Her Bound Heart Chapter 17. (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Bratty! Hermione, Toys, Cum Play, Teasing, Breast Play, Cowgirl.

Hermione woke up to Harry’s cock inside her. She had felt the mattress creak next to her but had simply shifted onto her belly and buried her face in the soft pillow.

Harry liked to have an early start to his days. That didn’t mean she had to do the same, especially if it was before seven. His rules said she had to get her ass out of their warm, cozy bed at seven and she had no intention of leaving it a minute before that. So she didn’t do anything until she felt strong hands pulling her thighs apart but by then it was too late to do anything except moan and squirm as her ‘husband’ claimed her sore pussy.

“Good morning,” she whispered sleepily, turning in his arms and leaning up to kiss his bare chest.

“Good morning,” Harry whispered back.

He was holding back. Something was bothering him, she could feel it through her tattoo and the fact that she wasn’t on her way to orgasmic heaven. He wasn’t even fully inside her, having stopped halfway through and hesitant to go any further.

“If you don’t use your cockwarmer as per instructions you void the warranty, sir. Break her and you’ll have to get a new one,” Hermione teased, playfully wiggling her hips. Her firm cheeks clapped together, the gentle smack of skin slapping against skin filling the silent room. A disappointed groan escaped her lips as Harry pulled out of her and rolled to the side.

“Will I have to?” he asked in a low, barely audible voice. “Will I have to get a new one?”

Hermione frowned, turned, and propped herself up on her elbows. Her heart sank at the utter pain in his voice and expression, and the panic she could feel through their bond.

“I was just teasing you, sir,” she whispered. She climbed into his lap but he didn’t move to wrap his arms around her waist or do anything at all. He stayed frozen in place but she didn’t let that deter her. She gently cupped his cheeks and forced him to look at her. “If this is about last night-”

“It’s okay if you don’t love me. I don’t expect you to. It was wrong of me to force feelings into our equation and I can understand if you want to terminate-”

“Gods, you’re so dense,” Hermione said, fondly running a hand through his messy black hair. “My adorable and extremely lethal boyfriend can’t pick up on the most blatant of hints.”

“Hermione-”

“You can whip me, paddle me, punish me how you like for my sass, Harry, but that’s the truth,” Hermione said with a giggle. She used her hands to turn his face towards the discarded wedding dress on the floor. “I put on a wedding dress for you. I don’t see how much more obvious I can get about how I truly feel.”

“Last night, when I told you that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you-”

“I would have said it back but…” Hermione paused and playfully traced the lines of the firm muscles of his chest with her slender fingers.

“But, what?”

“Well, my sugar daddy has a bad habit of literally fucking me speechless.”

Harry couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. His laughter brought a smile to her lips and she leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder, happily wrapping her arms around his broad frame.

“I don’t think I want to be that anymore.”

“Be what, darling?”

“Your sugar daddy. I mean I’ll still support you… I’ll always support you. But I don’t want that to be our relationship. You’re a horrible sugar baby anyways.”

“Mhm. I agree,” Hermione giggled. “I will make a much better girlfriend or wife.”

“Hermione I can’t… I need…”

She was a smart girl. She knew exactly what he wanted and needed but couldn’t bring himself to say.

“Today doesn’t change anything. Marriage, if it happens, won’t change anything,” Hermione whispered as she began to grind against his throbbing manhood. Her thighs brushed against his sensitive tip every few seconds, drawing a frustrated hiss from his lips. His precum smeared on her thighs with every brush and within seconds her creamy skin was glistening with a layer of it. “I will always be your submissive. My rules may change but I will always have them. You need control, I get it. I’m happy to give it to you.”

“Are you sure? I’m asking a lot from you. People will say I don’t truly love you. How can I when I’m demanding this-” he paused and gestured around the room ‘-for the rest of our lives?”

“True submission is the purest act of love, Harry Potter. I’m giving you… trusting you with everything and hoping you will treasure my trust,” Hermione whispered, pretending to be wiser than she felt. “You’ve had a lot of partners and a lot of bedroom games and they were fun, hmm?”

“Hermione, I-”

“It’s okay. I’m not jealous,” Hermione murmured. She shifted her hips and aligned her aching pussy with his cock. She kept her eyes locked with him as she slowly lowered herself until her slick lips brushed against his tip. She slowly ground against him, having his cock tease her wet folds without letting him push inside her. She paused, then gave him a sheepish smile. “Fine, I’m a little jealous,” she said breathlessly.

