With The First Ray Of Light

February 17th, 2000

Hermione sat at the very back of the room, in the last row of chairs, almost against the wall. Ron and Harry were sitting to her left, talking animatedly. About what, she had no idea. Remus and Tonks were sitting on her other side. They had tried to pull her into the conversation a few times, but had finally desisted. She was too lost in her own nervous thoughts to follow any kind of conversation. In fact, it was taking all she had to just sit still and not fidget or wiggle her hands together, but keep them on her lap. Stopping herself from nibbling anxiously on her lower lip was simply beyond what she was capable of.

As she waited in silence, she wondered why she was so very nervous. She was usually in control of her emotions, and there was really no reason for her to feel that way, she was just… No, who was she trying to fool? She knew exactly why she felt as if her body was trying to crawl out of her skin, why her heart was all but hammering in her chest, why she felt that fluttering inside her stomach. She knew now why she felt that way. Just like, deep down, she had known it for the past two days, no matter how hard she tried to fool herself, to ignore the facts. She hadn’t had a moment’s peace since she heard there would soon be an Order meeting and that the Aurors had finally returned from their mission.

Kingsley. That was the reason behind her feelings.

Just thinking of his name sent shivers down her skin, but she couldn’t quite decide if it was a good feeling, or a bad one.

She hadn’t seen him in almost a month, not since the night when they’d gone on that mission together, not since they’d…

As if summoned by her very thoughts, the door to the drawing room opened, and five Aurors marched inside, sitting on the first row of seats without a glance around. A second later Kingsley walked in, going straight to where Dumbledore was sitting. The Auror stopped by the chair and leaned down to say something, his voice so low she didn’t think anyone else in the room would be able to hear.

She watched, as silent as everyone else in the room, as Kingsley spoke to Dumbledore, saw the old wizard nod a few times, then say something in return. Kingsley frowned, shook his head, and spoke again. A few moments later, Dumbledore nodded and stood up. Every head in the room turned to follow Dumbledore’s movements as he walked to the front of the room, but she only had eyes for Kingsley.

Hermione watched him as he stood tall again, her breath catching in her throat as she waited for him to turn around towards the room, wondering what would happen, what he would do when he saw her. But he did nothing, he looked at no one; he merely sat on the chair Dumbledore had just vacated and turned to watch the old wizard, like everyone else had.

She couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed, but she wasn’t sure exactly why. What had she expected Kingsley to do? She honestly had no idea. Part of her had hoped he would say something, or at least acknowledge her, and another part feared he would do just that. Why did things always get so complicated? She had spent countless hours with Kingsley over the last few months as he trained her, and she had gotten to know him well enough that she had felt comfortable in thinking of him as a friend. A friend she had been attracted to, yes, but then again, who wouldn’t be attracted to a man like him?

But it hadn’t been his deep voice, or the strength of his arms, or his tall, muscled figure, or his broad back that had attracted her most. He was smart, and brave, and he always made her laugh. He had taught her so much about magic, shared so much with her about the truth of battles, about life. She had valued him as a friend, someone she trusted implicitly, and now she was afraid all that would be lost. It had been a foolish mistake; they had been overtaken by the adrenaline after the fight with the Death Eaters, so much tension in them needing a release. They had just acted on an impulse, she had acted on an impulse, and now she didn’t know what that would do to their friendship, and there was little she hated more than not knowing something.

As her mind went over all the possible ways this could end badly, all the things that could go wrong whether they decided to go back to how things had been, or accept the changes in their relationship, Dumbledore told the rest of the Order the details of what she and Kingsley had found out about the Death Eaters that night, and explained the basics of the mission he had sent Kingsley and his team on afterwards.

