Hermione rubbed her temples, staring down at the maps and notes spread out on the tent table. The end of the war was so close. Just Nagini and Voldemort left.
Harry came up from behind her, his hands sliding up her back to dig into the tense muscles of her shoulders. She dropped her hands, groaning and relaxing under his skilled fingers.
“You know, you could be a masseuse after all this is over.”
“You want me massaging other witches?” Sly teasing echoed in his voice, and she could imagine his smirk.
“I meant my personal masseuse. You could follow me around everywhere and massage me on command.”
Harry laughed. “Well, I agree on the following you around part. We can negotiate commands.”
Hermione grew warm thinking of the last time he had ‘negotiated’ with her. “You’re better at occlumency than me. It’s an unfair advantage.”
“Mhmm.” Harry’s hand slid down over her breasts as he leaned forward. His mouth was near her ear. “Does your head hurt?”
“A little.”
“Want something to help you sleep?”
Hermione caught his hands from their meandering path over her breasts. “Are you offering, sir?”
For a second, his hands tightened and his mouth pressed harder against her neck, the edge of his teeth against her skin. “You make it hard to control myself sometimes,” Harry muttered, pulling back a little. “I’ll make you some tea to help you sleep. How's that?”
“Oh, I don’t–” Hermione cut off, sucking a sharp breath when his hand slipped under her shirt.
“I would feel better if you did.” He pressed a sweet kiss where he had nipped her earlier. “Please, Hermione?”
Harry did feel tense, and she knew he was worried about her, especially with the end of things nearing. “Okay.” She said.
Harry pressed another kiss to her neck before walking to the kitchen area to prepare some tea. Hermione glanced over the paperwork again, a little stab of anxiety making her head throb as she reviewed the estimates of Voldemort’s follower count.
They had numbers on their side for people not wanting to live under Voldemort’s rule, but those who were willing to actually fight and risk their lives were much, much less than Voldemort had. They needed some way to make sure they could fight him without all of his little death-eaters in tow.
Harry pulled her chair out, physically pulling her away from the data. The two saucers of tea floated behind him as he led her to the bed, propping them both up side by side with conjured pillows.
Hermione leaned against him, holding out her hand as her tea floated into her grasp. The cup was warm, and she took a sip and immediately felt the warmth race through her, relaxing her. She was definitely going to sleep well tonight.
“Wow, this has a kick. What did you put in it?” Hermione asked looking at him.
Harry didn’t look at her, staring into his cup. “Just something to help you sleep.”
She watched him for a minute, but he didn’t look at her. “It’s all going to be okay, you know?”
Harry took a sip of his tea but didn’t respond, and she took another sip of hers.
“Whatever happens, we’ll be together.” Hermione sipped again, concentrating on holding her hand even. “As long as I’m with you—it’s going to be okay. I know it.”
Hermione wondered where it would happen, her head leaned back against Harry and she brought the cup up to her lips a little awkwardly, barely drinking anything. “Where do you think he will go?”
“He’s going to Hogwarts,” Harry said softly, taking the cups and putting them on the table beside the bed.
Hermione frowned, feeling fuzzy. “I know I’m tired, but I feel just so— so…” Her voice trailed off.
Harry shifted, his hands coming around her, lowering her to the pillow, and running his hand softly through her hair. “I know. Go to sleep. Everything will be fine when you wake up.”
Hermione tried to tighten her hand on him, straining to make her fingers clutch at his shirt. “Harry—Harry—what did you do?”
He leaned closer to her, seeming to understand she was trying to pull him close, his lips almost touching hers. “I told you the tea would help you sleep.”
“You.. what…” her lips were numb and she could barely speak, Harry’s face blurring in front of her.
“I’ll kill him, Hermione, by the time you wake up. I promise.” His voice was hoarse and low as he whispered to her. “You’ll be safe. I just need that, okay? Please, I’ll be here when you wake up. I love you.”
“Mun..daree..” she forced out, pushing with all her might, feeling her magic respond, sluggishly trying to purge whatever Harry had given her. “You.. jerk! I’m… going… with you! I’m going… you!”
Hermione felt the press of his wand on her sternum. “Harry—don’t—”
And then blackness overtook her.
1 week later…
Hermione woke up screaming Harry’s name in the tent, rolling off the bed. “Harry!”
