The Senseless Broom Cupboard Ficlet

Anazecria

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 15/12/2003
Last Updated: 15/12/2003
Status: completed

Harry & Hermione get trapped in a broom cupboard. How did Harry get into his litte predicament? Enquire within. Many thanks/blame (depending on your preference) should go to Nitya and Sandra, this Ficlet wouldn't have happened otherwise.

Chapters

1. untitled

1. untitled

In order to understand how Harry got into his litte predicament, you may need to read these three posts located at Portkey. Many thanks/blame (depending on your preference) should go to Nitya and Sandra, this Ficlet wouldn’t have happened otherwise.

One Two Three

Now on with the story...

For the past half hour Harry had been trying every Unlocking Charm he could think of to get out of this broom cupboard, but to no avail. He leaned back against the shelves, wand in hand, muttering to himself about crazy Portkey people, trying to think of some way to get out of the broom cupboard (which was a lot smaller than he had remembered), when suddenly he was blinded by light.

The door had swung open, there was scuffling and shrieking, and before a blinded Harry could think to make a break for it, something had been pushed up against him. Whatever it was pinned him against the shelves and knocked his wand out of his hand, letting it fall to the floor. The door was slammed shut again.

Whatever had just pinned Harry against the shelves, it was wriggling against him and it was breathing. It also had bushy hair. Oh God. No. Just … no.

‘Hermione?’ Harry croaked, hoping he was right and hoping he was wrong.

It suddenly stopped wriggling. Harry thought it had even stopped breathing.

‘Harry?’

‘Yeah, it’s me,’ he sighed. One of the shelves was sticking into his lower back painfully, but he dared not try to move. It may have been dark, and while Hermione had her back to him, she was also pressed firmly against him and there was simply no room to turn around or back away. But while Hermione may not have been able to see him, any movement on his part could land him at the wrong end of Hermione’s wand later, if he couldn’t control himself. Harry was trapped. Harry was terrified.

Hermione, rather shakily Harry noticed, started breathing again.

‘Oh, Harry! What is going on? I was heading to Arithmancy when all of a sudden; three women with rather high opinions of themselves grabbed me and shoved me in here, muttering something to me about “getting a move on”. Do you have any idea what they were on about Harry?’

Harry was glad Hermione couldn’t see him blushing. He also felt bad; it seemed to be his fault they were in this predicament, somehow.

‘Er, no idea Hermione, none at all,’ his voiced wobbled slightly, but Hermione hadn’t appeared to notice. She was too busy thinking. Harry was thinking, too. He was trying to think of anything but having Hermione pressed up against him in a locked broom cupboard.

Hermione was pushing at the door. There was no door knob to tug at frantically on this side of the door. When that didn’t work she reached for her own wand.

‘That’s not gonna work, Hermione. I’ve tried everything I could think of. Even blasting away the door. Nothing. Banging and screaming to be let out at the top of my lungs for ten minutes wasn’t very effective either.’

Harry felt Hermione lower her arm, and her shoulders slumped slightly.

‘How long have you been in here, Harry?’

‘Half an hour, give or take,’ he answered.

‘So we’re stuck here, until those crazy women decide to let us out or Filch finds us?’ she squeaked.

‘That sounds about right,’ Harry answered slowly.

Then, Hermione panicked.

‘But they can’t! I have three essays to write tonight! And two tests next week to study for! I can’t stay here! I have to –’

‘Hermione!’ Harry’s hands leapt to her shoulders. Hermione instantly became very still.

‘It’s OK, don’t panic,’ he whispered soothingly into her ear, and had unknowingly begun to gently massage her shoulders. ‘The tests are just that, next week, and we don’t have any essays due for two weeks. Hermione Granger is not going to fall behind in her studies now. Also, it’s Thursday. People will notice we’re not in lessons. They will certainly notice you’re not in Arithmancy. We just need to sit tight. Or by the looks of it, stand. But panicking is not going to get us out of here. So please, try to keep calm.’

Harry was unaware that his hands had slid down her shoulders and were now running themselves up and down her upper arms as though trying to warm her. His hands stilled, and he squeezed her arms gently before releasing them and withdrew his hands from her. What had he just done? Harry wondered.

