Love is a Battlefield

Dedication: This one’s for Libbie, just because.
 

* * * * *

 
I can feel it coming in the air tonight
And I’ve been waiting for this moment for all my life
 

* * * * *

 
3am, November 1, 2008
 
Harry slid out of the bed quietly, taking care not to disturb the sleeping figure next to him. Not bothering to put on his glasses or any clothing, he wrapped a sheet around his waist and walked over to the window, staring out at the night. The wind howled through the trees, leaves swirling on the ground. Branches swayed and bent under the relentless gusts that echoed through the darkness; Harry shivered, even though he couldn’t feel the cold. The room, however, had that early morning chill since he’d had completely forgotten to invoke a warming charm the previous night. His mind had been occupied with other things.
 
He glanced back over his shoulder at the bed; Hermione slept on peacefully, the moonlight slanting in to illuminate her face.
 
Turning back to the window, he stared out at the dark, his mind a jumble of thoughts. He’d slept with Hermione. This was not how he’d anticipated the night would end; Hermione had made it perfectly clear she’d wanted to take things slowly, and Harry had been more than happy to accept that. However, when she’d indicated she wanted to make love to him, a not-so-small part of him had been overjoyed that she’d wanted to take the next step in their relationship. The feel of her underneath him, her hands roaming all over his body and her lips on his had made him wonder how he could have lived so long without her, without realising how much he loved her. Although they’d only been lovers for one night, he somehow knew that this was meant to be. He had never loved another woman like he did Hermione.
 
He turned back to her sleeping form again and he suddenly itched to touch her. He covered the distance between the window and the bed in as few steps as possible and perched himself next to her. She looked so beautiful in slumber, her delicate features enhanced in the moonlight. Harry couldn’t help himself. He gently reached out a hand to brush away a stray hair from her face, then ran it down her cheek. Hermione’s eyelids fluttered, and she opened one eye cautiously.
 
“Harry?” she murmured softly, stifling a yawn.
 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He smiled as she propped herself up on one elbow. “You just looked so beautiful lying there … I couldn’t help myself. Had to touch you.”
 
Hermione smiled sleepily as she looked up at him hovering over her. She reached up and curled a hand around his neck, pulling him down for a lengthy kiss. “It’s too early to be awake. Come back to bed, Harry.” She scooted over to the middle of the bed and flung the covers back, inviting him in. Harry got back into bed, pulling the quilt over him to stop the cold seeping in while Hermione reached out and placed a hand on his chest. “You’re freezing,” she complained. “Let me make you warm again.” She held out her arms and Harry slid into them without a second thought. Hermione curled herself around him, pulling him as tightly against her as she could. She slipped her leg between his and placed her arms around him as Harry rested his head against her chest. It didn’t take long for him to warm again in Hermione’s embrace. She kissed the top of his head; snuggled within the confines of her arms, the beating of her heart lulled him back to sleep.
 

* * * * *

 
When Hermione awoke the next morning, she found the bed empty next to her. She closed her eyes again and stretched, yawning.
 
She couldn’t help but grin at the thought of the previous night’s events. She and Harry had been so overcome by the moment and their incessant need to be as close as possible that they hadn’t even made it to the bedroom the first time, instead barely making it to the lounge room. They’d practically ripped each other’s clothes off and tossed them aside in their desperation to be joined.
 
Afterwards, Harry had carried her upstairs to his bed, where they’d once again made desperate love, despite their attempts to slow down. Harry had done his best to drive her almost out of her mind with his kisses and caresses. Hermione blushed a little now as she remembered her reactions to his ministrations; she didn’t think she’d ever been quite as vocal with any of her previous lovers as she had been with Harry. She made a mental note to soundproof the bedroom down the track.
 
After she’d finished stretching, Hermione got out of bed and put on the first thing she could find – the top half of Harry’s pyjamas. Presumably, wherever he was, Harry wore the bottom half. She stopped to look briefly at her reflection in the mirror, thankful it was a Muggle one and wasn’t going to talk back to her. She stared at the reflected image for a moment, then waved a hand and turned away. She headed for the bedroom door and pulled it open … only to find Harry standing on the other side, tray held out before him.
 
“Hey, what are you doing out of bed?” he asked, a small frown forming on his face.
 
“Well, good morning to you too,” Hermione said teasingly, stepping out of the way and holding the door open so he could come in. Harry crossed the threshold and placed the tray on the bed; as Hermione followed, he glanced at her and the sight of her made his heart – and another part of him – ache. His top was too big for her, reaching mid thigh, which only enhanced her appeal.
 
“Good morning,” he said, reaching out and pulling her close. He captured her face in his hands and kissed her lovingly; Hermione promptly slid her arms around his waist and responded by running her tongue seductively along his lips. Harry opened his mouth with a groan and Hermione slid her tongue inside to meet his. “I made you breakfast,” he murmured long minutes later against her lips.
 
Hermione pulled back with a smile. “Yummy! I’m starving.” She released him and turned to the tray, upon which she found two plates that held a spread of croissants, butter and jam. A glass of pineapple juice stood on either side of the plates. “Wow, Harry. You’ve never gotten me breakfast in bed before!”
 
“Well, I thought you might be hungry after last night.” He flushed a little, which made Hermione giggle.
 
“I’m ravenous.” She hopped back onto the bed and patted the space next to her, grabbing a plate off the tray and placing it next to her while she buttered a croissant. She sipped her juice as Harry got on to the bed next to her, fluffing a few pillows up to lean against. They tucked into their breakfast heartily, not speaking, and made short work of the food on offer.
 
