Vox Corporis: Rebirth

Vox Corporis: Rebirth

Chapter 83

“Matched Pair”



Original story by -> MissAnnThropic

http://fanfiction.portkey.org/story/6586/1

Email: miss_annthropic@yahoo.com



Pursuant to the Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital Millennium Copywrite Act of 1998, this work is copywrited 2007 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion without the express written and notarized permission of the author.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted.



CONTENT Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. If you are offended by stories featuring group sex, bisexual situations, incest, or any other situation, please check the story code before reading the text. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein



In Gratia: The original story was created so beautifully and so powerfully by MissAnnThropic. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to her for her kindness in letting me ‘play in her sandbox’.



I want to thank all those who reviewed my last chapter. I appreciate every one of you. It is meaningful to me, as a writer, to hear from at least some of you, so that I know whether I am going down a track with my story that is appreciated .



Editor’s note: I have borrowed a story idea (below) from the story Forever Together, Part 1. Hermione\'s Tear, Chpt. 3 “The Birthday Present” http://fanfiction.portkey.org/story/4369/3



I want to thank Solomon Aegis < bookofmonsters@aol.com> for letting me use his idea. If you have not read his story, DO IT. It’s awesome and I really love it.



WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS RATED NC – 17 / XXX. IF YOU ARE NOT 18 – BEAT IT. YOU DON’T BELONG HERE.

From Chapter 82 – “Tying the Knot”

-----------------------------------------------



“Hermione, Harry. My last lesson to you both is from the New Testament; 1st Corinthians, Chapter thirteen:

Love is patient; love is kind and envies no one.

Love is never boastful, nor conceited, nor rude;

Never selfish, nor quick to give offense.

Love keeps no score of wrongs;

nor gloats over other people’s mistakes,

but it delights in the truth.

There is nothing love cannot face;

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things.

There is no limit to its faith, its hope; and its endurance.

Love will never end.



Now, Hermione, Harry. Go out into the world as man and wife. Be for each other and remember this blessing from the Native American nations.



Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter for the other;

Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other;

Now there is no more loneliness, for each of you will be companion to the other;

Now there are two bodies; but there is only one life before you;

Go now to your dwelling and enter into the days of your life together, and may your days be good and long upon the earth.



Harry, Hermione, by the power vested in me by the Holy Anglican Church and by the Government of the United Kingdom and Great Britain, it is my joy to pronounce you husband and wife. “



“Harry, you may kiss your bride”.



Hermione could no longer contain her tears of joys. She melted into Harry’s arms as he cupped her face and kissed her soundly. As Harry kissed her, the congregation came to its feet as one and cheered.

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Chapter 83 -- “Matched Pair”



He looked at her and she understood the smile that pulled at his mouth and twinkled in his eyes. “We’ve survived, Minnie. They’ve survived.”



Hogwarts’ soon-to-be Headmistress looked at her friend and mentor lovingly. “I know Albus, I know. “



Only she and a very small handful of others knew just how close a thing it had been and how much Harry and Hermiones’ survival had weighed on the Headmaster. Among the handful, only Minerva McGonagall knew everything – which showed her just how much she was trusted by the Headmaster and how much her council meant to him.



As Harry and Hermione broke their kiss and came up for air, another burst of applause swept through the crowd. Minerva McGonagall could not help but cheer loudly with the rest.



She weren’t the only one who was celebrating. All around, the sixth- and seventh-year students clapped and cheered. Luna was openly hugging Ron while Ginny and Neville were embracing each other. Dean Thomas, with whom Ginny had had a relationship from the end of their fourth and into the middle of their fifth year, was standing next to his new girlfriend, Michelle Sullivan and clapping as loudly as the rest.



As the recessional music began – the Ode to Joy from the Choral from Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony – Harry took Hermione into his arms and both crying with joy and yet laughing with the pure relief of it all, they and the rest of the marital party, including Rowena, Remus, Jake, Miranda, Berti, Ginny, Neville, Ron, and Luna, swept down the center aisle, towards the doors and out, into the still-bright sunshine and fresh air of the early evening.

*******************************

The crowd gathered outside the church as the carriage drew near. Hermione’s parents had taken the opportunity to hug her and congratulate her, while Harry was being hugged and congratulated by Mr. Weasley, Ginny, all of her brothers, and finally, Minerva McGonagall and the Headmaster.



After helping Hermione climb into the horse-drawn carriage which had brought her to the church, the new couple sat back and shared kisses as they were carried away to the celebration that awaited them both.



As the carriage began to move, her eyes started to follow his as he caught sight of more than a dozen Aurors in barely concealed dragon-hide armor, with their wands clearly visible, who had taken stations around the front of the church. Fortunately, another kiss was more than enough distraction for her and they were away and gone before she realized that they and everyone in attendance at the church had been guarded by the Ministry for Magics’ most elite troops. Somehow, it spooked Harry more than a little bit – as he had no idea who had procured their services. Harry made a mental note to ask Dumbledore about it, when they eventually returned to school.

*******************************

“I wish Colin were here”. Harry thought to Hermione, as they posed for yet another series of muggle pictures. Colin had always known how to get the best out of them for pictures, even when they didn’t want their pictures taken. He had even taken pictures of them together in the hospital, just before the two of them were released.



“I know, Harry, I know. I feel the same way. He was a great friend.”



Hermione looked at Harry in tremendous sympathy as she felt the wave of his sadness over Colin’s death wash over her. “I miss him too, Harry. He knew….he knew the risks that night. I think he died knowing that he had done something you were proud of and that’s all he could have asked. He wanted to be like you.”



Harry struggled to maintain an outwards smile as his insides threatened to dissolve in bitter tears. Every loss haunted Harry and Colin’s somehow more so than many of the others.



“You didn’t kill him, Harry. Tom did. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it. Colin knew the moment that he tried to defend her that he might be killed. Don’t forget that he bought us time and he saved Lily. I think he would have said that was a good trade.”



Harry knew better than to argue. Hermione was right and he knew it. More, he knew that it was their wedding night and he had to let it go. Too many people wanted to see him smiling and it was important that he show them that he did, really, appreciate the lavish party for which so many had contributed time, energy and resources to make happen.



Eventually, the picture-taking was done; Harry and Hermione held hands and walked towards the reception hall. As they walked, Harry looked at her. Her every move was graceful, he thought. She moved as if she was floating.



You look beautiful, Hermione. I can’t even tell you how much so. You’re the most beautiful woman here.



There was no shame, Hermione thought, in showing Harry just how much his pride and love for her meant, so she stopped; pulled him close, and kissed him thoroughly.



Tonight, Harry, tonight. You’re finally mine.



“Hermione, I’ve always been yours,” Harry thought to her, as they started to float inches above the ground.



Rowena Granger was watching them from the shadows of the portico of the reception hall, with Minerva McGonagall by her side. A golden glow had formed around Harry and Hermione and was plainly visible to anyone who was magical. Really, it was unmistakable, because it was so strong and so obvious. Rowena leaned her head close to the Deputy Headmistresses’ and said, “Do they always glow like that?”



McGonagall chuckled wryly; which was all the answer Rowena needed.



“It’s going to be a very interesting year, Rowena. We’re going to have to run another clinic on reproductive biology and conception magic pretty soon, I think, if those two are any indication.”



The two women heard soft footfalls behind them and turned to see Albus Dumbledore smiling at them and looking out at the newly-married couple. Minerva looked at him and then did something that left Rowena all but speechless. She leaned towards the Headmaster and kissed him softly and unhesitantly.



