Work Text:
October 1997
Ron left.
Ron really fucking left.
Harry turned to look at Hermione, who was softly wiping her tears with the back of her sleeve. She was devastated, and Harry knew that this would be a horrible time to tell her that they were soul mates.
He had learned of this fact shortly after Ginny kissed him on the morning of his birthday and right before he got into the shower.
There it was.
Plain as day.
The scar she had received in her fifth year from Dolohov.
Now painted across his chest and abdomen.
Harry had never imagined that Hermione would be his soulmate. But after he thought about it for a while, it began to make sense. She had always protected him, thrown herself into danger without a second thought for him, and even stood between him and Sirius Black, who, at the time, they thought was a prolific murderer and follower of Voldemort.
She was simply beautiful; her eyes reminded him of fresh honeycombs in the summer, and her laugh was soft like summer rain. Hermione was the brightest witch he had ever known. She was always at the forefront of new information, learning above and beyond what they needed to know.
He hated to give Ron any credit, but he was right about one thing.
They wouldn’t have survived two seconds without Hermione.
So, this was Harry’s dilemma. Tell Hermione about their matching scars and have it go piss-poor. Or keep it a secret for the rest of his life and watch her settle with Ron, knowing that it could be him making her happy for the rest of her life.
Only wizards of age receive their matching scar, so to prove this to Hermione when she inevitably laughs or screams at him, he is going to have to be shirtless.
How lovely.
“Mi?”
Harry carefully walked over to Hermione as she wiped the rest of her remaining tears onto her sleeve.
“Mi, it’ll be okay, I—I’ll take care of us now.”
She turned to look at him and smiled, sad and watery. " We’ll take care of each other.” She took his hand and placed it in her own.
With his free hand, he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away her final tears, “Mi, this is a horrible time, but I really, really need to tell you something.”
Hermione’s eyes shifted to uncertainty as her brows furrowed, “Harry?”
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and brought their joined hands to his chest, “Do you remember that on a wizard’s seventeenth birthday, they get their matching scar for their soul mate?”
She slowly nodded her head.
“Well, er, I think it would be best if I just showed you, but you have to promise not to freak out or scream, yeah?”
Once again, she nodded her head, “Harry—”
He stood on wobbly legs and slowly let go of her hand. Raising up his jumper, he revealed their matching scar.
Hermione gasped as one hand slapped over her mouth and the other clutched the fabric over her own scar, “I don’t understand.”
“Er, I’ve had time to think about it. I broke things off with Gin — for good. I just, Mi,” Harry let his jumper slide back down, covering him back up, “honestly, to me, it makes a lot of sense.”
He watched Hermione’s eyes snap to his own, “I—I know I haven’t always been the best to you, Mi. I know that. But, I just—I just want to try .”
“Try?”
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and took a steadying deep breath, “I want to be with you if—if you want to be with me.”
Complete silence.
Harry could hear his own breathing and heartbeat. He could feel the stillness of the air between them as not a single word was uttered. He opened his eyes and saw Hermione’s face. He knew that face; it was her arithmancy face. She was calculating just how good or bad this would be.
And he was terrified to learn the outcome.
“I have a confession,” he heard her whisper, “I’m not sad that Ron left.”
Harry’s eyes widened, “but you’ve been—”
“I’m relieved ,” Hermione cut off his sentence, “I’m relieved because now I don’t have to pretend that what I feel for you isn’t there. Now, it doesn’t have to be a secret.”
Harry watched as Hermione rose to her feet. Before he could even register his legs moving, he had closed the gap between them, cupped her face, and slotted his lips against hers.
Her lips were pillowy and full against his own. He had never imagined that kissing someone would or could ever feel this way. It certainly wasn’t like kissing Gin or Cho. It was as if all his problems had answers. It was as if he had breached the surface for the first time in his entire life. That first breath of air was life-saving. It was tears in his eyes as he swallowed oxygen for the first time in all his years.
Hermione breathed life into him.
What was half dead and mangled was now on the pathway to healing and thriving.
When Harry slowly pulled away, he looked into Hermione’s eyes and saw the feelings he felt were reciprocated. He beamed at her, knowing that this memory, that this exact moment, could conjure a patronus.
He had never been happier.
****
November 1997
They had moved quite a bit since Ronald’s departure last month.
Hermione’s nose was always in a book, trying to figure out the next horcrux and where to go. The quest to destroy the one they had was never-ending.
They had set up camp somewhere near a river. Hermione had finished the wards, and Harry had gathered wood for a fire. Harry looked at Hermione and smiled. Everything was falling into place for him. Besides the war, Harry was happy.
