Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter related.
A/N: Since this chapter is pretty short, I'm also uploading chapter five for your reading enjoyment. Please read and review!
Love Letters
Chapter 4
"Hermione dear, you seem distracted."
"I'm fine Mum," the teenager replied, gazing into the darkness behind the car window. So many thoughts were swarming through her head that it was making her dizzy. She blinked and turned to face her mother who was looking at her with an amused expression.
"Harry's a fine young man," the woman smiled, turning back around in her leather seat.
"I agree," Hermione's father chimed in, "quite the gentleman."
Hermione remained silent and stared back out the window, getting lost in her thoughts again. The entire night had happened so quickly, she couldn't even believe it had happened. Harry had been flirting with her all night; and she didn't deny that she had flirted back occasionally. He was even going to kiss her. She was going to kiss him. But then she ruined it. . .
Before Hermione had realized it, her feet had walked her up the stairs and into her room where she could sort herself together. She dropped her purse on her desk chair and plopped herself down on her bed. She closed her eyes, but all she could see was Harry's smiling face. She got up and walked to her vanity and again she saw Harry's bright emerald eyes in one of her many pictures.
"What's wrong with me?" Hermione said to herself. "I can't think about Harry that way, he's my friend. And even if I did like him in that way, he would never like me; I'm just Hermione." As 'Just Hermione' debated with herself for the next few minutes, she failed to notice Hedwig swoop into her open window. The girl was caught quite off guard when she finally did hear the bird hooting loudly.
"Sorry," Hermione muttered, as she untied the letter from the owl's foot, "I'm just as annoyed with myself as you are."
Hedwig hooted a sweet reply as Hermione pet her gently. Finally, the owl flew to the bedpost for a nap and Hermione could read her letter.
Dear Hermione,
I know you said you would write first but I couldn't help myself. I had an unbelievable time tonight. It was so great to see you. And guess what? The Dursley's are so pleased that they got your dad's account and they think I helped them get it. If I "hadn't won their daughter over," they would've never gotten it. Thanks so much for coming. I can tell that they're going to be a lot kinder towards me, for a short while at least.
I hope you had as wonderful a time as I did. It wasn't just talking with you or seeing you that made this night so important to me; it's the fact of just being with you that really spared my sanity. I was about to go insane in that house. You saved me. I owe you one.
Your parents are two of the nicest people in the world. No wonder you're their pride and joy. Your dad's got quite the sense of humor. I can't see why you aren't into sports though. Both your parents seem to be fanatics. But I suppose everything doesn't have to be genetic.
It's getting late and I want you to get this as soon as possible. Write me whenever you can. I'll be waiting.
Love, Harry
"He'll be waiting," Hermione laughed as she finished the letter. Harry obviously didn't know how else to end the letter. She sighed as she read the letter over again. She had a wonderful time that night as well. But the peek of it was when she was alone with Harry in his room. They talked for a while but later laid down for a short nap. Hermione couldn't sleep though. Harry was so close to her that she couldn't get any part of him out of her mind. His face, his scent, his touch was just intoxicating her. After some time, his right arm slid around her waist and pulled her a bit closer to him. It might have been a reflex of his while he was sleeping, or he might have done it on purpose, but either way, it sent chills up Hermione's spine; chills, which she liked.
-:-
Harry sat in the living room the next day, flipping the channels on the TV. For the first time in his life, his uncle
said he could watch what he wanted. Things just kept getting better and better for Harry and he knew it was all because
of Hermione. The phone rang and his uncle slowly got up to get it.
"Dursley speaking," Harry could hear him grunt in the hallway, "looking for Harry are you my dear?" he chuckled. "Well it just so happens he's playing ball outside with Dudley, I'll go get him."
Harry smiled as he watched his uncle trudge slowly back to the living room.
"It's your little friend from last night," he said, as he made his way to the couch.
"Thanks," Harry chirped as he tried to contain him self from running to the phone. "Hello?"
"They think I'm your girlfriend now don't they?"
"Hey Herm," Harry laughed, "what's so wrong with that?"
