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Chapter 4, The Final Ritual

“We’re going to do WHAT!”

Hermione reflected that it was somewhat ironic that Harry’s response had been almost exactly the same as Ron’s had been back when this whole ritual thing had started.  That had been long ago, during the previous summer, before Bill and Fleur’s wedding.  Before Hogwarts had opened for the school year without the two students who were supposed to be Head Boy and Head Girl, as well as the seventh year Gryffindor boys’ prefect.  Before they had searched across the British Isles for the Horcruxes.  Before she and Harry had become a couple, moved into the same room together, slept together every night, and become intimately familiar with every square inch of each other’s bodies.  They had grown closer than most married couples and really, had become virtually husband and wife themselves in many respects.  But not in two important areas.  They weren’t married.  And they’d never had sex.

Not that they didn’t want to.  It was just that the ritual they had used to destroy the Horcruxes had required both of them to be virgins.  It was probably more accurate to say that they hadn’t had sexual intercourse, since they had certainly engaged in other sexual practices that had been extremely satisfying.  In a few months the current American president would come to suffer a lot of grief over the precise definition of ‘having sex’.  Hermione would have agreed that the president hadn’t ‘had sexual relations with that woman’ just as she hadn’t had sex with Harry.  She and Harry had engaged in the practice that he would be revealed to have engaged in with that intern though.  And while the president apparently hadn’t returned the favor with his partner, Harry certainly had with Hermione.  And he was very good at it, as far as she was concerned.  But – they hadn’t ‘had sex’.  At least not yet.  Which brought them to the subject at hand.

They had finished destroying all of the Horcruxes.  With each one the procedure had been the same.  They returned to Grimmauld Place, Ron disappeared into the kitchen, they took the Horcrux to the drawing room, removed their clothing, coated the object with the appropriate body fluids, and performed the ritual to destroy it.

The last one, Nagini, had been the trickiest.  It had been a bit of a challenge to focus on getting each other off while a gigantic snake had been coiled up on the table right in front of them.  Sure, it was stunned and petrified, and tied up to boot, but it still looked like it might take a bite out of one of them at any second.  Harry had been particularly squeamish about that – quite understandably, Hermione thought.  She had no more desire for him to lose that particular appendage than he did.  It had been the only Horcrux they destroyed for which they hadn’t taken the time to pleasure each other a bit before speaking the incantation.  They just rushed through the words of the ritual, slimed the snake, hit it with the beam of light, listened to the muffled scream that signified that it was destroyed, and got the heck out of there.

“We’re going to do WHAT!” 

Harry knew that Hermione had been fervently studying the spell books with a single-minded obsession these past several weeks, and knew by the look in her eye that she had found a spell she thought they might be able to use against Voldemort.  He was aware, obviously, of the existence of sex-based rituals now, but hadn’t considered such a thing remotely possible in this case.  So he was more than a bit taken aback by her revelation.

“I think I’ve found a ritual that we can use to defeat Voldemort,” Hermione repeated slowly.

“And …” Harry was certain that she was deliberately stretching this out to get him back for his original reaction.

“And it involves us having sex,” she finished with a ‘and what part of that don’t you understand?’ tone of voice.

“OK, that’s what I thought you said,” Harry acknowledged.  “But Hermione, can’t you see how ridiculous that sounds?  I mean, I know Dumbledore said love was the ‘power he knows not’, but I don’t really think that’s what he meant.”

Hermione shrugged.  “It could be, though.”

Harry still wasn’t convinced.  “So you really think we can destroy Voldemort by shagging?  Have you every heard anything more absurd?  If you read that in a story you’d never believe it.”

“Well, Harry, don’t you think you could say that about a lot of things that have happened to us during these past six years?” Hermione pointed out.

“Well, yes, but …” Harry searched for some example to get her to see his point.  “Look, what if it had turned out that Luke and Leia had defeated Darth Vader by shagging each other?”

“Ewww, Harry that’s disgusting!”

“My point exactly.”

“No, it’s disgusting because they were brother and sister!”

“Oh.”  Harry thought for a moment and frowned.  “Well, that part was just stupid.  I mean, they didn’t look anything like each other at all.  And they were supposed to be twins?  Come on, give me a break!”

“What do you mean?”

“I think the writer just put that in the third movie to justify why Luke and Leia didn’t get together.  I mean, they were perfect together.  You can’t tell me you didn’t want them to be together after part one.”

“Part four,” Hermione corrected reflexively.

“What?”

“The first movie was really part four.  The third movie was part six.”

“How the heck can that be?”

“Harry, there are going to be three more movies, starting next year.  Don’t you pay any attention to that sort of thing?”

“Hermione, I never even saw a movie until we visited your parents last summer.”

“OK, never mind.  Why does it matter so much to you?”

Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to answer that, and muttered, “Forget it.”

“Harry …”  Harry recognized her ‘I’m not going to drop this until you tell me what’s bothering you’ tone of voice.

“I sort of identified with him,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Luke.  I identified with him.”

“All right, that makes sense,” Hermione mused, thinking aloud.  “He’s a hero, you’re a hero.  You were both orphans, raised by your aunt and uncle.  You were both taken away and introduced to a whole new world, and told you had powers you didn’t even know existed.  You both watched your mentor die before your eyes.  I guess that would make Darth Vader Snape and the Emperor Voldemort …”

“Hermione please stop before you get to the ‘I am your father’ part,” Harry interrupted desperately. 

