Author's Note: Sorry for the clichéd chapter before, but I hope this makes up for it. Inspiration for this chapter comes from one of my current favorite songs, Coldplay's "The Scientist". Please read and review…
Chapter Seven
"The Scientist"
It had been nearly two weeks since the incident in Harry's bedroom. It was the incident that happened, but no one wanted to talk about. Oh, Harry and Ron were still speaking, as were Ron and Hermione. Harry and Hermione, well, that was quite another story altogether.
Ron felt as if he were dealing with divorced parents. He spent part of his time with Harry and part of his time with Hermione. As they didn't wish to be together, he was caught in the middle. He wondered if this was how Hermione had felt when he and Harry had that row in fourth year during the Triwizard Tournament.
The middle. Ron had found out fairly quickly in the past two weeks that the middle was not the best place to be. To be in the middle, you had to straddle both sides of the fence. To be on the middle, you were pulled and tugged in different directions. You didn't want to piss off one side to make the other side happy. No matter what you did, when you were stuck in the middle, you couldn't win.
What killed Ron was that it wasn't as if Harry and Hermione hated each other. It wasn't as if they'd had some knockdown, dragged out fight where horrible words were exchanged and things were done that seemingly couldn't be taken back. As much as he could gather, something had happened that caused Harry to pull away from Hermione. Something major must have happened because Ron knew how much Harry loved Hermione. It had seemed to him as if wild horses couldn't have pulled them apart.
In the past two weeks, he'd had a lot of time to think about this. He supposed he should be happy that their seemingly perfect relationship had encountered a bumpy path. It didn't though. He wasn't happy with this latest turn of events. It was obvious that they both still loved each other. They would ask how the other was doing and he'd give them each simple one word answers. He'd tell Hermione that Harry was okay. He'd tell Harry that Hermione was fine. He could see in their eyes that they wanted to know more, but didn't dare ask.
Truth be told, the simple fact was that both of his best friends were hurting. From what he could tell, they were hurting unnecessarily. This could all be cleaned up if they'd just get together in a room and talk it out. He wasn't sure of many things, but he knew that one thing for sure.
The problem, however, was that outside of classes, Harry and Hermione didn't stay in the same room together for very long. They'd almost developed a seemingly unspoken, perfect schedule for staying away from each other. Hermione ate her meals early. Harry would eat his meals late. Hermione arrived early in her classes; Harry made sure he was almost the last one to arrive. It was brilliant, if Ron did say so himself. If he didn't think they were both acting like stubborn idiots he'd congratulate them on it.
Two days before the Christmas holidays were set to begin, he found Hermione sitting in the library going over some Transfiguration notes.
"Good morning, sunshine," he said, taking the seat directly opposite her.
"Good morning," she said, grumpily.
"So, you never did tell me what you were going to do for Christmas. You going to go back home?" he asked her.
She looked up from her notes begrudgingly. "I'm supposed to. What about you?"
"Well, dad's taking his Christmas bonus from the Ministry and taking the whole family to Romania to visit Charlie," Ron said. "He couldn't get away, you know? And with us trying to make amends with Percy and all, she thought it real important for us all to spend Christmas together."
Hermione smiled. "That's great."
Ron nodded. "Yeah."
"So, what's Harry doing for Christmas?" Hermione asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but failing miserably.
"Harry? This would be the guy you said you were trying to forget? The one you said you were going to push out of your memory, totally and completely, one hundred percent and all that rubbish?"
Hermione slammed her book shut. "It wasn't my decision, you know! He was the one who walked away from me."
"Well, Miss Smarty-breeches, did you ever try and consider the reason why he walked away from you?" Ron asked condescendingly. "Honestly, top of the year and all you would think you would have picked up on it right away."
"Well, of course, I know what it is," she said angrily. "He's afraid that something's going to happen to me. He's being completely and utterly stupid and selfish and noble and trying to do his saving people thing again. There's nothing I can do, Ron. He's dug his heels in and that's it."
He laughed.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"It's just that the Hermione I know wouldn't have let something as arbitrary as that stand in her way," Ron said, winking at her. "Now, I know I'm not the particular brains behind our little trio, but if you listen, I might have an idea that just might help you."
She tried to look uninterested. "What sort of idea?"
