Author: heysakuya / supersonicchica (livejournal)

Beta: marauderswolf

Title: Despairing Affection

Prompt: #127 and #150

Pairing: Harry/Hermione

Rating: M

Warnings: Dub-con, Bondage, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Orgasm Denial, Violence, Dark Themes…

Summary: When Harry mysteriously goes missing after the war, the Order frantically searches for him. Years later, Hermione stumbles across Harry on a hunch from the Ministry. Will she be reunited with one of her dearest friends, or will the violence and darkness that is consuming Harry threaten the peace that he once fought for?

Notes: So this is not only my first attempt at a writing fest of any kind, but this, ladies and gentlemen, is my first attempt at a one-shot and a lemon to boot. Many thanks go out to my regular beta, marauderswolf, for always being there when I need you. First, may I make my apologies to the prompt requestor? I know that you were probably expecting something else from this prompt, but it kind of took on a life of its own, and as I wrote it down I realized that I pilfered some themes from prompt #150 which was also requested by you. I hope that I put a little of both in this fic and that you can look beyond its dub-con warning. I promise that it is more for the plot and not so much for the kink.

Written for the 3rd round of HP_Emofest at Livejournal . com

Shame, such a shame
I think I kind of lost myself again
Day, yesterday
Really should be leaving but I stay

Fade, made to fade
Passion's overrated anyway
Say, say my name
I need a little love to ease the pain
I need a little love to ease the pain
It's easy to remember when it came

I've been here before
You are not my savior
But I still don't go, oh

'Cause it feels like I've been

I feel like something
That I've done before
I could fake it
But I still want more, oh.

"Dissolved Girl" (Excerpt) by: Massive Attack

Despairing Affection

The deceiver and wickedness that was Lord Voldemort had been eradicated by the Chosen One himself, just as the prophecy foretold. Chaos had erupted in the castle after the slight teen wizard had defeated the Dark Lord. Aurors were rounding up the remaining Death Eaters. Order members were tending to the injured and dead, and children were being instructed to leave the crumbling remains of Hogwarts for their safety. The second war had raged and been won, and peace would soon be coming to the remaining survivors of England's wizarding race, but for now all Harry wanted was a good night's rest. He retreated to Gryffindor Tower and hoped that perhaps Kreacher might be well enough to bring him up a sandwich. Several hours later, an exhausted Ron and Hermione trudged up the tower to check on Harry, only to find his bed empty and the sheets cool to the touch. No one had seen Harry since.


Three years. Three years it has been since You-Know-Who's fall. The wizarding world now seemed to be lulled into a sense of tranquility. It was chaos at first, rebuilding our nation. We started with the corrupted Ministry and then, literally reconstructed the battered remains of Hogwarts itself. It was hard and tedious work, but we managed to get the job done efficiently and quietly. Celebrations had been thrown and medals given out, but a huge piece was missing. Harry deserved all of the glory that was being thrown at Ron and myself. We're still not quite sure what happened to him. Was he taken by a rogue Death Eater? It didn't seem likely, as almost all of them were rounded up and either imprisoned or given the Dementor's kiss. Did he just leave simply of his own accord? Yes, we believe so.

Ron and I figured he just needed time to gather his strength and have some peace and quiet before trying to attempt a normal routine, a few weeks at most. When weeks turned to months, we started to get restless. When months finally hit the year mark, we decided it was time to seek him out. So Ron, the other Order members and I started to search for any sign of Harry. Any tip at all, and one of us would investigate. We would hear a rumor, or hear that there was a sighting. We never turned up anything, other than speculation and disappointment. Ginny was, at first, hysterical and slowly as our searches started to become more sporadic, grew utterly despondent. It was heart-wrenching to witness her depression overtake her.

