TITLE: "What a Girl Wants" (1/1)
AUTHOR: starcrossed
E-MAIL: sassykajun@hotmail.com
FEEDBACK: Never refused and always replied to.
PAIRING: Harry/Hermione
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Harry/Hermione romance fic that takes place during seventh year.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing with the possible exception of my original story idea. Harry Potter and all of his friends belong to the lovely J.K. Rowling and I've merely borrowed them for my own little story.
DISTRIBUTION: Ask and it shall most likely be given.
Hermione stood gazing longingly at the display of Valentine candy in the window of Honeydukes. It wasn't the candy that she was longing for, rather it was the holiday of Valentine's itself. What good did a romantic holiday do a girl with a boyfriend when said boyfriend needed some serious lessons in the romance department?
She really shouldn't complain. Harry *was* awfully sweet in many other ways. It was just sometimes; well sometimes she wished that he'd 'court' her more. Lately, his idea of something romantic was to drag her into an empty closet or classroom for a good snog. Not that she minded their snogging sessions, quite the contrary, but sometimes, a girl needed more.
Hermione sighed. She knew that Harry needed more from her in than just snogging. He needed for their snogging to turn into actual shagging. Not that he'd said as much, at least not in so many words, but she could tell. She supposed that she couldn't really blame him. They were seventeen, now, and had been dating each other for two years. A lot of the other students she knew had been shagging for quite some time now. These days it seemed like she and Harry were the only couple at school that hadn't taken that final step.
Mandy, her Ravenclaw friend, was constantly bragging about her late night interludes with Seamus Finnegan. And Hermione didn't even want to think about the kinds of things that Ginny Weasley did with Draco Malfoy, even though the rumors regarding the two of them were all over the school.
Truth be known, she wasn't really sure *why* she hadn't made love with Harry, yet. Wait, scratch that, she knew perfectly well why not. It was because she had been waiting for the perfect time, the one perfect moment, for their first time to occur. She didn't want to be like so many other girls she knew, losing her virginity in a storage closet with her robes pushed up under her arm pits. She wanted it to mean something. She wanted it to be special, just as her love for Harry was special.
She inhaled deeply and then let her breath out in an exaggerated sigh. Just as she was about to step away from the window of the candy store, she felt a very familiar pair of masculine arms slip around her waist, as warm lips nuzzled her neck.
Smiling, she leaned back against Harry, placing her hands on top of his where they rested at her waist.
"What were you thinking of?" He asked, his breath tickling her ear.
"Oh, nothing in particular," she lied. "I was just admiring the display of Valentine candy in the window."
"See anything you want?" Harry asked, nibbling her earlobe.
"Not really," she replied. "Besides, too much candy makes a girl fat."
He gently squeezed her mid-section. "I happen to think you're perfect just as you are."
Hermione smiled again. Harry could be awfully sweet when he wanted to be.
"So, are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" Harry asked, turning her in his arms so that she was now facing him.
She looked up into a pair of dazzling green eyes framed by oh so long dark lashes. Eyes that she knew so well after all these years, and that knew her equally well in return.
"Why would you think that something is bothering me?" She asked evasively, looking over his shoulder.
Harry placed a long, calloused finger under her chin, and raised her face up to his. "Hermione, I *know* you, just as you know me. We probably know each other better than anyone else knows either one of us; so don't think that you can hide anything from me. What gives?"
Her heart ached in that moment. The young man standing before her was right. He *did* know her better than anyone. That is what came of four and a half years of friendship and two years of being significant others.
An emotional battle was waging between her heart and her head. It just wasn't like her *not* to speak her mind about something, but on the other hand, she knew that what she had to tell Harry would more than likely upset him. She hated arguing with him more than anything, but she also intensely disliked being less than honest. In the end, her head won out over her heart.
"It's nothing… it's just… well Valentine's Day is soon… and we did have our first date on that day two years ago." She took a deep breath and continued. "I guess that I was just hoping for a romantic Valentine's Day this year…"
Harry fixed his green eyes on her and Hermione instantly wished that she hadn't said anything. She could tell from the look in his eyes that she had just struck a nerve with him.
He backed away from her and threw his hands up in the air. "So," he said, "I guess what you're saying is that I'm not romantic?"
"Harry, please," she softly pleaded as she cast furtive looks up and down the street. This was an official Hogsmeade Saturday; so many of their fellow classmates were thronging the streets of the magical village. The last thing she wanted to do was to cause a scene.
The word 'stupid' was echoing very loudly in her head. When would she learn not to be so forthright with her thoughts? She could just tell by the way that Harry's eyes were blazing that this wasn't going to go well.
She tried to reach for his hand, only to have him take a step further back from her. "Harry, that's not what I meant, not really. I love you… you know that. Let's just go back to school and find some place private to discuss this, okay?" She truly did not want to have this argument with him and once again mentally chastised herself for having ever brought it up.
