A Christmas Break

Chapter 4.

Harry woke up to the aroma of frying bacon, and for a brief moment he thought he was back in the Burrow. There were worst ways to be roused from your slumber he thought, and for the first time in weeks he felt totally rested. If he had dreamt, they’d been pleasant ones for a change.

Opening his eyes he saw that Hermione had her back to him as she was occupied at the stove. She was wearing her old and tired looking dressing gown. The blue colour had become so faded, by too many cleaning charms, that it was closer to murky grey now. The embodied unicorn on the back was now an off white, but Harry knew that she was sentimental attached to it, as it had been a present from her parents.

“That smells good,” he said still buried in the bed.

“You’re awake! It’s nearly done.”

“There was no way my stomach was going to let me sleep when it smelt bacon cooking, I’m starving.

“We haven’t eaten in twenty four hours. I’d be surprised if you weren’t.”

“What’s the time?”

“It’s just gone six.”

“Crikey we’ve slept most of the day.” Harry immediately climbed out of the bed, and promptly realised he was naked. He grabbed his own dressing gown that was hanging next to his bed. It never paid to get near cooking bacon with bare skin. He’d learnt that very early on in life.

“There’s no panic Harry,” Hermione said smiling as he passed her. Once he was covered he began to help in what had become a well rehearsed routine for the two of them. It wasn’t long before they were eating the strangest Christmas meal he’d ever had, or properly ever would. He didn’t think he’d ever eat one like it again, sitting in just a dressing gown while camping deep in a wood.

The meal consisted of a mixture of partridge, pheasant, and trout, all of which had been gathered from the wild, or as near the wild as animals get when they were raised to be shot or fished. There were a few brussel sprouts and leeks picked from various fields, and the bacon was a luxury that Harry had insisted on acquiring from a large supermarket with the aid of his invisibility cloak. The only reason Hermione would let him keep it, and various other foods, was a firm promise to pay them back once the danger was over.

“That was wonderful Hermione,” Harry said as he finished clearing his plate.

“No it wasn’t. I’m a lousy cook, you’re much better at it.”

“It filled a hole, so don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s not like there’s much you can do with what we have. I think we’re going to have to run up a larger bill with the supermarkets over the next few months otherwise we’re going to starve.”

“I don’t like stealing Harry.”

“Nor do I, but I don’t see a way round it unless we visit friends, and we can’t risk that.”

“We’ll see,” she answered and Harry didn’t force the issue. Hermione had as good as admitted he was right.

“I don’t know about you, but I stink worse than one of Ron’s socks.”

“You’re not that bad, but we could both do with a wash that’s for sure.” That though was a problem. The magical tent had a shower with it, but it had seen better days. They had found out the hard way that it only provided enough hot water for one decent shower per day. A cold shower did not appeal with snow on the ground outside.

“You take it Hermione I can wait.” There was a pause and Harry could see her brain working, and then a sly smile emerged.

“It’s still Christmas day Harry.” For a moment he wondered what she meant and then it dawned on him. It was possible he thought, the shower may be old, but it was certainly big enough for two of them. He’d had plenty of fantasies about sharing a shower, but they’d always involved Ginny.

Was he being unfaithful to her? Technical he had broken up with her, but emotionally he knew that didn’t count. If she’d been here instead of Hermione he knew that they would have ended shagging like crazy this morning. It had been an overwhelming urge that wouldn’t be denied.

That didn’t apply now though. He looked into Hermione’s eyes and could see the yearning that he too was feeling. Today had been one of the best days of his life, and he didn’t want it to end. Would it be right to end it now, and disappoint his closest and most loyal friend who was right here? It was only one day after all, and there was no guaranty either of them would survive when they faced Voldemort.

“As it’s still Christmas why not,” he answered after a pause. The deciding factor had been that he really did stink.

“You don’t have to Harry.” It was clear that Hermione knew exactly what he was thinking, but he had come to the conclusion that so long as this stopped after today he would be feeling no guiltier than he already was.

“I want to.”

“Come on then,” she said heading to the back of the tent and the magical bathroom.

Like most things magical the bathroom was well over the top. For a start there was a fully functioning bathroom in a tent. The shower itself was five foot square and tiled in blue on three sides, and under foot as well. There were pictures of mermaids and mermen dotted all over the place that Harry assumed had once moved, but the magic appeared to have worn off long ago. The front side though was totally clear, but thanks to a specialised shield charm, that was thankfully still operating, the water stayed within the shower.

Still a little self conscious Harry removed his dressing gown and hung it on the single peg. It was joined shortly by Hermione’s. Not having a wand of his own he watched as she activated the shower and stepped in through the active water shield. He watched as the water began to pour down her body in a mini torrent between her breasts. He’d never thought of himself as a voyeur, but the sight of Hermione lathering up a bar of soap, and then spreading it up and down her outstretched arms made him decided that it wasn’t such a bad thing to be when the view was this good.