By the time they were finished, Hermione was well and truly full. “That was too good for words. I hope you realise you’ve set a precedent now; I shall be expecting this every morning.” She grinned cheekily at him as he levitated the tray off the bed and onto the floor.
 
“Every morning?” Harry raised an eyebrow and opened his arms.
 
Hermione moved into them easily, resting her head against his shoulder. “How about every Saturday morning then?” She ran her fingers over his chest, playing gently with the small amount of hair that covered it. His skin was smooth to the touch.
 
“Deal - as long as you make breakfast for me on Sunday.”
 
“Okay,” Hermione answered, looking up at him. He closed the distance between them and brushed his lips against hers, then ruffled her hair gently.
 
“So, what do you want to do today then?”
 
Hermione pondered the question. “How about we stay in bed?”
 
Harry laughed. “As tempting as that is, I thought maybe we could go out.” He glanced out the window. “The wind seems to have calmed down; it was blowing up a gale last night. Why don’t we go somewhere?”
 
“Go somewhere?” Hermione echoed, pulling out of his embrace to look at him properly. “You mean, like go away somewhere?”
 
“Why not?” Harry asked. “We can hop in the car and just drive for a few hours, then find a nice little B&B to stay the night in.”
 
Hermione grinned. “A wild weekend away, huh? I like the sound of that.” She leaned over and kissed him firmly. “What about Crookshanks and Hedwig?”
 
Harry’s face fell slightly. “Oh, I hadn’t thought about that.” He thought for a moment, his brow creasing. “We can ask Ron to feed them while we’re gone.” There was silence for a few seconds as they both pondered the thought; this meant making their relationship official.
 
Neither of them talked for a long moment, each of them wondering what the other was thinking. Finally, Harry spoke. “Unless, of course, you don’t want Ron to know.” He cleared his throat and waited for Hermione to respond.
 
“It’s not that I don’t want Ron to know, Harry,” she began, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t care who knows. I’m in love with you, plain and simple. The whole world can know.” A surge of warmth ran through her as he grinned at her in that way that reminded her of when he was a boy. “I just … ” She sighed, trying best how to explain it.
 
“It’s just that you want to keep it between us for a little while so we can enjoy it before the inevitable media attention bombards us?”
 
Hermione nodded and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Exactly. Couldn’t have put it better myself.” She went back to resting her head on his shoulder and tightened her grip on him as he kissed the top of her head.
 
“They will find out eventually, you know,” Harry mused softly. “We can’t hide it from them forever.”
 
“I know.” Hermione paused, looking up into the vivid green eyes that were firmly focused on her face. “Oh, to hell with it. Let them find out. I hope they tell everyone.”
 
Harry said nothing for a moment, choosing to hold her gaze.
 
“Harry?”
 
“I love you, Hermione.”
 
She smiled widely. “I love you too. Now let’s get organised and get out of here.”

* * * * *

 
Hermione sat on the bathroom counter, wearing nothing but a fluffy blue robe and a smile. Her wet hair hung around her face and droplets of water clung to her body. Her legs were slightly apart to accommodate Harry, who was standing before her, clad only in a towel that sat snugly on his slim hips. They’d spent the last half hour in the shower together, and Hermione was quite sure after their activities in it that showering would never be quite the same. They’d made a pledge to shower together every morning; neither of them could think of a better way to start the day, and it would give them a chance to spend a few moments alone before the madness of their day began.
 
She reached over and dipped the razor in the water, washing it clean before lifting it up to his face. Slowly, carefully, she gripped his chin firmly and ran the razor up it. She repeated the motion several times until she was done, then dipped the razor again to clean it. Placing it behind the sink, she grabbed the face towel sitting next to her and wiped the excess shaving cream off. Her heart did a small flip-flop in her chest as she gazed upon his face; and she wondered how she ever could have lived with him for so long and not realised just how handsome Harry was. Hermione felt like a child again, discovering a precious treasure that she would keep close to her heart always.
 
As she put the towel back down Harry caught her wrist, bringing it up slowly to his mouth and kissing it gently. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as he did the same to the other wrist. She was seeing a side of Harry she’d never experienced before and it took her breath away how loving and tender he could be.
 
As if he could read her mind, Harry spoke quietly. “How did we manage to go on for so long?”
 
“I don’t know,” Hermione answered, shaking free of his grip to place a hand on his cheek. “I guess we weren’t ready, Harry. It wasn’t our time.”
 
“I’m glad we’re ready now,” he whispered, leaning over and brushing his lips against hers.
 
Hermione gasped softly, his touch as soft as a butterfly’s. “Me too.” She closed her eyes as Harry brought his hands up to cup her face in them, trailing gentle kisses over her face. A flair of desire shot through her at his touch and she kissed him back fiercely as he sealed his mouth over hers. Her mind began to spin and her whole body flushed with excitement as he deepened the kiss, grasping her hips and pulling her up against him. She slid her arms around his neck and held him close.
 
They kissed for a lengthy amount of time and Hermione was enjoying every second of it. She’d never experienced this kind of intimacy with her previous lovers; while both of them had been good men, she’d never really felt the kind of connection she had with Harry. On a subconscious level, it had always been there, but it was different now, in a way Hermione never dreamed possible. Harry made her feel special, and so very loved, and she adored him for it.
 
So when his hands slid down to untie the belt of her robe, she smiled against his mouth. He slid a hand in it and ran it across her smooth skin and she involuntarily arched against him, eager for more. He complied, running his hand over her stomach and moving it up to cup her breast gently. Hermione broke the kiss and moaned, Harry’s lips drifting down to kiss her neck. As he applied more pressure, running his thumb over the tip and circling it gently, Hermione could take no more. She untucked the corner of his towel and let it drop onto the floor.
 

