Needs

Needs

Hermione burrowed deeper under the blankets as the wind whipped and whistled around the tent. The thick canvas walls bowed inwards, and somewhere in the kitchen, pots and pans clanged together softly. In the brief lulls between the gusts of wind, Ron’s low, rumbling snores reverberated through the air.

Despite the din, her mind had just begun to drift in that odd moment right before falling asleep when she was abruptly dragged away from her dreams by the sudden dip of her mattress. The blankets were lifted, exposing her back to the cool night air, and then a warm weight settled behind her.

She didn’t need to look to know it was Harry.

Hermione bit her lip, and a flush bloomed on her cheeks as he pressed himself against her back and a strong arm wrapped around her waist. Already, she could feel his straining arousal digging incessantly into her bum. His hand wasted no time traveling up her stomach over her nightshirt to grasp her left breast firmly. She sucked in a sharp breath, her nipple hardening in anticipation against the palm of his hand. Unconsciously, she leaned into his warmth. Harry’s breath ghosted over her cheek as he kissed the back of her jaw. The Locket around his neck, cold and hard, pressed uncomfortably against her spine.

In the weeks they’d been on the run, he was the only one who could wear it for any length of time without going mad. Hermione had lasted a few hours under its effect before turning into an unmanageable bitch. Every little thing, even slightly out of place, enraged her to the point of drawing her wand. Ron had lasted about half that time before his uncontrollable jealousy drove him to break Harry’s nose. After that, Harry insisted on wearing it at all times.

At first, it seemed to just make him slightly more depressed and moody than he usually was – until he crawled into Hermione’s bed for the first time. There had been no words. She’d awoken from a deep sleep to find him lying on top of her, his body pinning her in place. Before she could get a word out, he started snogging the life out of her. His large, throbbing excitement mashed against her core as he bucked against her.

Despite herself, Hermione had responded eagerly. She’d rolled her hips in time with his, kissed him back just as desperately as he’d kissed her, until he eventually relieved himself in his flannel pants. Then, without a word, he was gone, leaving her confused and embarrassingly aroused.

They didn’t speak again until late the next evening while Ron was on guard duty. Harry had apologized profusely and admitted that the Locket affected him more than he let on. It fed his anger and arousal with thoughts and dreams until he’d finally reached his breaking point. Hermione could see the misery on his face clear as day. She forgave him in an instant. Her own experience with the Locket showed her just how much it could affect you without realizing it until it was too late.

But that presented a problem. The Locket had to be protected at all costs until they could destroy it. If it made its way back into Voldemort’s hands, they’d lose any hope of defeating him. She and Ron couldn’t wear it either, so she did the only thing that made logical sense. She told him to tell her the next time the feelings got too strong.

Three days later, while Ron was buying supplies in the nearest town, she was on her knees. Harry hadn’t been gentle. He’d buried his hands in her thick hair, tugging her down as he bucked his hips forward. Hermione had willingly choked and gagged until tears ran down her cheeks, and her blouse was stained with saliva. The Locket had caused him to lose all restraint, but despite the discomfort, she couldn’t deny her excitement.

She loved the unrestrained lust in his eyes as he stared down at her. She loved the unfiltered filth that spilled from his lips.

Four days after that, he took her virginity while Ron slept through the night with the aid of a Sleeping Charm, completely unaware. Again, Harry was rough and demanding, and it had been painful to start, but by the end, she was urging him on, whimpering and moaning her delight.

Since then, every few days, he came to her for release.

Hermione was drawn out of her thoughts when Harry’s hand slipped under her shirt and cupped her bare breast. The tip of his finger toyed with her hard nipple before he suddenly pinched it hard. She bit her lip and hissed softly, then reached under her pillow and grabbed her wand. With a quick wave, purple dust sprang from the tip. It floated through the air and swirled over Ron’s bed. The next time he took a deep breath, he inhaled it through his nose, sending him into an enchanted sleep.

Before she could slide the wand back under her pillow, Harry’s hand covered hers, and he took it from her unresisting fingers. With a flick, Hermione’s clothes were banished from her body. They shot out from under the blanket and landed haphazardly on the floor. She didn’t know if Harry had banished his clothes as well or if he’d climbed into her bed already naked, but she could feel his bare torso pressed against her back and his hard, hot erection burrowing between her cheeks.

Stuffing Hermione’s wand carelessly back under her pillow, Harry’s hand moved back to her breast. It fit perfectly around her modest mound. He groped it roughly, fingers plucking at her sensitive nipple. Hermione closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath when he let go and trailed his hand down her stomach. His hand slipped between her thighs, and her cheeks burned as his fingers traced her drenched folds.