"You want my help, then?" he asked, clearly relishing this turn of events.
"Not that I am asking for your help, mind you," she said, looking at him, "but say that I was, what did you have in mind?"
Harry helped Ron bring his trunk down to the common room. In a few moments, Ron would be leaving for the train station.
"Thanks, mate," Ron said, as they finally finished bringing his trunk downstairs.
"You're welcome," he said. "What have you got in here anyways? Dead body?"
"I confess," Ron said. "I did the world a favor. Inside this trunk, you will find Draco Malfoy bound and gagged. I'm going to set him off in Romania. Wait a minute. That would be totally unfair and cruel for Romania. I guess I'll let him loose in the Forbidden Forest before I go. If they ask questions, we never had this conversation."
"Your secret is safe with me," Harry said, looking around at a number of students that were gathering in the Common Room to head to the train station.
"Have you seen Hermione?" Harry asked, trying to look nonplussed.
"Yeah," Ron said. "Ginny and I said goodbye to her this morning. She had a Floo Connection back home to Atlanta."
Harry nodded.
"You sure you don't want to come along with us to Romania?" Ron asked. "You'll be all alone here. You know my parents would love to have you."
"No, thanks," Harry said. "I appreciate it. I'll be fine here. You should be with your family. Besides, I won't be alone. I'll have Hagrid here."
"And the Creevey brothers," Ron said. "Not to mention Snape. You're going to have a grand old time. I'm kind of jealous."
"Yeah, well," Harry said. "I slipped your Christmas present in your trunk. I also put some in there for your family."
"Thanks," Ron said. "Mum had me leave some stuff for you, too. She said not to open it up until Christmas morning or she'll hex you."
Harry laughed. At that moment, Ginny came running down the stairs. She was followed by her own trunk, which was floating behind her.
"Bloody hell," Ron said, smacking his hand to his forehead. "I should have thought of that! I always forget that we can do that."
"Come on, Ron," Ginny said. "We better get a move on."
Ron nodded. "Happy Christmas, Harry."
"You, too," Harry said. "I hope you have a great holiday, Gin."
"Thanks, Harry," she said. "You, too. Come on, Ron."
Harry watched as they hurried out through the portrait hole. For the first time since he'd been at Hogwarts, he was spending the Christmas holidays alone. He'd always had either Ron or Hermione or both of them to spend the holiday with. Now, he was alone. He couldn't dwell on it. He had gotten himself into this mess. He was going to have to live with this decision, regardless of how unhappy it had made him.
Only a handful of Gryffindors had stayed behind for the holidays. None of Harry's roommates had stayed behind. As a result, he was able to keep mainly to himself. He'd spent one of the afternoons with Hagrid helping him walk Fang in the Forbidden Forest and check on Grawp.
On Christmas Eve, he'd decided to catch up on some of his homework and spent most of the day inside his room. He was nearly ready to head down to the Great Hall for dinner when he heard a soft tapping on his door.
Wondering who in the world it could be and hoping it wasn't one of the Creevey brothers wanting him to play a game of wizard's chess or exploding snap, he walked over to the door and opened it. There was no one there. He felt a tug on his pants leg and looked down to see Dobby standing there.
He looked different. He still wore his tea towel, but around his neck, he wore a green and red bowtie. He wore a Santa cap on his head.
"Dobby!" Harry exclaimed, with a smile.
"Happy Christmas, Harry Potter," Dobby said, smiling broadly at him.
"Happy Christmas to you," Harry said. "What brings you here?"
"I is told by someone to bring you to the Room of Requirement at approximately six in the evening, Harry Potter, sir."
"Well, it's just past six," Harry said, looking down at his watch.
"Dobby is sorry for running late, but he and Winky had to help with the decorations and the food and Winky---she is getting into the eggnog a little too much and-"
"What's this about the Room of Requirement?" Harry asked him.
"I is supposed to be bringing you down there, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said.
"Well, that's great, Dobby, but I was just going to go down to eat dinner," Harry said.
"There will be dinner in the Room of Requirement," Dobby said, proudly. "Good food it is, too, Harry Potter."
"Who told you to bring me there?" Harry asked, intrigued despite himself.
"Dobby cannot say," Dobby said, his eyes twinkling. "But Dobby was told to
not take no for an answer, so Dobby said he would do as they asked. You have to come with me, Harry Potter."