* * * * *

 
 
Some time later, Hermione stood at her dresser, rifling through her clothes in an attempt to decide what to pack. She’d called her mother to apologise for not returning her call the previous night but had declined to give any information as to why; Harry was currently next door with Ron to ask him to feed the animals and watch the house while they were gone. A part of her wondered how Ron would react, although Harry had assured her with a kiss that he’d already told Ron how he felt about her and he’d taken it well. It wasn’t like Hermione felt she needed Ron’s approval, but deep down, she did want his blessing, as she’d sought it twice previously. Ron was very important to her and she wanted him to be happy for her. No matter what happened between herself and Harry, Ron would always be her best friend and she cherished him and their friendship greatly.
 
Humming happily to herself, she pulled a small overnight bag from her wardrobe and packed her chosen items of clothing in it. Moving into her bathroom, she grabbed any essentials and tucked them into the top, then zipped the bag up and carried it downstairs.
 
 
“Sickle for your thoughts,” a voice said from her left, startling her out of her reverie.
 
“Oh hey, I didn’t hear you come back in.” For some reason, the blush remained on her face and she saw the grin on Harry’s face as he walked over to where she sat and placed himself on the edge of the coffee table in front on her. Hermione leaned forward so their faces were almost touching. “Did you talk to Ron?” she asked, unable to keep the edge of anxiety out of her tone.
 
Harry closed the gap between them, touching his forehead to hers and stroking her cheek in gentle reassurance. “No problem. He was fine about the animals. He’ll come and check the house tonight. He also told us to be on our best behaviour.” This last part was said with a smile and Harry took his hand away from Hermione’s cheek and slid it around to the back of her head, then pulled her close for a passionate kiss. Hermione offered no resistance, opening her mouth to his and resting her hands on his thighs. They kissed for a few minutes, caught up in a maelstrom of emotions, until Harry finally tore his lips away. “I really should go and pack so we can get moving.” With one last kiss, he got up and strode out of the room, leaving a breathless Hermione in his wake.
 

* * * * *

 
Hermione had always loved the countryside. When she was a child, her paternal grandparents had owned a farm and she’d spent many a weekend there, helping feed the animals and do the chores.
 
She watched the scenery out of the car window. Harry had one hand on the wheel and the other hand on her thigh; as the memories of her childhood flooded back over her, she took Harry’s hand in hers and laced her fingers through his. Without taking his eyes off the road, he lifted their joined hands up to his lips and kissed the back of her hand softly. Hermione looked over at him and smiled.
 

* * * * *

 
“Ron! Hurry up! I’m having another contraction!” Kellie lay on their bed as a flash of red hair came racing into the room. Panting heavily, she watched as he raced around the room, looking for something.
 
“I can’t find it!” His voice had an edge of desperation to it.
 
“Can’t you remember where you left it?” Kellie sighed.
 
Ron stopped momentarily, deep in thought. All of a sudden, he held up a hand then threw the wardrobe door open and pulled an overnight bag out of it. “Found it!” he grinned triumphantly.
 
Kellie stopped panting and sat up, looking at the clock next to her. “It took you sixteen minutes to find my bag, Ron. If I really had been in labour, I would have given birth to this baby on our bed.” She tried to sound annoyed, but failed miserably as her husband slid onto the bed next to her and rubbed her bulging stomach gently.
 
“I’ll leave the bag near the door so we can just grab it when it’s really time.”
 
Kellie reached out and stroked his fiery hair gently. “You said that last time, love.”
 
“Everything will be fine, you know. I’ll get you to the hospital in plenty of time.”
 
“I know,” Kellie smiled. “I just don’t want you panicking like you did just now when it really is time.”
 
“I wasn’t panicking!” Ron exclaimed indignantly. Kellie fixed her gaze on him. “Okay, so maybe a little. I just want everything to go smoothly.” He moved his head down and rested it against her tummy softly. “Not long now, little one,” he crooned gently to their unborn child. “You’ll be here soon.”
 
Kellie ran a finger along the back of his neck. “We still haven’t picked a name, you know. We can’t call the baby Junior.”
 
Ron sat up and propped a few pillows up behind him, turning slightly to face his wife. “Sure we can,” he said with a grin. “Junior Weasley. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
 
Kellie laughed, running a hand over her swollen stomach. “No, I don’t.” She looked her husband directly in the eye. “Do you want to call the baby Ronald if he’s a boy?”
 
Ron shook his head. “Nope. He needs to have his own name.” He went back to stroking her stomach gently. “How about Arthur?”
 
Kellie made a face which made Ron laugh. “As much as I love your father, I don’t like his name.” She paused in thought. “We can give him Arthur as a middle name though, if you’d like.”
 
“I’m sure Dad would love that.”
 
“How about Michael? Kyle? Andrew? Wilfred?” She said the last name with a twinkle in her eye that Ron missed.
 
“Wilfred?” Ron sputtered. “You can’t be serious.”
 
“Sure I am,” Kellie said, her face completely straight. “Wilfred Arthur Weasley. I like it.”
 
“I am not calling our son Wilfred, Kellie Anne,” Ron said determinedly. “So you can get that thought right out of your head now.”
 
Kellie laughed out loud. “You’re so sexy when you’re indignant.” Raising a hand to his cheek, she coaxed him forward, unable to lean over to kiss him. He took the hint and pressed his lips against hers.
 
He pulled back after a long moment and smoothed her hair. “We’ll wait and see what he looks like and then we’ll decide.”
 
Kellie nodded in agreement. “That’s if the baby is a boy, of course. Now, girls’ names… how about Gertrude?”
 