As it was Thursday, I was heading to the Burrow for any news at all about Harry. Usually, we would hear nothing, and the weekly evenings soon grew into more of a social gathering than a search party. I locked the door to the flat that Ron and I shared and Apparated to the Burrow. Ron would be meeting me there after he finished work. As I opened the door, I noticed that the atmosphere was a bit different today. An excited vibe seemed to fill the house with a frenzied energy.

Bill greeted me first. "Oh, good you're finally here," he said. "Everyone is in the kitchen already." Bill motioned to the kitchen behind him.

I nodded and stepped into the kitchen. Ron was already there, sitting by his brother, George. I sat next to him and kissed his cheek lightly.

"Hey Mione, it's a good thing you got here in time," he said as he threaded his fingers into mine.

"Why, what's going on?" I asked.

"I dunno. All I know is that Dad wanted all of us to come quickly. I left work early just to see what he's going on about." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Oh, maybe he heard something about Harry," I responded.

"Maybe." He looked at me skeptically.

Even Ron had lost hope. I sat at the table and somberly looked down at my hands. I had disentangled them from him and folded on my lap. I couldn't stand this hyper energy swirling around me. It was times like these that reminded me how much the Weasleys were a force all on their own. Soon, Mr. Weasley walked through the door and was greeted by Molly before coming to the table where the rest of the surviving Order members sat. He took his seat at the head of the table and looked at us all. He was about to speak when George interrupted.

"Get it out, Dad. What was so important that we had to meet up early? Some of us have jobs, you know?" he quipped sarcastically.

Yes, George the master of class and subtlety strikes again, I thought with a slight sneer on my face. Mr. Weasley looked around and finally spit out the news we were waiting for.

"I think we might have found him…" he trailed off.

The room was suddenly filled with a cacophony of sound. One sentence was all it took to explode the table lined with redheads. They were all talking loudly, each trying to overcome one other. I sat still, staring at my hands, not quite knowing what to do with them. I tried to drown out the noise with my own thoughts. 'Please, let this time be the one…' was all I repeated to myself.

"Hermione…Hermione…Hermione!" Ron finally shook me to gain my attention.

"What?" I looked around, noticing for the first time that the sound had dissipated and the room was now silent.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked.

"Oh, yes, I was just lost in my own thoughts, sorry." I laughed. It came out as a nervous sound.

"Okay, well, Dad was just telling us about what he learned. He wanted to know what you think," he informed me.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley. I just lost myself for a second. I'm listening now," I assured him.

"It's okay dear, are you sure you're alright?" He looked at me with concern.

"I'm fine," I said.

"Oh, well as I was saying, we all know that the Aurors have been tracing Harry's wand since he disappeared. Well, today, they had a hit," he explained.

I gasped.

"Yes," he continued. "They traced the source to somewhere in Essex. A small suburb named Wiltenshire. When they went to investigate, they found a small house, but it was empty and seemed to have been deserted for many years. They think he has probably moved on by now. They told me that they were discreet and meticulous. You were with Harry the longest, Hermione, so you would know his travel routine better than anyone. What do you think?" Mr. Weasley asked.

I raised a finger to show him that I needed a moment to think. After a few moments, I responded. "You said that they were discreet?" I asked, wanting him to elaborate.

"Yes, they said they found no evidence of him being there and were positive that no one saw them enter the home. They also made it clear that they didn't disturb anything as well," Mr. Weasley replied.

"And they're sure he's gone? No one is watching the house?" I questioned.

"Yes, they were pretty adamant about that part, and they didn't see the need to keep watch on the place. They said it was a dump and didn't have the resources to keep someone posted there," he clarified.

"Hmm…" I mused, "I think then, knowing Harry, he might possibly still be there or at the very least in the same area."

Mr. Weasley stood from his seat and looked at Ron. "You and Hermione go this time. I think if anyone could persuade him to come back to us, it would be you two."

"Yeah, of course we'll go. Is that alright, Mione?" Ron asked while he tapped me on the shoulder.

"What a silly question, Ronald. Certainly I'll go," I snapped. "We'll go tonight," I assured the others at the table.

