Harry Potter Love You Part 3

Introduction:
Part three: Ron finds out
“Would you marry me?”
“I would if you asked.”
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes. Of course I will!”
“Thank you” Harry leaned in for another kiss. The kiss of a lifetime, Hermione felt his love, his very being, his soul moving into her thru that kiss and she returned happily hers to him.
The tantalizing aromas coming from the dishes then appearing on the bedroom table, signaled the end of their tryst. Sighing, Harry gently disengaged. “Shall we eat first, or shower?”
“Let’s eat. I’m famished!” She replied. Her tummy rumbled in agreement.
Smiling in content, Harry helped her to rise from the bed. Hermione winced as her overstressed tissues protested. She tried to hide the discomfort, but Harry noticed, and placing a gentle hand on her mons, thought a warming spell. Hermione instantly felt less tender. ‘God what a man I have’ Grinning, he wafted his hand over the bed and their spent fluids vanished. She thanked him with a loving smile and a gentle kiss.
Harry summoned a pale blue robe for Hermione, and his usual emerald one for himself. Presentable now, they adjourned to the table.
Harry seated Hermione. She smiled at his display of manners and waited until he’d seated himself before picking up the coffee service. The service, recovered from his ancestral vault, was of ecru porcelain, chased with silver. Pouring his, then hers, she returned the beautiful urn to the table.
Harry lifted the steam dome over the larger tray set in the middle of the table. Winky, as usual, had overdone it, although, today, not as much as normal. Under the dome waited steaming, spiced scrambled eggs with red, green and yellow bell peppers, bangers, French toast, crisp bacon and kippers. To the side were fresh bread, strawberry conserves, butter, cold sliced Mandarin oranges and juice.
Harry served Hermione French toast, bacon and sliced oranges. For he knew she preferred to eat lightly. As for himself, he took a bit of each selection, and they tucked in.
“You realize; this changes everything.” He said, almost casually, although inside, he was anything but.
“Yea. You know Ron is going to hate us, but I really don‘t care anymore.”
“From what you’ve told me, and…” Harry added quickly, before she could protest. “…from what I already know about him, I’d say our dear friend Ronald, is deserving of quite a bit of hatred himself. You do not cheat on your girlfriend… especially with that many people.”
“What if it was only half that many, Harry?” Hermione asked quietly. “Would that be OK?”
“No.” He stated crisply. “No, not at all. What I’m trying to say is: You don’t cheat on your mate. Dean lives with Angela and Ramona, but they know each other, and they all love each other. The twins are in a four-way, with both Alicia and Angelina, but again, they know and love each other. That’s the difference, Hermione. Not the shagging. Not the number of girls in the harem, but the lies. Lying, manipulation, deceit…to me, these are the worst kinds of crimes. If you can’t tell the truth, then what good are you? What is your real worth? Do you understand my point?”
“Yes, Harry. I do. But just to play the Devil’s advocate, you’ve lied before. To me, as well as to others. What’s the difference between that and this?”
“Hermione, yes I have lied to you. But I have only lied, in order to protect you, and to protect others from things that would be much worse, if the whole truth were known. I know a lie is a lie and I shouldn‘t have, however I think that it’s the intent, which makes the difference. Ron has been lying just to protect himself from discovery… not to protect you, or any of the other girls he’s been lying to, but to keep his own deceptions quiet. He’s been lying to protect himself from the lot of you“.
“You’re saying your lying was justified, cause you were doing so to keeping me safe”
“Well yes, of course maybe I should found another way, but then I had to protect you from harm and the others too. You know I‘d die for you, I‘d be more than happy to destroy my life and give up my soul for you… Ron lies are just plain lies, no meaning no reason no purpose except to protect his deceits, My lies were out of love, to protect you and the other from harm not of my making. Not lies of jealousy, greed, deceit or lust”.
Hermione looked at him in total love as what he said sank in, “I see Harry…“ she choked a joyful tear “well don’t lie to me again”
“Yes my love”
Harry pondered a while, then murmured: “He’s always been a bit jealous…” Harry glared playfully as Hermione snorted at his minimizing of Ron’s worst trait. “…As I was saying; He’s always been jealous, but ever since the Department of Mysteries. He’s changed. Something in him has changed…and not for the better.”
Hermione knew deep down, that he was right. She had pondered this many times over the years, as she’d also noted the changes in Ron after the end of their fifth year, but the healers at St. Mungo’s had insisted he was completely cured. Still… Then his jealously had always been there, just more noticeable at times… maybe, it was just finally surfaced, when Ron found something he could steal from Harry and get away with it, well until yesterday.
Dobby popped in. “Good morning, Mister Harry Potter, sir. Mister Ronald Wheezy is here. He is looking for his miss. Good morning, Miss Hermyninny Grangers.”
“Good morning, Dobby.” Hermione greeted the elf warmly. Dobby ducked his head and shrugged his shoulders in embarrassment.