* * * * *

Hermione examined the reception area as Harry checked them in. They were in a small hamlet in the countryside; the nearest main town was a good half hour drive. Their current location was quiet and remote which was exactly what they were after.
 
Hermione examined the tall ceilings as she clutched Harry’s hand. The main house had obviously been around in mediaeval times and much of the décor matched the theme of the house. Hermione liked it; she’d always been fascinated by English Muggle history and it reminded her of some research she’d done as extra credit for Muggle Studies.
 
Turning her attention back to the present, she looked at the pleasant young woman serving Harry. She reminded Hermione a lot of Cho Chang; her features were flawless, beautiful brown eyes looking out through almond shaped lids. Hermione thought she couldn’t have been more than twenty one or two. She’d introduced herself as Mia and was politely explaining the checking in procedures to Harry with a bit more enthusiasm and arm touching than Hermione thought necessary.
 
“I hope you have a pleasant stay with us,” she said with a smile, handing Harry a key. Hermione smiled back at her as Harry took the key.
 
“Thank you for everything, Mia.” He grinned at her, and Hermione held back her mirth as she saw Mia flutter her eyelids at him.
 
“Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything else, Mr. Potter.”
 
“I won’t, thank you.” Harry smiled once more and pulled a grinning Hermione outside.
 
“Don’t say a word,” Harry warned as Hermione exploded into laughter. “She was just being nice.”
 
“Of course she was! She was flirting with you, Harry. If I didn’t find it so amusing, I’d be spluttering indignantly.”
 
“Would you now?” He pulled her towards him, wrapping his free arm around her waist and nuzzling her neck. “You have nothing to worry about, love.”
 
“I know,” Hermione answered, gasping as he kissed a sensitive spot on her neck. “I was teasing. I think it’s cute; at least we know she has good taste.”
 
Harry didn’t respond, instead choosing to work his way up her neck to her lips, capturing them with his. Hermione pulled away after a few seconds. “She can still see us, you know.”
 
“So?” Harry countered, kissing her once more. “I’m allowed to kiss my girlfriend.”
 
Something about the way Harry said the last word made Hermione’s breath hitch in her chest. The seriousness of the change in their relationship hit her suddenly. Forty eight hours ago, they weren’t speaking. Now, they were lovers. She was Harry’s girlfriend. Hermione felt like this should be scaring her, that it was moving way too fast, but she realised that it didn’t worry her at all. It felt like she and Harry had been together for a long time. It felt … natural. Right. Like it was meant to be. Not for the first time since their date, Hermione marvelled at the depth of love she felt for the man whose embrace she was wrapped up in; it had sneaked up on her, hitting her without warning, but now that she knew, she couldn’t imagine living her life without loving him.
 
“Are you okay?” Harry asked with a frown.
 
“Yes,” Hermione said. “Just thinking about how much I love you.”
 
Harry’s face broke out in a wide grin and his eyes sparkled. “I love you too.”
 
“Come on,” Hermione said, giving him a quick kiss and tugging on his hand. “Let’s go find our accommodation for the night.”
 
They trudged back to the car, and following the instructions given to them by Mia, drove around to the back of the main house where they found an expansive array of small cottages. Harry eased the car into the parking space allotted to their cottage and they both got out.
 
Hermione pulled the collar of her coat up. “It’s getting cold!” she exclaimed as Harry opened the trunk and grabbed their bags. “It might snow again tonight.” It was early in the season for snow but the weather had been unpredictable in the last month, so nothing would surprise her.
 
“Let’s take a quick look, then you can unpack while I go out for supplies.” Harry carried the bags over to the door while Hermione shut the trunk and then locked the doors. She unlocked the door to the cottage and went inside, holding it open for Harry.
 
“Wow,” she said, looking around and shrugging off her coat which she placed on the table next to the door. “It’s really nice.” The door opened onto the main room of the cottage; while the décor was of a similar mediaeval style to the reception area, the layout of the cottage was not. To their left was the lounge room, two long couches set out in front of the fireplace, which currently had a small fire burning; to the right was a kitchenette, complete with a four seater dining table. Ahead on the left past the lounge was what Hermione guessed was the bedroom; however, instead of being in a separate room, it was all open planned, so no doors or walls separated the rooms. It rather reminded Hermione of a New York style loft. She’d spent three months in New York quite a few years ago and the cottage was of a similar style. The part of the room that contained the king size bed was raised off the ground with three steps leading up to it. There was a closed door to the right past the kitchen area; Hermione assumed this led to the bathroom.
 
“Do you fancy anything in particular for dinner?” Harry asked as he dropped the bags by the lounge.
 
Hermione shook her head. “Surprise me.”
 
“Right. I’m going to go out and get what we need in case it snows again.” He came over to where she stood. “I should be able to get everything at the supermarket we passed on the way in so I shouldn’t be longer than half an hour.”
 
“Drive carefully.” Hermione stood up on her toes and kissed him. “Hurry back,” she murmured against his lips.
 
“I will.” Harry kissed her again, then kissed the tip of her nose and disappeared out the door. Hermione locked it behind him and began to unpack.
 

* * * * *

 
Penny Weasley walked into her husband’s study to find him knee deep in parchments. He dipped his quill in the inkbottle and began to scribble furiously on the parchment that lay spread out before him.
 
“Your dinner is cold, Percy,” she said. “I called you three times.”
 
“Sorry, Pen,” he answered without looking up. “Go ahead without me.”

“I already did.” Penny took a deep breath and perched herself in the chair that sat around the other side of Percy’s desk. She watched him as he wrote, and she felt … sad. Sad at the decision she’d made. Sad that it had come to this, that is was the only decision she could make. But she knew in her heart this had been a long time coming; they’d been young when they’d married. Penelope wondered if perhaps it might have worked had they waited until they’d been a bit older.
 
