Chapter 11: The Morning After
Ron raised himself into a sitting position, the bedcovers crumpling up around him messily. He peered out on the world through slotted eyes. Why the hell was there so much light all of a sudden? Sure, it had been a hot sunny summer, but this bright light was something else. It was actually painful.
His head throbbed with a vengeance and it felt like someone had taken an extremely large sledge hammer to him. Why did he ache so much? What on earth was the matter with him?
Reaching down, he threw off his blankets, not really caring to be tidy, and swung his feet round so that they rested on the floor in front of the bed. With the sudden movement had come a feeling of intense wooziness and nausea
"That's not good," he thought to himself. He stayed in that position for a while; letting his eyes slowly adjust to the light and allowing himself to recover from his bout of dizziness.
After a few minutes, it was just about bearable to view the room through normal eyes, so he peered around him to see whether the others were up yet. He could see from the drawn back hangings on Harry's bed, that his best friend was already up and about somewhere. Neville was still in bed, though, or rather; on his bed. He was just lying there on top of the blankets with the drapes drawn back, oblivious to the world around him. The twins and Lee Jordan were strangely and noticeably absent.
He had adjusted to the light slightly, but his head still hurt. Really hurt. Ron felt inclined to fall back into bed and off to sleep again, rather than face the day with its bright lights and wooziness.
Just as he was contemplating getting back under the covers and seeking the solace of sleep, the door of the dormitory opened.
"Good morning Ron," Harry called cheerfully, "I see you're up now."
Harry's voice tore through Ron's head like a razor blade, doing nothing for his headache. The fact that Harry was in a good mood, when he felt so completely awful, also did nothing to help Ron's condition. Nobody should be that happy, it wasn't natural. Not when he felt like the walking dead, or in this case, sitting. Ron groaned loudly and turned to bury his head in a soft feather pillow. Maybe that would help protect him from the cruel world, which was attacking his senses so brutally at the moment.
Harry chuckled to himself and left Ron to get comfortable with his pillow. He walked over to where Neville slept and gently shook the boy's shoulder. This elicited a groan from the newly conscious teenager.
"Morning Neville," Harry greeted his friend softly. Neville rolled over and looked up at Harry. His hair was tousled and there were lipstick marks all over his face and neck. It was quite a comic sight seeing the once quiet and nervous boy in such a state. What would his Gran say if she saw him like this?
"Hiya, Harry," Neville croaked, "What's the time?"
"It's ten fifty," Harry replied. "Don't worry, we kept you some breakfast."
"Thanks," Neville said appreciatively.
"So, how're you feeling after last night?"
"Not great, but I suppose it could definitely be worse," Neville spoke none too positively.
"We've got coffee downstairs, but you might want to have a wash before you come down," Harry said encouragingly.
"I don't wanna have a wash yet. Why do I have to have one before I come down? Just let me have some coffee, and then I'll have a wash," Neville complained.
"Firstly, because you stink of alcohol and secondly, because you have lipstick smeared all over your face," Harry pointed out.
Neville blushed when Harry mentioned the lipstick, but a goofy expression crossed his face as he remembered the happenings of the previous evening. Sheepishly, Neville crawled out of bed, collected a towel and headed off to have a shower, his resistance having crumbled.
"One down, one to go," Harry thought to himself, "I wonder if Hermione is having the same trouble with the girls." Muttering to himself about excessive drinking, Harry turned his attention to the task of trying to prise Ron away from his pillow and getting him out of bed. All the while, he thought about what had happened earlier that day in the confines of the Gryffindor common room.
Earlier that morning, Harry had woken up in his bed feeling incredible contented with the world. Staring at the ceiling, he mentally relived the previous day, whilst unconsciously fingering the pendant that Hermione had given him. It had been incredible. His friends had come to Hogwarts and they'd all had a huge party and a game of quidditch. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd had so much fun. Then there'd been the time that he'd spent with Hermione walking around the lake. She'd looked so pretty in her navy shorts and blue vest. The way her hair fell around her shoulders was entrancing. Yesterday at the lake and on the couch late last night, he found himself watching her; captivated. Then he'd almost let it slip. He'd said "That's why I love you." In the context, it was easily mistaken for a friendly, "I love you," but in another circumstance, he might have let the truth out.
His heart began to beat faster in his chest as he considered the possible ramifications of his actions last night. If the truth had come out, how would she have reacted? Would she have rejected him? What if she didn't? What would he have done then? Endless questions ran through his head and for none of them could he find an answer. No, that wasn't true. He was too scared to find an answer. He could have told her and found out, but he'd backed away when he'd had the chance to see what would have happened.
