AN: I was working on Oracles when I was bitten by a very unforgiving, unwavering plot-bunny. Now that I've fed the bunny maybe it will go away.

As a side note, I am still working on Oracles when I can, but updates will only be available on my Yahoo Group (link in profile) until I am far enough along that I can update here regularly.

Upstairs at 12 Grimmauld Place…

"I'm going to slip into something a little more comfortable. Why don't you drink the potion, then go down and grab the items on the list from the kitchen?"

Down in the kitchen, 12 GP

It had been a very odd day for Harry Potter—the end of an odd week really. Not since Voldemort's downfall just prior to their Hogwarts graduation a few years ago had things seemed so off kilter. And not just for him, his roommates had been enduring their own strings of extraordinarily weird events. Ron had been lost in a daze for the past week or so. Hermione had been fired from her job at Dervish and Banges in Hogsmeade for showing customers how to fix their broken things instead of showing them new items from the shelves or seeing if they would like to have D&B fix it for them—all for a nominal fee, of course. And now the oddest of all had happened to Harry during today's auror cadet training. Moody was hit by a strange spell by one of the weaker cadets during a mock battle. That by alone wasn't all that unusual. What was unusual was that Moody let his guard down entirely as he casually approached the fallen young cadet to finish him off. Preposterous! With Moody now resting comfortably at St. Mungo's, the cadets were excused for the afternoon.

He was still pondering the week's events when landed in the floo at home. He stepped out of the grate to see an exact replica of himself rummaging through the icebox.

"Incarcerus! Petrificus totalis!"

The imposter immediately found himself pinned against the wall with a wand at his throat. Harry's voice came out with a growl, "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Although the imposter had Harry's body, he definitely didn't have the same confidence in his voice, "Name's S-s-shaun. I-I work for an escort service on the far end of Diagon Alley, th-th-the lady upstairs contracted my services. S-s-she wanted the p-p-polyjuice service. S-s-she said she would provide the sample."

Harry stood there, momentarily dumbfounded, as his mind processed everything. 'Hermione paid an escort to come and impersonate him? But why?' He gasped as one unlikely idea lumbered through his head. 'No, surely not,' he thought as he looked toward the stairway, 'Only one way to find out, I guess.'

Harry focused his attention back to his prisoner, "What were you doing down here?"

The man's voice steadied slightly, "The lady told me to drink the potion and then collect the things on the table and go back up to her room." Harry glanced over at the table and saw whipped cream, strawberries, cherries, grapes, cinnamon and pumpkin spices, chocolate and some ice. His eyebrows furrowed together.

"I want you to take a wizard's oath that you will NOT reveal the identity of your client, her intentions, or that you were ever here."

"I don't even know where 'here' is, she tandem apparated us, and we always hold our clients' in strict confidence," the man interjected.

"Fine, I still want that oath."

The man gave said oath and used the floo to make his escape. The man had unnerving smile on his face as he left knowing that he enough remaining hair samples to make several other paying customers very happy.

Harry collected the tray and walked toward the stairs to find his answers. As he ascended the stairs, he thought of the bushy-haired girl he fell in love with during second year. Her absence from the trio while she had been petrified had changed him. Their adventures alone together during third year in saving Sirius had only cemented his love for her. He had finally decided that he was going to tell her that he loved her during fourth year until he saw that Ron was clearly smitten with her. He couldn't bring himself to break his best mate's heart. The happenings at the end of their fifth year reaffirmed to him that he had done the right thing in ignoring those feelings. Their journey to the ministry had left her near death and drove home the point that there was a clear and present danger now, and that Hermione would become a primary target if the two of them got involved. He never wanted to see her hurt like that again.

He shook his head to clear such unpleasant thoughts. Voldemort was gone now but sightings of several small groups of death eaters dotted the news now and again. Besides, she was dating and happy now. Memories flashed in his eyes as he remembered how stunningly beautiful she had looked only a few months ago at a ball held in their honor at the ministry. Her laughter was music to his ears as she danced with her boyfriend. He stopped when he saw that he had reached her bedroom door. 'Yes, she's happy now,' he thought wistfully, '…and that'll be enough.'

The door in front of him opened quickly and Hermione stopped abruptly as she him in there. Her surprised look melted quickly into a devilish, sultry smile. She was dressed in nothing but a white, lacy, two-piece set of undergarments and a completely sheer dressing gown that concealed nothing. Her voice matched her smile and the outfit, "I'm glad you didn't get lost. I paid for the full hour, and I intend to make good use of it." All thoughts of Hermione the Bookworm, Hermione the Friend, Beautiful Hermione, Smart and Clever Hermione, and Smiling, Happy Hermione flew out the window. The gorgeous and dead sexy woman standing in front of him replaced all previous thoughts of his Hermione. His jaw dropped, and it and his legs forgot how to move of their own accord.

