Fic: Left Unspoken (Harry/Hermione, One-Shot)
Title: Left Unspoken
Chapter:One-Shot
Author: Sweet-Lemmon
Rating: Pg13ish~ Light R
Pairing: Harry/Hermione
Genre: Romance
Summary: 'Sometimes is good to cross some lines...' Post Hog.
Notes: Another Repost. Written Before DH.
Birthday Fic for scifichick774.
Thanks to marie_j_granger (and husband!) for the beta! ^.^
Left Unspoken
Hermione Granger looked down nervously at the glass of wine she was holding. She wondered how they had come to this. Not that this was really something.
They were sitting on his living room couch, just drinking some wine, talking about issues which weren’t really important. At first sight it looked like an evening like all others.
However, there was something between the lines, within the air, behind the lingering touches.
Some might say it was because Ron wasn’t there, but that couldn’t be entirely true. There had been other times when Ron couldn’t make to the ‘Trio Dinner’, as they liked to call their weekly meal, thus some compromise with the Cannons- and the two of them had been just fine.
Or at least, that was what she always thought.
Gazing at her best friend face, Hermione couldn’t help but notice what a handsome man he had become. No, he wasn’t tall like Ron and his hair was of the worst rebel kind.
Someone who didn’t know him, or just didn’t pay attention- could see only an average-sized young man, with messy dark hair, wearing round glasses. However, if you knew him - and were able to see only him, to forget about his scar, or what his name represented - then you would see a handsome man, whose eyes were the most incredible shade of green.
She loved him. She had loved him for so long that she couldn’t even say when it had started. She knew- even if it hurt her- that it was a one-sided love. Harry only saw her as the best friend, the bushy haired girl. Of course, there was that little spot inside her that wished for more, but she knew- she just knew- he didn’t feel about her in that way. Otherwise, she would know. Wouldn’t she? Harry had never said or done anything that could make her think otherwise.
So, for her, it was enough. She knew she wasn’t in place to ask for more. It wasn’t a matter of low self-esteem. Or maybe it was, in a way. But Hermione thought it was better to not think about it. She didn’t think she was ugly, or uninteresting. She simply wasn’t what-who- Harry wanted.
However, she would always stay by his side. Always, as a friend- as the best friend she could be. Harry would never know- and he would never feel sorry for not reciprocating her feelings.
Hermione heaved a sigh, unconsciously aware of the slight smile on the corner of her lips. She could always lose herself in those eyes of his.
“Hermione, are you alright?” Harry asked, with concerned evident in his eyes.
Hermione’s head snapped toward Harry. “What?” She blinked twice owlishly.
“Are you alright?” he asked again. “You seemed - you seemed to have spaced out for a moment.”
“Oh.” Hermione felt her cheeks going hot. “I-I’m fine. Just thinking, that’s all.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Harry.”
Harry didn’t seem convinced but nodded anyway. After a few minutes of an awkward silence, he suddenly spoke again, “Would you have preferred if we had gone to a restaurant?”
Hermione shook her head, smiling. “No, Harry,” she said, “your place is wonderful, and the lasagna was simply delicious.”
Harry’s cheeks flushed at her praise. “Thank you, Hermione,” he replied softly, his eyes locked on hers
“You’re welcome, Harry,” she said, looking down at her glass shyly.
“More wine?” he asked, noticing that her glass was almost empty.
“No.” She shook her head, “I have a two glass limit.”
Harry smiled and moved closer to her. He took her glass from her hands, placing it on the floor. “Sometimes is good to cross some lines, some limits,” he said quietly, taking her hands on his.
Hermione felt her heart beating fast against her chest.
He couldn’t possibly... Nah!
“H-Harry...” she stammered. “I-I don’t-”
To her surprise, Harry let go a small laugh. She narrowed her eyes at him, suddenly feeling very low and inexplicably sad. Was he mocking her?
“Sorry, Hermione,” he apologized as he saw her sad gaze. “I didn’t laugh at you, but at myself.” Hermione looked confused. Harry closed his eyes, sighing deeply. “Ron didn’t have an appointment with the Cannons today.” He opened his eyes once again, a slight smile playing on the corner of his lips. “I asked him to not come.”