"Oh, alright," Harry said, not having the heart to tell the house elf no. He seemed so proud of himself for having such a big task. Dobby had come through for him before, even if it had come at disastrous means. Hopefully, this wouldn't be the case now. So, he followed the house elf through the portrait hole and up the stairs to the seventh floor.
He tried to get the house elf to divulge the identity of the person who requested his presence, but Dobby's lips were sealed, so to speak. Oh, he spoke at length about house elf gossip as they made their way to the Room of Requirement, but he didn't divulge any information about why Harry was needed here and who wanted him there.
Harry racked his brain to think of who it could be. Ron wasn't here. He was in Romania. Hermione was in Atlanta and after his behavior toward her in the last couple of weeks; he seriously doubted she would have been the one wanting to see him. There was a small part of him worried that Cho Chang would be in there crying up a storm, ready to ream him out again for leading her on.
"Here we are, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said, proudly. "You is walking three times in front of the blank wall and concentrate, sir."
Harry looked at the house elf, quizzically, but did as he was told. Within moments, the door appeared. Dobby clapped his hands in excitement.
"Harry Potter, you must be going inside now," Dobby said. "It's your Christmas present."
"Uh, okay," Harry said, protesting a little as Dobby pushed Harry's legs forward. "Aren't you going to come in as well?"
Dobby shook his head. "I was told to bring you here and that is all, Harry Potter. I is needed to help Winky downstairs. She might be getting into the butterbeer again, and that would be most dreadful, Harry Potter, sir."
Harry stumbled a bit as Dobby gave him one last push through the doors. The door closed behind him. He looked around at the room and it looked quite different from the lat time he'd been here. When he'd held the D.A. meetings in here, there'd been cushions and books and just about anything you'd have needed to teach about the Dark Arts. Tonight it looked nothing like that.
The room looked about like a cabin living room. There was a comfortable large sofa sitting in front of a fire that was burning in a large brick fireplace. There was a wooden table in the middle of the room. There were two place settings at the table. The table's centerpiece was two lit tapered candles. The middle of the table was laden down with every a variety of foods---roast turkey, mashed potatoes, fresh dinner rolls, pumpkin pasties, a pitcher of pumpkin juice and a pitcher of butterbeer. It smelled fantastic.
He turned around the room to see a large Christmas tree in the corner of the room, decorated in silver garland and ornaments. A single silver star topped the tree and a handful of presents were sitting underneath the tree. To his surprise, a radio was playing music. Who had gone to all this trouble? Who had done all of this just for him?
As if on cue, a voice said softly behind him, "Happy Christmas."
He'd have known that voice anywhere. He turned slowly around to see her standing in front of the table. She looked absolutely beautiful. She was dressed as she almost always was, but she looked…well he was at a loss for words. She wore a pair of jeans with a royal blue sweater. Her hair wasn't frizzy or bushy, but curled in soft tendrils. Around her neck, was the simple silver necklace and charm he'd given to her. She smiled nervously at him.
"What are you doing here?" he finally managed to get out.
"Spending Christmas with you, of course," she said.
"With me?" he asked her. "I thought you were going home for Christmas."
"I am home," she said, her brown eyes staring intently into his. "Wherever you are, that is my home."
He looked at her, feeling as if he was going to cry.
"I, um, should go," he said.
"No," she said simply.
"What?" he asked her.
She stepped closer. "You walked away from me once, and I let you go. I'm not going to let that happen again. We have come through far too much for it to end like that."
He turned back toward the door, but she grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around to face her.
"Look at me," she said, her voice catching in her throat. "I know what you're doing. I think on some level, I understand why you're doing it, but you know, you could have asked me how I felt about it!"
"I'm doing what-", he began, but she stopped him.
"You're doing the same thing my parents did a few months ago, remember? They were planning my life for me without asking me what I wanted. They didn't stop to ask, Harry. You decided to cut yourself out of my life, not caring what I had to say about it. Well, you're going to hear what I have to say about it!"
He looked at her, heard the pleading in her voice. He nodded and walked over to the sofa. She followed a few moments later. They sat there; quiet, in front of the fire for a few moments.
She turned a little to look at him. "What happened?"