Whatever had caused Harry’s hands to develop a mind of their own, they seemed to

have relaxed Hermione, somewhat. Her breathing had slowed, along with her heartbeat, which he could feel against his chest. When he had removed his hands from her, she made this strange, rattled sigh that Harry couldn’t read, and felt her hair brush across his face while she shook her head slightly, as if to empty it, and said, ‘You’re right Harry. But I can’t just stand here doing nothing, I’ll go mad. I just need to think of something to keep me – er, us occupied until we can get out of here.’

Harry took a deep, slow breath. Hermione’s close proximity meant that Harry was certainly not short on ideas to “keep them occupied”. It may have been pitch black in the cupboard, but Hermione was so close to him that he could feel her every movement and breath. He suspected that with minimal effort he could probably tell when she was blinking. But as unlikely as it seemed, he was hoping to survive this experience and tried desperately to not think of those ideas, before he betrayed himself.

Yes Harry, he told himself. Stop thinking about your hands running up and down her arms earlier. Stop thinking about the way her heartbeat is vibrating against your chest. Definitely stop thinking about how her heartbeat slowed when you put your hands on her. While you’re at it, it’s probably a good idea to stop thinking about the feel of her hair and how you could smell the scent of her shampoo when it brushed against your face.

He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly. He chose to concentrate on the pain in his back the shelf was causing.

‘Well, what do you suggest, Hermione? I’m afraid the lighting rules out any games of I Spy. How about Name That Tune?’

‘Very funny,’ she answered. Harry could just imagine her smirking at him, smiling to himself at the thought.

Hermione sighed. Then, for whatever reason, she chose to lean into him, resting her head against his shoulder.

Before Harry could conjure up a disgusting image in his mind to calm himself, his brain immediately thought of how exposed her neck suddenly was, of how easy it would be to nuzzle her shampoo-scented hair, or even move it away so he could nuzzle her neck instead, or better yet, lower his head to her neck and press his lips –

Harry let out a moan in spite of himself.

Hermione lifted her head up immediately.

Damn.

‘Harry, what’s wrong?’

Oh, if you only knew.

‘Erm, the shelf … it’s cutting into my back …’ he trailed off.

‘Oh! Oh, why didn’t you say something? I can just move –’

‘No!’ he responded a little too quickly.

Hermione paused. ‘Harry?’

‘It’s OK, I’ve been through worse. There’s just no room to move around in here, is what I meant,’ he explained hurriedly.

‘Don’t be silly, I’ll just –’

Hermione shifted, and Harry’s hands seized her hips to still her movements. Hermione stiffened. So had Harry.

‘Uh, Harry, what’s that?’

Unfortunately for Harry his lower half was now happily nestled exactly where a best friend shouldn’t be. Even worse, Hermione had noticed its approval. He bit back a groan.

‘That … is nothing, Hermione. It’s just my wand.’

Well, it wasn’t a complete lie.

‘Oh, OK then,’ she answered quietly.

Was that disappointment he caught in her voice? No, it couldn’t be … his mind must be playing tricks on him, a side effect of all the blood in his body suddenly diverting itself elsewhere.

Hermione must not have been comfortable herself, because without warning, she shifted again. In the process of doing this, she moved her foot, which brushed against something on the ground; this was followed by a noise that sounded suspiciously like a narrow piece of wood rolling over a hard floor.

The sound of Harry’s wand rolling on the floor seemed to echo through the cupboard. To Harry, it was the loudest noise he had ever heard in his life. He hoped against hope that the smartest witch in Hogwarts would not realise what that sound was.

For the third time since entering this cupboard Hermione became very still. Her heart was pounding against his chest, and he was fairly certain that neither of them were breathing.

‘Harry…’ her voice was so very quiet and so very soft, he almost didn’t hear her.

‘Please, don’t. Just … don’t,’ he pleaded, hanging his head. It’s too late, thought Harry, the damage is done.

‘Harry … that’s not your wand, is it?’

Harry’s stomach seemed to sink so low that he believed it had sunk through all the floors at Hogwarts, and was probably somewhere in the Chamber of Secrets by now. He braced himself. If Hermione was going to hex him, he’d like to get it over with.

‘Well now, that would depend on which wand you are referring to,’ said Harry quietly.

His hands hadn’t left her hips.

‘This one,’ she answered, and she promptly bucked her hips into him.

Had Harry thought all the blood in his body had rushed south earlier? No, it was doing that now.