She could practically feel the smirk forming on his face.

Harry pressed his weight against her back and forced her onto her stomach. Suddenly, her head dropped onto the mattress as the pillows were ripped out from under her head and stuffed under her hips. Hermione shuddered, knowing the position gave her an unrestricted view of her most intimate places.

“Merlin, I love this arse,” Harry said.

His hands mauled her bum, and she inhaled sharply when he spread her open. Never before had she been this open, this exposed, and it sent a thrill up her spine. One of his hands left, but before she could wonder what he was going to do next, it landed on her right cheek with a tremendous crack!

Hermione yelped loudly, a mixture of shock and pain. She could feel the handprint glowing red hot on her pale skin.

“I’ve wanted to do that for years,” he growled.

Until Harry had started wearing the Locket, Hermione had no idea her best friend had looked at her sexually for so long. Now, though, she knew all about the dark, deviant fantasies he’d been harboring for years. It should have angered her that he spent so long thinking of her as a sex object – dreaming of sneaking into her bed under his cloak or bending her over a table in a dark, isolated corner of the library to have his way with her – but it didn’t. It excited her. It made her wish he could go back in time and do all the things he’d ever wanted to do.

Another loud crack filled the tent, and Hermione bit her lip to stifle a scream. The burning, stinging pain on her right cheek had just faded to a forgettable level when it was duplicated on the left.

Harry spread her open and shuffled forward. A brief nudge against her entrance was her only warning before he speared into her depths.

“Oh, God!” she gasped.

Hermione clutched at the sheets, balling them in her fists as she stretched to accommodate his girth. Harry kept her spread open as he rocked his hips slowly, undoubtedly watching himself sink into her depths with rapt attention. Her cheeks burned at the humiliatingly wet, lewd sound that came from their joining.

“So fucking wet,” Harry said as he stilled. “If I knew you this much of a slut I would have taken you years ago.”

Another hard, harsh spank landed on first her right cheek and then the left. She could stop her body’s reaction, tightening and quivering around his length as she jolted from the sharp, arousing sting.

“Wish I’d known about that dark ritual we found in Grimmauld Place,” he continued between spanks. “Should’ve enslaved your beautiful arse after I saved you from that Troll.”

Smack!

Heat exploded through Hermione’s body. Her legs trembled uncontrollably as she gritted her teeth, trying and failing to hold back the embarrassing, strained groan that escaped her lips. The sudden climax ravaged her senses as Harry leaned over her, sinking deeper and making her gasp. His warm breath fluttered through the curtain of hair covering her face and ghosted over her cheek.

“But I don’t need it now, do I?”

He pulled his hips back until only the tip remained and then reversed course and sank back in. Hermione’s vision turned white as her overstimulated nerves felt like they were going to fry her brain

“Harrry,” Hermione whined.

“You’re mine now,” Harry said in a raspy growl. “Tell me, Hermione. Tell me you’re mine.”

The words flowed from her lips without thought.

“I’m yours,” she whispered.

He chuckled darkly and placed a soft, tender kiss on her cheek.

“You always have been,” he whispered back.

Suddenly, he sat up and grabbed a handful of her thick, bushy mane. Hermione’s scalp stung, and her neck arched painfully as he yanked her head back harshly. She barely had time to gasp before he started hammering in and out of her like a furious beast. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream. Through the sound of his hips slapping against her burning, stinging bum, she could hear the faint squelch that came from her core every time he invaded her core.

She groaned long and low, eyes falling closed as her body jolted and jerked under his powerful thrusts. He was completely unrestrained and unconcerned with her pleasure or comfort. Harry was simply using her body to take out all of his repressed anger and lust, and she gladly let him.

It didn’t take long for him to drive her to another thunderous climax. Hermione felt his hard, throbbing length swell against her spasming folds. She thought the end was near when he suddenly pulled out, leaving her gasping. He hooked his arm under one of her legs, and suddenly, she was thrown onto her back.

Harry crawled on top of her, his soulful green eye boring into hers as he sank back into her depths. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms and legs around him. His forehead rested against hers, their lips so close he could taste his breath. He thrust slow and deep, and her eyes fluttered closed.

“Open your eyes.”

Hermione’s eyelids flew open.

“I want you to look me in the eye when I cum in you.”

She shuddered at his demanding tone. Their eyes remained locked as he moved faster and faster. His length throbbed and swelled before it suddenly lurched, and his heat flooded her depths. Harry’s face contorted, and he groaned pleasurably. As he began to wane, he collapsed on top of her and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Hermione stroked his back soothingly even as he continued to rock his hips long after his climax had stopped.