"You don't want to know."
"Yes, I do," she said. "I deserve an explanation for your sudden change of behavior."
"You really want to know?" he asked her, his voice rising. "Okay, here goes. That night I was in hospital, I had a dream. You and I were on the beach. We were having a fantastic time. You ran a little bit ahead of me and I started to run after you, but Voldemort appeared. It wasn't him as we know him now, but him as Tom Riddle. He told me that it wouldn't be him that killed you, it would be me. He said that you would die because you loved me. He said that you would meet the same fate as everyone who ever had the misfortune of loving me."
She sat there, listening to him, her mouth agape.
"Happy now?" he asked her. "Now, do you see why I did what I did?"
She looked thoughtful.
"That was just a dream, Harry," she said quietly.
"Dreams have a basis on reality," he said.
"On some level, yes, I believe they do," she said. "But, Harry, that was just a dream. No one knows what's going to happen. I do know one thing, though, I love you. I will die one day. Everyone does eventually. I hope to live a long life. I hope you live a long one, too. I hope we can live a long life together. What we can't do, though, is let fear cripple us. If we do that, what kind of life is that? I wouldn't change a single thing about my life, Harry, not one bit of it. If I had known then, what I'd known now, I wouldn't change a thing."
"Hermione," he whispered.
"Believe that, Harry," she said. "Trust in that."
She put her hand to his face.
"No one is guaranteed time," she said. "We don't know how much we have. We should enjoy the time we do have and cherish the people we have in our lives. I don't know about you, but these past couple weeks have been horrible. I don't want to spend the rest of my life like that, wanting to be with you, but denied that chance because you were afraid that I'd end up dead. I'm afraid of a lot of things, too, Harry, but I've never been afraid of you. I'm afraid of losing you for no good reason."
He was quiet. She stroked his cheek with her fingers.
"What do you want, Harry?" she asked him.
"You," he said softly. He took her hands in his. "I want you."
"My Harry," she said, smiling at him.
"I'm so sorry," he said. "I love you so much. I never want to hurt you."
"Then stay with me," she said. "Don't push me away."
He rested his forehead on hers.
"I don't know if you know this, or not, but I can be pretty stubborn when I want to be," she said, smiling at him. "And I'm not going anywhere."
"Good," he said, smiling a real smile, for the first time in what seemed like ages.
"I have one question for you," he said, as they got up from the couch, hand in hand, walking over to the table.
"What's that?" she asked.
"The radio?" he asked. "I thought we couldn't use Muggle electronics here at Hogwarts."
"We can't," she said, her eyes twinkling, as they sat down at the table. "But, when you have connections like I do, you can make anything happen."
"Like whom?" he asked her.
"I can't reveal my sources," she said. "I was sworn to secrecy."
"Okay, okay," he said, helping himself to a plate of turkey and potatoes. "So how did you pull all this together?"
She smiled wickedly at him as she too heaped some turkey and potatoes onto her own plate. "I had some help from some unlikely sources. Your best friend and mine, one Mr. Ronald Weasley, helped me carry out this deception. He told me to tell you upon success of our joint mission here that he was 100% responsible for this and he will be expecting gratitude, thanks and nothing short of a ticker tape parade upon his return."
Harry laughed.
"Who would have thought he'd had it in him?" he pondered aloud.
"He can be quite the devious romantic when he wants to be," Hermione said, snickering.
They enjoyed their meal and small talk as they enjoyed just being in each other's company again. When they were full and happy, Harry was aware of a soft ballad on the radio.
"Would you like to dance, my lady?" he asked her, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. She blushed as he proffered his hand to her and bowed.
"Why, certainly, sir," she said, laughing as she arose from her chair. They walked over toward the Christmas tree and began to dance.
The music played steadily in the background. Harry didn't know the name of the song, but it sounded like the same group that had sung the song he and Hermione had danced to that night in Atlanta at the planetarium.
"Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are
I had to find you
Tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart"
Hermione closed her eyes and leaned into him. His arm drifted up her back, and she could hear his breathing as they rotated in a slow circle, swaying to the music. They held each other close, enjoying the feeling of their warm bodies against each other.