Hermione giggled at his reaction and whispered a quick 'thank you' in his ear as she took the tray from him and set it on a small table on the other side of the room.

"What for?" he finally stammered out as she approached him again.

"You obviously like what you see, right?" Harry somehow managed to nod meekly in response. "Well, I'm no expert, but your reaction to the outfit was quite complimentary." She moved in close to him and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "Enough talk, I want to make love to my Harry now."

Harry was just figuring out how object to her statement when she pulled his head down and planted a soft, sensual kiss on his lips. His brain promptly shut down, and his body was rendered paralyzed again. His body went from ice to fire as she began to suck gently on his lower lip. He reacted on instinct and pulled her close as he began ravaging her lips fiercely. She responded in kind and pulled him across the room near her bed. She furiously worked to open the buttons of his shirt as he pushed his tongue through her lips and desperately explored the new territory. She was finally able to unbutton his shirt and pushed it back over his shoulders. She traced her fingernails lightly over the skin of arms, leaving a trail of flames as she went, and Harry reacted with a hiss. Harry finally left his arms relax enough to let the shirt fall to the floor. His hands, now free from their bindings, took refuge on both sides of her jaw as he sought to deepen the kiss.

Her breathing became ragged as she fumbled frantically with the fastenings of his trousers. The jiggling caused by her ruffling the front of his pants nearly drove him mad as he hissed through his teeth once again until his pants dropped to a pool around his ankles.

He needed more.

His mouth moved to the nape of her neck and suckled there lightly as his hands made their way down to her breasts. He curled his fingers and ran them over the satiny material from the underside of her breasts toward the nipples. She shuddered under his touch. "Oh Harry," she moaned as the heat of her breath drafted over his ear. He cupped both breasts in hands and ran the tips of his thumbs over her excited if still cloth-covered nipples then again scraped his fingernails across the bottoms of her breasts. Hermione was now panting and having a difficult time catching her breath. For Harry though, this was still not enough.

More. He needed more. He had to have more.

Harry's arms encircled her in an effort to remove the silky cloth barrier between them. Harry and Hermione's mouths met again in a flurry of passionate kisses as he clumsily attempted to unclasp her bra. He tried for what seemed like an eternity to unfasten it. He grabbed it in his fist and growled in frustration. This frustration released a burst of pure magic that caused the offending undergarment to vanish. The sudden feel of skin-to-skin contact was heavenly to both of them if he judged her response correctly.

He wrapped her up in his arms and wound his hands wildly through her hair as she dropped her head to leave trails of small nips along his neck and shoulder. He turned his head to hers and caught the only thing he could, her earlobe, and tenderly scraped his teeth over it. He continued lavishing it with attention by alternately flicking it with the tip of his tongue and sucking it affectionately. She responded by embracing him tightly. Her nails' trail marks felt like those of a hot brazier on the flesh of his back.

More! More! MORE!

He slunk his hands below her waist and kneaded the flesh of her rump through the material of her knickers. She caught her breath and rose on her toes slightly and lifted a leg around his waist. He immediately took advantage of the opportunity and dropped his hands a little lower, lifted her small body off the floor and laid her softly on the bed.

Whatever cloth still remained between them was quickly removed and dropped to the floor. With little preamble or foreplay, their two bodies melded themselves to each other. There was nothing slow, sensual, or deliberate about it. It was fast, hard, and intense. These two people were furiously looking to fill a void, a need, within them. Their pace quickened as both sensed that they were close to finding that fulfillment, that contentment.

She tightened herself around him as she began to lose herself in the waves of her orgasm. Wave over wave crashed into her as the missing piece that she had so desperately been seeking fell into place. Harry, too, felt the pressure of his own impending orgasm building and pounded himself furiously into her—letting go the years of want, need, and frustration of not being able to be with her. He held on as long as he could until his body overrode his mind, and he spilled himself completely into her. He pumped with reckless abandon, starting to become afraid that he was never going to stop.

After what felt like several minutes but in actuality was only several seconds, his orgasm eventually waned. The both of them were now completely exhausted. It took every ounce of Harry's remaining strength to withdraw from her, lay on the bed beside her and cover them both. Everything else would have to wait until later.

Sometime near dawn, Hermione started to stir from her sleep. She breathed out a contented sigh as she turned on her side and saw the red, orange and yellow hues that announced the sunrise. She smiled as she remembered the feeling of her earlier 'activities.'

'I'm no expert on the subject, but that was by far the best sex I've ever had, bar none.'

She felt the bed shift beneath her as her partner from the previous day turned over.

She closed her eyes to savor the memory of her Harry making love to her. She stayed on her side; refusing to look at the person she'd had relations with. Seeing the other man's face now would ruin it altogether. Though after the performance she'd been privy to, she was grateful enough to allow him a bit of rest.