Once they had broken the kiss, McGonagall turned to catch Rowena’s dumbfounded expression. She was grinning like a Cheshire cat.



“I don’t suppose I’m allowed to say anything to anyone about that, am I?”



The Headmasters’ eyes were twinkling furiously and the deputy Headmistress, so famous for her calm, if severe, elegance took on an impish grin and said to her friend “Oh hush, you. And no, you’re not allowed to say anything. Go get your own.”



Rowena ‘hurummmph’ed and looked at the two. Then she looked back at Harry and Hermione and saw, much to her amazement, that they were not only glowing, but literally floating above the ground as they kissed.



She had seen many, many couples kissing over the years, and remembered the fiery, passionate sting of her departed husbands’ kisses, but had never, ever heard of a witch and wizard floating while kissing. It was, perhaps, one of the most amazing displays of incidental or ambient magic, that she had ever seen from a student and bested only by the Headmaster himself when she was a young girl attending Hogwarts.



It was not good, though, that they were doing magic where they could so easily be seen by muggles out for a bit of fresh air, so Rowena stepped out of the shadows and walked quickly and quietly over to where Hermione and Harry were floating; lost in their love for each other.



Rowena looked at them; waiting for them to notice her presence. Finally, after another minutes’ worth of kissing, she cleared her throat in what she hoped would be a very delicate and lady-like manor, so that their trance would be broken.



Unfortunately, Rowena’s attempt at a dignified, lady-like cough came out sounding like that of a particularly detestable Ministry employee with whom Harry had had the great misfortune to cross paths in his third year. It was enough to break Harry’s focus – which caused both him and Hermione to settle back down onto the grass and the golden glow around them to dissipate.



“C’mon you two. You’ve been floating and kissing for the better part of the last twenty minutes. Everyone else is inside, waiting for the two of you to arrive ‘officially’, so you can be introduced together for the first time.”



Hermione was blushing at her grandmothers’ admonishment, even though it was done with love, while Harry was simply smiling at his wife and holding her close; oblivious to everything around them.



“Ready, my love?” Harry thought to her.



“I guess. I just want to leave right now and go home. I want…..”



Harry knew what she wanted. He wanted the same thing, and for the same reasons. They had waited long enough and it was their time.



They both knew that it was expected of them to attend the reception and to make the rounds; greeting as many of their well-wishers and friends as they could. It would also have been a slap at Miranda and Jake not to attend and would have set relations back with them significantly. Both knew that family ties had to be supported and nurtured if they were to last, so they acquiesced and prepared for the inevitable wave of cheers and encouragements to kiss on que, along with the other foolishness that came with wedding receptions.



Once they were at the inner doors of the reception hall, Ron spotted them and rushed over to their side, so that they could be properly announced. Harry could think of no one else that he’d rather have do that particular honor, so he and Hermione stood back and let Ron gather the crowds’ attention.



One thing that watching Harry had taught Ron was how to command a room. It was something that Harry did naturally, but everyone else had to work at. Harry used a distinct combination of passion, magical energy, confidence, and an absolute belief in what he was doing to get peoples’ attention. Ron did not have, nor would ever have, Harry’s magical power. He knew it wasn’t even a close thing. He just didn’t have it and wishing it were so was never going to change reality. However, Ron had two things that Harry would never have: height – Ron was closing in on 6’3 and had filled out significantly since they had all left St. Mungo’s; such that he had physical power that Harry could not match – and he had developed a bass-baritone voice that shocked everyone. That gave him a charisma that Harry would always secretly envy. He was very definitely no longer the scared fourth-year boy who had crossed wands with Harry.



“Ladies and gentlemen!” Ron’s voice boomed; even over the jazz band that was playing in the corner of the hall.



At his words, the hall started to settle down, as eyes began to focus on him. His smile was enormous as he held out his arms to draw Harry and Hermione to him. “It is my incredible pleasure to introduce to you all, for the very first time, my best friends, Harry James Potter and his new bride, Hermione Jane Potter!”



An incredible cheer went up and the applause was as loud, Harry thought, as the day they entered the Great Hall for the first time as Head Boy and Girl. There was a palpable sense of happiness for them both and that happiness was reflected most dramatically in Miranda and Jakes’ faces.



“I love you, Hermione.” Harry said, as a loving caress in her mind.



Hermione turned to her new husband, and just as she had outside, pulled herself up onto her tiptoes, to kiss him soundly. The kiss inspired a whole new wave of applause and not a few couples imitating them; especially among the seventh year Hogwarts students.



“Have to remember to control our magic,” she thought at him, impishly.



“Only for a little while, ‘Mione. Then we can go home.” His voice was full of promise for what would come later.



Feeling a pang of hunger that she didn’t expect, she looked at Ron. Pulling Ron close, the newlyweds looked at him and said, almost simultaneously, “Leave any food for us?”



The unintentional echo of their voices caused Ron to burst out laughing; forgetting for a moment that they were teasing him about the mountains of food that he usually consumed.



They had been friends for so long that he was no longer hesitant to show them the tremendous love and affection which he felt for them both. There were many things that he wanted to say to them along those lines, but he was sure that they would keep until Harry and Hermione had returned to school. Besides, he thought, he had his hands full with his engagement to Luna – which them would announce on the coming Monday.



As he dwelt on just how best to make the announcement (he was favoring the Great Hall, just before dinner), he gathered Harry and Hermione into his care and led them to the buffet line, so that they could be the first to eat.

*******************************

Dinner took almost an hour, during which the obligatory toasts and kisses were offered and given. The highlight of the party, besides Hermiones’ and Harrys’ first dance, came when Harry, Hermione, Ron and Luna, Neville and Ginny moved to the dance floor and had the band play UB40’s version of I Can\'t Help Falling In Love with You and Dame Un Beso by Giselle. Finally, everyone had a chance to collapse into their partners’ arms when the jazz band played a soft and lovely version of Unchained Melody.



After a while, the other guests saw that the dance floor was not so threatening and the numbers grooving to the live tunes grew. Even Miranda and Jake joined them and the two couples did the quick-step to The Charreada, by Linda Ronstadt, which damn near brought down the house, as no one expected Hermione to be able to pull off such a quick, lively dance in her wedding dress.



The most uncomfortable point of the evenings’ festivities – from Harry’s point of view – came when Ginny asked Hermione if she could dance with Harry and Hermione agreed.



As Ginny let the up-tempo Latin music wash over her, she pulled Harry close and looked up at him. She felt his hands pull her a little closer as their eyes met.



Her mouth moved little as she said to him quietly, “Pence for your thoughts Harry?”



Leaning close and brushing her ear with his lips, he replied, “It’s nothing, Ginny. You know how I get”



Ginny snorted, much as Harry had heard Hermione do a number of times.



“No, it’s true Ginny. I was just watching Ron and Hermione. I didn’t want to interrupt them by asking Hermione what he’s saying to her.”



Realizing that he had just let a very BIG cat out of the bag (bigger than Knight? He wondered), Harry tried to find another topic to talk about as they danced. Finally, he asked her about the bauble that was gracing her neck so beautifully. He even let go of one of her hands so that he could trace a finger along it’s length.



She felt his touch and blushed. She hadn’t had a chance to thank him for letting her wear it and she was feeling embarrassed. “Like it?” he asked?