Hermione looked astounded. “B-But w-why?” she asked weakly, unsure to how to respond.
“D-Do I have to answer that, Hermione?” Harry leaned closer, cupping her face with his hands.
“I-I-”
“I planned this so carefully. I repeated and repeated what I want, what I need to say innumerable times in front of my mirror, and now...” He began to caress her cheek gently, his fingertips running up and down her face, tracing her nose, her cheeks, and the edge of her lips.
Hermione closed her eyes at the sensation of his soft touch. He had already touched her before, but always in a friendly way. Never like this. It was so gently yet so sensual.
“Hermione...” His voice was barely audible. Her eyelids fluttered open and she felt herself being dragged into those green eyes. “I am in love with you.”
Time seemed to have stopped.
Happy and surprised tears began to fall. Yes, she had dreamed about this moment; she had that tiny hope that helped her to get out of bed every morning, but Hermione always tried to convince herself that was only in dreams or fantasies could he fancy her, let alone love her.
In her dreams she would reply that she loved him too, making a suitably poetic reply. Yet no fancy or romantic words seemed to come to mind. She was filled only happiness and - something indescribable.
Hardly noticing the expectant look on Harry’s face, Hermione buried her hands in his thick hair, pulling him close.
She kissed him hard on the lips. At first, Harry seemed surprised, but soon enough he wrapped his arms around her, returning the kiss.
It was awkward in the beginning, she couldn’t deny that - after all, there were so many years of that so called ‘platonic friendship’ between them - but it was also perfect, sweet, gently yet subtly heated.
He deepened the kiss and she opened her mouth almost instinctively, his tongue teasing her lips before gently and slowly sliding into her mouth. Hermione moaned against his mouth, letting him taste her and molding her body to his.
When they finally broke apart, in need of air, they just gazed at each other, eyes still shinning with unspoken words.
She opened her mouth- maybe a silly attempt to say something, but Harry stopped her as he claimed her lips on his again.
This time, it wasn’t so gentle or soft. It was almost desperate, as if he needed her.
She felt her heart going at an incredible rate as his hand began traveling slowly under her skirt; his fingers touching her thighs.
She moaned, against his mouth as his fingers ran up her thighs, caressing her folds; gently touching the silk fabric of her knickers. Harry broke the kiss and gazed at her, as if he was asking for permission; making sure he wasn’t presuming too much. Hermione leaned closer to him, her hands now on his shoulders, and whispered against his ear, “my Harry.”
He smiled and began to kiss her face- placing soft kisses against her skin- on her cheeks, jaw line, the nape of her neck.
In between, Hermione’s hands traveled down his arms, and then his lower back- finally searching the hem of his shirt.
Growing bold, partly due to the wine, Hermione slipped her hands inside his shirt- her fingers finally in contact against his skin.
She let go a loud sigh as she felt his hands inside her knickers, gently stroking her most intimate part.
“Oh!” she moaned. Harry kissed her neck, slowly sliding a finger inside her. “My!” she pulled him even closer to her, adjusting her hips against his hand, letting her fingernails scratching his back skin.
Hermione bent her head, giving his mouth full access at her neck, her throat- letting him kiss her collarbone; closing her eyes as the feeling of his lips against her skin.
She didn’t know how much time had passed. Nothing really matter anymore, anyway.
His finger moved inside her, first slowly then in a rapid, uneven rhythm. Hermione’s breathing was erratic, seeming almost out of control. She wondered if her heart would stop when he slid in another finger.
“Oh!” she cried louder this time, and he moved his fingers even faster against her.
When he finally pulled his fingers out of her, Harry looked up at her. Even with her eyes still closed she could feel his stare. Hermione slowly opened her eyes and looked back at him. She brought her hands to his face, cupping it. Their eyes locked, smiles mirroring each other’s.
Before she opened her mouth, Harry placed a finger on her lips, silencing her.
He leaned closer and kissed her once again.
Perhaps ‘I love you too’ didn’t need to be said.