“Thank you, Dobby.” Harry replied. “Has he been offered coffee or tea?”
“Winky is offering now, Mister Harry Potter, sir! He is in the breakfast nook, waiting!” Dobby nodded his head rapidly. He was a good house elf, and saw to it in his house, that all the courtesies were observed!
“Very good. Please tell him this, exactly: “We will be down as soon as we’ve showered.” And Dobby, don’t let him come up here for any reason.”
“As you wish, Mister Harry Potter, sir! Good morning, Miss Hermyninny Grangers!” Dobby popped away, noiselessly.
Harry turned to Hermione. “What do you want to do? Do you want to go back to your flat and pick up your stuff? Ron might try to damage or destroy something when he finds out…”
“He would, and I already have. Before I left, I cast a delayed packing charm. As soon as he left the flat, it would take effect. My things should be packed into my trunks by now. I wasn‘t going back there ever”
“Alright. Dobby!” Harry happily, called to the house-elf. Instantly Dobby reappeared.
“Good morning, Mister Harry Potter, sir. How may Dobby serve you today?” He squeaked his ritual greeting. Harry had found it much easier to just allow it, than object to it every time Dobby greeted him. He had learned the hard way, to pick his battles!
“Dobby, would you be so kind as to go to Ron’s flat and pick up the…” Harry turned inquiringly to Hermione. She held up two fingers. “…two trunks, belonging to Hermione? She will be living here, from now on. And please ask Winky to find us some references on marriages in the wizarding world.”
Hermione grinned.
“Oh yes, Master! Dobby will do!” Dobby was so excited at the idea of Harry and Hermione marrying, that he completely forgot Harry detested the word ‘master’. He popped away before Harry could remind him.
Hermione rested her hand gently on Harry’s arm, smiling sweetly for his discomfiture. Harry smiled back, knowing it would do more harm than good, to correct Dobby.
Dobby returned a few minutes later, just as Harry and Hermione had risen from the table.
“Mister Harry Potter, sir! I has retrieved Miss Hermyninny Grangers’ property from mister Ronald Wheezy’s flat. Miss Hermyninny Grangers, I has brought you’s trunk and everything there with you’s magical feel on it.”
“Thank you, Dobby.” Hermione replied. Harry added: “Please bring her things to her room“.
“It is done already! Winky tells Dobby, that mister Ronald Wheezy is most insisting. He wishes to speak to miss Hermyninny Grangers, immediately!”
“As I said before, He’ll have to wait until we’ve showered.” Harry offered his hand to Hermoine and together, they walked from his bedroom to his bath.
Harry’s bathroom was more utilitarian than Hermione’s. Like Hermione’s, one wall was almost all glass. He had no tub. Instead, he had a large quarter-round shower made of glass bricks abutting the corner of the room. It was large enough for three or four people, more if they were really close, with a wide shelf running around it, at waist height. Four showerheads set at varying heights, one attached by a long hose, ensured more specific coverage, if called for. All the showerheads could be set for a variety of sprays, or massage.
A toilet stood nearby, partially shielded by a waist high rock wall with leafy ferns growing from the top. A single sink sat in the corner, on a modest countertop with three movable mirrors arranged over it. More ferns and varying vines grew from pots and sconces set around the room. The whole room was done in a soothing mixture of earthy browns and pale and deep greens. As in Hermione’s bath, soft soothing music wafted from hidden speakers.
The shower was already running, steam wafting through the room. Harry and Hermione doffed their robes and hung them on hooks next to the shower door. Harry made sure there were towels nearby, before he joined his beloved, under the hot sprays.
Winky popped silently into the room and exchanged Hermione’s blue terry robe for one in emerald. Smiling, she popped away with the blue one.
Hermione sighed as Harry enfolded her in his arms. She traced some of the scars that marred his once smooth flesh. His victory over Voldemort had come at an awful price. A great deal of Harry’s skin had been flayed from his body. Deep gashes, many to the bone, had bled fiercely before Harry had been placed under a stasis charm. Madam Pomfrey had almost fainted when she’d seen her favorite patient.
His skin had been restored over a period of very painful weeks and he’d eventually recovered, although not without the nightmares he’d been plagued with for most of his young life.
Now, Hermione leaned her head back and rested it on his shoulder. Harry reached out and gathered a bar of soap. He lathered his hands and then applied them to her skin. Hermione moaned in bliss as he tenderly ran his hands up and down her body, touching every part of her that he could reach. She gasped as his fingers brushed lightly against her nipples.
Her skin tingled wherever Harry touched. Hermione had always loved him, but only now, did she understand. Harry completed her! He’d been the thing she’d been missing during the past years with Ron.
Now, she felt…whole!
She reached her arm up and around his head, drawing his head close to hers, and opening herself up to his gentle assault.
Harry tormented her skin with feathery light caresses, just touching here and there. Joining his mouth to hers, he found her willing. Hermione’s tongue met his in gentle but passionate battle.
