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.

Thanks to those who took time to review. Here is the next chapter! Unfortunately it ends once again, on a cliffy. I'll try to update faster, schedule permitting. Thanks again!

Chapter 8: Voices Carry

“What are you being so angry about?” Hermione asked viciously. “I don't get it why you have to shout just to get your point across!”

“Shut up!” Harry yelled back. “Let's cut to the chase.”

He stepped towards her menacingly.

“Okay, fine!” Hermione said, tilting her chin upwards challengingly, but it didn't prepare her for what Harry had in store for her.

Harry grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close to him. So close, that their foreheads were touching.

“Let go of me!” Hermione asked, trying to squirm away from his clinch, but Harry only tightened his hold on her. “What are you bloody doing, Harry James Potter?”

“This.”

It took a while before it registered on Hermione that Harry was indeed kissing her. Never, not even once, in her more x-certified dreams did it come close to this utterly dumbfounding, soul-searing moment.

“Let me in Hermione,” Harry whispered hoarsely against her lips.

“My God,” Hermione gasped, feeling his tongue gaining entrance to her mouth. She hanged on to at Harry's shoulders, for her knees had certainly turned to liquid. “You feel… so…”

“Hermione…”

“Hmm?”

“Hermione…”

“You're so…”

“Hermione…”

“Harry…

“Hermione, wake up!”

“What the… ouch!”

Hermione Granger, who had woken from her delicious dream in a start, had quickly bolted sitting up. It was beyond her lethargic reason to think that someone would be hovering over her. For sure, it wasn't her fault then if she had almost cracked Harry Potter's head open when she accidentally crashed hers to his.

“Oh my God Harry!”

“No… I'm… awake… Mrs. Weasely…”

Hermione gasped and leaned down from her bed over Harry's sprawled figure on the floor.

“I am so sorry, Harry,” she apologized profusely. “Are you okay… wait…”

Harry groaned and sat up, a hand on his aching forehead.

“I'm okay,” he mumbled.

Hermione scampered to get her wand from her side table and cast a quick spell on Harry.

“Better?”

“Wow, thanks and good morning to you too…” Harry said, slowly standing up. “Remind me not to startle you awake ever again. By the way, what was that about?”

“What was about what?” she asked, shrugging into her dressing gown.

“You tell me,” Harry said, casually sitting on her bed and trying to relish the warmth he could still feel there. “You were moaning.”

Hermione stopped in the middle of tying her hair.

“Oh…”

“I was already up when I heard you,” he explained. “I thought something bad was happening. Hey, I was so scared. When I took the liberty of barging in you were writhing and you look like you were in pain.”

“I… I was just having a… an improbable dream,” Hermione stuttered. Did he just say writhing?

“About?”

“I forgot already,” she evaded by walking to the bathroom to wash her face. “Er, was I really moaning? Did I say anything uhmmm… was I talking?

“Nothing intelligible really,” Harry answered, craning his neck to see if Hermione could see him. “You were just that… moaning.”

“Thank God,” Hermione muttered, patting her face dry with a towel. This was turning out to be a very big joke - on her. She looked at herself in the mirror, and cursed as she found herself quite pale. Well, it was better than the tell tale blush of embarrassment. Merlin's beard! If she wasn't in love with the bloke she could have just stated the truth to which they would probably tease and share a big laugh later. Unfortunately she was in love with him, and like anyone caught doing forbidden acts, she lied. Well, it wasn't really a lie, she just played with semantics a little. Today was the day to start on her little “covert mission” - as Draco had put it. Would she be able to pull it off? Only time could tell now.

“I'm a woman, hear me roar,” Hermione grunted. She made a face at her reflection and walked with a little more confidence back to her bedroom.

“Harry, what are you doing?”

Hermione stared as she caught his best friend with his head buried in her pillow. Harry guiltily looked up and hastily plumped up the pillow.

“I… was…,” he started trying to find an excuse that wouldn't sound stupid. “What's your shampoo?” He nearly kicked himself.

“Come again?” Hermione was still staring at him incredulously.

With his fingers crossed behind his back, he tried to finish the fib he started. “I was going to make your bed when I just smelled something on your pillow. I realized it was your shampoo - cinnamon?”

“You were sniffing my pillow?” Hermione asked, still not moving from the bathroom doorway.

“Uhmm… I love cinnamon,” he improvised weakly, feeling like it was McGonagall interrogating him.

“Harry…” Hermione's voice trailed as she walked towards him.

Harry could only stare as she came a lot closer. He felt his breath hitch and catch in his throat. What was she doing? He gulped as she stopped in front of him. With an innocent smile on her face that belied the very strange glint in her eyes, Hermione slowly lifted her hand. Harry watched in fascination as the long tapered fingers rested on his own that clutched her pillow.

