Together We're Harmony Chapter 6. (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Shower Shenanigans.

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Nothing and everything, all at the same time,” Harry whispered, shifting to a more comfortable position in the tub. No matter what they did before it, this was always his favorite part of the night. It reminded him of simpler times spent with his girlfriend in the large bath of the Prefect's bathroom, before Dumbledore’s death, before the Battle of Hogwarts, before… everything.

“That’s a lot of things to think about Mr. Potter.” He felt her head shift, moving closer to his heartbeat, and he could imagine her eyes closing as she concentrated on the steady thud of his heart.

He was supposed to be bathing her, helping her cleanse herself of their earlier activities, but for now, he was simply content to hold her. A small, selfish part of him wanted her to remain like she was, marked by him from head to toe. He ignored the voice in his head, wrapping his arms around her slender torso as he dipped into the larger-than-normal bath, submerging himself and her in the warm water. The bath (and the rest of their bedroom) had been designed in remodeled in such a way to allow both of them to participate in any activity together with ease, and he considered them to be his proudest achievements to date.

She gasped as they emerged from the water, but made no effort to move away from his position on his chest, more than used to his sudden actions to panic.

“You did say you wanted to experiment with breathplay,” Harry teased, slowly running his fingers through her damp hair, untangling it with his fingers as best he could.

“Mhm. I much prefer your hand to water daddy,” Hermione whispered, still evidently floating in subspace and seemingly having no desire to leave. “Do you want to talk to me about anything?” she asked softly, tracing imaginary patterns on his chest. One, he could have sworn was an owl, but his mind chose to focus more on the pleasure the slight pressure of her finger brought than the actual shapes themselves.

“It’s not the right place or time to talk about what I’m thinking.”

“When have we ever done things at the right place or time sir?” Came the soft rebuttal. “Our first kiss. The first time we had sex. My first spanking. None of those were at times or places one might call terribly romantic.”

“Don’t remind me of our first spanking. You were laughing the entire time.” Harry groaned.

“I tried my best not to! I couldn’t help it, you were patting my bum and calling them spanks!”

“I-” Harry gave up. They’d take a trip down memory lane some other day. He shifted, moving up the wall of the bath till the girl had moved to sit down in his lap, allowing his hands easier access to her hair and scalp. He reached out to grab the bottle of shampoo from the edge of the tub, squirting some into his hands. “I was thinking about marriage. A passing thought, really.”

“Us?”

“Bill and Fleur, initially.”

“It was a beautiful ceremony. I’m glad they decided to renew their vows.”

“I was just glad nobody interrupted it this time around,” Harry said, gently massaging the shampoo in her scalp. “Thinking about them somehow led to me fantasizing about our ceremony and married life with you.”

He fell silent after the admission, not sure how she’d take it. They hadn’t really talked about marriage, children or even a future together. Before the war, they’d been singularly focused on surviving. After… there’d been too many funerals, too many pieces to pick up. They themselves had been shattered, and it had taken them nearly a year to simply return to some sense of normalcy.

“Yes,” Hermione turned to look at him with an impish smile. It never failed to surprise him, the ease with which she could slip in and out of subspace. She’d once told him it was becoming a part of her now, and he was beginning to believe it.

“Yes?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I like the sound of Hermione Granger-Potter.” She shrugged, turning back around to allow him to continue washing her hair.

“I didn’t ask you a question,” he said, amused.

“And knowing you, you never would have. Now, you don’t need to.” Hermione shrugged again, and though he couldn’t see it, he knew she had a huge smirk on her face.

“You’re being unbelievably bratty for someone who was just punished Miss Granger,” he whispered, his free hand snaking around her body. He smiled as his fingers pinched a still sore nipple, the girl letting loose a strangled groan.

“Are you going to send your wife to bed with a sore bum Mr. Poter?” Hermione whispered, wiggling her butt against his crotch. Insatiable. But then, they both were. Intimacy was their anchor, their vehicle for healing.

As long as we have each other, everything is going to be alright.

“You’re not my wife yet, Miss Granger.”

“We could rectify that. We SHOULD rectify that,” Hermione whispered, dipping down in the water to wash her hair. She turned underwater, gripping his thighs with her hands, her lips closing around his semi-erect shaft for but a second. She withdrew, pulling herself up, her warm brown eyes locking with his green ones.

“How exactly do you plan to rectify that?” Harry asked in a strangled groan as her hand wrapped around his cock, coaxing it back to life with a few quick pumps.