Hermione was literally in heaven! None of the men she’d ever known, had treated her like this. Ron certainly hadn’t! Now, she thought she could easily get used to it!
Harry slid his hands up and down her belly, cupping her breasts and lightly tracing her nipples with his soap-slicked fingers. Hermione groaned and arched her back, thrusting her bottom against his groin. A nice surprise awaited her there. Harry’s erection pressed hot, against her spine. Grinning wickedly, she wriggled her bum, pressing his organ between her cheeks. She felt the warm glow begin anew, inside her core. Hermione again drew Harry’s head to her own, and rejoined her lips to his.
As Harry’s hands continued to lather her up, in more ways than one, she eased one hand behind her and lightly gripped Harry’s organ, stroking it slowly.
Harry pressed his hips against her, as he set the soap aside, rinsed his hand and found her clit.
Hermione cried out and thrust against him again, this time with intent! Harry lightly traced his fingers under her body to find her petals already open and wetted. He eased the tips of two fingers into her.
He gently pumped his fingers into her a few times before she broke the kiss and cried out: “Enough! Fuck me, now!”
Harry pulled his hand from her, and brought his fingers to their mouths. Each of them took a finger in, savoring her nectar.
Harry gently, but firmly, pushed her forward, so her elbows rested on the wide ledge. He gripped his cock and brushed it lightly up and down her slit before placing the tip at her opening.
Hermione reached under herself and held him in place before thrusting backwards, impaling herself with a throaty sigh. Harry pushed forward at the same time, meeting her halfway.
Hermione returned her elbows to the ledge and closed her eyes, savoring the stretching feeling within her as Harry drove into her.
In and out, out and in, they moved together. Hot water coursed down their joined bodies, as Harry bent over her, thrusting slowly and deliberately.
Long and slow, they moved, taking all the time in the world to pleasure each other.
Harry gripped and rolled Hermione’s breasts as he plumbed her body. Hermione did what she could for him, but the position prevented her doing much.
Hermione realized she had to change this. Straightening, she turned, drawing herself off of him. She hopped up onto the ledge and opened her legs widely, inviting him to return.
He did so, and willingly! Lifting one leg, he rested her ankle on his shoulder, pushed in, and held her close, moving his hips, just slightly.
Hermione wrapped her other leg around Harry’s slim waist.
The new position put considerable pressure on her clitoris, and, already nearly there, she began her rise to climax, immediately!
Harry moved his hands to her hips, joined his mouth to hers in a passionate, soul-draining kiss, and began to thrust, pulling almost all the way out before sinking slowly back into her. Breaking the kiss, he lowered his head to her breast and suckled a nipple.
Hermione came hard, crying out, as she shuddered around him. Harry leaned in and again joined his lips to hers. He began to pump his hips harder now, driving quickly into her over and again.
Hermione came again and again. She never seemed to stop! One climax would immediately begin another! The electric sensation coursing through her body felt like the very power of the sun itself was burning within her!
Harry thrust one last time, and exploded. He held her, as drowning man, would clutch a life ring, while he emptied his soul into her.
Hermione screamed out her pleasure, as she felt his seed surge into her body, filling her.
Standing locked together, bodies shuddering from passion, they held each other tightly. Kisses, both passionate and chaste, followed as Harry and Hermione came down from their sexual high. The hot water rinsed them clean as they each explored the other.
The kisses gentled, until, finally, they parted.
I love you Hermione Granger.” Harry whispered almost reverently. Here, he’d been given a gift beyond measure. He intended to ensure she knew the gift was appreciated.
“I love you, Harry.” Hermione replied, no less awed. She too, felt she’d been given a wondrous and precious gift. Everything was right in the universe, Harry loved her.
Harry stepped slowly away, withdrawing from her, and easing her leg down. Hermione winced as aching muscles protested. She slipped off the shelf and stood, on rather shaky legs.
“you want me to ease …”
“no my love, we’ll never get downstairs” she relished in the ache.
Harry turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. Heat lamps came on, signaled by his presence. He held out a towel for her. Hermione sighed in pleasure as he rubbed her dry, and when finished, wrapped her in a thick terry robe.
She tied the sash, and wrapped another towel around her hair, as Harry toweled himself off. It was only then, that she noticed the robe she had on, was not the powder blue she usually wore, but one of his deep emerald green ones.
“Marking your territory, Harry?” She asked dryly, with a raised eyebrow.
“You know me better than that, ‘Mione. I’m just letting Ron know, you are under my protection. Anything else he wants to read into that, is his own look-out.”
Finished drying himself, Harry donned his own green robe.
“Shall we?”
“Yes. Lets do!” Together they turned toward the bathroom door. Just before Harry reached to open it, Hermione stopped him. “Wait!”
Harry eyed her curiously, as she loosened the sash just a bit, tugged the robe up and retightened the belt. Harry grinned widely as he saw her plan. Any movement, especially when seated, would show Ron clearly, that the only thing under Hermione’s robe, was Hermione. Harry looked from her almost-exposed torso to her glittering cinnamon eyes. Hermione smiled wickedly, then nodded toward the door.
