While you were in a coma
<Chapter Five>
<Awakenings>
"Oh, Hermione, are you still on that?" asked Ron for the fifth time that day, as he continued to munch on his piece of pie.
It was barely two days after professor Trelawney had spoken her prediction; and, after careful thinking, Ron and Harry decided to tell Hermione what she had said to them. Ron was sure Hermione would just dismiss it like she always did, as she did all things related to their Divinations teacher. However, it appeared that his assumption was wrong; she had taken it quite seriously and started worrying about what it all meant.
"Of course I'm still thinking about it!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly, glaring at him. "And frankly, I don't understand why you aren't!" she huffed.
"I tend not to listen to crackpot theories," Ron replied, grabbing another slice, "Besides, you never believed her before, why start now?"
"This could be important. What if something happens to Ha-.... to us?" Hermione defended quickly, desperately hoping her boyfriend (or Harry, for that matter) hadn't caught what she had almost said.
Ron looked up, eyeing her for a second. "Nothing will happen; you don't have to worry about us," Ron answered slowly, in a strange, almost angry tone.
Harry was only half-listening to their conversation. He appeared to be gazing at his plate, but his mind was elsewhere. Where three were standing, only two will remain. The ghost of professor Trelawney's cold voice still echoed repeatedly through his mind ever since she'd spoken those words. What did it all mean? Was Voldemort going to attack already? Where three were standing. Did this involve Ron, Hermione and him? Since first year, where their wild adventures had begun, the three of them had always been together in the battles. ...only two will... Those tree words rang through Harry's mind relentlessly. It couldn't be. It just couldn't. Would something happen to Ron? Or Herm? Harry stabbed his fork at his uneaten pie with great force.
Hermione and Ron ended their glaring competition at this sudden movement from Harry, and they both turned to face him. Hermione was heart-broken; since third year, when professor Trelawney had correctly predicted the return of You- Know-Who, she'd admitted that the old bat indeed had some amount of power to see into the future. This was the reason why, ever since Harry and Ron had shared the piece of disturbing information with her, she hadn't been able to think of anything else. As she was carefully observed Harry's tense profile, her anxiety grew within her. What professor Trelawney had said...it couldn't be. It just couldn't be true. What if something happened to Ron? Or Harry? What would the world possibly do without Harry Potter...what would she...?
Hermione's gaze lowered to Harry's hand. He was still holding the fork with such strength that his knuckles were turning white. Hermione felt frustrated; she didn't like this, not being able to do something to at least alleviate a bit of his tension. Her eyes still fixed upon his hand, she slowly began to move her hand towards Harry's. Maybe if he knew that she would be there with him, if he felt her support...
"SO!" Ron exclaimed, loudly and unexpectedly; it broke Hermione's concentration and her resolve. Harry started, snapping out of his reverie at Ron's voice. He turned to him, but suddenly noticed Hermione's outstretched hand near his. He turned to her, silently wondering what she had meant to do, and was about to ask her, but she'd already pulled away; so rapidly, in fact, that she knocked over her goblet of pumpkin juice. "Does anyone know why we haven't had Defence Against the Dark Arts yet?" asked Ron, speaking loudly and forcefully.
"They're saying that the new teacher hasn't arrived yet..." Harry replied, but not quite able to tear his eyes away from Hermione, who was keeping herself purposefully busy, frantically wiping up the spilt juice with some napkins.
"Harry!" Ron almost screamed, attempting to grab his friend's attention. When Harry finally turned to face him, he looked so tired and worried that Ron swallowed back what he'd intended to say. "Are you ok?" he asked instead, genuinely concerned for his friend.
"It's just that I hate having this feeling of complete helplessness," Harry confessed, slamming his hands on the table to emphasize his point, "I want to do something...to fight back...to not give in...." Harry trailed, struggling to express his mixed feelings.
Hermione stopped cleaning her mess, and for the first time since she'd heard the news, she felt confident she could help, "There are many things we can do!" she exclaimed energetically, "You know that the best way to be prepared is to get informed. The best thing we could do now is head to the library and start investigating on anything and everything! A spell, a charm or maybe a potion we can use to protect ourselves!" Hermione beamed, her confidence returning with each word. She tugged at Harry's wrists persistently.
Harry laughed shortly at Hermione's attitude. Of course her answer to a problem would be the library; nevertheless, he allowed himself be pulled up by her, "But...but... Hermione!" Ron interrupted again, carefully scrutinizing Hermione yanking at Harry's wrists.
"What?" she asked innocently, one arm clutching her bag, the other still gripping tightly onto Harry's wrists.
"We have this period free, remember? No Defence Against the Dark Arts right now," Ron explained slowly, trying to give her a meaningful look.
