Harry's Problem

Disclaimer: Not my characters. J.K. Rowling created them. I own nothing here except the plot. Happy reading!

A/N: Big thanks go to my original beta, Charmed_Nay, and to CocoaChristy for doing a second look

"How does that feel?" Harry asked. Yeah, I could get used to this. They were sitting on the floor near the fire in his flat; his mate was out for the evening...no interruptions. This was the life. Just the quiet flat, his friend, and a nice bottle of wine to keep him company while taking the time to get to know his date.

"Oh, Harry, it feels good. I didn't know you could massage so well," Hannah said dreamily.

"I'm good at everything I do," he said confidently. "In fact..." He didn't even get a chance to finish his sentence, as she turned and pounced on him. Wow! Must be the effects of the wine! She immediately began unbuckling his trousers.

"I want you, Harry," she said breathlessly.

"Er...all right," he replied, stunned. How does this always happen? He takes someone on a date, and eventually, they attack him. He figured it had something to do with him being famous and all, but was it possible he was truly attractive? Well, of course he was. He was a grown man, had that cool, messy hair style going, brilliant green eyes, a firm, muscular physique, was the star of England's Quidditch team, and he'd defeated the most powerful wizard of the age. Yes, he had a few things going for him. "Oh... shite... don't stop." Wow, Hannah is good with her mouth.

"Just getting warmed up, Harry. You just relax. It's time someone lets you have it easy," Hannah said thickly.

"If you insist..." he agreed.

Two hours later, Harry was at the door giving her a kiss. "Thanks for coming over tonight," he said sweetly.

"Any time, Harry," she said softly. Then, in a serious voice, she asked, "This won't make things awkward for us, will it? I mean, I don't want to lose you as a friend. I just don't know what came over me."

Right then. So, she's not asking for anything more. This always happened. What was it with women these days? They'd come have power sex with him and then shy off. And, he knew...really knew...that they enjoyed it. "Of course not, Hannah. I don't mind a little extra quirks to friendship." He winked and saw her shiver with delight.

"God, Harry, you are so sexy." She kissed him again. "Bye."

"Night." He closed the door. What the fuck? Good enough to shag but not date, eh? Was it something he did wrong? He sniffed his shoulder discreetly, noting his cologne. Well, at least I don't smell. Nah. He was good. He knew that. He'd have to ask Hermione about this. She would know what to think. And just where the hell is she anyway? Her dates never last this long. Who was that bloke that had taken her out? He'd have to delve into the berk's mind the next time he picked her up to see what they'd been doing. He felt himself turn red. Yuck. Like he cared what they did. That was Hermione's personal business.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Harry, move over. I need to get in." Hermione's voice woke him. He moved an inch. She hit him with a pillow. "Push over, damn it!"

"All right." he said sleepily. "What's wrong with your bed tonight?" He pulled her down and made her giggle loudly. She landed neatly at his side, and he encircled her body with his arms.

"Crookshanks had a go on my sheets again. I'm too tired to think straight. I'd rather deal with it in the morning," she murmured sleepily. "You have a good date?"

"It was nice," he said, half asleep.

"So, you evil prat! Did you take advantage of Hannah?" He could hear the taunt in her voice.

"More like she took advantage of me." He yawned. "What of your date with whatshisface?"

"Boring. Long." She took his hand from her waist and kissed it. "Night, Harry."

"Night, Mione," he mumbled, falling into a dreamy state. It wasn't long before a nightmare came to him.

He saw Hermione crying over Ron's lifeless form. He tried to get to her, but he could hardly move. "Harry, why did you kill him?" She was crying.

"I didn't!" he called. "Let me save him." Ron's body turned into Voldemort's, and his ruby slits opened. Harry heard him cackling harshly as he began to choke Hermione. "No! Leave her alone!" He couldn't get to her. The more he ran, the farther away she became. "Mione!"

He sprang to a sitting position, panting heavily. Hermione was at his side, candle lit. "Harry, are you all right?" She seemed worried. "I tried to wake you." He ran a hand through his hair and found it damp with perspiration.

"I'm ok," he finally managed, remembering her face as she was being strangled. She pulled him close to her and held him until his breathing subsided.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked softly. He shook his head and let her pull him back down after she extinguished the candle. He went back to sleep with her head on his chest. At least he knew she was safe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oi! You've been in the shower too long, Mione! It's my turn! Get on with it!" he yelled through the bathroom door. No response. Damn! His bladder was about to burst. "To hell with this!" he said. "I'm coming in." He walked in. She was still in the shower. He could just barely make out her naked body behind the shower curtain. "Nice view," he called, whistling.