He started to kiss her, but she stopped him “later, my love”
Together, they walked down the heavy, openwork stairway to the lounge. In the breakfast nook, Ron sat at the table, toying with his coffee, and glaring at Dobby and Winky.
Both elves studiously ignored him as they stood by the sideboard. Winky held a silver tray bearing a piece of parchment along with a suspiciously familiar, partially burnt envelope.
As Dobby picked up the coffee service, Ron became aware of their presence. He looked up and growled: “It’s about damn time you woke up, Hermione! Why the hell aren’t you dressed?” Then, he recognized the color she wore.
Green really was Hermione’s color. It complemented her complexion, eyes and hair perfectly. But before she always wore blue.
Despite his image, Ron wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what the color meant. Harry’s matched. He leapt to his feet and whipped out his wand, rage glowing in his eyes. The wand vanished, courtesy of an angry house elf. Dobby glared at Ron; promising much, much worse to come if he tried anything stupid!
“Sit down Ron!” Harry ordered. Ron sat. He was used to taking orders, although not much used to hearing Harry issue them. He tried to temporize. “Hermione, why aren’t you dressed? We do have to be going. We have a breakfast with the team sponsors today.”
“Ron, I’m not going anywhere with you, ever. Not after yesterday.”
“What about yesterday? So I got a little pissed. So what? You came, didn’t you? From the sounds you were making, you had a fantastic orgasm! Can Harry give that to you?” Ron sneered the name, as if Harry were beneath contempt.
“Yes, not that it’s any of your business, he can, but that’s not why I’m leaving you.”
“Yeah? Why then? I love you, Hermione.”
“No you don’t, Ron. You never have. You just wanted something Harry couldn’t have, so you sabotaged his chance at a relationship with me. You betrayed him, and you lied to me! You told me Harry was gay! You knew he was going to ask me to be his girlfriend and you burnt his note. How could you?”
“I don’t remember any note.” Ron lied. “Maybe I lost it. I dunno. Anyway, why’s it matter? Isn’t that the night you came to me and said you wanted to be my girl? I think…”
Hermione instantly probed Ron’s thoughts. Fuck his privacy, There it was! Right on the surface! She saw the entire scene from Ron’s viewpoint. Unfortunately, she also felt his thoughts and feelings on the issue, during the incident years ago.
What she found wasn’t pretty. Ron’s mind was filled with jealousy at Harry’s having everything. He resented Harry’s money, fame, even his superior magical power.
She heard his past thoughts: ‘So! Harry wants to shag Hermione. It’s easy enough. I wonder if she’s a virgin. Probably. Ugly little bookworm. No tits worth mentioning. An arse that’s barely there. Short. Needs makeup, too. Hmm, I guess she’d be OK in bed. I heard somewhere that the mousy bookworms, are usually rather kinky. Maybe I can play this so I can have her and Lavender! Yea. But how do I get her away from Harry. Oh, yeah, the note! Yea! I’ll just chuck it into the fire. What’ll I tell Hermione? Lets see… Oh, wait! Seamus once told me Harry was HOT! I think I’ll tell her he’s a flaming pouf! That ought to put a damper on anything she’s got for him. As for Harry, well, he’s rich. He can buy any other bird. But I’ll have something he can’t have. It’s perfect!’
Hermione managed…barely, to keep her recent breakfast down. She bypassed that memory and began to dig deeper. Fortunately, Ron had long before, proved to be worse than useless at Occlumency, so sifting through his memories was simplicity itself. Still, Hermione was shocked at some of the thoughts she found there. Seeing how Ron really felt about Her and Harry and his sister! Then the other thoughts, for a moment she thought she was in Draco’s mind.
Harry, knowing she was mentally strolling through Ron’s laundry, spoke up: “Ron, when Dobby saw you throw my note to Hermione into the fire, he cast a protective spell on it, and an illusion to make you think it had burnt. As soon as you’d gone, he pulled it from the flames. He burned himself rather seriously doing that, I might add.”
Ron blanched when Dobby lifted the letter and its envelope from Winky’s tray. Harry went on.
“Ron, we could forgive your deception, if you truly cared about Hermione, but you’ve shown quite clearly, that you don’t.”
“Of course, I do!” Ron turned to Hermione. “Hermione, I love you more than anything!”
“Do you really?” Harry asked sadly, hoping he didn‘t really. “Do you love her more than all the other girls you’re shagging?” Instantly the faces of all seventeen girls, about half of whom were muggles, came to the fore, accompanied by their names and places of residence along with floo calls or phone numbers. Hermione captured them all, easily. Starting with the one he shag just an hour ago.
‘An hour ago and now claiming he loves me, oooo the, the.. Asshole’
“I believe the expression you used was: “I have seventeen other birds on the side, that I like to shag from time to time.” Oh, and before you even think about going after Dean, he didn’t say a word to me. Winky overheard you. You really shouldn’t tell secrets unless you are certain you won’t be overheard by those who are loyal to the other side.”