She smiled at him and nodded. “I love it, Harry. Thank you for letting me wear it tonight. I’ve felt incredible; all dressed up like this. I’m going to hate to give it back when the night’s over.”



He stopped dancing and looked at her, puzzled. “What do you mean, Ginny?”



It was her turn to be confused. She said in a very small, hesitant voice “Don’t I have to give it back at the end of the night? I thought…..”



Harry smiled, figuring out in a second what she must have thought. “Ginny – it’s yours. It’s a gift. You never, ever have to give it back or anything. We got it for you.” Her jaw all but hit the ground, as she tried to comprehend what he was saying.



“You mean……” and her eyes went wide “You mean it’s mine?”



Harry took her in his arms and twirled her around, smiling the whole time. “Yes, Ginny, it’s yours.”



She lost almost all of the composure she had, and threw herself into his arms. Some part of her moved to kiss him and then thought better of it. Her mind was moving at a kilometer-a-minute as she thought about it. She estimated that all by itself, the necklace was worth more than her parents’ home and everything inside. She opted to disentangle herself from his embrace and run, rather than walk, to where Hermione was talking to Ron. Ginny gave Ron only the slightest of apologies before she pushed him aside and hugged Hermione with all the love and affection that she could for the young woman who had been her sister for all of her time at Hogwarts.



Seeing how Ginny had responded to what Harry had told her, he decided that Luna should also know, so he moved – much more sedately, he hoped – to where Luna was talking to Neville. Seeing that they were deep in conversation, he opted to retrieve a flute of champagne and wait, rather than interrupt them.



Finally, sensing a break in their conversation, Harry moved back to where they were seated and asked Luna if he could have a moment of her time.



As she stood, he realized that she really did look fabulous in her form-fitting, silk dress and heels. He thought for a moment that she resembled Lady Diane when she was a young woman, only with flowing blonde hair, instead of Diana’s slightly softer brown tones.



She saw his appraising look and smiled at him with the whispy, vaguely mysterious smile that he had gotten used to from her. “What is it, Harry? Are you happy? You know I had a vision of you and Hermione here three years ago and I could feel the love you have for each other.”



“Well – I thought you ought to know the same thing that I told Ginny. That necklace….” Luna absentmindedly ran her fingers along it “That is yours, Luna. It’s a gift for you from Hermione and me. We wanted you to know how much we love and appreciate you and that we can never thank you enough for everything that you have done for us.”



A single tear fell from her eye as she looked at him. “I love you, you know.”



It was Harry’s turn to surprise her. He said, very affectionately, “I know, Luna. I’ve always felt it from you. There’s always been something very rare and special about you.”



She stepped forward and put a gentle hand on his chest. “Thank you, Harry. I never thought I’d be able to tell you.”



Harry looked down her, as there was at least five inches difference in height between them. “Luna….I think….if Hermione and I hadn’t found each other and realized what we had together…I think I would have come looking for you.”



She swallowed hard and nodded. She had known that there had been the potential for a connection between the two of them, but it felt great to hear him admit it. Hearing it said and being able to acknowledge it seemed to give closure to it, in a very good way, so that both felt resolution from it.



“Luna? Take good care of Ron. He’s the brother I never had and I love the git.”



Smiling slyly, Luna held up her left hand just enough for him to see and waved her right hand over it. The concealment charm that covered her ring fell away, leaving her engagement visible to his gaze.



His eyes went huge and bright – a reaction that Luna appreciated for the myriad messages that it carried.



With another wave, the ring was hidden again.



It was his turn to nod. “When?”



“Monday, just before dinner. In the Great Hall, I think.”



“We’ll be there, for sure then.”



Luna stepped into his embrace and the two held each other for several long and tender seconds.



“Hermione? Have I got a surprise for you!”



“Afterwards, Harry. Talking to my parents and my grandmother. Don’t want to give anything away. Come find me.”



Harry stepped close to Luna; kissed her forehead, and then slowly turned and walked back to where Hermione stood talking to Berti, Jake, and Miranda.

*******************************

After making the rounds and chatting with all of the people who had made an effort to travel back to Britain to attend the wedding, including many of Miranda’s extended family on her fathers’ side – who had traveled all the way from Il St. Re in southern France, Harry and Hermione began their not-so-subtle hints that they would be departing soon. Hermione was suddenly grateful that Miranda had told her repeatedly during the afternoon that while it was considered important and polite for the new couple to stay and greet all of their guests and friends, Harry and Hermione were not expected to be the last to leave. On that point, they were going to get no argument from their Head Boy and Girl. Having already received from the Headmaster almost carte blanche permission to take what time they needed for their ‘wedding night’, the two were anxious to be away.



Most of the Hogwarts students had, in fact, encouraged them to leave early, so that Harry and Hermione could get off on their wedding night and so that it didn’t look impolite when the rest of the sixth- and seventh-year Hogwarts students left. True to form, it was still early in the evening when the Headmaster reminded all of them that they had to be back to school in time to get at least some sleep before the start of classes the next day.



Ready to leave, Mrs. Potter?



Hermione sent back a ‘YES’ that was so emotionally laddened that it almost brought Harry to his knees.



With Ron, Ginny and Luna’s help, Harry and Hermione finally got the assemble throngs’ attention and together, bade them all good night; making a point to thank all those who had helped to make the wedding and reception possible and especially all those who had, as their wedding gift, donated funds to the Save the Children fund. Those who had brought presents anyway would be personally thanked later, in hand-written notes (which Harry thought would probably be written by Hermione, as she was the one who usually attended to those kinds of things).



Finally ducking out the doors, they almost ran to the carriage. The beautiful white horses which others would see were, in reality, Thestrals, and somehow Hermione and Harry thought it fitting that their livery be guided by the magnificent animals.



The Auror strike team hovered close by. They had been told explicitly by Madame Bones, when they were given their orders for the evening, that it would not have done to have the heroes of the wizarding world struck down on their wedding day. Once the carriage was rolling, the Aurors used line-of-sight apparition to keep nearby.



The carriage pulled into the driveway at Jake and Miranda’s home. Harry stepped out first and helped Hermione get down, so that she wouldn’t hurt her dress. As the evening stars began to appear, Harry and Hermione made their way through the garden gate and out back to the apparition point in Jake and Miranda’s back yard. It was the traversing spot that had been chosen because of how secluded it was and the fact that the relatively loud noises made by multiple, near-simultaneous disapparations was lost in the forest which surrounded the house and its environs.



Pulling the private portkey which both Harry and Hermione carried with them at all times, Harry looked at her. In a matter of an hour or less, they would be at Godrics’ Hollow. The thought of it caused his blood to pulse much more quickly in his veins.



Dissolving in a swirl of blue and white light, the newlyweds returned to the only place that had protected them during the long and terrible struggle against Tom.

*******************************

10 pm. September 19th - Godrics’ Hollow



The moon was full and bright as they suddenly winked into existence along the garden walkway in front of their home. The moonlight set off the brass door knocker that had been a gift to them – by the owner of Florish & Blotts – even before they had first come home from St. Mungo’s. The memory of the first time they came home – on that cold February morning – flowed through him, unbidden and unstoppable. Not that he wanted to stop it.



Because of their new bond, Hermione was instantly aware of the shift in his emotions and she looked at him. She saw the tears at the corner of his eyes.



“What is it, my love?”



Harry couldn’t answer her; at least verbally. Rather, he pushed the image at her that had overtaken him. He showed her his memory of approaching a freshly painted door, bearing a brass door-knocker shaped like a golden snitch, and carrying her across the threshold.