“Harry…”

“Yeah?” he answered dumbly. It was no surprise there since it seemed that all blood from his head had gone some place else.

Hermione brushed his hand away and grabbed at her pillow. With a giggle, she said, “Go get your own pillow to sniff.”

“What?”

Hermione laughed.

“I said go get your own pillow to sniff,” Hermione repeated, pinching Harry's cheek playfully. “Hey, on second thought, let's get some breakfast I'm starving.”

XXX

Harry watched in disbelief as Hermione lavishly buttered her toast, and heaped a hefty amount of scrambled eggs and bacon on her plate. Was it just his imagination, or was Hermione acting a little seductive a while ago? He caught the playful child-like grin she was flashing at him from across the table, and mentally shook his head? Seductive? Hermione? If there was one thing that he found refreshing about Hermione was the fact that she didn't need to be pretentious to be beautiful. She could go out of the house even without make-up on. She could also just get away with a ratty shirt and tattered jeans, and she wouldn't care. She wasn't posturing, or trying too hard. She was just being Hermione! Seductive? It was just probably him and his overactive hormones.

He had woken up early that morning to prepare breakfast for her. He told Ron that he would find if he could be anything else other than a friend in Hermione's life. With the other girls, he just gave it a go and they were more than willing to tag along for the ride. But with her, he felt that it wouldn't be right. He knew because he had felt the need to woo her, to make her feel special, and to just basically love her. If it was going to take more than a week to make Hermione love him, he would still persevere. He had waited until this time to grasp it, and although he'd rather speed the process up, if waiting was the key to her heart, then Harry Potter would wait year if need be, just for that.

Yet, the picture of her in bed, moaning and writhing was way too much for him to handle. He didn't tell Hermione that he had been standing at her bedside, just watching her for a full minute before realizing why he was there in the first place.

“This is absolutely wonderful, Harry!” Hermione said in gratitude as she swallowed a bite of the bacon-and-egg meal. “I haven't had any decent breakfast for a long time now. I was always too lazy to cook, being alone and all. Why aren't you eating?”

“I think you're eating enough for both of us,” he said carelessly.

“Har-ry,” Hermione whined. “You're so mean… Oh my, are those your famous croissants? Gimme! Gimme!”

If there was one thing that Harry had to thank the Dursleys for, it was the fact that they had unknowingly taught him to cook. He had even used this skill more than once during his soul-searching days, as he would often get odd- jobs along the way.

Harry laughed at Hermione's excitement and just shoved the plate towards her.

“Where are you putting them away?” Harry asked.

“I exercise,” Hermione replied, as she put jam on her croissant. “Oh what a plonker!”

Harry instinctively put his knees together as Hermione began to lick dripped jam off her wrist.

He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, painfully.

“Is there anything wrong Harry?”

“Yeah, just not… uhm hungry,” he said. He just couldn't state the truth so Harry cursed mentally. Harry tried desperately to think of something that could alleviate his predicament. And he knew exactly what.

“So how is Malfoy?” Harry asked.

Hermione remembered what had transpired last night and suddenly felt hungrier.

“He's fine,” she said, swallowing.

“Is this something about the thing that you wouldn't want me to know?”

“Harry,” Hermione replied pushing her plate away from her, and getting her glass of pumpkin juice. “Not this again!”

“No,” he said in defence. “Honestly, I just want to know if it's about that.”

Hermione eyed him if he was indeed being honest.

“Well,” she said with a shrug. “If you must know… yes, it was about that.”

“Oh,” Harry's instinct was right after all.

“I know that look.”

Harry downed a glass of water.

“Hermione… I need to know…”

“What?”

He took her hand in his.

“Is Draco … I mean… Draco is…”

Rrring!

Hermione yelped at the sound. It was obvious that the moment was broken.

“Merlin's beard!” she said. “Wow, I'm so used to wizarding ways that I've almost forgotten the sound of a telephone. Harry, can you hold that thought for a sec?”

Harry couldn't decide whether to be relieved or vexed. He chose the first.

“Uhh… yeah…”

Harry mouthed a silent scream. He stood up and walked towards the sink. He turned the faucet on full blast and put his head under it.

“Ginny, oh my God!” Hermione's voice permeated through the kitchen. “Harry, it's Ginny!”

Harry turned the faucet off and shook his head. With water still dripping, he walked to the hall where Hermione stood, a hand on her hip while the other one cradled the phone.

“Hi Ginny!” Harry yelled.

“Harry what the…” Hermione said to Harry, motioning on the `wet look' he was sporting. “Harry says hi… No… he's still buff… Ginny says she'll kick your ass on your next game.”

“I'm not going to comment on that,” he answered, winking at Hermione who rolled her eyes.

“He's not commenting on that.”