He had even imagined just living out in the woods with Hermione for the rest of his life. He wished they could just run away and become muggles.
“Harry?”
Harry hummed as he looked at Hermione, his face flushed when he saw her in nothing but his jumper and what he suspected was her usual pair of pink knickers. His H maroon jumper looked beautiful on her; it sat mid-thigh on her luscious legs. Harry’s eyes trailed from her feet up her calves to her thighs. From there, he slowly looked up to meet her gaze once more.
“Mi, you—wow.”
Harry closed the gap between them in an instant. He knew what she wanted because he wanted it so much more.
His fingers trailed up her thighs until they reached the hem of his jumper.
“Are you sure, Mi?”
She smiled as she nodded, “more sure than I’ve ever been about anything.”
Harry lifted his jumper up and over Hermione’s head and tossed it onto the floor. He cursed under his breath. Hermione’s tear-shaped breasts were perfect, her nipples were rosy pink, and her natural curves would’ve put the goddess to shame.
She was divinity.
Harry’s fingertips trailed down the valley of her breasts and then traced the outline of her scar — the scar he now bore as well. His fingertips went lower and lower until they reached her peony-colored knickers. Fingertips traced the lacing detail at the top, “Tell me you’re mine.”
Hermione’s heart was racing, and her breathing was ragged as she looked into Harry’s verdant gaze. She placed her hands on his jumper and then lifted it above his head, revealing his scar. She traced it just as Harry had done to hers, moving her fingertips down his chest and abdomen until they reached his belt buckle.
“ Make me yours,” Hermione replied as she opened his belt and popped open the button of his jeans.
Harry surged in and captured her lips with his own, and began to walk them toward their bed. Their lips moved fervently, furiously. Gasps of air became the only sound in the tent. When Hermione’s calves hit the bed, she pulled down Harry’s jeans and boxers, and he pulled down her knickers.
They fell into bed with one another, their bodies entangled in one another. They didn’t know where one began and where the other ended. Harry’s calloused hands ran along Hermione’s curves, “you’re beautiful, Hermione,” Harry said breathlessly.
He started to kiss her jawline, starting at her chin and moving down her throat to the junction where her neck and shoulder met. He gently bit the skin, which elicited a gasp from her. He smiled on her skin, “You’re so responsive, Mi.”
Hermione was being driven mad by the feeling of Harry’s lips on her soft, supple skin. With every searing kiss, Hermione felt herself grow more and more aroused. The slickness in between her thighs was becoming noticeable not only by herself but also by Harry.
“You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”
She nodded her head as Harry kissed down the valley of her breasts, “yes,” she breathed.
Harry, with a flat tongue, licked Hermione’s left nipple and then wrapped his lips around it. He swirled his tongue around the peak as Hermione’s breathing became more and more labored. With an audible pop, he released her nipple and moved to her right breast.
Hermione’s hands shot to Harry’s hair and gripped at the root, “Ha–Harry!”
Her back arched off the bed as Harry gently bit down on her nipple while palming her other breast. He began to roll her nipple between his fingertips, which elicited the prettiest whimper from her lips.
He moved from her nipples and breasts and stopped at her scar. He pressed his lips against it and kissed the length of it. There was not one part of her scar where his lips hadn’t been.
Hermione was vibrating with desire. Every single searing kiss made her whole body tremble, “Ha–Harry, please—”
“Patience, Mi,” Harry smiled on her stomach, “good things come to those who wait.” He continued the path he was creating on her skin. Lower and lower until he was merely inches away from her dripping sex.
“Harry—”
Harry looked up at Hermione through his lashes. There was nothing he wanted more than to bring her pleasure. So with a flat tongue, he licked her cunt slit to clit. Harry heard her gasp for air and so he did it again.
Hermione was gasping for air. Her eyes remained locked on Harry’s as he began to devour her as if she were the best thing he had ever tasted. No one had ever made her feel this amount of pleasure before. It was breath-stealing, and it was stealing all coherent thoughts from her mind.
Harry slid his middle finger into Hermione’s dripping cunt and began to pump it within her tight channel. He watched her eyes roll to the back of her head.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck.”
“Ha–Harry!”
There was something so downright sexy about the way Hermione’s back arched off the bed, the way her hands flew to his hair and gripped it tightly at the root. Harry slid in another finger as he concentrated solely on sucking Hermione’s clit.
“Fucking fuck, Harry!”
Hermione’s breathing was ragged, and tiny beads of sweat were collecting on her hairline. She was reaching the precipice of her climax at rapid speed, “Ha–Harry, do–don’t stop!”
Harry was pumping his fingers rapidly as he sucked and flicked her clit with his tongue. Every time he circled his tongue around her clit, she moaned unabashedly. When Harry grazed that sweet spot within her, she cried out at the top of her lungs for him.