“Oh, right.  I guess that would be rather disturbing,” Hermione agreed quickly.  “But anyway, why does it bother you if they’re brother and sister?”

Harry shuffled his feet nervously.  “Well, if I’m like Luke, you’re like Leia.  You know, always knowing what to do, bailing the hero out when he gets in trouble.”

“And Ron is Han Solo,” Hermione finished for him, catching on now.

“So it really bothered me that Luke didn’t end up with Leia,” Harry admitted.  Hermione stepped up to him and wrapped him up in a hug.

“Oh Harry.”  Finally she stepped back and regarded him with a soft look of sheer affection.  “I love you.”

Harry grinned.  “I know.”

Hermione’s face fell for an instant, clearly expecting a different response than that.  Then she caught on and hit him on the shoulder.  “You prat!”

Harry pulled her into another hug, glad that she hadn’t been bothered by his little joke.  But he also knew that he should make the correct response.

“I love you too, Hermione.”

Her eyes twinkled with amusement.  “I know.”

After a long, passionate kiss they finally got back to the original subject.  “OK, let’s say you’re right and we can do a ritual where we have sex to destroy Voldemort,” Harry began.  “How exactly would that work?”

“As far as the ritual itself is concerned, there’s not much to it,” Hermione responded, then continued, trying to keep it as clinical as possible.  “We have sex and I say the incantation at exactly the moment you orgasm.  More specifically, when you ejaculate inside me.”

“What if you orgasm too?” Harry countered. “You might mess up the incantation.”  He had always been impressed by Hermione’s ability to concentrate and ignore distractions, but this seemed a bit much.

“Harry, I don’t think that will be a problem,” she replied dismissively.  “It’s pretty rare for a girl to orgasm when she loses her virginity.”  His puzzled look indicated that he still didn’t understand.  “It hurts quite a bit the first time,” she explained.  She decided that they would need to discuss this later.  “Anyway, we don’t need to worry about that now.”

“OK, but I still don’t see how that can affect Voldemort,” he went on.

“Well, the key is the connection you have with him through your scar,” Hermione explained.  “The tricky part is that it would have to be done while the connection was open.  You know, like when he’s trying to send you a vision or mentally attack you or something.”

“Well how are we going to arrange that?”  Harry challenged.  “Are we just going to sit around for weeks waiting for him to try to break into my mind and then jump each other?”

“Well, obviously I don’t have all the details worked out yet,” Hermione shot back, wondering why he was objecting so much.  It seemed to her that he wasn’t very eager to do this.  “You know, if you have a problem with the idea of having sex with me …”

Harry immediately saw the hurt in her eyes and realized what was bothering her.  “Hermione,” he said softening his voice and wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her close.  “I very much want to make love to you.  I think that would be obvious by now.”

Hermione wiped an eye with the back of her hand, trying to keep her emotions in check, while leaning her head against his chest.  “I know.”  She gave a small chuckle as she felt the part of him under discussion stiffen against her.  “But I thought you’d be more receptive to this idea.”

Harry hesitated, and Hermione immediately noticed it.  “What is it?” she asked.

“It’s just that you said you wanted to wait for marriage before having sex,” he pointed out after a nervous moment.

Hermione smiled and hugged him again, relieved that this was the only thing giving him pause.  “Well, we all have to make some sacrifices,” she admitted.  “Not that it wouldn’t be an enjoyable sacrifice.”

Harry pulled back and looked her directly in the eye.  “You know, there is a way around that.”

Hermione frowned slightly as she tried to decipher his comment, then her eyes went wide.  “Harry!” she gasped.  Struggling to bring the surge of emotion that had just flooded through her under control she continued in a somewhat shaky voice.  “You don’t have to do that.  Defeating Voldemort is the important thing.  We can just …”

“No,” he interrupted firmly.  “Marrying you is what I want to do more than anything else in the world.  Defeating Voldemort would just be a bonus.”

“Oh Harry!”  Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck in a fierce hug as tears began streaming down her cheeks.  While she had hoped they might eventually come to this point she had never dreamed it would be so soon.

After a long, loving embrace Harry pulled away.  “I think I ought to do this right,” he resolved.  Picking up his wand he pointed it towards his bedroom.  “Accio engagement ring!”

Hermione’s eyes widened again as a small jewelry box came flying into the room and was snatched out of the air by the natural born seeker, and her amazement continued as she turned to see Harry down on one knee before her.  “What … how … when …?”  Harry’s only response was a grin before he opened the box and offered her the ring.

“Hermione, will you marry me?”

By now Hermione had completely lost the power of speech and could only nod her head as she covered her mouth with her hands and looked at the most beautiful diamond ring she had ever seen.  Finally she managed another single word query.  “Where …?”

“I saw it in the Potter vault the last time I was in Gringotts and picked it up just in case I managed to get up my nerve to ask you,” he revealed.  “Your suggestion just now seemed to be a perfect opportunity, so I did.”  He grinned again, very proud of himself, both for getting up his courage and for managing to take her completely by surprise.  Hermione only nodded, still in a daze, so he continued.

“Now, I think word of this can help us out with the ritual, too.”  This got her attention, and she raised her head and frowned.

“I don’t understand.  Surely you want to keep this secret, don’t you?” she objected.  “If the press gets a hold of this they’ll be all over us.”

“True,” Harry agreed.  “But if we let it leak out without making it look like we’re letting it leak out … look, we need to do the ritual while he’s attacking my mind, right?  Well, when would he be almost certain to attack my mind?