Thirty minutes later, I found myself back at our flat and looking over a map with Ron. We were trying to figure out where Harry might possibly seek refuge if he wasn't at house that Mr. Weasley had described. He was able to pass along an actual address, which was a major help. The scrap of paper with the address was folded neatly and tucked away in one of my pockets. We argued over whether Harry would run into the nearby woods or look for another abandoned house.

It was the blazing green flames from the floo that disrupted our usual bickering. We turned to look towards the fireplace and noticed it was Bill.

"What's going on? Can't you see Mione and I are trying to get ready to go," Ron barked.

"The baby is coming!" Bill exclaimed.

"What? Now? Okay. Merlin, we're coming!" Ron stood from where he sat.

Fleur and Bill had been expecting their first child. We knew that the due date was close, although, this was a bit soon. I cleared off the table to get ready to meet the rest of the family at St. Mungos when I addressed Ron.

"Ron, what about Harry?" I asked.

"Shit! Well, we can always meet them up later at the hospital," he said.

"No, Ron, I'll go look. Just go to the hospital with your family," I tried to persuade him.

"Are you sure? I'd hate for you to go alone. Hold on…" Ron walked to the bedroom and after several moments emerged with a silver instrument in his hand. "Here, take this with you."

Ron handed the instrument to me.

"Your Deluminator?" I was a little shocked when he passed it to me.

"Who knows? You may need it. I know it helped me find you guys when I… well, you know," he explained sheepishly.

"Thanks, Ron." A small smile spread across my face as I pocketed the Deluminator.

Ron stepped up to me, placed a quick kiss on my cheek and then turned to the Floo.

"See you soon, hopefully with Harry in tow," he said before disappearing into the green flames.

I quickly gathered the rest of my belongings for the short trip to Essex. I started to feel a little nervous. Seeing Harry after three years of no contact was a little nerve wracking for me. I was worried about what state I might find him in. Obviously from what Mr. Weasley described, he must surely be living like a vagabond. Harry deserved a better life. I was determined to bring him home where he belonged. I closed my eyes and Apparated with thoughts of emerald eyes and lightning-shaped scars flitting through my mind.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself on a small, deserted lane. The houses that lined it were in such disrepair that I wondered if anyone actually lived here. The sun was dipping low on the horizon as sunset quickly approached. I took the small scrap of paper out of my pocket and unfolded it to read the address. 2612 Maple Lane, it read. I wasn't too far off the mark, I realized as I walked towards the right address. When I came to the end of the lane, I saw the small house. It was in as much disrepair as the others. The front was overgrown with ivy and weeds, so much so that I couldn't discern the paint color. My palms felt clammy as I gripped my wand. I wasn't quite sure what I would find in there.

Get a grip Hermione, I scolded myself. You've faced scarier things than this. Merlin, you've fought in a war and not only survived, but won as well. It's just Harry. You were with him the whole journey, you can't fail him now. Be brave for him and walk in there. He would do the same for you. He's your best friend and you love him, just do it already. Be confident! I tried to convince myself of my self-assurance, but the only thing I felt was an eerie sensation of foreshadowing dread.

I slowly walked up to the battered door and tried to turn the doorknob. Damn, locked. As silently as I could I whispered, "Alohomora." The door creaked loudly as it opened and I cringed at the sound. I was hoping to make as little noise as possible as I didn't want to spook Harry. I was quite surprised at the lack of protective enchantments. Surely, Harry wouldn't have forgotten the enchantments and charms I taught him. The thought made my heart plunge in defeat. If there were no enchantments in place, then it was more than likely Harry wasn't here anymore. Internally, I debated on whether I should just turn back now, and search the woods that lay nearby, but that dreadful feeling kept me rooted in my spot. It was the same foreboding intuition I had when Harry and I entered Bathilda Bagshot's home in Godric's Hollow.