“Are you going to stand there watching, or do you plan on joining me?” Hermione asked. “The water won’t last for ever.”

“I was hoping for a little of both,” Harry answered.

“Why don’t you get in here and wash my back … and anywhere else you fancy.” Harry decided there wasn’t anywhere that he didn’t fancy having a go at washing. With excitement growing again in his loins he passed through the water shield, ignoring the faint tingling feeling it gave, and stood behind Hermione who was bent over now thoroughly soaking her hair. He wondered if she knew what she was doing to him or if bending over like that had been deliberate. He took the soap out of her hand and with slow but firm hands began to soap her back.

In slow circular motions he moved gradually downwards until he was massaging her buttocks. Hermione showed her pleasure by pressing back and gyrating her hips her head still under the water. When Harry slipped a soap covered hand around her hips and along her inner thigh Hermione’s breathing began to increase as she was turned on. He moved further up and over running his fingers through her pubic hairs, until he grazed her clit. Hermione leapt upwards her dripping hair spraying water all over Harry.

“Oh god Harry you hit the spot,” she gasped out. Up until that moment Harry had been relatively dry. That was now no longer the case, but Harry didn’t care. With Hermione now upright he stood right behind her his arms round her waist. Ignoring the cascading water he kissed her where her neck joined her shoulder. At the same time one hand returned to stroke her clit while the other found and began to massage a breast.

Hermione moaned in pleasure giving into Harry’s ministrations never had she needed a shower so badly, or enjoyed one so much. She was starting to regret the one off Christmas special rule she’d suggested. Going back to not having sex was going to be difficult to achieve, especially with the source of her pleasure just a few steps away. Already she wanted him to be inside her sending her to another mind bending orgasm.

“Harry we need to get clean before the hot water runs cold.” She hated saying it, she was enjoying what he was doing far too much, but neither did she want a sudden burst of cold water to ruin the mood. Harry mumbled something that was lost in the noise of the water. When he didn’t stop what he was doing, and Merlin knows she didn’t want him to, Hermione turned round so she was facing him.

To Hermione’s surprise what followed was more intimate than all the sex they’d had before. Having her hair washed by Harry, and washing his in return became a very personnel and intimate thing. If she was honest with herself their friendship deepened further from this simple act more than any other that day. They had barely washed the last of the soap off each other’s bodies before the hot water ran tepid making them both leap out of the shower.

Still turned on by Harry’s actions in the shower Hermione didn’t dry herself off as completely as she normally would. They tumbled back onto her bed again, and she realised that she’d rarely been out of it today. The whole day had been a revelation to her. What some might call a voyage of self discovery, but she didn’t believe in such airy fairy notions. Harry meanwhile was playing obsessive attention to her breasts and nipples. It wasn’t that she wasn’t enjoying it, but her body was yearning to be touched lower down.

In the end she could wait no longer and she began to stroke herself between her legs in a desperate hope that she could relieve the frustration that was growing. Her move was noticed by Harry who cruelly grabbed her wrist and pinned it to the bed. She couldn’t hold in the moan of frustration.

“All in good time,” Harry growled. In much the same way as she had done to him Harry slowly worked her way down her body kissing it as he went. The tension was driving her over the edge she knew where he was heading but she wanted him there now. When he reached her lower stomach and his chin brushed the top of her quim she pushed her buttocks up in a vain attempt to be touched again. When Harry’s tongue touched her outer lips for the first time it would be like no other. The whole newness of it sent electric shock waves throughout her body, and she arched her whole body crying out.

“Oh my god!” Hermione was clenching and unclenching her fists trying to regain some self control. It was as though she was on fire, but that was as nothing compared to the feeling when the tongue found her clit. Her hips bucked of their own accord forcing Harry to stop his much needed attentions. When he didn’t return to the exact same spot she let out another moan of frustration.

“Not there Harry … further up, a little more please,” she gasped. “Oh god yes that’s it just there, keep doing that.” Time seemed to stop still as Harry did exactly as she had asked. The orgasm when it ripped through her was as powerful as any of the others that she had had today, and she had to pull Harry away when it became too much to bear.

“That was good then?”

“Way better than good. What can I do for you?” Hermione could still feel her insides trembling. She didn’t think much of sport, but sex was a much better way to get exercise.

“Well you don’t have to if you don’t want to but I’d like to take you from behind.”

“You mean doggy style.”

“I guess.” Hermione nearly laughed at Harry’s expression, it was as though he had asked for something wicked and dirty. Considering all that they had done today she found his embarrassment rather touching. She didn’t bother replying. Instead she rolled over and got on all fours with her legs apart. When Harry shuffled in behind her she felt herself getting wet again in anticipation. However things didn’t go smoothly as Harry struggled to find her dripping hole.

“Hermione I don’t think …” Hermione reached back and guided him in.

