***
Hermione had little trouble falling asleep that night after the confrontation, despite the gnawing worry about being too forward with her feelings. A part of her still didn't know what possessed her to proclaim a secret she'd virtually been keeping since she knew Harry. As it turned out, there hadn't been any dreams any more, normal or otherwise...
The morning after, her stomach seemed to be in knots however, when she thought about facing Harry again... Until she steeled herself, reminding herself she was a Gryffindor. So that morning she pretended nothing had happened the faithful night. In she just got no distinct reaction in return from Harry.
Despite the fact she started that cool, friendly attitude, she felt unsure about the way Harry was acting. When he hadn't really avoided her, per se, she couldn't for the life of her get a height of his feelings... She couldn't even tell any more if he treated her different or not... She couldn't remember... But she refused to let on to her confusion, and slight disappointment... Slight? Now she was even lying to herself. It hurt that he didn't… DO something… anything…
For as much as she remembered they'd agreed to take it slow, until they knew more about the dreams. But Harry hadn't even approached her to ask if she wanted to do some research, or if she herself had looked it up already. Even though her schedule didn't permit her to dwell as much as she'd wanted on Harry's behaviour, it was never far from her mind.
The week had gone by with the usual routine of classes, Head duties, extended duties (because of the war after all), and of course, the extra 'battle courses', as Ron had dubbed them. Each of them had private lessons. Harry was now working with Dumbledore himself. Ron and her were respectively working with Remus and McGon… Minerva. Snape had been Harry's original tutor, but there had been made other arrangements when it was clear the two would've ended up killing each other, before the end of the first lesson.
In addition to all this, Harry still had Occlumency and she'd taken to help Madam Pomfrey, together with Ginny and Luna, for the injuries of members of the Order, who they couldn't risk to be sent to St-Mungos…
Before Hermione had known it was Thursday evening, and she was terribly knackered...
***
An eternity had passed, or so it seemed to Harry. It had been Sunday night when Hermione had left him there in his special room. By the time the snitches had somewhat settled inside his chest, she was gone, and he was painfully reminded of his aroused state. While his heart still fluttered like a silly schoolgirl's when he remembered Hermione declaring that she loved him, he'd 'taken care' of his 'problem'.
That was Sunday. Monday had been... normal. This whole school week had been hellishly normal.
It was now Thursday evening, and it had been a whole week since the mess had started. Hermione had treated him like nothing at all had happened, whenever they were not alone, which was most frequent. And even when they were alone, only a few stolen glances here and there were the only indictive that there had been something happening...
He supposed the ball was in his court, but he had stalled long enough in his indecission, to finally convince himself that Hermione had not really intended to tell him she really loved him, like passionately-in-love... She probably just meant it in a best friends way, with maybe extra perks since they were of the opposite sex… This sounded like a hollow excuse, not to mention, a cowardly one, but he couldn't help wanting to... Well, what was it that he wanted?
Having the distinct feeling that he was acting like a despicable prat didn't really galvanise him into action. He was relieved, but disappointed in a way also, that the dreams had ceased, until now anyway.
He readied himself to exit their bathroom, feeling confident he was alone in their Head quarters at this hour. Hermione was having her lessons with McGon… Minerva, after all...
***
Hermione stumbled into the Head-quarters, feeling extremely ready for a relaxing bath and bed afterwards…
All weariness in her bones vanished, though, the moment she saw Harry, and was replaced by some kind of hot liquid that made her feel extremely alive, and at the same time dangerously vulnerable. For several seconds the only thing her brain could process was: "Harry and wet hair = good, naked torso = excellent, towel round his middle = presently undecided, towel round his middle slipping just a little bit = definitely nice, …"
This was more or less where she regained control over her more baser thinking pattern, and snapped her eyes back to his face. Well, that was a mistake... For some reason he hadn't worn his glasses and his glittering green eyes were squinting in her direction... Hermione felt irritated, he didn't seem half as flustered as she felt. Well, obviously he hadn't a clue on how she was affected on seeing him like this. The way he was squinting, he could probably just barely make out her identity, let alone the look in her eyes...
***
Harry was startled for a minute when he heard someone entering the Head rooms, but relaxed when he realised it was only Hermione.
