Need

Author: Lissanne
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended
Summary: Companion piece to Debbie's Comfort. This time, Harry responds to Hermione's need.
Author's Note: I originally challenged Debbie to write some H/Hr smut, but since we could not decide whether Harry should comfort Hermione or the other way around, we each decided to take a turn.

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Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes disorientedly, the sound that had awoken him becoming clearer. He turned to the fireplace in his bedroom, where he saw the hovering head of Hermione. Even in the flames, he could see her distress, and he watched as she swiped at her eyes.

"Hermione," he said, grabbing his glasses and sliding out of bed hurriedly. "What's the matter?"

Hermione's voice hitched as she tried to find the words. "Bad... bad dream," she stuttered before another wave of tears overtook her.

"I'll be right there." He threw on his jeans, a t-shirt and some sneakers, then watched as Hermione's head disappeared from the fireplace. He knew the quickest way to get to her was to Floo, and he also knew she would have deactivated the wards on her flat to allow him direct access. With a small sigh, he grabbed the powder and was at her place two minutes later.

Picking himself up, Harry shook off as much soot as he could before looking at Hermione. Her distress was obvious. She fisted her nightgown in her hands, her eyes moving wildly around the room. Her hair was even bushier than normal and her eyes were watery and red. "Hermione," he said softly, opening his arms.

As if she'd been in a trance, Hermione looked up at him, standing her ground, her eyes wide and disbelieving. "Harry?" she said. "Is it really you?"

Harry dropped his arms and stepped forward. "Of course it's me," he said in a puzzled tone.

Hermione closed the distance between them. "You're all dirty," she said, reaching up a hand to wipe some soot off his face.

Harry looked at her carefully, any sleepiness he'd had ten minutes previously having evaporated completely. He hadn't seen her this upset since the day they'd found out about the destruction of the Burrow and the loss of those inside it. He gave himself another shake, feeling the soot that had gotten down the back of his t-shirt, then took Hermione by the hand and silently led her to the bathroom, not wanting to leave her alone for even a minute.

Once they were there, he turned the water on and stripped, helped her do the same, and then pushed her into the shower, stepping in behind her and shutting the door. He took a few seconds to stick his face under the water and give himself a rinse, then turned towards Hermione, who stood looking at him as though she was seeing a ghost. He stepped towards her until she was back against the tiles and he had a hand on either side of her face.

"Tell me what happened," he prompted softly, nuzzling her neck.

The sound of his voice and the feel of his lips on her bare skin seemed to snap her to the present, and her eyes once again filled with tears as she stood in front of him and reached her hands up to his face. She ran her fingertips over his skin slowly, and as always her touch aroused him. "I was dreaming," she began in a soft voice, her eyes never leaving his. "I was at the Burrow after the Death Eaters had gotten there. They were all dead." Harry said nothing, his face hovering just inches from hers, water dripping off his skin. They'd both had this dream before, where they'd been too late to save their friends. "I went to find you," Hermione continued on, "to tell you what had happened... but you weren't there. So I looked around and I found you. Dead, along with the others." Her eyes welled with tears, but she continued to touch his skin, tracing the outline of his jaw and neck. "Oh, Harry," she whispered. "When I woke up, I really thought I'd lost you. It was so real."

Harry leaned in and kissed her, slowly and deliberately. "You didn't lose me, Hermione," he said against her lips. "You'll never lose me. I'm here."

They both knew his words were hollow; neither of them could guarantee they would survive as the war raged on. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," Hermione whispered.

Harry took her mouth again, his kiss more insistent, his tongue seeking hers. She closed her eyes and cupped his face in her hands, her fingers stroking his skin. As he kissed her, he sensed her sadness. He knew she was hurting. He knew she needed to be comforted in the way only he could comfort her.

Hermione pulled back slightly, keeping her hands where they were and her eyes shut tight, her fingers continuing to work their magic on him. The distance between them was so scant that Harry knew she could feel his arousal, but still he did not touch her with anything other than his lips, even though his desire for her was mounting by the second. This needed to be about her, for her.

Hermione opened her eyes and kissed him again softly, and her hands began to snake down his body, running over his chest and arms and moving south. When she wrapped a hand around his erection, Harry smiled against her lips.

"I don't think there's any soot down there," he murmured, trying to make her laugh. He got his desired reaction; Hermione let out a small laugh, a smile curving her lips.

"Perhaps not, but it doesn't hurt to make sure anyway." She smiled at him again, but it soon faded. "Harry," she whimpered.

"Tell me what you need," he said, kissing her.

"I need you." Her voice was so low it was almost a whisper.

Harry reached over and shut the water off, then picked Hermione up. She wrapped her legs around him as he carried her to the bedroom and gently placed her on it. He quickly grabbed his wand to cast a warming charm that blocked out the cold of the night. She shimmied back up it as Harry crawled on, leaning over her.

He bent down and ran his tongue over her nipple, and the moan she let out only served to make him harder. He kissed and sucked her sensitive skin, a small part of him pleased that he could garner such a response from her. He let her go and moved into position as Hermione's hands went around his neck.

"You're all wet," she murmured as he kissed her.

Snaking a finger down her body, he slipped his hand between her open legs and caressed her. "So are you." Hermione favoured him with a smile which prompted Harry to give her a lingering kiss. He pulled back, wanting to watch her face as he entered her, needing to see he was still capable of providing the comfort she so desperately craved.

As he pulled her hips to him and entered her, Hermione exhaled. Once he was firmly buried to the hilt within her, she brought her hands back to his face, her thumbs running over his cheeks. Harry dipped his head again and they kissed slowly as he began to move, pushing into her over and over. He wanted to drive her demons away; he hated more than anything to see Hermione hurting. For as much comfort as he gave her now, he knew down the track she would hurt again. As would he.

With a rhythm developed over many years of practice, they moved together, pushing each other towards the edge. Harry was determined to wait until Hermione had found her release before he let go; tonight was all about her and giving her the comfort she needed.

He didn't have to wait long; he soon recognized the change in her breathing and the way she arched underneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist as she sought her release. Hermione cried out as she came, shuddering underneath him, and Harry allowed himself to let go, pushing into her a few times before it all became too much and he exploded inside her.

Harry collapsed on top of her, and Hermione held him to her; he knew she welcomed his weight against her. She rubbed her hands slowly over his back as if savouring the feel of his skin underneath her fingertips. Harry knew what was going through her head; Hermione was now able to know that he was real. He was alive and it had only been a bad dream. He knew this realisation would calm her, make her whole again, and he was glad he had been able to help her heal once more.

Not wanting to crush her, he withdrew gently and rolled onto his back, gathering her into his arms. "Feel better?"

Hermione kissed his neck gently. "Much better. Thank you."

"Anything for you, Hermione," he assured her. "Anything."

"Will you stay?"

He grasped her hand and curled his fingers around hers. "I'll be here when you wake."

"Promise?"

"I promise." He gave her one last kiss, then pulled the blankets up around them and waited until Hermione got comfortable, then curled his body around hers. He stroked her arm slowly, waiting until he could hear her breathing become slow and steady as she slept, then allowed himself to drift off, his skin still touching hers.

Please send Lissanne feedback.

Read Debbie's companion piece Comfort here.