Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. This is going to be one of those smutty chapters, and Harry will turn dark for a couple of chapters. You have been warned. :)
CHAPTER FOUR:
"Harry, got a second? Hermione and I want to talk ..."
The pair stopped as soon as they came through the open door of the bedroom. The sight that greeted them was totally unexpected. Their friend was fully dressed for travel, down to his robes. He had a bag open on the bed, and was packing his clothes.
Hermione looked alarmed. "Harry? This isn't because ..." When they'd met up right before dinner, there hadn't been time to talk, but each had apologized to the other for overreacting.
The focus of their attention barely spared them a glance. "No, I just don't feel up to attending the wedding anymore. I told your parents and Bill after dinner," he informed Ron.
"Where are you going?" Ron asked.
"Grimmauld Place, for now. There are a few books I want to look up in Sirius' library. Now that I think about it, some of them might help to pinpoint the horcruxes."
That seemed to alarm his friends even more. "You're going alone?" Ron spoke up again. "Isn't that dangerous?"
Harry shook his head. "Lupin and the others warded the entire house a few days ago. Nobody can apparate or even floo in without being cleared first. It's probably the safest place for me right now. Besides, I'm not going to be alone for long. Lupin will come once he's through finding out about that potion. Hopefully I'll have some information for him by then."
"Have you found something?" Hermione asked, her curiosity piqued.
"I'm not sure," he said evasively. "I just remember reading something before, when we first stayed at Grimmauld, but I didn't know about the horcruxes then so I didn't pay it much attention. The problem is, I don't remember which book it is."
"Oh well, Hermione knows the books in Grimmauld," Ron volunteered. "She spent ages in the library when Sirius - I mean ..."
"There were a lot of historical tomes and biographies," Hermione quickly covered the mention of Harry's dead godfather. "You're right, some of them might mention where the Hogwarts founders' things are."
Harry studiously kept his eyes on the bag he was stuffing. It was now or never. "Actually, I was wondering if you'd like to help me look? You've always been great with books. And to tell you the truth, I'm not looking forward to staying at that big awful house by myself, with just Kreacher and those miserable portraits for company. You too, Ron."
The redhead looked miserable. "I can't. I promised my mum I'd stay at least till the day after to help them clean up."
Harry already knew that, of course. Actually, he was counting on it. But for appearance's sake, he snapped his bag closed in an eloquent display of disappointment. "I understand. See you guys in a few days then."
And just as he knew, or hoped she would, Hermione stepped forward. "Wait, Harry. Ron can't, but there's no reason why I can't go ahead and join you. I can floo in right after Bill and Fleur's wedding."
The dark-haired teenager assumed a doubtful expression. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to take you away from the wedding just to look at some books."
"It's alright." She glanced at Ron, who swallowed his disappointment and nodded. "I can pack before the wedding, change my clothes after and go. I should arrive by suppertime."
Harry didn't miss the look his friends had exchanged. Obviously they had made plans for the reception. Now he was doubly glad he'd decided to do this. Not only would he not have to spend the whole night ogling them enviously, he'd stolen their night together. He still had a chance, and he'd make the most of it!
This time the smile he showed them was genuine. "That'd be great! I'll see you then. You guys have a great time tomorrow." He hefted his bag and prepared to leave.
Ron blocked his way. "You sure about this, mate? It's not too late to change your mind. Why don't you stay for a bit? You know my family would love it if you came. You can always leave early if it gets too much."
For the rest of his days, Harry would wonder what would've happened if he'd taken Ron up on his earnest offer. The friend he had been up to that point would have. It was at that moment that the he began to suspect that things weren't quite right with him. That attack - what did it do to me? But the moment he tried to think, it was as if a great cloud descended on his mind. Everything was fuzzy.
Then he looked at his friends, and a clear image sprang into his mind of him kissing Hermione as Ron had done earlier, and the moment passed. "I'm sorry, I have to do this." The apology was heartfelt, too.
In the future, the trio would remember this as the last, uncomplicated moment of their friendship. The apology would also be the last time Harry spoke to both Ron and Hermione before he completely messed up their lives.
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That night, the Boy Who Lived tossed and turned in his bed in Grimmauld Place. Harry had felt so tired from the events of the last few days that he hadn't even changed clothes. He just tossed his cloak and bags on the floor and collapsed on the bed ...
In the middle of the night, he woke to someone shaking his arm. "Alright, what's wrong?" It was Hermione, in sweater and jeans, looming over him. "You've been in a bad mood all week. You've been avoiding us, and now you're holed up here."
"You followed me here to ask that?" he asked disbelievingly. "For pity's sake, Herm, it's the middle of the night! Just leave it alone."
"I won't! I've been trying to figure it out and I couldn't sleep and I've been so worried - hmph!"
Harry took advantage of the girl's surprise and quickly wrapped his arms around her. He sank down on the bed without breaking the kiss, taking her with him so that her body was trapped on top of his. She struggled, but he was holding her tightly, and she only succeeded in squirming against him. He began to stiffen as the constant movement mashed her breasts up and down against his chest. He knew the second Hermione felt him because she abruptly stopped moving.