His voice cracked as he looked at her. “Hermione? I love you so much.”



Hermione turned to face him; her eyes expectant as she wiped away the moon-kissed moisture at the corner of his eyes. She said to him, as she stood near him, “Promise me that we’ll always remember this, Harry? That we’ll grow old together and not forget this night?”



He knew that she was only voicing things that they had already shared in their many telepathic conversations, so he smiled at her and took her face in her hands – something that he loved doing – and said “Hermione, this is ours. No one and nothing will ever take it from us.”



That was enough for her in the moment.



With another wave of his hand, the door unlocked itself and sprang open. He looked at her and then swept his hand under the back of her legs; catching her up in his arms and holding her to him.



His steps were slow and measured as he carried her up the pathway and to the door. As they crossed the threshold, he paused momentarily with her so that they could feel the magic of the house swirl around them. It felt like a welcoming hug – a family hug – that cause Hermione to tear up.



“We’re home, Hermione.”



She was at a loss for words, but her feelings were strong and palpable to him, as they went up the stairs together and to the bedroom which used to be a sanctuary for James and Lily.



Knowing that she was in a familiar and safe place and with her husband – the man who had promised to love her for all eternity – helped her to drop all of her shields and open her mind to him in a way that she had never done before.



“Harry?”



He looked at her, as he set her down on the king-sized Mahogany sleigh bed. He could feel the currents and eddies of her emotions much more intensely than he ever had before. It was nothing at all to let go of his defenses – mental barriers he had built up over seven years of dealing with Voldemort’s constant intrusions into his mind – because he knew that for the first time, he was completely, utterly and finally safe in the love that the two of them shared.



The golden aura that the two of them had gotten used to was in full bore. It bathed the room with its intensity and changed the look of the walls – which they had changed to a soft, pale green color – to something more complex.



The platinum, Sapphire and diamond hair band/tiara that the Queen had given to Hermione was alight with something that looked to Harry like St. Elmo’s fire. He reached out to touch it and it felt not as cold as he expected. Hermione felt the pressure of his hand and her fingers snaked up to intertwine with his. Her fingers were warm as she drew her husband down to the bed.



“Harry? Do you want to make love now?”



His eyes were twinkling in a way that she had seen only with the Headmaster. There was love in them for her that was inexpressible.



“More than I can tell you, Hermione. I want to touch every part of you and have you fall asleep on top of me.”



“I guess I’m going to have to change out of this beautiful dress, if that’s going to happen, aren’t I?”



As he lay next to her, his hands were exploring the soft silk of the dress – which he hadn’t had a chance to do as intimately, earlier in the evening. He took his time, caressing her every curve, and trying to memorize every inch of her glorious seventeen-year old body.

As his fingers traced over her breasts, and down across the flat hardness of her stomach, he felt the familiar soft edge of her knickers under the dress. He didn’t dare ask which she had chosen for their wedding day, but he hoped that she was wearing the white silk ones that he had come to love on her so much.



The images in his mind were a dead give-away to her, since she was sharing his thoughts.



“Yes, Harry, I’m wearing silk. I hope you like them.”



He groaned and felt his cock expand quickly and happily at the thought of feeling her; touching her, in her knickers, and being able to make love to her for the first time.



It was hard to resist the temptation just to banish her dress and his tux and make love to her then and there, but he knew that there were several special things that he wanted to give her before they lost themselves to making love.



“Hermione? I have some things for you, first. One’s a wedding gift and the other’s a birthday gift. May I?”



Usually, gifts were very much a secondary priority for Hermione. Being with people – at least being with family – was much more important. She had learned early on, that however nice gifts were (gifts that often came in the form of books) or however much they allowed her to retreat, they couldn’t hug you or say ‘I love you’.



“What have you done, Harry?”



He grinned at her. He was trying no to think of the proverbial ‘pink elephant in the room’ – because of how much Hermione was intertwined in his thoughts. He focused his magic and said non-verbally ‘Accio Hermiones’ gifts’.



A moment later, a white box with a silk bow; a silver banker’s folio; and a small box which Hermione thought was very, very familiar all drifted into the room from somewhere unknown and they arranged themselves in a line next to the two of them on the bed.



“Love? I think it might be best if you opened the one with the silk bow, first.”



Hermione smiled at him and then leaned in close to kiss him. His lips were warm and tasted of the muggle mint candy he had snarffed just before they left the reception hall. “God, Harry. I want you. I’m already really wet and we haven’t even undressed yet.”



Their eyes met and Harry knew fully what she was feeling. Her desires were coursing through her body, and because of their link, through his as well. It made him ache with the same kind of desire and he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to hold off very much longer before they gave full vent to their love for each other.



“Let’s just open the box with the silk bow and the small box. We can open the other one tomorrow or over the weeks’ end. We still have the Queens’ gifts to look at.”



Hermione pulled away from their lingering kiss long enough to sit up on the edge of the bed. With hands that left contact Harry’s body very unwillingly, she undid the bow and then the string ties that held it closed.



The box itself was non-descript and held no hint of what lay undiscovered inside. The smell, however, was another thing entirely. Harry had not thought to try to remove the smell, because he liked it too much and didn’t realize that it would be a dead give-away to Hermione. She smiled as she thought back to that wonderful afternoon, when she was measured, pampered, massaged, and generally treated to the best four hours of feminine indulgence that she had ever had.



“Oh Harry!” She said, as she pulled back the pink tissue paper and saw, folded, the ivory peignoir set that she remembered seeing hang on one of the racks at Silk Enchantments. The moment she had seen it, she had longed to own it, regardless of the ridiculous price tag.



Obviously, Harry had been less embarrassed about paying the steep price for the outfit and she loved him for it.



“Like it? Do you want to put it on?”



“Yes! Oh Harry…I love you!”



Once he had taken the tiara/headband out and laid it carefully on the night table, she winked at him and moved towards her walk-out closet, where there was a full-length mirror and places for her to hang up her wedding dress.



As she was changing, Harry thought he’d take the chance to change, too, so he got up off the bed and walked into the bathroom, where he knew there was a separate his and hers closet. He was tired enough to not want to struggle with multiple layers of clothing, once he and Hermione chose to consummate their marriage finally.



Harry stripped down to his new, forest-green silk boxers and put on his silk Gryffindor house robe.



Before he went back to their bedroom, he quietly called out. “Dobby?”



Closing his eyes, Harry waited. He thought about what he would ask Dobby. He knew that his requests would be fairly easy – at least for Dobby.



CRACK!



Suddenly, Dobby was standing in front of him. The diminutive elf was wearing wizards’ robes and a patch which indicated to everyone that Dobby belonged to the House of Potter. It was new, but it didn’t though Harry – because Dobby was always coming up with something that surprised him.



Harry spoke to him quietly and quickly and then gave the elf a hug, before the elf disappeared. This time, however, he did so silently. Harry smiled.

*******************************

Harry stood and walked back into the bedroom; the red silk and gold Gryffindor robe hanging loosely about his shoulders; untied at his waist. He could not see Hermione, but he could feel her presence and knew that she must be either on the bed already; wearing his (their) invisibility cloak or she’s somewhere in the room, covered by a disillusionment charm.



“Hermione?”



“Here, love.”



There was a sparkling shimmer as the disillusionment fell away and Hermione was revealed.



Harry was stunned at what he saw.



