A Week with Hermione
Chapter 8: Saturday
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Chapter 8: Saturday
Hermione’s father. “Honey?”
“Hermione, are you awake dear?” her mother chimed in.
Harry had just enough time to register that he was lying
next to Hermione in her bed, both naked and barely covered by the disarray of
her bed sheets, when panic filled him.
He jolted out of bed, startling Hermione awake.
clothes. He found them cluttered along
the edge of the carpet amid the crash of books and trinkets still dashed
against the wall from the mysterious burst they must have emitted the day
before. Already the sound of shoes
clopping down the hallway could be heard and Hermione scrambled for her own
discarded garments. Neither of them had
time to put on anything before a tall figure loomed in the doorway.
what stood before him.
Her mother followed quickly on his heals and let out a
scream of shock and no doubt dismay when she registered the scene.
Harry didn’t shoot up in bed, but his eyes split open and
his heart was racing. He was beginning
to really hate dreams like that. He was
lying in bed with Hermione still asleep and wrapped around his right side.
by the disarray of her bed sheets. The
room was dark but sunlight filtered in through Hermione’s window blinds.
slept. They must have finally passed out
from the exhaustion of constant, wonderful sex sometime in the middle of
yesterday. Somehow, Harry was pretty
sure it was Saturday now, sometime in the morning, and he moved his body gently
to search out Hermione’s alarm clock. He
spotted it still overturned on Hermione’s nightstand and crammed against the
wall corner with her lamp and some framed photographs, all gathered and bunched
together. Trying not to wake her, Harry
slowly rose and stretched to reach it.
When he did, and saw that it was indeed a little after seven in the
morning--they must have slept something like sixteen hours!--, Hermione began
to stir. It wasn’t long before her
eyelids parted and fluttered open, showing the beautiful liquid crystal consciousness
of her eyes beneath.
A smile spread on her cheeks, now pale from sleep, “Morning,
sexy.”
The way she said it made Harry grin, and made his heart skip
a little. It was so adult, so familiar
now. They were so comfortable with each
other in a deep way Harry never fathomed was possible.
care and feeling, and absently stroked her shoulder and stray tresses of her
hair.
He pulled back, smiling openly to her, “Morning yourself,
beautiful. Cor, I’m thirsty!”
“Me too!” Hermione nodded sleepily then yawned.
Harry kissed her again, he couldn’t stop doing it!
course.”
Hermione grinned devilishly and a deep, throaty laugh escaped
her throat. But before she could answer,
the sound of a car engine was rising up the street and came to a quick humming
stall most definitely in the Granger driveway.
The two looked at each other wide-eyed.
If Harry’s dream was a possible premonition, it was a thankful one.
their respective garments before Harry ran naked out of Hermione’s room.
Hermione followed shortly after.
the hall bathroom! Start the shower and
everything will look normal! I hope.”
Harry nodded wordlessly, and as he made it into the hall
bathroom he heard the clanky key-in-lock sound and closed and locked the bathroom
door. He turned the shower on just as he
heard the front door open. Thankfully,
he was now hidden by the timeless anonymity and privacy of the loud shower
spray. Harry relaxed and placed his
clothes on the laundry basket by the toilet before stepping into the shower and
cleaning himself in earnest. While he
washed his body, Harry went through the previous day and checked off any
possible signs of suggestion they may have left behind in the house and was
pretty sure they took care and cleanedafteafter themselves.
day-long lovemaking, remembering every detail to further impress it all into
his mind. He entertained a moment of
panic at the blasted mess in Hermione’s room, but felt that they could
sufficiently chalk it up to Harry’s weird and spontaneous emotionally-triggered
magical outbursts. In a way, that’s
probably what it was. He marveled over
the previous day and got lost again in the pleasant and unique memories of the
excitement they felt when they fell into each other.
seemed to have felt Hermione when she climaxed, how he found himself in her
head at those moments, Harry was pretty certain it happened to Hermione
too. No doubt she fell into his head as
well, the connection was just that close, and he would be sure to ask her about
it when next they had a private moment.
As he was finishing up, Harry spent the last moments of his
shower calming his mind. When he got out
of the shower and toweled himself dry, he worked on putting on a veneer of
genial humor and simple surprise. Once
he was dry and dressed he did what he could with the black mess of his hair--as
always--and stepped outside the still steamy bathroom.
When he walked out into the hallway and shortly through the
kitchen threshold, he was greeted by three smiling faces, two adults and one
Hermione. Hermionviouviously finished
her shower first and was dressed comfortably with her hair still wet.
kitchen table, chatting idly. Harry
greeted them with a genuine smile.
“Morning!” he said.
“Morning!” All three returned.
Harry, Hermione snuck a wink at him, which he wished he could have returned
inconspicuously.
“Sleep well, Harry?” Mr. Granger asked cheerfully.
“Yes,” Mrs. Granger spoke up.
winks of sleep, but both of you were in the shower when we got in.
Now you kids didn’t do anything you weren’t supposed to do while we were
gone, did you?” She grinned.
Harry and Hermione both laughed a little too loudly.
take us for?”
Harry grabbed a seat next to Hermione, who spoke again to
swiftly change the subject. “I was just
telling Mum and Dad about our rather harrowing week.
imed ced condition. I’m so relieved!”
“So are we, we can tell you,” said Mr. Granger.
here. Harry how are you feeling?”
How to answer that question.
The truth was infinitely more complex considering the deep personal
connection he had made with Hermione over the past week, and especially the day
before--the fruit of years of silent longing, Harry now realized.
been tainting his mind over most of the summer.
