Title: Almost There (02)
Author name: Feron Sanchez
Author email: neknekmo18@aol.com
Category: Romance
Sub Category: Humor
Keywords: Harry Hermione Towel
Rating: R
Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, FB, QTTA, OoTP
Summary: . Harry wakes up still confused. Ron and a pillow? Hermione deals with her wet bushy hair.
And to top it all of teenage hormones in the mix.
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various
publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc.
No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author notes: Thank you to my beta MDiezel for her neverending patience. Watch out for her fics,
she's an amazing writer. Also thank you to my grammar picker and emergency helper, Tomikin! I owe you for this
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He had the same dream again last night. It would always be a girl in a white flowing dress with her silky dark hair flowing in the wind. She was saying something to him. A black blindfold was over her eyes.
Harry tried to run towards the mysterious figure but she would always disappear before he even got near her. They were always in a dark cave, similar to the cave Sirius hid in years ago
Sirius...
Two years have passed since his beloved godfather died. He has since experienced a lot of other things in his life and everything just kept on getting harder and harder to bear. He was not sure where to get any solitude from anymore. Even his thoughts were overbearing and disturbing.
He had to find his release before he breaks down.
'Should I find a girlfriend? Maybe a shag buddy?' he thought.
He turned over so his face was against the pillow, blocking off the light coming through the hangings on his bed. He tightened the blanket around himself and tried to go back to sleep.
'No, it will complicate things more,' he sighed.
He grunted loudly and buried his face under his pillow trying to block out any thoughts that would come.
'Fuck. I need a Sleeping Draught or maybe some Dreamless Sleep potion. Anything!' He squirmed again trying to find a more comfortable position.
After several more minutes of tossing and turning, he gave up and sat up on the bed. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head to wake himself up. The moment he sat up cold air touched his exposed skin and gave him goose pimples all over. He shoved the hangings away and reached for his glasses. The enchanted alarm clock on his bedside table indicated that it was just 7:00 am in this Saturday morning.
"Shit!" he yelled.
His careless yell woke the others up and he barely ducked the hex that one of his roommates cast on him.
"Harry! Shut up! It's Saturday! The weekend! Sleep in!" Dean muttered under the covers. Seamus tried to give Harry
a glare but it just came out to be a comical expression with his eyes still half-closed. Ron, on the other hand, slept soundly as evidenced by his loud and steady snoring. Harry threw a pillow at Ron, hitting him smack on the face.
"Oh Merlin! You're so soft...," Ron mumbled as he crushed the pillow to his face
Harry couldn't control his laughter anymore and made a weird strangled sound. "Ron! You bloody wanker! Stop snogging my pillow! I didn't know you dreamt of shagging the Great Merlin!" he yelled.
Ron immediately sat up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Mppphh? Huh? What?" a disoriented Ron asked the laughing blur in front of him.
"Sorry! Can't help it if your best friend is a horny arse!" Harry chortled.
"Sod off, mate! If you can't sleep then leave us alone! It's mine now!" he said. He closed his hangings sharply and muttered a string of curse words at his best friend.
"Oy! You better let the elves wash that or else it'll smell like you for the rest of the week! Don't want to have a smelly Ron as a pillow," he snickered.
"Shut up, Harry!" Dean cried.
"Sorry! Been having those dreams again." He buried his face in his hands.
His dreams were now occurring regularly; it didn't bother his dorm mates any more. If he yelled 'Voldemort' he'd get the reaction he wanted but he'd also get hexed afterwards for scaring them.
"Go to Hermione," Ron mumbled.
Harry's eyes suddenly lit up. He felt considerably warm just hearing her name even if it just came from Ron's mouth. He thought for a moment. Cozy bed or Hermione? He chose the latter.
"Good idea, Ron! I might give you a pat on the back later," he smirked. Ron countered with his middle finger up in the air.
