Running Away

Harry’s house was nice, and cute. That is the only way Hermione could think to describe it, definetly not the house she would see the most famous wizard ever born to live in, but she loved it. The house fit Harry so well. All he ever wanted was a normal life and that is what this house represented, a normal life. It was in a muggle neighborhood, not far from the hidden magical world of Diagon Alley.

It was two stories and had a huge fenced in back yard. Hermione had held onto Harry’s arm until they had reached the front porch. He had pulled his arm away to fish for his keys in his pocket. He unlocked the door and ushered her in, his hand finding the small of her back. The simple touch sent chills up her spine. She walked into the dark house and jumped when Harry closed the door behind her. He turned the lights on and Hermione got her first sight at the inside.

He had the typical male decorating stigma. Not much color, magazines on the coffee table, and Quidditch memorabilia strewn on the walls. The thing that warmed her heart the most was right in the entry way, a picture of Harry, Ron and her from their third year in Hogwarts. She smiled at how young they all looked and it faded, remembering how much had changed after that year. And next to it, a picture of Lilly and James, dancing around a fountain.

“ I know it’s not much, but it reminds me of Godric’s Hollow, or how it must have been when my parents lived in it. It is all I really need.” Harry walked into the living room and tossed his keys onto the coffee table.

“I think it’s marvelous. It’s still weird to think we’ve grown so much, that we own homes and shops and work for a living. I can still remember what it was like back then.” Hermione pointed to the photograph on the wall, and turned to Harry. He smiled to her, and motioned for her to come into the living room.

“Please make yourself at home. I’ll go and get some tea on. I’m sure there is at least one educational magazine amongst all the Quidditch ones, you’re more than welcome to take a look.” Harry pointed to the pile on the coffee table and chuckled as he walked around the corner into the kitchen. Hermione lingered a little, taking in the space. She pictured herself living here, if she had come back three years ago. They would have moved in together and she would have helped with the decorating. She pictured a copy of her favorite book next to his magazines or a picture of her parents next the one of Harry’s in the entry way.

Hermione walked to the kitchen and stood quietly in the doorway. She watched Harry move about the kitchen, completely unaware she was watching. He was talking to himself in a low whisper, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. She smiled, as he busily got his finest tea cups out and prepared everything to look nice. Harry was walking back to the counter with the tea canister in his hand when he saw her. He jumped slightly and dropped it to the floor with a loud ‘ting’ sound. Hermione once again rushed to his side.

“Why do you keep making me drop things today?” Harry teased.

“If you weren’t so jumpy, you would be fine. I don’t remember you scaring this easily.” Hermione joked back and knelt down to pick up the canister the same time Harry did. They smacked their heads into one another, and pulled away rubbing the spots that hit. Hermione’s sandals were too slick for Harry’s polished floor and she slid onto her backside. She burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry.” Harry reached out to help her up, and started laughing as he watched her cry from laughing so hard. She took his hand and pulled herself up. They found themselves only inches apart, each feeling the other’s hot breath on their lips. Hermione stared into Harry’s eyes, trying to read what he was thinking. She decided to throw everything into the wind and deal with the consequences later.

Hermione snaked her hand behind Harry’s neck and gently nudged him forward. Their lips touched in a chaste kiss. They pulled away, staring at each other, both waiting for the other to make the next move. Harry pulled her flush against him and crashed his mouth to hers. She opened under him and their tongue’s caressed the other with eager force. Harry’s hands wandered over her back, becoming familiar with her once again. Her other hand came up and into his unruly mane. Harry broke the kiss and began running hot kisses down her neck.

“Harry.” Hermione whispered his name, and he loves how it just rolled off of her tongue. He pushed her back until her bum hit the kitchen table. He reached down and cupped her cheeks in his hands and lifted her onto the table. She spread her legs to him and he settled between them. She worked her hands to the waist of his shirt and pulled it roughly out of his jeans. She touched the bare skin of his back, her fingers lingering a little longer on his shoulder blades. She worked her hands out to the buttons and slowly began to unbutton them as he continued his assault on her neck.

Harry’s hands made their way up her skirt and began massgaing her thighs. Hermione released a throaty moan and Harry instinctly ground his hardness into her. She threw her head back and Harry took the opportunity to run his tongue from her collarbone up her throat. He found her mouth again and kissed her hungrily. He reached around and grabbed her cheeks through her panties and was just about to slip his hands inside, when the tea kettle whistled loudly. Harry shot away from her as if he had been shocked. Hermione nearly rolled backwards off of the table as the sound startled her.

Neither could breath very well. They both stared at the other, waiting for them to say something to break the ice that now found it’s way between them. Harry looked to the ground, and then turned to the stove. He took the kettle off of the burner to silence the kitchen and buttoned his shirt back up. Hermione slid off of the table and straightened her skirt, and looked to the ceiling as if she was searching for the right words to say.

“Milk or sugar?” Harry said in a weak voice. Hermione turned to him with a puzzled look on her face. “Do you want milk or sugar in your tea?” He said, as he turned to see her.

