Title: Original
Author: Jori
e-mail: jori@netroenterprises.com
pairing: H/Hr
Spoilers: possibly all books
Summary: Harry worries that his Christmas present for Hermione isn't original enough. Set years after their time at
Hogwarts. NC-17
Author's Notes: A short, fluffy smut fic for Christmas 2003. Totally PWP. These are the kind of stories that happen when Liss asks for drabbles. It got a little longer than a drabble but it still has no plot!
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"It's not very original," Harry says as he hands me my Christmas present. His eyes are cast down as if he's embarrassed or nervous about something and I hope it's not about his choice of gifts. I can tell by the weight and size of it that it's a book and I quickly unwrap it, my fingers running over the leather binding and dancing over the gold letters on its spine. "I know you've been looking for that book for years and I found it when you and I were in Rome. I had to buy it while you weren't looking and then sneak it home."
"I love it! I love all of my books more than you can imagine," I say, leaning in to give him a thank you kiss.
Our small Christmas tree is in the room that I consider to be my library and is surrounded by shelf after shelf of my books. There is one special shelf where I keep all the books Harry has given me over the years and I never lend those out to anyone nor do I allow them to leave the house. As soon as I'm finished reading this one, I will magically expand the shelf just enough for it to fit next to the others.
Ever since we were children, Harry has always given me a book for either Christmas or my birthday or both. As we grew older (and considerably closer), he began to worry about it not being original but he doesn't know how very special each one is to me. Now that we're living together, he'll even bring home a rare book that he finds when he's away and they also get a place of honor on the shelf. In the time we were apart while he was off fighting the war, he'd always make sure to send me a book with a handwritten note on the endsheet telling me how much he loved me and how he couldn't wait to see me again. Sometimes when he is asleep or busy elsewhere in the house, I still pull those books off the shelf and read his words and they still bring me to tears. When he is away for an extended period of time, I often put those books on my bedside table so I can feel him closer to me.
"Open it," he urges, pulling me from my thoughts. "I wrote you a note."
I look into his eyes before opening the book. He hasn't written a note in a book for me since he returned home and I never asked why. I thought maybe he didn't want to be reminded of our time apart.
My eyes skim over his words and I can tell by his script that his hand was shaking as he wrote it just like I could tell his hand had been shaking when he wrote me those notes from the front during the war.
I wanted this year to be different, Hermione, because I love you that much and never want to be apart from you again. I always get you a book but I wanted to do more for you this Christmas. Please, Hermione, will you marry me?
Tears spring to my eyes immediately and I struggle hard to blink them away.
"What?" I ask, looking up from the book for confirmation to find Harry holding out a ring for me. It sparkles in the light from the live fairies and their fairy dust decorating the Christmas tree but I don't look at it for long. Instead, I look into his emerald eyes, waiting for him to say something.
"Will you marry me, Hermione?" he asks and laughter now bubbles up past my tears.
"Yes!" I say, casting the book aside and practically pouncing on him. He falls backward, the ring still in his hand.
"I was hoping to do something more than just a book this year," he says as I straddle him, wanting nothing more than to kiss him long and hard. "Here, would you like to put it on?"
I hold out my hand to him and he slips the ring on my finger and I don't know whether it's by magic or the fact that Harry knows my ring size, it fits perfectly.
"Now can I kiss you?" I ask.
"You can do whatever you would like to me," he says, a rather cheeky grin on his face.
"Oh, I intend to, Mr. Potter," I say, slowly grinding against him. I feel him grow hard through his pajama bottoms and his eyelids flutter shut.
"That feels good, Mrs. Potter," he says with a content moan and I stop moving.
"Maybe Granger-Potter," I say and he opens one eye and stares up at me.
"You or me?" he asks and I laugh.
"You want to be Granger-Potter?"
"It could always be Potter-Granger," he says thoughtfully.
"Or I could just be Hermione Potter," I say, thinking it over. "I think that sounds rather lovely."
"So do I," he says, bucking his hips up against me. I lean forward and get the kiss I wanted, his tongue darting past my lips and into my mouth, desperate for more of me. My hair falls around my face and his, and he reaches behind my head and gathers it up in his hand, holding my curls so they don't get in the way of what we're doing to each other.
A hot, needy ache settles in my lower abdomen and I brush against him with more fervor than before, wishing the fabric between us would just vanish. Actually, I don't have to wish. I'm a witch. I can have what I want. I pull away from him, my hair slipping out of his grasp as I reach for the robe I had on earlier, quickly finding my wand tucked away in a pocket. With a simple charm that I know by heart, we are both naked, our clothing beside us on the floor.
"You are so very clever," Harry says, his eyes narrowing in on my breasts. The lights from the tree now cast a glimmer against his skin and mine, creating a little light show. With a finger, he tries to keep up with a gleam of light as it moves across my chest but he stops as soon as that finger lands on one my nipples. I watch what he's doing, enthralled by the lights and by him.
"You would have thought of it eventually," I say, easing back until I feel his erection brush up against my clit. That combined with his fingers now caressing my breasts is enough to make me moan in pleasure and enough to make him beg.
"Please, Hermione. I want you," he says and that brings a smile to my face.
"I already figured that out with your gift," I say, not letting him get out of our foreplay this time.
"I meant, I want to make love to you now. Right now," he says and I almost give in but this feels too good. He wraps his hands around my waist, trying to guide me but I'm not ready just yet. I want to be closer to the edge...
It's not long and I need to have him inside of me. I move just right, allowing him entrance, and with that he sighs out in relief. "Thank you," he says breathlessly and I lean forward and give him a quick kiss on his forehead.
"You're welcome," I whisper before sitting upright, my hands ending up behind me on his thighs. I move up and down, nearly letting him slip out before taking him all the way back in. He reaches out with one finger and brushes it across my lips and then down to my breasts before he trails it lower over my stomach to my clit. I gasp at the sensation of him filling me and touching me and the way he's staring at me right now with those eyes of his. Soon, I'm going to be his wife and that thought alone sends a rush of raw arousal through me.
"I love watching you come," he says, completely breathless now.
"I love it when you make me come," I say, feeling that little tug starting deep inside, trying to get out. He presses firmer and faster against my clit and I let him thrust into me as hard as he can while I roll my hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. He says my name and that's all it takes to push me over the edge, sending me free falling. I ride out wave after wave pleasure and am only brought back to reality when I feel him grasp my hands, his fingers entwined with mine. The ring... his ring... is pressing into my flesh and I look at our hands.
"Hermione," he says again, desperation in his tone, and I start to move once more. I can tell he's close and I clench all my muscles around him, watching him as he falls into the place from which I just returned. He cries out my name loudly this time, his hands squeezing mine even tighter as he comes inside of me.
Soon, I fall down next to him, Harry struggling to catch his breath as I continue to hold his hands. After reaching for a blanket and covering us up, he pulls me into his arms and holds my hand with the ring up in front of the tree. Everything sparkles before my eyes and the tears forming once more don't help matters any.
"Are you happy with more than just a book this year?" Harry asks, sounding rather worried as I wipe away the tears.
"Oh, yes," I say, rolling over so I can look at him. I brush away the now sweaty hair from his forehead and kiss him there again. "I love books -- you know that. But books are my second love while you are my first love, Harry Potter. Don't you ever forget that for as long as we're together."
"I don't think I ever will," he says, pulling me into his warm embrace again, both of us settling down to enjoy what might be the best Christmas ever.
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The End
End Notes: Wow -- that was as sugary as a candy cane! Hope you enjoyed! Happy Holidays to all!