He sighed. He couldn't tell her yet. He had to try and find out whether she would react favourably towards his advances. After all, he reasoned with himself, he didn't want to ruin their friendship needlessly, did he?
"Not that you're just too scared, at all," the voice in his head had reminded him sarcastically. Choosing to brush aside the comments made by his subconscious, Harry had gotten out of bed and taken a long shower, preparing to face the object of his affections.
Hermione had gotten up at just before Harry that morning and at the same time as he was in the shower, she was stood in front of a mirror in the girls' dormitory brushing her hair. After spending a night in bed, her hair had become a little bushier than she liked, so she set about brushing out the tangles. It took her about ten minutes before she was satisfied.
She was sure that there must have been a spell that could produce the same result, but it wouldn't have been quite the same. It was like knitting the hats for the house elves. Doing it by hand was just more satisfying. She didn't know why, but some things just felt like cheating if done by magic. It was no doubt due to spending the first eleven years of her life without the help of such spells and managing quite alright, thank you very much.
When she had finished running the hairbrush through her hazel coloured locks, she set about using a butterfly clip to hold them in place at the back of her head. That achieved, she had proceeded to change out of her pyjamas and dress casually in a pale blue sundress, anticipating it to be another hot day.
When she was ready to leave the dormitory, none of the other girls were awake. She wondered how long it would be before they roused themselves; considering the possibility of waking them herself. It had only been eight thirty, so she had decided that she wouldn't interfere with their sleep patterns just then. Perhaps another hour or so wouldn't do them any harm. With that, she had padded quietly down to the common room to see if any of the boys had fought their way out of their beds at what she knew they would consider an ungodly hour.
Much to her surprise, when she reached the communal area, she had seen Harry lounging about on a Gryffindor armchair, looking as handsome as ever. She had walked over and sat next to him. Together they had relaxed on the sofas, neither speaking. Neither needing to speak. Both just relaxing in the other's company.
Hermione turned her concentration back to the mission at hand, and it was most certainly a mission. Those girls definitely did not want to get up. It hadn't taken much to get Luna out of bed. She was usually an early riser; Hermione had been informed as she watched the Ravenclaw girl walk off to use the bathroom. She smiled slightly at the thought of ten fifty five being considered early, but was soon reprimanding herself for turning her attention away from the other three again. Last time she had become lost in her thoughts about the morning's occurrences, Ginny had managed to reclaim her bedcovers. Now Ginny was back in bed and heading back to unconsciousness fast. Something would have to be done about that.
Quickly, she stalked over to where Ginny lay, cocooned on her bed. The movement was met with Ginny tightening her grip on the covers, preparing for the imminent struggle. Hermione paused. Last time, stealing the bedclothes hadn't been very effective. Perhaps a new tack would be more successful in getting the younger girl out of bed.
Making her way back across the room to where she slept, Hermione picked her wand up from the bedside table and returned to her original position next to Ginny's bed. She perched on the edge of it, twiddling her wand casually between her fingers.
"Ginny; I know that you don't want to get up, but if you don't, I'll just levitate you down to the common room like that," Hermione threatened, amused at the huffing sound that her words produced from the mass of blankets.
"Five seconds, Ginny. Then you're going downstairs whether you like it or not. By the way, I know for a fact that at least one of the boys is down there already."
Ginny, it appeared, was having none of it and remained steadfastly covered in her foetal position on the bed. Perhaps she thought that Hermione was calling her bluff, but what happened next did not meet with her approval.
"Fair enough," Hermione said, "Have it your way." With that, Hermione demonstrated the "Swish and Flick" technique perfectly, lifting the youngest Weasley from her comfortable mattress and starting to move her towards the door.
Her indignant squawking caught the attention of Padma and Parvati. Needless to say, as they saw the redheaded teenager being levitated unceremoniously through the door, they decided that perhaps getting up wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Jumping out of bed, Parvati staggered over to the decorative gilt mirror, which hung on the wall of the dormitory. Taking one look in it, she groaned and moved to knock on the bathroom door, not waiting for the mirror's comments on her appearance. She was in a condition similar to that of Ron, though not quite as bad and from what she had seen in the mirror, she looked pretty similar to how she felt.
Her sister was more reserved. She extracted herself from the four-poster bed that she occupied and serenely set about getting dressed. Not having indulged in drinking as much as her twin, she didn't feel that bad.
After frantic knocking on the bathroom door, it finally opened allowing Luna to exit and Parvati in. Only seconds after Luna had left the room, the door to the bathroom banged shut again, noisily.
