in her hand, then up at him. "I love you."
Out of all the things he'd been expecting her to say, that wasn't it.
"I love you," she repeated. "Because you also smile in your sleep. Because you tell dark jokes, are terrible at Chess, are not terrible at cooking, but pretend to be because you hate it, and because the easiest way to pull you out of a dark mood is to put Teddy on your lap and get him to laugh."
"Bloody hell," Harry whispered. Was this actually happening? He'd dreamed about this so many times it was hard to figure out if this was just another fantasy. There was one way to find out.
"I love you because—oomph." He cut her off with a kiss.
Harry wrapped an arm around her waist and placed the other behind her head, entangling his fingers in her curls. She wrapped her arms behind his neck, still gripping the Deluminator and her wand in her hands, then opened her lips, inviting him in.
Harry pushed his tongue into her mouth. His heart thumped hard when she met him, sliding her tongue against his before pulling back slightly and kissing her way along his bottom lip. When she pulled his lip between her teeth, he let out a small groan. Fuck, this was real. None of his fantasies had been this good.
She leaned back and smirked at him. "You cut me off. I had more reasons."
Harry pressed a soft kiss on her lips, then kissed a path along her jawline to her neck. "You can tell me the rest later," he said as he peppered kisses along her neck.
Hermione replied with a contented sigh. She tilted her head up and focused on the feeling of Harry devouring her neck. The scratching of his stubble against her skin coupled with the softness of his lips was sending delicious chills through her body. She felt that familiar heat between her legs, one that had been building for months, She couldn't wait any longer. She needed more.
Hermione moved her wand and the Deluminator into the same hand, then used her other hand to grab Harry's chin and tilt his face up. Her breath caught as their eyes met and she saw the look of desire there. He'd never looked at her like that. "Are you okay?" he whispered, concern pushing a bit of the lust out of his eyes.
She gave him a quick kiss. "Let's go upstairs."
Harry didn't need to be told twice. He pulled her into another kiss as he walked backward to the stairs. They slowly made their way up, Harry never releasing his firm grip on her.
"This would probably be easier if we took a break from kissing," Hermione pointed out when they were halfway up the staircase.
"Probably," he murmured against her lips, but made no moves to break away. Instead, he pulled her tighter against him, pressing his hips into hers. She could feel his erection and let out a small moan, then started kissing him harder.
Once they finally stumbled into his bedroom, Hermione placed the items she was holding on the dresser. She turned back to Harry and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt. He winced. "Damn. Why are your hands so cold?"
"They're always cold," she said as she pulled his shirt up over his head. "Something for you to get used to."
He smiled at that.
She took his glasses off next, which made both of them laugh, and placed them on the dresser. Then she started running her hands along his chest.
"Too cold?" she asked.
He shook his head as he fixed her with an intense stare. "I'll live."
Hermione pushed him back a few feet so he was pressed against the wall. She kissed one side of his neck, then the other, before whispering in his ear, "I love you."
"I know. Did it really take you this long to figure it out?"
She moved her hands up to his neck and began playing with his hair. "No. I figured it out in Norway."
He frowned. "You were supposed to tell me as soon as you knew."
"I did. You were asleep."
He let out a breath of a laugh, then reached out and cupped her face in his hand. "You really do like to overcomplicate things, don't you?"
Hermione responded with a shy smile. Her heart raced as she took him in. This was her Harry, the one she'd been desperately in love with for years without realizing. She traced the oval scar the locket had left over his heart. Then, the one from Nagini's bite on his forearm, which she'd never been able to fully heal.
She'd told herself in the other world that his feelings weren't real. That he wasn't real. She focused on the slight differences in his appearance every time he told her he loved her. But here he was, back in his own body, months after the trip, still wanting her. She placed a palm over his heart and kissed him deeply, pushing him into the wall.
Harry kissed her fiercely as he gently trailed his hands down her side, stopping at the bottom of her jumper. He moved his fingers along the hem in question. Hermione answered by pulling the jumper off in one motion and tossing it to the side. She pressed against him, pulling him close by the shoulders and relishing the feel of his warm skin against hers as they continued to kiss passionately.
