Ron and Ginny take all the kids out on Halloween because they know the Wizarding traditions better, and both realise Harry still struggles on this night and that only Hermione can ever really get through to him. They will all be gone for hours, with Molly throwing a small party later on, and Hermione is glad for the peace and quiet when they disappear into the fireplace in their costumes, adults and children alike. Harry is sitting on her couch, the smile he has plastered on for the benefit of his children slowly slipping away. What is left behind is an angst ridden young man who peers up at Hermione as though pleading for her to make it stop. No one wants to remember the day their parents were murdered, and Harry certainly hates remembering everything else that comes with this day for him.
He reaches out a hand to her, and she smiles softly while taking it, pulling Harry up from the sofa and leading him to her bedroom. The minute they cross the threshold Harry is turning her around and pinning her to the door. Hermione grins, not making a sound because she expected it, and allows him to kiss her neck and bite gently at her skin. It isn’t enough to leave a notable mark but just enough to make Ron think twice.
Harry’s hands wander under her robes, fingers pressing hard into her cool skin, making her gasp and arch off the door with a sigh of his name. They stumble towards her bed, tripping over the left over orange material Hermione used on Hugo’s outfit and Harry chuckles as he flops down onto his best friend’s bed and lets the other man’s wife crawl on top of him. He can’t bring himself to feel guilty. This is the little that he takes back after giving so much. He had fought a war for a world that thought he was crazy and then married the girl people expected him to in order to fit in, make them happy, and it is only later that he realises he should have just upset them all and married the girl he wanted. The woman he needed.
He loves Ginny, he does, and he would never swap his children for anything but he is not in love with her and when it comes to the woman who has always been there for him and loved him unconditionally it has always been Hermione.
They shed their robes and then Harry is inside her, nipping at her earlobes softly until she moans and wraps her legs around him, encouraging him to press deeper, harder. Ron or Ginny could return at any moment and it makes Harry’s adrenaline flow. It makes him giddy, and if there was anything he loved about the adventures of his youth it was the rush of his adrenaline when the walls were closing in around him. Hermione’s soft panting spurs him on, excites him, and he rubs the pad of his finger across her hard nipples and squeezes softly until she mewls and meets his gaze with hers.
Grinning, Harry tweaks her nipple again, harder this time, and she hisses through her teeth and frowns at him though he can tell she is just holding back a smile. He can feel himself getting close, wrapped up in the moment and the danger. Pressing her heel into his arse, Hermione grins and again pushes him to fuck her harder, quicker, and he does so with a smile. Harry doesn’t kiss her, because somehow that would make things too intimate, too much like an affair rather than just stealing what they need from one another when they can.
After it is over, he holds her close for a few minutes and then slips from the bed and pulls his robes back on, heads into her kitchen and makes a pot of tea like nothing ever happened. Hermione follows him a few minutes later and finds a packet of biscuits that are not covered in green or orange icing and with mini-broomsticks on. Harry talks about how even now, he can’t face celebrating Halloween, can’t forget how he lost it all on that day as a child. It wasn’t just his parents but his right to a childhood and a normal life as well. Hermione listens as she always does, nods in the right places and never tries to offer words of comfort because Harry just doesn’t work that way.
By the time Ron returns with Hugo sleeping on his shoulder and Rose swaying at his side, the biscuits are finished, the tea cold, and Harry is cheerful as he makes his way to the fireplace and goes home. Hermione makes love to her husband and hopes he doesn’t notice the marks Harry left behind, while Harry checks on his children before crawling into bed beside the wife that he doesn’t love and who now knows better than to touch him.