“I know a priest,” Hermione said conversationally, as if they were having one of their normal dinner table conversations. The playful goddess that was hidden deep within her had evidently awoken, and wanted to play. Not that he was complaining, after all, he had spent half the night coaxing her out. She kept her eyes locked with his as she guided him inside her, her hands moving to grip his shoulders for support as she lowered herself on him.

“You have all the answers, don’t you?” he asked, his hands moving to grasp her wasit, only to be gently pushed away.

“Nu-uh. Let your good little student earn her ‘O’ Professor Potter.”

“I’ll need a ring,” he breathed, leaning back against the tub, his hands gripping its edges.

“And a collar,” Hermione whispered, leaning into him. Her lips closed around an earlobe, drawing it in her mouth and sucking on it as she pushed herself up, only to sink back down with a quiet groan. Her right hand stayed on his shoulder, but her left travelled down to her clit, slowly massaging the now over-sensitive nub as she slowly rocked up and down on his shaft.

“Are you trying to seduce me into marriage Miss Granger?”

“Is it working Mr. Potter?” she asked once she withdrew. He could only nod as she picked up the pace, moving as fast as their positions would allow.

“Good,” she whispered, her own breathing growing ragged with arousal and exertion. She returned her lips to his neck, slowly kissing down to his shoulder, worshipping every inch of her lover’s body even as she teased his seed out of him.

How does everytime with her feel like the very first time?

The excitement and sheer giddiness of their actions never seemed to diminish. He hoped it never would.

He could feel her struggle against the haze of her arousal, trying to keep up the pace she had set. His hands moved from their position, gripping her waist, fingers digging in her soft flesh hard enough to leave marks come morning.

“Together,” he whispered, turning to kiss her as he aided her efforts. Their lips met, and he pulled her up till only his tip was in her, before pulling her back down as hard as he could. She moaned into his lips as she was impaled, and he kept up the bruising pace, every subsequent impaling eliciting a louder and more desperate moan. She was close, her moans and the frenzied desperation of her fingers said as much to him. Time and again she raised herself, only to be pulled back down and impaled on his shaft.

“Hermione,” he muttered, the muscles in his abdomen tightening at his own fast approaching orgasm, “Potter,” he continued, pushing the quivering girl back down on his cock, “Granger,” he groaned as her walls spasmed around him and she cried out, burying her face in the crook of his neck as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm. “Will you marry me?” he asked, bringing her down one last time, the tightness of her walls too much for him to bear.

She milked him of his seed even as they held each other in the bath, panting and gasping through their combined orgasms.

“Yes,” she whispered after what felt like eternity, tiredly moving to kiss him. The night’s activities had finally sapped her strength, he realised, and she was well and truly ready for bed. “My answer will always be yes.”

He let her lie against his chest as he recovered his own strength, and more importantly, his will to move. For he could have stayed the way the were forever, but the water was going cold and their warm, comfortable bed beckoned. He finally picked up the bottle of conditioner from the edge of the bath, quickly finishing shampooing her hair before he started to work on both their bodies, washing away the evidence of their amorous activities.

She yawned as he helped her out of the bath, sleepily rubbing her eyes as she waited for her lover to join her. Join her he did after uncorking the drain to empty the tub, dripping water on the magically warmed marble of the bathroom floor as he walked to the towel rack, grabbing one for both of them.

“Mrs. Weasley won’t like us eloping,” he said as he handed her the towel. He quickly patted himself dry before wrapping the towel around his waist.

“We can have two weddings. The first, special one, just for us. And then another big one, for everyone else. I doubt Mrs. Weasley would like you collaring me at our wedding either, sir.” She pointed out, wrapping her hair in the towel before taking his hand and letting him lead her out of the bathroom.

He led her to the ottoman in front of their vanity for the last part of their nightly ritual, pulling the stool to sit behind her once he’d grabbed her hairbrush. She pulled her hair free of the towel, letting the damp brown curls cascade down her back. He studied her naked body in the mirror as he began to brush her hair.

Not a single flaw. My fiancee is perfection.

The very thought of calling her that made him giddy with excitement.

“Do you really know a priest?”

“Mhm. He was a friend of my… father’s,” she finished quietly, the wave of happiness she had been riding all night evaporating. The guilt was evident on her face.

“We’ll find them. We’ll get them back.”

“I don’t know how,” she said, and his heart broke at how despondent she sounded. For her not to have an answer to something, especially something this important had to be maddening. That, combined with the guilt was eating her alive. He could see it from the sudden sorrow on her face.

“We’ll figure it out.” It would be his wedding gift to her. After everything she had been through, she did not deserve to spend her life wondering what became of her parents. And they, they deserved a chance to be reunited with their only daughter.

“Together?” she asked softly, leaning back into his touch.

“Together.”