“Just a little?” Harry asked with a crooked smile.

“Okay, a lot. But only because it took me so long to meet you. No bedroom games with me, Harry. Let me be your submissive, for real.”

“Just to clarify-”

Hermione rolled her eyes and slapped his chest. “Yes, silly. I’m not asking you to stop our fun bedroom games.”

“You’re being sassier than usual today,” Harry murmured. He leaned back and propped himself up on his elbows so he could take in the perfection that was straddling his waist. Her red lips were pursed into the perfect pout and her messy brown curls spilled out of a loose ponytail, cascading around her shoulders. His gaze shifted lower and he willed the tattoo to move. The fluid ink wrapped around one pink nipple and then the next, coaxing both rosy peaks to stiffness with tiny pleasurable jolts. Hermione moaned and pressed her thighs together. Her slick skin gently massaged his shaft as she wiggled and adjusted herself on his lap. He made the tattoo move again and made it reform into ‘H.P.’ on her bare mound, mere inches away from her dripping core.

“I need to grab your attention somehow. You’re being unreasonably distant,” Hermione murmured breathlessly. She glanced at her tattoo and traced it tenderly. “Let’s make this a reality,” she whispered and shifted her palms to his chest. She pushed until he relented and lay down, looking up at her with a small smile playing on his lips. She lowered herself on his throbbing shaft inch by inch. His thick girth stretched the walls of her tight pussy to their limits and a very pleasurable ache radiated through her core. He moved to grab her hips but she playfully slapped his hands away.

“Nope. Let me take care of you,” Hermione whispered. She rolled her hips, grinding against him in a way that caused her walls to clamp down on his shaft every few seconds. The pressure massaged his length and gently milked his cock. His tip brushed against her G-spot with every full rotation, drawing a needy whimper from her lips.

Harry stared at the goddess bouncing on his cock with wide eyes. He grinned at her command and folded his arms behind his head. Hermione’s hands immediately moved to grab his biceps for support, her nails digging into his soft skin. She raised her hips until only his tip was inside her before lowering herself onto his shaft with a groan. Again and again, she repeated the action, establishing a steady rhythm. Harry’s eyes flickered to the tattoo on her mound and he willed a tendril to flow to her clit, making the ink wrap around the sensitive nub.

“Do you know what I am, Mister Potter?” Hermione asked, moaning quietly. The ink gave tiny, pleasurable jolts to her clit every time she pushed down on his shaft. The coil in her belly was already tightening and she had barely started her teasing.

“My submissive?”

Hermione raked her nails against his chest as a ‘punishment’ for the wrong answer, leaving thin white trails on his tanned skin in her wake. A soft hiss escaped Harry’s lips and his cock twitched inside her.

“M-my girlfriend?” Harry tried again. He was breathless. His balls had tightened and he knew he was holding himself together through sheer willpower. “Slow down, Mione.”

“Why? Afraid you’ll cum in your cockwarmer, Mister Potter?”

“Is that what you are?”

Hermione leaned in and buried her face in the crook of his neck. The new position provided her with extra leverage and she sped up, riding him as hard as she could. For a few seconds, the only sounds in the room were that of skin slapping against skin and his shaft plunging in and out of her wet folds as she slowly kissed up his neck to his jaw.

“I’m whatever you need me to be, my love,” Hermione murmured. She slowly kissed along his jawline, playfully nipping his skin every few seconds. She focused on his breath tickling her skin and the way his stubble scratched her soft lips, using the sensations to center herself. She planned to finish with him and not a second before he did. “You want a cuddle bunny? A cockwarmer? A submissive you bend over your desk and rail after a hard day?”

“Yes,” Harry groaned breathlessly. His eyes fluttered shut and he turned his head, finding her lips.

“Yes?” Hermione moaned into the kiss. She pulled away after a few seconds and arched her back, playfully giving him a show. “Which… one?” she asked as she flipped her hair over one shoulder and sped up. She was so, so close. Her swollen, bruised lips curled into a playful smile and she reached up to pinch her nipples, playfully tugging on the stiff nubs. “You like these, sir?” she asked, jiggling her pert breasts for him.

“I… fuck… yes!”