I pushed the creaking door aside, but left the door open in case I needed to escape quickly. Raising my wand, I cast "Lumos" in a hushed voice. The house was as much a complete wreck on the inside as it was on the outside. There was no way a human could stay temporarily, let alone live in such a state. The hardwood floors of the foyer and living room were covered with mud and glass from broken windows and family portrait frames. The still pictures in the glassless frames looked tattered and yellowed. Every flat surface was covered in a thick sheet of dust and grime. I noticed that there were no fingerprints or footprints left behind. In fact, nothing had been disturbed at all. Mr. Weasley was right. It seemed that the Aurors had been extremely discreet in their search.

Rummaging through my pockets, I searched for Ron's Deluminator. I found it in one of the deep pockets of my jeans and switched it on. A globe of light sprung forth and floated above my head. Shit! I quickly clicked it again, extinguishing the light. I took a deep breath as the adrenaline pumped through my veins. That was close. I was trying to keep a low profile and I almost blew it. I was a little disappointed that it hadn't worked in the same way as it had for Ron. Leave it to Dumbledore, I grumbled in my thoughts.

I walked down the hall towards the back of the house and opened the door to what seemed to once be a dining room. The overly large cherry wood table was adorned with a full setting of china and silverware. It made me wonder what had happened to the family that once inhabited the house. I didn't see any trace of Harry ever being here, just as Mr. Weasley had said. Still, I decided to take a shot in the dark and call out for him. "Harry…" I whispered at first. "Harry…Harry!" I slowly grew louder. Finally growing frustrated I yelled out, "Harry Potter, if you are here, you better come out this instant!" Wow, I sound like my mother, I thought, shaking my head.

"Who's there?" I heard a small voice whisper. I tensed and looked all around me…nothing. I dashed to the patio door and threw it open…Nothing. I grasped my wand tightly and then silently reprimanded myself for not remembering to do this sooner.

"Homenum revelio," I shouted. A thin orange stream of light emanated from my wand and started to float to the staircase down the hall away from the dining room. I quickly followed the light up the stairs and to the closed door that I assumed was to a bedroom. I entered the dark room. "Harry?" I whispered.

"Yes. Who's there?" he asked.

"Hermione, Harry. It's Hermione." I couldn't see him anywhere, the room was too dark. The sun had entirely set and only the pale light of the moon was shining through the large window. I blindly searched for the light switch on the wall, my wand forgotten in my sudden excitement. Suddenly, I could feel someone grasping my wrist and then twisting it harshly. I screamed out in pain.

"Hermione wouldn't have come alone," he whispered in my ear. Yes, it was Harry, although his voice sounded hoarse from the lack of use.

"Then you don't remember me very clearly, Harry," I retorted.

He threw me to the center of the room onto a large bed, face down. The comforter smelled musty. Unexpectedly, I felt his weight on top of me, bearing down upon my back and thighs. I started to panic. This wasn't at all like Harry. He wouldn't do this, would he? My heart started to race.

"Harry, stop! Don't do this!" my voice was muffled by the comforter. "Please, it's me. Hermione."

"You can't see me! I… I… look different! Please don't look!" he sobbed into my hair. He grasped my head tenderly and pushed it to the side so that I could breathe and speak.

"It's okay, Harry. I'm here. I'm here now. Let me help you." I struggled against his tight grasp.

"You can't help me! It's too late. Why did you come? " he started to ramble.

"Harry, please!" My tears started to dampen the comforter and sheets below me. His weight was still making it hard to breathe and my wrist was throbbing in pain. I was pretty sure that he had broken it. "What's wrong? Harry, tell me what happened to you. Why did you leave us?"

"I couldn't face you, Hermione. I failed and I couldn't face you!" He sobbed again.

My face was turned to the window where I could see our reflection from the soft light of the rising moon. I watched as Harry reached out for my wand that had fallen to the bed next to me and stuff it into his back pocket. He looked disheveled and many years older. His hair had grown out several inches and he had dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept for weeks. The left lens of his glasses was cracked, and they were slightly sitting askew on his face. I was so startled by his appearance that I didn't notice he was staring back at me through the reflection. He started to cry softly.