She stumbled, her legs feeling stiff, muttering healing and strengthening spells under her breath as she snatched up her wand from the bedside table. A note and a backpack full of supplies sat at the table near the bed, waiting for her.
That bloody bastard!
Hermione couldn’t let herself feel the fear that she was too late, that something might have already—that he might be—
“No, you arsehole! No!” She upended the backpack impatiently, the contents scattering over the tent table. She needed to find him. He said Hogwarts and there was one bloody surefire way to make sure she wasn’t going down the wrong path. “Accio Mauraders Map!”
The map flew to her from across the tent, and she tapped it impatiently. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”
The names appeared rapidly, moving swiftly along the corridors shown by the map. Neville, Ron, Luna—there! She spotted him in the courtyard across from Voldemort.
Harry. Her heart clenched, and she ran outside, hitting face-first into wards that bounced her back on her butt. “Argh!”
Hermione tried to disapparate and bounced off the ward again, getting thrown back violently as it repelled her. Harry had set them up not just to keep people out–but to keep her in.
She was going to kill him! No, first she was going to kill Voldemort, then she would kill him! Raising her wand, she pulled at the wards, trying to break them. Harry’s magic resisted, having dug into the grounds in the days the wards had been standing.
“No, no, no, no!” Hermione pushed harder, magic zapping like electricity between her wand and Harry’s ward. Cracks appeared in the ward and a loud hissing resounded as if thousands of snakes had been disturbed.
The hissing echoed in through the forest, and she could see snakes slithering through the forest, coming to the ward. What the actual fuck.
Snakes circled the barrier, little arcs of magic bouncing between the ward and the snakes surrounding it. The ward started glowing brighter as the snakes slowly seemed to multiply as more came called by the barrier. The cracks she had made slowly started to seal up, somehow the damn reptiles giving some kind of magic back to the ward, bolstering it.
Fine, fine, he wanted to use parsel magic? He thought that would stop her?
She ripped her wand down, stopping her attack on the ward, and marched back into the tent, grabbing a knife and coming back out.
Hermione stuck her wand under her arm before taking a slow breath, bracing herself, and putting the knife to her hand. A sob broke free as she slowly cut the Celtic symbol for freedom into her palm, blood dripping rapidly.
She was so dumping his ass after she saved it. Goddamnit, Harry. She was supposed to be there, fighting by his side.
Hermione slapped her bleeding hand against the ward, while the other pointed her wand, magic arcing out like currents of water, splashing against the ward, her blood traveling upward spreading thin as it intermingled with Harry’s magic and bound the ward to her.
“Break!” She screamed, pushing with all her might.
There’s an odd quality to silence after a violent fight, as if the air still trembles in the aftermath. The volume of everything turned down low as the earth pauses, adjusting to the violence that had ended.
Harry stared at Voldemort’s corpse lying on the ground. Voldemort seemed so small now as if his body had shrunk when he died. Harry knew he needed to move; he needed to get back to —
The silence was ripped away by hysterical cheers, and right after—another scream. A scream that seemed to pull at his gut. Hermione .
Harry looked around frantically. Hermione shouldn’t be here—she should be asleep, safe, warded. A knot formed in his throat as if he was choking as Harry looked through the garishly smiling crowd, trying to find his curly brown-haired witch.
“Hermione!” Harry screamed, shoving people aside, as they laughed, their eyes frantic with relief as if they couldn’t believe Harry had won. Some arsehole started singing a ditty and others joined in, the crowd edging closer and closer to Voldemort’s corpse cautiously, as if afraid he was some boogeyman that would jump up and scare them.
Maybe he had imaged her scream–there was no way she could have—
Hermione smashed into his back. Harry knew it was her from the first touch of her hand. Harry whirled around, frantically looking her over. She had streaks of blood dripping down her clothes and her hand.
“What the hell Hermione—”
Tears dripped down her face as she stared at him and then threw her hands over his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. “How could you! You bloody arsehole! How could you!” She sobbed, her fingers clenching tight. “I would have gone with you—I would have fought!”
Of course, he knew she would have fought. What he didn’t know was if she would have survived it. He honestly hadn’t thought he would survive, but he figured as long as he took out Voldemort, she would be okay.
Hermione was smart and tough, he just needed to make it a little safer for her before he went. Harry wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her, breathing in her scent. “I know.”
She tried to pull back violently at that, shoving at him, but Harry didn’t let her go. “Hermione–”
Hermione shoved at him violently again. “I love you, you bloody bastard! How could you do that to me?”
