"You didn't have to give me anything, Harry," Hermione said when he
finished.
He shook his head and reached into his pocket, pulling out and
unshrinking his bag of gold, he reached inside and pulled out the key
he had been given as he was leaving.
"It's your vault key and your money," Harry said pressing it into her
hand, "I have the Lestrange Vaults too now, I have more money than
could be spent in a lifetime or seven."
She accepted and asked, "What are you going to say to the public?"
"Nothing."
"Harry," she chided.
"I had another idea. How much do you know about the stock market
crashes in the muggle history?"
She gave him a searching look, "Enough to know what you think is
going to happen to the wizarding economy."
"You think you could write an article about it?"
"You want me to write an article for the Daily Prophet?"
"No, I was thinking the Quibbler, you're as famous as I am now and
people will read anything by you that is published. You can critic the
wizarding world without having to be filtered and if you could sneak
in the thing about our vaults and the goblins then I don't have to give
a speech."
"Your last speech was very good, Harry."
"It isn't my job. I am not a politician. I'll speak out about injustice but it
is not my responsibility to fix everything in this damned community."
"You really hate the attention don't you?"
Harry shrugged, "In the muggle world I have to hide Teddy's abilities,
my powers, and I can't fly on a broom whenever I like, but I hate the
drama in our world. These old grudges that make no logical sense.
What does it matter what our blood is? We are all born to magic,
that's all that should matter."
Hermione smiled at him, "You're a great guy, you know that?"
Harry frowned at her, "Are you laughing at me?"
"Only a wee bit," she teased.
"Will you write the article?"
"Of course, and unlike you, I was thinking of going into politics."
Harry laughed, "They aren't going to know what hit them."
They chatted for a while longer about her discovers and Teddy.
When it was time to go Harry said his farewells, but Hermione
caught his hand as he turned to leave.
"There is something else that's bothering you, that you aren't telling
me," she accused.
"You're too smart, you know that?"
"Just tell me."
He hesitated but he couldn't not answer the expectant look in her
eyes. "It's Andromeda."
"Is she alright?"
"Yes," he said and added nothing more.
"Come on, Harry, you can tell me."
Harry took in a deep breath then let out in a rush, "I think I like
Andromeda."
Hermione blinked at him for a moment, opened her mouth then
closed it before finally saying, "You mean like like?"
Harry stepped back, "See, I shouldn't have told you."
"No, Harry wait."
He waited, shifting from foot to foot.
"Do you love her?" Hermione asked.
"Yes," Harry said before he could filter himself.
Hermione raised a brow, "Does she-"
"I don't know, Hermione," Harry said running a hand nervously
through his hair, "these aren't exactly normal circumstances and we
live together and- and there are too many and's and but's."
"But you do love her?"
"Yes," Harry said, "I know that at least."
"Love her like in a family way or you love who she is and want
something more?"
Harry looked away from her, staring out a window he had stared out
a thousand times before in time that seemed a thousand years away,
"I think I want a lot more."
Hermione was silent for a long moment. "Has she come onto you at
all?"
Harry closed his eyes and took in another deep breath, "I don't
know."
She laughed, "How can you not know?"
"It's complicated," Harry said a little sheepishly.
She snorted, "Merlin forbid it ever be simple with you."
"I think the fabric of the universe would shred if normal was ever
applied to my life. Listen, I really do need to get back. Thank you for
your help." He bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek before
turning to go.
She caught his wrist again, "Whatever you do, Harry, don't regret it.
You are happier than I've ever seen you and I'll support anything and
anyone who keeps that light in your eyes."
He hugged her, "One day Hermione, you will outshine us all."
Two weeks passed. Two weeks in which a sneezing and sullen
Teddy moped around the house. But he was recovered fully by the
next full moon. Harry and Andromeda played cards in the basement
and bounced tennis balls off the cement walls. Teddy sprinting and
leaping for them, delighting in his recovered strength.
The next night, Teddy went to bed early and Harry was cleaning up
his failed attempt at baking cheesecake. He had meddled with the
recipe a bit too much for the cake to rise properly.
Andromeda was sitting at the counter reading a book -or at least she
had been, she had stopped to watch him move around the kitchen.
Harry noticed her attention but went about his business. If he were
more sure of her, he would have flirted, but he was scared of ruining
the relationship they did have for the chance at a more intense one.
Some was better than none, or at least that's what he told himself as
he washed the pan.
"You know you can do that with magic?" Andromeda pointed out.
Harry nodded but didn't turn to face her. "I know but I have nothing
else to do tonight, or at least I am not in the mood for reading or
practicing. Washing dishes doesn't require mental exertion."
"Hmmm," she said.
The silence grew between them, it became uncomfortable once he
turned off the tap. He reached for the towel and began to put each
dish into its rightful place in the cupboards.
