Chapter 11: Under a Glass Moon
Outside the soundness of your mind…
Bathing your soul in silver tears.
Beneath a blackened summer sky…
Praying for time to disappear.
-Dream Theater's "Caught in a Web"
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The Firebolt slowly rose into the darkening sky. She was scared and he knew it, so he tried to be as gentle as possible. Her nails were still digging into his arms, and she had shut her eyes when they were still within 5 feet of the ground. Her long locks were tickling his face as the wind beat severely on their bodies.
The sun was almost buried behind the mountains, and only a trickle of daylight remained. Harry didn't dare look anywhere but at the back of Hermione's head, but he was sure that the moon had already appeared overhead, and that the stars were beginning to twinkle in the dark blue sky.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry whispered softly.
"Yeah," she whimpered unconvincingly.
"Do you want to do this or do you want to go down? I don't want to pressure you," Harry said very gently, wishing to run his hands through her mane of messy brown hair and settling for tightening the grip on the broom handle.
"And face the Inquisition down there? Never," Hermione replied, some of her legendary courage creeping into her voice.
"Alright. I'm going to tell Neville to release the snitch. Are you ready?" Harry asked, taking a deep breath. It wasn't everyday that he held a trembling Hermione between his arms, and it was a blessing to know that he was there to comfort her. Hermione nodded in reply.
"Hermione…" Harry started, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"What?" Hermione asked him breathlessly.
"You might want to open your eyes," Harry finished, his smile widening. He heard a little "Oh" and a nervous laugh coming from her. He then heard her wince, and he instinctively knew she had opened her lovely eyes.
"LET IT GO!"
Harry and Hermione looked down and watched as Neville released the snitch. The little golden ball with wings hovered over the four friends on the ground for just a second, but then it zoomed with such an amazing burst of speed that both Harry and Hermione lost track of it.
"Where did it go? WHERE?" Hermione asked nervously as soon as the snitch disappeared from her sight, tensing her already stiffed shoulders.
"Relax, Mione," Harry whispered soothingly. He had trouble keeping a clear view of the darkening field when her hair kept flying on his face, so he took a deep breath and placed his head next to hers, his chin lightly touching her shoulder.
He tried to ignore how his stomach flipped with the chaste contact. Thankfully, he didn't notice her reaction, or his heart would have jumped right out of his mouth.
Harry cleared his throat and said, "You got to be patient, Hermione. That's the key. Be patient, but be alert. Keep your eyes and your ears opened. You may not see it, but it is here, just waiting for you to get it."
"But how can I get it? There's not enough light! I can't see a thing!" Hermione whispered as she tried to focus her eyes in scanning the field.
"Quidditch is not only about ability, but about instinct. You have to trust your instincts on this one," Harry said encouragingly, wishing he could let go of the broom handle to give her a quick hug.
"That's not a good thing, Harry. My instincts tell me to get my feet on the ground where they belong," Hermione replied, her edgy voice tinted with amusement.
"That's your head speaking, Hermione. For once, do the thinking with your heart," Harry whispered.
Hermione's stiff shoulders relaxed slightly, and her heart became steady enough for her to dare to look over her shoulder at him. For a moment, he was taken back by how close her lips were to his.
`Don't think of her lips! Don't think of her lips!'
"Since when did you become so wise?" she asked, the corner of her lips rising in a smile, arching her perfectly defined eyebrow at him.
Harry grinned nervously while replying, "Since Luna gave me that subscription to The Quibbler for my birthday."
This time she laughed out loud, and turned her head back to its original position. Harry closed his eyes and took a steadying breath of air.
`Lost your window to kiss her.'
`Shut up!'
Harry opened his eyes when he heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath. "What is it?" he asked worriedly.
"I… I think I see it," Hermione whispered, her eyes focused on a point somewhere in front of them.
"Where?" Harry asked, his eyes immediately scanning the area Hermione was looking at. But the night had already settled in, and his visibility was down to nil.