He got up from his comfortable bed and went to the bathroom. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, making sure to smell fresh and clean. He put on a clean white shirt and a pair of Dudley's old jeans. Good thing baggy jeans were in style, or else he'd be mercilessly teased. It was one of his favorites since Morgan told him he looked adorable with the waist of the jeans hanging halfway down his arse. He put on the new belt she gave him and put on some socks. His old belt was tattered and looked like it was also too long that it looped his waist two times.
Although Harry will admit that he didn't care about his looks, he still carried his clothes with a sense of flair since Morgan told him he'd look better if he improved his appearance a bit. They went shopping for clothes with his saved up money. He had his own fashion consultant and it boosted up his confidence. He was seventeen years old and he felt it was time to let loose.
'Fuck Voldemort,' he shook his head and looked at the mirror. His wild black hair was unkempt as always. The
mirror let out a loud sigh at his appearance.
"What? Don't I look okay?" he raised his eyebrow at his reflection.
"You should really give up trying to tame your hair. Besides, you look good with the ends up. You look like your father."
He stared at his reflection once more and nodded his head solemnly at the mirror.
"You're so handsome, Harry! There are probably a lot of girls throwing themselves at you," the mirror gushed.
"Oh yeah, they're tripping all over their feet to get to me," he retorted sarcastically. Since when did this mirror like him? It usually had mocking remarks for him every time he would look at it.
"You should get try to get over your shyness. It's not even normal anymore."
"Yeah, whatever," said Harry.
"Oh for crying out loud, Potter! Wake up! Even your housemates are more confident than you are!"
"I'm not trying to compete with them, Zai!" He was losing his patience with this mirror. It gave the boys its name after calling it several rude ones before.
"Fine, whatever. You look good. You look fine. And you're going to be mine!" it sang off key.
"Zai, shut up. It's too early for your concerts."
He rarely conversed with Zai but this was the first time it called him handsome. He felt surprisingly good about it.
"Enjoy your day, Scarface!"
He laughed at the comment. The mirror reminded him of Draco Malfoy. At first it was awkward hearing it rant about their physical attributes but after several years of being with it, they were used to its outrageous comments. The good thing about her it was that it didn't tell others about their private business. It would seem to be a loud tattletale but it wasn't. It was loyal to every person. The only thing was that it was terribly annoying at times.
"Bye, Zai!" He gave the mirror a cheeky grin and went out of the bathroom.
He wished and hoped silently to the great wizards that Hermione would be up. It was 7:25 am and the common room was still empty. He looked up at the stairs that led to the girls' dormitories and debated inwardly. Should he attempt climbing the steps or should he just wait for her? He thought of using his Firebolt to reach the top of the steps but that might be a bit too preposterous. He grimaced at the former since he didn't want to risk his neck either.
His face was now betraying his confusion.
"Harry!" a scolding tone from above invaded his thoughts.
"'Mione!" He blushed. She must be wondering why he was stupidly standing in front of the girls' staircase.
"What are you doing up this early?" She frowned at him.
Her hands were placed firmly on her hips and her hair was still a bit damp. She was wearing a plain pink 'Free Winona' shirt and frayed jeans. Her Muggle t-shirts were the best. The other students wouldn't get it if their life depended on it. Ron kept asking questions about them and she'd go crazy trying to explain it to him. Last week she had her 'Trainspotting' shirt on with the picture of a syringe at the back. It was humorous and unique. It was very Hermione.
"Harry!" She snapped her fingers in front of his face.
"Mione!" Harry stepped back slightly, surprised to see her suddenly standing right in front of him.
"You said that already. What's wrong with you? Are you sick? Did you have another nightmare? Did Ron kick you out of the dorm? Did....?" She was cut off by his hand over her mouth.
"If I don't stop you, we will never get to breakfast"
She glared at him. "Mmpf...mmpf..!"
"Oops...sorry. I just couldn't sleep," he chuckled softly.
"Oh, I just came from a bath. I couldn't sleep either," she flipped her hair towards her back.
"Your hair is still wet. You're dripping all over the floor you know."
