Author's note: This is a purely Harry/Hermione chapter. I wrote the last part of it when I wasn't feeling all that great…I think I have some sort of a stomach bug, but I won't get into that with you now…I know you don't want to hear about that anymore than I want to talk about it! Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please read and review! The song for this chapter comes from one of my favorites. I think you'll see after you read this that it kind of fits the mood of the chapter.
Chapter Eight
Let's Get it On
"I've been really tryin , baby
Tryin to hold back these feelings for so long
And if you feel, like I feel baby
Come on, oh come on,
Let's get it on
Lets get it on"
(Marvin Gaye/"Let's Get it On")
The following Thursday evening found Hermione in sort of a sticky situation. It had all started out quite innocently enough. Harry had Quidditch practice, so she'd decided to use the time wisely and get a head start on that Arithmancy essay she was supposed to be writing.
After grabbing a quick bite to eat in the Great Hall with Neville and Lavender, she'd gone back to the comforts of her suite. She'd changed out of her school uniform and pulled on a pair of her favorite, most comfortable blue pajama pants and a white camisole top. She had pulled her hair back with a clip and was enjoying the warmth of the fire as she read over her Arithmancy text and jotted down notes on her parchment.
This was one of her favorite things to do…sit in front of a warm fire with her homework and just enjoy the quiet, comfortable surroundings. It was so great not having roommates this year. Hermione liked Parvati and Lavender---she really did, but her fellow seventh-year Gryffindors were more giggling, flirting and squealing over makeup and dating and boys. It wasn't that Hermione didn't enjoy a good laugh and didn't like talking to Lavender and Parvati. It just got to be too much sometimes; especially when Hermione wanted to read or study or sleep.
This suite proved that working hard and getting good marks paid off. She absolutely adored this place. Most of all, she
treasured the fact that she and Harry were able to share it together. It was a place they could call their own. It was
a place where they could be themselves and relax and enjoy each other's company.
Hermione smiled as she thought about him. She immediately cursed herself for veering off course. She was supposed to be working on her essay not getting all dreamy-eyed over her boyfriend. There was a time and place for that, and that time wasn't now. She had an essay to finish.
__________________________________________________
Nearly an hour later, a sweaty Harry came barreling into their room. He looked exhausted.
"How was your practice?" Hermione asked as she watched him set his gear down on the table.
"You don't even want to know," Harry said, taking a seat on the couch.
"That bad?" she asked, not looking up at him, as she furiously wrote on her parchment.
"Yeah," Harry said, looking at her in amusement. Hermione was obviously not paying attention to a word he was saying. Harry decided to have a little fun with his girlfriend.
"So, we were practicing, right?" Harry began, looking down at his girlfriend, who was still writing away like there was no tomorrow. "And then Ron strips down to his underwear and starts singing show tunes at the top of his lungs. We were all shocked at first, of course, but in the end, we were yelling out requests. He was singing everything, Merlin bless him. He's really a true professional that Ron Weasley. He's even thought about taking his act on the road with Snape."
Hermione absently turned a page in her book as she just muttered, "Uh-huh."
Harry stifled a laugh.
"They might even do one of those compilation albums like you see on television," Harry said, looking at her. "I mean, can you just see the two of them singing Britain's greatest love songs. Once Ron Weasley and Severus Snape sing a song, it's eternally theirs."
Hermione looked up to nod her head and then looked confusedly up at her boyfriend.
"What's this about Ron and Snape?" Hermione asked.
"So, you were listening?" Harry asked, pinching her shoulder affectionately.
"Not really," she said. "I heard the important parts."
"Uh-huh," Harry said, getting up and heading toward the bathroom.
"I'm sorry," Hermione called after him. "I promise to be better company when you get out of the shower."
"I'm going to hold you to that," Harry said, with a laugh.
"I will," Hermione affirmed. She crinkled her nose at him. "Besides, you smelled bad."
"Well, let's see how you smell after a Quidditch practice," Harry said defensively.
"I was only kidding," she said, smiling at him. "You don't smell-"
"Thank you," he said.
"That badly," Hermione finished, with a twinkle in her eye.
"Ha, ha, ha," Harry said, walking into the bathroom. "That was sooo funny, Granger."
Hermione laughed as she returned to her reading.
A few minutes later, Harry returned to the common room in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. His hair was still damp from his shower and he was carrying a couple of his own textbooks.