When the wizard finished his explanation, Kingsley stood up again and walked to stand next to him. With a smile he whispered something to Dumbledore, before turning to the rest of the room, his voice loud now as he went over the events of the last three weeks for the rest of the Order members. He looked at everyone in the room as he gave his report, and eventually his eyes met hers.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment too long, but not enough for anyone else to notice, or so she hoped. In fact, that slightly lingering stare and small hesitation in his speech when their eyes met were the only signs of acknowledgement he gave. She was almost sure no one else would notice, or think anything of it, they were good friends, after all, but she could feel the weight, the heat of his stare on her skin, as if it were something physical, and she found herself squirming in her seat before finally looking away. Another second of him watching her in that way and she knew she’d start blushing furiously. That was something her friends probably would notice.

By the time she gathered the courage to look up again, his gaze was once more moving across the room, but the corners of his lips were lifted in the ghost of a smirk that she knew hadn’t been there before.

He continued talking as if nothing had happened, and she continued to pretend she was listening, but how could she pay attention to his words when the sound of his voice alone was enough to make her shiver, when she could think of nothing but the way his chest had vibrated against her body that night with every word he spoke? Memories of their time together rushed to her mind, more vivid than ever before, to the point that she could almost feel his touch against her skin.

For weeks now, she had been going through what had come to pass that night, but always under a different, more clinical light. She had thought back on those ‘events’ trying to understand what had happened, how they’d gone from the rush of the battle to something so primal, so passionate between them. She had been on missions many times before with other witches and wizards, had come close to getting caught, or killed, but it had never led to anything even close to what she and Kingsley had done. The rush, the excitement, had never become something sensual. Sexual. Not until Kingsley.

She had to admit she hadn’t been attracted to the others, though. Well, perhaps Ron, for a time, but it had been more of an almost platonic romantic interest than something physical, even though it had gotten physical a few times. Not things she cared to remember, though. But still, she wasn’t even sure she was really attracted to Kingsley in that way, was she? Yes, he was tall, and handsome, and strong, and she had spent more than a fair amount of time watching him move during training sessions with a grace she wouldn’t have thought possible for someone his size, watched his muscles flex and relax as he moved, watched that amazing smile form on his face whenever one of his curses hit its target, or when she aced something he had just taught her, and those little wrinkles appear by his eyes when he laughed or was really happy.

All right, who was she trying to fool? She had been, was, attracted to Kingsley, but she had never given it much thought, not until that night.

And then, before they’d even had a chance to feel that mandatory awkwardness around each other after what had happened, before they even had time to talk about it, he’d had to leave.

“We’ll talk soon,” was all he’d managed to say as the Order made preparations to send him and a team of Aurors after the Death Eaters they’d found, and barely a few hours after he’d kissed her, he’d been gone. Until now.

So really, it was only normal that she felt nervous. She’d had sex with a good friend, someone she trusted and cared about, and she still had no idea how that would change their relationship.

Apparently, she had been mulling over it all for too long, because when movement next to her brought her mind back to the present she realised the meeting was over, and everyone there was already getting up and making their way out of the room. She had no idea what the outcome of the mission had been, but it couldn’t have been bad; they were all back at headquarters and safe, after all.

She hesitated for a moment as she got up, wondering if she should sneak out of the room and act as if nothing was different, or be brave and go over to where Kingsley was standing and discuss it. She chanced a glance in his direction and saw he was once again talking to Dumbledore. With a small sigh of relief she decided he had made that choice for her; he was busy, she’d have to go with Harry and Ron. She could always talk to him later on, if things between them seemed tense or awkward. But then, just as she made up her mind, just when she was a step away from the doorway, he called her name.

“Hermione, could you wait a moment, please?”

She stopped walking and turned around, doing her best to keep her expression blank and the nervousness at bay as she spoke. “Actually, we were just-”

“It’ll only be a moment,” he insisted with his usual smile before she could finish making up an excuse, then turning to Dumbledore again. She looked at Ron and Harry, hoping they would help her get away, but they simply shrugged and continued on their way to the kitchen, leaving her to wait for Kingsley.