"Gods, Harry. What's happened to you?" I whispered in the darkness.

"I couldn't stop him… he lives." Harry shuddered on top of me. "I couldn't kill him! I tried. I thought I did, but I was wrong. The battle went amiss, Hermione."

What was he talking about? He killed Voldemort. The Avada Kedavra that he cast rebounded and struck him in the chest. I was there and witnessed it myself. "Harry, no, he's dead. I was there. I saw him fall!" I tried once again to struggle against his weight. All he did was press harder. "Harry, you're hurting me!"

"He never left. When the curse backfired on him, a piece of his soul must have broken off and landed on me. I can't tell where I end and he begins. It's like we're the same person. It's fucking terrifying," he breathlessly stumbled upon his own words.

"What? Like you mean another horcrux? I don't think it works that way, Harry. Now please, get off of me!" I yelled.

I could feel his left hand start to roam over my form. I looked back into the reflection on the window and he looked like he was concentrating on something. His hand reached the hem of my shirt. He slowly lifted the material and started to run circles into my skin. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against my ear.

"Do you remember those lonely, quiet nights in the tent? It was so cold. Ron was gone. It was just us. I needed you then; we needed each other, like I need you now," he whispered.

Why was he changing the subject all of a sudden? "Harry that was a…"

"Don't say it, Hermione!" he flipped me over all of a sudden and shook me against the bed. "Don't you dare! I couldn't bear it if you told me that you regretted me!" he sobbed.

In this position I was finally able to see him clearly. I could feel his magic swirling in the air. It felt like electricity. I could even taste it on my tongue. He looked at me in despair. I could hear glass cracking behind me. I strained my neck to see where the sound was coming from. The window was cracking down the middle. He bent down and pressed his lips to my throat. I could feel his tears run down the length of my neck. Panic struck. I pushed him off me with all of my strength.

"No, Harry!" I screamed.

He fell to the ground in a loud thud. I took my chance and launched myself off the bed and ran towards the door, but it slammed shut in front of me before I could make my escape. I tried the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge - it wouldn't even turn. Suddenly, I could feel him behind me. He grabbed my hair and dragged me back to the bed. I tried to fight back. I kicked and screamed, but he was just too strong and my scalp was starting to sting. I landed on the bed and tried to rub my head to help dull the pain. Harry looked at me and slowly approached the bed.

"You're not leaving us, Hermione. I'm tired of the leaving. First Ron leaves, then I leave and now you want to leave, too. I thought we were friends." He climbed back on top of me gently, and pulled my hands from my hair. He gathered them together in his left hand and held them above my head.

I was beyond scared. This wasn't Harry, or maybe this was. He did always have issues with his temper. "We are friends, Harry, best friends," I said, my voice shaking.

"Good," he said. "I couldn't stand it if you left me now that you're here again. I've dreamt of you, Hermione. The feel of your skin against mine, the taste of your lips, the way you would cry out my name. The memory of those nights still haunts me." He trailed his right hand over my form again.

I could feel his magic surround me and I slowly started to get drowsy. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling. It soothed the pain in my scalp and wrist, and I grew increasingly calm, almost numb. He lifted my shirt and started to rub deep circles into my skin once again. He then used his knees to slowly spread apart my legs. I could feel the length of his body against my own form. My eyes started to flutter close from his soft touch. He rocked his hips into mine in a slow rhythm, and his breathing picked up slightly. His erection was noticeable through the thick fabric of his jeans. I groaned at the feeling of him pressing it against my core, even through the light cotton trousers I was wearing. The sensations made me forget what I was doing here, let alone why. Wasn't I supposed to come with someone else? Was there someone else I was supposed to be with? I couldn't seem to focus on one single thought. I could only feel.