"Hey! Back so soon? Didn't think you'd be back yet..." Harry remembered Hermione liked to soak in the bath tub after duelling with their Head of House, so he grinned and cocked his head towards the door he'd just exited: "Bathroom's free!"
Wanting his glasses, he walked through the door of his bedroom, and shut the door behind him. At that moment the towel on his waist slipped a bit and he caught it. With that, the realisation came about what had just transpired. He'd been in a room with Hermione, wearing ONLY a towel!
Together with a furious flush, that felt like it covered his whole body, came the fluttering sensation of humiliation, and … something else.
'Way to go, Potter'
Trying to regain his mental abilities he was sorting out thoughts. How could he have been so stupid, so oblivious, so... Well, on the other side, maybe he should bless his inner-cretin; he didn't want to know what it would've been like if he'd showed his blatant embarrassment in front of Hermione. Especially when, without his glasses he had no idea how she was reacting...
He tried to picture him, in only a towel; flustered beyond believe, and fumbling about like an idiot. And then Hermione fully clothed, laughing at his awkwardness, or something. But he wouldn't know since he hadn't any glasses and he would've had no way of knowing what she'd be doing… Making him even more vulnerable in the situation.
Yes, it had been definitely better he'd acted without realising all this at the exact moment, even if he was the greatest fool in the universe… he'd avoided certain humiliation, so…
***
Hermione stood rooted in the same place even minutes after Harry had closed his door. The nerve!
She tried to wrap her mind around what had just happened. Still in quite a daze, she was having distinct problems doing just that. Shaking her head furiously, she pushed her mental incapability aside, and stomped into her room, preparing to go to the bathroom. The routine of this almost ritual after-duelling-soak made her trembling calm down, but she still felt a strange kind of rage inside her midsection, that threatened not to be ignored for long…
Walking briskly towards the bathroom she closed the door securely and set about to prepare the bath. Finally relaxing her muscles when she lowered her body in the scented water, she allowed thoughts back to her mind. Sensing she was going to fail trying to rationalize the situation, she tried her best to just analyse this new development, as calmly as possible, without worrying too much about logic.
Harry had seemed completely at ease. Basically he had been wearing a towel, ONLY that, so that was just a microscopically small leap to being naked… OK, that might be just a bit over the top: it would be a gigantic leap to see him as bare as the day he was born, but still… Until now the most she'd seen was a pyjama-clad bare-footed Harry, and that was only this year when he'd overslept the first morning here, not accustomed to sleep alone and not get a wake-up call.
But he'd seemed so comfortable… Like he didn't mind her seeing him like that. What did that mean? Did it mean he wasn't attracted to her? That he didn't feel insecure at all around her, just like a best friend? That he was growing up and had become a lot more mature overnight? That he didn't want her to know… What?
It just didn't make sense. Harry had always been awkward about intimacy, even in the strictly friendship-relationship-sense. And somehow she'd never pictured Harry as someone who would be secure about his looks, not that he had any reason to feel insecure, but that didn't really matter anyway.
But he hadn't looked like he cared at all that she'd been ogling him or not. Of course, he didn't have his glasses, so he couldn't know she was practically drooling. Though, shouldn't that have made him feel even more uncomfortable? He couldn't see much without his glasses, and she imagined that could be very disorienting...
Had Harry somehow become a confident young man without her picking up on it? Had he suddenly left all of his insecurities behind? It was virtually impossible: she knew how he'd reacted to her touch, to her words, how he'd all but told her that he at least needed her, and maybe even loved her… Of all the things she could accuse Harry off, she could never suspect him of deliberately lying to her with the surety of hurting her in the process…
So where did this leave her? Was he trying to build up more courage? Was he trying to distance himself from her for other silly reasons like protecting her from Voldemort? Goddess, she hoped he wasn't that daft! With her being a Muggleborn and the students with the best OWL results this century, combined with the fact that she was a close friend of Harry's, she wouldn't be in much more danger if she became his girlfriend officially. And even if it did bug him that much, surely he'd known she'd understand and keep the change in relationship secret.