“What do you want me to be?” Hermione asked breathlessly. She was tiring but she stubbornly kept going, determined to finish what she had started.

“Everything…”

“And what do I get in return?”

“What do you want?” Harry asked with a loud groan. He stared at her breasts, watching her pinch and twist her nipples with wide eyes. She was seducing him, the cheeky minx.

“Your love and attention.” Hermione leaned in for another kiss. “Your seed. I need it inside me, Harry,” she mumbled against his lips. “Filling me, dripping out of me… running down my legs. Reminding me who I belong to.”

She pushed down on his length until he was fully sheathed inside her and Harry finally lost control. He erupted with a roar, wrapping his arms around her slender frame to hold her against him, filling her with his seed just as she had demanded. She tumbled over the edge within seconds. She screamed and slumped on top of him, peppering his sweaty skin with kisses as she rode her high. They stayed like that for a few seconds, cuddling and trying to catch their breath. Neither seemed willing to pull away but Hermione finally rolled off him when she felt his cum trickle down her thighs. She clamped her legs shut and stared at the ceiling with a happy sigh.

“I’ve never had someone ride me before.”

“Was it bad?” Hermione asked shyly, her newfound bravery disappearing as she realized exactly what she had done.

“Yes. We have to leave in ten minutes and I can’t feel my legs,” Harry teased. He rolled off the bed and made his way to the vanity on unsteady legs.

“Ass.” Hermione picked up a pillow and flung it at him.

“You’re just asking for a spanking when we get back, aren’t you, kitten?”

“What do I have to do to get you to spend an entire night exploring everything our ‘honeymoon’ suite has to offer? Maybe I’ll model something else for you. One of the costumes from their wardrobe?”

“Keep sassing me and you might just get what you’re asking for, Miss Granger.”

Hermione smirked. “Deal.”

She slowly opened her eyes when she felt his hands grab her thighs and spread her legs. She whined, not wanting to waste any more of his cum.

“Don’t worry. I’m just plugging you.”

Hermione opened her eyes and stared at the black toy in Harry’s hand. It looked like her buttplug, except it was cylindrical and covered with-

“Are those wards?”

“Yep. Spent all morning preparing it. I’m not taking you to a dangerous forest that is potentially the home of whatever remains of Voldemort without making sure you’re protected.”

“Yeah.” Hermione rolled her eyes and giggled. “I’m sure that’s why you’re making me… oh!” Hermione moaned as he pushed the plug inside her. It was a snug fit and would make sure no more of his cum leaked out of her. “Perfect,” she whispered breathlessly.

“Good.” Harry took her hand and helped her off the bed, leading her to the bathroom.

They took a quick shower and got dressed, neither truly wanting to leave. The brooding forest in the distance was a reminder of the real reason for their trip to Albania, however, and Hermione reluctantly buttoned up her blouse and joined Harry by the door.

“Ready to jump into the lion’s den?” Harry asked. He shut the door and tested the locks before joining Hermione at the top of the staircase.

“Absolutely. A spooky castle is exactly what every girl dreams of exploring during her honeymoon.” Hermione grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together as they descended the stairs. The hotel was quiet but she preferred it that way. She had no desire to meet any of the other patrons, especially when the list of guests had the potential to include murderous Death Eaters freshly out of Azkaban.

“Remember who we can run into,” Harry murmured, lowering his voice to make sure the peppy blonde manning the receptionist didn’t overhear their conversation.

The receptionist flashed them a bright smile as they passed her desk. “Mister Potter, I've called you a taxi as requested! I hope you have a fun and exciting day,” she said and shot them an exaggerated wink.

“She thinks we’re going to fuck in the creepy castle, doesn’t she?” Hermione asked under her breath.

“Probably.” Harry grinned. He pulled open the door of the taxi and helped her inside before sprinting over to the other side and climbing in himself.

“Do you know where to go?” Harry asked, looking at the silent driver.

“The old castle at the edge of town, yes?” the man replied in heavily accented English.

“Yep.”

Hermione leaned into Harry’s side and rested her head on his shoulder. She took his hand and gently traced soothing circles on the back of it with her thumb. “It’ll be alright.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“Why do you think it’ll be alright?” Harry asked with a frown. There were a million things that could go wrong. He had no idea what he’d do if they did find Voldemort. What state would they find him in? Would he have his followers with him or were they still searching for him?

