Keeping with the Company

Keeping With the Company

by coven

Rated PG-13

Hermione offers her best friend Harry a place to stay after a girl discards him. Harry accepts, knowing that the arrangement is indefinite until he finds a suitable place for himself. But things take a strange turn when they both find out that keeping each other company is turning out to be a permanent thing after all.

Disclaimer: This is a Harry Potter fan fiction. Standard disclaimers apply.

Sorry for the delay and this short chapter. The holidays came rushing in and I got caught in it. Anyway, thank you again for all your reviews! Happy holidays, everyone, and blessed be.

Chapter 6: Love Struck

Hermione was still flustered by the time she arrived at Ron's shop in Diagon Alley. Naked-Harry was still on her mind and she hated the fact that even if she had found the thought disturbing, it had excited her too. Oh, she was no prude, and at her age it wouldn't be surprising to know that she had had her share of lovers, even if they were indeed few and very far between. But, thinking of Harry…

She had known him for sixteen years and had seen him in various states of undress. She did admit that on a physical level, there was nothing wrong with him. At twenty-seven, he was at his prime. His former boyish good looks had refined with maturity. His hair, which had never been tame, still gave him a jagged appeal. Thank Merlin for quidditch's rigorous training, or otherwise there would be no muscles for Hermione to admire secretly.

Her mouth ran dry at this. Okay, she undeniably had that habit of checking Harry out, but that didn't mean anything right? It just meant that she was a perfectly normal, healthy female who appreciated the opposite sex. Was it her fault if Harry had a wonderfully tight arse?

“Miss Hermione?”

Hermione snapped back to her senses.

`Where am I?' she thought. `Oh, at Ron's shop.'

Quickly shutting the mental file she was going through a while ago, she turned to Becky, Ron's shop assistant. She grimaced and judging by the concerned look on the young girl's gamine face, she realized that she must had been standing there a little too long to merit Becky's concern.

“Hello Becky,” she said hurriedly re-arranging her facial muscles to a smile. “How are you?”

Becky smiled back.

“It's all peachy, Miss,” she replied. “But is there anything wrong? You looked much preoccupied a while ago.”

Hermione laughed.

“No,” she said. “It was just something work-related that I couldn't get out of my head.”

“I hope it's something that you don't lose sleep over for,” Becky said gravely. “I remembered when a hundred galleons went missing from the cash register. I was so worried that the Boss would fire me, and I needed the job to pay for my school supplies on my last year at Hogwarts. I hated it when my Slytherin Potions partner teases me over my hand-me-down tools. I really don't know why Professor Snape would partner a Slytherin with a Hufflepuff, or with any other student from a different House… And oh yes, I desperately wanted to keep the job, what when the Boss and the Missus have been so kind… Oh, me and my wandering mouth! That must be heavy. I'll get that for you…”

Hermione surrendered the box of brownies she had in one hand to the girl, her head still whirling from Becky's non-stop chatter.

“Thanks,” she said gratefully. “Where are the boys?”

“The Boss and little Artie went out for a while,” Becky said. “Don't tell the Boss Miss, but I'm glad for the little quiet time. Artie is really adorable but he talks like a magpie! And he keeps asking questions. How should I know why bananas are called bananas and not apples? I'm telling you Miss, I would be real glad when the Missus comes back! I heard the Boss say that it would be by… oh here comes Mister Harry, miss!”

“Cheers Becky, hello Hermione!”

Hermione who was amusedly listening to the rants of Becky suddenly froze. When did Harry's voice start sounding so deep and so… masculine?

`Because he is male, you twit!' said the voice in Hermione's head.

With a rather anxious smile pasted on her face, Hermione slowly turned and felt as if a car had ran her over. There was Harry, the same old Harry, wearing worn-out loose fitting jeans, a green collared shirt and flip-flops. But if he indeed were the same old Harry, then how come it was only then that Hermione noticed how the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles, or that his scar gave him a slightly dangerous appearance? She had always looked at Harry, but never did her heart give such a tremendously wonderful show of acrobatics as it was doing right now.