Exhausted and disgusted by her mental exploration, Hermione sat heavily, unconcerned that the action opened her robe to expose her breasts.
As was said before, Ron wasn’t stupid. He immediately understood the only reason Hermione could appear naked under Harry’s robe. He went ape shit.
“You’re shagging Harry! Admit it, you slag!”
Harry didn’t use any magic. He didn’t need it. His punch broke Ron’s long nose and flung the now unconscious man across the room. He made a portkey, to the pigsty at the Burrow, and dumped it onto Ron’s chest. Three seconds later, the redhead vanished.
“I really wish you hadn’t done that.”
“You and me, both, ‘Mione. But, I won’t tolerate anyone calling you something like that ever!.” Harry wrapped his arms around his new-found lover. Hermione smiled in contentment, and cuddled into his embrace. ‘Oh sweet Maeve she loved this man‘.
“Harry that was the last time Ron will ever see me this way”
Harry smiled knowly.
“So, what do you want to do today?”
Harry smirked. Hermione snorted in a mixture of amusement and aggravation.
“Don’t be silly, Harry. We can’t do that all day!” Although inside, she wanted nothing less.
“We could try.” Harry shot back. He tipped his head to hers and met her mouth. Hermione had anticipated his invitation and was ready. Her lips parted at the first contact, and seconds later she moaned in pleasure as he gently massaged her teeth with his tongue. She held him tighter, and realized, from his physical reaction, that yes, he could indeed, ‘do that all day’!
He pressed gently ready to back off at the first sign of resistance. Hermione realized he was still quite nervous as to their newly developed relationship and would likely bolt if she gave even the slightest reason for him to think his advances were unwanted.
She sighed in frustration. Harry, as expected, broke the kiss and attempted to retreat. Hermione pulled him closer, if that was physically possible, and would not release him.
“No, Harry. I’m not angry or upset with you. It’s those damned…thrice be-damned Dursleys, that I could kill!”
“Hermione, they’re dead. They can’t do anything, anymore.”
“I know, Harry, but they’ve done so much harm to you already. I wonder if we can ever make it better.”
Harry ended that conversation by rejoining his lips to hers. As before, Hermione granted him instant access. As their tongues fought a soft but insistent battle to claim the limited space, Hermione ran her fingers up Harry’s back, to twine in his unruly hair. He returned the favor in a like manner, cupping her head in one hand to hold her to him. His other hand found it’s way to her lower back, where it rested, tracing circles along her spine.
His body seemed to move of it’s own volition, his hips thrusting forward insistently, pressing his erection against her lower belly. Hermione felt herself begin to heat.
Finally, she broke the kiss, and said, her eyes dark with lust: “OK, but just one more go. Then we go out and do something good for the both of us.”
“Are you saying that mind-blowing sex isn’t good for the both of us?”
“Of course not, silly!” She protested, parting the lapels of Harry’s emerald bathrobe, and running her hands across his skin. He pulled away long enough to open her own robe and expose her breasts. Immediately, he bent his head and latched onto one nipple.
Already aroused, her nipple became harder as he laved it with his silky-coarse tongue. Hermione closed her eyes and threw back her head in pleasure. He burrowed one hand under her still-belted robe, and eased it between her legs. She was already wet. Harry slid his fingers along her opening, lubricating them with her fluids. Hermione opened her legs a bit to give him access. All the while, her own hands had not been idle.
She quickly unbelted his own robe, and lowered her hand to his groin, to find his cock hard as steel. Gripping it gently, she stroked up and down it’s length a few times. Harry had begun stroking her clit, and now, he slipped his fingers inside her. Hermione almost came there on the spot!
“I’m ready, Harry.” She rasped against his neck. “Fuck me!”
Harry backed her against the wall, pulled his fingers free, and holding her robe away, he eased into her.
Hermione screamed softly as she felt herself being filled once again. They were almost same of a height, due in no small part, to Harry’s near starvation during his childhood with those misbegotten Dursleys, so making love while standing, was very possible.
to the position, Harry’s shaft rubbed directly against Hermione’s clit, bringing her to climax almost immediately. As soon as she began to come, Harry began to stroke faster. Hermione fell into another violent orgasm, one of many, that would rip through her before Harry finally let himself go.
Harry shifted his position from time to time to make things more interesting for her. Each change brought forth new and more wonderful sensations for Hermione. Again, and again she came, clutching Harry to her. She absolutely knew that if she were to let him go, even for a second, she would fall to the floor in a boneless heap of quivering flesh. The cleverest witch of her age was certainly smart enough to hold him tightly to her.
Harry began to pump fast and hard now, intending to ensure he shared this climax with her.
At long last, Hermione cried out, as she again felt Harry’s liquid heat fill her past the point of capacity.
‘Sweet Merlin he’s running down my legs’ Hermione moaned.