‘Hermione!’

Well, what else could he say, really?

‘Harry, you can say what you like, but I thought I should say hello to your little friend down there, anyway, your “wand” certainly doesn’t seem to be complaining,’ she purred. What? Wait … did Hermione just purr? Hermione purrs?

Still in shock, Harry took a few moments to notice that in response to Hermione’s erm, movements, his arms had instinctively gripped her around her middle. He had also bent forward slightly, lowering his face right over Hermione’s left shoulder.

Oh, her scent was intoxicating.

He took a few shaky, steadying breaths.

‘You … I … er …’

‘Say it, Harry.’

‘You’re not mad,’ was all that slipped out of Harry’s mouth.

He felt her smirk.

‘No Harry, I’m not mad. But like your “wand” I am getting a little impatient with you. I think he’s trying to tell you something,’ she responded.

As she spoke, her hands had moved up so that they were hovering over his, her fingertips running feather-light over the backs of his own hands in circles. The sensation was maddening.

Harry was reeling. Reeling from the effects of her fingers on his hands, reeling at how close she was to him, reeling from the feeling of her in his arms, reeling from the effects of all his blood rushing south, reeling in shock at her words, reeling because he couldn’t seem to catch his breath, reeling from her scent, he was just reeling.

So Harry did the only thing a reeling man could do. He gripped her tighter. Then he briefly raised a hand to move her hair aside, and lowered his lips to her neck.

Now she was definitely purring.

He would have continued tasting her neck, but then Hermione twisted herself just enough so that she could reach his lips. Now if Harry had been thinking straight, he’d have wondered just how had Hermione contorted herself to kiss him, but Harry was not thinking straight right now. So he just forgot about the taste of her neck and indulged in experiencing the new taste of her lips instead.

He only paused when he felt Hermione grip him. But only long enough to growl in response. Then Harry proceeded to make Hermione whimper.

***

Harry enjoyed spending this time with Hermione very much, but Harry thought that to pay Hermione the proper attention he wanted to and she deserved, she was worth a lot more than a broom cupboard. Harry pulled himself away from her to tell her this, but then Hermione did something that made his knees buckle and his eyes roll into the back of his head.

So Harry could only bring himself to close his eyes, moan and capture her lips again. He’d tell her later, Hermione was wonderfully busy.

Harry was rather occupied, so when he saw a bright light appear suddenly behind his eyelids, he thought that it was just another side-effect to Hermione’s ministrations, and not Professor Snape opening the broom cupboard door.

‘So how many points from Gryffindor do you think this is worth, Potter? Miss Granger?’ Professor Snape spoke in a slow, triumphant and dangerous tone.

If Harry hadn’t been holding on to Hermione so tightly, she surely would have spilled out onto the floor at the sight of Snape. For only the second time Harry could remember, Hermione was unable to answer a teacher.

Harry was still thinking of a response while glaring at Snape, when he continued.

‘I was wondering when the day would come that I found you two in a broom cupboard. Seems Professor Flitwick lost his bet with Professor McGonagall. No matter. Go clean yourselves up. Then meet me in my office after dinner tomorrow night, for separate detentions,’ he sneered, his eyes glittering.

Harry had rapidly gone from glaring at Snape to gaping at him. Teachers were betting on them?

‘Well, what are you waiting for? Twenty points each from Gryffindor! Now get back to your common room before I double it!’

Harry picked up his wand, grabbed Hermione, and pulled her with him to get as far away from Snape as possible. He was already dreading the next Potions lesson.

Disgusted, but satisfied that he had ruined Potter’s good time, Snape headed back to his office.

Soon after everyone had gone, three rather fetching women emerged from the shadows.

Sandra, Nitya & Nielle each bore a look of deep satisfaction, but with a trace of mild annoyance.

‘OK, because of Snape we didn’t get complete smut. However, we’re well on our way, so it is only a matter of time. So it looks like we will be making some modifications to the Room of Requirement,’ spoke Nielle rather smugly.

If anyone had been there to see the way the ladies eyes glittered, they would have been extremely nervous to say the least. Nielle spoke again.

‘It is settled. But you two meet me there in thirty minutes. I have to go there on my own first to let Remus Lupin out. He needed some sleep after my private tutoring, and he is still very shy, although much more enlightened than he was before he went in there …’