Mountains [Harry Potter Fic]
Apr. 25th, 2011 06:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blackestfaeryJust because I'm taking a break from Draco/Hermione does not mean I'm going to stop writing. Nope. I said I'd do it someday and here it is—my first Harry/Hermione :)
Mountains
Series: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Hermione, implied Ron/Hermione
Rating: G
Word Count: 506
Summary:
Vroom vroom!
He makes the sound effect under his breath, his cheeks flaring out as he plays. The Muggle toy, brightly painted and not unlike the fabled flying car that has made its home in the Forbidden Forest, looks small and delicate between his fingers. The miniature toy car has working doors and can propel itself when pulled back far enough to wind the internal gears. If she looks closely through the plastic windshield, there is even a miniature couple sitting in the front seats.
The car tickles her stomach as he pushes it up from her right hip. She guesses he is attempting to imitate a vehicle of limited horsepower struggling up a hill as realistically as possible.
“You are cruel, Harry Potter,” she declares, although the slap on his wrist is hardly forceful. She shifts, tugging the hem of her cotton shirt as far down as possible. It instantly springs back up when she lets go, exposing a tiny sliver of her skin.
The car pauses; stalls, maybe.
“It’s an older car, Hermione,” he replies, shrugging. “Older cars find it harder to drive up a mountain.”
He resumes pushing his toy up the pronounced curve of her stomach, his sounds growing quieter as he reaches the summit—her previously innie, now proudly outie, belly button.
“So I’m a mountain now, am I?” Hermione huffs out a breath, trying to dislodge the toy, but Harry catches it before it has any chance of falling on the floor. He places it carefully back on her stomach, wiggling it back and forth with his index finger.
“Only in the right places,” he whispers. He abandons the car and moves his head closer to her side. Hermione watches from where she lays on the couch, propped up with pillows, as he presses his ear against her. Her heart stutters at the look of wonder on his face, and she just manages to hear his quietly-mumbled incredible.
Before she knows it, her hand is lifting and settling on his head. It is muscle memory to attempt to arrange his hair into some sort of lesser state of disarray, but it is no surprise when her efforts are about as effective as her previous attempts to keep her shirt over her tummy.
His sigh heats more than her side.
“You’re going to be a great mum, Hermione.”
And more than anything, she wants to reply and you’ll be a great dad.
But the ring winking up at her is from another man, their mutual best friend, and it is years past the point where she can say these things—these things she has wished for, dreamt about—aloud. Years past the point where she should have laced her fingers with his and tugged back and said not her, Harry. Me.
So she says the only thing she can say that will not ruin any of their lives.
“Thanks, Harry.”
Her hand is still in his hair and his ear is still pressed against her.
And it has to be enough.
And here's to many more. Much love to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
teenage_hustler for the quick beta ♥
x-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
harryhermione
Mountains
Series: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Hermione, implied Ron/Hermione
Rating: G
Word Count: 506
Summary:
Vroom vroom!
He makes the sound effect under his breath, his cheeks flaring out as he plays. The Muggle toy, brightly painted and not unlike the fabled flying car that has made its home in the Forbidden Forest, looks small and delicate between his fingers. The miniature toy car has working doors and can propel itself when pulled back far enough to wind the internal gears. If she looks closely through the plastic windshield, there is even a miniature couple sitting in the front seats.
The car tickles her stomach as he pushes it up from her right hip. She guesses he is attempting to imitate a vehicle of limited horsepower struggling up a hill as realistically as possible.
“You are cruel, Harry Potter,” she declares, although the slap on his wrist is hardly forceful. She shifts, tugging the hem of her cotton shirt as far down as possible. It instantly springs back up when she lets go, exposing a tiny sliver of her skin.
The car pauses; stalls, maybe.
“It’s an older car, Hermione,” he replies, shrugging. “Older cars find it harder to drive up a mountain.”
He resumes pushing his toy up the pronounced curve of her stomach, his sounds growing quieter as he reaches the summit—her previously innie, now proudly outie, belly button.
“So I’m a mountain now, am I?” Hermione huffs out a breath, trying to dislodge the toy, but Harry catches it before it has any chance of falling on the floor. He places it carefully back on her stomach, wiggling it back and forth with his index finger.
“Only in the right places,” he whispers. He abandons the car and moves his head closer to her side. Hermione watches from where she lays on the couch, propped up with pillows, as he presses his ear against her. Her heart stutters at the look of wonder on his face, and she just manages to hear his quietly-mumbled incredible.
Before she knows it, her hand is lifting and settling on his head. It is muscle memory to attempt to arrange his hair into some sort of lesser state of disarray, but it is no surprise when her efforts are about as effective as her previous attempts to keep her shirt over her tummy.
His sigh heats more than her side.
“You’re going to be a great mum, Hermione.”
And more than anything, she wants to reply and you’ll be a great dad.
But the ring winking up at her is from another man, their mutual best friend, and it is years past the point where she can say these things—these things she has wished for, dreamt about—aloud. Years past the point where she should have laced her fingers with his and tugged back and said not her, Harry. Me.
So she says the only thing she can say that will not ruin any of their lives.
“Thanks, Harry.”
Her hand is still in his hair and his ear is still pressed against her.
And it has to be enough.
And here's to many more. Much love to
teenage_hustler for the quick beta ♥x-posted to
harryhermione
no subject
Date: 2011-04-26 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-26 01:29 am (UTC)There's gonna be more. I can promise you that!
no subject
Date: 2011-04-26 05:06 am (UTC)I am looking forward to more HHr from you. <3