Harry broke the kiss, short of breath. "Tell me why you're here," he asked huskily.
"I was ... worried," she stammered.
"So worried you had to floo in alone in the middle of the night?" he mocked her lightly. His green eyes were penetrating. "Does Ron know you're here?"
He saw a flash of guilt in her eyes. "No. I didn't want to bother anybody. I just wanted to talk to you."
"That's not the entire truth, Hermione, and we both know it."
"What truth? I - Harry!" she exclaimed, as he bent his knee between her legs and raised his muscular, trouser-clad thigh until it was resting against the crotch of her jeans. Experimentally, he moved his thigh against her.
"You want this." Even to his own ears his voice was hoarse. With his arms he held her down a bit so that his thigh could press more tightly against her center. Using his strength he began to push her down at the same time he moved his leg, rhythmically grinding her against his thigh. He watched in satisfaction as Hermione's mouth opened in a silent "oh!"
"You want ME. Say it, Hermione." But she stayed stubbornly silent, her face flushed and her eyes screwed shut. "All these years and you never thought about what it would be like between us? Not once?" He knew she must have. They were hormonal teenagers, and what with the Daily Prophet and half the people at school at one time or another calling them an item, the thought must've crossed her mind. "I have. Often."
While she was pondering the significance of his admission, he stretched and kissed her again. It wasn't long before he was running his tongue across the seam of her lips, seeking entrance. When she didn't respond, he nipped her lower lip with his teeth.
She gasped in surprise and that was his chance. Thrusting his tongue into her mouth, Harry rolled until she was pinned beneath him. Hermione's eyes shot open as the movement brought his hardness against her stomach. Then he was sliding down until he was between her jeans-clad legs and his erection was touching her crotch.
Harry plundered her mouth, exploring every nook and cranny. Now that his weight was helping to hold her down, he was able to snake one hand free and between them. Before Hermione realized what was happening, he had lifted her shirt until it was bunched up above her chest.
"Fantastic," she heard him groan as he gazed at her half-nakedness. She cursed herself for being in such a tearing hurry that she hadn't even put a bra on before she left the Burrow.
Then all thought flew from her head as his mouth lowered to taste her breasts. "H-Harry!" she stuttered as he kissed and licked her every inch of her breasts. Only after this exploration was finished did he begin to suck one nipple and then the other.
He could only use his mouth. His hands were gripping her wrists now and he brought them up so that her breasts sprang towards his eager lips even more. He was sucking so hard that she felt part of her breast slip into his mouth. He lapped at it eagerly, his tongue circling her nipples, and then flicking over them in fast, tight movements that had her arching off the bed.
Hermione came back to her senses only when his hands released hers so they could unbutton and unzip her jeans. This time her hands gripped his.
"I just want to touch you, Hermione," he said soothingly. He parted the opening of her jeans as wide as it would go, revealing white silky knickers. He stared in fascination. Her knickers were translucent and he could see the outline of a dark triangle beneath.
Curiously, he trailed one finger in a straight line over the center of that triangle.
The girl beneath him sucked in her breath. At the same time she tried to pull his hand away. "Stop, I can't. I'm, I'm with Ron now."
Though Hermione didn't know it, it was the worst thing that she could've said. At the mention of his best friend's name, the large and scaly monster slumbering in Harry's gut sprang to life again. It wanted, demanded, that Harry put a stop to this nonsense. It mocked him - what, thought you were doing so well? But she hasn't forgotten him, has she? You have her arching off the bed but all she can do is think of him. Pathetic.
The raven-haired wizard shook her hands off and lifted himself up until he was half-kneeling between her legs. He regarded her silently, taking in every inch of the girl spread out before him. Flushed face. Lips swollen from his kisses. Marks beginning to form on her breasts from where he had been so rough. Nipples dark and distended from his suckling. Her knickers, and that intriguing patch of dark underneath.
By the time the boy's gaze came back to her face, Hermione was blushing with embarrassment. She crossed her arms in front of her and covered as much of herself with them as she could. Then her eyes went wide as Harry took off his shirt and threw it on the floor.
"You say it's Ron you want," he said through clenched teeth as he undid the buttons on his trousers, "but for some reason" - his green eyes flicked over her half-naked form once more - "I'm having a hard time believing you."
"It's the truth!" she insisted.
"Then prove it."
"What? How?"
Instead of answering her, he grasped one of her hands and brought it palm-up to his chest. However much she pulled he just held it there.
When her efforts to free her hand subsided a little, he asked in a unexpectedly gentle voice, "Do you trust me, Hermione?"
At any other time she would've said yes immediately, and it surprised Harry how much it hurt when she hesitated and eventually answered, "Right now, I - I don't know."
He closed his eyes briefly. "I guess I deserve that." When he looked at her again, he said softly, "Before this goes any further, you should know that I love you. Yeah," he affirmed as she stared at him in disbelief, "I've been such a git, trying to deny it all these years."