Hermione’s gentle kiss on his cheek interrupted his train of thought.

“I know everything will be alright because I’m with you,” Hermione whispered, kissing his cheek again.

                                                                                       ---

“This part could be dangerous. Hermione, you should wait-”

“I’m not going anywhere without you.” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Harry. “Where you go, I go. I’m ready for whatever happens.”

“Where’s your wand?”

“Uh… in my back pocket?” Hermione frowned. Sure, the castle and the forest surrounding it were unsettling, but she couldn’t spot any immediate dangers. They had toured the entire structure and checked every room. They had all been empty. There were no dark wizards, no escaped convicts, not even a teeny tiny cursed object in sight. Why did he want her to pull out her wand? “This place is deserted, Harry. There’s nothing here.”

“Can’t you feel it?”

“Feel what?” Hermione looked around the abandoned castle. It had seen better days and had a melancholy feel to it, but nothing jumped out to her as inherently dangerous. True, they hadn’t checked the grounds that surrounded it yet but Hermione doubted her assessment of the place would change once they did.

For now, she simply did as he had instructed and pulled her wand out, following him as he walked down the path made by the filled-in moat that had once surrounded the castle. He was making his way to the forest that lay behind the fort, the one that the receptionist had told them not to enter under any circumstances. But even as they got closer to it Hermione didn’t feel anything change except a slight hum from the toy inside her. She tugged on her blouse, trying to pull the fabric away from her sore and sensitive nipples.

“There’s something in the air. My scar hasn’t stopped tingling since we got out of the taxi,” Harry muttered. His grip on his wand tightened until his knuckles were white and he looked around worriedly, wishing Hermione would reconsider her decision to stay with him. “Hermione are you sure-”

“Where you go, I go. Now and forever,” Hermione growled. She ran up to him and grabbed his free hand, lacing their fingers together. “Why didn’t you ever get it treated?”

“My scar? We tried. My father consulted Healers from three different countries but none of them could figure out how to heal it. We even visited Muggle doctors to see if they had a solution. Nothing worked. All of them just advised us to leave it alone in the end since it didn’t seem to bother me.”

“It’s bothering you now,” Hermione whispered, her eyes scanning their surroundings nervously. A fog had rolled in as they got closer to the forest. The thick mist surrounded them within minutes, making it impossible to see more than three feet in front of them. The castle was obscured from view and Hermione raised her wand to light it, only for Harry to stop her with a shake of his head.

“We are just doing recon. We go in, see what’s going on, then get the hell out. Preferably undetected.”

Hermione nodded.

They stepped off the path and made their way to the line of trees that heralded the entrance to the Forest of Makaria. The silence was oppressive. The dense foliage blocked all sunlight, leaving them in darkness. It took Hermione a few minutes to understand what was wrong. There were no birdsongs or sounds of animals. The leaves of the trees were perfectly still. The bark and leaves of every single tree had a grayish coating, almost as if a rot had settled on them.

“Has your scar hurt before?”

“Not once in my entire life. Not before today.” Harry winced and inhaled sharply. “The throbbing is getting worse. It’s actually stinging now.”

“Someone has used a lot of dark magic here, Harry,” Hermione whispered. Now that they had entered the forest she could see signs of foul sorcery everywhere around them. The dying trees, the utter lack of creatures, and the consistent humming of the warded toy under her clothes all hinted at something truly terrible. She resisted the urge to reach out and feel the tree closest to her. Touching cursed things without knowing what they were was the quickest way to an early grave.

Harry nodded. His eyes darted around, chasing shadows through the thick fog. It was impossible to ascertain what they were and he decided to treat each and every shadow as a potential threat waiting to attack them.

“Why didn’t the Albanian Ministry of Magic do anything about this forest?”

“They tried,” Harry whispered, tightening his grip on his wand. His knuckles whitened and his fingers were cramping. It was a terrible dueling form but he couldn’t help himself. Something about the place kicked in fears he didn’t even know existed. “The wildlife drove them out. Feral unicorns with warts and sores on their skin. Nifflers half your size with a taste for human flesh. They lost two wizards trying to clear out the forest. A third disappeared without a trace. In the end, they decided the cost wasn’t worth it.”

“I’ve never heard about it.”