The bed shifted again as he rolled. The man's right arm came to rest on her waist and his hand lightly cupped her. She took a moment to look down at the hand and saw that the man wore a ring. The ring looked familiar somehow…

She searched her memory as she tried to remember where she had seen that ring. Her breath caught as she remembered. 'Oh dear Merlin, that's the Potter family ring! Nobody can wear it but Harry—the REAL Harry!' She tried to break free, but the arm tensed and held her firmly in place.

"Good morning," came an all to familiar voice, "Sleep well?"

She rolled over to face the man, and sure enough, the vibrant and alive green eyes of the real Harry Potter were gazing at her. She thought of what she had done yesterday in a desperate attempt to right her world after losing her job and her boyfriend in succession. She had paid an escort to have sex with her in her best friend's image—in an endeavor that she thought would finally put to rest the dreams she knew would never come true. The dreams that one day her best friend would come to love her as much as she loved him.

Her eyes watered as the guilt of how she had betrayed her best friend so horribly washed over her. She felt dirty. She felt cheap. She felt worthless.

She felt Harry tilt her chin up to look at her and her eyes focused again. He petted her head tenderly, "Hermione, what's wrong? Whatever it is, we'll talk about it. We'll work it out, okay?" Harry pulled her close and enveloped her in his embrace. This was too much for the young woman, as her composure finally faulted. Her body wracked as she sobbed into his chest. She kept mumbling over and over again that she was sorry. He continued to stroke the top of her head and spoke softly to comfort her.

When she had calmed down a bit, she finally looked up at him and asked the uncomfortable question, "Harry? Did we, …you know?"

Harry smiled, "Oh yes, we did. I feel pretty comfortable in saying that it was absolutely fabulous, even if it was my first time out."

Hermione gasped in horror, "I took your virginity! Oh God, Harry, I'm so sorry! God, I just feel worse if that's possible."

He wrapped her up again. "Hey, none of that now," he said gently. "I ended up saving myself for someone that I truly loved; someone I trusted. I couldn't ask for more."

"But how can you say that! I basically raped you!" she yelled.

"Hermione, if I was that worried about it, I could've stopped you at any time. I'm not a weakling, you know. Besides, I've been hoping for ages that this might happen someday."

Hermione looked up at him pleading, hoping, "Harry, do you mean that? I mean, do you really, really mean that? Please don't toy with me, Harry, because I don't think my heart could take it."

"On my honour and on my magic, I'm telling the truth, Hermione. I've been in love with you since our second year. I didn't know what it was at that time, but I have since fifth year." A brief, bluish glow connected the two of them.

Once she saw the glow, she knew it was true without a doubt and lunged at him with relief and joy written all over face. She peppered his face with kisses between reciting a plethora of "I love you's."

They cuddled and talked for several hours about their feelings, their pasts and slowly worked into talking about the future, but a portion of that had already been decided for them.

Platform 9 ¾ - 12 years later…

Harry and Hermione Potter watched as their firstborn, Shaun Sirius Potter, hugged them, said goodbye to his brother and sisters and the veritable sea of Weasleys as he boarded the Hogwarts Express with Bill and Fleur's school-age daughters and Remus and Tonks' adopted son.

Harry and Hermione hugged their remaining children on the platform and sent them off with Molly and Arthur, who had agreed to watch them for the night. They said that having all the grandkids over kept them from feeling left out when the older ones leave on the Express every year.

"Well, it appears we have the day to ourselves, Mrs. Potter. Care to recreate the day Shaun became a part of our lives?" Harry asked lasciviously. "I can be your man-whore again," he added hopefully.

She slapped him hard on the arm, "Harry! You know I still have somewhat mixed emotions about that! I still can't see how you convinced me to name him after the poor man you nearly killed."

"Must've been the pain potions," he kidded.

"Harry, be serious!"

"I can't, Hermione. Sirius just left on the train." Harry chortled at his own joke while Hermione gave him a tight-lipped glare. They settled back into an amicable silence quickly.



"You never did tell me why you waited so long before allowing me to be your first."

"No, I suppose I didn't. Well, part of it was because of Voldemort. I was afraid to get involved with anyone. Aside from the whole 'love potion' fiasco in sixth year, I avoided relationships. After Voldemort was gone, I was deluged with all sorts of solicitous offers. I didn't want to open up the floodgates to a bunch of claims about women carrying Harry Potter's lovechild—not that it didn't happen anyway. This way, all it took was to cast one spell to instantly prove my innocence," Harry sighed remembering the pressure that went with those times. "At the end of it all, I saved myself for the woman that I loved and wanted to marry. I've never regretted it since."

Hermione took his arm and snuggled up against him. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you too," he declared. "Now let's get going, I've made reservations at that Italian place you like so much down in Brighton." With that, they couple disappeared with a soft pop.

-- Fin.