Yet now…it was lighter. It wasn’t
so much that he had forgotten the bad feelings and the tightness in his chest
that he was so used to by now. It seemed
rather that a good amount of it had lifted.
though, and would have to examine it further.
In the mean time.
“I’m feeling alright, I suppose.
rest easier.” And this was true.
“Voldemort is out there still,” Harry continued.
don’t have to face him or these feelings.....alone.”
“Smart lad,” Mr. Granger replied.
the Ministry of Magic--indeed the entire Wizarding world--against Voldemort and
looking for him, you’re safer than you think.
Especially with your return to Hogwarts and under Dumbledore’s watchful
eye.”
“Speaking of Hogwarts,” Mrs. Granger interrupted.
today. We’ll need to get you to the
train station by this early afternoon so that you can be nice and settled back
at school.”
Harry and Hermione agreed silently and the conversation
continued while Mrs. Granger fixed breakfast.
After being stuffed with buttered muffins, Hermione left to her room to
gather her things and Harry did the same in the living room.
and searched the house for his various accoutrements, including cleaning out
the hall bathroom of his toiletries.
While Harry was finishing up, and Mr. and Mrsangeanger went
back outside to unload their luggage, Hermione innocently called Harry back to
her room. Everything in her room was
orderly again and he saw when he walked in that any items he had left there,
such as books or his wand, were set in a neat little pile by her bed.
Hermione peaked through her bedroom window blinds to make
sure her parents were still outside struggling with the remaining luggage in
their trunk. Satisfied that they were,
she turned to give Harry a relieved smile.
“That was so close!”
“Tell me about it,” Harry said.
fast…..except for yesterday.”
Hermione giggled.
“You’re sweet.” Then she paused
and stared at Harry, who returned the look.
Finally she spoke. “That was
wonderful, Harry. All of it.”
“It was,” Harry said contemplatively.
“I love you too, Harry.”
Harry reached for her hand and they sat down simultaneously
on the corner of her bed. They kissed, a
short and sweet message, and then sat holding hands in silence for a while
until they heard the front door open and the commotion of Hermione’s parents.
wouldn’t be the last time they would sit in loving silence holding hands and
kissing, not at all.
The rest of the day came with a grateful amount of normalcy
and routine. Har>Harry, Hermione, and her
parents loungnd tnd talked for a few hours, laughed and joked.
casual around each other the whole time, fully relaxed.
car with Hogwarts luggage and piled in for the long trip to the station.
On the road, when Mr. and Mrs. Granger were consumed in the
traffic and directions and chatting between themselves, in the backseat Hermione
scooted closer to Harry and leaned her head on his shoulder.
eyes and sighed, even though she obviously wasn’t tired.
mind just as he had fallen into hers at the height of their almost cosmic
ecstasy. Wait, perhaps it wasn’t
that. Perhaps it was more accurate to
say that they did in fact become one, their selves merging along with the
sensation. And Harry was fine with that,
happy and hopeful about it.
At one point, Mrs. Granger looked over her shoulder at the
two of them to make sure they were okay in a logic that made sense only to
mothers. When she saw them cuddled next
to each other, Hermione’s head on Harry’s shoulder and his head on hers, a
vague look of alarm flitted across her face.
Harry looked right at her and saw her relax and the ghost of a smile
replaced the temporary moment of concern.
There was understanding in her eyes.
Harry didn’t know what kind.
Could she tell? How deep is a
mother’s intuition? She recognized a
truth in their sweet, relaxed pose though, and what’s more, she accepted
it. Whatever she knew, as much or as
little, that little part of her that recognized something there was satisfied
with it, glad for it even. At least
Harry was want to speculate. A smile
passed between him and Mrs. Granger and then she faced forward and returned to
the traffic and quiet conversation with her husband.
She did see something.
Harry felt his own intuition awaken at the knowledge.
A connection. And Harry felt it
too, something as old as the stardust and magic that made up his body; older
still. Harry smiled, he knew what it
was. It was sappy and true and greater
than love, it was the deepest of human connections, and he had it now with
Hermione; something that could not be lost.
He would feel it constantly now.
It would be there when they arrived at the train station, when they
arrived at Hogwarts, when they would have to temporarily part ways--a true
moment of agony it will be--to fill in their respective quarters.
that would continue to grow between them as they would plan secret liaisons and
hidden kisses. It would be there when they
graduated. It would be there when
Voldemort came. That dark cloud was not
gone but it was no longer so threatening or so terrible.
the magic that has protected him all these years, given to him by his mother.
ahead in the black times yet to come--and they would come--he would face them
with all the confidence and strength in the world because he had Hermione, and
she had him. They were one and and
always would be.
And that was the most powerful thing in the world.
The End.
Author’s Note: The end.
Wow, that took longer than it should have.
39 pages long total, and which I could have started and finished during one
feverish weekend. I would like to thank
all of you readers, faithful and new, who have complimented and criticized this
endeavor. And I’d like to infinitely
apologize for taking so long to complete it, especially taking exactly 364 days
(1 day shy of a complete year!) to finish this last chapter, which comes to
less than five pages. In many ways this
venture was very much removed from my usual lifestyle, as those of you know who
have actually cared to read my boring author’s notes.
feel greatly rewarded that I have completed it, given that I am of the type
that has trouble finishing things once I start them.
fanfic, and quite possibly my last. I
have two other story ideas, one that’s short enough to possibly churn out in a
good day of writing--at least a rough draft.
The other, however, is a bigger idea than I have the inspiration
for. But who knows; maybe Book 6 will
bring it out of me. In either case, this
exists and I am happy for it. I hope you
have enjoyed this final chapter--as well as the story as a whole--and that the
ending satisfies you as it does me. Happy
Casting.