She tried to use the little time she had to sort out her ideas, now that it was clear he wanted to talk. She needed to decide what she would say, how she would act, but it wasn’t an easy thing to do, not when part of her wanted to forget anything had ever happened, to preserve their friendship, while the other part yearned so desperately for his touch.

After a few minutes of making a mental list of all the good and bad things that could come with each choice, relying on her logic to sort out her problems, Dumbledore’s, “Goodbye,” brought her back to reality, to Kingsley slowly making his way closer to her. She managed to mutter a goodbye of her own in return, and waited until she heard the door close before looking at the man now standing in front of her.

“Hi,” he said, his smile as hesitant as hers for a moment, before that aura of self confidence surrounded him again. “So, how’ve things been around here lately?” he asked, and she almost sighed in relief at the easy topic he had chosen.

“Just meetings and more meetings,” she said with a small shrug, a part of her hoping the fact that he had chosen such a simple and normal question meant he also wanted things to go back to the way they used to be. Because that’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? “Seems it’s everything we do here, as of late.”

“And how’ve you been?”

“I…” She hesitated for a second, then decided to follow his lead and continue as if it were just another simple question, taking it as she would have if the conversation had taken place a month before then. “I’ve spent most of my time training, actually. Moody’s taught me a few very interesting curses I can’t wait to try out for real.”

“That’s not what I-” he started, then took a deep breath. “I think we need to talk,” he said. Then added, “About what happened that night,” as if he needed to make his meaning clear.

She forced her lips into a nonchalant smile as she said, “There’s nothing to talk about, we were both…” she hesitated, searching for the right words, “We were high on adrenaline after the fight, and things simply got out of hand. You don’t have to worry about-”

He took a step closer to her then, a small step, but enough to cause a reaction in her she hadn’t expected. The words she was trying to say died on her lips as she looked up into his eyes, her heart beating faster and faster at just having him so close. He tilted his head to the side, his expression thoughtful as he watched her with an intensity that made her breath catch. She knew he was analyzing her response to his actions, knew he was aware of the effect his closeness seemed to have on her, but there was nothing she could do to control it.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, making her shiver slightly. “Perhaps things did get out of hand, but I don’t think it was just the rush of the battle that caused it.”

She opened her mouth to speak, licked her suddenly dry lips, then tried again. “I don’t think…” she started, but just then he leaned forward, his lips just a breath away from hers, and words were suddenly forgotten.

His lips twitched in a smile at her reaction, and he whispered, “Yes?”

It took her a few moments to understand what he meant, to remember they were actually in the middle of a conversation, that she had been trying to say something. Finally, she managed to whisper, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

He took another step forward, forcing her to move back to keep the distance between them. “What isn’t?” he asked in that same low voice, his lips still oh so close. But she couldn’t bring herself to tilt her head back. It was taking all she had just not to lean forward.

Why did he keep asking her questions while standing so very close to her? Didn’t he realise she could barely think with him there? Just then his smile broadened.

Oh, no, he knew. That smug smile on those full, oh so kissable lips of his made it clear he was fully aware of the effect he had on her.

“What happened that night was…” she started again. “We’d just gotten away from the Death Eaters, and…” He took another step forward, she took another step back. He was standing so close to her that she could feel the heat of his skin, even though they were still not touching. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on what she was saying and not on the desire to run her hands down his firm chest again, feel his muscles tense under her touch as they…

“The adrenaline?” he said, a hint of amusement now in his tone.

She tried to reply, but her lips were again too dry, and her throat seemed to refuse to let through any sound more complex than a moan. She didn’t think that was the smartest sound to make when she was trying to reason with him. She licked her lips, opened her mouth, and then settled for a short nod.

“Is that why you think it happened?” he asked, and she nodded again, a little too fast. “I see.”