She was breathtaking. The chemise of the peignoir set hugged her every curve and gave lie to anyone who could not help but associate women who were intellectually gifted with less-than-stellar looks. Her eyes were bright and alive with promise; her hair fell in perfect ringlets about her shoulders; and her breasts were high and full, and had no need of support. Her hips were slim and beautiful and ran out into long, perfectly silky legs. Harry could make out the outline of her silk knickers under the chemise and he grinned. Her only other adornments were her engagement ring, wedding band, and the Gringotts medallion that was her constant companion. They were more than enough.



His body and his desires were an open book for her to read. His erection, which had subsided while he was in the bathroom, changing, had returned with vengeance and was creating an enormous tent in his boxers. Hermione might have been embarrassed by it in her younger years and tried to laugh away the tension of the mixed feelings it caused in her, but it was all she could do now, as he looked at it with a feral hunger, not to banish immediately the bits of silk between them and impale herself immediately on his manhood.



They moved towards each other and soon their lips were crashing together. “I’m not going to last long, the first time, Hermione. I want you too much.”



The upside, she thought, of being a bookworm and muggle-born, in a western, open and democratic society, was that she had certain distinct advantages over her wizard-born compatriots. One of those advantages was the much more liberal and progressive attitude the society had towards sexual knowledge.



She had taken advantage of those more liberal and progressive attitudes and asked her mother for help and, just as Hermione knew that she would, Miranda guided her towards the most informative, honest, and unbiased texts on human sexuality and relationships. It was in several of those texts that Hermione had learned that intensely sexual or emotional moments caused quick climaxes in men; particularly young men, and that there was little, if anything, that could be done about it.



Hermione laughed to herself. Who said we had to get it perfect on the first try?

*******************************

For several long minutes, they stood next to the giant bed and kissed; their hands exploring every inch of the others’ body.



Finally, they broke apart and Harry pulled her up in bed, so that he could kneel while facing her.



The small package, which she had eyed so suspiciously when Harry had first summoned it, appeared again in his hand. He held it out to her and nodded when she reached out to take it.



As the off-white, satin bow fell away, Hermione looked at the box. It had a monogrammed phoenix on it and the raised initials “A.P.W.B.D” printed underneath.



She could feel the powerful magic radiating off the box and again she looked at Harry. He nodded again and then took off the lid. Inside was yet another box, but longer this time and covered in burgundy-colored velvet. She lifted the second box out and placed it on her lap.



“What do you think it is, Hermione?”



She looked at him and said, “I don’t know, Harry. I can feel that it’s very magical, but beyond that….”



The sound of her voice was momentarily startling to Harry. They were both so used to using the telepathy to communicate that the sound of their own voices shook them.



He was neither going to confirm nor deny any of her suppositions, so she pressed on and very carefully opened the second box.

*******************************

Even in the wizarding world, it was common knowledge that you can never judge a book by its cover, nor a person by the color of his or her skin. Similarly, everyone knew that a pretty box can hide ugly truths and ugly boxes can reveal contents precious beyond measure.



The happy thing, however, was that sometimes, a pretty box held something just as pretty inside.



Hermione opened the lid and peered at the object within. What she saw almost caused her to faint.



“Hermione? It’s all right. It’s real and it’s from the Headmaster – well, at least part of it is.”



Opening the box once more, she let her eyes travel over the gift. What she saw was so incredible that she knew she needed the reassuring warmth of daylight…and the company of adult witches and wizards smarter than she – to help her comprehend what she had been given. It was too much in the moment to take in, and so she decided she would not try. She knew that there were more important things to attend to. Much, much more important things.



*******************************

As he watched all of the emotions play over her face, he shifted around, so that he was ready to help her in any way she wanted. However, all of the things that he had expected to have to deal with involved her both immediate acceptance of the gift and its explanation. Nothing prepared him to see her put it aside.



She looked at him. “I’m not ready, Harry. If it’s what I think it is, I’m not ready. I may never be ready for it.”



“It’s all right, Hermione. Tonight is for us. Nothing should get in the way and that” He pointed to the gift “can wait”.



He took the velvet box from her carefully; closed it; and then moved it to the night table as well.



Taking her hands in his, he pulled her to him, so that her body was snuggled close to his. The golden light that had enveloped them earlier began to grow again, so that the room was once again bathed in it. To Harry, ever since he had first seen it, it had felt like a familiar friend and he welcomed it.



He took a deep breath and to his annoyance, felt a wave of tiredness that was as unexpected as it was unwelcome. It fought with his desire for her and his growing need to feel the blessed release that always came when she touched him.



She felt the tiredness too and tried to fight it, so that she could be everything that Harry needed.

“Hermione? I don’t think I can…”



She knew what he was trying to say. At least, she knew what his head was saying; which conflicted with the message that his body was sending.



She tried to comfort him; to let him know that it was all right, and that she didn’t expect him to perform like some kind of wind-up toy, that could perform on command. “It’s all right, Harry. Maybe we can do something else first?



The suggestion that they ‘do something else’ sparked Harry’s interest, because Harry’s erection ‘bounced’. Hermione giggled and reached out to wrap her hand around it.



It didn’t take much of her touch to cause his whole system to flutter wildly.



“Oh god, Hermione. That feels good!”



Hermione looked at him with a gleam in her eye. “Want to do each other?”



They had become very practiced at using their hands to please each other, so Harry reached out to explore her body and lift the hem of her chemise, only to be pushed onto his back. With a casual flick of her hand, she banished his boxers and pulled her chemise up around her waist, so that Harry could have access to her body.



Harry’s hands went to her hips, to help guide her body on top of his, so that she could take his organ into her mouth while presenting to him access to her silk-covered sex.



Pleasuring Hermione orally was one of Harrys’ favorite activities, so when she bent over to take his cock in her mouth, it exposed her knickers to his view and to his touch.



“Like them?” She said in his mind.



Bending his head forward, he kissed her through the silk of her knickers, right over her most sensitive spot.



“Oooooow, Harry. Again?”



He put his hands on her hips and pulled her backwards, so that he could have better contact with all of her; kissing the same spot again when she was close enough to his head.



At the same time that he kissed her through her knickers, she pushed her own head forward, so that she could take more of him into her throat. “Don’t stop, Harry. Lick me? Please….”



Harry thrust his hips upward, trying to show her that he was enjoying what she was doing and wanted more.



Hermione started to gasp, but then felt his penis surge forward again, filling her mouth and cutting off the sound. His pent-up desire came at her in waves that matched the throbbing of his erection; buffeting her mind and overcoming her tenuous self-control. Every time he pressed his mouth onto her sex, through her knickers, and she felt the warmth of his breath wash over her clit, she shuddered and re-doubled her attack on his erection.



Pulling aside the gusset of her knickers, Harry tongued her sex; flicking over her clit and then down; pushing deep into her sex. With the other hand, Harry caressed her arse; squeezing and exploring as his hand wandered. Pushing all of the desire he was feeling for her over their link, Harry thought at her, “Did I ever tell you how much I love seeing you in your knickers?”



Hermione was too caught up in what she was doing to him and what he was doing to her to respond, but he could feel her excitement at his words, anyway.



‘Engorgio partialis’, Harry thought.



Once he was satisfied with the length of his tongue, he pushed it into her, so that he could please her as much as she was pleasing him and taste her the way he loved to do.



“Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooh, fuck! Oh God oh God, oh God. Don’t stop, Harry! Oooooooooooooh fuck me!”