Now that Luna was finished in the bathroom, she dressed and was just walking out of the door, with the intention of seeing whether her boyfriend was up yet, when an enraged Ginny burst back into the dormitory, still wrapped in her blankets. On her face was an expression that made Snape's angry stares look tame by comparison. Hermione followed shortly behind her.
"Oh, come on Ginny. He only saw you in you pyjamas. It's not the end of the world. In fact, I think you're over reacting. After all, it's hardly any different from seeing you in your normal clothes," Hermione attempted to mollify, but failed spectacularly.
"Yeah, what would you know? The only guy that you've ever been interested in couldn't even say your name properly," Ginny snapped cattily.
"That's beside the point, though I'll let you know that it's a very difficult name to pronounce, especially if English isn't your first language," Hermione retorted, now beginning to lose her cool appearance.
"Yeah, whatever!" Ginny turned away and began replacing the blankets she had brought back up the stairs on her bed.
"Oh come on. Harry and Ron have seen me in my pyjamas loads of times. It's not a big deal," Hermione said, now getting slightly exasperated with what she considered to be an immature fuss.
"The big deal? Well, it's only that the boy I like just saw me in my pyjamas with the pictures of teddy bears on them."
"Oh, really," Hermione exclaimed.
"How would you like it if Harry saw you in teddy bear pyjamas?" Ginny accosted the older girl.
"Ok, so maybe it's not the best of situations to be in, but it's your own fault. I did warn you," Hermione reasoned.
"You're not my mother. You don't have to get us all up and dressed. We're not children anymore," Ginny said pointedly, still wearing an angry expression.
"Fine, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have levitated you down to the common room, which ended in an embarrassing situation for you. But if you act like children, how am I supposed to treat you. I suggest that if any of you actually want any breakfast, you head on down to the common room sharpish. If you don't, those human vacuum cleaners called boys will make sure that there's nothing left.
"Alright," Ginny conceded, still not looking very happy, but refraining from further confrontation.
"Good, I'll see you down in the common room in a few minutes." Having achieved her goal, Hermione exited the room and made her way down the tapestry lined staircase to the beautifully furnished Gryffindor common room, again relieving further events of the morning.
Harry shifted his arm from its position on the couch, stretching and reaching over Hermione's shoulder. He pulled her closer to himself and she snuggled into his chest in an attempt to get closer to him than she already was.
Harry knew that he wasn't amazing at reading females, but it didn't seem to him as though she minded the close contact that was present at moment on the scarlet red sofas. In fact, she appeared to be enjoying the intimacy of the seating arrangements. Perhaps he was in with a chance after all. It didn't seem that he was unattractive to girls. For example, look at the reaction of that girl from the petrol station on the way to Hogwarts. She had seemed to like him. As much as he was achieving by stoking his ego, his examination of his date-ability was interrupted by a question from the girl resting on his chest.
"Do you want to continue knitting the hat that you were making?" Hermione asked, looking up and meeting his eyes.
"How could you say no to that pretty face?" Harry thought.
"Yeah, sure. You can continue knitting those things that you were making as well," Harry replied and was pleased by the smile that appeared on her face at the mention of his agreement. A pout became evident, though, when he failed to name the item of clothing she was knitting.
"Things?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she said it.
"Yes, that third pair of socks that you were knitting."
"Good. I'm glad to see that you were able to recognise them. I know that sometimes you have trouble telling your arse from your elbow, so a pair of socks might be a tricky prospect," Hermione teased.
"Ow, now you've gone and hurt my feelings," Harry said, clasping a free hand to his chest and pretending to be devastated.
"I'm sure you'll live," Hermione retorted; getting up to fetch her knitting basket from the corner of the common room, where it was stored.
Harry took the opportunity to re-arrange himself on the couch and shift into a marginally more comfortable position, tucking his feet up onto the sofa as well.
When Hermione returned with the knitting basket, she set it down in front of the sofa. Taking out a couple of pairs of knitting needles and the articles of clothing that they had started, she sat next to Harry on the couch.
Harry was handed his prior effort and given a brief instruction of how to continue. It all appeared to be fairly simple. Last time he had mastered the basic technique and started the hat shape. All he had to do now was to finish the pattern and then join up the two ends of the knitting to form the finished product. Yes, very straight forward, or at least that was how it seemed. Harry settled into the rhythmic motions that the needles followed, now absorbed in the task of providing Dobby with a further headpiece.
Meanwhile, Hermione was busy flicking away with the two metallic instruments at quite a rate. Having advanced from the bobbly stage of hat construction, she was now pretty competent and the socks she was making at the moment looked very reasonable.
