A Morning After

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/54810850.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Characters: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger
Additional Tags: Smut, Morning Kisses, Morning After, Secret Relationship, Post-Second
Wizarding War with Voldemort (Harry Potter), Coffee, Past Hermione
Granger/Ron Weasley, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Language: English
Collections: Harmony For Humanity (Writer's Version)
Stats: Published: 2024-03-29 Words: 3,603 Chapters: 1/1
 A Morning After
by Aeyliana

Summary

A glimpse into the secret life of two secret lovers enjoying the morning after a very steamy
night. Shame that the coffee is terrible.

Notes

Prompt:

See the end of the work for more notes

Stirring from a deep and restful sleep, Hermione peeked her eyes open. Soft light graced her
vision, daylight. Slowly, she emerged to full awareness, her senses all confirming that she
was indeed in bed and naked under the sheets. Propping her elbows down into the mattress,
she inched her head up from the pillow. She frowned at the crisp decor of the unfamiliar
bedroom. Dark wood accents contrasted sharply with the white, fresh walls. It wasn’t
something to her own tastes, too modern. Yet it was pleasantly muggle, enough to make her
relax and not immediately freak out about not being in her Mayfair apartment.

As if remembering details from a dream, she recalled the reasons why she was so well-rested
and not at home. All she had to do was turn her head to the right, following the soft sounds of
slow, calm breathing. There he was, deep asleep. Enough muted light of the early morning
seeped through the closed blinds, enough for her to make out every detail of his face. Head
propped up on the pillow where he slept with his arm bent underneath, she could trace the
line of his jaw with her gaze to where it sloped up to his ear. She took in the shadows of his
eyelashes, softness contrasting against the sharper lines of his dark brows and specifically the
harsh slashes of the scar that marred his otherwise smooth forehead. Lazy curls of jet black
hair scattered over his face, in serious need of a haircut yet his preference was to have it long
and slightly manageable. It had no business sticking up in all directions then.

Hermione controlled her urge to wake him. Both of them so rarely were blessed with decent
sleep. At her side, Harry Potter was the picture of a peaceful sleeper. She wondered if he was
dreaming or if, like her, their rampant nightly activities had exhausted him to the point where
he dived straight down into a deep sleep. She hoped so… as she knew all too well what
nightmares plagued him. Eleven years after the war, they were less frequent, but the ghosts of
their past still haunted their nights.

Careful to not disturb him, Hermione shuffled her way from under the bedsheets. The air
immediately chilled her bare flesh as she crept out of bed, fully nude. Her hair draped down
her shoulders, almost long enough to cover her breasts. Stilling, Hermione searched the room
for her clothes before remembering that her clothes were in the other room of the hotel suite.
The night before, they hadn’t waited to get to bed before starting. Or at least Harry hadn’t
waited.

Walking on the balls of her feet to make as little sound as possible, she paced from the side of
the bed. Harry’s trousers, pants and shirt were in a heap at the foot of the bed where he’d
urgently undressed himself after he placed Hermione on the bed, wonton for his attention.
Smile blooming to life on her face as her blood warmed up her cool skin, she fetched his
white shirt from the floor. It would have to do while she went to get some coffee… and
relocate her clothes from where Harry had scattered them about the room in his urgency to
undress her.

Harry’s shirt was just long enough to cover her properly to be decent. Not that it really
mattered. Though she couldn’t recall if either of them had put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the
door before tumbling inside. Her attention had been rather distracted while Harry couldn’t
wait to even get the key in the door.
Her thighs softly hissed together as she silently made her way into the living space. Harry
had typically spent a little extra on the room, making sure that they weren’t slumming it when
they didn’t have to. The room had come with a bottle of champagne that they made fast work
of. As she made her way to the kitchenette, spotting the coffee machine, she stopped as she
caught sight of the view. Her breath left her in a sigh of awe. The newly risen sun had bathed
the sea in a shimmering array of rose and gold highlights.

Of course, Harry would pick a room with a view.

Turning away, she reached the breakfast bar, smiling as she found her wand and handbag.
Absently, she fixed her hair as she went in search of starting her morning with her strict
routine of having black coffee. Twisting her hair up behind her head in a simple knot, she
stuck her wand through to keep it in place. Magic and potions were pretty much the only
forces powerful enough to tame her hair.

Figuring out the coffee machine was hardly an exercise of deduction for someone as brilliant
as Hermione Granger. Within a minute, she’d worked out the appliance and all its functions.
Filter filled with coffee left as part of the suite’s accessories, the machine gurgled and whirred
as it got to life, brewing her favourite potion of them all.