They ended up making love three more times before calling it quits, and leaving Harry’s home. They apparated to London, and went shopping.
The two lovers wandered aimlessly through the Piccadilly Circus, peering into store windows, and buying whatever suited their fancy. Hermione saw a beautiful down comforter, and pointed it out to Harry. He immediately led her into the shop and asked the clerk there, if they had more. In the end, he bought three and ordered three more. The mistress there, smiled brightly at his purchases, knowing she’d made a great deal of money that day, and assured him that she would send them to his home immediately. Harry told her he had a car available. She had one of her clerks take them to the loading dock behind the store, where Harry cast a mild confundus charm, instructed him to report he’d loaded them into a dark green mini, and handed him a fiver. As the young man reentered the store, Harry cast a shrinking charm on the quilts, reducing them to the size of handkerchiefs, and stuffed them into his bag. From there, they wandered around, looking into several other shops. Since Harry’s home was already well appointed, the only things they really needed were inconsequential’s. Together, they shopped until they were tired.
“Let’s stop here.” Harry suggested, pointing at a little Italian restaurant, hidden away in a cul-de-sac off of Haymarket.
“OK.” Hermione agreed, gazing at her lover with more than affection. Harry gently steered her into the restaurant with a hand around her waist.
“Ah! Bon journo, Signore, et Signorella. Benvenuto al ristorante’ Italiano del Thomaso.” A rather round man with a florid face and a black moustache greeted them in Italian.
“Ainglez’ por favore’?” Harry asked.
“Ah, si gratze’! You would like table, please?” He asked in heavily accented English. “For two?”
“Yes, please.”
“Please, coming this way. Please.” He led them to a cozy little table for two, in front of a many-paned window, that overlooked a tiny garden to the rear of the restaurant. The early afternoon light filtered through the hazy overcast made the garden glow with muted colors. Hermione sighed with pleasure at the sight.
Harry seated Hermione, then himself. The man returned to the kitchen, yelling something. Moments later, a pretty, black haired woman of about thirty years, approached their table. She smiled brightly at Harry, and almost so at Hermione. Harry interpreted her glance and took Hermione’s hand. Trying to recover her composure, she spoke in Italian accented English.
“I am Angelina. You would like…to drink…ah, something to drink?”
Harry agreed, ordering a large antipasto platter, and two glasses of milk, in somewhat faulty, classical Italian. Hermione’s eyes lit up and she grinned brightly enough to light the entire place.
Angelina’s eyes also sparkled in the subdued light. In English, she whispered throatily. “Oh, so you speak Italiano, very good too! If the lady doesn’t do it for you, tonight, you come see me. I will see you happy!”
Hermione felt a tingle where Harry’s hand still covered hers. As he stroked her fingers, she saw a beautiful wedding band set on her third finger. The bands were platinum with red and yellow gold inset in a crosshatch pattern. The engagement ring bore a half-carat diamond in an oval cut with a smaller baguette cut diamond on either side, and the wedding band carried two stones; a ruby and a sapphire, flanking the diamond. The waitress saw it as well, and flushed.
“Thank you, no. My wife and I are quite happy together!”
“Oh! Scusi, please. I meant no insult!”
Hermione spoke now, also in Italian. “Non si preoccupi. Otteniamo quello tutto il tempo. Ogni ragazza con anima in lei vena lo desidera. E tutti che passa fare per mantenera il suo abbastanza piccolo capa per adattare attraverso il portello!”
Both women laughed brightly, at this. Harry, whose limited understanding of the Italian language had been exhausted by the menu, simply sat there, knowing he was being teasingly insulted.
When Angelina left, Hermione refused to tell him what they had been discussing; saying only that it was ‘girl stuff’. Lifting her beringed hand, she whispered: “It’s lovely, Harry. Thank you.”
“It was my mother’s. I hope you’ll wear it. You’ll have to give the wedding band back until the ceremony, of course, but I’d really love for you to have it.”
“I’ll never take it off.” Hermione whispered, a tear of joy finding it’s way down her cheek.
Harry brushed it away with his thumb, saying “Nothing but the best for you, my love. You deserve it.”
As he brushed the tear away. Hermione thought of the many times he’d done so in the past, and cursed herself for a fool as she recalled how gentle he was.
Angelina returned quickly with a large antipasto tray, laid out with cheeses, vegetables, thinly sliced meats, sausages, breads, and olives, both green and black. Three bowls in the center of the platter held sour cream mixed with minced shallots, Marinara, and fresh-grated Parmesan cheese. She set the tray on a stand beside the small table and deposited the milk jug next to them, all the while staring at the rock Hermione wore.
“Oooh! That looks yummy!” She commented. “But why the milk? I would have thought…”
“The milk is like the antipasto. It’s to coat your stomach, to prepare it for the acids we’re going to eat. We’ll have wine with dinner…if you wish. Speaking of which, I hear the lasagna here is excellent!”
