Harry and the Six Virgins

Chapter XIV

Hermione woke up and stretched, feeling more at ease in her body than she had in over a year and a half. She stretched, warm and secure under a heavy quilt, and wondered why she was nude. She never slept in the nude. Still, it was nice to feel so comfortable, no matter why she felt that way.

Then she remembered why. Hermione's eyes flew open. "Oh, my!" Hermione sat up and looked around. She was alone in the large bed. She remembered snuggling up to Harry when they had retired early the night before, and then nothing until now. No nightmares of cruel laughter or wizards punishing her. Just warm accepting oblivion.

Hermione looked around, and couldn't see a clock. She also couldn't see any note from Harry. She got out of bed and picked up Harry's too-long extra robe. After a quick trip to the WC, she went to investigate the house, and to see where Harry was.

The fireplace had been cleaned out, and a new fire laid. There was a note for her on the kitchen table, saying Harry was out flying ('Of course,' Hermione thought) and that her breakfast was in the oven. She also saw bread ready for toasting and found milk in the large old-style fridge.

Hermione poured herself a glass of milk and ate the omelet and a slice of toast, wondering what she had gotten herself into. Her feeling of security was gone. She had never felt so helpless, and this was not a good feeling. Throughout her experiences with Ron, Hermione had been able to keep her pride intact outside their sessions. That was pretty much gone, now. Her secret was out. Harry knew, and Casey either knew or would find out. She just hoped few other people would learn about her . . . predilections.

The kitchen was fortunately Muggle, although old fashioned. Hermione cleaned up, and then took an inventory of the kitchen. The cellar was a bit more interesting. A row of bookshelves ran across one side of the cellar (she was not to know that a number of the books were newly placed just for her). Hermione found that while many of books were general, and slightly out-dated for the most part, a few were rare and just the ones she'd wanted to get a hold of for years. After a few minutes, Hermione went back upstairs to get the pair of socks she'd worn the evening before.

That's where Harry found Hermione a short time later, in the cellar, studying while listening to Muggle radio. "Happy New Year," Harry said.

"Thank you," Hermione said, turning the radio off. "I hope we both have a better year, once we go back."

Harry handed Hermione his wand. "Do you want to try to transfigure something for your self?"

She shook her head and handed it back. "No, I'll start my penance. I'm not certain how I can regain myself. I've really messed up my life."

Harry looked at Hermione. "Perhaps we should keep our hands to ourselves."

Hermione thought about that for a few moments. "You mean, treat this like I'm an addict?"

"Something like that. How about we try it for two weeks. I can sleep on one of the sofas."

Hermione thought about that more quickly, and said, "Two weeks, yes; two beds, no." Hermione teared up a little. "I need you near me, Harry. Please; don't withhold yourself from me. We can be close without . . . sex."

"Deal. Do you want to read by yourself, or would you mind if I played the guitar?"

"Since when do you play the guitar?"

"Since Susan taught me. I actually have something of a knack for it."

Hermione forced a smile. "Play away. It won't bother me."

As Harry played a medley of waltzes, Bach, opera, rock, and magical ballads, Hermione decided she shouldn't be jealous of the other girls, just happy she had time with her best friend.

Hermione spent the next two weeks deep in study. Most of her time was spent with rare volumes from Casey's library. Part of her time was spent learning basic household spells from Harry. Part of her time was spent studying Harry.

However, her second largest chunk of time was spent studying herself. To the Hermione of two summers before, her choices with Ron would have been unimaginable. She had to explain those choices to herself. She had to explain what had happened, what she had liked, and why she had gone along with the parts that she hadn't liked by any standards.

It would have been easiest to simply blame Ron and try walk to away from her past. Hermione refused to take the easy way; she knew that burying her problems wouldn't work in the long run. She could therefore apportion most of the blame to Ron, but far from all of it. Some of it she worked through silently to herself. Most of it, however, she talked through with Harry. Harry wasn't able to contribute very much, but he was a good listener. And, with sex off the table for those two weeks, Hermione could accept Harry's physical comforting, which he was VERY good at. If she had partially accepted Ron's rough sex because she wanted to be close to someone, she found just being held by Harry as he stroked her hair was much more enjoyable in many ways, and emotionally much more rewarding.

Every night, as Hermione cuddled up next to Harry's warm presence, she felt just a little more secure, a little more disgusted by her more extreme behaviors with Ron, a little more in love with Harry. And, although sex with Harry was out, snogging was not after a day or two. Hermione found herself wishing she could at least relieve the tensions growing within her, but she interpreted the ban on sex as absolute.