Hermione willed her hand from actually going up to clutch at her heart.

`This couldn't be!' panic surged through her. `It only happens in books… Oh you dunce!'

How could she have missed it? The symptoms were there- the dry mouth, the palpitations, the electricity in the air, the sudden change of her perception, and all these when Harry was around. Not to mention, the jealousy, the worries, the delightfully warm feeling when he would smile at her… How could she be such a ninny? The answer was there all along, and Draco had pointed it to her a million times. By gads she didn't know that the insufferable git had enough intelligence in him. Okay, okay… she didn't mean that. But…

She loved him! By Merlin's beard, she loved Harry!

`Oh my God… oh my God…' her muddled thoughts were screaming. `I'm going to castrate you Malfoy, and Viagra's the last thing you'll need when I'm done with you… Oh my God…'

The last thing she needed now was this complication. She had just gotten Harry back and having this new development in their relationship could just be the end of it. Instead of being happy over her realization, Hermione's heart plummeted.

“Hermione?” Harry asked a little worriedly. What was wrong with her? She had been staring at him with such a terrified look on her face. His excitement upon seeing her after what happened to him this morning was now doused with worry. What if…

“Cat got your tongue?” he said jokingly, hoping that humour could actually dispel the awkward air that hung in the shop.

`What did he say?' she thought. `Cats? Why would Harry talk about cats?'

“Huh?” Hermione said dumbly, too preoccupied with her thoughts. “Oh cat… no, Crookshanks is at the vet.”

“Hermione,” Harry said trying hard not to let his frustration show. “What are you talking about?”

Hermione, who was so much focused on staring at the second button of Harry's shirt, looked up.

“What?”

Harry stepped forward. Hermione stepped back in reflex. Harry stopped and sighed.

“Hermione, is there anything wrong?”

“Oh, the miss has something in her mind about work.”

The couple jumped at Becky's voice. Neither remembered that she was even there, standing where she was, Hermione's box of brownies still in her hands. Hermione wanted to hug the girl for rescuing her. What happened was so nerve-racking that she couldn't think coherently. If she were always like this during assignments, then she'd be dead by now. Cursing herself for her ineptness, she breathed deeply, expelled the air out and shook her head to clear her mind.

`Now, I'm ready,' she told herself. `Bring it on Potter, bring it on!'

Harry too felt mild relief. He had thought that Hermione noticed the change in him and knew how he now felt about her. It had almost sent him to a panic attack. Now, that was going to be funny. He smiled foolishly as he took in what Becky had said. So it was not really about him. Goodness knows that Harry Potter did have moments of insecurity, not to mention paranoia.

“Why don't you go on upstairs, Sir… Miss?” Becky tendered. “The Boss said that you could wait there just in case you got here before them.”

“Why don't we?” Harry said, smiling radiantly, glad that the uneasiness was gone.

`Crap,' Hermione's weak will cursed. `What a smile!'

“So how was your day?” Hermione said after finally being able to pull her wits together.

“Pretty much okay,” he said, a hand beneath her elbow and leading her up the stairs. He loved being so close to her. Hermione was never one to wear perfume, because perhaps she didn't need to. She smelled delightfully of lemon, cinnamon, and her own fresh scent. Harry inhaled deeply as her hair, still a little wet from the shower, was just a few inches away from him. He felt Hermione stiffen and soon chastised himself for his action. But what could he do when he was so close to temptation?

“Did you just sniff at me, Potter?” Hermione asked, her voice in mock indignation though in reality she wanted to scream in a combination of thrill and frustration.

“No,” Harry lied, crossing his fingers behind him. “I was just breathing. I probably breathed too much.”