“Oh hell that feels good,” she cried out as he slipped his whole length into her. This felt far deeper than the other times he had penetrated her. With his hands gripping her thighs Harry gave a small grunt each time he moved in and out. His taut stomach slapped her arse with each inward stroke sending a shudder through her body. Despite just having come Hermione knew that she wasn’t far from yet another orgasm. A small part of her mind told her she was insatiable and should be ashamed of herself.

She ignored that part.

Harry kept on going and Hermione couldn’t imagine how he was managing it. Her own muscles were protesting at the pounding she was getting and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold herself up. When the orgasm began despite her best efforts she collapsed flat on the bed gasping as Harry followed her down. She heard someone shouting out and dimly realised that it was her. When she felt Harry spurt into her, her body began to jump about out of control.

“Hells bells,” Harry said breathing heavily. “Are you all right?” The power of speech seemed to have temporary left Hermione and all she could do was raise one arm weakly. She shuddered from an after shock and when Harry moved she quickly closed her legs to stop him withdrawing. She wanted to hold onto this feeling for as long as she could.

“Harry we are going to have to do this again sometime,” she eventually said. “I don’t think I can continue if this is the last time.” Harry didn’t reply but rolled to one side and lay down beside her slipping out once more, much to her disappointment. The silence lay heavily between them and Hermione knew that Harry’s thoughts mirrored her own. Never would she have believed that sex with Harry have been so powerful and mind blowing, and yet they just didn’t love each other in the happy ever after way that she suspected he might with Ginny.

That they loved each other wasn’t in doubt. They just never spoke about it. If they got together as a couple the sex would be out of this world, but there was more to life than that, and she knew that she would drive him bonkers after a while, and in return he would frustrate her to insanity if they were under each others feet all the time. The idea that they would never experience what they had today again though wasn’t one she wanted to contemplate.

“The thought that this might be it doesn’t appeal to me either, but there’s more at stake than you and me.”

“I know but if we promised each other that this wouldn’t be the last time that might help.”

“Alright how about next Christmas, if we can arrange it.”

“That might be tough,” Hermione said, “but ok and we have to be in a tent with snow on the ground.”

“Hmmm that doesn’t sound too likely, but alright at least this way we can kid ourselves that there’s a chance.” Harry lifted himself up on one elbow and smiled at a well ruffled Hermione. “Do you want to know something, when you’ve been well and truly shagged you look stunningly beautiful.”

“You Harry Potter are a bit of alright yourself,” she said smiling back running a hand through his hair. She liked doing that. “Are we weird?”

“What do you mean?”

“How can we be so close to each other, and yet not want to be boyfriend girlfriend like so many have assumed we are in the past?” This had bothered her on more than one occasion.

“I don’t know, maybe it has something to do with all the trouble we’ve been in together over the years. The Ministry fiasco in fifth year for example changed the way I thought about Luna and Neville forever.”

“But you haven’t jumped into bed with Neville or Luna.”

“Well no, and no offence to him, but I don’t think I ever would. Neville’s a bloke, and that’s not even a remote possibility.”

“And Luna?”

“Luna, well Luna is well Luna. What about you don’t you feel differently about Luna after having fought beside her?” Hermione bit her bottom lip as she searched her feeling about the strange illogical Ravenclaw.

“I think I see what you’re trying to say Harry. In fact I’ve read about something similar. Soldiers become closer to each other once they’ve been in battle together. It goes beyond a normal friendship it becomes a special almost spiritual bond.”

“Except they don’t end up sleeping with each other like we have.”

“Well no, but then as most soldiers are men I expect they feel about it the same way you do about Neville, but as I’m not a bloke then I guess we’ve expressed our … our love for each other physical.” Harry lay back silently and Hermione let him soak up what they had said to each other.

“It makes a strange sort of logic,” he said after a long pause.

The two of them spent the next hour quietly talking, more comfortable in each others company that they had ever been. The trauma of the last few months pushed to one side for the moment.

“I think I’d better get back on guard,” Harry said after awhile. Christmas break was over and it was time to get back to the real word. Putting on his clothes, he had to find a new shirt that had all its buttons intact, Harry avoided looking directly at Hermione in case she tried to change his mind. He was about to go to the tent’s opening when he realised with a pang that he needed her wand.

“Hermione I need your wand.”

“Of course Harry.” She had been getting dressed as well and was busy digging into her beaded bag pulling out a book that Harry recognised as the one Rita Skeeter had written about Dumbledore.

“So where should we go tomorrow?” he asked avoiding the temptation to say something nasty about the book in her hand. That would only spoil the mood.

“I thought we’d go to the Forest of Dean. I went camping there with my parents.”

“Fine I’ll wake you up later then.”

“Ok Harry … oh and Harry thanks for Christmas.”

“I’m never going to think of Christmas in the same way again. Thanks Hermione, and Happy Christmas.”

One more chapter to go.