With a start she realised she was trying to find arguments to convince Harry she should be his girlfriend… True, she had longed for it a long time. But on the other hand, she'd also promised herself she wouldn't become involved before she'd finished her studies, and secured herself a pleasurable job. She didn't want to end up living her life for a boyfriend, even if she loved Harry more then her own life. It was a matter of principle. She wasn't going to betray her believes on justice and equality for all, by becoming a housewife that stayed home waiting for her husband to come home.
Distracted by the water getting cold in the tub, she halted that train of thought. For Merlin's sake, she had been thinking about marriage!
After she'd towelled and got ready to leave the bathroom, she tried to summarise her thinking about the little almost-naked-Harry-incident. Bottom line was that she hadn't a clue, and even more then ever she didn't know what to think of his attitude.
Resolving herself to at least go researching the Restricted Section tomorrow morning for tomes on peculiar dreams (she hadn't found the time yet earlier this week), she reassured herself that she would at least find an answer to that question…
***
After a lot of tossing and turning, Harry'd finally managed to fall asleep. Feeling himself pulled deep in the darkness, his thoughts were again on Hermione.
Suddenly, he was back in the frustration-room, as he'd come to name it… Hermione being there too, he knew immediately they were in for another one of those dreams. There was a slight difference, though. The previous times he'd had this drugged feeling, kind of… Like he was being lived through the dreams and it weren't really his own actions, even if he obviously wanted to do those things on an unconscious level.
This time, however he felt a little bit more in control... Well, that is to say, his mind wasn't as numb, but it was definitely racing with irrational thoughts at the sight of Hermione, and the promise of her submission, like before in the dreams…
Clack!
Well, that theory was out… Harry hadn't seen it coming: Hermione had slapped him across the face. Luckily this was a dream, so the only thing that got bruised was his ego. He looked up at her: she was really magnificent.
Her unmanageable hair was, again, wild, her eyes were flashing with emotion, and her body… Well he could only speculate what she hid under her robes, but he liked to think that the dreams gave him an educated guess…
The tense silence was interrupted by her talking in that maddening lecture-tone. It made him want to… do unmentionable… things… Harry didn't really pay attention to what she was saying, not that he really tried, either.
It was funny in a way, ever since the first time he'd met her, she'd lectured him; it had just become such a constancy… It was one of those things in daily life of being best friends with Hermione Granger. He'd always had some kind of reaction: most of the times annoyance, a lot of other times he was impressed, and rarely he thought it ridiculous. But never in his life had he imagined that Hermione's lecture would be sensual in any way.
It was just that she was so passionate about things most people took for granted. It was the maddening fact that she was right most of the times. She'd lick her lips unexpectedly when she was busy on a particular long rant, or brush a lock of stubborn hair behind her ear unthinkingly. She would be so immersed in what she was trying to convince you off, that she didn't pay attention to her body language.
Harry was watching her while all his thoughts melted into one desire, too powerful to resist. Throwing caution in the wind, as this was a dream anyway, he made his move.
***
Hermione was steaming! She'd thought those dreams would've been over and done with. At least in the sense that they would belong to the past that needed to be analysed, but not relived!
Harry had toyed with her enough already, she didn't care if she was supposed to be the docile one in these dreams: she would have none of it. In a fit of blind rage fuelled by extreme frustration, she slapped him across the face.
Refusing to feel guilty about it, since they were in the dream world, and it couldn't have possibly hurt, she concentrated on the relief it brought. Telling him what she thought of these dreams, she put her hands on her hips. She didn't neglect to warn him that when she got through with researching this phenomenon and that she'd find out he had anything to do with it… Voldemort would be a piece of apple pie compared to her.
That's when Harry just took a few steps in her direction. Surprised for a moment, she didn't let it stop her speaking up her mind. She was cut off mid-sentence though when his lips descended on hers. Still feeling the rage within fuming, she tried to jerk her head back and finish whatever she had been saying.
Harry just followed her movement though, and made everything coming from her mouth sound mumbled. Refusing to let the wonderful feeling of his lips on hers distract her from more important things, she brought up her fists and tried to pound-push on his chest.