She considered him for what felt like a long time. "What ... what do you want?"
Harry released a breath he hadn't been aware of holding. "Touch me. Anywhere you like," he said in a low voice.
She swallowed, obviously nervous. "That's it?"
"No, I want to touch you. Wait," he interrupted because she was about to protest. "I'm not going to take anything else off, and I'll only use my hands and mouth." In a fit of inspiration he added, "Those rules don't apply to you. You can do whatever you like, so long as you keep one of your hands on me during the whole time."
She bit her lip. "That's it?"
He saw how close she was to acceding. "Five minutes, `Mione. If you want me to, in five minutes I'll stop. You can go, and we'll never tell a soul."
"And if I - you, er," for the first time in ages, Hermione was at a loss for words, "that is, if you ... win?"
Just having her say it made his heart pound faster. He was so close, so near to what he had wanted for years. He dropped his hand so that it was no longer imprisoning hers. "You tell me."
She breathed uncertainly. "Al-alright."
At any other time, Harry would've started by kissing her again. He badly wanted to. But with so much at stake and so little time, he went straight for that he thought would be his best bet.
Hermione squirmed as Harry touched her through her knickers. He used his thumb explore her slit until he found the nub at her center. Slowly, he ran circles over her clit. Every now and then he would brush directly over her nub.
It was starting to affect her, he saw. Hermione was straining with the effort not to move to the motions of his hand, but her legs had opened imperceptibly wider. Harry smiled when he saw this. Time for the next move.
Leaning forward, he snaked his other hand towards her breast. At first he just ran the calloused surface of his palm over her nipples. When they were nice and pointed again, he started flicking them with his fingers.
Up to this point, Hermione had kept her end of the bargain by keeping her palm flat where he had left it on his chest. But a few seconds after Harry started touching both breast and clit, her palm curled into a loose fist. With the back of her hand and fingers, she began to trace the surface of the raven-haired boy's chest. She seemed pleased at his sudden indrawn breath.
"Hermione," he groaned when her fingers brushed over a nipple.
Encouraged, Harry did a daring thing. He moved from his relatively secure place between her legs and knelt by her side. He smiled at the girl who looked up at him in confusion.
Then she threw her head back as he took one nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue and sucking on it greedily. At the same moment, Harry slipped his fingers into the opening of her jeans and into her knickers.
Hermione bucked against his hand as his fingers burrowed into her wet curls. He slid around a bit before finding her clit once more. With his bare fingers this time he circled it. Then he got a wicked idea.
The girl shuddered as Harry began running his tongue around her nipple at the same pace his fingers were circling her clit. The slow matching movements were driving her mad. Unconsciously, her palm flattened against his chest and began slipping down until it was resting at the slack waist of his open trousers.
She was so close. Harry couldn't resist. With his free hand, he guided her hand from the waist of his trousers to its unzipped crotch. For a second, Hermione just let her hand rest there, a teasing, warm presence near his arousal.
Harry groaned. "Hermione ... please."
She froze, and for an agonizing moment he thought she would pull away. Then he felt her lightly trace his arousal through his boxers, running her knuckles along his hard length. He felt her tug down at the waistband of his boxers at the same time he crooked and slipped his middle finger into her, making her jerk.
From then on it was a different kind of contest, each trying to see who could bring the other off first. Harry suckled on her nipples hungrily while his finger dove in and out of her. Soon he was finger fucking her as fast as he possibly could.
Hermione's hand ran up and down his length, smearing his pre-cum all along his shaft. When he was slick enough for her to speed up, she began running a thumb over the head each time she reached it.
They were panting for breath, their movements faster and more erratic with each passing moment.
The boy felt the muscles in his belly clench, and as much as he tried to stop it, he lost the struggle when he heard her whisper, "I want you, Harry. I want to see you come ..."
... He woke crying out his release. Only then did Harry realize that he had been dreaming. His cock was still twitching and spilling in his trousers. He lay there for a minute until the sensations faded, till there was only the sticky mess in his crotch to remind him of what had just happened. Finally he sat up and buried his head in his hands.
'It was just a dream,' he thought brokenly, 'another DAMNED, GROTTY dream!' Only this one was the worst yet. It had seemed so real. Hermione's hands touching him ... it made him hate waking up.
What the blazes is wrong with me? Harry felt like he was going stark raving mad. Was he really going to push through with this plan? Was he going to do something like that to one of his best friends, who'd been through every imaginable danger with him for the last six years?
If he did this, it would be a betrayal of the worst possible sort. And he would be betraying not only Hermione, but Ron too.
But Merlin, he wanted her! He only had to close his eyes for a minute, and she would be there, writhing beneath him, wanton and starkers and more than willing.
Maybe it won't work. Maybe things'll change and they'll get here together. Or Hermione won't make it. Or she'll sense something and leave before I do anything stupid.
But Harry knew this was all wishful thinking. In the end, it would be in his hands. And if Hermione came alone, he knew he wouldn't be able to resist.