"By the left side of the middle goal post at the other end of the field," Hermione replied hurriedly. Harry looked at the area in question and squinted his eyes.
He gasped a few seconds later. There it was, the snitch, that little golden ball that meant everything in his beloved game, just hovering exactly where Hermione had said it would be.
`How did she…?'
A new wave of pride surged inside of him for his best friend.
"Alright, you've seen it… now you need to go after it. Ready to take the broom?" Harry asked, not bothering to hide the emotions he was feeling at the moment.
"Have I ever told you how much I hate flying?" Hermione said, fighting the intense urge to shut her eyes close.
"About three dozen times. But I think you are just begging for a chance to think otherwise," Harry whispered. Hermione didn't say anything, but she shifted slightly and scooted a bit closer to him. He realized he was so close he could smell the lingering scent of her lavender shampoo, her vanilla soap, and her sweat.
It drove him mad.
"Take the broom, Mione," he whispered, the commanding tone of his voice hiding the tremors within. He bit his lower lip when she tightened her grip on his arms, feeling her nails digging in, wondering if she had drawn any blood yet.
"Harry, I'm not a good at flying. It might not be a good idea to…" Hermione started saying, but was quickly cut off by Harry.
"You are better at this than you think," Harry whispered throatily, "Come on, Hermione… it is just in front of you… you can almost touch it… don't let it get away."
"I don't want to fall," Hermione said, succumbing to the fear and shutting her eyes. Harry suppressed a sigh; he had brought her this far… he wasn't about to let her give up now.
Harry's lips were less than an inch from Hermione's ear when he whispered, "Hermione, do you trust me?"
After a few moments of heavy silence between them, Hermione nodded.
"Then trust me on this… I won't let you fall," Harry whispered, leaning back a bit after the desire to nuzzle against her neck became almost unbearable. She shuddered visibly, but slowly opened her eyes.
Hermione looked over her shoulder, and their eyes locked. Could she read his expression in the darkness? Could she know how much he felt for her? The pride? The awe? The love? Could she know that he wanted her to do this for HERSELF and no one else?
"Take the broom," Harry commanded hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper. She looked back to the snitch that was still hovering on the other side of the field and released a trembling breath.
Hermione's hesitation started melting, and he felt as her fingers traveled down his arms, his wrists, the back of his hands… his knuckles… to the tip of his fingers. And she finally released him, gripping the Firebolt's handle tightly in her hands, literary hanging on for dear life.
Harry smiled and nodded imperceptibly. "Alright, the moment I release the handle, you are going to be in control of the broom. Just remember it is a very powerful broom, so be gentle when you command it."
Hermione nodded, her jaw squared in determination. Slowly, Harry let go of the broom handle, resting his hands lightly on the sides of Hermione's waist, hesitating to get a firmer grip. As soon as he let go, the broom lost power and dropped a little bit over a foot before pulling back. Hermione yelped softly, but stood her ground, and a second later the Firebolt found itself under her control.
For a few seconds, nothing happened. Hermione continued staring at the snitch on the other side of the field while Harry stared at the back of her head, wishing that the simple contact of his hands on her body was enough to project into her the confidence and assurance she needed to conquer her fears.
Boy, was Harry in for a surprise.
Unexpectedly, Hermione leaned into the broom, and the Firebolt jerked forward and zoomed to the other side at neck-breaking speed. His shyness at her nearness was soon forgotten as the instinct for survival kicked in, and that instinct told him that if he didn't grab onto her for dear life, his friends would spend the night scraping the remains of his body from the ground.
Hugging her tightly, Harry could hear the cheers of his friends on the ground even amidst the roaring wind as the little golden speck on the other side came closer and closer…
Sensing that it had been found, the snitch moved, zooming to its right. Harry got another shocker when Hermione didn't hesitate in doing the same, making a wide turn to her right and following the golden ball. Hermione's command over the broom was far from smooth, but the important thing was that there was not a trace of self-doubt or vacillation in her actions.