“Because I love you too.” Wasn’t that obvious? That he’d do anything for her? How could he be okay with risking her life like that?
Tears glittered in her eyes and she flinched, jerking her arm down between them. Hurt, love, and betrayal swirled in her eyes, turning them bright. “I can’t forgive you this.”
His heart stuttered at the surety of her voice. She sounded so resolute, her mind made up. Hermione wasn’t one to change her mind on a whim. “You will.” The words sounded almost pleading coming from his mouth. He noticed the way the blood was still on her hand– what the hell was that?
“Hermione your hand—” Harry tried to pull it away from where she had it cradled to her chest, but she slapped at him with her other hand.
“Don’t fucking touch me! A relationship is two people–together, Harry! Not one making all the decisions! We’re not coming back from this.”
She slipped through the crowd, unnoticed, while everyone tried to stop him to congratulate him. “Hermione wait!”
He almost caught her when he heard the crack of her disapparition, she was gone and didn’t have a clue where she might go. Fuck. The crowd hadn’t even noticed the confrontation. The cheering and wild celebrations were deafening.
Harry stopped, looking around for a moment, feeling a bit crazed. The cheers were crass and obscene with the bodies of the dead still laying about, faces twisted. He was bruised and bloody fucking starving. He hadn’t eaten in at least two days. Hermione couldn’t have fucking broken up with him some other time other than right after he killed the evilest fucking wizard in recent history?
Sure, he had drugged her, but really, could you blame him? Could she really fucking blame him for trying to keep her safe?
“I think she can, Potter.”
Malfoy’s voice made him realize he had been ranting out loud like a bloody nutter. Harry turned to him, feeling untethered. His fucking anchor had just abandoned him. “Too bad! That’s too fucking bad! She made her bloody choice and now she’s mine! There is no bloody fucking take backsies!”
Draco gave a slightly hysterical giggle that caused Harry to look at him more closely. Harry noted how pale Malfoy looked and realized he was bleeding from his shoulder profusely. Malfoy’s black robe was wet all the way down to his feet with his own blood.
“Get to a healer, you idiot. I already have to deal with Hermione. I don’t have time to handle Luna doing weird shit if you’re injured.”
Malfoy stood staring at him in a daze, his pupils wide and not quite processing what was happening around him. Harry caught him as he started to slide toward the ground. No one in the crowd noticed. They could probably trample him to death and the crowd would be celebrating on their bodies. Fuckers.
Harry dragged Draco towards the Great Hall where an impromptu healing area had been set up, cracks of apparitions almost constant as the word spread that the fight was over and the Hogwarts wards were down.
A healer spotted them and immediately came over to help Harry get Draco to a bed. Medical diagnostics started spinning above Draco, detailing his wounds while the Healer cut away his robe to inspect his shoulder and pour dittany.
Draco’s sober grey eyes met his for a moment. “I’m sorry, Harry.” He told him quietly.
The sober intensity of Draco’s words was a heavy weight dragging Harry back to earth from where he had been floating above it all unmoored before. Hermione had fucking left him. The emotions seemed to rise and choke him, his chest tightening as pain radiated through him.
She fucking left him, and he had only wanted to protect her. She fucking left him twenty yards away from Voldemort’s freakish fucking corpse!
The emotions bubbled and frothed inside him, the tray of medicines beginning to rattle as his magic surged wanting to explode outward. Harry’s fist clenched as he pushed it down, swallowing hard.
Harry pushed past the unsteady moment slowly, pulling his magic back under control. The cool rush of occlumency was like a splash of water in his face, bringing him back. Harry smiled cockily into Draco’s sober face. “Shut up, you idiot. Everything’s going to be fine. She can’t resist me.”
He ignored the doubt in Malfoy’s eyes and left him with the healer. He needed to go find Hermione to show her exactly why she couldn’t walk away from him.
Harry didn't need to search the crowd for Hermione. He could feel her gaze on him like a touch. He had caught the snitch and his Slytherin teammates lifted hip high above his cheering housemates.
Even after the war and everything they went through together, their laughter had an edge. They were Slytherins after all.
They weren’t just celebrating the win; they were celebrating that the other team lost .
Harry made eye contact with Draco as the crowd shifted, still carrying him as they moved towards the dungeons for the after-party. Draco moved towards a cluster of Ravenclaws and Harry faced forward again with a smile.