Taking a deep breath, she spoke. “Percy, we need to talk.”
 
“In a minute, Penny,” he replied.
 
“No, Percy. Now.” Something in her tone made Percy look up, and he reluctantly put his quill down and looked at his wife.
 
“What’s wrong?” He asked, his brow furrowing.
 
“I want a divorce.”
 
Percy looked at her blankly for a moment, his mouth opening a few times and closing again. “You can’t divorce me,” he finally said.
 
Penny laughed hollowly. “Of course I can divorce you, Percy. Our marriage has been over for a long time, and you know it. We both know it.”
 
Percy didn’t know what to say. He knew deep down she was right; their marriage had been over for quite some time. They slept in separate bedrooms and Percy spent long hours at the Ministry while Penny was kept busy with promoting the twins’ business, so they often went for days on end without seeing each other. Still, Percy hadn’t truly thought that Penny would want to end the marriage.
 
“I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say to make you change your mind?”
 
Penny shook her head. “No, Percy. I’ve thought about it long and hard and it really is the only solution. We barely see each other anymore; I can’t remember the last time we had sex; and you’re so wrapped up in your job I’m surprised you even know who I am.” She held up a hand as Percy opened his mouth to protest. “I know that my job keeps me busy, too. I’m not laying the blame firmly at your feet – we’re both to blame.” She softened her tone. “I do love you, Percy. I will always love you. I just don’t want to be married to you anymore … I want to make my own life. I want to be loved by somebody who’ll make me a priority. I know how much you love your job and I would never ask you to give that up, but I don’t think it’s fair to either of us to continue on in a marriage that died a long time ago. I hope you understand.”
 
Percy collected his thoughts. “Is this what you really want, Penny?”
 
Penny nodded. “Yes, it’s what I really want.”
 
Percy wondered why he didn’t feel distraught. He realised that maybe it was because she was right … their marriage had been over for a long time. “Okay. I’ll organise the paperwork.”
 
Penny breathed out. “Good.” They stared at each other for a few moments and then Penny got up and headed for the door.
 
“I love you, Penny.”
 
She stopped in the doorway and turned around slowly. “I know you do, Perce. I wish… ” Her words trailed off and she felt the prickling of tears rising in her eyes. However, she’d made her decision and had to stick to it. Without finishing the sentence, she turned away and shut the door behind her.
 

* * * * *

 
Ginny took a sip of her chardonnay and sighed as Draco massaged her aching feet. Although it was Saturday, she’d had to work all day, personally taking charge of a wedding that had had some last minute complications. Now, she lay sprawled on the lounge, her feet in Draco’s lap.
 
“Thank God we’re eloping,” she said with another sigh. “I couldn’t stand all the hassle.” However, even as she said it, a shadow of doubt began to creep into her mind. She knew how terribly disappointed Molly would be to miss her little girl’s big day. “Although we will have to deal with the hassles when we get back, you know.” She studied Draco’s profile over the rim of her glass. There was no light in the room other than that from the fireplace, where a fire roared brightly, and the dozen candles that hovered overhead.
 
Draco said nothing for a long moment, keeping himself focused to the task on hand. “Are you having second thoughts, Ginny?”
 
“What, about getting married? No way!” she replied in an emphatic voice. “I do want to have a small wedding, just the two of us there… ” Her voice trailed off.
 
“But?” Draco said softly, moving his fingers in slow circles, pressing gently.
 
“But… I can just imagine Mum’s reaction. She’s going to be gutted.” She took another sip of wine.
 
Draco remained silent, finishing up his task with a pat. Ginny put down her wine and scooted over towards the edge of the lounge, making room for him to stretch out next to her. He kicked off his shoes and joined her, resting his head on her shoulder. “So, do you want to have a small wedding here instead, with all of your family there?”
 
Ginny wrapped her arms around him, kissing the top of his head and stroking his hair gently. She’d missed him very much all day; her thoughts had kept drifting back to him while she was working. “Is it what you want, Draco?”
 
He lifted his head to look at his fiancée. “All I want is to be your husband, Gin. Doesn’t matter if it’s the two of us or a huge shindig for five thousand people. Whatever makes you happy is fine with me, beautiful. If you want to make Molly happy and do something here with her involved then we’ll do that.”
 
Ginny smiled and leaned over to kiss him. “I don’t deserve you, Draco Malfoy.”
 
“No, you don’t,” he said with a grin. “After all, I have women throwing themselves at me all the time.” He winked at her, and she laughed.
 
“I see. Well, feel free to trade me in if you’d rather have someone else.” She pretended to give it much thought. “But I get to keep the ring.” She waved her left hand in front of his face and he grabbed it, weaving his fingers through hers and resting them on her stomach.
 
“Nah, I think you’ll do.”
 
Ginny snorted. “Thanks so much, Malfoy. You really know how to make a girl feel loved!”
 
In response, Draco pulled her on top of him and lifted his head to kiss her deeply. He could taste the wine she’d been drinking, and on top of the sweet taste that was his Virginia, it made him a little light headed. He always felt her kisses, right down to the very core of him.
 
Ginny pulled her head back, mock frowning at him. “You can’t solve everything with kisses, you know.”
 
“Wanna bet?” He grabbed her head and pulled it back down to his, exploring her mouth lazily. It was a good fifteen seconds later when he released her for air.
 
Ginny panted heavily. “That’s not fair,” she said. “I can’t think when you do that.”