"Hermione, open your eyes. I want you to watch. Don't close them." He bent down and started to place open mouth kisses against my neck. It was hard to open them under the blanket of drowsiness I was under, but I managed. I started to feel that familiar throb, that hungriness, in the pit of my core. I panted, wanting him to hurry and get to it already.

"Harry, please," I whispered.

He lifted his head. "Please, what?"

I looked into his eyes. The color, that emerald color that I used to stare into when he would take me, so much so that I would lose myself; it was off. The shade was all wrong, too murky. Maybe it was his glasses; they were a bit cracked and dirty. I soon felt his hand cup my breast and knead it gently. I sighed and forgot what I was trying to figure out.

"Please what, Mione?" he asked again.

The use of my nickname threw me for a moment. I struggled against his grip, hoping to free my hands. "Harry, faster… please," I begged.

"You want me to go faster? Do you want me to take you?" he asked in a raspy voice.

All I could do was nod my head. Then something changed. That lost and vulnerable look vanished from his murky colored eyes and was replaced with a wild, searing gaze. It scared me a little. He released my hands and proceeded to rip my t-shirt over my head. When I was free from the fabric my hands immediately grasped the front of his shirt and started to unbutton them in a hurry. I felt as though I was burning from the inside out, as if a sudden fever had set in. My fingers shook as I pushed each button through its respective hole, my wrist ached. Seeing the problems I was having, Harry pushed my hands aside and tore his shirt off.

He settled back into my hips and started to run his lips across my chest. When he came to my collarbone, he slowly ran his tongue along its length, but then he paused. He lifted his head to look down at me.

"We have too many clothes on," he simply said. In a rather loud pop, our clothes vanished, and I now laid below him completely nude, like an offering. I should have had the decency to at least blush, but then I noticed that his hands were empty. Where's his wand?

"How did you… where's your wand, Harry?" I asked, astonished at his display of wandless magic.

He smirked at me and said, "We don't need one anymore."

What did he mean by that? Surely he can't mean that he doesn't need one at all. If that's the case, then why did the Aurors get a hit on his wand, and what's with the 'we'? I wanted to question him further, but he dipped his head and started to suckle my left nipple. I moaned deeply at the feel of his mouth on my skin. He released my nipple and panted softly. The sensation of his hot breath on my breast sent a shiver down my body and straight down to the part that I yearned for him to touch the most. I lifted my hands and threaded my fingers into his dark hair and pulled gently.

He immediately grabbed my wrists and pinned them once again over my head roughly. I cried out in pain. My wrist throbbed in his hands. His face was so close to mine. I could smell his fresh breath fan over me. At least he kept up on his hygiene while he was missing.

"Don't do that!" he said sharply. He suddenly looked angry. "I'll have to punish you for that. I'm going to have to bind you now," he said, sounding displeased.

Something was wrapping themselves around my wrists. When I craned my neck to look above me, I saw that the sheets that had bunched up to the top of the bed during our tussle were winding themselves around my wrists and were securing themselves to the bedposts. Not enough to cut off the circulation, but enough to keep my arms still. I pulled on the sheets to test how securely they were wrapped. Gasping again at the sharp pain, I stopped struggling against my bonds. It was still beyond my comprehension on how he was doing all of this without the aid of a wand, not to mention a tad overwhelming.

Harry chuckled lightly. "There, now you're bound," he said. "I don't like being touched without permission. You take too many fucking liberties, Hermione. You always have. Now it's my turn to take them with you."

If I hadn't been so heated at that moment, I would have contested. I typically don't like being so submissive. A small part of me was frightened at what he would do next, but mostly I was excited. I had never seen Harry like this, so dominant and demanding. It was extremely erotic. I could feel the wetness spreading across my thighs at the sound of his cruel words. I moaned at the sensation.

