Meant to Last

Harry stood outside the gates of Hogwarts, still flanked by rather extravagant - and rather ugly - winged boars. Hermione had called him there using the fake galleons she'd created for the D.A. - quite handy, now that standard lines of communication like owls were out of the question. Owls were far too traceable.

He'd left Ron at their safe house - Number Twelve Grimmauld Place - where they stayed between searches. The hope was that he'd have a few moments alone with Hermione before they had to depart - whether that meant him leaving her at Hogwarts again or going off to check out another location.

Soon he saw her walking hurriedly down the path, cloaked against the November wind with her wand drawn and ready. Though he would have rather seen her moving easily and without fear, he was very glad to see her at the moment.

"Harry," she said as she drew near. "Jam?"

"Blackberry," he replied promptly.

She grinned back. "Grape."

"Impostor," he accused, though Harry knew that neither of them need ask. Hermione would know him anywhere, and no one could fake the smile on her face so well.

"We need to get somewhere we won't be overheard," she said without preamble. "I think I've got something."

"Let's go back to the house, then," Harry said, grabbing her hand so they could Apparate together.

So much for alone time.

~

Five minutes later, they were settled around the kitchen table with a pot of tea heating on the stove.

"So you've found something?" Ron asked Hermione.

"Yes," she said. "I have an idea what the last horcrux may be."

Harry felt his entire body tense with anticipation. Could this really be it, the missing piece?

"I was thinking about the two objects that he'd found of the Founders - a cup and a locket. They seem quite unrelated, don't they? But then I remembered Gryffindor's sword - a sword, a cup, a locket - like a coin. Reminding you of anything?"

Ron gave her a blank stare, the patent, "You're mental" look. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"No, can't say it is."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry almost laughed at the sight. It was like being back at Hogwarts, having Hermione lecture them over their homework with her little exclamations of, "Oh, honestly, can't you two read?" But the laughter died quickly. Those days were gone, and reminiscing could do no good. Nothing could bring back those times...

But at least Hermione hadn't changed.

"Maybe if you'd paid attention in divination, you'd understand - although, I'd be surprised if Trelawney actually managed to teach you this. They're three of the four suits of tarot."

It was a moment before the idea came together.

"You think the missing object is the fourth suit?"

"Yes. Once I had that idea, I started researching something of Ravenclaw's that might have fit the bill - I finally came across a staff she used to carry, and Harry, I think he got his hands on it. It was last known to be in the hands of a wealthy French collector, but he was killed twenty years ago - the staff was never found amongst his possessions."

Harry sighed. "Sounds about right. Now we just have to figure out where the bloody hell he hid it."

The tea kettle whistled sharply and Hermione went to tend to it. "That's always the hardest part," she said with a note of weariness. "I'll start researching that when I go back, and you two can be brainstorming here."

Carefully, she sat steaming cups of tea in front of them, and it suddenly struck him how much he missed her. Of course he'd longed for her until it had ached while she was away, but having here there in the house again, doing her typical Hermione things, drove home how empty life had been without her.

"Have you two been taking care of yourselves?" she asked in a motherly fashion. "You look thin, Harry."

He couldn't help smiling in his affection for her. "I always look thin, Hermione."

Ron chuckled. "He's got a point, the scrawny bugger. And you sound just like Mum when you're checking up on us."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I can't help it if I care. You're my boys. I have to take care of you."

"Bloody hell, now you're channeling her!"

They all laughed easily - all laughter had been locked up for so long that it was dying to bubble up to the surface, to see the light of day. Now that they were all together again, they couldn't resist.

"I've missed you both," Hermione said. The bittersweet tone of her voice jabbed at his heart just a bit. He didn't want her to go back to that lonely, lifeless school without anyone but a few Aurors to keep her company, to protect her. He wanted her safe by his side, under his careful watch - for he certainly could never keep his eyes off her.

"Don't go back tonight," Harry said on impulse, without caring what his words implied to Hermione or Ron. "You've still got your bedroom here," he continued. "I doubt you're going to get much research done between tonight and tomorrow anyway."

Hermione smiled and nodded. "That sounds really nice, actually. Maybe...maybe it wouldn't hurt for me to stay a few days, even. I did bring a few volumes with me that I thought might be relevant, so we could go over those together...."

Harry grinned, his heart rising as though it were filled with helium. "That sounds even better."

Hermione held his happy gaze for less than a full second, but it was long enough to attract Ron's suspicion. In her subtle way, Hermione shifted Ron's attention to other matters, and Harry could breathe easily again.

It wasn't that they were hiding anything in particular. They'd only managed to kiss a few times in the past few months - when they'd reached a dead end in their search, Hermione had returned to the Hogwarts library almost full time and Harry and Ron returned to Grimmauld Place. There was nothing else to do but turn to what they did best - Hermione researched; Harry and Ron went flying headfirst into Merlin-knows-what kind of danger as soon as they knew when and where to do so.