Eventually, he stopped, and once they’d caught their breath, he rolled off of her. She followed him, resting her head on his chest and caressing his chest.

She knew what would happen next. It always did. Guilt and doubt would creep into his mind.

Catching sight of his soft but still swollen length, she trailed her hand down his stomach and caressed it lightly with the tips of her fingers. It responded with a twitch, like an eager puppy. Hermione barely stifled a giggle at the comparison.

“You don’t have to do that,” Harry said softly.

“I know.”

She continued teasing and playing with his length until it stood tall and hard. Sitting up, she straddled his waist and sank him back into her depths. Harry groaned, his hands coming up to rest on her hips. Hermione smiled, leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Make love to me,” she whispered.

He lifted his head and kissed her passionately. One hand remained on her hips while the other rose up to gently cup her breast. Hermione rolled her hips, intent on riding him long into the night.

~

Hermione blinked in disbelief.

Ron was gone.

The Locket was more powerful than she’d expected. Perhaps it was because she was burning off her stress with Harry every few nights that she hadn’t noticed until it was too late.

Ron had become jealous over a haircut, of all things, and gone into a terrible rant. The timing had been terrible. Harry hadn’t slipped into her bed the night before because it was her time of the month. They were all irritable and stressed. Easy targets for the Locket to manipulate.

A red haze descended over them as they argued. They all said things they’d come to regret, but none of them could be bothered to care in the heat of the moment. The moment Ron vanished, disappearing into the night, reality set in.

He was gone, and with the charms concealing them, there was no coming back.

Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently led her back into the tent. Guiding her over to the couch, they sat in silence for hours. Hermione eventually fell asleep with her head on his shoulder and only awoke briefly when he carried her to bed.

They waited as long as they could, hoping in vain that Ron might find his way back. After three days, they knew they couldn’t wait any longer. They packed up the tent and, hand in hand, Disapparated.

Hermione set up the protective wards while Harry worked quickly to set the tent back up.

“I’ll make us something for lunch,” she said when she’d finished.

Harry nodded and followed her inside. She didn’t make anything fancy. Just a couple of sandwiches and a can of soup.

“We need to keep searching for the Horcruxes,” Harry said between bites.

“I know,” Hermione sighed. “Do you have any idea where we should start?”

Harry shook his head, and she sighed again. The problem was, she didn’t have an idea either. Not one that wouldn’t get them killed, or worse, at any rate.

“I think we should visit Godric’s Hollow,” Harry said.

“What? Why?” Hermione asked.

He shrugged, “It’s where he lost his body. If he was going to make a Horcrux that night like Dumbledore thought, maybe it’s still there. Maybe it can give us a clue to others.”

It wasn’t a terrible assumption, but…

“It’s too dangerous,” she said, shaking her head. “You-Know-Who is bound to have someone watching for you.”

“I know, but-”

“No,” Hermione said firmly. “We’ll think of something else.”

They finished their meal in silence. Harry stood as she cleared the table, but before she could place them in the sink, she felt him behind her. His arms circled her waist, and his hard, excited length pressed against her bum.

“I need you,” he said huskily.

Closing her eyes, Hermione leaned against his chest, basking in the feeling of his strong arms around her as he kissed her neck. His hands wandered her body. One caressed her stomach while the other ran up and grasped her breasts over her jumper. The hand on her stomach slid down to the waistband of her jeans, fingers seeking the button, but she stopped him. It was still too soon.

Silently, she spun around in his arms, and, holding his gaze, she dropped to her knees.

His eyes darkened as the restraint and patience he’d shown over the last week vanished in an instant. He worked quickly to undo his trousers. The moment they hit mid-thigh, his rigid length sprang up an inch from Hermione’s face. She caught a momentary glimpse of the domed head, swollen to a deep purple, before she tasted it at the back of her tongue and gagged. His hands shot to the top of her head, tangling in her bushy locks, and a steady pressure kept her from pulling back.

Hermione forced herself to calm as he began aggressively sawing his hips back and forth. Her lips stretched wide around his girth. Saliva gathered at the corners of her mouth as his round tip battered the back of her tongue. Eventually, he broke past the barrier and tickled the back of her throat. She gagged loudly, her shoulders hunched, and her eyes watered.

Glancing up at his face, she nearly whimpered at the lustful spark the sound brought to his eyes. Merlin, how she loved seeing that look directed at her.

Grabbing Harry’s hips for leverage, she raised herself up slightly to give him a better angle. His hard, hot length stopped bashing her tongue and started sliding along it. She tried to lash it, but he moved too quickly and forcefully. His throbbing shaft shoved aside her tongue. The thick, engorged head crashed into the roof of her mouth, threatening to plunge into her throat.