Again Harry disabled her actions by grabbing her fists and twisting them back. While he was restraining both arms against her back he deepened his kiss, and suddenly Hermione's mind couldn't remember those more important things she had to say.
Emotions flashed through her, each bringing his own feeling to the mix. It wasn't much later that Hermione began to feel boneless. Despite of her resistance failing, Harry didn't let her arms go, but pressed them tighter to her back, so that she had no choice of leaning against his front fully. She could feel the soft hardness of his body, and ignored the soft-hard-paradox that was begging to be analysed further.
Giving in entirely, it seemed like the intense fluttering warm emotion that swept through her would consume her. Trying to give as good as she got, she felt her strength failing again and again. Letting him ravish her mouth she held on desperately on the few rational thoughts inhabitating her mind, but it was in vain.
She felt light-headed and completely carefree, the feelings she had come to associate with the special dreams. Hermione had yet to decide if that was a good thing or bad…
The kiss seemed to go on forever, without the need of fresh oxygen ever arising. It was powerful and exciting beyond belief. Never would she have thought to feel so alive just because of a kiss.
Granted it wasn't just a kiss… It was something completely different and yet… the same. Their mouths seemed to communicate their desire for the other, and the feelings amplified every time there was an exchange of want from one to the other.
She felt like she'd lost her footing, like she was floating mid-air, like they were the only two people in the world,… All the cliché's ever made about true love: she seemed to be experiencing them all at the same time. Hermione was even led to believe that if he even touched her briefly, on any sensitive spot on her body (and the way she was tingling right now it would be anywhere on her skin), she'd combust then and there.
Slowly the intense feeling of being swept of her feet, thoroughly, desisted. Harry was still kissing her on her nose, the corner of her lips, her cheeks, her forehead…
For a short moment he pulled his head back, locking gazes with her. If she wouldn't have been boneless already, she would've melted all over again under his intensely green stare. As it was all she could do was lean in the arms that were restraining hers, and trying to plead with her eyes for him to kiss her like that again.
Harry was still looking at her with scorching emotion, and if Hermione was any weaker of will, she'd beg him on the spot to kiss her like she was the only person on this earth worthy of being kissed…
As if Harry'd heard her thoughts, he moved his head closer and Hermione could feel his shallow breath together with the anticipation of being worshipped like that again. A happy tension in her stomach was forming.
***
Hey everyone!
First of all, I want to thank those of you who have taken the time to review this story... It means a lot to hear that people like reading what I write...
Secondly, I want to apologize for not answering sooner about why I haven't been updating for a while... I'm truly sorry, to have kept you all waiting, but I do have a lot of work outside of my fantasy-world, and that has been taking first place on my priority-list lately...
But for all of those out there who were wondering if I stopped writing... NEVER! (well, maybe some time, but not yet)
Anyway, what I'm trying to say, is... I have gotten permission at the yahoo-group Prefect Blends to post my unfinished stuff there! That is to say: I normally don't like posting work-in-progress, or create shorter chapters, just to post sooner, but I was starting to get e-mails from worrying readers, who thought I'd stopped writing. So, if you want to have a bit of a taste on what's about to happen in the next chapter: just visit this site http://groups.yahoo.com/group/prefectblends/; go for 'Files', 'Unfinished Business', 'Nienie', and you'll find pieces of chapters that are being worked on by me... the next chapter of this fic will be Revenge, and should be partially posted by the end of the weekend
Enjoy!
xxx, Stietoe
PS:
By the way, I don't think I've mentioned this before, but I've been working on a little NC-17 spin-off of 'Love is Hope, Life After…': it's called 'Basical Caring', and it's about the Remus/Tonks relationship... Since I write 'Love is Hope…' from Hermione's point of view, I can't very well describe the more... naughty bits of Remus and Tonk's relationship in that fic… Anyway Portkey doesn't support the Remus/Nymphadora ship so I can't post it there, and I don't want to risk a pure NC-17 fic at Fanfiction.net, so you can read 'Basical Caring' at the yahoo group Prefect Blends, or at AdultFanFiction.Net under the penname 'Stietoe'…
If you have any other questions, please don't hesitate to mail me at nienie_gonagal@yahoo.com
***
Please remember to REVIEW!!!