“It’s classified. My father got it through his contact in the Albanian Ministry. They sealed off the forest and forgot about it. They sent someone to check on it once a year but the creatures slowly died off. Things settled down and old fears became folk tales. Once the forest was empty they didn’t see any point in refreshing the enchantment. The barrier fell last year.”

Hermione frowned. “That’s awfully convenient. Voldemort’s most loyal supporters break out of Azkaban a few months after the forest he’s rumored to be in can be entered again.”

“Exactly,” Harry growled, gritting his teeth. “But Fudge refuses to listen to reason or use common sense. There should be a team of Aurors keeping a watch on this place at this very moment.”

Harry paused and turned right, taking a different path.

“Why did you turn?”

“My scar stopped hurting.”

“Why does that… oh.” Hermione sucked in a breath. “Whatever is in here is making your scar hurt. If we go wherever it hurts the most we’ll find whatever it is that we’re looking for.”

“Smart girl,” Harry said fondly. “Do you remember my instructions, Hermione?”

“Harry, I-”

“You swore,” Harry growled. “What did you promise, Miss Granger?”

“I promised to be a good kitten and obey all instructions,” Hermione said softly but she tightened her grip on his hand. “As long as the order isn’t to abandon you.”

“Hermione that wasn’t what I-”

“Red.” It was her turn to growl. “That’s a hard limit, sir,” she said, adopting a formal tone. “I won’t leave you.”

“What if something happens to you? I can’t live without you. You don’t… you don’t even have a portrait. Who do I love?” Harry asked, rapidly blinking away unshed tears. If they were walking to their deaths, he needed her to know how he truly felt. “Did you know my father’s biggest regret is that he didn’t tell her he loved her that day?”

“Do you think I can live without you? Do you think your mother would have left your father if they’d been in that house together?”

“Only to save me,” Harry whispered.

“Then you already know the only reason I’d ever abandon you,” Hermione whispered. The fog had gotten thicker and it was getting difficult to see anything. But they kept walking, stumbling through the diseased trees as they used his scar as a compass to locate whatever it was that had cursed the forest. “Do you have a portrait?”

Harry wordlessly shook his head.

“We’ll get them made when we get back,” Hermione whispered. She turned to Harry, only to realize he wasn’t paying attention to her. He was staring into the distance and she followed his gaze, her eyes widening when she registered the pinprick of light in the distance.

“No noise,” Harry whispered, his voice barely audible.

Hermione gripped her wand tightly and followed him, taking care not to step on any fallen leaves or twigs that would give away their presence. The forest was deathly silent and the fog thickened to an impenetrable blanket but it did not matter. They had the light as a guide and the small pinprick shone through the gloom, magically cutting through the fog. The first thing that hit her as they got closer was the smell. It was the smell of rotting fruit, a kind of sickly sweet that turned her stomach and made her want to hurl. They were now a few meters away from a clearing in the forest and Hermione could hear the ten or so hooded figures in the middle of the clearing whispering excitedly.

“-miracle-”

“-a new body-”

“-it is weak. How will-”

Hermione glanced at Harry questioningly but he simply shrugged and shook his head.

“Silence!”

The high-pitched voice turned Hermione’s blood cold. A shiver ran up her spine and she squeezed Harry’s hand, taking comfort from his presence. It was a voice unlike any she had ever heard before. Childlike, but no child could ever sound so cruel and hateful. Malice dripped from every syllable and Hermione knew the owner of the voice knew no emotion except hatred.

The hooded figures whimpered and fell silent as one. They kneeled, revealing a woman standing in the middle of the circle they had created. She must have once been a true beauty and Hermione only had to take one look at her gaunt face and the crazed look in her eyes to know who she was.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

They had beaten Harry and her to whatever was hidden in the forest. Bellatrix was cradling a bundle of blankets in her arms, staring at it with what could only be described as a mixture of pure love and devotion.

“I will gain a new body soon. This is but a temporary vessel to house my essence until better arrangements can be made,” Voldemort rasped. “Until I have returned to my original form, Wormtail can see to my needs.”

The joyous expression on Bellatrix’s face evaporated. It was replaced by a look Hermione was all too familiar with. The fear of being rejected by someone she loved, terror at the thought of being cast aside for someone better and more useful.

“M-master, I can do it! I can take care of you.”