Hermione's brown eyes were brimming over with unshed tears, and Harry almost felt himself cave in. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was to see a girl cry, especially *his* girl. But, dammit, she had just insulted him by insinuating that he wasn't romantic.
Harry had found his patience with his girlfriend sorely tested as of late. He would never dream of pushing her to do something that she wasn't ready for, but for Merlin's sake, there were only so many cold showers that one could take after a hot and heavy snogging session.
He held up a hand as a means of warding her off. "Just don't, Hermione, okay? Let's just go our separate ways and spend the rest of the day apart. I think we each need to take a bit of a breather before one of us says something that we can't take back."
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away from her, his robes swirling around him. He strode off in the general direction of the Three Broomsticks.
For her part, Hermione remained rooted to her spot in front of Honeydukes' window, trying really hard not to cry. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her robe and inhaled deeply in an attempt to gain some composure. When her tears had been reduced to a large, uncomfortable lump in her throat, she took off in the opposite direction of where Harry had gone.
What was supposed to have been a day of fun and frolicking in the town of Hogsmeade had been ruined as far as she was concerned. All she really wanted now was to return to her room at Hogwarts. It was still early enough in the day that she would probably have the dorm room to herself, at least until early evening, which was usually when the students started returning.
<><><><>
Ginny Weasley entered the dorm room with her face flushed and her robes in disarray. She had come back from the outing to Hogsmeade early at the persuasion of her boyfriend, Draco Malfoy. Draco never missed out on an opportunity to have a good snog. And, truth be known, he hadn't had to persuade Ginny *all* that much.
Upon entering the room, she was surprised to hear the sound of someone sobbing softly. Her eyes flitting around the room, she quickly determined that there was a crumpled figure on Hermione's bed. *Oh, Hecate! She must have had another argument with Harry!* As a close friend of both Hermione and Harry, she knew that the couple had had troubles of late.
She smiled for a moment when she thought of her close friendship with Harry. It was rather ironic when one stopped to consider that Ginny had had the most awful crush on him during her first year at Hogwarts. That had all changed, though, at the end of her first year when Harry had saved her life from Tom Riddle and the basilisk. From that time on, they'd become friends, and she knew that Harry probably confided things in her that he didn't even tell Ron about.
Making her way quietly over to Hermione's bed, Ginny perched on the edge of the mattress and reached out a hand to stroke the other girl's hair.
"Want to talk about it?" She softly asked.
Hermione rolled over to look at Ginny. Her eyes were red and puffy from what Ginny surmised was hours of crying and she had a look of abject misery on her tear-streaked face. She sat up, pulling her legs beneath her, and placed her hands in her lap.
"Harry and I…" she began before she was forced to stop due to another sob that was threatening to rise up in her throat.
Ginny reached over and took one of Hermione's hands in her own, squeezing it gently in reassurance. "You and Harry had a fight, am I right?"
Hermione nodded and sniffed as she fought back the urge to start crying again.
"Oh, dear," the red head replied. "May I ask what it was about this time?"
"I accused him of not being very romantic," she confessed with a sniffle. "I didn't *want* to, but he found me looking in the window of Honeydukes and he could sense that something was wrong with me.
He asked me what it was, and you know me, if I'm asked, I usually tell. And, I don't think that I was all together wrong in what I said to him - he could stand to improve some in the romance department."
She took a breath before continuing. "But, on the other hand, I know that there are things that Harry would like from me that I'm not giving him. Maybe we've reached an impasse in our relationship…"
Ginny couldn't help but smile. She had always been amazed at the other girl's ability to coherently ramble.
"You know," she said, "you shouldn't feel like you have to do anything with Harry that you aren't ready for. He isn't trying to force you, is he?"
Hermione shook her head rather vehemently. "Oh, no! Harry would never do that! He hasn't even said anything about it, really, but I can just tell, you know? And, I want to do it, too, at least sometimes I do, but I also want it to be right and beautiful and perfect. I probably sound really stupid, don't I?"
The red head smiled again and patted the other girl's hand. "You could *never* sound stupid, my dear friend, not in a million years. It simply isn't in your nature."
"Have you and Draco? I mean, it's probably none of my business, but have you?"
"Actually, we haven't," Ginny replied. "We've done lots of other stuff and we've come close a few times, but Draco respects me and he also respects my need to wait. So, see, you aren't the only girl in school who hasn't done it, nor are you the only one who wants their first time to be special."
"Thanks for telling me that, Ginny," Hermione said softly. "I still have the problem of Harry being mad at me, though. I think that he thinks that I think that he isn't romantic enough."
"Well, do you? Think that, I mean?"
Hermione shook her head rather vehemently. "Yes, yes I do! And what's wrong with that?"