With the war over and emphasis on building unity by the school, many Slytherins had decided that meant they could shag their secret crushes without worrying about a gimpy souled dark lord.
The music was loud and thumping making the stone walls vibrate faintly—making everyone's heart beat harder. Harry finally persuaded Crabbe and Goyle to put him down once they reached the middle of the Slytherin common room.
The crowd shifted, and Harry spotted her through a gap, standing close to Luna Lovegood who was having a staring contest with Draco.
It was easy to maneuver Hermione away from her friend. After so many years working off each other's plays and with the incentive of capturing his own little Ravenclaw, Draco gave him the assist, and he had Hermione Jean Granger pressed against a dark dungeon corner in no time.
Harry kept a careful watch on her hands as he moved close. If she had ever managed to get over her fear of heights, she would have given him a proper challenge in quidditch with how quick her little hands were. He didn’t want to end his winning game night in the hospital because Hermione got grumpy with him.
"So, have you forgiven me yet?"
Her chin rose. "Never."
Harry leaned closer, smelling her vanilla and books scent. How embarrassing that sometimes walking into a bookstore made him hard now.
"Maybe you're here because you want me to persuade you."
Harry watched her closely as he put his hands on her waist, pulling her against him.
Hermione gave a little smirk as she felt his hard length press against her. Her combination of intelligence and violence hit all his fucking buttons. His hands slid lower to cup her ass so he could grind against her.
Her hand slid up his chest to tangle in his hair with a sharp yank. "I'm just here to make you suffer, looking at what you can't have."
Harry gave a little moan against her neck. How embarrassing would it be to cum in public? It had been months since she let him into her bed.
"Look, the next time I go out to kill some wannabe ruler of the wizarding world, I'll be sure to wake you up." He promised quickly.
Her nails dug into his skin. "You fucking potioned me! ME!"
Well, of course, Harry had. He wasn’t about to take her into a battle he had been fairly certain he was meant to die in. Her cheeks were flushed from a combination of anger and arousal, and his mouth wandered along her neck. There was the faintest tremble in her hands when she finally pushed him away. Harry could see the skin darkening on her neck where he may have sucked a bit too rough.
"If you could go back, would you do it again?" Hermione asked him quietly.
She had asked him this several times already. It was a test Harry knew. He ached for her, but he wouldn't lie. "Yes."
She exploded like a little bombarda at his answer, shoving him away and stomping off. "Fuck you! You fucking misogynistic git!"
"So I'll see you in runes tomorrow? Love you!" Harry called after her, before adjusting himself gloomily.
"Why don't you just lie to her?" Theo asked as he came up beside Harry, both of them staring off in the direction where Hermione had disappeared.
"Honesty is important in a relationship."
"You potioned her asleep through the last week of battle."
Harry shrugged. "I told her it would help her sleep."
"It's weird that she still comes to all your games."
Harry spotted her as the crowd shifted, their gaze meeting despite the dimness and he saw the violent emotion swirling in her gaze. Then Hermione stepped out of the dungeons, the wall sliding closed and hiding her from sight.
"She loves me."
Harry watched the little dragon he had been working on finally breathe a puff of real fire instead of just smoke.
"So explain to me your logic on how making your pissed-off girlfriend a miniature fire-breathing Hungarian Horntail is going to make her happy with you?” Theo questioned, looking at the obviously grumpy little dragon.
"I thought you were trying to get back with her Potter. Don't you know witches like jewelry?" Draco gave a sneering look towards the little scarred dragon who gave a tiny roar and flapped into the air. It swooped toward Draco, trying to breathe fire in his face. Draco shooed the tiny dragon away, his hand protectively over his eyebrows.
"Remind me what Luna did with her diamond bracelet?" Harry asked.
"Oh yeah. Didn't she use it as a trail of breadcrumbs for snorkacks?" Theo smirked, remembering Draco’s face as he saw the glittering trail of diamonds in the dirt.
"The point being! It's better than a temperamental dragon toy!" The dragon darted about in the air around Draco’s head, still trying to set fire to his eyebrows.
After a few minutes, the tiny Dragon gave up and huffed a ring of smoke in Draco’s direction, giving up on burning off his eyebrows, and flew back to land in front of Harry.
Harry reached out and petted it, its scales hard but smooth, and it gave him a sideways glare.