Every now and then, Hermione would look up from her knitting to take a peek at how Harry was doing. She could see that he was concentrating hard, because his eyebrows were drawn and he was staring intently at the work in front of him.
After about twenty minutes of knitting, Harry gently tapped Hermione on the arm in a bid to get her attention. She turned to look at him.
"Hermione, how do I join these two ends up?" Harry questioned. "I know that you explained it earlier, but I'm kind of stuck."
"Alright," she sighed, "I'll talk you through it. Sit up and scoot over so that I can see properly."
Harry did as he was told and removed his feet from the sofa. He scooted up to sit next to Hermione, stopping only when their thighs touched.
"Right," Hermione started, "All you've got to do, is knit this bit into that bit," Hermione pointed to the two important parts, "I know that you're meant to do it properly, from one piece of knitting, but as you're fairly new to this, we'll just use another piece of wool."
"Ok," Harry agreed, though he still sounded unsure as to how he should go about the task.
Turning away from the knitting, she met his gaze appraisingly.
"You're completely lost, aren't you?" she asked.
"Haven't got the foggiest," Harry replied promptly, flashing her a warm smile.
"Fine, I'll guide you through it," she said, putting down her knitting.
She reached her right arm around behind Harry's back and covered his hand with hers, also surrounding his other hand with her left. The feeling of skin touching skin caused tingling sensations to course through her palms and the rest of her body, heightening her senses beyond their already sensitive levels. Again, she could make out the distinct smell that always lingered on his person. It was especially noticeable since he had showered only an hour previously. Always the same; citrus mixed with something that she couldn't quite place, a fragrance unique to Harry.
"Concentrate, Hermione," she mentally chastised herself.
Gently, she moved his hands, with hers, and together they began to join the two edges of the woolly hat. In and out the needles went, Hermione carefully correcting Harry when he looked to be making a mistake.
If anyone had been watching the pair, it would have seemed to be obvious that the two were very much in love. The way they sat side by side on the couch, limbs entwined, totally comfortable in the other's arms, was beautiful to behold. It was the sort of thing that lyrics were inspired by; masterpieces created from and everyone sought to obtain for themselves. The task of joining the two ends of the hat seemed fittingly symbolic of what was yet to be confessed between the two teenagers, but felt by both.
It was in that position, five minutes later, that they completed Harry's first House Elf Liberation Front hat.
Hermione withdrew the needles and set them down on the sofa next to her, their services no longer being required for the time being. The product, a blue knitwear hat, was lumpy to say the least, but in Hermione's eyes it was wonderful. She was so glad that Harry had agreed to participate in this with her, a welcome change of mind after his decline during the last school year.
Harry turned his head around, with the aim of being able to see Hermione's face when he spoke to her. Because of their close proximity, though, when Harry turned to face her, they brushed noses, both blushing slightly as a result. Despite the blushes, neither pulled away and they remained like that, staring deep into the other's eyes. Hermione's tongue darted out and moistened her rosy lips nervously.
When she looked back on it, Hermione couldn't remember who initiated it, but gradually they began to slant their heads and move lips towards lips. Then it happened. Their mouths met hesitantly in the tenderest of kisses.
The feeling was indescribable. Held within the connection were the pent up emotions of a year or more. It produced butterflies in Hermione's stomach and she felt like she was soaring high with the birds. It was exhilarating and wonderful, but all too soon it came to an end. As both retreated slightly, neither broke eye contact with the other. Finally, after such a long time of dreaming, Hermione's desires were evolving into reality.
A.N. Ok, so that's the next chapter. What do you think? Tell Me in Your reviews. This chapter raises a few questions.
Who saw Ginny in her teddy bear pj's?
What will happen between Harry and Hermione? Will it be awkward?
Will the Weasley twins make a resurgence? (Ok, that wasn't really alluded to in the chapter, but notice they're gone when Ron wakes up.)
How will Parvati and Neville react to each other after the night before?
Plus all the questions from earlier chapters.
So, what do you think the answers to the questions are? Take some guesses. Tell me in your reviews. And please review. It is an excellent motivator to find email in your inbox labelled review.
Ok, this chapter, I want people to say what they think will happen. If there are questions that people have, they can e-mail me for clarification, although I won't release plot details.
There is a possible Parvati / Neville relationship here. Are you guys interested? Do you think that this will work?
So, the next chapter should be out in a week or two's time, depending on reviews (hint, hint) and workload. I'm looking forward to hearing from you. Until next time.
Toodles.