"Not a thing," Ginny said. "You just leave Mr. Potter to me, okay? I guarantee you that you will have the best Valentine's Day ever."
"Oh, Ginny, thank you! You are simply too good of a friend sometimes." She leaned over and hugged the other girl.
"Now, how's about we get you washed up, and then head down to the Great Hall for dinner? I heard that they are serving Yorkshire pudding tonight and I know it's your favorite." Ginny stood up and held out a hand to Hermione. "Come on, it will be a chance for you to make up with Harry. If there's one thing I've learned from having six brothers, it's that boys rarely miss a meal, even when they're mad."
Hermione nodded as she got to her feet. "I guess I should try to find Harry and apologize to him."
"That's my girl," Ginny replied.
<><><><>
"Oh, come on Harry! They are serving Yorkshire pudding tonight and you know it's one of your favorites. You don't want to miss out on it, do you?" Ron asked as they entered the main hall of Hogwarts together, fresh from their return from Hogsmeade.
"I just don't think I want to run into Hermione right now," Harry replied glumly.
"Well, you have to see her sooner or later," Ron said. "You can't exactly avoid a person when you have classes with them *and* you're in the same house. Besides, the two of you just had a tiff - it's not as if you broke up or anything."
Harry smiled a little. This particular best friend of his had a knack for breaking complex situations down into more easily digestible parts. It was one of the things that he loved about him.
An all too familiar voice to the left of them suddenly spoke. "What's the matter, Potter? Girl trouble again?" Draco Malfoy had his usual leer on his face as he rubbed the fingernails of one hand against his robe, as if to polish them, before bringing the hand to his face to examine the nails. "I guess we weren't all born gifted with the ladies."
"Oh, you're a fine one to talk, Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed. "The whole school knows that you're wrapped around my little sister's finger, so don't even stand there and act like you're some big Casanova."
The leer on Draco's face disappeared, only to be replaced with a self-satisfied smirk. "Well, at least *I* don't have any problems keeping *my* girl happy," he said. "Maybe you should take some lessons from me, Potter."
"I would, if I thought that you actually could teach me anything," Harry retorted, although not all together rudely. Draco had become much more tolerable to be around since he'd began dating Ginny Weasley. One might even go so far as to say that the blonde was *almost* likeable now.
"Wait, isn't that my sister coming our way, now?" Ron asked before quickly turning with Harry to head in the direction of the Great Hall.
Draco turned to look behind him, only to realize that the hall was empty and that he'd been tricked. Where he once would have sneered or said something really ugly, instead he just followed behind the other two boys. It was amazing what love could do to a person really.
<><><><>
Hermione entered the Great Hall with more than a little apprehension. A quick glance over at the Gryffindor table told her that Harry was already there, seated next to Ron. The two of them appeared to be laughing over something that Fred and George were saying, so she took that as an encouraging sign - if Harry was laughing at something, then he probably wasn't *too* angry anymore.
Inhaling deeply and letting her breath out slowly, she made her way over to her house's table and took an empty seat across from Harry. She managed to capture his gaze with her own and quickly mouthed the words, 'I'm sorry'. He acknowledged her apology with a nod and mouthed back, 'later'. She gave him a quick smile, and then busied herself with serving her plate.
<><><><>
After what seemed an eternity to Hermione, dinner was over, and Harry stood up from the table.
"I think I'll head back to the common room," he announced to the table in general. "Want to walk back with me, Hermione?"
She stood up, faking a yawn. "Yes, I think I will," she said. "I'm rather tired from the trip to Hogsmeade today."
The two of them made a hasty retreat from the dining room.
"I don't know who they think they are fooling," Ron smirked. "They are headed to the nearest available broom closet to make up!"
"You say that like it's a *bad* thing, Weasley," replied Malfoy, who had suddenly appeared at the Gryffindor table. "Of course, that could very well be because you've never had make-up snog."
Ron's face turned almost as red as his hair and he stammered, "I've had plenty of snogging, Malfoy, thank you very much."
"Whatever you say, Weasley," Draco lazily drawled. Turning his attention to his girlfriend, he asked, "Ginny, dear, would you care to take a moonlight stroll with me?"
"I'd love to," she replied, standing up to take his hand. "Goodnight, everyone," she called over her shoulder as she left the room with Malfoy.
"I *still* don't get what she sees in him!" Ron complained.
"Love is blind, Ron," replied Seamus Finnegan, "or so they say."
"Yeah, that must be it," Ron agreed as he watched his sister disappear with Malfoy. "I'd still like to think that he's cast a spell on her, though."
Seamus and Dean laughed. "You just keep telling yourself that, Ron, ol' boy, and maybe one day you'll actually believe it!"