After a few more moments, Hermione decided enough was enough, then pulled down her joggers and stepped out of them. Harry smiled at her look of impatience. He ran his thumb under the strap of her bra and was thrilled when she removed that too. His eyes flicked down to her breasts, then back to her face, where she was wearing a look that seemed to say, "Your move."
Fuck. He'd been trying to move slowly, to give her time to change her mind, just in case. But she'd made it clear she wanted this. Warmth radiated through his entire body, settling between his legs, but he tried to ignore it and focus on her. He pulled her against his chest then turned them so she was the one against the wall.
She let out a small cry of surprise that he quickly silenced by placing his mouth over hers. He cupped one of her breasts in his hand and ran the pad of his thumb over her nipple, causing her to moan into his mouth. He pressed his hips into her and groaned when she responded by stroking him through his pajama bottoms. Fuck, he wasn't going to last if she kept that up.
In an effort to distract her, he tilted his head down and started running a tongue around her nipple. She gasped and slammed her head back against the wall. As Harry gently sucked on her breasts, he began feathering his fingers over the top of her knickers. After several moments of this, Hermione pushed him back by his shoulders and said roughly, "Take the bloody things off."
"You're really impatient," he smirked, looping his fingers through the elastic around her hips.
"And you're a tease."
"Says the witch who made us wait four and a half months for this," he quipped as he slowly lowered her knickers. Once she'd stepped out of them, he returned to kissing her neck as he moved a hand between her legs. Fuck, she was already so wet.
He slipped a finger inside her. She let out a low moan. Harry moved his thumb to her clit and began rubbing circles over the bundle of nerves. He grinned when he heard her breath catch in her throat. He placed a final kiss on her neck before leaning back so he could see her. She had her eyes closed and was biting her lip. Damn, she was gorgeous. There was a thin sheen of sweat along her brow, her cheeks were flushed, and a few curls had escaped her bun and were framing her face. She loved watching her unravel under his touch.
He hooked the finger that was inside her and watched her eyes shoot open. "Harry," she gasped, almost pleading. He slipped a second finger inside her. She gripped his shoulders harder, digging her nails into his skin, and squeezed her eyes shut again.
"I'm—uh—on the Potion," she forced out as he pumped his fingers inside her.
"Oh, right. Okay."
"Okay," she smiled, then began moving her hips in time with his hand as he returned to kissing her breasts.
Hermione bit hard on her lip to keep from crying out. The way Harry was sucking on her breasts coupled with what he was doing with his hand, it was perfect. She could feel that wonderful tension building and tried to stave it off as waves of pleasure rippled through her. But it was too much.
"Harry," she groaned, reaching down to stroke him again through his trousers, so he'd know what she was asking for. "Please."
He released her nipple with a small pop, then looked up to find her regarding him with a look of want and need that mirrored his. His heart pounded harder in his chest. Fuck, he wanted this. He wanted to pull his hand away and thrust into her, but employed every ounce of his restraint to stay in place. "Are you sure?" he asked, slowing the movement of his fingers. "We can do this and wait for—"
Hermione reached into his pajama bottoms and wrapped her hand around his cock. "Fuck," he hissed.
She kissed his neck as she ran her fist up and down, causing him to pull his fingers out of her and slam his palms against the wall to keep from falling as his knees buckled. She let out a low chuckle, which was so fucking hot, that he almost finished right there in her hand. Damn, that would be embarrassing, but it had been months. Fuck, he needed to get her on the bed.
Her mind was in the same place. She kissed the spot under his ear, then pulled his earlobe between her teeth, eliciting a loan moan from the back of his throat. "Shall we move to the bed?"
He let out a strangled sort of groan that he would have been embarrassed about, had he not been completely consumed by Hermione. Her warm breath on his neck, the feeling of her hair tickling his cheek, the slick feeling of their sweaty bodies pressed together, her firm grip on his cock. She was here. He reveled in it, her obvious desire for him, and could think of little else.
Hermione placed a hand behind Harry's neck as she continued to caress him. He kissed her hungrily as he cupped her bum and walked them back to the bed. When his legs collided with the mattress, he turned them and gently pressed her back on the bed.