Hermione shrugged and sat down on the couch. Harry on the other hand, helped himself to two bottles of lager from Ron's office-fridge. He handed one to her, to which she nodded her thanks. He sat on the windowsill looking at her as she was busy browsing through a magazine. There was something uncanny about the afternoon. Harry could swear that Hermione was acting peculiar, or it could just be because he had changed his perception of her. He winced as he remembered the repercussion of this. All right, it was true he loved her. Except, his problem was if it was mutual. He could try to find the answer, but he was too afraid of the rejection that he was too sure to follow. There was also the friendship to think about. Of course, he knew that Hermione would not let anything ruin their seventeen years worth of friendship, and he also knew that if she would really have to let him down, she wouldn't let anything happen to it. However, he weren't too sure of his own reaction. He didn't know if he could stand not having her in his life, which would be the result if his sudden revelation of feelings wouldn't come out as expected.

Hermione could feel Harry's eyes on her. If it weren't for years of Auror training, she wouldn't be able to project the cool appearance she had at the moment. But unfortunately, training wouldn't be able to hide the violent beating of her heart.

“So what was bothering you?”

“Oh nothing,” Hermione answered after taking a sip from her bottle. “Just something about work.”

“Ah,” Harry replied knowingly. “The fertility doctor.”

She smiled wryly.

“Yes, something on that line.”

Harry stood up, set his bottle on the coffee table beside the couch, and sat beside Hermione.

“I see, so how is Mr. Smith?”

Hermione almost choked on her drink.

“I was hoping you wouldn't ask about it.”

Harry scowled.

“Why?” he asked. “Was it a death eater?”

Hermione shook her head.

“No. The tip was actually a little off,” she said then grinned as she remembered something. “But my gosh, I don't know whether to laugh or to be serious about it.”

Harry settled himself more comfortably on the sofa and took a swig from his bottle. “Then tell it either way.”

“It's about Mr. Smith.”

Harry made a face.

“Malfoy,” he said. “I should've known. What did that prat do now?”

“Well…” Hermione pondered over it. What happened to Malfoy was extremely hilarious, but it didn't mean she could just blab about the incident to everyone. Knowing Harry, he would tell Ron and the two would never stop teasing Draco about Viagra for the rest of his life. She even chided herself for even mentioning it. If she were attentive in the first place, then she wouldn't have blurted it out. Harry looked immensely curious right now and he could be and actually was as obstinate as Draco if he wanted to.

`Bad judgement Hermione,' she egged herself. `Bad judgement!'

“On second thought,” she said abruptly. “I'd rather not talk about it.”

Harry grunted.

“What! Just when things are actually getting juicy… That is so mean of you, Hermione!”

Hermione shrugged and returned to the article on vampires she was reading. That is, until the magazine was rudely yanked from her hands.

“What the fuck…”

“Tsk, tsk,” Harry threw the magazine on the coffee table and wagged his finger at her. “Ms. Granger, no foul language. Go on, continue with your story.”

“I said no,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “It's not my secret to tell.”

“Aha!” Harry's eyes glimmered roguishly. “Something to frame that ferret!”

Hermione put her hands on her face and counted silently. What kind of trouble did she get into now?

“So? It's only Malfoy. Tell!”

“No!”

“Aww,” Harry mocked-sulk. “I didn't know you were such a tease.”

“Aww,” Hermione mimicked. “I didn't know you were such a gossip.”

“Hermione,” Harry was smiling devilishly now. “Didn't you say a while ago that I could call the shot?”

Hermione remembered and let out a small, `Eep!'

Harry made a sound of triumph.

“Be careful of what you promise people, Hermione.”

“Oh stop it Harry,” Hermione swatted his hand. Harry only wiggled his eyebrows at her. She definitely did not like where the episode was leading to. She edged a little towards Harry, hands clasped together in front of her. “Can't you just pick another way of retribution? Please?”

Harry pretended to mull it over.

“Absolutely Hermione,” he said innocently. “How about - this!”

It should have warned her. She gasped as Harry lunged at her, his fingers tickling at her sides, and her neck.

`If I only had my wand…' she thought in despair.

“Stop… it… Harry!”

“Not until you surrender.”

“Never!”

“Ah, to the torture chamber it is!”