Neither of them could hold back and soon, their orgasms crashed through them. Instead of backing off him, Hermione pushed herself forward and took as much of Harry into her throat as she could, as she felt him tense up. She knew that he was going to cum for her and she longed to drink him down because she loved the feel and taste of him.



As the titanic wave of his orgasm hit, Harry finally banished her knickers to a corner of the bed with the merest flicker of will and then pushed as much of his tongue into his wife as he could; holding it there as the muscles of her sex pulsed again and again. She tasted of vanilla and tang; salt and cinnamon and something else that was indefinably her.



Spent, Harry fell back, sated and happy, lost in the joy and peace of being with the woman whom he would call his wife and best friend for the rest of eternity.



*******************************

The full moon had set and it was truly dark outside. Harry moved his head to look around and immediately felt a warm wetness against his lips. Hermione.



They had fallen asleep, Harry guessed, after making each other cum. Hermione was still facing away from him, her legs around his head, and his flaccid organ still in her mouth. Now that’s a pacifier! Harry thought to himself, as he eased back into his pillow.



His last thought and act before letting sleep claim him once again was to cast a warming charm over Hermiones’ body and to place a pillow under her head, so that she could sleep.

*******************************



She didn’t know how long they had lain there, intertwined, but Hermione guessed that they had passed out after their bout of mutual pleasure. The first thing that she realized was that she still had his cock in her mouth and that he was semi-erect.



She didn’t want to wake him up and she didn’t want to give up her chance to arouse him by sucking him to hardness and repeating the nights’ pleasures, but she had to use the facilities and that took precedence.



The only question that she had centered on how she should move so that she didn’t wake him up.



She would have turned her head to look around, but his organ was beginning to be insistent in her mouth and it was all she could do, if she wasn’t going to wake him up, to disentangle herself from his grasp.



Deciding that it didn’t hurt to bring him to a fuller erection, Hermione began to suck on him softly; moving her tongue up and down his length and memorizing anew every ridge and bump. His cock was so gorgeous – so huge – that it made her wet all over again. Her former suite-mates at Hogwarts might or might not have been shocked to learn that she had dual sexual fixations – oral and anal. She thought of herself as sort of a ‘heads and tails’ kind of girl – and that seem to suit Harry just fine.



Wondering for a moment what Freud would have made of her psychoanalysis, she smiled inwardly and decided that she didn’t care what he, or anyone else, thought. She pushed him deep into her throat and then made a perfect “O” with her lips; drawing them backwards slowly, until she reached the crown of his organ. He shuddered and twitched, but didn’t wake up.



Realizing that she hadn’t felt his hands or his head move yet, she seized her chance and disapparated nearly silently to the adjoining loo, so that she could clean up and make herself more presentable.

*******************************

After twenty minutes had passed, Hermione slipped back to their bed, and moved in close to Harry, so that she would be next to him when he woke. She was determined to consummate their marriage as soon as possible - preferably before another hour had passed – but barring that, as soon as Harry woke up. She looked down his body and saw that his cock was rock-hard and she though that he must be enjoying the after-effects of her oral affections.



Drawing the blankets up over them, so that the two of them could be warm, she laid her head on his chest, wrapped one slim hand around his wonderfully tumescent organ, and let dreams once again claim her

*******************************

The sun was high in the sky and the sounds of migrating birds filled the trees all around Godric’s Hollow. Large, unbroken stands of Aspen, Beech, Birch, and Scots pine ringed the glade where the cottage sat; their branches dipping low to shade the little yellow house.



The trees had gone unmolested for hundreds of years, because they had been unseen by the early loggers who had roamed the forest, looking for trees to make into masts for the British muggle queen’s navies when she sought to make war on France and then Spain. Now they were great trees – thirty, forty, even fifty meters high and wider than two mens’ embrace.



The birds seemed louder than usual, Harry thought, as he lay mostly covered by the double-thick gold and maroon cotton quilt which he and Hermione had made together, during their first months away from Hogwarts, St. Mungo’s, and the rest of the wizarding world. Hermione had picked out the fabric, based on the colors Harry said he liked, and then she taught him - muggle-fashion - how to cut the individual fabric pieces, iron them, and lay them out, so they formed the pattern which they had chosen together.



It had been a time-consuming task, but one that they had taken to, because it helped them take their minds off what they had experienced together that awful December night. Harry loved magic and all that it could do - he always had - but he was glad that Hermione had shown him how to do it and he hoped that she’d suggest they do another one – either for themselves or for Ron and Luna, or even for Ginny and Neville. Harry wasn’t sure that Ron would appreciate the time and energy that such quilts took, but he was pretty sure that Luna would – and that she would see to it that Ron did as well – with sufficient prodding.



As the sun poured into the room, he lifted his head up a bit and looked around to see the grandfather clock in the corner. Without his glasses however, he was still blind as a bat, and so he gave up. He knew that it was late, because of where the sunlight fell in the room. How late, though, was speculation. Long enough, certainly, for them to have been asleep a great while.



The head on his chest was at once both so familiar and yet so new. Harry realized, with a clarity of memory that almost stopped his heart, that on his chest lay the head of his wife!



He was seventeen and he was MARRIED! He hoped that his parents were proud of him and that they saw the same kind of love between himself and Hermione as his parents had had, before they had been killed.



While memories of what had happened, before, during, and after their ceremony, he ran his fingers up her back and through her hair. Harry thought that Hermione’s skin was silkier and softer than any fabric he’d ever touched and that she was perfect. At least, perfect in every way that could ever, possibly matter to him.



“Hmmmmm. Harry?”



“Right here, my wife.”



Hermione’s head shifted on his chest, so that she had more of his chest to sleep on. It was as if she was trying to fluff a pillow or something, the way that she adjusted her position.



The moment she moved, Harry re-tucked the quilt up and around Hermiones’ shoulders, so that cool winds of the early morning air which came in the high, open window, would not touch her.



A small chill ran down her body and caused her to snuggle even closer to his body.



His voice was quiet and loving in her mind, as she draped her arm across his chest. “ ‘Mione? Do you want to make love?”



She looked up at him and their eyes met. Suddenly, the need that she had felt the previous night was coursing through her.



Instead of saying anything more, she clambered up and onto his body, so that she could kiss the side of his face and the nape of his neck.



“Now?”



She kissed his jaw and captured his lips with hers as she rubbed her sex up and down his steely length.



“Yes!”



“How?”



“Take me, Harry. I want you on top of me.”



Harry had expected that. It was how they had first made love, that awful, yet amazing night, when she had come to his bed after he’d escaped the battle in the cemetery and returned with Cedrics’ body to alert Dumbledore and the wizarding world of Voldemorts’ return. He had pulled up her nightgown and ripped away her soft, sensible, white cotton knickers before he had parted her legs and taken her. For Harry and Hermione though, the terrible pain that came with those memories was gone and forgotten; never to return. All he knew was that, partly because of her sacrifice that night, he loved her more than life itself.



It didn’t take much of Hermiones’ insistent, erotic grinding against him to bring him to a raging, full hardness – and the touch of her soft, silky hands on his face and chest served only to increase the his ardor.



Still kissing her, Harry rolled Hermione onto her back, so that he was looking her in the eyes, as his body settled between her legs.



“Take me, Harry, before I rape you.”



Harry broke the kiss, grinned at her, and then brought his face close to hers once again, so that he could trace her lips with his tongue. He wanted to savor every moment of their love-making.



“Harry….don’t tease me. I want you now.”