“I’d heard that too. In fact, I’ve heard lots of really good things about Thomaso’s. Who’d have thought I’d end up here? It’s supposed to be really pricey!”
“You’d prefer fish and chips?”
“A most emphatic NO!” Hermione grinned.
They picked at their antipasto in a companionable silence, until Angelina returned with the menus.
Harry ordered the lasagna and a Caesar salad for both of them after a nod from Hermione. He also ordered a carafe of the house burgundy, stating: ‘If Thomaso had selected the wine for his own table, it would be prefect for theirs.’ That comment had garnered him brilliant smiles from both Angelina and Thomaso. Harry asked Angelina to wait on both for at least forty five minutes. She said she would, and departed.
Harry and Hermione nibbled at the antipasto and chatted amiably about anything and everything…the only subject off limits, by unspoken consensus, was Ron and his deception.
When the requisite time had elapsed, Angelina returned with the lasagna, salads and the wine. She also brought a few baguettes of crusty bread, fresh from the oven and spiced heavily with Rosemary. She took away the antipasto tray and left the lovers alone.
Hermione took a bite of the lasagna and squealed in bliss. “Harry! This is soooo delicious! Go on. Try it!” She lifted a bite on her fork and held it out for him to taste.
Harry understood the honor she’d paid him and took the fork into his mouth. He found himself in instant agreement with his betrothed. The lasagna was excellent. The Burgundy complementing the dish perfectly.
“We have to come here often.”
“Mmmmhmmm!”
An hour later, after ices, coffee and pastries, Harry and Hermione, now replete, rose. Thomaso, greeted them again, and presented Harry with the bill. Forty seven pounds was a bit on the pricey side, but Harry handed over his credit card without batting an eye. He asked Thomaso to add twenty pounds to the bill for Angelina. Thomaso smiled widely and did so.
Outside the restaurant, Hermione commented: “You know, with the way you tip, you’ll be welcome here anytime!”
Harry just grinned. “I’ve got it, why hoard it?”
They wandered the circus for a time, seeing what was to be seen. Stopping from time to time to feed the pigeons, kiss, or just to hold each other. Hermione spied the beautiful stone ‘Eros’ fountain. She dragged Harry over to it and asked him for a two pence coin. Harry handed her the copper, and closing her eyes, she tossed it over her shoulder into the water.
Harry hugged her close and asked quietly: “Did you get your wish?” Hermione brought her lips up to his and murmured “Mmmmhmmm!”
Breaking the kiss, she said “Harry! It’s your turn! You wish for something.”
“I don’t need to. I already have everything I could ever want, right here.”
Hermione’s eyes positively glowed. Teasing, she murmured: “You don’t have to say things like that to get into my knickers, Harry.” She flushed, and buried her head in his chest.
“Hermione, I’m not saying that as an excuse to get you into bed. You’ve given me two of the three gifts dearest to my heart. You gave me your friendship more than ten years ago, and now, you’ve given me your love.”
Hermione turned her face to his. Happy tears leaked from her eyes. “What’s the third?”
“A child. A child of the both of us.” He spoke so softly, Hermione could barely hear, but she understood fully.
“Then let’s go home and make a family, my love.” She murmured.
Harry lifted her chin, and kissed her again, softly, tenderly, fully.
Returning home, Harry unloaded their purchases and led Hermione into the kitchen. Without a word, he lifted her up onto the table and knelt before her. He flipped up her skirt and tugged her knickers aside, immediately applying his tongue to her clit.
Shocked, Hermione could only gasp in pleasure at this friendly assault. Any thoughts of protest flew immediately out the window. Soon enough, she had no rational thoughts in her head, whatsoever, as his velvety smooth tongue caressed her clit. Instinctively, she rolled back onto her arse, to expose herself more fully to him. Harry pulled her knickers off and tossed them over his shoulder, then pressed in with a fervor she’d never seen before. Hermione rested one leg on his back, while drawing the other up onto the table.
“Oh, yes, Harry! Just there!” She cried. Ron had rarely attempted this, and then only as a prerequisite for ‘the good stuff’ as he was to say. He’d only go down on her long enough to ensure she was wetted enough to take him in. Often, he wouldn’t even do that; he’d just finger her a bit and then plow right in! This on the other hand was heavenly. This was the man she love, who loved her loving her. The Hell with Ron, he can’t come any where near anything, compared to Harry, My Sweet Loving Harry, “AHhhhhhh Harrrryyy“.
Harry licked and sucked, kissed, nibbled, teased and tormented her clit to such a level that Hermione fell back crying out her pleasure. Hands wandered, opening clothing, until, after three more repeats, He finally eased back. Hermione lay there panting, naked from waist down, and nearly so up. Harry stood and helped her to stand up, only to turn her around and bend her over the table. Hermione had hoped for this! Harry held her lips open as she eased his cock into her. She cried out a stifled moan as he sank slowly into her body.