The defining lines of their new relationship hadn't even been laid - how could they even begin to explain? "Um, Ron, we're sort of snogging now and then and we might have some sort of romantic relationship." No, there was no sense risking turning their trio on end until they knew what it was they had.

Nevertheless, Harry couldn't deny that he felt something intense for her...that she was certainly more than a mere friend now, that he thought about her night and day...that he quite possibly loved her. And that...well, that was quite a lot to keep from Ron.

Hermione babbled away about something irrelevant - Harry was too engrossed in his thoughts to pay much attention to what she was saying. It was mostly idle chatter anyway, fit to pass the time until they had to return to serious matters once more.

They ate a comfortable dinner and spent the rest of the evening in the drawing room, pretending they were still normal teenagers doing normal things. When the clock struck ten, Hermione stretched lithely and excused herself. Some fifteen minutes later, Harry could resist no longer and followed after her.

He considered going straight to her room and stealing the kiss he'd been dying for, but thought better of it. Perhaps she didn't want that anymore...she'd always come to him before. He would wait for her to do so again.

But when he entered his room, he got the shock of his life - and considering he'd once found out that he was not only a wizard, but a famous one, that was saying a lot.

The first thing he noticed was Hermione's shoes on the floor with her socks placed just inside them. The second thing he noticed was her pile of clothing at the foot of his bed - her jeans, her blouse, and folded neatly on top, a lacy white bra. Third and finally, he noticed his old Quidditch T-shirt, which was currently wrapped nicely about Hermione, who looked quite cozy in his bed.

She smiled shyly at him. "You don't mind, do you?"

Harry swallowed. "No, of course not. I...um...I'll change," Harry said, almost as a question, searching for confirmation from her as to what to do next. He'd never been in this situation with a girl, especially not one as important and essential to his being as Hermione. He couldn't afford to mess this up.

Settling back against the pillows, she watched him remove his socks, pants, and shirt. He could feel her eyes on him, and that left him hot and flustered. She was looking at him the way he looked at her, full of appreciation and - dare he say it - desire.

He pulled on a T-shirt to sleep in and slid into the bed beside her, very eager to take her into his arms. She looked so snug and warm under the blankets, so soft with her hair fanning out across the pillow...she looked like a brilliant night's sleep. Whatever she intended to happen tonight, he would be content if he could just hold her close to him until the light of morning stirred them from their slumber.

As soon as he pulled the covers back over them, she snuggled into him and he gladly embraced her. She nuzzled his neck.

"I've missed you so much," she whispered. He shivered as her hot breath drifted across his skin.

"I've missed you, too," he replied, running his fingers through her hair. Letting the strands slip through his fingers, he continued, "I hate that you're not here...with me."

"So do I," she said. "But I'm here now."

Harry read the look in her eyes as an invitation and took the chance he'd wanted to take ever since he'd met her at Hogwarts. Soft and full, her lips accepted his kiss eagerly, and she tightened her hold on him.

Oh, how he'd needed this, her softness all around him, smooth legs sliding against his, her delicate fingers tangled in his hair. Life was so lonely without her around. Ever since they'd met, she'd been the only constant source of affection in his life - the only person that hugged him, that kissed him, that would pat his arm in reassurance. He'd had no idea he relied on that physical contact until he'd had to be without it, and now, he needed to make up for lost time.

Harry was glad Hermione was offering this affection, that she only pressed closer to him when he slipped his tongue into her mouth, that she responded with a moan of approval to his hands slipping under her shirt to caress her skin. She had a way with him, a way of completely clearing his mind of everything but her. He loved that about her.

When she tugged off his T-shirt, he didn't question her; he didn't want to, didn't want to risk ending these few moments in heaven. She tossed her own shirt to the floor, and he knew he needn't ask - no need to ask permission to take what was being freely given.

Soon he was naked, and so was she, and he dove into her beauty and drowned in it. He wasn't sure if he was in love, but if he wasn't, he was so close that he certainly would be by the time he woke up in the morning.

From the first gasp as he slid into her to the final cry as she came, making love to Hermione was like...music. All the harmony, all the discord, the rhythms and crescendos, came together in one fantastic melody that continued playing in his soul long after they'd ceased to move, nestled close under the covers. She'd given him an unexpected peace in this time of war, had shattered his doubts and left him somehow more complete than he'd been before, even though he hadn't known he'd been missing anything at all. And even though he knew the worst was yet to come, he had a strange feeling that the best years of his life had just begun...with her.

As she fell asleep in the crook of his arm, his mind that had been so restless of late finally stilled, and he went to sleep that night without worrying what the next day would bring.

The End