"Tell me your secrets
And ask me your questions
Oh let's go back to the start
Running in circles
Coming up tails
Heads on a silence apart
Nobody said it was easy
It's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard"
He kissed her softly, taking pleasure in the feel of her soft lips. She was so warm and loving. He could have kicked himself for ever thinking he'd be able to stay away from her.
I was just guessing
At numbers and figures
Pulling your puzzles apart
Questions of science
Science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart
Tell me you love me
Come back and haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start
"I love you," he whispered. He traced her cheek with his fingers, a shy smile playing at his lips. She pressed her cheek closer to his fingers when he opened his hand.
Running in circles
Chasing our tails
Coming back as we are
Nobody said it was easy
Oh it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard
I'm going back to the start
She put one arm around his back and drew him in for another kiss.
"Harry," she whispered nervously. "I, um, do you think we should, because I would totally understand if you didn't, but I really think we, I mean to say, if you wanted to, I would really like to, I mean, what I'm trying terribly awkwardly to say is that I think I'm ready…that is, if you are."
He looked down into her eyes. She looked scared, somewhat, but determined.
"You mean, you want to, you know," he said, looking down at the carpet. "Merlin's beard, how are we supposed to do it if neither of us can bring ourselves to say it."
"Do you want to?" she asked him.
"If you want to, I want to," he said. "But I don't want you to think that we have to because I wouldn't want to do anything to make you uncomfortable."
"I always imagined my first time would be this perfect moment," she said, her eyes a little hazy. "That when the time came for that moment, I would know in my heart that it was the right thing to do. That I would know it was what I wanted with all my heart and soul. I know it sounds terribly romantic and idealistic, but that's what I feel now, Harry. I feel like this is our moment."
"Are you sure?" he asked her, taking her hand in his.
She nodded. She took hold of his hands and led him over to the sofa in front of the fire. They sat on the floor, across from each other. She looked at him, her brown eyes shining from the lights of the fire. She brought her hands to her jumper and pulled it up hesitantly over her head. She wore a simple white, cotton bra.
She could almost hear her heart beating as she brought her hands to his jumper and eased it off of him. He looked deep into her eyes and stroked her hair. She leaned in and nuzzled her face into his neck. She could feel their bodies responding to each other and she felt as if her whole insides were going haywire.
They discarded of their pants and shoes and flung them away from them. They sat, inches apart, Hermione in her bra and knickers and Harry in a pair of boxer shorts. They were both nervous and scared, but both knew in their hearts that they both wanted this. This monumental moment in their lives was obviously meant to be shared with each other.
They kissed again, this time more urgently. They fall back onto the lush carpet. Harry tentatively reached around Hermione's back to undo her bra strap. She gave a slight shudder as she felt the soft cotton fabric inch away from her body.
She kissed him again and watched as he worked his way down, planting kisses on her neck, on her chest, on her breasts. He sat up and his eyes never left her as he slowly pulled off his boxer shorts and then did the same with her knickers. Any embarrassment they might have felt at being naked in front of each other, melted away at the sheer tenderness of the moment.
He kissed her again as he lay back on top of her. They pressed their bodies together, kissing each other's skin, exploring each other's bodies, timidly at first, but with a growing confidence. She arched toward him, her fingers grabbing his hair.
She nuzzled her face into his shoulder as she felt him inside of her. She let out a soft whimper as they became one, their bodies intertwined. She buried her face into his neck to stifle her screams. They had given themselves to each other without reserve, without question. Both of them knew that this was what they wanted and needed.
She felt as if she'd gone through every human emotion possible as she tried to grasp her mind around what was happening. She and Harry were making love. Yes, it was somewhat awkward, as they hadn't really known what to do, but it was also gentle, and tender. It hurt, but it was a pleasant sort of hurt. It felt right. It made sense and it made no sense at all. It was what it was, nothing more, and nothing less.
She was sweating and so was he as they grinded against each other. When it was over, he pulled out of her softly. She could feel tears stinging her eyes. She was breathless as she looked at him. He lay back on the carpet beside her. She nestled herself against him. No words were spoken. None were needed. They lay there in front of the fire, their bodies side by side. A few moments passed before Hermione grabbed a blanket from the sofa and placed it over them. Within moments, they were both asleep.
The fire crackled in the fireplace and the music from the radio still played on softly. They held each other, not thinking of anything or anyone else, but each other.