Hermione screamed as Harry, with one hand, pinned her arms above her head on the sofa, and continued tickling her at the sides with the other.

She should have known what Harry was about to do. He had done this many times before. But since Hermione now knew that she loved him, it was completely different. And this was what she was afraid of. Instead of enjoying the formerly harmless game of tickle-war, she was now aware of Harry's closeness, his scent, and the feel of his hands on her body. And it was pure torment. She didn't want it to be this way.

`Why couldn't you just stay put where you were?' she blamed whichever part of her was causing her all the trouble.

“I told you Dad, we should have knocked first.”

“I guess you're right again Artie my boy.”

Like a guilty couple, the two broke apart. Harry, who was more or less calm, grinned foolishly. Hermione, who looked absolutely horrified, smoothed her hair and clothes nervously. Ron wanted to laugh out loud but decided to do it later.

“Could we make this rate at least a PG 13 please?” he said to the two and to his son he ordered, “Artie, tell Becky to call your Uncle Fred for order confirmation. I forgot to tell her a while ago.”

Artie who was as smug-looking as his Dad whined, “Do I have to Dad?”

“Artie…”

“All right,” Artie yielded, but to his godparents added, “Hey Uncle Harry, Aunt Hermione, red looks really nice on you!”

Ron waited until Artie had scuttled out of the room. He faced his best friends, who for some reason had quickly sprung to the opposite ends of the sofa. He shook his head and was about to get lager from his fridge but decided to go for the brandy from his bottom desk drawer.

“Well, we're making a habit of this, huh?” Ron said as he poured drink into three glasses.

“Shush,” It was Hermione who got her tongue loose first. “It's not what you were thinking…”

“And what was I thinking?”

“That we were…”

“Spare me the horror of the details of whatever you were doing, please!” Ron dramatically looked upwards. “My god, is this what it will be like with Artie in seven years time?”

“Sorry Ron, really.” Harry decided to speak at last, more for Hermione's sake rather than his own. He thought she already sounded a little frustrated. “It was just a tickle-fight. She wouldn't tell me about this dark secret of Malfoy's…”

“Not this again,” Hermione cried out to Harry.

“Okay,” Ron gave each his or her glass. “The Malfoy tale can wait. Can you actually hear yourselves? You sound like a couple of teenagers!”

“That's an exaggeration Ron,” Hermione snorted. “Besides, as if you and Luna don't do it.”

“Aha,” Ron said folding his arms across his chest as he leaned on his desk. “There lies the difference Hermione-girl. We're married, while you and Harry are not.”

`I'm gonna kill you Ron,' she thought. `I'll ship Luna off to the Bahamas and I'll adopt Artie. But I swear I'm gonna kill you!'

“That's feeble,” Hermione shrugged, though positively seething.

“On the contrary, it is not. You see, I feel this unresolved sexual tension between the two of you.”

“Alright Ron,” said Harry, who unlike Hermione, was taking everything on face value. “Sex guru, what are you getting at?”

“Harry,” Hermione said through clenched teeth. “Our sorry-excuse-of-a-friend here wants us to have sex with each other.”

“Thank you, oh wise one!” Ron said, with a bow.

Harry stared at the livid expression on Hermione's face, now what?

“Now,” Harry said, thinking of something to say that could placate the girl. Although he did find the thought helpful to his cause, he couldn't just agree with Ron when Hermione looked like she would kill their best friend. “That would be impossible.”

Harry was puzzled as he saw Hermione frown and revert to her thinking-face.

“Look Dad,” Artie barged in the room, holding the box of brownies Becky must have given him. “Aunt Hermione baked us some brownies.”

“Saved by the boy,” Ron said. “You two are lucky.”

“Ron, you are such a ninny sometimes,” Hermione said, standing up from the sofa and to Harry said, “Imagine that, Harry. You and I…”

“Oh you bet I could just,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“Huh?”

“I said yeah,” he said with a weak smile. “Pretty improbable, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Hermione smiled back just as weakly. “Absolutely improbable.”