She shifted to the top of the bed as her eyes locked with his. Warmth pooled in her stomach. She would never tire of that look of raw adoration in his eyes. Like he couldn't believe his luck at getting to be with her. He'd picked her. The thought rang through her body. Even though he could have any witch he wanted, he'd picked her.
He was on her the next moment. She reached down and noticed he was finally naked. When had he removed the rest of his clothes? She'd missed that. She'd wanted to study him. Oh well, there'd be plenty of time for that later. She reached for his cock again and guided it toward her core.
Harry lifted on his hands and gave her a final questioning look. Once she nodded, he lowered down, his pace agonizingly slow.
"Bloody hell," he groaned once he was completely inside her.
They paused for a moment to watch each other. A knowing look passed between them. This was the end of their friendship as they knew it. But not in a bad way. It was the end of lying to themselves, of ignoring their feelings, of letting fear drive their actions. And it was the beginning of something so much better. The beginning of them.
Harry felt like he was back at Fall's End, diving off that cliff on his broom. It was terrifying. There was a chance he'd miss his mark and wouldn't exit the dive in time. But the ride was exhilarating so even if he didn't make it, maybe the jump was worth it.
He lifted slowly, until he was almost out of her, then pushed back into her, burying himself even deeper than before. She gasped and he almost apologized for thrusting so hard, until he noted the smile she was wearing.
He hoped she was close—he was pretty sure she was—because it would be a miracle if he lasted more than five seconds. She felt incredible. This was right, he could feel it in his core. The way they fit together, the way when his eyes met hers, he could see every emotion he was feeling reflected there, the way she clung to him just as desperately as he clung to her.
"I love you," she breathed in his ear.
Harry's heart swelled. He kissed her neck, then lifted up and began thrusting into her. She gripped his shoulders but as he moved a hand down and stroking her clit. She gasped again and reached up to tangle her hands in the sheets. Harry bent his head down, giving attention to her breasts and neck.
"Harry," she bit out between a string of incoherent moans. He quickened his thrusts as he rubbed her harder with his finger. She wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels in his back. She fell apart underneath him, finishing with a jolt and a muffled cry into his shoulder. He lifted so he could see her as he continued to push into her, smiling at the obvious look of pleasure on her face as she shuddered beneath him.
"Okay, okay," she said breathlessly, pulling his hand away from her overly-sensitive clit. She bit his shoulder and let out a small laugh. "Wow."
Harry lifted up and cupped her face in his hand, running his thumb along her cheek. She looked divine, her features smooth and calm while her skin was flushed. Her eyes were dark and her lips looked fuller than normal, begging to be kissed. So he did. He kissed her as he pushed into her again. She rocked her hips in time with his, gripping his bum firmly, and it wasn't long until he found his release, groaning into her mouth as he came.
He nearly collapsed onto her, but rolled onto his side instead, pulling her hard into his chest. "Holy shit," he said as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. "That was incredible. Did that really happen?"
She let out a laugh and placed a soft kiss on his chest. "Yes."
They lay there for several minutes, breathing heavily. Hermione shifted slightly and Harry just tightened his grip on her, worried if he let her go, she'd leave and this whole thing would be erased.
"We should get cleaned off," she whispered.
"No," Harry protested, giving her neck a playful bite.
She squirmed in his grasp. "We're sweaty and gross and I need to use the loo. Can you please let go of me?"
Harry reluctantly released his grip on her. "Promise to come back?"
She pulled herself to a sitting position, then gave him a breathtaking smile, one he was sure he'd never forget. "I'm not going anywhere."
When Harry awoke several hours later, he thought for a bizarre moment that he was back in the other world, in the bedroom he'd shared with Hermione. That was the only explanation for her being here, in bed with him, in his arms. She was lying on her side, facing away from him and he had an arm wrapped around her waist. But something was off. She was naked. The sheet had gathered at her waist and he could see the skin of her exposed back. He looked down. Shit. He was naked.
Then, the events of the night before came flooding back to him. Bloody hell. That had actually happened. He'd had sex with Hermione, hadn't he? The fact that she was here, lying naked in his bed, was proof enough.