“In order to ruin a happy occasion for you,” Hermione answered, catching on.  “Oh Harry, that’s perfect.”  She wrapped him up in yet another hug.  When she pulled away, there was a familiar gleam in her eye.  “Oh, there’s so much to plan.  I better get my notebook and start writing things down.”  Harry just sat back and smiled, watching his future wife do the thing she was best at.

-ooOoo-

Harry had once heard a muggle comedian on the telly do a routine where the audience listened in to one side of a telephone call.  The call that Hermione placed to her mother to let her know what they were planning had that beat hands down.

“Hello, Mum?  Hi this is Hermione …”

“I know, I’m excited to talk to you too …”

“Yes, I know it’s been too long since you heard from me.  Yes, I suppose it was last summer.”  She looked over at Harry and rolled her eyes.  “I’ll try to do better …”

“So, how have you been?  No Death Eater attacks or anything?”

“No Mum, sorry, you’re right that wasn’t very funny …”

“Well, actually I do have some good news.  Do you know that project I told you I was working on?”

“No, not that one!  I’m not interested in him at all anymore …”  She turned bright red and determinedly avoided looking at Harry.

“Yes, you did.  Go ahead and say I told you so …”  This was punctuated by a sigh.

“Thanks Mum, I appreciate your concern.  What I really meant was the other project.  You know, the one where we’re fighting against an evil magician?”

“No, actually it hasn’t been as dangerous as we thought it would be.  Some parts have really been quite pleasant … Er, never mind, I’ll explain that later.  Anyway, remember that there was a preliminary phase where we had to accomplish four things?  Well, we’ve finished that phase!  Isn’t that great?”

“Well, yes, there’s still the final part where we have to destroy the dark lord …”

“Yes, that’s what he calls himself.  Anyway about that … “

“Look, the reason I called was that I’m getting married and …  Mum?  Mum, are you still there?”

“Hi Dad.  Is Mum all right? … She didn’t hurt her head or anything?”

“Good … No, I guess I gave her a bit of a shock … Yeah, I told her I was getting married and …”

“Dad?  Dad are you still there?”

Hermione paused and shot Harry a look of chagrin, and waited impatiently for her parents to get back on the phone.

“Oh good, Mum, you’re back.  Sorry for the shock …”

“Yes, I know it’s rather sudden … No, it’s not him!”

“No, I’m not pregnant either!  Honestly Mum …”

“Well, yes, I suppose it was a reasonable assumption …”

“Well, actually it’s Harry.  Harry Potter …”  She couldn’t help the smile that broke out on her face when she said this.

“Yes, the boy I’ve been writing to you about for six years …”

“What do you mean it’s about time?”

“Mum, that’s not funny!”

“You mean you’re serious?  Since first year?  You and Dad had a bet?”

“So which one of you bet on Harry?”

“I don’t get it, how could both of you bet on Harry?”

“Oh.  Well, technically you might say that Dad won then.  I mean if you bet that it would be while we were still in school and he bet that it would be after we left school …”

“Well, I guess maybe I never mentioned that we didn’t go back to school this fall …”

Harry decided that it would be a good time to take his leave, and moved quietly out of the drawing room and down to the kitchen.

-ooOoo-

In the end, Hermione and her mother compromised on the wedding.  She and Harry would have a wizarding wedding now, but would have a full-scale muggle wedding the following summer at the church that Hermione and her parents attended.  Since it was the Christmas holidays a group of their friends from Hogwarts were able to attend, along with the obligatory Ministry representative.  Hermione promised her mother that she wouldn’t get pregnant before the ‘real’ wedding, but she knew that she wouldn’t be able to guarantee that.  The ritual they planned to use to destroy Voldemort through his connection with Harry’s mind precluded the use of any other spells, including a contraception spell, and she was in the wrong time of her cycle to begin using birth control pills.

That was not among her chief concerns today, though.  After all, they were expecting Voldemort to attack and they were planning a counterattack with the sex-based ritual.  If it succeeded the dark lord would be destroyed and their whole world would change.  She and Harry would be able to relax and live their lives without that awful specter looming over them.  The worry over an unwanted pregnancy would be minor by comparison.  If it didn’t succeed they would have an enraged dark lord on their hands, which she considered to be a far more pressing thing to worry about.

They were counting on the Ministry representative to be the subtle leak their plans required.  The wedding of Harry Potter would be the news story of the year, if not the decade, and the temptation to leak it to the press would be overwhelming, since the payoff would probably be worth more than a Ministry employee’s annual salary.  And they were also confident that Voldemort had plenty of information sources in the wizarding press.

-ooOoo-

“Are you ready?”  Hermione was glad that the wizarding world didn’t have that stupid ‘groom can’t see the bride on the day of the wedding’ custom as she managed to get Harry alone for a moment before the ceremony began.  They had rented a room for the ceremony at the Ministry building, both for the convenience of the Ministry rep but also because they didn’t want to expose any of their friends’ homes to a possible attack, and she and Harry were waiting in an antechamber.

“I think so,” Harry responded, checking that his robes were straight and his hair looked … well, as good as it ever looked, and that he had the rings.

“No,” Hermione purred in a lower voice as her hand reached down to grasp him.  “I mean, are you ready?”  She felt a twitch in her hand that indicated that this part of him was firming up.

Harry fought to stifle a moan before he could respond.  “Hermione!  Surely you don’t expect me to stay hard all through the ceremony?”

“Why not,” she continued in that same seductive voice.  “I remember a certain time when you stayed hard for at least a half hour.”