"Er. I'm not saying I agree with Draco about the jewelry thing. But maybe a mean little enchanted dragon is not the best way of earning her forgiveness?" Theo said.
"Well, it won't be mean to her. I used a lock of her hair in the enchantment when I created it so it will bind the dragon to her. If anything, it will adore her."
Draco and Theo looked at him. "Mate, you didn't cut off a piece of her hair, did you?"
"I'm not that bad! Of course, I didn't!"
They both looked at the temperamental little dragon and didn't reply.
Harry picked up his perfect replica of Hungarian Horntail from the Triwizard task that had marked a significant milestone in their relationship.
“It's private between me and her. You guys wouldn’t understand.” As if to punctuate his point, the little dragon made a tiny roaring noise in their direction.
Hermione was washing her hands in the bathroom when the door opened and Pansy strutted in with her perfectly coiffed straight black hair.
"Pansy." Her little enchanted dragon made a tiny growling noise from where it clutched the barret in her hair. Pansy came up next to her, leaning on the sink.
"So how long are you going to make Potter suffer?"
"None of your business."
"I've seen the way you look at him."
"Congrats on not needing glasses."
"He looks at you the same way."
"Again, none of your business."
"You don't share a common room with him and his constant moaning over you. He has purchased all the pictures that annoying Gryffindor Creevy took of you, and you and I both know what he's probably doing with them." They both shared a little smirk.
"Look, I get your trying to help your friend. But he stepped over the line, and I get that's a Slytherin thing, but I will not put up with that bollocks."
Pansy's face flushed a little in anger. "You get that he thought he was going to die, right?"
"And I would have stood by him."
"And he's not a fucking Gryffindor to be okay with that. Harry wasn’t going there to die for me. He wasn’t going there to die to stop other Charity Burbages from dying. He went there to die so that you would be safer! And you're over here with your horrifically bad jumpers acting like an ungrateful brat!"
"And what about the next time? When he decides it's dangerous or he doesn't want me doing something?" Hermione paused, rubbing her head. How had Pansy drawn her into this anyway? Her little dragon Smaug had crawled to perch on the top of her head eyeing Pansy.
"I'm not comfortable with a relationship where I don't know if by taking a RELAXING TEA FROM MY BOYFRIEND TO HELP ME SLEEP WILL RESULT IN ME WAKING UP A WEEK LATER!"
"Fine, be a dumb bint! Find someone who loves you less!"
"You're such an idiot. She asked you again, didn't she?" Pansy eyed Harry with a pitying look as they both sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall.
"The foundation of a healthy relationship is honesty." Theo and Draco said in chorus from either side of Harry.
"Dumb. Lying is essential. What about when she's wearing those terrible jumpers she likes and asks you if she looks cute?"
"She does look cute in those jumpers!" Harry shot back with a glare.
"What's everyone on about jumpers?" Blaise asked as he sat down next to Pansy.
"We were talking about Hermione’s jumpers." Theo offered.
Blaise shuddered. "Oh Merlin, those hideous things."
Harry made strange growling noises.
"Look what you did, Pans. He's de-evolving." Draco smirked.
"Careful, he'll turn into a Gryffindor. Isn't that what the hat thought, Harry?" Theo asked.
Blaise cuddled up to Pansy, who was still glaring at Harry. "Wasn't it Hufflepuff, Theo?"
Pansy laid her head against Blaise's shoulder. "I love it when you're mean."
Hermione walked by in a hideous blue jumper with a poorly stitched eagle on it. A little enchanted dragon figurine perched on her shoulder, and eyed the group of Slytherins suspiciously.
Harry stood up to follow her but first smacked the back of Draco’s head. "It's your girlfriend that makes her those!"
Then he pointed at all of them. "And I was never almost sorted into Hufflepuff!"
Hermione sucked on a sugar quill as she made her way slowly to the greenhouse to meet up with Neville, where she had promised to help him re-pot some plants.
She had left early and was taking a long route so she could enjoy the crisp fall air.
Her little dragon, Smaug, a present from Harry, perched on her shoulder, making smoke rings that floated up in the air.
Smaug regarded her hair as his gold hoard and became irritable if she left him behind.
She wasn't terribly surprised when Harry stepped into her path.
"You've got to stop channeling your inner stalker Potter. It's creepy."
His gaze landed on the candy she was eating. "Who gave that to you?"
"Why? So you can threaten them?"