He shifted closer to her, being careful not to move the arm around her waist. He listened to her steady breathing as he marveled at the elegant curve of her neck. He wanted to memorize it. He wanted to memorize every contour of her body, every freckle, every scar. And now, he was finally going to get the chance.
He spotted a small freckle at the base of her neck and placed a soft kiss there. She let out a quiet moan. He wanted to kiss her again, but was afraid of waking her up. It was too late for that, however. Hermione gripped the hand that was resting on her belly, then turned and gave him a sleepy smile. "Hi."
He kissed her cheek. "I didn't mean to wake you," he murmured, his voice still rough from sleep.
"S'kay," she sighed, letting her eyes fall closed again. After a few moments, she turned her head to face him, then placed a hand on his cheek. "I love you."
He turned his head and kissed the inside of her palm. "I love you too."
"That reminds me. I had a whole list of reasons I loved you. But you cut me off."
Harry laid back on his pillow and pulled her into his arms. "Why don't you tell me now?"
She nodded into his chest as she wrapped an arm around his torso. "Okay," she said, still sounding tired. "I love how you are with Teddy. I love all the shades of green in your eyes. I love how you commit to things so fully, especially when that thing is me." She paused as she tried to remember the rest of her list.
"I love having sex with you," she continued, "even if you are a bit of a tease."
Harry smiled down at her. "That was on your list?"
She smiled against his skin. "It is now."
He laughed and she felt it rumble in his chest. He began playing with her hair, which had mostly fallen out of her bun. "You knew back in Norway?"
She nodded.
"And you said you told me when I was asleep?"
"Yes. Then I told Lily. So she knew before we left. They both did. James talked to me about it when we danced together."
She lifted her head and saw his eyes sparkling with tears in the low light of the moon coming through the curtains. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Thank you for telling them."
"I thought you'd want them to know."
Harry tightened his grip on her. She knew him so well. He couldn't fathom it. Was this really happening? Was she really his?
She began tracing patterns across his stomach as they lay there, each lost in their thoughts. "That feels incredible," he sighed, closing his eyes.
She simply hummed.
"So is that all the secrets?" he asked next.
She traced a few more patterns on his skin before answering. "I have another. Or well, not a secret. Just a discovery. I figured out why we ended up in that other world."
Harry lifted up to look at her. "Is that why you had the Deluminator?"
"Yeah."
She explained what she'd figured out back in her flat about how her happiness was tied to Harry's, and how the realization had finally pushed her to set her fears aside and confront her feelings for him, leading her here.
He reached out for her, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. "That goes both ways. My happiness is completely entwined with yours."
She smiled.
Harry grabbed her chin and tilted her face up, then placed a firm kiss on her lips. "That other world was incredible, and I miss my parents every day, but this one isn't so bad. We can be happy here, don't you think?"
She shifted so she was lying on her side again, facing him. "I think so," she said softly. "I hope so. As long as we stay together."
Harry could hear a hint of nervousness in her voice. "Absolutely," he said, moving so he was on top of her, pressing her into the mattress. "You're stuck with me now."
She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her fingers into his thick hair. "That better be a promise," she said before pulling him down into a kiss.
"It is," he said against her mouth. They kissed for several moments until Harry's earlier grogginess was completely gone, replaced by a racing heart and that familiar heat pooling in his stomach.
"Shall we sleep?" Hermione asked, her warm breath tickling his cheek.
"Probably," he replied, rolling off of her, then pulling her so her back was against his chest. He pushed her hair out of the way and began peppering kisses along her neck. Her breath was coming out in small pants, which encouraged him to feather his hand down her side, then between her legs.
When she didn't push him away, he slipped a finger inside her. She was warm and wet. Harry grinned against her neck. "Can I convince you to take the day off work tomorrow?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "We could sleep for as long as we want, which would give us time now to … not sleep."
She wiggled her bum against his cock, which was already half-hard. "My new job doesn't start until Monday. So tomorrow, I'm all yours."
"You're only mine tomorrow?" he asked before nibbling on her earlobe.
"No." She bit her lip to stifle a groan as he started sucking on her neck. "Every day, always, forever."
He turned her head and kissed her hard on the mouth. "That better be a promise."
"It is."