The look in his eyes told her how much he loved her, but also that he was still afraid of hurting her.



“You won’t hurt me, Harry. That problem’s long gone, ok? Please?”



He swallowed hard and nodded.



Reaching down, he took his organ in hand and lined himself up as best he could. When he felt the wetness of her core against his tip, he knew that she was ready.



He pushed; slowly at first. When he didn’t feel resistance, he pushed some more and felt the head of his cock slide into her. It was so wet and welcoming.



Making love to Hermione was indescribable for him. It was like being surrounded by a warm, wet, slippery, velvety glove and it felt more right than anything he could have ever imagined. So different from the first time - when their ardor had been fueled, mostly, by the pain from which he was trying to flee. Her pain and her sacrifice for his happiness had been unregarded that night, but regarded and resolved when he had given her the medallion that she wore around her neck: the one she would never, ever remove.



This time was all about love. It was about their love and their commitment – and their promise to live and be only for each other.



As she captured his body with her ankles and drew him in, he went willingly and soon, he was all the way into her. No pain, no hesitation…just…lust, love, and joy.



They were finally husband and wife.

“ ‘Mione? Can you feel it? Can you feel what is happening? Can you see it?”



By ‘it’, Harry meant the almost blinding light that had sprung up around them and was pulsating roughly in time with their heartbeats. It was light looking at the aurora borealis, but only much closer and much more intense. It was the first time that Harry felt that he could reach out and touch the lumens amor and when he did, it felt very much alive and a like a part of the two of them.



Lying down on top of her for a moment, Harry took the break and breathed in her breathe and held her body to his. Their mouths met in a hungry collision as Harry slid out of her partially and then surged back into her. Breathing mattered less in the moment than being connected as completely as possible did for the two of them.



He didn’t need a verbal answer from her. Hermione surrendered the last of her emotional and mental controls over her magic and it had come pouring out of her to meet; intertwine, and finally merge forever with his.



It was glorious. Every time Harry surged into her, her hips – her whole body - answered and she gleefully took his rampant shaft deep into her body. It was the most welcome feeling Hermione could imagine. Nothing - no bit of touching, nor even her cleverly fashioned replicas, could ever do for her what her husband was doing to her again and again.



“Oh God, Harry. Don’t ever stop!!”



She squeezed down around him as he buried himself deep inside her.



She didn’t need to tell him to keep going. She didn’t need to let him know that every part of her mind and body was wanting him, because he already knew.



He couldn’t last forever. Soon, his body was tensing and he knew that his climax was imminent.



“Do it, Harry. Cum in me. I want to feel it.”



That was all Harry needed to hear. Three deliberate, deep thrusts into her and he came - hard.



Hermione was right there with him. She met his thrusts with thrusts of her own and the moment she felt him grow impossibly large insider her, her climax hit.



Nothing could have prepared her for feeling fully and completely engulfed in love, the way she did. It so defied description that the Bard himself would have baulked at the challenge.



Harry thought that ‘I love you’ seemed such in inadequate thing to say in the moment. No protestation of love ever was, really. There was simply no good way to convey the totality of love and what it really means. Harry longed to say something that would, or even could describe what he was feeling and how much he loved her….but in the end, he decided to simply open himself and let her feel everything he was feeling. If she hadn’t been ready for it, it would have overwhelmed her, but she was truly, totally open to him, for the first time in her life, and in that moment, she learned that she was loved in the way that the Bishop had said.



Before she fell asleep again, Hermione swore that she would never let herself be without his love or touch again.



*******************************

True to their dreams, Harry and Hermione stayed physically connected, no matter how one or the other of them moved. The other was always there, touching, holding, caressing, or pleasuring.



Like honeymooners the world over, they had no intention of leaving their wedding bed until they absolutely had to.



Hermione was the first to break open an eye when the hunger pangs began. She propped herself up so she could look down at her husband. As it always had, the sight of him took her breath away. Green-eyed, broad-chested, lean to a fault, with rippling muscles that made her ache with desire, Harry was the epitome of a teen-age Greek Adonis.



She wiggled her hips and felt his erection swell in her yet again. The feeling of him so deep inside her made her want to either laugh or cry; she wasn’t sure which – it just felt so good.



Hermione looked down at him as he slept. She looked at his mouth…Oh god, his mouth….which had pleasured her so incredibly the night before. Harry had licked, sucked, and caressed her clit and filled her sex so thoroughly that she almost wept for the memory of it. If the girls at Hogwarts had ever discovered what an amazing lover her husband was for her, she would be killed in a wave of spite and jealousy.



“He’s mine. All mine, forever.” Hermione thought to herself as she ground down on his steely hard-on.



She could feel how wet she was and how easily her sex moved around his organ and it was one of the most erotic things she had ever felt. She had never imagined, even when she had a toy moving in both of her openings, that she could feel so turned on.



Reaching down, she touched herself; rubbing her clit and reveling in the sparks it was causing; from her head, to her painfully hard nipples, all the way down to her toes.



Her free hand came up to her left nipple; pinching it and rolling it around, as she posted up and down on his organ.



“You look amazing, ‘Mione. Don’t stop!”



So lost she was in the eroticism of the moment that she hadn’t seen Harry’s eyes open.



“Oh God, Harry! I am so hot. Please….?”



Harry knew what she wanted, so he brought his right arm around her and executing a maneuver that only a highly trained athlete could do, he flipped her onto her back, while keeping his cock deep inside her.



Looking down at her, he began to move his hips in a pulsing rhythm that threatened to take her breathe away.



“I’m going to fuck you until you’re cross-eyed and can’t stand up.”



“Promises, promises, Mr. Potter. Let’s see do it and then I’ll believe you.”



Harry grinned at her. He had every intention of living up to his promises.



*******************************

Before either of them knew it, it was Friday night and they hadn’t eaten since the wedding feast.



The lack of food was catching up with them both. In Harry, the lack of food announced itself as a roaring headache and distinct pain in his stomach. Hermione’s hunger always made itself known in the form of a slight nausea.



Harry looked at her and she smiled grimly. She knew exactly why they were both feeling slightly ‘off’.



“Dobby!”



A moment later, an almost silent ‘pop’ announced Dobby’s presence.



“You called, Master Harry?”



“Oh, Dobby! Thank Merlin. Hermione and I are both almost sick with hunger. We’ve been ahh….celebrating….and we’ve not eaten anything since last night. Could you…would you…?”



Dobby knew exactly what Harry was asking.



“Master Harry, Dobby is knowing just the thing for both of you. There was wonderful food at Hogwarts tonight and there is much that has not been eaten yet. I will bring all the food you both need.”



With that, Dobby disappeared.



“It shouldn’t be long, Hermione. Dobby is always quick. I’ll get us some water, though, and some headache medicine. I know I have some in my kit in the bathroom.”



“Yes, please, Harry. I’ll take two of whatever you’re getting. My stomach is in knots from not having eaten.”



“I know, love. I’m so sorry. I should have gotten us some food this morning….”



Harry left the rest of the statement hanging, because she knew precisely why they had not eaten all day and she had nary an objection to how they had spent their day. She really could never have asked for a better day. A little bit of nausea was a very small price to pay for the joy she had felt making love to her new husband.

*******************************

A few minutes later, Dobby re-appeared with two large trays of steaming food; all of which was plated on the standard china of Hogwarts (which were actually white stoneware), inscribed with the Hogwarts logo.