Draco placed a finger on her lips and traced them softly. “That’s the general idea, woman. Sometimes you think too much and I feel the need to banish all these thoughts from your mind. You know damn well that I adore you and love you more than anything else in my life. No woman could ever satisfy me half as much as you do and I could never be without you.” Ginny gazed at him tenderly, a small smile forming in the corners of her mouth. “Do you feel loved now?”
 
He grinned cheekily at her and she shifted on top of him, purposely rubbing up against a certain part of him which reacted instantly. “Absolutely,” she purred. She kissed him again then rested her head on his chest. Draco put his hand up her top and ran a finger up and down her spine, making her shiver. “Seriously, though,” she began, lifting her head up again to look at him. “What should we do? I don’t want to upset my family, but I really don’t want anyone at the wedding.”
 
Draco looked at her thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. “How about a compromise?” he asked after a few minutes.
 
“What kind of compromise?”
 
“Well, we go ahead as planned and get married while we’re away, but when we come back, we ask Molly to help you plan a big reception. We can have it at the Burrow and perhaps we can renew our vows. Something for them, so they don’t feel left out. You can wear your dress.”
 
Ginny’s eyes lit up with excitement. “That’s an excellent idea! We’ll renew our vows and Mum will love it. She still gets to plan a reception … ”
 
“… while we still elope. Problem solved.” Draco completed.
 
Ginny kissed him excitedly, stroking his blonde hair. “I knew you were good for something,” she teased.
 
Draco growled and flipped her over with a surprising amount of grace. He licked her collarbone and trailed kisses up and down her neck and shoulders. “Let me show you just how good I am.”
 

* * * * *

 
The fire crackled in the hearth, sparks flying out against the grate that kept the logs from rolling onto the floor. But the warmth that radiated through Hermione’s body wasn’t coming from the fire; she rather suspected that it was because she was currently perched in Harry’s lap, his hand stroking her skin under her shirt. They’d enjoyed a wonderful dinner, cooked to perfection with a few waves of Hermione’s wand; now, as darkness had arrived and the snow began to lightly fall outside, blanketing the cottage gently, they sat together, very much wrapped up in each other as the outside world passed them by.
 
They didn’t speak, content to just sit there and kiss; Hermione tilted her head back and moaned as Harry kissed her neck. She felt a bit tipsy, from both the bottle of champagne Harry had brought back from the shop and the incredible sensations that coursed through her body. All her senses were heightened from the alcohol and she felt each kiss right down to the very bottom of her soul.
 
She lifted his head back up and covered his mouth with hers, her tongue sliding in to meet his. They explored each other’s mouths until they literally couldn’t breathe; pulling away momentarily, they sucked in a few deep breaths. Hermione rested her forehead on Harry’s, panting heavily. She took his glasses off and reached over without breaking eye contact to place them safely on the coffee table; when she sat back up, she curled her arms around his neck. He planted kisses all over her face as their desire rose rapidly. Hermione moved around a little and felt his arousal. She smiled as she realised this reaction was because of her; it gave her a small thrill that Harry responded to her in this manner. She liked the thought that she could turn him on.
 
They kissed again and Harry’s hand began to climb higher under her shirt, making her giggle in her slightly inebriated state.
 
“What’s so funny?” Harry murmured against her lips.
 
“Nothing,” Hermione answered, still giggling. “It just tickles. And I think I’m a bit tipsy from the champagne.” She pulled him closer, kissing his temple.
 
“What am I going to do with you?” Harry asked teasingly.
 
“A few suggestions come to mind.” Hermione kissed him firmly and looked at him, her face sobering. “You could always take me to bed,” she whispered.
 
Harry kissed her back and curled his arm underneath her knees, picking her up and carrying her up the stairs to the bed, where he placed her gently in the middle of it. Stripping off his jumper and t-shirt, he climbed onto the bed with her, then sat her up and helped her out of her clothing. All the while they kissed, only separating to remove pieces of clothing that were thrown onto the floor.
 
Their lovemaking the night before had been frantic and fast-paced, their need to be joined overtaking everything else. This time, however, they slowed it down, making love with such leisurely, intense passion that Hermione wanted to cry from sheer happiness. By the time they were satiated, they were both exhausted, Harry curling his body around Hermione’s as they drifted off to sleep.
 

* * * * *

 
When Hermione awoke the next morning, she felt an unfamiliar sensation on her stomach. Blinking a few times and rubbing her eyes, it took her a moment to realise what it was.
 
“Harry,” she breathed, and the sensation faded momentarily as he lifted his head from her stomach. Hermione held the quilt up as he kissed his way back up her body until he reached her lips. Settling on top of her, he kissed her passionately, and she let go of the quilt to wrap her arms around his neck. She shifted slightly to accommodate his weight as he kissed her, loving the feel of his skin on hers.
 
“Good morning,” she eventually breathed, running a fingernail up and down his spine.
 
“It sure is,” Harry replied, running a hand down the side of her body, making her break out in goosebumps at his touch. “I love touching you,” he admitted. “Your skin is so smooth and soft.” He leaned down and kissed her shoulder gently.
 
“I love it when you touch me,” Hermione said in response. “I love everything about you, Harry Potter.”
 
They stared into each other’s eyes for the longest of moments. Harry looked so different without his glasses, Hermione thought. She reached up to stroke his hair softly.
 
“I think I might go and check out the shower,” Harry said with a smile. “Care to join me?”
 
“Absolutely.” She watched as he wriggled off her, then allowed him to pull her to her feet and followed him into the shower.
 

* * * * *

 
Harry and Hermione arrived home late Sunday afternoon to find a purring Crookshanks waiting by the garage door for them.
 
“Hello, baby,” Hermione crooned, scooping the cat up in her arms. “Have you missed Mummy?” Crookshanks licked her face in response. “I hope you were a good boy for Uncle Ron.” She tucked the cat under her arm and drifted into the kitchen to feed him.
 
