Platonic Affection

Platonic Affection

Pairings: Harry/Hermione, Ron/Luna, Draco/Ginny, and slight (Yes! I finally get to use it!) Dean/Seamus. Please don’t flame about the Dean/Seamus. It’s very subtle. You wouldn’t even notice it!

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.

……

“Look, over there!”

“Where?”

“Right there! The girl with the bushy hair!”

“You mean that girl standing next to that tall redhead?”

“The same! That’s her!”

“You mean she’s Harry Potter’s girlfriend?”

…….

Harry woke up with a sudden crick on his neck, a result of sleeping on it wrong. Because of this he had woken up cranky and did not want to bother with breakfast in the Great Hall. The wizard groaned and turned on his back, covering his eyes with his hands.

“Harry?” Ron asked cautiously, “Are you all right? Is it another dream with You-Know-Who?” Ron’s eyes widened with both fear and worry as he opened the curtains from Harry’s four-poster bed.

Harry shook his head. “No, it’s not a dream with Voldemort,” the brunette retorted, looking up at Ron. He pulled his covers over his body until they covered everything but his eyes and above. “My neck is sore. I think there’s a knot in it, or something.”

“Maybe you should go to Madam Pomfrey,” Ron suggested. “I know that it’s not serious like a Quidditch accident, but it’s something.”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugged. Then he thought about it. “Nah, it’s better if I don’t go to the Hospital Wing. If I hear Madam Pomfrey groan one more time once she takes a look at me, I just might have to kill myself. Besides, I like it better when it’s massaged. Maybe I could ask Hermione.”

Ron gave Harry a skeptical look. “Hermione?”

Again, Harry shrugged. “She’s done it before, and she does it really well,” he told Ron. “There was this one time where my shoulder was really stiff so she had her mum buy a book on how to massage. She’s quite the expert, our Hermione,” he said fondly.

“So, she’s touched you?” Ron asked stupidly.

“Yes,” Harry answered slowly, “it’s what people do when they massage you.”

“But she’s touched you?” the redhead repeated, emphasizing ‘touched’. His blue eyes were wide; they were filled with shock and impression.

“For Merlin’s sake, Ron! It’s not like she massaged my arse!”

“Who massaged your arse, Harry,” a voice that belonged to Seamus called.

Ron and Harry looked up. “You really have the worst timing, mate,” Ron muttered, but he said it loud enough that Seamus heard it.

Seamus grinned. “Hey, what can I say? I can’t be perfect!”

Harry rolled his eyes, and pulled the bed sheets over his head. “Can you two go away now, so I can suffer my pain alone?” he asked angrily in a muffled voice.

“Harry, you’re in pain?” Neville asked who had just woken up and heard the three talking. “Is it that serious? Should you go to the Hospital Wing?”

The raven-haired teenager groaned once more. “No, it’s not serious,” he replied crossly. “There’s no need for the Hospital Wing!”

“Someone’s at the Hospital Wing?” Dean asked worriedly. “Are we going to visit that person? Do I know that person?”

Harry sat straight up, an annoyed look on his face. “No, Dean! There is no one at the Hospital Wing!”

All four of Harry’s dorm mates looked away and Seamus even muttered, “Cranky, much?”

Harry protested, “I’m not cranky!” They all gave him a disbelieving look. “Okay, I am cranky, but it’s because of my fucking neck!”

“Harry,” a familiar voice scolded, “watch your language!” Harry and his dorm mates turned to face a frowning Hermione Granger resting her hand on her hips.

“Sorry, Hermione,” he apologized sheepishly.

“It’s not me you have to apologize to,” Hermione reminded him. The bushy-haired witch gave Harry a look that made him so guilty that he immediately apologized.

“Sorry, guys,” Harry said. “I know my sore neck shouldn’t be an excuse for my behavior.” He hung his head, his neck in immense pain.

“Someone’s whipped,” Seamus whispered in a sing-song voice.

“Shush, Seamus,” Dean ordered. Seamus shut his mouth instantly.

Hermione gasped. “Harry, your neck is sore? Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been like this?” She rushed over to Harry and sat cross-legged beside him on his bed.  Hermione touched his neck, and he gasped in pain, flinching at the physical touch. “Stay still; do you want me to massage your neck?”

Seamus, Dean, Ron, and Neville all snickered. Harry would’ve turned to glare at them, but his neck hurt too much. Hermione brought her attention to Harry’s dorm mates. “You can all leave for breakfast,” she told them. “Ron, you too. We won’t be long. I’ll just massage it for a bit, and then we’ll head down and meet up with you.”

“You know,” Seamus said to Harry and Hermione, “if you two really wanted to spend some time alone, you didn’t have to make up a stupid excuse like your neck was hurting. You could have just told us. I think every teenage boy understands sexual frustration.” Dean smacked him upside the head.

“Sorry,” Dean said fearfully when he saw Harry and Hermione glare the scariest glares ever. “Seamus is just being a prat.”

“I-suggest-you-leave-,” Hermione seethed, her cheeks the most possible red.

The boys scrambled out the door, but not before Seamus winked at the two.

Hermione shook her head in disappointment. “Honestly, boys can be so stupid.”

“Hey,” Harry protested, “not all boys are bad. There are some good guys.”

Hermione smiled as she continued to massage his neck. “Of course, there are some good guys. There’s Terry Boot,” Harry visibly stiffened, “and Crookshanks.”

“Hey!”

“And you too,” she told him earnestly. “Sometimes Ron…when he wants to.” 

Harry eased up after that. He closed his eyes, leaning into Hermione’s touch. “You give the best massages, you know that, right? They are the absolute best.”

Hermione smirked. “I wish I could say the same for you,” she teased. When Harry didn’t respond, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? Nothing was wrong. In fact, for Harry, this was perfect. He had a best friend with him and he was comfortable. What could be better than that?

“Nothing,” he replied. “Everything’s perfect.” They both smiled.

Hermione remarked, “Why is it always you who gets hurt?”

“Because the fates are out to get me,” Harry responded, almost sincerely.

Hermione massaged his neck in silence, both of them pondering about fate.