"Yes I know, and that's why we have enough time to go to the library," Hermione exclaimed matter-of-factly.
"But you promised we could go for a walk around the lake during our free period," Ron reminded her meaningfully, finally standing and walking up in front of Hermione.
A warm flush spread across Hermione's face, and it was a few seconds before she recovered, and was able to reply. "Oh, honestly! Ron Weasley, we have enough time for...for such activities! Clearly you can see that this is far more important," Hermione stated, her face regaining its natural peaches-and-cream colouring. "Now, are you coming or not?"
The only response that came from Ron's part was incoherent mumbling as he started walking ahead of them with his head bowed and arms crossed. Harry, however, wasn't listening to the conversation; this time, though, it wasn't because of his worry with Trelawney's prediction, but rather because he was savouring the feel of Hermione's delicate fingers curled around his wrist...Harry's cheeks began to flame again, which was getting rather suspicious. Why was it that the only time this occurred seemed to be when...
Harry couldn't finish his last thought, for at that moment he felt a great tug from Hermione, signalling him to continue walking. Right...he had forgotten...the library.
***
A month has passed rather rapidly, considering the time Harry, Hermione and Ron had been spending in the library. Throw
in loads of homework and studying, and you had one incredibly full schedule.
However, Harry was extremely grateful that nothing had happened during that period of time. Maybe nothing was going to happen, maybe professor Trelawney was the fraud he knew her to be, maybe, just maybe everything would be as normal as it ever was at Hogwarts (which, really, shouldn't be called "normal"), or perhaps this was just an extreme case of pure wishful thinking and Voldemort would attack any second now. Evidently, Harry wasn't over this idea, and truth be told, he was constantly keeping a watchful eye wherever they went, just to be sure.
The fact that everything was returning to the "normal," kept Harry from turning completely paranoid. The Weasley twins had begun their customary pranks and so far had half the Gryffindor population turned, at some point, into mice; Neville Longbottom, like always, was getting in trouble with professor Snape, and was responsible for thirty points off Gryffindor because of a small accident at Potions, which students affectionately referred to as the opera-singer effect. Ginny had returned to her usual state of utmost admiration; when it was possible, she'd grab a seat at one end of the common room and simply gawk at Harry for hours at and end. And, the most common and perhaps most comforting situation to return was the constant bickering between Ron and Hermione. They had returned to their old habit of squabbling over every last detail. Harry felt guilty, but he couldn't deny that he felt relieved they were back to their old ways, fully loaded with the sarcastic blows, clever comebacks and well-timed puns. Of course, he'd also realized that their fights were always about the same thing: Hermione's lack of time.
"Oh come on, 'Mione!" Ron begged. The three of them occupied a table, each pouring over their homework. Better said, Hermione was doing her homework, Harry was keeping up on his library research, and Ron was simply arguing with Hermione, his Divinations assignment long forgotten.
"I already told you, that not tonight. I still have two essays to complete and a special project for Arithmancy," Hermione explained, her eyes still on the parchment she was busily scribbling away on.
"But what's the point? You have loads of time to do them! They aren't due for another month!" Ron exclaimed, standing up and hovering near Hermione's back.
"I have to start doing them right now, you know I don't like to leave my homework for last minute," said Hermione replied indignantly, dipping her quill in ink and proceeding with her writing.
"Yeah, but we haven't been on a decent date for days!" exclaimed Ron, in a sharper voice than he'd intended.
Harry looked at Hermione from the top of his book and saw her get a little flustered. "What are you talking about? We had a... date two days ago." Hermione replied quietly, her eyes boring into Ron's.
"Hermione," Ron said slowly, trying to calm himself before continuing. "Having me recite the hundred uses for bouncing bulbs at the lakeside isn't what normal people could call a date," Ron explained, his voice strained and wary.
"And why not? It is highly productive, and that way we can study for the O.W.L's at the same time," Hermione clarified.
"For heaven's sake, Hermione, it's supposed to be a date, not a bloody study session!" Ron blurted out, his exasperation finally seeping out.
At this statement, the entire common room fell silent. All eyes were trained on the pair, and even Harry could not pretend to read anymore. Hermione dropped her quill and slammed her hand on the parchment she had been working on, spreading the still fresh ink on her hands. She stood up to face Ron, her eyes stormy. "Ron...for the last time: I don't have time right now. My schoolwork comes first and you know that. I am not telling you again," Hermione replied coolly, in a soft, dangerous tone she used sparingly; Harry could hear the strain of her trying to control her rage. "So calm yourself, sit down and finish your homework," Hermione concluded, sitting back down and inhaling deeply.
