About Harry

Hermione

I wake up in the morning and I still can't believe what has passed tonight. It resembles so much one of my daydreams that I struggle to believe it real. But it is real. Miraculously, unbelievably and joyously, it is real. A smile is on my face when I regain consciousness from my sleep. Harry's arms are wrapped tightly around me, our nakedness confirming everything without any other possible interpretation.

I open my eyes slowly savouring the moment and I'm already relishing in the cuddles I hope to get, the tenderness. I wonder what is going to happen now.

Many daydreams pop in my mind in bright flashes.

Flashes of uncommon foolishness. Because as soon as I'm awake enough, I sense that something is wrong or not as it should be.

His arms are wrapped around me, it is true. But it is not a soft embrace. He is keeping hold of me a bit too tightly, his muscles are a bit too stiff, he is a bit too tense.

And as I, more and more, regain my wits and drowsiness abandon me completely, I understand what's happening. He is far from being in the same good mood as I am, he is simply trying not to break down, that's why he is so tense. I can almost feel him quivering with the effort.

I call his name softly, but he doesn't answer. I let him hold me then, hoping that it will be of any help but, after a few minutes, sensing his distress unabating, I free myself from his arms and it's me that is embracing him. I envelop him, I let him crouch close against me, his head on my breast, I kiss it and I lull him, I smooth his abundant hair.

By degree his body loosen up, his muscles relax under my restless caresses. The pain is undiminished, however. It's all still there.

'What can I do for you? How can I help you?' I whisper to him.

He doesn't answer at first but then he does. And it's an answer I would have preferred not to hear.

'I just want it over' he says.

While warm tears are gushing out of me as a cascade, I cannot find the strength to answer.

This is not exactly the sentence one would like to hear after having made love with the cherished one nor the sensation one would like to instil.

Therefore, I cry. I cannot do anything else.