“I’m going to—”
Before Hermione could even finish her sentence, she came. Testing the limits of the silencing charms that surrounded the tent, her back arched off the bed, and her head ground into the pillow beneath her head. “Harry!”
Hearing his name fall off her tongue as she cried out in pure pleasure made him nearly cum on the sheets.
Harry slowly removed his fingers from her tight channel, “Would you like a taste?”
Hermione’s chest rapidly rose and fell as she attempted to catch her breath, “yes,” she replied breathlessly.
“Open,” Harry softly commanded.
He leaned over and placed his two fingers in her mouth.
“Suck them clean, Mi.”
Hermione wrapped her lips around Harry’s fingers and proceeded to suck the tangy nectar that coated his digits. They both collectively moaned as she swirled her tongue around them.
“Fuck, Mi,” Harry was breathless as he watched her suck his fingers clean.
Hermione had never tasted herself before, but the look in Harry’s eyes made her even more aroused. She had never seen him look so feral in her entire life. His naturally unruly hair was even more touseled than before. His pupils had wholly swallowed his verdant irises.
“I need you, Harry,” Hermione spread her legs even farther apart, “please.”
Harry gulped down his next breath greedily.
This was a big deal.
Soulmates satisfying a bond was a major deal. From the second Harry made Hermione his forever — there was no going back.
“Mi, are you sure?” Harry met her eyes, “this is —”
“I want you, Harry. Forever.”
Harry positioned himself at Hermione’s entrance. He ran his hard length up and down in her glistening folds, coating it in her arousal. He looked back up at Hermione, who was staring at his cock.
“I’ll go slo—”
“There’s plenty of time to make love later,” Hermione smiled deviously, “I want you to fuck me now. ”
Harry’s own devious smile appeared, “Your wish is my command.”
In one fluid motion, he sheathed himself inside of her tight and dripping cunt. He bottomed out almost instantly, “ fuck , Mi. You’re so tight.”
Hermione gasped, “ Oh.”
Harry began to test the waters and started to thrust at the same rhythm of his thrashing heart. It just felt amazing. She felt amazing. There was nothing like it, nothing like it at all. Harry was in a state of euphoria he never thought he’d reach.
“Harr–Harry, oh gods!”
Hermione was being fucked — and she loved every second of it. The feeling of Harry’s considerable length pounding into her tightness made her cry out in pleasure for him. He was so big and thick that she didn’t know if he would fit.
“Harry!”
“Oh, gods!”
“Don’t stop! Fuck!”
“ Ngh , right there!”
It was bliss. A sensation she thought she’d never feel or know. It was everything she could’ve ever wanted — and more.
Harry was pounding ruthlessly into Hermione’s tight cunt, “do you like that? Do you like it when I fuck your tight cunt?”
“Yes! Yes!”
Harry’s lips rested on the shell of his soul mate’s ear, “That’s it, Mi. I want to hear you cry out for me. I want to hear you say my name all while you take every inch of my cock.”
The feeling of Harry’s breath on her ear made her shudder, “Harry! Gods!”
“Are you mine yet, Mi?”
Hermione gripped Harry for dear life. Her back arched off the bed, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
Are you mine yet, Mi?
“Cum inside me, and I’ll be yours.”
Harry growled, “Tell me you’re mine, and maybe I will fill your cunt with my cum.”
The idea of filling Hermione with his release did things to him. The thought that one day she’d be pregnant because of his seed—
“Harry—”
“Go on, Mi, tell me you’re mine,” Harry smiled on her skin, “two words, that’s all it takes. Two words, and you can cum again.”
Hermione was reaching her second climax rapidly. She couldn’t hold back, “I’m —yours!”
“Again, Mi.”
Hermione’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, “I need—”
“And I need you to tell me you’re mine, Mi.”
She started whining loudly, “Harry! I’m yours!”
Harry growled into her ear as he picked up the pace, “I want you to cum, Mi. Cum on my cock right now.”
Hermione unleashed a cry so loud she was sure it shook the foundation of her charms that surrounded them, “Harry! Oh fuck!”
The feeling of Hermione’s cunt clenching around his cock and milking it for all of his cum made him grunt and groan as he filled her with his seed. He loved knowing that it was his cum inside her, leaking out of her cunt ever so slightly due to the sheer size of his load.
Then — he felt it.
The tug, the tether, the bond.
It was alive and thriving.
He looked into Hermione’s eyes and saw her bright smile, “Together, forever.”
Harry cupped Hermione’s face, wearing his own bright smile, “Yeah, Mi. Together, forever.”