"You like this, Hermione? We've just started. I'm going to fuck you so thoroughly that you'll forget everything. You'll forget Ron. You belong to us now. The only thing that is going to go through that overactive brain of yours is my name, while you scream it out for me. Understood?" He brought his hands to the inside of my thighs and stroked gently.

I felt a tinge of sadness, remorse, and shame when he said Ron's name. Ron! He might come here at anytime looking for me once he's seen that I haven't returned. He can't see us like this. It would tear him apart. I never told him about Harry and I. He would never forgive us if he found out. So I kept our affair secret, my dirty little secret.

He took his fingernails and scratched the inside of my thighs harshly when I didn't answer him. I hissed in pain.

"What did I just say? You're not to think of him! Let him walk in on us! Then he'll have the privilege of watching me claim you! Do you know what he saw when he destroyed the locket? Do you want to know what Lord Voldemort showed him?" he asked me, his voice laced with rage.

My eyes widened in fear. Can he now read my mind? Is he usingLegilimency on me? I knew that Ron had destroyed the locket, but he never mentioned that he saw something. I remembered that when I destroyed the cup in the Chamber of Secrets that a young Tom Riddle had appeared and tried to persuade me from doing so. It was a futile attempt, pathetic even for him. I destroyed the cup without any hesitation.

"What?" I asked breathlessly.

"He saw us, Hermione, in an embrace. Riddle was always good at messing with your head, even if he had to use the truth to do so." He smirked slyly. "It drove Ron mad."

The tears started to fall then, and I sobbed softly. He kissed them away gently, and resumed his ministrations on my thighs. Every swipe of his fingertips over the scratches on my thighs made my breath hitch. I could feel him rock his erection into my hip, and slowly that fire started to build up again within me. I bucked my hips hoping that he would enter me, but he still teased me with his gentle touches. His lips moved from my cheeks and hovered over my own mouth. I couldn't take the gentle teasing anymore. I raised my head and pressed my mouth to his in a hungry kiss. He responded fully as he slipped his tongue in my mouth and we fought for dominance. Needless to say, he won. We broke apart panting. That blazing fire was back in his eyes as his hands grew rougher while roaming my legs. He was kneading my flesh so roughly I was afraid I would bruise under his touch. It only heated me further.

"Oh, Gods, Harry! Please, just…" I moaned out.

"You want my cock, Hermione?" he asked huskily.

"Please, it hurts," I begged.

"Oh, what? This?" he asked as his hands drifted to my core, and he finally touched me where I needed him most. I cried out his name as he stroked my clit lightly with his fingertips.

"You're so swollen, Hermione. Fuck," he hissed out, "and so damn wet for me too. Does this feel good, baby?" he asked as he rubbed against me harder and faster.

"Ughnnh," was all I could manage to get out. Gods, I am so close. Please don't stop!

"Not yet!" he grounded out.

I nearly sobbed again when he took his fingers away from my core. He was tormenting me. It was sweet fucking torture. I needed him in me. He pressed his mouth against mine again, and I bit down hard on his bottom lip. I could taste that distinct flavor of salt and rust from his blood on my tongue. He moaned deeply and brushed the tip of his cock against my clit. I thought my heart would explode from the sensation.

"You bit me!" he gasped after he released my mouth. He licked his blood stained lips and closed his eyes as if he were savoring the taste. "You feisty, little minx! Are you ready for me?"

I nodded my head vehemently.

"Say it out loud. I want to fucking…hear…it!" he growled loudly.

"Harry! Fuck, I need you! Just take me please! I want to feel you inside me," I sobbed, my need nearly choking me.

"Good girl," he whispered as he plunged his cock inside of me roughly. "Merlin! Fuck, Mione, you're so damn tight. It's been too long without you," he breathed out.

I could barely hear his words as he thrust in and out of me. His movements were sporadic and violent. It felt so good to have him in me again. I had realized at that moment that I wasn't whole without him. He completes me. Without him, I am empty!

"That's right, baby, you're ours. We'll never be apart again," he cooed into my ear.