A rattling sound from the bedroom then pricked her hearing. Hermione leaned back, peering
over to the entrance to the bedroom. Shadows moved on the wall as a certain sleepyhead had
seemingly woken up to the sound of coffee being brewed. Looking down, Hermione bit her
lip with amusement. No doubt Harry would be very confused about his missing shirt. She
listened to the sound of him moving around. The rattling clink that gave him away was his
belt buckle, she realised.

The coffee machine finished gushing black coffee into the waiting receptacle. Hermione took
the cup at once, moving back to blow a breath over the surface of the steaming brew. She
settled back against the breakfast bar, waiting for Harry to make his appearance. Her heart
started to race with the anticipation for them potentially continuing where they left off before
they went to sleep.

A low chuckle greeted Hermione as Harry stepped out from the bedroom. He immediately
put his hands on his hips, brow raised. Hermione squeezed her legs together out of reflex as
she was at once stirred at the sight of Harry without his shirt on. Her fault, of course. The
lean form of his body never failed to get a rise out of her, not since he started to pack on the
layer of muscle that he needed to be at top physical shape for his job.

“So that’s where my shirt got to,” Harry said, grinning at her. His gaze travelled down, not
bothering to conceal his blatant interest. “I think it suits you better.”

He then approached but not before reacting to the view out the balcony just as she had done.
While he was distracted, Hermione set her coffee down and went to make Harry a drink. As
she went to empty the machine and refill, Harry pulled himself away from the sea view and
came up to the bar. She glanced at him, catching his meaningful look.

“You know that coffee comes first,” she reminded him. Harry snorted softly, resting his
elbow on the dark wood surface.
“What’s the time?” He asked instead. She looked over to the microwave, the numerals
answering his question. It was just past seven AM. Harry followed her gaze. “Oh… you
really didn’t want to sleep in?”

“Check-out is at ten and then we’re back to being us again,” Hermione explained as she
fetched a cup for Harry. “Do you want to waste valuable time sleeping?”

“I can’t argue with that logic,” Harry remarked with a smirk, “not that I would ever argue
with your logic.”

Hermione gathered her cup in her hands, turning to face where Harry stood. His body
language was almost challenging where his green eyes watched her from behind his glasses
with a restless impatience. She sipped at her coffee, inhaling the steam and the aroma. It
smelt much better than it tasted, but then she was very picky about her coffee.

“That is a lie. You often argue with my logic. Not that it does you any good,” she said as she
turned her back on the coffee machine as it gurgled away. Harry raised his brow again, a
playful smile curling at the corner of his mouth. Taking the bait, he moved from the bar,
coming around to join her.

“Me? Lying?” Harry said with feigned innocence as he then wiggled his brows challengingly.
Hermione set her coffee down on the counter next to her, now raising her own brow at him.
Harry grin broadened, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

“You are only saying as much to get on my good side… and I know how much you like being
on my good side.” Hermione said sweetly, playing along. Harry tilted his head to one side,
his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“Now, we both know that I’m always on your good side.”

“Bold of you to presume,” Hermione said breathlessly as the coffee machine finished. In the
sudden silence, Harry stepped up to her, closing the distance between her. Standing those few
extra inches taller, he loomed over, grinning that daring smile.

She went to push at his chest, her own smile growing at his teasing. Harry chuckled, ducking
his head down to kiss her on top of her curls.

“What about now?” he murmured into her hair. “Still want to wait until you’ve finished your
coffee?”

Startling her, his hands suddenly caught her around the waist and he lifted her effortlessly.
Just high enough so she could sit on the counter with her back to the wall. She squirmed on
the hardwood, having to press her thighs together at his show of dominance. Harry leaned to
the side, taking his mug of coffee from the machine. He shifted himself closer, using his hips
to push her legs apart so he could step in between. One hand rested at her back as he guided
her close to him. The steam from his coffee hung around them as his cheek brushed against
hers.

Damn him…
“I have morning breath,” she murmured. Harry scrunched his nose up in response but
immediately smiled lazily at her.

“You smell like coffee,” he commented, “and I had the foresight to use a freshening charm.”

His breath was indeed odourless as it huffed against her face, hot and needy. Hermione’s gaze
dipped down to Harry’s belt, seeing his wand thrust through the black leather holster.
Looking back up, she watched his eyes slide shut as he nuzzled his face against hers, just
content for the contact alone. Sighing, she closed her own eyes, bringing her hand up to his
face. He hummed happily as she lightly cupped his cheek. Bringing her lips over his so they
were so close to touching, she hovered tantalisingly. She could feel his excitement ebbing out
in waves of heat. His bare skin radiating warmth.