“I have more important tasks for you, dear Bella.” The words were affectionate but the voice was still ice cold. “Tasks I can’t entrust to the useless lump in front of you. Twenty years on the run and he never came to me!” Voldemort screeched. “Punish him!”

The hooded figure kneeling next to Pettigrew pulled out his wand and pointed it at Pettigrew. “Crucio,” the man said coldly and everyone except Hermione and Harry watched in satisfaction as Pettigrew writhed and trashed on the ground, screaming in agony.

“Let that be your lesson, Wormtail. Think about abandoning us again and I’ll let Bella have her fun with you,” Voldemort said coldly.

Pettigrew sobbed and crawled towards Bellatrix, mumbling and begging for forgiveness continuously. He tried to hug her feet but she kicked him right in the crotch and watched indifferently as he rolled around on the ground, howling with pain.

“Harry,” Hermione whispered as softly as she could. He had told her to be quiet but they had seen enough. They had to get out while they still could. “He’s back. We have to tell your father.”

When there was no answer she turned to look at Harry, her eyes widening when she realized he had slumped to the ground. Her hand was still in his and he was gripping it with enough force to bruise but she had been so engrossed by what was going on in front of her that she hadn’t even noticed the pain.

“Harry?” Hermione whispered again, kneeling next to him. He had pushed himself up against the trunk of a tree and had his free hand pressed against his scar. He was trembling violently and mumbling to himself but she couldn’t catch a word of what he was saying. Their connection had also gone silent at the worst possible moment and the only thing that she could feel through the tattoo on her back was infuriating silence.

Their connection was an ingenious piece of magic, a magical tunnel between their minds that allowed him to project his presence and feelings into her mind. The only way it could be silent was if he deliberately withdrew and walled himself off, which he had never done, not even to hide his deepest fears and darkest desires. Hermione knew he’d never willingly shut her out unless-

“Fuck,” she swore under her breath.

She glanced at the scar he was rubbing, her body taking a second to accept what her mind had already worked out.

He’d never shut down their connection unless someone was in his mind and he didn’t want them gaining access to her.

“-with them later. We have guests, Bella,” Voldemort said. “It would be rude to make them wait.”

Hermione slowly straightened to see that every person in the clearing had turned in their direction. Bellatrix was walking towards them, still carefully cradling the bundle of blankets in one arm. Her free hand held a bone-white wand that she pointed squarely at Hermione’s face.

Hermione froze and gave up on trying to pull Harry to his feet. She made no attempt to fight back. One against eleven were horrible odds and even the wards on her body would only hold up for so long before giving out. And they provided no protection against Unforgivables, which were the only spells the gathered lot seemed interested in using. She glanced at Harry, trying to figure out what he’d do if he was in her shoes.

Buy time to figure out a route of escape.

Good plan, she told the voice in her head.

She forced her lips into the goofiest smile she could manage. “Hi! Sorry to interrupt your little cult meeting but we were told there’s this amazing make-out spot in the forest. My boyfriend gets a headache if he doesn’t nut every two hours. Isn’t that crazy? Say hi to the cultists, love!” Hermione said with a high-pitched fake giggle.

Bellatrix’s wand didn’t waver. Hermione kept tugging on Harry’s hand, knowing the dense fog would obscure what she was trying to do. It would certainly help cover their escape and make it difficult for the Death Eaters to land spells but her plan would only work if she managed to get Harry up.

“You were right, my lord!” Bellatrix squealed as she got closer. “It’s Potter!”

Fuck.

“And his mudblood bitch. My my my,” Bellatrix sneered, staring at Hermione with a hungry expression.

Fuckity fuck.

“Keep him alive,” Voldemort snarled from the bundle of blankets in Bellatrix’s arm. His voice was strained and breathless. “He may be of use yet.”

“And the girl, my lord?”

“Do what you want with her. Just don't play with your food for too long, we leave as soon as it is dark.”

Notes:

Uh oh, looks like someone is in a pickle. Needed to up the stakes of the story a bit and I ended things on a cliffhanger cause I'm evil like that. If you want to catch up on the story and prefer to read PDFs or EPUBs, they're available in my Google Drive. The link is in my pinned post! Married Harry and Hermione are an S-Tier ship, change my mind. Their chemistry is flawless, especially when Harry helps her be more confident instead of bashing her likes and interests like a certain someone. These two give me the warm and fuzzies.