Hermione was still sitting on the floor in front of the fire. Harry took a seat on the couch behind her.
"I'll just sit up here so the stench won't bother you too much," Harry said.
Hermione rolled her eyes and closed her book. She pushed her books away and got to her feet and took a seat beside Harry, who pretended to ignore her.
She looked over at him and placed her hand on his knee.
"I see how you are now, Miss Granger," Harry said, opening his book. "I come in here after a tough practice and you can't even bat an eyelash at me all because I was sweating and may have had an odor to me."
"May have had an odor?" Hermione asked, relishing their banter.
"Okay, I stunk," Harry admitted. "But, the moment I take a shower and smell like an Irish garden, you want to sit with me. You sure are a fickle kind of girl, you know that?"
"I know that," she said. "What can I do to make it up to you?"
"I don't know if you can," Harry said, trying to hide a smile. "You've cut me deeply, Hermione."
Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. She watched Harry "reading" and then an idea came to her head. She got up slowly from the couch and came around and placed her hands on his shoulders and slowly began to massage.
"How's that for a start?" Hermione asked.
"It's okay," Harry replied coyly. He leaned forward a little bit as she gently kneaded his shoulders. "Actually, that's pretty bloody fantastic."
"Thank you," she replied. She leaned down and planted a kiss on the back on his neck. "How about that?"
"That's good, too," Harry said, a little flustered. "How did you get to be so good at this?"
"Just a natural I guess," Hermione said, gently running her fingers down his back.
"You like that?" she asked, amused.
"It's alright," Harry said, huskily.
An idea suddenly came to Hermione and she moved her hands lower down toward his waist. She smiled devilishly as she suddenly tickled his side and he began to laugh. In the commotion, he was able to grab her hand and pull her over the couch. She nearly fell off, but he was able to grab her just in time. They were both laughing hysterically and Hermione went in for the kill again, but this time Harry's seeker reflexes kicked in and he retaliated by tickling her on her side.
"Okay," Hermione said, breathlessly laughing. "Okay. I give. I give!"
They were both laughing as Harry looked down at her and thought he'd never seen her look more beautiful as she did, looking up at him, with her eyes shining and her face full of laughter. His own laughter died away as he took his hand and softly caressed her cheek.
"What is it?" Hermione asked.
"I love you," he said simply.
"What?" she asked, not sure if she'd heard him right and wanting to have him say it once more.
"I love you," he whispered.
"You've never said that to me before," she said, her own voice soft and emotional.
"I've never said that to anyone before," he replied.
"Harry," Hermione said, her eyes now shining with tears.
"I love you, too," she said quietly. "I always have, I think."
He smiled down at her and not knowing what else he could say or do, he did the thing that felt most natural and right. He leaned down and kissed her softly. He felt her arms wrap around him as he deepened the kiss. She moaned softly as he settled himself over her.
Hermione knew that this was getting out of hand quickly, but she didn't have the willpower to tell him to stop. She wasn't sure---no, she knew---that she didn't want him to stop. This felt right. She could feel his warm hand on her stomach as he pulled her camisole top up. She shivered a bit as his hand worked its way up to her breasts.
All coherent thought and rationality went out the window as she gave into the sensation of his hands on her skin. Not wanting him to have all the fun, she allowed her own hands to lift up his white, cotton t-shirt as she let her hands roam around the warm skin on his back.
They were both so wrapped up in each other that neither of them heard the persistent knocking on the front door to their suite. They didn't hear the door open and they certainly didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching them.
"Miss Granger? Mr. Potter?" a familiar voice called out to them from somewhere in the room. Hermione and Harry froze in place. Professor McGongall was in their suite!
"Do you think she saw us?" Hermione whispered to Harry.
"I don't know," Harry said, easing himself away quietly from Hermione.
"Where are you two?" Professor McGonagall called again.
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief that from Professor McGongall's viewpoint, she only could see the back of the couch and most certainly hadn't seen what they were doing. Now, the tricky thing would be getting up from the couch without making it seem obvious what they had been doing.
Hermione shoved Harry down off the couch and he yelped as he hit the floor.
Hermione then arose from the couch and smiled as nonchalantly as she could muster at Professor McGongall.
"What are you doing here, Professor?" Hermione asked.
Harry got to his feet from in front of the couch and smiled innocently at McGonagall.