“I’d hate for my coffee to go cold,” she said softly, her lips brushing against his. Harry’s eyes
shot open. His mouth opened in dismay. Hermione laughed low at his reaction. He set his
coffee down next to hers, his green eyes flicking minutely left and right as he searched her
gaze.

“Don’t pout,” she then chided, “patience is a virtue, haven’t you heard?”

Harry groaned in response, head dropping down to her shoulder. Hermione shivered as he
then kissed her neck. Determined to keep her resolve, she turned to look at their coffee,
picking up her cup. She brought it to her lips, sipping and inwardly cringing at the overly
bitter taste. For a four star establishment, they had a shocking choice of coffee.

She felt Harry smiling between his kisses, all too aware of the game. Unlike wizarding chess
or Quidditch, this game was one that Hermione thoroughly enjoyed playing. Unfortunately
for them, it was a game that they could only play in private and well away from anyone who
knew who they were. At first, the teasing and exchanges were just innocent banter between
two close friends. Then they tested the waters over the years, the remarks becoming more
suggestive. Only out of earshot would they dare to flirt. And so their secret relationship
started to grow. Remarks developed into looks, looks into touches… then touches into kisses.

By the time they were both in their twenties, they were single. While they both attempted to
make something of their relationships with Ron and Ginny, things weren’t meant to be. The
attempts taught them a lot about themselves and each other. Too many explosive rows and
awkward attempts to apologise had Hermione ending things with Ron after three years of
being together. Harry and Ginny lasted only a year. Not known for her patience, Ginny ended
things when Harry kept stalling, not ready to propose and get married young as she expected.
Harry was left heartbroken in her wake. He still made some effort to be connected with the
Weasley family for Molly and Arthur’s sake more than anything else.

The first time Harry and Hermione spent the night together had been as a result of too much
wine and too much loneliness. Hermione made the call the following morning that it was a
one-time thing. They couldn’t afford to risk the one relationship in their lives that hadn’t been
messed up. By the following week, Harry had her against his bedroom wall. Sex had been the
missing ingredient to their relationship and the moment it was added, there was no turning
back. It was obvious to them that there could be no one else in their lives. But with their lives
being the property of the public, the reality of matters drove them to keep their love a secret.
Their relationship wasn’t official. It couldn’t be if they wanted to keep their privacy. In a way,
the secrecy was all part of what made it so thrilling when they stole precious moments
together. They adopted aliases and blended in with muggles, becoming just two young people
engaging in a romance that could easily end up as a best-seller in W.H.Smith. As far as the
wizarding world was concerned, they were single and too busy for love. With Hermione on
the sure path to become the youngest ever Minister of Magic, it was a believable image to
present to their world. And with Harry rarely in the country for longer than a couple of
weeks’ at a time, speculations about his love life often ended up with the rumour that he was
a man of many mistresses.

The truth that they were lovers was their secret and theirs alone.

“Lecturing me on patience? So cruel…” Harry whispered against her collarbone as he started

to explore her skin around the collar of his shirt. Then she felt his smile turn wicked as he
shifted closer to her so he was flush against the counter. She could feel the hard bulge of his
morning wood straining against his black jeans. “I suppose it’s a shame then that I’m not as
virtuous as people think.”

His hand was between her legs. She hadn’t noticed him slyly slip his fingers under the hem of
his shirt. Her breath caught as his fingers expertly parted her lips and sought out his prize.
Heat immediately flushed her as he lightly brushed his fingertips over her clitoris. She
squeezed her legs around him reflexively, pleasure forcing a huff out of her nostrils,
disturbing the surface of her coffee. Harry raised his head, green eyes shining with smugness
as an almost devilish smile slashed up his cheek.

Harry wasn’t going to win this game. Hermione refused to give him the victory, not that early
in the morning. Harry just grinned infuriatingly as he got to work making the slick sounds
between her legs as he methodically worked her clitoris between his fingers. Each revolution
around the spot drove the rush of pleasure higher and higher. Inescapable tension clenched
inside her as he pleasured her. She gasped when he slid a finger into her, the wet sounds
evidence that despite her stubbornness, Harry was winning.

“Perhaps you should have been sorted into Slytherin after all,” she breathed out before
drinking a mouthful of the bitter coffee. Harry’s eyes burned with the jibe, his smile
broadening.

“Meow. The cat has claws today,” he countered, inserting a second finger while his thumb
continued to rub her. Hermione ground her legs around him, her calves rubbing up and down
his legs. Harry rocked himself forwards at her contact, his teeth briefly biting at his lip.
Satisfaction shot through her.