Harry recalled that first nude encounter with her very well.  “Well, it helped that the sexiest witch in the world was standing naked right next to me the whole time,” he responded with a smile at the fond memory.  Hermione giggled and gave him a quick kiss for the compliment.

“Would it help if I told you I was naked under my robes?”  Harry shot her a puzzled look and she leaned closer to his ear and whispered.  “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Harry’s eyes shot wide open and he stared at her.  She was wearing a nicely fitted white gown, with a fairly low neckline and he could see that it was indeed possible that she wasn’t wearing a bra.  Then she tugged on her robes to reveal that they were slit up the side, ostensibly for a witch to conceal her wand in a leg holster.  She took his hand and put it on her thigh, then nudged him to slide it upward.  When he reached the area between her legs he got another shock as he encountered only smooth skin.

“I decided to shave for the occasion,” she explained with a saucy wink.  “Do you like it?”  With a dazed expression on his face he only managed a nod.  Her other hand had still not released him, and she noted that he was now extremely hard.  “So, now do you think you can stay ready all the way through the ceremony?”

“Merlin, with thoughts like this in my mind I should say so!” he managed to gasp.  “But I sure hope this ceremony doesn’t require anything more than one word responses.”  He squirmed a bit to adjust himself after she released him.  “And it’s a good thing these robes are so loose.”

“I don’t think that’s a coincidence,” Hermione replied, still in that maddeningly sultry tone.  “I doubt that you’re the only wizard who has those thoughts during this ceremony.  Haven’t you noticed how the bride’s robes are designed to encourage that thinking?”  She leaned forward and her neckline moved away from her torso to reveal that she was indeed not wearing anything beneath (and that her nipples were also quite hard).  Harry groaned loudly.

“Now, one more adjustment, I think,” Hermione declared, and to Harry’s amazement she pulled his robes up, pointed her wand at him, and vanished his underwear as well.  Harry was just able to stifle a ‘Yipe!’ while Hermione replaced her wand in its holder on her own bare thigh when a door opened and the Ministry official beckoned them out to begin the ceremony.

The pair had practiced beforehand exactly what they were going to do when Voldemort attacked, and were able to apparate from the wedding site to the master bedroom at Grimmauld Place, remove their clothing, and get into shagging position in ten seconds.  With the ‘wardrobe enhancements’ Hermione had just made she was certain they could cut that time in half.  They moved through ceremony quickly, as Hermione had thoughtfully provided a slip of parchment with all of Harry’s responses written out.  Throughout ceremony Hermione frequently shifted position, wriggling her hips slightly and nudging up against him.  To anyone watching it looked innocent, as though she were a bit nervous, but for Harry it kept his attention focused on the promised land.

Finally they got to the end.  “Hermione Granger, I pledge to you my heart, my soul, my magic, and my love,” Harry recited while raising his wand.  Hermione repeated the vow and raised her own wand, touching its tip to Harry’s.  A golden light flared from the joined wand tips and spread to their hands, where their rings likewise glowed. 

Harry felt a sensation much like those he had felt during the ritual shoot up his arm and down to his groin.  If he hadn’t already been hard, this would definitely have done the trick.  Hermione experienced the same thing and she couldn’t help squirming a bit.  This sensation would have certainly made her knickers damp, she decided, if she had been wearing any.

The Ministry official nodded at them and disappeared.  It should only be a matter of time now, they thought.  The newlyweds began greeting their friends who had attended, many of whom were giving Hermione knowing looks and smirking at Harry.  The young couple began to wonder if they were expected to consummate the marriage right there on the spot.  Hermione recalled that Fleur had immediately dragged Bill up to a bedroom as soon as their ceremony had concluded last summer, but had assumed that it was some Veela thing.  Just as she was about to decide to grab Harry and follow the French witch’s example, it happened.

“Ahhh!”  Harry threw his hand to his forehead and staggered against Hermione, who tightened the arm that had been wrapped around his waist since the end of the ceremony.  She quickly turned to the group she had been talking to.

“Sorry, we think we’ll just be going now.  Bye!” she announced in a rapid-fire voice.  Then she side-along disapparated Harry and they were gone.

They reappeared on the bed and with one tug on her robes Hermione was naked, then she reached down and stripped Harry similarly.  This was it.  Harry still had his eyes closed so she straddled him on the bed and reached down and began to stroke him with one hand to bring him fully erect, while fingering herself with the other.  Since this was her first time, she knew she needed as much lubrication as possible.  After a moment’s thought she took one of Harry’s hands and brought it up between her legs to use his finger instead.

After the initial burst of pain in his scar, Harry fought to drive Voldemort back.  He didn’t want to knock him out of his mind completely, but was aiming at more of a standstill.  When he felt his hand touch the smooth skin of Hermione’s newly shaved pubic area he instinctively began stroking her and inserted one finger between her folds.  Her gasp caused him to open his eyes, and the sight managed to briefly throw Voldemort’s presence to the back of his consciousness.  There was his lover in all her naked glory, leaning back and moaning as his hand and finger worked their magic on her sex.  Between this and her efforts he hardened instantly.

Now that they were both ready, Hermione moved back a little and raised herself up to position Harry’s now throbbing member at her entrance.  Realizing her intention, Harry removed his finger and placed both hands on her hips.  She nodded at him and impaled herself, as he tightened his grip on her and thrust upwards.

Both of them screamed out in pain! 