<><><><>
After leaving the dining room together, Harry had reached for Hermione's hand and she had gladly laced her fingers through his and gently squeezed his hand. He hadn't said anything, though, and she had just followed along behind him in comfortable silence. Finally, he had come to a stop before a closed door.
"Let's try this one," Harry said, gesturing to a broom closet on his right. Hermione was behind him, holding one of his hands. With his free hand, he turned the doorknob and entered the closet. Releasing Hermione's hand, he extracted his wand from his robe and said, "Lumos."
The light coming from the tip of his wand showed that the closet was indeed empty. Spotting the light switch on the wall behind him, he reached over and turned it on. A single light bulb in a fixture in the ceiling cast a pale illumination, but it would do.
After replacing his wand somewhere inside of his robes, Harry leaned back against a wall and crossed his arms over his chest, fixing his gaze on Hermione. "C'mere," he said to her.
She crossed the room and went to him without the slightest hesitation. This was Harry, after all, *her* Harry, the Boy Who Had Lived, as well as the boy that she loved. Only, he wasn't a boy anymore, not really. Even though she could still see traces of the boy he had been at the age of eleven, before her stood a handsome, confident, and intelligent young man who was also caring, compassionate, and sensitive. Gone also was the gawky, skinny eleven-year-old boy who'd been all knees and elbows, and in his place stood a lean, muscular, and well put together young man. In that moment, she knew that she wanted to make love with him - not right then and there, of course, but sometime really soon.
When she reached Harry, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her, and proceeded to capture her mouth with his. The kiss was gentle at first, but soon grew more passionate. She twined her arms around his neck and her fingers found their way to the hair at the nape of his neck. The feel of Harry's hair never ceased being a sensory delight for her fingertips for it was so thick and unbelievably soft, and she loved running her fingers through it.
After several long moments, Harry's mouth released its hold on hers, and he leaned back against the wall once more, his breathing ever so slightly erratic. She was still wrapped in his embrace, though, and she brought one of her hands around from to back of his neck in order to trace his jaw line with her fingers. He was so very familiar to her, yet she always managed to find something new about him each time they were together.
"Harry," she said softly, as she looked up into his eyes, her fingers still tracing patterns along his jaw, "I'm sorry about earlier today - not so much for what I said, mind you, as for the way I allowed it to come out. I could have found a better way to broach the subject with you."
He smiled at her, for he loved the young woman standing before him. The apology she'd just offered him was so very 'Hermione', yet he wouldn't have her any other way. Her stubbornness, as well as her straight forwardness, was two of the things he admired in her.
"I'm sorry, too, Hermione, for not being as romantic as you'd like me to be. Guys just don't think about that stuff as much as girls do, I suppose, so we need reminders every now and again - *gentle* reminders," he softly chided.
One arm released its hold on her so that he could reach inside his robe once more. This time he extracted a heart-shaped red foil package. "I got this for you today - after our fight," he said, handing it to her. "I know it's not much, but I hope you like it."
Hermione let out a very uncharacteristic squeal as she accepted the package from him. Opening one small corner of the heart revealed to her that it contained chocolate inside. "You didn't have to do this, Harry, but thank you."
"It's filled with strawberry cream," he said. "I know that strawberry cream filled milk chocolate is one of your favorite treats from Honeydukes."
It was Hermione's turn to smile, for he *did* know her so very well. She safely placed the chocolate in a pocket of her robe, and then winding her arms back around his neck, she brought her mouth to his, kissing him softly.
She released his lips and proceeded to kiss a trail from the corner of his mouth all the way up to one of his ears. Standing on tiptoe, she grazed his earlobe with her lips before whispering, "I've got a present for you, too, Harry. I want to make love with you."
Harry swallowed hard in an attempt to gain a modicum of composure, which wasn't an easy thing to do given the situation he currently found himself in. "Right now?" He asked, his voice coming out in an undignified squeak.
Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "Not right now, silly," she said. "Soon," she promised. "I was thinking perhaps Valentine's night?"
"Are you sure?" He asked as his eyes searched hers.
She nodded. "As sure as I've ever been about anything. I love you, Harry Potter, and I want to make love."
"Well, I promise you that I'll do my best to make it a very romantic night - a night that we'll always remember." Cupping her chin in one hand, he said, "I love you, too, Hermione Granger, and it will be an honor to make love to you."
She moved forward and rested her head on his shoulder, content at the moment just to be held by him.
For his part, Harry was surprised to find himself equally satisfied at just having her in his embrace. After awhile, though, he stole a glance at his wristwatch.
"It's getting late, Hermione," he informed her. "We should probably head back to the common room before we get caught by a teacher or one of the prefects. I wouldn't want us to get detention because with my luck I'd have to perform mine on Valentine's Day."
She laughed softly, but nodded her head in agreement. They left the broom closet hand-in-hand, happy and in love.
To (possibly) Be Continued