He kept thrusting in and out. The slick and wet sounds of our bodies sliding against one another made the fast pace he kept even more erotic. I had to bite down on my raised arm to keep from screaming out in ecstasy. Oh, please so close. Just as that thought flowed through my head, he pulled out.

"No! Please!" I yelled in frustration.

He lifted himself off me and kneeled on the bed while he slowly stroked his erection. I couldn't take my eyes off of him while he pleasured himself. I moaned softly at the sight.

"Get on your hands and knees!" he demanded.

I tried to lift myself up to turn myself around, but the sheets that secured me made that difficult. Harry leaned forward and grasped my shoulder tightly as he helped me into position. I couldn't bear any weight on my wrist, so I leaned on my forearms for support. He spread my legs open. I felt very exposed in this position. We had never done this before. It was all very exciting. Slowly his hands stroked the back of my legs and ass. I panted softly at his touch.

"Beautiful… I like you this way, spread out before me," he mumbled.

I felt the cold air hit my skin before the sting of his slap on my ass. I yelped and he swung again, a bit harder this time, but I was anticipating the sensation and a deep moan left me. I couldn't believe it possible, but with each strike to my flesh, I grew wetter, my arousal increasing. I rocked my hips and ass out to greet his hand. I desperately wanted to free my hands so that I could touch myself, anything to get that release. After a few more slaps, he stilled his hand on me. He slowly rubbed the stinging and undoubtedly red skin. I could feel the bed shift beneath me as he positioned himself behind me. He spread my ass open and I could feel the tip of his erection press against my anus. I was so past any logical thought that he could have taken me there, and I would have been undeniably delighted.

He moved lower and settled himself at my entrance, however. He leaned over and whispered, "Next time, darling."

With that small sentence, he entered me roughly and started to thrust with total abandon. His pace never slowed. I couldn't keep up. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, on my breasts, my back, rubbing my clit, harshly pulling my hair. It was sensory overload as I cried out his name. He softly grunted with each thrust. I could feel that this was it. That any moment now I would fall over the edge and nothing would stop it this time. I wanted it, I yearned for it. Fuck me, I needed it.

As he pulled my head back with my hair tightly grasped between his fingers, he growled out in my ear, "Cum for us, Granger! I want to feel you cum now!"

I whimpered at his demand and concentrated on his movements. Soon I could feel the pressure build until finally I exploded. I closed my eyes at the sensation of my orgasm pulsing through my entire body. Stars and flashes of light burst behind my tightly shut eyelids.

"Harry!" I screamed out.

He never slowed. He kept thrusting at the same fervent pace until he reached his peak and roared out my name as he pushed himself deeply into me, spilling his release. I craned my neck to look at him kneeling behind me. He had his head thrown back, glasses missing, eyes scrunched up tightly, and mouth open as he loudly moaned in pleasure. It was a sight to behold. He slowed his movements and rocked gently in and out of me as he came down from his orgasm. I couldn't turn away from the calm and sated look on his face. That itself, just the vision of him in all his fulfilled glory, was astonishing to me. He is amazing.

He pushed my body flat onto the bed and gently laid on top of me never dislodging himself in the process. He was careful to keep his full weight off of me and for that I was thankful. My head was spinning from the post-orgasmic bliss. I felt him softly pepper small kisses to my shoulders and back. I sighed in contentment. I looked into the cracked window to see his reflection. He caught me staring and gazed back. His eyes, I noticed in shock, were no longer that murky color of green, but a blazing scarlet.

"What now?" I asked in sheer terror, my voice getting caught in my throat as panic set in.

"We go back and we finish what I started, with you by my side as well. The Ministry will finally be mine," he softly spoke.

"Who is 'we'? You keep saying that," I questioned, my voice quaking in fear. The heat of our tryst left my body swiftly and was replaced with a coldness that even his feverish body laying on top of mine couldn't abate.

"You… me… and Harry, of course."