‘Damn, that hurts!’ Hermione managed to keep this exclamation to herself, but she froze momentarily as the sharp sting of the torn piece of tissue inside her ripped through her insides.  Meanwhile Voldemort had seized this moment to attack again and Harry’s hand flew back up to his scar as he fought against this new wave of agony.  Right now pleasure was the furthest thing from each of their minds.

‘Come on, Hermione,’ she berated herself.  ‘This is nothing compared to what Harry’s going through.  Suck it up and get moving.’  She mentally reproached herself for not having anticipated this and done something to tear her hymen beforehand.  She had read plenty of stories where the virgin’s initial pain subsided if her lover remained motionless for a few seconds, then began to move slowly inside her.  They were all a pack of lies, she decided.  It still hurt like hell.  In most of these fictions the girl went on to orgasm, sometimes twice, even before the guy did. They were probably all written by clueless males, she was certain, or starry-eyed young girls fantasizing about sex.  But she began to move anyway, sliding up and down on Harry’s now somewhat softened manhood, trying to bring it back to fully erect, and also trying not to wince.  While she was doing this she took Harry’s hands and raised them to her breasts to help him with his own struggle.

Initially she succeeded.  Harry had managed to turn back Voldemort’s latest blast, and the feeling of Hermione’s delightful breasts in his hands, and the way her nipples hardened at his touch, combined with the incredible sensation of her warm, tight, wetness enveloping his erection as her motion slid it in and out of her began the familiar tingling sensation inside him.  But now Voldemort switched tactics.  Through their link he was aware of exactly what Harry was doing and whom was doing it with, so he began to send images to Harry of Hermione captured, bound, and bleeding, screaming under a torture curse.

“Hermione, no!”  Hermione immediately knew this wasn’t good.  In addition to the obvious fact that he should have been shouting ‘Hermione, yes!’ at this point, his face was screwed up in horror, not pleasure.  She had no difficulty figuring out what was happening.  She quickened the pace of her bouncing on him and moved his hands down to her hips.

“Harry, open your eyes!”  Harry complied and gasped at the vision of the writhing woman astride him that dissolved and replaced the writhing figure he had been witnessing.  Hermione had reached her hands up to grab her own nipples and was pinching and pulling on them sensuously (knowing from experience that this really turned Harry on).  Her head was thrown back in apparent bliss and she began to moan loudly.  At the same time she tightened her pelvic muscles around Harry’s swollen organ.  For the first and only time in her life Hermione Granger (now Potter) faked an orgasm.

“Oh! … Oh! …  Harry! …  Yes!! … YES!!”

It was easily enough to send Harry over the edge.  Clutching her hips tightly he pulled them down as he plunged himself into her over and over.  It only took a few times before he exploded.

“Hermione!  I love you!  Ahh!  AHH!” Each declaration was accompanied by another thrust as he unloaded himself into her.  As soon as she felt him begin to spasm Hermione ignored the searing pain from the frayed and bloody bits of tissue that were being rubbed raw inside her and grabbed her wand from where it lay beside her, pointing it directly at Harry’s scar as she shouted the incantation.

A dazzlingly bright golden light streaked out and hit him right between the eyes.  For Harry, it sent an electric surge of pleasure all through his body and caused him to try to bury himself even deeper into Hermione.  But for Voldemort it had quite the opposite effect.  In a dimly lit room in an unplottable house in a hidden corner of the British Isles, the dark lord’s head literally exploded.  (It would be some time later before a nervous rat-faced man discovered the body, became violently ill, and scurried away in terror.  It would be a few days later before Ministry Aurors, following an anonymous tip, raided the house and confirmed that the dark lord was, indeed, gone for good.)

Inside Harry’s mind it was as though someone had suddenly shut an alarm off, and he knew instantly what it signified.  Reaching up to grab Hermione he pulled her down onto himself in an overwhelming embrace while shouting, “Hermione!  We did it! We did it!”

For her part, Hermione was finally able to relax and stop rocking her hips, keeping Harry inside her but motionless so as to allow the sharp burning feeling to begin to subside into aching soreness.  At the same time she felt Harry’s euphoria and knew that they had succeeded.  She wrapped her arms around him in turn and buried her head into his shoulder.

“Is it true?” she sobbed, tears streaming down her face from a mixture of relief, elation, and the no longer suppressed pain.  “Is it really over?”

“It’s really over,” he assured her as he hugged her to himself again.  “We did it.  You were incredible.”

“You were incredible, Harry,” she corrected.  “The way you were able to keep him out and keep your mind on … well, on me.”

“That was only because you looked so …” Harry paused and remembered something.  “So, did you come?”

Hermione only fleetingly considered lying about it.  She knew she didn’t need to worry about his ego, though.  “No, I was only pretending.  I thought it would help by getting you more excited.”

“Oh,” Harry considered this for a moment. “Well, you were sure right about that.  God, you looked hot.  Great idea.  Brilliant actually.  I knew there was a reason I married you.” He smiled down at her and she lifted her head and stuck her tongue out at him.  “Well, that and because you’re beautiful, sexy, brave, loyal, caring …”

“Oh stop!”  Hermione laughed.  “I get the point Harry.”

“I love you Hermione,” he replied softly.

“Oh, I love you too, Harry,” she answered.  And that, really, was the entire point.

-ooOoo-

Hermione had read that men often fell asleep after sex, and so she wasn’t surprised when Harry dozed off as they lay there in each other’s arms.  He had a right to be exhausted after battling Voldemort in his mind on top of everything else.  She had lain awake a bit longer simply pondering what they had just accomplished until she also nodded off.