She followed his gaze on the floor. She saw a small wet trail from the portrait hole to where she was standing. She blushed. "I seem to have forgotten to do a drying spell and it's hard just using a towel to dry this stupid long bushy hair. Besides, my arms are tired."
He laughed at her. "Mione, you want me to dry your hair for you?" She blushed at his question.
'Did she just blush at me?'
"Err... if you have your wand, it'd be easier," she said.
"I never used a drying spell on hair before. I usually just let my hair dry naturally since the end result will still be the same. It would still be all over the place," he shrugged nonchalantly.
He shifted in his place. He felt really awkward now. She was radiating this enticing aura and he felt small in front of her. Harry took out his wand and placed it on top of her wet hair.
"No, stop. You might mess it up." She forgot that she was talking to one of the most powerful wizards in the world.
Harry, with a relieved sigh, removed his wand from her hair. He has never attempted a drying spell before and had some doubts about being able to do it successfully at the first try.
She took his hand and sat him on the couch. She slid next to him and he realized that they just sat inches apart from each other. She handed him her towel, put it in his hands and quickly turned around from him, with her back to him.
"Umm... You want me to towel dry your hair then?" He sounded unsure of himself and looked at her back.
"Honestly! Harry, isn't it obvious?" she irritably sighed, her still wet hair glistening against the morning light. He suddenly leaned forward to smell her hair. Her hair smelled like a rose garden in full bloom. She didn't realize what he was doing when she suddenly flipped her hair again fully hitting him in the face.
"Ow! But don't you have another dry..."
"Oh, sorry, Harry. No, I don't but that one's practically dry, right?"
"It's fine," wiping his face with his sleeve. She turned around again.
"Harry! I'm dripping here. Just rub it dry!"
He put the towel in her hair and started gently rubbing the ends of it. The flowery scent of her shampoo intoxicated him. He put the towel up a bit to rub the side where her hairline and ears met. She then did something un-Hermione-like. She unexpectedly giggled.
"Did you just giggle?" She felt his breath against her ear. She immediately stiffened and tried to compose herself.
"No, I did not!"
He laughed at her reaction. "Yes, you did."
"No, I didn't!" She was terribly red all over the face. She thanked the gods that her back was turned and she faced away from him.
"Wanna bet?" he rubbed the same spot again and got the same result. She was now giggling uncontrollably. Her shoulders were shaking a bit and her hand moved to cover her mouth to stop giggling.
Harry rubbed the top of her head and under her hair. He wiped the wetness on her nape and under her ears. She stopped giggling and all of a sudden made moaning sounds.
He was getting uncomfortable at the situation. A moaning Hermione could bring about his downfall. He was trying hard to restrain himself from pulling her to him.
Harry let go of the towel and just kneaded his palms on her shoulder blades putting moderate pressure on them.
'"Oh, that feels good. Yeah, right there. Just up a little bit more. There. Ohhhh... that feels so good."
Harry felt tense all over. He felt all his blood rushing to that uncomfortable spot inside his pants. 'Oh God!'
She was unaware of the torture she inflicted on him. The sound of her voice so gratified was causing quite a stir in his lower body. Although he felt cruelly unsatisfied, he enjoyed every moment of it. Every sound, every movement, every scent coming from her body was intensely enticing.
"Harry, please don't stop," she barely whispered.
He took the towel and let it fall on his lap; trying to hide his reaction. He summoned all the traits of a Gryffindor in order to continue his task. Harry put her hair to the other side of her neck and slowly put his hands on either side. The feel of warmth against his hands gave him shivers.
This was skin-to-skin contact.
This was Hermione.
This was Hermione under his hands writhing in satisfaction and glory.
She was being seductive.
And he didn't know what to do.
Harry's face all of a sudden contorted into a silly grin as he leaned forward. He was about to kiss the space between her shoulder and neck when a deep voice interrupted.
"Oy! What the bloody hell are you two doing?"