"Maybe I'll just hex them so they get pimples across their face that spell bitch."
"Ha! One- no one knows who did that - and I maintain my innocence and two, she deserved it!"
Harry plucked her candy out of her hand, throwing it to the side in the dirt.
"I can't believe you just did that," Hermione said a little bemusedly, staring at her dirt-covered candy.
"You don't want witches trying to hug me fine. I don't want you sucking on something someone else gave you."
"I CAN'T believe you just said that!"
Her wand was in her hand and shoved up against his throat before she even blinked.
"You're a sneaky, backstabbing snake!"
Her skin felt hot, and she was so angry with him that her heart was thumping hard. His pale green eyes watched her closely as the silence fell between them. Both of them knew her anger wasn't about today or her stolen candy.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry said softly.
She averted her eyes, blinking rapidly. "You betrayed my trust. You don't get to say sorry and make me dragons and give me gifts and think everything will be okay between us."
"Because I made one mistake, that's it?"
Hermione sighed, suddenly tired and sad. Her wand dropped to her side, and she shook her head. Harry still didn't get it.
Harry stepped closer, one hand around her waist while the other cupped the back of her neck. He didn't even flinch when he felt Smaugs' teeth chomp on his fingertip.
"How can you throw us away? Hermione, don't you remember how it was?" She shivered as he whispered in her ear. "Fighting all day and fucking all night?"
She shook her head and his hand snagged roughly in her hair, keeping her still. "I remember... holding your thighs apart as you trembled as I took my time licking your little pussy. So so sensitive...and you liked it when I spoke parseltongue against you, right?"
Hermione moaned as he hissed against her ear, setting all her nerve endings on fire, and she squeezed her thighs together.
"Remember what I told you to say?"
Tell me you're mine.
The words and the images ran through both their minds and her breath caught.
Hermione’s heart beat a little faster as she stood uncertainly in the middle of the dark corridor.
The day was almost over. Harry always made a big deal of today, the day they became a couple. He would whisper to her it was his favorite day of the year. Because it was the day she told she him she wanted to be with him too.
Harry had watched her all day subdued, his green eyes stormy. Would they- would she- let it pass unacknowledged for the first time in years?
Her stomach twisted at the thought. Harry knew every secret room, every secret passageway. And he had taken so much pleasure in showing her them all, including one room that was his favorite. It was near the Astronomy Tower and was probably a forgotten Professor's quarters, as Hogwarts sometimes liked to hide its rooms. Her feet climbed the steps as she argued with herself. Harry probably wasn't there.
Harry wasn't going to be there.
The words beat in her mind as she got closer to the secret room.
You can't shove someone away for months and expect them to wait for you. To be there for you...forever.
Hermione stood in front of the blank wall, staring at the bricks, her wand in her hand. He wasn’t going to be there. She tapped on the bricks and they pulled back to show the door. She yanked it open, stepped inside, and closed it behind her.
"Hermione." His voice was strained and his hands rough as he pressed her against the door.
She could barely breathe, as it felt like he set her skin on fire with his touch.
He's here. He's here. He's here.
His lips parted against hers and his tongue slipped into her mouth. The way Harry kissed was impossible to describe, maybe because he was a parselmouth, maybe because it was him.
When he kissed her, everything faded except him. No books, no dark wizards, no unfortunate cups of relaxing tea.
Just his incredible fucking tongue in her mouth. She felt his hands reach down and grab her legs, pulling her up. He bounced her a bit to settle her against him and shamefully, that's all it took. She tightened her legs around him as she came, dry humping against him.
Harry groaned, helping her ride it out, and walking to the bed. It was only when he started yanking at her robes that a semblance of thought intruded.
He whipped her robe over her head and her hands shot out holding him back from pressing her into the bed to fuck her.
"Wait! Wait!" Hermione cried, squirming against him. His eyes were passion glazed, a slash of red across his cheekbones. His chest was so hot where she touched him, her fingers spread to cover as much skin as possible.
Harry stopped every muscle tense. His hand came up to brush her hair back from her face.
"Don't make me stop," Harry said as he slowly, and deliberately pushed against her hand, his unblinking gaze capturing hers. Then he moved his head lower, dragging his lips along her jawline, whispering against her skin.
"Don't fight it." He nipped the side of her neck.
"Don't fight me ." He pulled back.
His hands went under her knees to pull them up around him.
"Let me have you."