Chapter 4 - A night to remember (I know what you're thinking, but this is gonna stay a PG fic :P)
After an erratic phone call home to his Uncle, which he was sure Hermione had heard every word of his Uncles threats to flay him alive when he got home, he found that Uncle Vernon was more bothered about being woken up in the middle of the night, rather than Harry's well-being.
He put the phone down and looked glumly at Hermione.
'I think he's okay with it,' he mumbled miserably. 'But I'm sure you heard anyway.'
She gave him a sympathetic smile and softly patted the couch next to her, gesturing for him to sit down beside her. His butterflies were about ready to jump out of his stomach at so much close contact with Hermione, but since the phone call they had subsided to make room for Misery to take its rightful place.
'I'm sorry, Harry.' She was looking at him with a weird expression on her face. Pity? Harry hated pity, but for some reason he wouldn't mind if it was from her. He stared at her questioningly. Why was she apologizing?
'I'm sorry you had to go through all that last year, and you still have to go back to that horrible place.' She was looking down, seemingly very interested in her hands.
'It's okay,' he told her, knowing full well that it wasn't , and he hated it. 'It's not your fault is it? Anyway, now that I know why I have to go there, for - for my safety, it just makes it a little more bearable.'
At these words Hermione looked up at him, a questioning eyebrow raised.
'Your safety?'
Harry paused. He had not shared what Dumbledore had told him about the prophecy with anyone, thinking that it would be too painful to share. But now, as he sat here with Hermione and after the day they had with so much close contact and being so happy, he felt as though he could tell her, as if he wanted to tell her. So he did.
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After an hour of Hermiones frequent sobs as Harry told her about the prophecy, and what it meant , how his life must end or include murder, they resorted to sitting motionless, hugging each other tightly. It was only when Harry noticed the time, did he finally decide to move.
Gently lifting Hermione's arms from him, he expected her to look up. She didn't he took it as a sign that she was fast asleep. He softly laid her down on the sofa, and brushed a few stray locks of smooth chestnut hair from her face. Even with her tear-stained cheeks, Harry could not stop thinking how beautiful she was. He trailed a finger over her cheek, her skin feeling soft and velvety, and softly stroked it absent-mindedly. She smiled in her sleep, and leaned her cheek into Harry's touch. He also smiled at this.
'Boy, you got it bad.'
That damn voice back again. Was it normal to keep hearing voices?
'What do you mean?' He asked it wearily
'Don't tell me you haven't figured it out yet.'
'Figured what out?'
'My god, you're dimmer than I thought.'
'Huh?'
'Hmm, let's see,' Once again it was sarcastic and harsh. 'Would you be sitting here stroking Ron or Ginny's cheek? Or hugging her while watching soppy movies?'
Harry did not answer.
'Like I said before,' the Nasty voice carried on 'If I didn't know better, Harry Potter, I'd say you were in love.'
The butterflies in Harry's stomach intensified so fast that Harry nearly urged. Looking down at Hermiones face, he smiled. He could not argue otherwise, he couldn't. He loved her.
'All right,' he told the voice in his head. ' You win.'
But the voice had already gone.
Harry spent the night sitting there beside Hermione, as if protecting her from some unknown force. He was only faintly aware, due to lack of sleep, that his hand had glided towards hers and locked his strong fingers around her slender ones, and he also did not notice, that she had tenderly squeezed them back.
He looked around at her just as the sun filtered through the pale pink curtains, sunlight spilling across her face, enlightening her graceful features. She was still asleep, looking more and more beautiful as the sun rose. Absent-mindedly, he bent over to kiss her softly on the forehead.
To his great surprise, as he pulled reluctantly away from her, he felt her pulling him back. He stared blankly at her, she was staring back, their noses but an inch from each other. Harry could feel her warm breath floating delicately on his lips, and as he parted them to run his tongue over them, Hermione pulled him right on top of her and seized his lips and a sweet kiss.
Fireworks were going off on Harry's head. Hermione was kissing him! Why the hell wasn't he kissing her back?
He began to move his lips a little, kissing her back. Kisses were never this good with Cho.
A hand unconsciously went up to cup her cheek, as she pulled him closer towards her. He vaguely noticed that he was directly on top of her, but she seemingly didn't care that much as she laid a hand on his back. He laid one of his on her small petite waist, and took a sharp intake of breath, , the butterflies were stabbing him with daggers from the inside. Hermione must have felt that he didn't want this, as she broke the kiss and looked breathlessly up at him.
'I'm sorry,' she gasped. 'I-I didn't… I-I mean… I-I just-'
But Harry smiled, and cut smoothly across her.
'There you go again, apologizing when you haven't done anything wrong.'
She gaped at him for a split-second, as if hardly daring to believe him. Then face split into that earth-shattering smile, and she let out a nervous laugh.
Harry laughed with her, mostly out of relief. He had hoped she wouldn't suddenly come to her senses and say she didn't mean it. He now hoped he wouldn't scare her off by saying-
'I love you.'
Harry blinked at her. She was looking sheepishly to the side, her beautiful smooth face, neck and shoulders blushing a brilliant strawberry red. His brain seemed to seemed to have failed, due to the dragging pain in his stomach. The butterflies were showing no mercy. He tried to answer her, but due to his overwhelming happiness, all that came out was a stutter.
'I- I- I…'
She shut your eyes, tears threatening to fill up the chocolate pools behind the eyelids. She was embarrassed. She had spilled out her secret to him, and he had just said nothing.
'It's okay if- if you don't love me. I- I just thought-'
She was cut off by Harry's lips, he had pressed his mouth onto hers in a desperate bid to tell her how he felt about her. He poured all emotion into this kiss, he had to make her understanding, she had to know.
He broke away and gasped at her, she gasped back. She was smiling, and it was then Harry knew she understood. He was expecting the butterflies to be eating him from the inside, but noticed that the butterflies had disappeared and had taken their daggers and raging bulls with them, there being a new feeling in it's place. Love.