“Two can play this game,” she said as she sipped her coffee. “How are things in your pants
right now?”

“Pretty… miserable, to be honest. I don’t know why I bothered putting on trousers,” Harry
said with a slight strain to his voice. She laughed but then moaned, eyes widening as Harry
caught her by surprise, nipping her on the earlobe. She nearly dropped her coffee.
Harry then whispered in her ear, “now I know you don’t need caffeine to get stimulated. I can
feel just how ready you - umph!”

He won. With a smart tap, Hermione set down her half-drunk coffee. Both her hands shot up,
seizing Harry’s face with urgent need. She shut him up with a hard kiss, claiming his wicked
mouth with her own. His fingers left her as he went at once to clutch her around the waist to
support her as she dived in.

Coffee be damned. It tasted terrible anyway.

Harry groaned as she bit on his lip, so desperate to taste Harry instead. His mouth was wet
but she didn’t care about the visceral sounds they were making. They had pushed each other
over the edge of reason, reduced to their most primal versions of themselves. The only thing
that mattered was the want.

Their mouths parted, both gasping for air. Hermione stared at Harry’s flushed face, seeing
that his glasses were wonky. She didn’t pause, hands dropping from his face to his trousers to
liberate him from the predicament she put him in. Her fingers deftly undid his belt buckle,
fumbling on his flies. All the while, his hands were climbing up to where he went to felt her
through his shirt, hands moving to cup her breasts. Hermione’s head dropped forwards,
resting against his chest. She could feel his heart hammering against his chest, flooded with
excitement.

His trousers dropped past his hips. Hermione hooked her fingers over the hem of his boxers,
pushing them down. Harry shifted foot to foot to dislodge his clothes and let gravity to the
rest. He wasn’t slowing down, stepping out of his trousers where he kicked them along with
his pants to the side. Fully naked and exposed, he let out a low growl, hands dropping down
to her waist again. Hermione took his length in her hands, the flesh rock hard as if
transfigured into warm stone.

“Is that better?” She asked softly as she pumped her hand down to the hilt. Harry didn’t need
words to answer. He kissed her in the corner of her mouth, making her turn her head so he
could gain access. His tongue pushed in, running around hers as he went to taste the awful
coffee lingering on her taste buds. As she went to pleasure him in return for his ministrations,
his hips thrust against her hand.

The counter rattled, their coffee cups trembling along with the other items stowed on the
kitchen unit. Harry pulled back with a gasp, letting out a dry laugh.

“I’m not sure this counter will survive if I take you on it… or our coffee, for that matter.”

“Take me to bed,” Hermione breathed out, “coffee… can wait.”

Harry laughed again, triumph dancing in his eyes.

“I knew this would happen when I woke up with a morning glory,” he remarked before
shifting a hand under her behind, getting ready to lift her up.
Hermione laughed with him as she stopped rubbing his penis, instead bringing her arms
around him so he could carry her back to bed. She rocked her head back, sighing in pleasure.
They had performed the act so many times, it was a well choreographed dance. Harry’s
strength had him lifting her without much effort at all while she wrapped her legs around him
with as much tenacity as devil’s snare.

Back in the bedroom, Harry dropped them both on the bed with a little less grace than usual.
The bed jostled under their combined weights, shifting on the floor. Harry didn’t waste any
time as he went to straddle her. She scrambled up the bed under him so they were in the
centre. Harry loomed over her on all fours, his erection tracing over his shirt that she was
wearing. Hermione went to remove the only garment either of them were wearing. She still
had no idea where her own clothes ended up after the night before. She was past caring.
She’d transfigure the bedsheets if she had to.

“I suppose… you win this round,” Hermione said as she gazed up at her lover. She brought
her hands up to remove his glasses. These, too, she discarded. Harry grinned that infuriating
smile again, lowering himself down to kiss her. When he came up for air, his green eyes
glinted mischievously.

“To the victor goes the spoils,” he breathed out.

As his kisses started to travel further and further south, Hermione conceded. Perhaps losing
to Harry Potter wasn’t so bad after all.
End Notes

This was inspired by art from Jabulous and written to show some love towards their efforts
and contribution to the harmony art raffle for charity.

The art raffle was created as a harmony community effort to provide aid to displaced families
in Gaza. To find out more about the charity event, you can get all the details on the instagram
page here - https://www.instagram.com/harmonyforhumanity_/ as well as over on subreddit
with the announcement here: https://redd.it/1bkb3pr.

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