"I didn't say anything was," the girl replied, "I find it amusing actually."
"Same here," Harry answered. If Hermione could see the smile on his face that instant he'd die of shame. It's almost as if he liked the thought of Hermione being his girlfriend. "So, how's my girl doing?"
"Shut up Harry," Hermione snapped on the other end of the line.
"I wasn't talking about you, I was talking about you mother."
"Harry!"
The next hour and a half was full of deep conversations and prolonged laughter. By the time Harry and Hermione finally parted, the Dursley's were sitting down to dinner.
"The Granger girl seems to like you Harry," Petunia said. It was an odd moment for Harry. His aunt seemed to be pleased, giddy, and even happy for him. Harry figured it was because of the money they were going to get from Hermione's parents, but it was almost like she was being a real aunt, meddling in her nephew's business.
"I suppose," Harry shrugged, trying to hide the grin that was etching onto his face.
"She's a sweet girl," his aunt went on, "very bright too. Top of class at, what school was it?"
"St. Anne's," came a mumble from Dudley's side of the table.
'That's it! St. Anne's School for Promising Young Women. It's a boarding school in Ireland I believe. She's only here for the summer."
"I know," Harry muttered through a mouthful of German potato salad.
"I wouldn't be surprised if she called again," Vernon chuckled, "whenever you weren't in the room Harry, you're all she asked about. You be nice to the girl. It's good for business."
"I know Uncle Vernon," Harry said, finishing his plate and excusing himself from the table. This was too strange for Harry. For the first time his family was acting like, well, family, almost.
"Where are you going?" Aunt Petunia called after him.
"I promised Hermione I'd call her back," Harry said, "can I use the phone in your room?"
"Oh, I suppose," Vernon grunted, after a moment of conversing with his spouse.
Harry tried not to run up the stairs but once he made it to the landing, he dashed down the hall to the master bedroom. He dialed her number with such ease and precision; it was almost as if he had called the girl dozens of times before.
"Hello?"
"They think you're my girlfriend."
Hermione's laughter rang on the other line.
"Oh God," she muttered, "we must be really persuasive."
"Hey, I can't help it if you flirt with me constantly."
"What? Me? A flirt? What are you talking about? You're the flirt!"
After ten minutes of continuous bickering of who was the bigger flirt, Harry ended it.
"I think we should date."
For a good five minutes all Harry was listening to was complete silence.
"Are you still with me Herm?"
"Yea," she mumbled, "what did you say?"
"I said that I think we should date," Harry repeated.
"Why?"
"Not literally, I mean pretend. Listen Herm; you don't know how well the Dursley's have been treating me today. They think it was your influence that got them your parent's account."
"Well, technically it was Harry."
"Hold on, just hear me through Herm," Harry continued, "they think that I actually like you and that you like me. If I break your heart, they're afraid that you'll tell your parents and the whole deal will be canceled. The more I see you, the better they'll treat me and the more freedom I'll have. It's just for the rest of the summer anyway. After that, I go back to Hogwarts and you go back to St. Anne's right?"
"St. Anne's," Hermione stated with a giggle. "Sure, okay, I'll go out with you."
"Great," Harry grinned, "is tomorrow ok?"
"Any day is fine by me."
"Then let's see, what'll we do?"
"You're obviously new at this so allow me," Hermione said, taking over from there. They planned to meet at a movie theater in downtown London at 6:30 the following evening.
"So it's a date," Harry smiled.
"Yea, if that's what you want to call it," Hermione said, a little downtrodden.
"Anything wrong Herm?" Harry asked, alarmed.
"No, just tired," she replied, yawning. "See you tomorrow Harry."
Hermione hung up the phone and lay back on her bed. A tear silently fell from her eye, down her cheek, and fell off her face, disappearing in the sheets. Another tear followed and soon another one. She didn't know what was wrong with her. Then Harry's words came back into her mind. . . "They think that I actually like you. . ."
"I guess he can't see it," she whispered.
For the first time in so long, Hermione Granger had cried herself to sleep.