He didn't know why his heart was racing, why tonight, things felt…
different.
When Harry finished the dishes, he was forced to look back at
Andromeda.
Her chocolate brown eyes were still watching him, watching him like
a hawk eyeing its prey.
And damn him, if he didn't think it was sexy as hell. But then, that's
what Andromeda was, beneath all the beauty and civility, she was a
sharpened blade, something that could just as easily shield you or
slice your head off. A sword that in all its practicality and potential
remained lovely to behold.
"How's the book?" Harry asked, motioning to the forgotten book in
front of her.
Not even for an instant, did her eyes shift from his. "I want to go back
to teaching dance."
"Uh," Harry said, the conversation shifting too quickly for him. "Of
course, I mean, you don't need my permission. Are you going to
commute back to the muggle dance studio?"
"I wasn't asking. I already bought a loft above one the shops to use
as my own studio," she said, her words seemed oddly hollow. As if
her thoughts had nothing to do with the words coming out of her
mouth.
"Awesome," Harry said awkwardly, not understanding what she
wanted from him. "You will not have to worry about Teddy."
"I know."
"Good," he said, leaning against the sink behind him for some kind of
support.
"Would you like to learn how to dance?" she asked suddenly.
Harry grinned, "I know how to dance."
She stood and held out her hand, "Then show me."
Standing tall, he stalked to her. He had about had it with her signals,
she either needed to plant him in the just friends/son-in-law zone or
state what she wanted.
It felt like she was testing him. If this was test then he would sooner
raise Voldemort from the grave himself than fail it.
She turned on music and kept the volume at a low level. But even at
nearly inaudible volume, the music was dramatic and offered itself to
rather dramatic waltz steps. Which Harry delivered.
For the most part, he led, but she was by far the better dancer and
she initiated the spins, swirls, and dips. Harry was athletic enough to
keep up and with each step sequence, their dancing became more
refined. "You're a quick learner, Mr. Potter," she said, breathless with
exhilaration. "Would you like to try a lift?"
He nodded yes, and she adjusted his hands lower on her waist and
placed her own around his neck.
She paused her garnet eyes staring into his emerald ones.
"Now what?" He asked, their steps slowing. There was a light dew of
sweat on both their brows.
The music played on but they stood still. She directed him forwards
and didn't answer with words.
Harry closed his eyes. When her lips met his, he thought he might be
dreaming. She tasted of lemon and raspberry tea, and she felt as if
she had always belonged in his arms. His hands traveled upward,
feeling the contours of her muscles and kissing her with abandon.
He wanted her naked, he wanted to forgo breathing so that this kiss
would never end. She molded herself against his front, hard enough
that there was no possible way for her to be unaware of his need.
She broke the kiss and whatever she saw on his face must have
cleared her doubts because the only thing that came out of her
mouth was a moan, " Harry. "
Harry found himself wonderfully, gleefully at her mercy.
She led, almost shoved him towards her bedroom.
He had just enough brain cells left to cast a one way silencing charm
on the room before he tossed his wand on the chair beside the bed.
He found himself pushed back on that bed. Her warm weight
followed him down. Her kisses were hot and addictive. He groaned
when he felt her hands open his robes and explore the bare skin of
his torso and chest.
When all the clothes were off -their hands roaming, unchecked and
starving for the touch of the other's skin, Harry managed to find
words.
"You are so beautiful," he said as she took him, dancing above him.
There were no more words after that, or at least not any that weren't
already being thoroughly expressed in other more explicit ways.
Andromeda curled around Harry's naked body under the sheets.
Harry had one arm resting along hers, a hand on her shoulder blade
while the other played idly with her hair.
There was a contented silence between them, filled only by the soft
sounds of their breathing and their beating hearts.
Almost an hour later, unable to drift into a sleep as her conscious
poked at her, she asked, "That wasn't your first time." There was a lilt
to the statement, making it into a half question. But in all honesty,
she knew that no man that good in bed was a virgin. She knew it but
still…
Harry chuckled, "No, this wasn't my first time. You haven't
deflowered me, Andromeda."
She curled herself a little lower on his body, a leg going around his,
so that when she looked up she could see his face. "Can I ask who
your first was?"
Harry's face went serious.
She back peddled, "Harry you don-"
He grinned, "Just messing with you. My first was Hermione
Granger."
Andromeda felt a wash of guilt encompass her. Harry should be with
a woman of his own age. This between them was-
"I am so glad you didn't cry," Harry said suddenly.
This distracted Andromeda from her inner monologue. "I'm sorry,
what?" she asked before saying, "Harry, I am not virginal, I had a
baby, I assure you that intercourse with you was not painful, even
considering your size."
Harry flushed, which brought a gentle smile to her lips. But Merlin, if
the man wasn't beautiful, world wary and yet innocent to the small
joys that life had to offer.