He already knew.
The End
Chapter:One-Shot
Author: Sweet-Lemmon
Rating: Pg13ish~ Light R
Pairing: Harry/Hermione
Genre: Romance
Summary: 'Sometimes is good to cross some lines...' Post Hog.
Notes: Another Repost. Written Before DH.
Birthday Fic for scifichick774.
Thanks to marie_j_granger (and husband!) for the beta! ^.^
Left Unspoken
Hermione Granger looked down nervously at the glass of wine she was holding. She wondered how they had come to this. Not that this was really something.
They were sitting on his living room couch, just drinking some wine, talking about issues which weren’t really important. At first sight it looked like an evening like all others.
However, there was something between the lines, within the air, behind the lingering touches.
Some might say it was because Ron wasn’t there, but that couldn’t be entirely true. There had been other times when Ron couldn’t make to the ‘Trio Dinner’, as they liked to call their weekly meal, thus some compromise with the Cannons- and the two of them had been just fine.
Or at least, that was what she always thought.
Gazing at her best friend face, Hermione couldn’t help but notice what a handsome man he had become. No, he wasn’t tall like Ron and his hair was of the worst rebel kind.
Someone who didn’t know him, or just didn’t pay attention- could see only an average-sized young man, with messy dark hair, wearing round glasses. However, if you knew him - and were able to see only him, to forget about his scar, or what his name represented - then you would see a handsome man, whose eyes were the most incredible shade of green.
She loved him. She had loved him for so long that she couldn’t even say when it had started. She knew- even if it hurt her- that it was a one-sided love. Harry only saw her as the best friend, the bushy haired girl. Of course, there was that little spot inside her that wished for more, but she knew- she just knew- he didn’t feel about her in that way. Otherwise, she would know. Wouldn’t she? Harry had never said or done anything that could make her think otherwise.
So, for her, it was enough. She knew she wasn’t in place to ask for more. It wasn’t a matter of low self-esteem. Or maybe it was, in a way. But Hermione thought it was better to not think about it. She didn’t think she was ugly, or uninteresting. She simply wasn’t what-who- Harry wanted.
However, she would always stay by his side. Always, as a friend- as the best friend she could be. Harry would never know- and he would never feel sorry for not reciprocating her feelings.
Hermione heaved a sigh, unconsciously aware of the slight smile on the corner of her lips. She could always lose herself in those eyes of his.
“Hermione, are you alright?” Harry asked, with concerned evident in his eyes.
Hermione’s head snapped toward Harry. “What?” She blinked twice owlishly.
“Are you alright?” he asked again. “You seemed - you seemed to have spaced out for a moment.”
“Oh.” Hermione felt her cheeks going hot. “I-I’m fine. Just thinking, that’s all.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Harry.”
Harry didn’t seem convinced but nodded anyway. After a few minutes of an awkward silence, he suddenly spoke again, “Would you have preferred if we had gone to a restaurant?”
Hermione shook her head, smiling. “No, Harry,” she said, “your place is wonderful, and the lasagna was simply delicious.”
Harry’s cheeks flushed at her praise. “Thank you, Hermione,” he replied softly, his eyes locked on hers
“You’re welcome, Harry,” she said, looking down at her glass shyly.
“More wine?” he asked, noticing that her glass was almost empty.
“No.” She shook her head, “I have a two glass limit.”
Harry smiled and moved closer to her. He took her glass from her hands, placing it on the floor. “Sometimes is good to cross some lines, some limits,” he said quietly, taking her hands on his.
Hermione felt her heart beating fast against her chest.
He couldn’t possibly... Nah!
“H-Harry...” she stammered. “I-I don’t-”
To her surprise, Harry let go a small laugh. She narrowed her eyes at him, suddenly feeling very low and inexplicably sad. Was he mocking her?
“Sorry, Hermione,” he apologized as he saw her sad gaze. “I didn’t laugh at you, but at myself.” Hermione looked confused. Harry closed his eyes, sighing deeply. “Ron didn’t have an appointment with the Cannons today.” He opened his eyes once again, a slight smile playing on the corner of his lips. “I asked him to not come.”