"What do you need, Harry?" She laughed. "Trying to get a peek, are you?" She poked her head out just as he began to urinate. He looked at her pointedly.

"Who's trying to peek now?" He grinned. Her face turned red, and she quickly ducked back behind the curtain. Women! Not like she hasn't seen me before. They always ran about barely dressed on most evenings. No big deal. He brushed his teeth while he was there and went off to start breakfast.

He felt like having omelets. Summoning all he needed, he said a couple of spells so that they could cook themselves as he made coffee. "Morning," she said minutes later.

"Wow, you look great. Where are you off to on a Saturday?" he asked, eyeing her new dress.

"Oh, I've promised Mum I'd take her to lunch. I thought I'd stop in at the library first though to pick up some books for my research on that Love Potion Detector," she said in one breath. "Smells good."

"Thanks," he said, handing her a cup of coffee. Black. Just as she liked it. He added healthy portions of sugar into his own. She put the omelets onto plates and set the dirty dishes to wash themselves.

"Come here, and tell me about your night," she said, picking up the morning edition of the Daily Prophet.

"Well, everything was nice. We ate, sat by the fire sipping wine, and talked a bit. Then, she says she has a backache. Well, being the good Samaritan that I am, I offered to give her a backrub." He sipped his coffee. "Next thing you know, she was on me saying I needed to relax. Then," he paused to sip his coffee, "an hour or so later, she left."

Hermione grinned and shook her head. "What's the problem then?"

"How do you know there was one?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You told me it was nice. That means, Harry, that you got shagged, but you're not happy about it." She smiled.

How did she do that? Just picked up on things without him having to say much. "Well, I think something is wrong with me. I mean, they don't even try to date me, girls. I kissed her goodnight, and she was on about making sure she was still my friend." He sighed dramatically. "Told me I was sexy and took off." He shrugged. Perhaps it was his cologne! He noticed the grin on her face. Know something I don't, eh? "What?"

"Surely, Harry, you must know." She smirked. "You appear to be untouchable to women. I mean, no girl in her right mind would think that you would actually settle for her, so she settles for a shag, thinking its all you'd want to give her."

He screwed up his face in disbelief. He could have nearly any woman he wanted. He now frequented Witch Weekly's cover for receiving a Most-Charming-Smile Award, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't settle down with someone given the chance. "So they don't even give me a chance then. Just assume I don't want them for the long haul! That's unreal!"

"Harry, name one girl that you've said those three little words of love to." She drummed her fingers impatiently.

He thought for a long while. Nobody, save one. "Well, you, but I must have told someone else." He brought to mind his past encounters with his friends, and nothing so intimate had been said.

"Uh-huh. Just as I thought. Only one you've told is me. Now, of all the girls you've dated, how many did you really want to see again anyway?" She raised her eyebrows knowingly before biting into her omelet.

"Well, quite a few actually," he said triumphantly. When she ignored him further, he said, "And I saw most of them again." That would show her. She couldn't analyze him like some research project.

Her laughter stopped his victory calls short. "Harry!" She rolled her eyes. "When you saw them again, did you happen to mention that you fancied them in that way? I mean, did you try to explain that you'd like something more and let them know you'd eventually like to wake up with them every morning?"

What the hell? "Well, no, but why should I have to say it? I mean, most times things get too hot to think of anything, but what's happening at that moment." He grinned. "And, as far as waking up with any of them, sorry, I'd have to pass, thanks. I like having my own space in the morning."

"Then, you've never truly found anyone that you could love." She patted his hand to reassure him. "Keep looking. You'll find her."

"Well, thanks for that chat, Mione. It's all clear to me now," he said sarcastically.

She shook her head in exasperation. "Hannah. Do you see yourself being with her again?"

"Oh, yeah. She's got this little technique with her tong..."

She made a face. "Yuck, Harry. I don't need to know all of that. What I mean is, when you think of seeing her again, do you see yourself sitting down lovingly, talking about your future, and cuddling while watching some Muggle program on the telly?"

"No, but I can see her in the shower all lathered up. Does that count?" He panicked when he saw her annoyed expression. "Hang on! That's cuddling, Mione!"

She sighed. "Harry, one day it will hit you. You'll be with someone, and she won't be impressed with your past or your Quidditch skills." He snorted. "What?" she asked indignantly. "There are girls out there who will love you for what's inside, and until you find one, you won't be all that good at intimacy I'm afraid."

