Two Step

The next morning, Bill woke up feeling quite a bit er aer and thanking the gods that it was Saturday. The curse had run its course around 2 a.m., and he had slept well the rest of the night. Even better, Hermione had stayed the night with him to make sure he didn’t need anything. .

Waking with her in his arms was heavenly. He buried his nose in her bushy hair and inhaled slowly. She murmured something unintelligible, and snuggled closer. Bill no longer had any doubts that he loved her. Visions of a future together filled his head. Hermione had proved herself an equal partner in his work, and he could imagine traveling with her and breaking curses around the world. Bill could easily see her climbing the narrow tunnels of a pyramid, digging a site with sifter and paintbrush, making love with him underneath the stars.

An insistent tapping downstairs disturbed his reverie. Hermione sleepily sat up and rolled out of bed. “Damn owls,” she muttered as she padded out of the room and down the stairs. Bill followed her, stretching his arms behind his back. When they reached the kitchen, they saw a Ministry owl rapping his beak irritably against the window. Hermione let him in, and he dropped an official looking letter into her hands, and then arrogantly took off before she could offer him a treat.

“Probably works for Percy,” Bill muttered as he started the coffee maker. He had picked up the coffee habit in Egypt, and had converted Hermione. He looked up to find her staring wide-eyed at the letter. “What is it?”

“It’s my N.E.W.T. scores.” Hermione’s knuckles were white as she gripped the parchment. He tilted her chin up gently to make her look in his eyes.

“Well, don’t make me wait! How did you do?” Instead of replying, she passed him the parchment. He took it, still looking at her, then glanced down. “Hermione! You set the record!” Throwing his arms around her, he swept her into a hug. She giggled as he swung her around.

When he set her down, he coued ued to stare into her eyes. Slowly, their mouths moved closer together until their lips finally touched. What started as a soft, friendly kiss quickly became more. Her mouth opened under his and he drew her closer into his body. As their tongues moved into each other’s mouths, he brought his hands up into her hair. Finally, they stepped apart, both smiling. “Wow!” she breathed softly.

“I know.” They looked at each other for a long minute. “How about we go out to dinner tonight – to celebrate your record.”

“Is that all it is? A celebration?”

He was about to answer her when there was a pounding on the front door. Giving oth other a quizzical look, they went to answer it. A sea of red hair greeted them when they opened it. Fred, George, Ron, and Harry stood on their front stoop.
The Weasley invading force was soon settled into the front room. Hermione whipped up some brunch, and they sat around talking for hours. Bill forced Hermione to share her N.E.W.T. scores, and they were surprised to learn that Ron and Harry had done surprisingly well. When Ron shared the news from home, they all laughed to hear that Arthur had brought home so many Muggle artifacts that Molly threatened to burn the Burrow down and start over.

In the middle of the afternoon, Hermione excused herself to take a shower. When she had gone, the conversation lulled for a moment. Then Fred popped up, “We never told you why we came! Oliver Wood is getting married and his stag party is tonight. You’ve got to come – it’s going to be wicked!”

“That sounds great!” Bill replied, “But I’m taking Hermione to dinner tonight to celebrate her N.E.W.T.’s.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, mate.” Ron said. “It’s just Mione. She’ll understand.”

“Yeah, it’s only Mione.” Harry added. “Not like it’s a date or anything.”

Bill thought for a moment. He wanted to keep his date with Hermione, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to have their relationship become public knowledge. “Yeah, not like it’s a date. Hermione will understand.”

“Of course I understand perfectly.” Hermione’s voice from the doorway was ice cold. “Excuse me, I forgot my drink.” She walked to the table to retrieve it, never looking at Bill, then walked out of the room again. Oblivious to the tension, Fred and George prattled on about the stag party while Bill gazed at the empty door. He badly wanted to follow her, to apologize, to explain, but the tone of her voice made him think he wouldn’t be welcome. He only hoped she would give him another chance.

Hermione wasn’t seen for the rest of that afternoon. When Bill went up to shower, her door was closed and warded. He let the tears that had been threatening all afternoon finally fall as he stood under the hot water. At last, he came to the realization that she would never have been so angry if she didn’t feel the same way about him as he did about her. He made up his mind to back out of the stag party, and do whatever it took to be with the woman he loved.

When Bill came out of the bathroom, her door was open but she was nowhere to be seen. As he descended the stairs, he saw her, standing in the midst of her admiring friends. But this was a Hermione he had never seen before. Her hair had somehow been frozen into a thousand distinct ringlets. She was wearing a low-cutte bte blouse that showed off indecent amounts of cleavage, and a short, black skirt that highlighted her strong, bare legs which were ended by tiny shoes with a heel so high he wondered how she could walk. Her makeup was done as well, and the kohl around her eyes only emphasized their size and beauty.

“Hermione….what are you…” he began.

“All you boys are going out for a bit of fun, so I thought I would as well.” Her voice hadn’t lost the cold, clipped tone.

“But, looking like that? You can’t…”

“Yes, Bill, I can. You are not my father, or my brother, or my boyfriend.” The last word was said with a peculiar emphasis. “I believe I can do whatever I damn well please.” And before he could say another word, she had Disapparated away.

“How come she can do that and we can’t?” Ron asked petulantly.