Hermione looked astounded. “B-But w-why?” she asked weakly, unsure to how to respond.
“D-Do I have to answer that, Hermione?” Harry leaned closer, cupping her face with his hands.
“I-I-”
“I planned this so carefully. I repeated and repeated what I want, what I need to say innumerable times in front of my mirror, and now...” He began to caress her cheek gently, his fingertips running up and down her face, tracing her nose, her cheeks, and the edge of her lips.
Hermione closed her eyes at the sensation of his soft touch. He had already touched her before, but always in a friendly way. Never like this. It was so gently yet so sensual.
“Hermione...” His voice was barely audible. Her eyelids fluttered open and she felt herself being dragged into those green eyes. “I am in love with you.”
Time seemed to have stopped.
Happy and surprised tears began to fall. Yes, she had dreamed about this moment; she had that tiny hope that helped her to get out of bed every morning, but Hermione always tried to convince herself that was only in dreams or fantasies could he fancy her, let alone love her.
In her dreams she would reply that she loved him too, making a suitably poetic reply. Yet no fancy or romantic words seemed to come to mind. She was filled only happiness and - something indescribable.
Hardly noticing the expectant look on Harry’s face, Hermione buried her hands in his thick hair, pulling him close.
She kissed him hard on the lips. At first, Harry seemed surprised, but soon enough he wrapped his arms around her, returning the kiss.
It was awkward in the beginning, she couldn’t deny that - after all, there were so many years of that so called ‘platonic friendship’ between them - but it was also perfect, sweet, gently yet subtly heated.
He deepened the kiss and she opened her mouth almost instinctively, his tongue teasing her lips before gently and slowly sliding into her mouth. Hermione moaned against his mouth, letting him taste her and molding her body to his.
When they finally broke apart, in need of air, they just gazed at each other, eyes still shinning with unspoken words.
She opened her mouth- maybe a silly attempt to say something, but Harry stopped her as he claimed her lips on his again.
This time, it wasn’t so gentle or soft. It was almost desperate, as if he needed her.
She felt her heart going at an incredible rate as his hand began traveling slowly under her skirt; his fingers touching her thighs.
She moaned, against his mouth as his fingers ran up her thighs, caressing her folds; gently touching the silk fabric of her knickers. Harry broke the kiss and gazed at her, as if he was asking for permission; making sure he wasn’t presuming too much. Hermione leaned closer to him, her hands now on his shoulders, and whispered against his ear, “my Harry.”
He smiled and began to kiss her face- placing soft kisses against her skin- on her cheeks, jaw line, the nape of her neck.
In between, Hermione’s hands traveled down his arms, and then his lower back- finally searching the hem of his shirt.
Growing bold, partly due to the wine, Hermione slipped her hands inside his shirt- her fingers finally in contact against his skin.
She let go a loud sigh as she felt his hands inside her knickers, gently stroking her most intimate part.
“Oh!” she moaned. Harry kissed her neck, slowly sliding a finger inside her. “My!” she pulled him even closer to her, adjusting her hips against his hand, letting her fingernails scratching his back skin.
Hermione bent her head, giving his mouth full access at her neck, her throat- letting him kiss her collarbone; closing her eyes as the feeling of his lips against her skin.
She didn’t know how much time had passed. Nothing really matter anymore, anyway.
His finger moved inside her, first slowly then in a rapid, uneven rhythm. Hermione’s breathing was erratic, seeming almost out of control. She wondered if her heart would stop when he slid in another finger.
“Oh!” she cried louder this time, and he moved his fingers even faster against her.
When he finally pulled his fingers out of her, Harry looked up at her. Even with her eyes still closed she could feel his stare. Hermione slowly opened her eyes and looked back at him. She brought her hands to his face, cupping it. Their eyes locked, smiles mirroring each other’s.
Before she opened her mouth, Harry placed a finger on her lips, silencing her.
He leaned closer and kissed her once again.
Perhaps ‘I love you too’ didn’t need to be said.
He already knew.
The End