He was silent for a few seconds, but she could still hear him breathing inches away from her, so she knew he hadn’t moved. A second later she felt his breath warm against her neck, and she closed her eyes even tighter, balled her hands into fists and willed her body still when all she wanted was to reach out to him.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said, his voice making her breath catch. “But still…” he whispered, taking one last step forward, this time pushing her back not with hands but with his body, until she was trapped between him and the wall. “We haven’t just returned from a fight.” She felt his breath against the corner of her mouth now, and she could barely stop a whimper from slipping through her lips. “There’s no adrenaline pumping in our veins.” Her eyes opened of their own free will, and her gaze shot to his mouth just as his tongue darted out, slowly licking his lips. “And still,” he whispered with a wicked smile, tilting his head closer, “you’re dying for me to kiss you, aren’t you?”

His lips were on hers the next second, his kiss hungry and passionate, and this time she did whimper as she gave in and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him for all she was worth.

Somewhere in her mind she knew she should pull back, knew she should break the kiss and explain to him all the reasons why what had happened that night should never happen again, but there was something in his touch that seemed to shut that part of her brain down. She couldn’t think with him so close, not when his tongue was moving around hers in that wicked way, not when his teeth were nibbling on her lower lip, not when he was kissing her neck, then biting, and certainly not when his hands were on her hips, pulling her flush against him and letting her feel just how hard he was for her.

One of his hands moved to her hair, yanking her head back hard enough to make her cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain as he forced her to tilt her head and meet his gaze while his hips moved against hers. His breathing was hard, and his eyes were burning with desire, and that was what her world had been reduced to. Kingsley. His body. His touch. Her need for it all.

He kissed her again as he slipped one of his legs between hers, moving his thigh against her core and providing the friction that she so desperately needed as he kept rocking against her, his hand slipping under her shirt to reach for her breast, squeezing lightly, then teasing her nipple, caressing, twisting, the mixture of soft and rough touches pushing her closer to the edge.

She moaned his name as her body arched into him, her hips now moving against his thigh as her arm snaked between them, fumbling slightly as she undid his trousers. Then she slipped her hand inside, wrapping her fingers around him as she moved her hand up and down firmly, her other arm moving to his neck, pulling him closer when he broke the kiss, needing to feels his lips against hers, needing to touch as much of him as she could.

Then he tensed against her and he was coming, his hips jerking faster, the change in rhythm enough to push her over the edge, and she found herself biting Kingsley’s shoulder through his robes to stop the scream the orgasm ripped from her throat.

“Fuck,” he almost growled, resting his forehead on the wall as he tried to control his breathing, his hips still moving slowly against her hand. She closed her eyes again as she leaned forward against him, pressing her head against his chest, hearing his heartbeats gradually slow down.

“They’re going to be wondering what’s taking us so long,” Kingsley said after what felt like hours.

“Probably,” she managed to reply through dry lips as she pulled her hand out of his pants.

She felt his fingers on her chin as he tilted her head up so he could see her face. He was silent for a few seconds as he watched her, studying her face like he had many times before, trying to guess what she was thinking. Finally, he leaned forward and kissed her. “Next time,” he said as he nibbled on her lip, “I’m taking my time with you.” His tone made it sound half a threat and half a promise, and she shivered at the wicked thoughts that came with his words as she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him again. His hand moved from her jaw, down her arm, and then away, and a few seconds later she felt the tingling on her skin from what she knew was a cleaning charm. Without another word, Kingsley stepped away from her, smiled that sexy smile that made her tingle, and reached for the door.

There were still things they had to talk about, decisions they had to make. She knew where she stood; she didn’t want a relationship, not when they were trying to live through a war, not when there were other things she had to focus on, and she was sure Kingsley understood that. But still she wanted him so badly it was hard to think of anything else with him near.

“Shall we?” Kingsley asked, his voice instantly catching her attention and pushing all those thoughts away. With a deep breath she nodded and hastily pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail, doing her best to straighten her clothes before stepping out of the room.

It was difficult to worry about the future with her breathing still slightly ragged and her muscles weak from the orgasm he had given her. She might regret what had just happened by tomorrow, or perhaps even before then, but for now she’d just stop worrying. She’d allow herself to feel good, even if it was only for a little while.