She awoke some time later to see him returning to the bed.

“I just sent Hedwig to Scrimgeour,” he reported with a satisfied grin.  “I wrote, ‘Merry Christmas.  I just defeated Voldemort.  Now maybe you can take care of the rest of the Death Eaters.  So leave me alone and don’t bother me any more.’”  He flopped down onto the bed beside her and began to run his fingers along her back, over her bum, down her leg, and back again.

“Harry, you can’t do that,” Hermione admonished, despite shivering at the lovely sensation.  “Don’t you think you have a responsibility to ….”

“No, Hermione, I don’t,” Harry interrupted firmly, sitting up and pulling her into a sitting position beside him.  “I’ve been controlled by other people and that damned prophecy all my life.  I’ve done what I needed to do and now I can live the rest of my life for myself and my family, and do what I want for a change.”

“Oh,” Hermione responded in a small voice as she processed the implications of the last part of his declaration.

“And what I want to do right now,” he continued, “is make love to my wife.”

Hermione’s heart started beating rapidly, but she hesitated.  “We did that already, Harry,” she demurred.

“No, we had sex,” Harry corrected.  “Now I want to make love to you.”

Hermione was torn.  On the one hand, she had been dreaming of hearing those words from him and making love to him for months.  On the other, she was still very sore and knew she wouldn’t enjoy it.  Honestly, she thought to herself, if a woman’s first time hurts so bloody much why does any woman ever do it a second time?  Why on earth didn’t the human race die out ages ago?  She knew the answer, of course, but she was feeling particularly uncomfortable right now.

Harry noted her hesitation and realized the reason.  “It hurt you a lot, didn’t it?” he asked softly, taking her into his arms.  Hermione nodded sadly against his chest.  His concern for her and what he wanted to do for her made her heart swell so that she thought it would burst.  “But can’t we do it a bit differently so that it doesn’t hurt so much?” he suggested.  “I want you to feel what I did.”

“Oh Harry, I love you so much,” she replied as she raised her head and kissed him softly.  “I’m just not sure it will work today.”  She almost wanted to cry, he looked so dejected.  Then an idea occurred to her.  “There is something I can try, I guess.”

She moved a little away from him and spread her legs wide.  Then she took her wand and inserted it into herself, moving it carefully in to the place where it hurt and cast very small, localized numbing charms.  She definitely didn’t want to numb certain other important areas closer to the surface.  Every so often the side of her wand brushed against a particularly sensitive nub, and she twitched at the pleasant sensation.  As she worked the wand in and out she ‘accidentally’ bumped this nub more and more often, and was soon breathing more quickly.

“There,” she announced as she withdrew the wand and looked up at Harry.  “That should help to …” She stopped at the lustful look of desire on his face and swallowed.  That look all by itself made her insides squirm in ways that the wand hadn’t.

“That … was … so … hot!”  Harry gasped.  “I think that’s the most …” he broke off and shook his head, not sure what was more erotic, watching her appear to be getting herself off with her wand or watching her orgasm.  It was a tough choice.  At any rate, he was hard and throbbing again, a condition which had definitely caught Hermione’s attention.  Now she realized what it looked like she had been doing.

“Oh,” she stammered as she blushed bright red.  “Well, I guess that is something that the younger girls do sometimes.”

“Only the younger ones?” Harry mumbled, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of Hermione (or his other classmates) doing this in their dorm rooms.

“Well, after we learn enough in transfiguration we don’t need to use our wands anymore,” she explained.  “We can transfigure something more lifelike.”  She glanced around the room looking for something to transfigure.  A stapler would have been perfect, but there was no chance of finding one of those in a pureblood house.  Finally she summoned a quill off the desk.  “Here, let me show you.”  Taking a good look at his still solid erection she waved her wand several times over the quill, and it soon became a reasonably accurate replica of Harry’s most private part.  She placed it at her entrance but didn’t push it in.  “See?” she finished with a saucy look.  She now knew very well the effect this was having on him, which he confirmed with a groan.  Then she leaned forward and grabbed the original, stroking it once.  “But I don’t need it now, since I have something better.”  This tease earned an even louder groan.

“So you … you did this too when you were at Hogwarts,” he gasped.  To his surprise this caused her to blush fiercely again.  “What?” he demanded.

“Oh … well, I was just thinking of a particular time …”

Having gained the upper hand in this pleasant teasing contest, Harry wouldn’t let up.  “Come on, spill,” he demanded.

“OK, I guess I can tell you now.  Do you remember at the end of third year after we saved Sirius?  Well, riding behind you on Buckbeak and wrapping my arms around you and pressing up against you got me, er, excited.  Even after everyone left and Madame Pomfrey turned out the lights I was still aroused and wide awake, so as soon as it sounded like you and Ron were asleep I used my wand to, um, relieve the tension.”

Harry’s jaw had dropped halfway through the story, and he had to force it closed before he could speak.  “You … did that … right there … while Ron and I were …?”

Hermione blushed again in a mixture of pride and embarrassment.  “Yeah, pretty daring for a boring bookworm, huh?”

“I swear I’m never going to think that about you again,” Harry declared.  “Well, actually I haven’t thought that for several months now.”  He paused.  “Wait a minute, you said I got you excited?”

“Oh Harry, surely it must have been obvious that I was totally smitten with you.  It was worst during third and fourth year.”  Harry’s only response was to shake his head slowly so she went on.  By fifth year I had decided to ignore it and after that I placed you firmly in the ‘best friend only’ category in my mind.  It was obvious that you didn’t see me that way.  I mean, you started lusting after Cho and she was everything I wasn’t …”

“Hermione, stop,” Harry interrupted.  “You are so much more than Cho could ever be.”