The other students, seeing that the fight had ended, returned to their activities; Ron and Hermione forgotten. Except by Harry, of course, who was still watching the interaction between his friends. Ron had finally relented and sat next to Hermione, rummaging through his scattered papers, trying to regain some order. Hermione was attempting to calm herself; she put her head in her hands. She kept her face covered for a minute or so.
Harry was watching Hermione intently, waiting patiently to look into her eyes, and find out how she was truly feeling. At last her hands fell from her face and Harry let out a laugh.
Hermione's head was about to explode; this month had been extremely stressful. Her attention was not entirely in her homework, she guiltily admitted. She had been doing extra research by herself. She was behind on her assignments, which is why her attention was focused entirely on them right now.
Hermione was very embarrassed for having a conversation of that type with Ron and for Harry to be watching. She had felt his gaze upon her, which was the reason she'd kept her face covered for a lot longer than necessary. She'd hoped that Harry wouldn't ask any questions; she didn't think she was ready to give any reasoning to her behaviour. When she let her hands fall from her face, she'd been expecting to be attacked by Harry's intense, searching eyes; that's why she'd felt incredibly relieved and grateful when she'd heard his sweet laugh instead.
"And what are you laughing at, Harry Potter?" Hermione said, mock-angrily, inwardly thankful at Harry's reaction.
Harry laughed some more and leaned across the table. "You have some...some ink on your face."
Hermione's right hand went immediately to her cheek, feeling completely self-conscious. "Where?" she asked, rubbing every spot on her face.
Harry was having a hard time trying to answer. The ink was smeared on her cheekbone, and Hermione looked kind of...kind of...cute? No, not cute. Hermione couldn't look cute to Harry! "It's by your-" started Harry, pointing on his own face where the smudge was located on Hermione's.
But Hermione was getting desperate and was nowhere near cleaning up the smear of ink. Where was that damned spot? "Here...let me," she heard Harry say, and a second later she felt the sensation of his touch.
Harry had spoken, and before he knew or thought through what he was doing, he'd already extended his arm and crossed the length of the table until his fingers came into contact with her cheek. He was immediately shocked by the incredible softness of her skin as he began to slowly, leisurely move his thumb across the smooth span of her cheek, caressing her delicate skin, while trying to wipe the ink stain.
When she felt his strong thumb moving across her cheek, a strange, indescribable sensation shot through her body. She lifted her head slightly to make direct eye contact with Harry, and was shocked to see his sea green eyes boring into her own. Their eyes locked in an intense moment, where deep chocolate brown met fiery emerald green.
Looking into the bottomless cinnamon depths of Hermione's eyes increased the strange, dull ache in his heart that Harry experienced when he ran his thumb gently across her velvety skin. He had looked into her eyes millions of times before, but never did they hold this new light to them. He watched the feminine features of her face, enhanced by the flickering light of the fireplace. Involuntarily, he extended the rest of his fingers so as to cup her entire left cheek with his hand.
Hermione thanked the gods that she was sitting; otherwise she would have already collapsed. She couldn't feel her legs anymore. Her heart was racing, and she felt she would burst any moment now. The moment Harry's strong hand had cupped her cheek, she felt tiny white-hot sensations skitter along her spine, and she shivered. She was positive that Harry could hear the beat of her heart, just as he could feel just how hot her cheeks were.
"I think you got the ink spot, Harry," Ron put in dryly.
Both Harry and Hermione snapped out of their reverie, and whipped their heads towards Ron. OH. Harry had actually forgotten Ron was there, and he got the impression that Hermione had, too. Harry retrieved his arm hastily, hitting himself on the elbow in the process. "Right," answered Harry, totally confused and unable to handle his emotions.
"Yes...well...thank you...Harry," Hermione said lamely, silently wondering how long they'd actually remained in that position, "Well...its late," she said, quickly gathering all her stuff and cramming into her already bulging bag. She was about to leave when she turned to Ron and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, "I'll see you tomorrow," she whispered hastily, just before running up the stairs to the bedrooms.
Harry stared after her fleeting figure; he couldn't believe the rush he felt just to touch Hermione like that. And the way she had looked...how her soft hair had fallen all around her shoulders, her parted lips, that sweetly rosy colour, which her knew was natural, the deepest brown eyes he had ever laid eyes on, and how they twinkled. Harry felt Ron's piercing gaze and decided not to turn towards him. What if Ron asked him a question he couldn't answer? He was barely capable of answering his own questions. He stood up, and picked up the book he had been reading, "I'll go too. See you," he said shortly, and walked away rather hurriedly. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Had he just been thinking how...how Hermione looked? He shouldn't be doing such a thing...after all, Hermione was his best friend and not only that, but she was his best friend that was currently dating his other best friend. The idea of how Hermione had looked simply did not belong in his mind.
TO BE CONTINUED...