Thick, frothy stands of saliva darkened the front of her red jumper. Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes and trailed down her cheeks. Her jaw grew sore, and her lips became numb. The lack of oxygen made her head feel warm and fuzzy, narrowing her world to the constant hammering between her lips.

Yet, not once did her eyes leave his face. Not once did she put up so much as an ounce of resistance. But after a week of waiting, Harry showed no interest in holding back.

Harry’s fingers curled, tightening in her hair and causing her scalp to sting. She felt his length swell and throb tellingly along her tongue. With a groan, he buried himself as deep as her inexperienced body would allow and erupted. The first shot exploded past her tongue and went straight down her unprepared throat. Hermione jerked back involuntarily, coughing to clear her airway. The second splattered her lips and tongue as she moved back. One hand left her hair and grasped his length, stroking furiously.

She closed her eyes just in time for the rest to decorate her face. Panting heavily, hot streaks splashed against her skin. When he had finished, he rested his tip against her bottom lip. Hermione swallowed him gently, lovingly cleaning him before pulling back to finish catching her breath.

Harry’s footsteps retreated to the sink, where she heard the water run for a moment. When he returned, she felt a warm, damp flannel against her cheek. He gently cleaned her face, helped her to her feet, and kissed her softly. Hermione smiled until she felt her damp jumper press uncomfortably against her skin. Glancing down, she frowned. The front was soaked with saliva and semen.

“Guess I’ll be doing laundry later today,” she sighed.

Harry chuckled as she pulled the jumper over her head and tossed it in the hamper. She felt immensely pleased when his eyes dropped to the white bra that covered her breasts.

~

Things changed from that day forward. Harry no longer slept in his bed; instead, he joined Hermione in hers.

With Ron gone, they no longer had to hide or wait for the right moment. Sex became a normal, daily occurrence, and because Harry was getting his needs seen to regularly, he no longer snapped and ravaged her. They were able to take their time to explore and experiment.

But doubts began to creep into Hermione’s mind.

She could admit now that she was in love with Harry. As much as she cared for Ron, he would always be her second choice. But did Harry feel the same way? Was he attracted to her simply because of the Locket and the fact that she was the only woman present? Would he no longer want her once they found a way to destroy it?

Mindful of the Locket’s influence, Hermione strongly suspected it was amplifying her own insecurities, but that did little to quell the voices in the back of her mind.

And that wasn’t the only thing bothering her.

She enjoyed making love to him, she really did, but she missed the nights when he would snap and use her to sate his needs. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, she began to crave it. She didn’t know if it was the influence of the Locket or not, and she really didn’t care if it was.

The thoughts plaguing her mind caused her to withdraw from Harry. He noticed something was wrong, but every time he asked, she assured him it was nothing. Just the stress, she told him.

Hermione sat on the couch with a book in her lap, but it had been half an hour since she’d last turned the page. Her thoughts kept turning inward, bringing back old fears and concerns. She was only drawn back to the present when Harry turned on the wireless, and Celestina Warbeck’s dulcet tones filled the air.

Walking over to the couch, he paused in front of her and offered his hand. Hermione stared at it curiously, then took it and let herself be pulled to her feet. Part of her expected to be pulled over to the bed, but Harry pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her waist, and swayed to the song. Smiling, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder.

As they slowly spun on the spot, she felt something hard dig into her chest. Pulling back, she looked down at the lump under Harry’s jumper. Her fingers slid under his collar, and she grabbed the silver chain around his neck.

“Hermione, I-”

“You’ve been wearing it for months,” she interrupted firmly. “You can take it off for a little while.”

Harry sighed but relented, allowing her to pull the chain over his head. Hermione carried the Locket over to her dresser and placed it carefully in a jewelry box. It was one she’d enchanted to block magic from escaping before they’d left Grimmauld Place. She’d made it in case they needed a place to hide it, before they decided it was safer if one of them wore it.

With the Locket safely sealed away, Hermione walked back over to Harry. He smiled, pulled her into his arms, and swung her around in a circle. She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. The stress of the last few months melted away as they spent several minutes spinning and twirling around the tent. Neither of them was any great shakes at dancing, but it hardly mattered. They were having fun for the first time in far too long.

Eventually, they calmed. Holding each other close, they spun slowly even as the music gave way to an advertisement for Floss Mints. Hermione felt her desires return as his hands caressed her back. Each time they neared her bum, she hoped he would grab it, maul it, and have his way with her. Now, without the influence of the Locket, she worked up the courage to ask for what she wanted.