“Oh, umm, both please.” Hermione said, trying her best to act like nothing had happened. Knowing full well if it hadn’t been for that blasted tea kettle she would have just had sex with Harry on his kitchen table. ‘So much for taking things slow’, she thought.

Harry turned to her with the cups in his hand. He set them on the kitchen table, and then picked them up.

“How about we enjoy this outside, on the back patio? I find it’s rather hot in here.” Harry said, trying his best not to look at her.

“That would be nice.” Hermione answered and made her way to the back door. She suddenly felt like this would be the longest night of her life.

Harry had a nice patio swing set up on the back landing. She sat down and took her cup as Harry handed it to her. She was disappointed when Harry decided to sit on the edge of the deck instead of on the swing with her.

“Sorry about what happened in there. I said we would take it slow, and I didn’t quite stick to that, did I?” Harry apologized, staring into his back yard.

“I’m the one who kissed you first, you don’t need to apologize. Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you through the shop window. I just needed to get it out of my system, I guess.” Hermione tried to make Harry not feel so bad. And besides, she was telling the truth, she had the urge to jump him from the minute she saw him.

“Thanks, Hermione, but I should have been the gentleman. Let’s just forget about it and enjoy the rest of our evening. Besides, you haven’t told me anything about France. Where did you live, what did you do, I want to know it all.” Harry turned to her, and settled in with his back against a post of the landing.

“Well, we lived in Roussillon. It’s a hillside village, most of the wealthy Parisians have their second homes there. It’s got every color house imaginable, from pink to blue to rose. We had a small house on the hilltop. I remember going there when I was little, before Hogwarts, a relative left it to my mother. I spent most of my time writing and reading. I had a job in a book store in town. I loved it.” Hermione talked with such enthusiasm about France that it surprised Harry that she had left.

She continued to talk for the rest of the time that their tea lasted them. She talked about visiting the Basilique St. Seinin cathedral. How she loved the towers there. She had only visited Paris on a few occasions and didn’t much enjoy herself because the people had no sense of manners. She told him of the few times she was able to do magic, but how she mostly lived as a muggle. And when their tea had run out, Harry had suggested they retire for the night. He showed her to his room.

It was simple, and Hermione found that she very much felt like home in it. He had a rather large bed, and she couldn’t blame him after his years on a cot at the Dursley’s. He went to his dresser and pulled out a very familiar red shirt and she smiled to him. He pulled out a pair of boxer shorts as well and set them on the bed for her.

“Your favorite shirt of mine, figured you would want to be comfortable. And a pair of boxers, I heard girls love to wear these things. Don’t really see why, they are just underpants. But if you don’t want to, I have something else.” Harry began to make for his closet, but Hermione grabbed his arm.

“This will be fine. Thank you for making the trouble. I do feel bad that you will be on the couch though.”

“I told you it would be fine. I have to go to the shop in the morning and this way I won’t wake you. I hope you sleep well.” Harry grabbed a change of clothes for the following day and placed them by the door. “Do you just mind if I take a quick shower?” A lump instantly formed in her throat at the thought of Harry in the shower. ‘Only if I can join you’, she thought.

“Not at all.” She managed to get out.

Harry nodded and headed into the bathroom attached to the room. He closed the door and instantly slid down to the floor against it. He couldn’t believe Hermione was just on the other side of that door, about to sleep in his bed and wear his clothes. He decided that a cold shower would help with the current situation in his trowsers, at the thought of Hermione in his bed.

Hermione heard the water start several minutes later and collapsed onto the bed. She stared at the ceiling for what seemed like forever, going over in her head what exactly she thought she was doing here. She was trying to salvage her friendship, she managed to tell herself. ‘That’s why you just about shagged him an hour ago’, she thought. She got up and changed into the clothes he had gotten out and pulled the shirt to her nose and took in the smell she could only describe as Harry.

She hadn’t even noticed the water had shut off and stood in the room with her eyes closed thinking back on the last twelve hours. Harry opened the door and stopped dead in his tracks as he saw her standing there, his boxers a lot shorter than her knee length skirt had been. His eyes raked in her legs, and her tight bum. He looked at the ceiling as he remember he was wearing a pair of pajama pants and nothing else and she would see just what she could do to him. He coughed lightly and brought Hermione out of her daze.

She looked to him and her eyes ran down his toned chest. She remembered how it had felt under her fingers, as he had her propped on the table. She too, looked away as she realized she would soak his boxers with such thoughts, and was too embarrassed for him to realize his effect on her. Harry quickly walked to the door and picked up his pile of clothes.

“Good night. I will be right down the hall if you need anything. See you tomorrow. Please make yourself at home while I’m at the shop.” Harry started to walk out of the door, but turned to smile at her.

“Thank you, Harry, for everything. Night.” Hermione smiled back and Harry closed the door. Harry walked down the hall thinking that this would be a very long, and sleepless night. And as Hermione climbed into his bed, surrounded by the same smell as his shirt, she thought the same thing.