Thursday, January 15, 1948

"Good morning, Harry, did you have a good flight?"

"Good flying and good practicing," Harry answered, carefully dropping a load of wood near the wood stove. "Are you sure you don't want to launch some attacks? I can use the practice against a good opponent."

"Considering your recent dueling experience, I still don't think I'd be much of an opponent," Hermione told Harry yet again.

Harry shrugged. "It's my turn to cook; would you like anything special for lunch or dinner?"

"No; I'd like to talk with you for a few minutes."

Harry shrugged again, and followed Hermione up the stairs and into the parlor. He sat next to Hermione on the largest sofa at her gesture.

"Harry," Hermione said a bit shyly, "we've been together two weeks."

"So we have," Harry agreed.

Hermione sought out his eyes. "Are you angry with me, or ashamed of me, Harry?"

"Of course I'm not," Harry answered. "Ron took all, or at least most, of the initiative away from you. Anything we do is up to you, Hermione. I may say no, but I am not going to ask. We don't have to do anything more, if you don't feel like it. I would hope we could at least avoid . . . anything coercive. My first idea wasn't my best one."

Hermione nodded. "No force, no violence, no bondage, no pain, no real . . . roughness." Hermione placed a hand on Harry's arm. "But please, Harry. Take my virginity. Now; here."

"Are you certain?"

Hermione stood and let her gown drop onto the floor. She was now wearing nothing but the slippers she had gotten on her third day, along with the rest of her wardrobe and her wand. She slipped off her slippers, laid out her robe to protect the sofa, and then leaned back on the sofa. "I'm certain, Harry. Let's make love."

Harry smiled and stood up, slowly peeling off his clothes. Hermione returned the smile. The next six weeks would be fun.

"Hello, Hermione."

Hermione took a deep breath and stretched. She looked around the small cavern room. It didn't seem nearly as oppressive had it had a subjective two months before. "Hello, Casey."

"Feeling better about yourself?"

"A lot better. Thank you for leaving us alone." She looked at Casey. "You didn't really leave us alone, did you?"

"I didn't interfere or visit you, but no, I did not leave you entirely alone. I therefore overheard your confession of your relationship with Ron Weasley. Only his parents and Dumbledore have been made aware of the situation. He will not be imprisoned or otherwise officially punished. However, he will NOT be returning to Hogwarts. Dumbledore will be arranging a transfer to the Matilda Academy of Magic." Casey smiled nastily. "Do you know of it?"

"No, not really," Hermione had to admit. "I know the name, and that's about it, other than it's somewhere in Australia."

"Despite the name, it's an all-boys school in the Australian outback," Casey told her. "He will be repeating the second half of his Fifth year, although he will not have to retake any O.W.L.s he did well in."

"How can the Weasleys afford that?" Hermione asked.

"I'm taking care of the costs, although he will NOT becoming home for the Yule holidays." Casey shrugged. "He doesn't seem like an evil boy. Perhaps he can straighten himself out."

Hermione was glad that Harry's accounts would not get stuck with the charges, and that Ron would have a chance to rebuild his life. "And what about me?" Hermione asked.

"I informed your parents that you went through an abusive relationship, without giving away the details. They are arranging to send you to what they believe is a Muggle counselor. In actuality, she is a Squib. I will brief her before your first meeting with her. After that, it's up to you. I am very powerful, but I am not a god."

"Thank you." Hermione looked Casey right in the eye. "Is Harry with Luna yet?"

"Not yet. He is spending what to him is a subjective day getting ready to tackle his last adventure. Still, in real time, it will all be over in less than an hour. If you have no objection, I will tell Harry about all the arrangements."

"Of course," Hermione said. "It would be . . . silly for me to keep it from him, especially considering all he knows anyway. And I hope never to keep a secret from Harry again, no matter what our relationship might be."

"He is an amazing boy in some ways, isn't he?" Casey said. "Intelligent, but no intellectual. As self-absorbed as any teen-aged boy, and yet caring. And very likeable."

"So, you'll help him?"

"I have helped him. By this time tomorrow, in Harry's subjective time-line, he will be well-able to defeat Voldemort."

"But does he HAVE to kill? Could you do it in such a way that the prophecy is fulfilled? Don't make Harry a killer, unless you have to," Hermione pleaded.

"I shall consider it. Good day to you. I shall see you in two months, or less than an hour, depending on how you wish to look at things." Casey disappeared.

Hermione sat down, and started figuring out how she should approach her parents, the therapist, and above all, Harry.