“Fast, Harry! Fuck me hard!” She ordered. She had had hers. Now, she wanted Harry to find his release!
Ever the gentleman, Harry did as she bade him. He gripped her arse firmly and began to pump. Out and in, in and out. He drove fast, and he drove deep! Hermione moaned and cried out with each thrust. Sweating and panting they both moved together, causing the table to creak alarmingly in protest.
Paying it no mind, Harry went on thrusting smoothly into her. Hermione grasped the table trying to brace herself against the rocking. She wasn’t having much luck. She kept slipping this way and that.
From the next room, Dobby and Winky tried to ignore the impassioned noises coming from the kitchen. Winky scowled at the thought of the mess she’d have to clean up, until Dobby called her on it.
“We is bonded to the greatest and kindest wizard in the world. He is bonding with the witch that means more to him than anything else. Mister Harry Potter sir, has seen far too much pain. He deserves this happiness!”
Winky flushed and nodded, ashamed to have thought of her own happiness before that of her master.
She reached for her ears when Dobby gently took her hands and spoke quietly. ‘There will be no punishing here. Mister Harry Potter sir does not allow it!”
Feeling the tingle that told him he was getting close, Harry began to drive furiously. The slap of flesh against wet flesh was loud in the room, and Hermione’s moaning cries were much louder!
He plowed into the gasping, crying woman on his kitchen table, intending, for damn sure, that he was going to get this last one!
He did. With a last mighty heave, Harry grunted harshly and erupted into the body of his beloved, pulsing deeply within her. Hermione cried out loudly as she felt herself being filled yet again. Harry fell on top of her, spent. He thought nothing of the nasty ‘crack’ he heard from the abused table.
Exhausted, Harry summoned his magic and thinking very carefully and deliberately, he apparated them into his bed. There, they fell into the deepest slumber. He still inside her.
Three hours later, Hermione woke, stiff and sore, to the call of nature. That last go had almost killed her, dead! She smiled widely in recall, thinking; ‘But what a way to go!’ and then eased herself from the bed. Stumbling to the bath, she visited the loo, than turned to the shower. Winky was there to greet her.
“Good afternoon, Miss Hermione Granger. How may Winky serve you today?”
“Good after…” She yawned widely, then finished. “…noon, Winky. What time is it?” She asked, stretching as far as she could. Hearing the pop and crackle of easing bones, she returned her attention to the helpful house-elf.
“It is five fourteen in the afternoon, Miss Hermione Granger.
“Oh. OK, That gives me a few hours. Winky, would you and Dobby see to it that Harry does not wake up until I return? He is very tired after all!” She shrugged her shoulders and rolled her head in an attempt to get the last kinks out.
“Yes, Winky knows. Winky and Dobby heard Miss and Master in the kitchen. Dobby had to repair the table!” Immediately Hermione blushed brightly.
“You heard?” She was mortified!
“Miss, from the noise you was making, it is only because of the silencing charms around this house, that the muggle please-men are not here!” Winky’s tone was admonishing, but she wore a cheerful smile that took the sting out of her rebuke.
Again, Hermione blushed, furiously. “Oh, my God!” She moaned in embarrassment.
Winky put her out of her misery. “You was saying?”
Hermione was startled by the segue, but recovered quickly. “Oh, yes. I’m going to shower, and then I’m going to talk to Ginny. Would you make sure Harry gets a peaceful sleep until I return?”
“Winky will do, Miss Hermione Granger.”
“Thank you, Winky.” Winky popped away, obviously intending to share her instructions with Dobby.
Hermione gratefully stepped into the steaming shower, letting the nearly scalding water sooth her aches. Those the water couldn’t reach, she handled with magic.
Hermione, now dressed in a deep hunter’s green woolen skirt, and maroon silk blouse, shrugged into a matching green, wool coat.
“Winky” she said , the little elf was picking up the dirty towels.
“Yes, Miss Hermione Granger. How may Winky serve …” as she turned to Hermione.
“I’ll be back later this evening. I may eat over at Ginny’s, so if I’m not here by seven, go ahead and wake Harry. Tell him I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Winky will do, Miss Hermione Granger.” The house elf promised. Dobby nodded his head in agreement, then turned once more to his cleaning.
Hermione walked out the door, and apparated away.
*******************************************************************************************************************
“Ah! Bon journo, Signore, et Signorella. . Benvenuto al ristorante’ Italiano del Thomaso.” (“Oh, Good day sir and Miss. Welcome to Thomaso’s Italian restaurant.”)
“Ainglez’ por favore’?” (“English, please?)
“Ah, si gratze’!” (“Oh, yes, thank you!”)
“Non si preoccupi. Otteniamo quello tutto il tempo. Ogni ragazza con anima in lei vena lo desidera. E tutti che passa fare per mantenera il suo abbastanza piccolo capa per adattare attraverso il portello!” (“Don’t worry. We get that all the time. Every girl with blood in her veins wants him. It’s all I can do to keep his head small enough to fit through the door!”)

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