“Thank you Harry,” Hermione smiled as she stroked his cheek.  “I know you feel that way now but back then …”

“I was a complete idiot,” Harry finished.

“You were a teenaged boy who was attracted to a pretty, athletic girl,” Hermione corrected.  “Don’t be too hard on yourself.  It wasn’t as if any other boys were interested in me either.”

“Except Krum,” Harry pointed out.

“Yes, but Viktor was overwhelmed with fan girls and more importantly, he was seventeen and had enough experience to be able to look past the surface.”

“But still, I knew you better than he did and …”

“And you were fourteen,” Hermione insisted.  “And now you’re seventeen and I’m eighteen and here we are.  See, it all worked out.”

Harry nodded that she had a point, and reached out to take her in his arms.  She settled herself on his lap and wiggled her bum against his erection, making sure it stayed hard.  After another groan Harry retaliated by fondling her breasts and giving her nipples a little pinch.  This got the desired moan out of her and he grinned and gave her a little kiss.

“Third and fourth year, huh,” he mused.  “I thought maybe you fancied Ron back then.”  Hermione scowled and pushed him away, but stayed on his lap.

“How could anyone think I fancied Ron then?  He wouldn’t even speak to me the last half of third year.  Then he insulted me those times during fourth year.  What kind of idiot would fancy someone like that?”

“But the Yule Ball …” Harry objected.

“I wanted you to ask me, you git!” she sighed.  “But you only had eyes for Cho so I gave up and said yes to Viktor.  And then after the second task …” she sighed again.

“What?” he insisted, but this time she just shook her head and leaned it back against his chest.  He began running his hands over her again, making her shudder.  He diverted one down between her legs and began stroking the smooth skin there, allowing his experienced fingers to slide down to just the right spot.  Soon he had her moaning her pleasure.

“So, my dear Miss Granger,” he began.

“Mrs. Potter,” she corrected with a contented smile.

“So, my dear Mrs. Potter,” he continued without skipping a beat.  “Is there any particular fantasy you enjoyed back then that you might wish to reenact this evening?”

“Hermione thought a moment, then turned red again.  “As a matter of fact …”

“Yes?”

“Well, what I was about to say just now, after the second task I used to fantasize that you saved me instead of Viktor.  That I was your most precious thing.”  She paused to sigh.  “I know,” she continued before he could say anything.  “You did try to save me too.  But in my fantasy it was a bit different.”

“OK.” 

“In my fantasy I was under the water chained to the pillar, but totally naked.  And I was awake so I could see you swimming toward me.  And you were totally naked too.  And I was hoping you would get there first before anyone woke up and saw us because none of the other hostages were naked and neither were any of the other champions.”  Harry was fascinated and hanging on her every word.  She paused and smirked at him again.  “And it’s my fantasy, so don’t go thinking about a naked Cho or a naked Fleur.”

“I wasn’t,” Harry whispered as he pulled back a bit and let his eyes roam up and down her body, causing her to shiver delightedly. 

Hermione closed her eyes and moved her hands to her breasts, beginning to fondle herself as she continued.  You came swimming up to me and when you saw me floating there naked you got hard like you are now and then you kissed me and gathered me up in your arms.”  Harry took the cue and knelt on the bed, scooping her up into his arms.  She smiled but kept her eyes closed.  “Then you swam to the surface but instead of coming up in the middle of the lake we were by ourselves in a tropical lagoon.  You waded ashore with me still in your arms, both of us naked and dripping wet.” 

She dropped one of her hands down between her legs and began stroking there.  This freed up one of her breasts so Harry leaned down and kissed it, then licked the rock hard nipple.  Hermione moaned loudly at this and squirmed, but still didn’t open her eyes.  If anything, the smile on her face grew even broader.  Harry had an idea and slid off the bed and walked slowly toward the bathroom.  Stepping into the large, ornate shower, he flicked the lever and water came cascading down onto them, soaking them thoroughly in a matter of seconds.  Hermione yelped loudly and her eyes flew open in surprise, but then she just buried her head into Harry’s chest and laughed heartily.

“I wanted to make it as realistic as possible,” Harry claimed with a grin.

“Harry Potter, you are incorrigible!” Hermione shouted between her laughter.

“And you, Hermione Potter, are very wet.” Harry retorted, joining her laughter.  Hermione rubbed her head against his chest to get the wet hair out of her eyes, then looked up at him lovingly.

“Do you want to know how the fantasy ends?” Hermione purred in a low voice.  Harry nodded.  “You lay me down on a bed of tropical flowers and make love to me.”

“If I carry you back to the bed do you think you could conjure up some flowers? Harry whispered into her ear.  Hermione nodded eagerly and her heart began pounding.

Back in the bedroom, Harry stooped by the side of the bed so Hermione could reach her wand, and when she had covered the surface with brightly colored tropical flowers he laid her down and crawled alongside her, waiting while she performed a contraceptive charm.  Then he began running his fingers through her wet hair, fanning it out behind her on the bed, while kissing her face.  He moved from her forehead to her eyes to her nose and then lingered for a while on her lips.  All the while Hermione kept her eyes closed and smiled broadly.