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

“Take me like you used to.”

Hermione didn’t dare move her head from his shoulder. Her cheeks flushed, burning with embarrassment. She expected him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he spun her around and pressed her against the back of the couch. His hands unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans before he raised one, place it between her shoulder blades, and forcibly bent her over the back of the couch. He pushed so hard that her feet left the ground, allowing him to easily tear her jeans down her legs.

Harry paused, and she was about to ask why when his thumb ran over the very damp gusset of her red knickers.

“You’re wet.”

His raspy growl sent a shiver up her spine. Grabbing the waistband of her knickers, he ripped them down her legs. Hermione’s eyes closed as she heard the sound of her belt being undone. She waited in anticipation while a droop of arousal trailed down her thigh.

There was no warning before Harry abruptly speared into her depths. She cried out in shock as she was stretched and filled by the sudden invasion. There was no build, either. He clutched her shoulder, pulling her back into his steady, savage thrusts.

“Oh, God!” Hermione exclaimed.

The sound of his bare thighs colliding with her bum flipped the tent. With each hammering thrust, her hips were mashed painfully against the wooden frame of the couch. The thin covering at the back did little to cushion the impact. Hermione closed her eyes as the slight pain mixed with the incredible pleasure. In moments, she moaned long and low as a powerful climax wracked her body.

It had barely ended when Harry pulled out of her and jerked her upright by the back of her jumper. Spinning her around, he kissed her hard and demanding. His hands grasped her bum, lifting her off of her feet, and carried her in three long strides over to their bed. He tossed her onto the mattress, and before she could settle, he yanked her jumper over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her bra joined it a moment later.

Hermione sat back as Harry quickly stripped out of his clothes and climbed up onto the bed. He hooked the back of her knees and spread her legs wide, pinning them to the mattress. The tendons on the inside of her thighs burned, but that was driven from her mind when he speared into her depths. She groaned as she watched her tight petals stretch around his girth. As he pulled back, her lips clung to his shaft, unwilling to let it go.

He slammed his hips forward, and she threw her head back with a groan.

“Is this what you wanted?” Harry growled.

“Yes,” Hermione whispered breathlessly.

Smiling, he draped his body over hers and started thrusting hard and fast. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, digging her nails into his skin. Harry huffed and puffed as he hammered into her furiously. Each thrust mashed her into the mattress. His body so dwarfed hers that she felt completely helpless beneath him. He was using her selfishly, concerned only with his own pleasure, and the thought of that sent her spiraling toward another climax.

Harry pushed himself up on his arms, staring down at her as she began to moan.

“Are you going to cum again?” he smirked. “Such a slut.”

Hermione groaned, eyes closing as he supported his weight on one arm and grasped her breast. Taking the nipple between his fingers, he pinched and twisted it harshly. She gasped, arching her back. A powerful climax exploded through her body a moment before a hand clamped around her neck. Her eyes widened in shock as she failed to draw in a breath, but her momentary panic faded the moment she met Harry’s eyes.

Her climax built and built, the lack of oxygen pushing her to new heights. She squirmed and writhed under him, clenched fistfuls of the sheets hard enough to tear them. Harry continued his relentless, animalistic thrusts while watching her face closely. Just as the edges of her vision began to darken, he relaxed his grip, and Hermione sucked in a harsh, desperate gasp. Her climax continued far longer than it usually did as he erupted inside of her. By the time he finished, she had collapsed, exhausted and breathless.

Eventually, Harry rolled off of her, and she followed him, curling up against his side. A moment later, he pulled the blanket up over their bodies. They lay like that for a while. Hermione started drawing random patterns on his chest with her fingertips as they basked in the afterglow.

“I wish we could stay like this,” she said softly. “We could just forget about the war and live in the words for the rest of our lives, just the two of us.”

“That’s a tempting thought,” Harry smiled.

“What about Ginny?” Hermione asked, biting her lip nervously.

He stroked her back soothingly.

“Ginny… was an escape,” he explained slowly. “I could pretend I was normal with her, but…”

“But, you’re not normal,” she finished.

Although she couldn’t see it, she could feel him nodding.

“What about Ron?” he asked.

“Ron was a mistake,” Hermione admitted. “I wanted him because I thought I was supposed to. If someone had shown any interest in me whatsoever, I never would have given him a second glance.”

“Sorry,” Harry muttered with a smile. “But to be fair, you never showed an interest in me, either.”

“I didn’t want to screw anything up,” she whispered. “You needed me.”

“I’ll always need you.”

He kissed the top of her head and held her close. Hermione smiled brightly.

“Then it’s a good thing you’ll always have me.”