“Hermione,” Harry tapped her on the shoulder. “I'll just get ready. I have training today.”

Hermione nodded.

“Catch you later Ginny!” Harry yelled as he walked towards his room.

“He says he'll catch you later,” Hermione repeated with a laugh. “Why use the phone?”

“Just wanted to,” said Ginny Weasely. “Something to tell Dad, you know, that I've used a `fellytone.' So…”

Hermione sat on a nearby stool.

“What do you mean, `so'?”

“I heard Harry's your new housemate.”

“My, my, word travels fast doesn't it?” Hermione answered dryly.

She heard Ginny laugh.

“Yes,” came her voice. “If the messenger is my brother.”

Hermione chuckled.

“Things never change, huh?”

“So…”

“There you go again,” Hermione insisted. “Can you please explicate that monosyllable further?”

“Anything NC 17 going on yet?”

“You're nuts,” Hermione exclaimed. “Of course there isn't any `NC 17' going on.”

“R?”

“No!”

“PG 13?”

“No…”

“That sucks,” said the girl on the other end of the line.

“Ginny, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Hermione, haven't you forgotten about my seventh year?”

“What's with your seventh year?” she asked, honestly baffled.

“My birthday, firewhiskey… ring any bell?”

“Oh bloody, fucking…” Hermione gasped.

“I see that it does,” Ginny laughed.

“Ginevra Weasely… have you told anybody about that?”

“No, I haven't” Ginny vehemently denied. “So have you done it yet?”

“No!” Hermione almost choked.

“But you have plans of doing so, right?”

“But… but… but…”

“You explicitly said that memorable night that quote `if given a chance that Harry Potter and I get to play house, I'll make sure he'll be my Daddy' and quote”

A mumbled “That was the firewhisky talking,” was Hermione's excuse.

“You're kidding right?”

“No!”

“Wait,” Ginny insisted. “Is any other guy lurking around?”

“No…” Hermione answered truthfully. How could there be? “It's just things are complicated right now.”

“How?”

“No blurting out yet, even Ron doesn't know about this,” Hermione whispered.

“Oh… something incriminating!”

“Ginny!”

“What?”

“Promise you won't tell anyone!”

“Jeez,” Ginny mumbled. “Alright, I promise.”

Hermione looked left and right.

“I just found out that I love him,” she barely whispered.

“What?”

“I said,” Hermione looked around again then continued a little above a whisper this time. “I just found out that I love him.”

“What?”

“Merlin, Ginny,” Hermione screamed, standing from the chair. “I said I fucking found out I love him!”

“Well, there's no need to curse!”

“Ginny Weasely!”

Ginny laughed.

“Kidding, Hermione…Well, finally Hermione Granger admits she likes Harry Potter. Hermione Potter, what a lovely name!”

“Ginny…”

Hermione sank back to her chair, drained.

“Do you know how long we've waited for this moment? Haven't you known that you loved him all this time? You wouldn't have made that comment drunk or not if you didn't.”

“Well, at that time it was just a crush and hormones.”

“But not this time, right?”

“Yeah,” Hermione said, playing with the phone's cord. “Not this time.”

“So how did you know?”

Hermione laughed hollowly.

“Draco.”

“Draco?” There was an incredulous tone in Ginny's voice now. “What about him?”

“He made me realize that I was in love with him the whole time.”

“Him being Harry. Let's make that clear.”

“Of course.”

“Oh wow, so you owe that git now?”

“I guess so,” Hermione shrugged. “After all he'd put me through.”

“Yes coach!” Ginny shouted. “Oh darn, this is ridiculous. Coach is raising hell already. I've got to go dear, but I want to hear every juicy detail of this.”

“Yeah, but don't forget about your promise.”

“Of course,” Ginny said abruptly. “About time, about time I should say. Oh whatever happens fill me in okay?”

“Yes, Mummy Ginny”

Ginny laughed.

“Have fun Hermione!” she said. “I'll be back soon. Do you know that Italy has some really fine men? Anyway, you have to tell me everything… Yes coach! What a slave driver! I'll see you then. Oh yeah, you love Harry right?”

“Yes I do,” Hermione said exasperatedly. “I love him like mad.”

She smiled as she heard her friend squeal.

“Word of advice though, make sure you get him. Snatch him and tie him up as soon as possible or else he'll get away like the snitch he chases.”

“You quidditch players you… go before you get thrown out for over chatting.”

“Ciao!”

“Bye…”

XXX

“I just found out that I love him…”

“Well, at that time it was just a crush and hormones…”

“Yeah, not this time…”

“Draco…”

“He made me realize that I was in love with him the whole time…”

“I guess so, after all he'd put me through…”

“Yes I do, I love him like mad…”

Harry couldn't do a thing but stare blankly at his sad reflection on the mirror.