Harry dropped their bags in the foyer and followed Hermione into the kitchen. “I might just go over and let Ron know we’re back.”
 
“Give him my love and tell him I said thank you. Oh, and tell Kel I’ll owl her tomorrow about lunch this week.”
 
“I will. Back soon.” He gave her a quick kiss and left. Hermione put the kettle on after she’d fed the cat, and poured herself a coffee as she awaited Harry’s return. They’d spent the day in bed, talking for hours and making love. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d talked so much, about everything and nothing. She’d attempted to get dressed after their shower but Harry had insisted he’d only take her clothes back off again so it was a waste of time. After a few well-placed kisses, she’d yielded and climbed back into bed with him.
 
The weekend was almost over already, and Hermione wished desperately that they had another two days to spend together. Of course, there was next weekend, but it seemed so far away …
 
She heard the door shut and Harry appeared in the doorway seconds later. “How are they?” she asked.
 
“Fine.” He crossed the kitchen and heated the kettle with his wand, then poured himself a coffee. Picking up his mug, he went over to the counter where Hermione sat and stood over her. “Oh, Ron told me to give you this.” He leaned over and kissed her slowly, making sure to explore every inch of her mouth with his tongue. When he pulled away long moments later, Hermione’s face was flushed.
 
“I hope he didn’t deliver it like that,” she breathed, and Harry burst out laughing.
 
“Not quite. That was just my interpretation.” He winked at her and slid onto the stool next to her, sipping his coffee. With his free hand, he weaved his fingers through hers and they drank their coffee in silence, hands clasped.
 
“I don’t want to go to work tomorrow,” Hermione admitted with a sigh. “I’d rather just forget the world exists and stay home.”
 
“Me too,” Harry agreed with a grin. “We could always call in sick.”
 
“Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind.” A slow smile spread across her face. “But the work would only be waiting there for me on Tuesday and I’ll already have enough to catch up on.”
 
They sat silently for a few moments, then Harry drained the last of his coffee and let go of Hermione’s hand so he could put the mug in the sink. He came back over and placed his hands on her thighs. “I guess we’ll just have to enjoy tonight then, won’t we?”
 
Hermione nodded and pulled him down for a kiss.
 

* * * * *

 
Monday, 3 November, 2008
 
Hermione glanced over at the clock which sat on the wall above Tabitha’s desk. It was almost one o’clock and Ginny was due to arrive any moment. Hermione wasn’t the least bit surprised to have an owl from Ginny waiting for her when she’d finally arrived at work that morning. Hermione knew exactly why Ginny wanted to have lunch with her; no doubt, she and Ron had been owling over the weekend and Ginny was well aware that Harry and Hermione had gone away together, so she imagined this lunch would be Ginny pressing for details.
 
As if on cue, Ginny swept through the doorway, her tight black robes falling gracefully around her figure. Hermione secretly marvelled at how Ginny always managed to look good, no matter what she was wearing; Hermione envied her a bit. Ginny was also one of those people who could eat like a horse and not put on a pound. Hermione had once mentioned this and Ginny’s answer still made her chuckle – it was only because of all the sex she had with Draco that she was able to stay in such great shape. She claimed it was the only reason she stayed with him, but Hermione knew better.
 
Hermione put down her quill and turned to face Ginny as she was pulled into an embrace. “You’ve been holding out on me, Hermione Granger,” she said without preamble. “Why didn’t I get an owl about your dirty weekend away?” Her tone was one of annoyance but her sparkling eyes gave her away.
 
“Because I knew your big mouth brother would pass it on,” Hermione said with a grin. “Besides, if I’m not mistaken, you’re buying me lunch to pump me for information, so what are you complaining about?”
 
“Nothing. I’m glad you realise this is why I’m here, because I expect all the details.” She grinned cheekily. “Shall we go?”
 

* * * * *

 
They wandered down Diagon Alley until they found a small café tucked away off the main alley. It looked secluded, so they decided to lunch there after cautiously looking around to make sure they weren’t being watched. Generally they were left alone in public, but they were sometimes interrupted by strangers and since this was to be a private conversation, they didn’t want to be overheard.
 
After asking for and receiving a private table in the corner, they studied the menu and placed their order and moments later, their drinks arrived. Ginny sipped her mineral water as she watched her friend’s face. “Right. Before I get to the good bit, I just want to state for the record that I’m deliriously happy for the two of you, and it’s about bloody time you realised how perfect you are for each other.” She grinned and reached over to squeeze Hermione’s hand. “I can only stay for half an hour, so let’s get right into it, shall we?” She smiled as Hermione shifted in her seat. “What’s Harry like in bed?”
 
Hermione was glad the hand that held her pumpkin juice hadn’t reached her mouth because she would have spat it everywhere. All of a sudden, she felt like a giggly schoolgirl, the two of them back at Hogwarts in the common room. “What makes you think I’m going to tell you?”
 
“Because you have that look on your face, like you’re just dying to tell someone. And I am your best girlfriend, am I not? So who better to spill to?”
 
Hermione nodded. “Yes, you are my best girlfriend … ” She took a sip of her juice and put it back on the table, fiddling idly with the serviette that sat next to her hand. “He’s, well, wonderful.”
 
Ginny snorted. “Thanks so much for that incredible amount of detail, Hermione. I could have told you that and I haven’t even shagged him.” She grinned and sipped her water some more, then looked at Hermione slyly. “Wish I had though. Just once.”
 
Hermione’s eyes widened. “What?”
 