He began to work his way down, kissing down her neck to her shoulders, and then to her breasts, as she began making little whimpering noises.  Here he brought his hands into play, fondling and kissing simultaneously, and ended with a little nibble on each nipple, causing her to squirm again and moan loudly.  He continued down her smooth, flat belly and then repositioned himself between her legs.  Again he brought his hands into the action, sliding a finger into her while his tongue flicked the sensitive little nub that he knew so well by now.  Hermione cried out and her hips bucked against him, and she grabbed his head with her hands, weaving her fingers into his wet hair.

“Harry!” she gasped between moans.  “Do it!  Put it in now!”  Harry smiled and moved back up and hovered over her on his hands and knees, then lowered himself.  Hermione grabbed him and guided him into position at her entrance, then whispered.  “Just go in slowly this time.”

Once again she enveloped him with her warm tight wetness, and this time he was able to appreciate it fully.  For her part, Hermione shifted her hips a bit, trying to find the most comfortable position, then moaned again as he filled her and she wrapped her arms around his back.  It still ached a little, but nothing like before.

“Oh Harry, this is so … so right.” She sighed contentedly.  “It’s like, I feel completed.  Like fitting the last piece into a puzzle.”  She finally opened her eyes and gazed lovingly into his.

“I love you,” he responded simply.  Then he silenced her with a long kiss.

“OK, you can start to move now,” she told him after it had ended.  First slowly, then building up the pace, with as much tenderness as he could manage Harry began sliding in and out of her.  The sensations were delightful, but some of the soreness was still present, and the direct stimulation was no longer there.  After a while she said softly, “You go ahead and finish.  I don’t think it’s going to work for me today.  We can try to do me again tomorrow.”  She could tell from his breathing that he was nearly there, and wanted to feel him release inside her again.

Harry leaned up and rested on his elbows.  He could tell that she had been enjoying having him inside her, but had realized she wasn’t getting close and still wanted to make it happen for her.  “I have another idea to try first, OK?  Hermione nodded and hugged him, thinking he had to be the best lover in the world.

“No, don’t!” Hermione whimpered as Harry moved away and began to come out of her.  “I like having you inside me.”

“Don’t worry, it’s only for a few seconds,” Harry reassured her.  “Roll over on your side.”  Hermione complied, realizing now what he had in mind.  Harry moved up behind her and pressed his hips up against her bum.  She reached down between her legs and guided him again and once more he slipped into her.

“Hey, it gets easier every time,” he teased.  In response, she tightened her pelvic muscles, which made him jump.

“Oooh, this is a little different,” she breathed as he settled in.  “I think you can go in deeper this way.”  She rocked herself back against him in illustration, and he gasped as he felt himself push in even farther.

“Now, hold on,” he instructed.  He rotated them so he was on his back and she was above him, with her back still to his chest, exposing the whole front of her.  He arranged some pillows under his head and shoulders so he could lean up, then wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly to himself.  “How’s this?” he asked.

“Oh, this is nice,” she acknowledged.  “Just like the first time we … well the first time you gave me an orgasm.  Only this is better,” she added, “because you’re inside me.”

Harry nodded and moved one hand down between her legs again and the other to one of her breasts, and proceeded to replay the original scene in the drawing room, but with one important difference.  As he stroked her he kept still inside her at first, listening to her mounting excitement.  As she neared her climax he began moving in and out slowly, and he could feel her getting more moist inside, enabling him to slide within her more easily.

“Oh! … Oh!” she called out.  “Don’t … no … yes … oh yes … do that … OH!  OH HARRY!!”  She screamed, arching her back and rising so far into the air that Harry had to raise his hips off the bed to stay inside her.  “Oh!  Oh!” she continued as he felt the pressure rise up inside him and he began thrusting in earnest.  Once more, the sight of her orgasming and the pressure of her pelvic muscles tightening around him excited him so much that he followed her a short time later, exploding into her again and shouting out his love for her over and over.  For Hermione, the feel of him swelling inside her just prior to his release sent her over the edge again, and another wave of pleasure surged through her body.

They collapsed, sweaty and exhausted, and very, very satisfied.  “Oh God, Harry, you are the absolute best … oh that was prefect,” Hermione gasped.  Harry just wrapped her up as tightly as he could.  He could feel her still throbbing against him, as he was still inside her, and he could tell that he wasn’t going to soften any time soon.  He shifted below her to try to get more comfortable and Hermione’s hands immediately shot to his hips.

“Don’t move,” she ordered, still breathing hard.  “Stay right where you are.”

Harry grinned.  He didn’t mind this kind of bossiness from her a bit.  “How about if we roll back onto our sides?” he suggested.  Hermione considered a moment and nodded.

Once on their sides, Hermione reached behind her and grabbed his bum, pulling him into her as far as she could, while pushing herself back against him.  Harry reached his arm over her and cupped his hand around her breast.  Hermione nodded her approval.  “Now, stay like this,” she insisted sleepily.  “Stay inside me like this forever.”

“That might make eating and sleeping a bit difficult,” he teased, repeating his comment from that first day in the drawing room.

“Sleeping, no problem,” she countered with a yawn.  “We’re going to do this every night for the rest of our lives.”  She paused and seemed to ponder the other problem.  “Eating is highly overrated,” she decided.  Harry chuckled and just hugged her to himself again, nuzzling her hair away from her shoulder and kissing her lightly on the neck.  Soon he closed his eyes.

Hermione lay there a bit longer before joining him in sleep.  They had done it.   She and Harry had destroyed Voldemort together.  They were married.  Her husband had just made incredible love to her.  Life was perfect.  And it would get even better.

-xox-XOX-XOX-xox-

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