"Hey, hey. I have no problems with intimacy, thanks," It was his turn to be indignant.

"I'm not talking about sex. I'm talking about love. Little things. Holding your lover without any sex. Making love to a girl with your eyes and not your... your... you know... him." She blushed. He knew she was thinking about seeing him naked in the loo earlier.

"I can do that just as well, Mione. It's just..." He shrugged uncertainly. "They never try for anything more. All is going well and bam! We're in bed." He looked to the fireplace. "Or we're on the floor...whatever is nearby."

"Harry, have you ever just held a girl? I mean no sex, just holding her next to you." She drank the last of her coffee and sent the cup to the sink to wash itself.

"Well, I know one girl that has taken a liking to sleeping with me." He grinned. How many nights a week did she crawl in with him? Often. "I never touch you that way though."

She laughed. "Not me, Harry. A girl!"

"Last I saw, you were a girl. That has to count for something!" He wriggled his eyebrows. "You looked pretty sexy this morning."

She laughed. "You are a piece of art, I tell you. You just don't get it. I mean, any of your dates, not me!" She waved her hands wildly as she spoke.

"No," he said softly. Not a one. Nobody had ever been invited to stay the entire night. He'd never protested when they began fumbling for their clothing.

"Try it out. The next time the opportunity presents itself, get her to stay with you. See how it feels." She stood up and walked around to his side of the table. "Do you want to come with us today? It'll be fun."

"Nah. I'll go out and see what Ron's getting himself into. Thanks though, baby." He turned to face her. "Have a good day." She kissed his lips softly and ruffled his already messy hair.

"Your loss." She smiled and left.

Damn! Hermione knows just how to get to a bloke, doesn't she? Incapable of intimacy, was he? He'd have to prove her wrong. Off to Ron's house first though. He'd pass this theory by his friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Harry!" Luna greeted dreamily. "So long since you've come out. Ron's just inside in the living area." He smiled at Ron's very pregnant wife. It wouldn't be much longer before another little Weasley came into the world.

"Thanks, doll," he replied, winking. She blushed. As he walked to the room, he paused. He'd caught himself. No wonder women thought he was out for one thing and nothing more. He was nothing but a damn flirt. "Oi there, mate!" Ron greeted him. Ron's living area was full of Muggle items, such as old sports magazines and books. He had always been fascinated with the nonmoving photos and the seemingly boring games they played.

"Ron, I have a problem," he said suddenly. Ron nodded to the chair next to him. "Well, here it is." He told Ron everything that he'd told Hermione and all that she'd said to him.

"You're mental, you know."

"What?" Harry asked incredulously.

"You don't see it, do you?"

"Er...see what?"

Ron sat in thought for a moment. "Harry," he said slyly. "Haven't you and Hermione ever... shagged?"

Harry did a double take. "No way, Ron!" He felt his face heat up. "Hermione is not like that!"

"Well, I just thought you may have. What, she's been living there for three years now?"

"Four, thanks. What are you playing at, Ron?" Harry asked awkwardly. "She's... she's Hermione."

"Harry, I wonder about something. Why is it that Hermione never dates anyone?" Ron asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Waiting for you, if you ask me."

"She does too date! Had one last night, she did!" Harry nodded. "That's right. Some guy from her work asked her out."

"And, er, did they shag?" Ron asked, enjoying the narrowing of Harry's eyes.

"Of course not! He bored her to death. Came home right after," Harry said, defending Hermione's honor. "She's not that sort."

"Ah, but how do you know they didn't? I mean, she could have sneaked him into her room last night." Ron grinned evilly.

"She did no such thing!" Harry said hotly.

"All worked up there, aren't you, mate?" Ron laughed. "I'm just saying that you would never know."

"She slept with me! That's how I know!" Harry blabbed. Mistake. Shit!

Ron's eyebrows raised suggestively. "Slept with you, did she? Does that often, eh?"

Harry grinned. "Not what you're thinking, Ron. It's different with Hermione. I mean, we could be totally naked and not do anything."

"You still sleep starkers, Harry?" Ron asked slyly.

"Yeah... so?" Where was Ron going with this? "Most nights I do. Depends."

"Were you starkers, mate?"

"Yes, I was. It was hot, and Hannah had got me..." Harry stopped. "Oi! What the hell are you playing at?"

"So, slept all night right there with Mione, did you? Not a stitch of clothes on. Sounds a little too comfortable if you ask me. Don't you feel strange about that, mate?" Ron took a long drink from his goblet. "I mean, didn't you FEEL anything?"