“Oh come on, Hermione. Name me a witch in the country who wouldn’t want to shag him. He’s gorgeous. Tops every eligible bachelor poll. I daresay there’ll be more than a few witches who’ll want to scratch your eyes out when they find out about you two.” Just then, the waiter arrived with their lunches and they fell silent until he’d disappeared back into the kitchen. Hermione fiddled some more with her serviette, biting her lip. “Are you worried about the reaction when everyone finds out, Hermione?” Ginny asked gently.
 
“No,” she answered too quickly. Ginny raised an eyebrow as she lifted a forkful of salad up to her mouth. “Okay, yes. Maybe. A little.” She sighed deeply. “A lot. You know how much I dislike having my life splashed over the media, Gin. I know it can’t be avoided, but … this is different. This is so special to me, and I …”
 
Ginny patted her hand sympathetically. “I know, hon. I know exactly what you mean. You didn’t see half the owls I got when Draco first went into modelling. Really nasty they were, too. Telling me I was a whore and so many of them claiming to have shagged Draco while he was on assignments.” She wrinkled her nose at the memories. “Of course, I knew they were all lies. But it did hurt… made me wonder for a bit if they weren’t right.”
 
“Oh, Ginny,” Hermione said. “Of course they weren’t right. Draco absolutely adores you – he’d never so much as look at another woman.”
 
“I know that, Herm,” Ginny replied. “I’m just warning you to brace yourself. It won’t be pleasant. But I also know you’d never have to worry about Harry – I can tell just by how he looks at you that he loves you madly. Even before he’d shagged you.” She giggled and took another bite of her lunch. “Anyway, nice deflection, Granger. I seem to recall asking you a question and I’ve yet to get an answer. So, what’s he like in bed? What would you give him out of ten?”
 
“Ginny!” Hermione tried to look indignant but failed miserably, her mouth curling up in the first stages of laughter. “You are talking about a close friend of yours, you know.”
 
“Right. And he’s now your lover, and you’ve never held out on me before so I don’t know why you think I’d let you get away with it now – especially when it’s Harry we’re talking about. Just tell me … is he every bit as good as I imagine he would be?”
 
Hermione grinned. “And more. I’d give him an eleven.”
 
Ginny whistled. “An eleven? Wow, I don’t know that I’d even give Draco an eleven.”
 
“Liar. You said he was a twelve.”
 
At this, both women burst out laughing. The few other patrons in the café looked over at them but neither of them cared. “They’d die if they knew we were sitting here rating them, you know,” Ginny said, wiping the tears from her eyes.
 
“Probably,” Hermione agreed. She had a drink, and sobered up, looking straight at her redheaded friend. “Seriously, Ginny. I think this is it. I’ve never loved any other man like I do Harry. I don’t think I could.”
 
“I’m glad, Hermione. I’ve always thought you two would be good together. Draco and I wondered why you never took it any further.”
 
“We weren’t ready, I don’t think.” Hermione smiled. “But we are now.”
 
“Good. It’s about time you were happy. Nobody deserves it more than you two.” She finished off her salad. “I’ve got to get back. We still on for Wednesday?”
 
“Absolutely. I’ll owl Kellie and see if she’s up to it. We can go to their house and cook for her.”
 
“Excellent idea. Let me know.” She leaned over and kissed Hermione’s cheek. “Talk soon!” She threw some galleons on the table to cover lunch then disappeared up the alley with a wave. Hermione watched her go, then finished her drink and headed back to work.
 

* * * * *

 
Her heart began to beat excitedly at the thought of seeing him again as she Apparated into the foyer of their house. Shrugging off her robes and placing her briefcase under the coat rack, she poked her head into the rooms on the bottom floor but there was no sign of him. She tried to curb her disappointment.
 
“Harry?” she called out. There was no response. “Damn,” she muttered to herself. Hermione felt like they’d been apart for weeks instead of a mere ten hours. She’d left the office at six o’clock on the dot – the earliest she’d left for a very long time. Harry always beat her home so she thought he would have been here.
 
Suddenly, strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist and she was pulled back against something solid. She smothered a scream and relaxed as a pair of lips lightly kissed the side of her neck. “Well, look who’s decided to come home? I thought you’d forgotten where you lived.”
 
Hermione smiled and turned around in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck and hugging him tightly. She stroked his raven hair softly. “I thought you weren’t here,” she murmured, his breath warm on her neck.
 
“Was out with Hedwig. I didn’t hear you come in.” Hermione pulled back to look at him and smiled. “I missed you,” Harry said in a low voice, pressing his lips against hers. Hermione moaned and pressed harder, running her tongue along his bottom lip, seeking entrance. He gave it and she kissed him deeply, showing him exactly how much she’d missed him. Quite some time later, Harry pulled back, resting his forehead on hers. “How was your day?” he asked, the husky timbre of his voice sending a shiver up Hermione’s spine.
 
“It was long. I had lunch with Ginny today; she wanted all the juicy details of our weekend.” Hermione grinned.
 
“What did you tell her?” Harry asked, a mixture of amusement and hesitation clear in his voice.
 
“Not much. Told her it was okay. Nothing to owl home about.” She started to shriek as Harry tickled her.
 
“Nothing to owl home about, eh? Well, Miss Granger, looks like tonight I’ll have to try and change your mind about that.” His voice held promise of an incredible night ahead and Hermione, for one, couldn’t wait.
 
“Promise?”
 
“Promise,” he agreed, sealing the deal with a kiss. And as they kissed, Hermione wondered, not for the first time, how it was that she could have lived for so many years without realising how deeply she felt for the man in whose arms she currently stood. But they couldn’t dwell on the past; now, they had the future to look forward to … and if the past weekend was any indication, their lives were about to change for the better.