McGonagall looked quite suspicious as she took in the sight before her. Hermione suddenly noticed that her camisole top straps were hanging low on her shoulders and her hair looked a fright. She looked helplessly at Harry, whose own glasses were sitting askew on his face.
"I was knocking at your door for nearly twenty minutes," Professor McGonagall said. "When I didn't get an answer, I remembered the password to your suite and let myself in. I was afraid that something was the matter."
"Nothing's the matter," Hermione stammered. "We're just fine, a-aren't we, Harry?"
"Yeah," Harry said, nodding. "Perfectly fine."
McGonagall didn't look convinced for one moment.
"I, um, was just helping Harry find his book," Hermione said quickly. "It was under the couch and we were just, um,-"
She looked to Harry for help---to corroborate what she was saying.
"We found the book," Harry said. He bent down and picked up a textbook from the floor and held it up for McGonagall to see.
"See?" Harry said. "A book."
"I can see that, Potter," McGonagall said. She looked pointedly at the two of them. Her eyes were glaring into them, almost as if she could see right through them. "I'm old, you know, but not senile."
"Of course," Harry said, uncomfortably.
"What brings you here, Professor?" Hermione asked quickly.
"You two were supposed to be patrolling the grounds tonight?" McGonagall said. "Remember?"
"I completely forgot!" Hermione exclaimed, hitting herself on the forehead with her hand. "I was working so hard on my essay and-"
"Helping Potter find his book, Miss Granger?" McGonagall finished for her.
"Exactly," Hermione said, sheepishly, looking away.
"Well, if you two would hurry along now and get to your patrolling," McGonagall said. "If not, I could get some of the prefects to carry out."
"No," Hermione said. "That's okay. It's part of our duty to do that. It's our responsibility."
McGonagall nodded.
"Good evening to you both," she said, looking again at them as if she didn't buy their story for one moment. They both braced themselves for the lecture they knew was to come. To their utter amazement, it didn't. With one last reproachful look, McGonagall turned on her heels and walked quietly out of the room.
Harry and Hermione stood frozen solid in place until they heard the door shut behind their professor.
"That was close," Hermione whispered.
"Yeah," Harry agreed, sitting back down on the couch.
"In more ways then one," Hermione said, sitting down beside him.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked her.
"Well, if she hadn't have shown up, what would have happened?" Hermione asked. "I mean, we were-"
"We were just snogging," Harry finished for her.
"We weren't 'just' snogging, Harry," Hermione said, looking at him. "We were doing a hell of a lot more than that and you know it."
He nodded. "I would never pressure you, you know that? If you'd told me to stop, I would have."
"I know," she said, smiling at him. "Which is one of the things I love most about you. I love you, Harry. I do."
"I know that," Harry said, taking her hand. "I love you, too."
"I think we should talk about this," Hermione said.
He nodded.
"I don't think I'm ready to do that, just yet," Hermione said. "I know this is going to sound so old-fashioned and stupid, but I've always thought I would wait until I was married before I did that."
She looked away from him, not wanting to see the look on his face.
"That's not stupid," Harry said, giving her hand a squeeze.
"It's not?" she asked, looking up at him properly.
"No," he said. "If that's what you've decided, I respect that. I won't lie to you by telling you that I didn't want to be with you like that, because I do. I really do."
She smiled.
"But not until you're ready," he said. "And not until I'm ready."
Hermione threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you, too," he said, resting his head on her shoulder.
"We better go and get dressed properly to do the patrolling thing," Hermione said, letting go of him.
"Yeah," Harry said, leaning in and kissing her softly and chastely.
He got to his feet and offered his hand to help her to hers.
"How embarrassing was that?" Harry asked. "You don't think she saw what we were doing, do you?"
"No," Hermione said, shaking her head. "But I think she knew exactly what we were doing."
"That's what I was afraid of," Harry said.
Hermione turned toward her own bedroom and Harry toward his. As Hermione grabbed the doorknob, she stopped and turned around.
"Harry?" she asked, calling to him.
"Yeah?"
"It could have been worse, you know?"
"How do you mean?" Harry asked, looking at her.
"It could have been Snape who walked in here," Hermione said, deadpan.
"Perish the thought," Harry said, feeling a sickening feeling come over him at the thought.
"But, then again," Hermione said cheekily. "He and Ron were probably cutting their album of love songs."
Harry grinned at her. "Ah-hah! You were listening!"
"Always," Hermione said, beaming at him. "Always."