"No, I didn't. See! That proves it! There's nothing between us. We sleep all night and nothing happens, and anyway, this is not about Hermione. It's about me, and this problem I have of turning women away without realizing that I'm doing it."

"You don't turn Mione away though, and don't give me that rubbish about her being your best friend. Think about it. The only woman you are intimate with is her. I'd say the only reason you don't make a move to have her in that way is because you are afraid of losing her. I'd say that if she came home and told you to marry her, you would." His friend's eyes went wide, as if he'd seen the truth. Ron patted Harry's shoulder. "Welcome to the wide world of love, Harry. You love her and don't know it."

Harry sat in stunned silence. Hermione. The only girl that he'd ever said words of love to. The only girl he could hold all night, feel good about it, and not feel as though his space had been invaded. The only girl he'd never mind waking up to everyday. But how did that happen? Did he love her? It could be. But she didn't return the feelings. Always trying to push me off on other women and give me tips!

"All right, Harry?"

"Ron, you might be on to something. I never thought about it that way before." He smiled sadly. "The one girl I might be interested in that way honestly, and she would never return my feelings."

"Mate, I'd say she does. She's just like you though. Won't mention it, thinking it could never be. It's why she never really has anyone. Nobody would be you. I see her looking at you sometimes. Been best friends so long, maybe you both mistake deep love for that of friendship." Ron downed the remainder of his drink. "Talk to her, mate."

Suddenly, Harry was nervous. He couldn't talk to her about this. He couldn't deal with rejection. Not rejection from her. There was no way she felt the same, was there? He sighed. Maybe he would have to mention it to her. Talking would be the only way to find out for sure. If no feelings were returned, then he'd move on, continuing his quest for the perfect woman. "I think I'll be off now. Got some plans to make."

"Let me know how it goes!" Ron called after him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Harry, why are you sitting here all alone? No lights. Telly off," Hermione asked, concern filling her eyes. "Are you drunk?"

He downed the last of his scotch. "Not yet, but I will be."

She kicked off her shoes. "Unzip me," she said, turning to him. He reached up and pulled down her zipper just a bit. She edged out of her dress and sat next to him, wearing nothing but her chemise and stockings. "Tell me."

"Accio scotch!" he said, summoning the bottle to him. He refilled his glass and took a drink. He did not meet her eyes. "Been thinking about our conversation earlier."

"Oh, Harry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just pointing out the obvious to you." She brushed back hair from his face. "What are you thinking of?"

"I had a conversation with Ron. Told him everything." He smiled sadly, still not meeting her eyes.

"And?" she pressed.

This is it. Now or never. He downed his drink and turned to face her. She looked so beautiful sitting there, scarcely dressed, brown eyes shining, hair hanging about her face. He brushed back a strand that was just over her eyes. "Mione... he thinks that I love you."

She blinked. "Harry, Ron is just trying to get you to look at all possibilities. Don't let him get you down."

"What do you think of me when you see me, Hermione? I mean, do you see me as England's Seeker, as Voldemort's killer..." He smiled softly. "Or am I just Harry to you?"

"I see you as Harry. You've always been just Harry to me. Where are you going with this?" She seemed uncomfortable.

"You told me that one day I would find a girl who thought that way about me, and only then would I be able to see myself capable of loving her." He hoped he got that part right. His memory was a bit foggy.

She smiled. "And you will Harry. I promise."

"I love you, Hermione. I never saw it for what it was. It's you that I could hold all night. It's you I could wake up to every day." There! He'd said it.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Har-ry. Ron has messed with your mind. There are so many other women out there more worthy of you. Don't let him confuse you."

"No. I'm not confused. I've been thinking about it for five hours now. It all fits." He looked at her hopefully. "I love you." He took her hand in his. "And, now I want to know, how do you really think of me?"

Seconds passed. Minutes passed. Dread filled his heart when she remained silent. He let go of her hand. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'll not bring this up again." He stood and walked to his room. What an ass he'd made of himself. And to Hermione at that! Now things would be awkward. He'd kick Ron's arse for making him think of her this way. Slowly, he pulled off his shirt and trousers. He left his boxers on. Didn't really want her to walk in on him going starkers yet again, now did he? Not now. She might think he'd purposely done it to entice her. He pulled back his blanket and lay down.

Hermione came to sit on his bed. "Harry?"

"Mmmm?" He couldn't face her, so he didn't turn towards her.

"I can't believe that you chose me of all people. I always thought of you as untouchable, so I pushed my feelings aside." She kissed his forehead softly. "I love you, as well."