“Because it’s her fucking house!” Bill snapped. “Just go. Get out!” He refused all entreaties to go to the stag party, and practically chased the others out of the house. When they were gone, he went to the kitchen and sat down heavily at the table. Summoning a bottle of Firewhiskey, he settled in to wait for Hermione.

It was 1 a.m. before he heard the rattle of a key in the front door. Vaguely wondering why she hadn’t just Apparated in, he went to the front of the house. Standing in the open door was Hermione, only slightly bedraggled, with a man attached to her face. Although she wasn’t fighting the kiss, she didn’t appear to be participating either. The man pulled back and said, in what he apparently thought was a sultry tone, “So, love. Do I get to come inside?”

“No, you do not!” Bill shouted. Startled, the man turned, and saw a very imposing, very angry William Arthur Weasley. Taking in the disheveled long hair, the fang earring, and the fact that Bill was twice his size, the man began backing down the stairs.

“Sorry, mate. She didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend.”

“Well, she does, so fuck off! And you,” he directed this at Hermione, “close the door and get inside!”

With that, he turned and headed back to the dark kitchen, having some vague idea of finishing off the Firewhiskey and then beating his head with the bottle until he was senseless. He heard the front door slam, and the angry click of Hermione’s shoes across the floor.

“How dare you?” She was vibrating with anger. “How dare you chase off my date?”

“How dare you, Hermione? You pop out of here dressed like that, and I’ve been worried sick! That bloke could have been a murderer, he could have been a rapist, he could…”

“Unless he was Voldemort himself, I could have handled it, and you bloody well know it! Why do you care anyway? I’m ‘just Hermione,’ Harry Potter’s walking brain, one of the boys! I’m surprised all of you didn’t invite me to the stag party and then die of shock when I wasn’t fascinated with some girl’s tits!” Hermione’s voice rose with every word, and she paced angrily across the kitchen.

“I didn’t go. I wanted to be with you tonight.” Bill’s shoulders slumped. She was so angry. “I want to be with you every night.”

She stopped pacing to look at him. “It certainly didn’t seem like it.” For the first time, he saw the tears in her eyes.

“I was caught off guard. I didn’t know what to say.” He still didn’t know what to say. How could he make her understand? “Hell with it,” he muttered, and in one stride in fin front of her.

“Bill, what…” her words were cut off by his mouth descending on hers. Not gentle this time, but demanding, wanting. He brought his hands to her face to wipe away the tears, then pushed them back into her hair. She stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I love you,” he whispered against her mouth. She gasped and her eyes, which had closed with the kiss, flew open to look into his. “I love you,” he said again, letting his eyes convey his sincerity.

“I love you, too.” Hermione’s voice trembled with emotion. “Bill…” and their lips and tongues met again, while their need for each other grew with every white-hot second. She tasted of wine, and Bill hungered for more. He dropped his hands to her arse and picked her up. Her legs immediately wrapped around his waist as her arms were entwined about his neck. He walked the few steps to the kitchen counter and set her on it.

Bill couldn’t get close enough. His rock-hard erection ground into her as his arms pulled her tightly into his body. She moaned against his mouth and the sound nearly made him insane. Never breaking the kiss, he brought his hands to the buttons of her blouse. He wanted to undress her slowly, to worship every inch of her beautiful body, but his control had been lost. There would be time for gentleness later. Right now, he had to have her, to make her his. He ripped the buttons in his haste, then, inserting one finger under the front clasp of her bra, freed her exquisite breasts.

Hermione moaned again as Bill’s hands began lovingly kneading her breasts, his calloused thumbs circling her erect nipples. Her small cool hands at his back lifted his t-shirt off over his head. As their bare skin finally pressed together, he knew he couldn’t wait much longer. His kisses traveled down her neck, and she threw her neck back in ecstasy. As he reveled in the taste of her skin, his right hand dropped to her crotch. Moving under her impossibly short skirt, he insinuated one finger underneath her silky knickers, sliding it up and down her wet folds. “Bill…” she cried his name, and began scrabbling at his fly.

When she found his impossibly hard cock, and wrapped her fingers around it, Bill thought he would explode. He pulled at her knickers, and she wiggled to help him remove them. Standing up, he pulled her to him and entered her with one smooth thrust. Her legs wrapped about him again, and she pulled him in as deep as she could.

She watched him, the moonlight shining on his skin, as he pushed into her, again and again. With every thrust, the fang earring swung, and his unbound hair brushed against the top of her breasts. “Hermione…” he gasped. “Love you…love you.”

Kissing her again, he dropped one hand between them and circled her clitoris in rhythm with his movements. She began to tighten around him, and as he began to shudder, she went over the edge, screaming his name. He gasped out his climax, resting his head on her shoulder as he came down.

They sat like that for a moment, panting and sated. Suddenly, Bill stood up and looked at Hermione with something like horror. “We didn’t use anything! I have to get my wand!”

Hermione laughed as she held onto him. “Bill, I use the Muggle pill. We’re fine.”

He looked at her quizzically. “Why the Muggle pill and not the charm?”

“Bill, love, your mother used the charm yearyears.”

His eyes widened, and then he laughed gently. “Come on love, let’s go to bed.”