Dobby summoned/conjured a small, two-person dinner table for them and laid out dinner for them. With it, Dobby set a large pitcher of pumpkin juice and individual glasses of water – each with it’s own twist of lemon.



Harry looked at Dobby and then picked him up and gave him a warm hug. “Thank you, Dobby. This means a lot to me and Hermione.”



Dobby blushed deeply; unable to find words sufficient to tell his master how much the compliment meant to him. Hermione didn’t give him any more of a chance to do so. She knelt next to Dobby and kissed him between the ears and said ‘Thank you, Dobby. We’ll call you in the morning, ok?”



The little elf simply nodded as he tried to wipe away the single tear that had formed by his right eye. Hermione ran one finger along the elf’s face – touching him with real affection – before she swept the tear onto the bottom of her fingertip.



Dobby nodded, as if he understood what Hermione was about to do, and then disappeared.



Knowing how precious elf-tears are, Hermione took the tear and brought it over to Harry. She placed it on his broad, naked chest, and placed her palm against it. She looked at him – fixed her beautiful brown eyes on his sparkling green eyes – and incanted “Credo pectus oris amor”



Hermione had not known, really, what to expect from the charm. She had learned about it in a Master’s level charms text that she had borrowed from Dumbledore’s private library, but she was unsure what it would do to them. Partially, that was because they had intent-bonded a long time ago and had done so very strongly, and because they had just exchanged wedding vows.



Harry felt a sharp, momentary sting and then the golden light that they had gotten used to sprang into ferocious existence once again as the charm wove itself in and around their magical cores.



“Hermione?”



Hermione’s eyes were sparkling, even though she was still almost sick with hunger. She lifted her hand and held it so he could see it.



Imprinted on her palm was a faintly glowing, golden symbol in the shape of a heart. His mouth fell open as he looked at. It was pulsing in time with her heartbeat. He had heard of this charm, but it was such a powerful, rare charm that it was spoken of only in theoretical terms.



It shattered his soul. Hermione had done the thing that he had both prayed for and never thought would happened. She had literally given him her heart and soul. The charm, when it worked, tied two souls together irreversibly. It meant that that either of them was ever killed, the other would die instantly. It also meant that either had unlimited access to the others’ magic, knowledge, and inherent magical abilities.



“Harry?”



She looked at him as he held her. Harry could see some fear in her eyes and he didn’t understand it. “What’s wrong, Hermione?”



“It’s just…….oh God, Harry! What have I done? I’ve been so selfish!”



Harry could not fathom how she could feel like she had been selfish. She had just given him her heart and soul – literally the gift of life itself.



“Don’t you know, Harry? The charm binds us together. If one of us dies….the other does, too.”



He looked at her and still didn’t comprehend why she thought that was a problem. “Hermione? Don’t you know? It’s the one thing I would never have dared ask of you.”



“You mean?...”



She left the question hanging. He nodded. Suddenly, the fear and trepidation that she had felt fled and she was encased in his love. He pulled her to him and fell back against the bed, with his arms completely surrounding her.



“How could you know, Hermione, to do that charm?”



Instead of saying anything, Hermione dug down into her memories and showed Harry something she had never talked about before.



*******************************



Hogwarts – 4th year – Friday, November 6th – Third Floor – 4:05 pm.



Hermione was pounding along the corridor. She knew that if she didn’t hurry, she was not going to get to her favorite hiding place to study without being seen.



She really didn’t want to be seen at that particular moment – mostly because she was very, very distracted and needed time to deal with what she was feeling.



Only a week had passed since they had made the animagus transformation for the first time under the full moon and she and Harry had seen each other naked. Every night since then had been filed with dreams: wild, erotic dreams that she had never, ever expected, and they had all centered on one impossibly wonderful, green-eyed boy. The dreams had been vivid and completely, totally unnerving. How could she handle what she was feeling?



Throwing herself into the classroom and finding her favorite spot by the large half-moon windows, she transfigured two of the chairs into a large, comfy chair with a writing table attached.



However, even before she could start unpacking her burgeoning book-bag, one of the robe cabinets started rattling. She walked over to it and it started rattling even more strongly. Thinking that she knew what was inside, she stood back, drew out her wand, and said ‘Alohomora’.



The left door to the cabinet sprang open and Harry Potter stepped out. But it wasn’t Harry as she had ever seen him. It was Harry….dying. Blood was flowing from wounds all over his body and his face was a mess; as if someone had hit him repeatedly with a club or bat. He looked at her once, reached out for her with one hand, and fell to the ground, dead.



Hermione screamed. Completely forgetting that boggarts live and thrive on fear and that only laughter and the charm ‘ridiculous’ was capable of dispatching them, Hermione fell to her knees and began to cry as she had never cried before.



Soon, from the hallway came the sounds of multiple footsteps and another scream for help.



The boggart-Harry was still laying on the ground in front of where Hermione was kneeling when, in the vision, Harry heard a voice cry out ‘Ridiculous’.



The boggart-harry tried to become something else, but failed, and was driven back into the cabinet.



It took a moment before Hermione looked up and saw Professor McGonagall standing before her. “Get up, Hermione. It’s all right. The boggart’s gone.”



Harry heard Hermiones’ voice as she said “Please, Professor. Please don’t tell anyone about this – especially Harry. He’d be so worried….and he doesn’t know how I feel yet.”



The deputy-Headmistresses’ blue-grey eyes locked on her. “Hermione, there’s no shame in what happened. I’ll not say anything, I promise. However, I would advise you to pluck up your courage and tell him. He won’t remain alone forever if you don’t.”



Harry felt the memory fade and suddenly, they were back in their own time; holding each other and shaking with the residual sadness that Hermione had experienced.



“Hermione?....thank you. I didn’t know.”



“S’all right, Harry. I’ve been hiding that secret for a long time. I didn’t dare tell anyone, especially Ginny. I was really worried that Ron would hear about it and you two had just had your set-to outside the castle a few days before. I thought that he’d take another run at you or might say something to me that provoked you.”



Hermione felt her stomach twist in knots again and she looked longingly over at the food which was still steaming.



Harry followed her eyes and suddenly, there was a mutual understanding that whatever more needed to be said between them regarding those early days together, now was not the time.



Taking her arm, he escorted her over to the table and held the chair out for her, so that she could settle in comfortably.



Sitting across from her, he looked at the mounds of food that Dobby had brought and for the first time, thought that he just might be able to eat as much as Ron usually did.



*******************************

Harry didn’t’ remember crawling into bed with Hermione after they ate. All he knew was that he felt warm, loved, full, safe, and happier than he had ever felt in his whole life. Happier than his first night at Hogwarts, when he, Seamus, Ron, and Neville had eaten those incredible magic beans that caused you to make animal noises or made steam come out your ears and, incredible as it was, happier than the day that Hagrid had given him the photo album of his parents and he had gotten to see them holding him and each other for the very first time.



Holding Hermione and knowing that he was married to the person who would love and protect him for the rest of his life made all the sadness and hurt that he had ever felt somehow so much less important that he could hardly believe it.



Harry Potter was, at last, home.



*******************************



OK….it’s done. There’s a bit more smut to come, but we’re over the heaviest part of it (I think). I hope that you’ve enjoyed reading this chapter. I struggled with it, because this was another of those really emotional chapters that pulls at places that we all try to as writers, but ultimately can’t.



I am sorry that this took so long to produce, but real life interferes at the worst possible moments.



I’ll try to do better with the next chapter, but I make no promises as to when it will be released.



Regards,





The_scribbler