That got his attention. "Is that right?" he heard himself ask seductively. It was as if another part of him took over, confidence regained. He moved over to give her room and pulled her into his arms to hold her.

"Yes," she said breathlessly. "I just think we need to think about this. This will change some things."

"Right. It will indeed. I think we'll need a one bedroom flat for starters." He chuckled. "I don't want to think of you off in your own room without me."

"Harry?" Her voice seemed unsure.

"Yes, love?"

"How does it feel to kiss the great Harry Potter?"

He could feel her shaking. This was new. He'd not ever seen when she'd been so unsure of herself, aside from the times when they were to take their exams. He didn't even answer. He brought his lips to hers gently, and when her lips parted, his tongue plunged in. He'd never felt anything like it. Just the intimacy...yes, there was that word again...was unbelievable! It was as if that one kiss could say everything that they were feeling. No words necessary. The need to explore her neck pulled him away from her mouth. He felt her hands exploring his back, heard her whimper blissfully. One of his hands snaked its way up her thigh under her chemise and worked it up over her chest. He cupped a breast and brought his mouth to her waiting, hardened peak. God, but she feels so soft. His other hand was working the chemise over her head. His tongue lazily made its way to her other breast while one hand began exploring her thighs.

She whimpered as one of his fingers penetrated her. He pumped it in and out, spreading her wetness. She arched into his ministrations and moaned slightly. She's ready for me now. We've waited so long. I will have her. He laved at her stomach, leaving no spot untouched. He worked his way out of his boxers easily as his mouth trailed its way back up to hers. He loved how her mouth felt beneath his. So soft. So giving. She began to squirm under him when he'd brush his thumb over her plump little nub, and he could feel that she was ready for him. Not breaking their kiss, he nestled between her legs, and he felt as though he was right where he belonged. Nibbling on her chin, he brought his eyes in contact with hers. Her lids were halfway open, and she smiled lovingly. He guided himself to her entrance and pushed into her tightness partially. Her eyes widened, but she shifted to grant him easier access. "I love you," he whispered in her ear before nipping and plunging all the way in.

"Ah..." she cried out and clawed at him.

Hang on! She's a virgin. Damn! He wished he would have known. He could have... he would have... He'd not have done anything differently. This was perfect. He began to move slowly and pulled back just a bit to stare into her eyes. Once they fluttered closed, he busied himself with her breasts while stroking slowly. When he felt her moving a bit faster, he increased his speed. He'd wait for her all night if he had to. Before long, however, she was arching against him, trying to find a rhythm. He suckled her neck savagely, lowered his hand to her center to stimulate her further, and felt her nails clawing lines down his back...this time in pleasure. He groaned and thrust upwards, deeply, quickly. She was now meeting him stroke for stroke. "Oh, Harry." She exploded under him. He grinned knowingly. With just a few more strokes, he joined her.

He lay at her side running his hand over her stomach gently, waiting for her to find her voice. She finally turned to him and kissed his lips softly. "I love you, Harry." He grinned broadly, feeling like he'd felt when he received those real Christmas gifts for the first time. He'd never felt this way about anyone. He'd have to thank Ron. Later though. Much later.

"Will you marry me, Mione? If not now, one day?" he asked suddenly. Where the hell had that come from?

"Asking so soon?" she blurted incredulously, almost whispering.

He thought only a moment before replying. "It's not too soon. It's too late. We should have done it years ago. I won't let you get away from me so easily. I want you to make an honest man out of me."

"I will," she agreed. "I'll never leave you. Always cherish you."

He kissed her once more. "Mione, I never knew that you had never made love to anyone. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just thought you knew somehow. Is that all right?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I like it, but I feel odd. Do you not feel uncomfortable that I've been with those other women? You know about all of them. Details even." He sighed. Now, he wished he'd never had told her about them.

Pulling him closer, she whispered in his ear. "I don't care about them. They had your body, but I have your heart. Make love to me again."

"With pleasure," he said smiling. In the matter of one day, he'd gone from thinking he'd never find anyone to love him to realizing he'd always had someone loving him. His beautiful Hermione.

Southern's Notes: This is a story I wrote last year. It's only intended to be a quickie, so it's not very descriptive, etc. I can tell the difference between my writing then and my writing now. Ah, well. I thought I'd share. I love the way Harry was a bit cocky in the story, and I'm giggling at the cheesy ending. teehee...

I have the last part to add to complete the trilogy and will do so sometime within the next few days. It's titled "Hermione's Problem" and is her POV of events.