"I meant crying over another," Harry said. "My first kiss was with Cho
Chang, who cried the entire time because of her previous boyfriend,
Cedric Diggory. Hermione cried afterward because of Ron, her
parents, the war, and- well she had a lot of reasons for her tears."
Andromeda frowned, "Surely the afterglow isn't the time for tears."
"One would think," he said, "Not that I blame her." He rubbed a hand
across Andromeda's back. "But it's just nice not to feel used."
Not feeling up to talking about her own past, Andromeda said, "Was
it just the one time with Hermione?"
Harry laughed, "Merlin no, we were in a tent alone in the woods for
months. And I can't say we didn't get better with practice." He looked
far away for a moment.
"I hear a but coming," Andromeda said.
His emerald green eyes met hers and he smiled, "Hermione is
beautiful, talented, and I really like her as a person-"
"But?"
"But we are too close. We gave each other pleasure physically and
we like each other mentally but we don't burn for each other. It
wasn't quite the grossness of sleeping with a sibling. But when I see
her naked, I want to get her a robe so she isn't cold more than I want
to taste her skin.
"Hermione and I didn't break up, we just mutually agreed that we
weren't that in each other's lives. Ron Weasley isn't enough for her,
yet she still felt more for him in a romantic sense than she did for
me."
"You don't sound jealous," Andromeda noted.
"I'm not. Hermione never belonged to me, what passed between us
was a mixture of exploration, teenage hormones, boredom, and
mutual respect. We didn't exchange hearts, we never made
promises, it happened, it ended, and we moved on."
Andromeda shook her head, "You realize most people don't stay
friends after sex, right?"
Harry shrugged, his shoulder pressing against the pillows, "The fact
that we valued each other more as friends than as lovers is why
nothing sexual continued between us. And quite frankly, in the
greater perspective of my life, exploring my needs with a close friend
and then staying friends is a lot less strange than other things I've
done."
"Like fucking the grandmother of your godson, who just happens to
be twenty-four years older than you?" she asked, her doubts finally
voicing themselves. She wasn't sure what she expected him to say
or do, but rolling them over and kissing every coherent thought from
her mind wasn't it.
His kisses were rich, exploring, demanding, tender brushes of lips
and tongues. She fell into him without heed and when he finally
parted from her, her breathing was ragged and her pulse was
thunderous.
"Andromeda," Harry said, his own breathing a bit rough. He got on
all fours above her so that cool air drafted in between them, making
her shiver. "What's started between us, I don't want it to ever end."
She took in a deep, shaking breath, "You said you don't like to be
used."
Harry's emerald green eyes darkened, "If I left you today, if I were
gone tomorrow, you would be alright."
Panic stole her breath away, a sensation like a million fire ants
started at her toes to the base of her spine.
Harry bent forward, he pressed his forehead to hers, the rim of his
glasses sliding down to bump against the bridge of her nose. "I'm not
leaving, Andromeda, I promise, there is no force in this world that
could separate me from Teddy, but if I did leave, you would manage.
Andromeda Tonks née Black, you don't need me."
"I want you," her voice came strained, almost angry. But she wasn't
angry, she was afraid. Afraid he might leave, afraid she had made a
terrible, terrible mistake in taking him to her bed.
Harry lowered himself so that their naked fronts pressed against one
another, his returning warmth feeling like a balm to her fractured
nerves and abused morals.
He spoke the next against the side of her neck, "If I believed you
wanted me just for my body or to keep me in your house, I wouldn't
be here."
Her fingers found the back of his neck, tangled in his wild yet
strangely soft hair. "I want all of you, Harry, every last bit of you."
Even if it's wrong, she added in her mind.
He seemed to hear her or understand her unspoken words all the
same and moved his lips back to hers. "Then take me," he
murmured, his breath mingling with hers.
"People will not accept this eas-"
He kissed her again.
It was all she could do not to moan as her body arched up to him.
Against her lower abdomen, she felt just how much he wanted to be
here.
This time when he pulled away his own composure was holding on
by tenterhooks, "Without me said people would be enslaved or
worse. Let them talk, let their rumours grow, I don't care. All I know is
that you are who I want and this life we have-
"This is my home and I love you."
Andromeda let the doors to heart open then, let him see and have all
the broken and beating parts of her. "I love you too," she said it and
meant with all that she was.
They kissed and there was no more talking to halt their passion.
Andromeda thought to herself that if she had already spoiled the
peach by taking a bite than she might as well finish what she had
started. Besides, Harry Potter was simply too sweet to pass up.
Designated to: Good fathers who understand that there is more than
one kind of strength and to women, whose value and individuality is
not defined by her age or number of eggs in her ovaries. Gender
equality is not saying we are all the same, it's acknowledging that we
are all deserving and capable of strength and emotions.