And she certainly didn't hesitate when she followed the snitch behind the Gryffindor stands. Harry swallowed a scream as they flew under the stands, their heads barely dodging one of the wooden boards.
But Hermione kept following the snitch with the same determination and passion that she used when looking for a particular bit of information while searching through the maze of knowledge that was the library.
"That's it, Hermione! THAT'S IT!" Harry cheered as Ron and the others scream on the field.
The snitch now flew over the stands and dived toward the ground, zooming toward the goal posts just before it crashed into the ground. To Harry's utter delight (and a bit of terror too), Hermione did exactly the same!
Harry's body crashed into hers as she pulled them up just before hitting the ground and followed the snitch. They were riding so low that he had to pulled his knees up to avoid hitting the grass with his feet.
But even the threat of injury wasn't enough to stop the grin across Harry's cheeks when he realized Hermione was actually gaining speed, closing the distance between the little golden ball and themselves.
It was now less than a foot away. And that's when Hermione did what Harry thought was impossible.
Her body tightened around the handle, and her right hand was not on the broom anymore but in the air, reaching for the snitch. The golden ball tried to make a last minute effort to save itself by quickly flying to the side.
But it was too late.
Hermione Granger had just wrapped her delicate hand around the snitch.
Before Harry could make coherent words come out of his mouth, his feet were already on the ground after a rough landing, while Ron, Ginny, Luna and Neville ran toward them. Hermione turned on her heels and looked at him with the same expression of shock and delight he was giving her, the little speck of gold still clutched tightly in her hand.
Seeing as words failed him, Harry could only wrapped his arms around her waist and hug her tightly, lifting her up the ground and twirling her around. Their sound of their laughter echoed in their ears as their friends finally joined them.
Harry reluctantly let go of Hermione, who turned around and faced the still gaping Ron with a very cocky expression on her face. "I believe this is yours," Hermione said with a wink, handing the snitch back to Ron.
Ron blinked two more times before he was finally able to say, "BLIMEY, HERMIONE! THAT WAS INCREDIBLE!" He didn't hesitate in hugging her tightly and lifting her up the ground just as Harry had done. Harry beamed at them, knowing exactly how proud of Hermione Ron felt at that moment.
As soon as Ron let go of Hermione, it came Ginny's turn to embrace her as the smaller redhead said, "I'm so proud of you!"
"You really acted like a pro out there," Neville beamed, patting Hermione on the back sheepishly. Luna looked as if she was about to belt out "Hermione is our queen", but settled for a small hug while saying, "If I didn't know better, I would have swore you play before."
Ron sighed dramatically, shook his head and looked at Harry, "You do realize that now that Hermione knows she's even good at Quidditch, there's no way to stop that big head of hers from exploding."
Hermione stuck her tongue at Ron and slapped his arm. Even with the cold of the night, Harry could feel the embarrassed heat coming from her cheeks. "If I was any good, it was all thanks to my coach," she said with a smile, looking at Harry over her shoulder.
It was now Harry's turn to blush.
Ron stretched and dropped his right arm, landing on Luna's shoulders. "Well, I better go take a bath and hit the books. Got that potions assignment to finish," he said, holding Luna close while winking at the currently dull-witted Harry.
"Thanks for reminding me," Neville mumbled, the grin on his face disappearing.
"Cheer up, you two. After all, the ball is tomorrow night," Ginny said, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree in December. Harry stole a glance at Hermione, and was surprised to see that the smile grazing her features was slightly forced.
Luna turned to Ron and said, "Speaking about the ball, Ronald, I've been thinking about our costumes and…" Everybody leaned toward them, hoping to get a hint about the mysterious costumes. But before Luna could say another word, Ron quickly clasped his hand over her mouth.
"Pumpkin, I will gladly be laughed at tomorrow… but I don't want to have people laughing at me tonight," Ron said with a mischievous smile. She tried to glare at him, but quickly yelped happily when Ron scooped her off her feet.
"See you guys later," Ron said after turning around. Luna waved at them dreamily as Ron started walking toward the castle, his girlfriend safely cradled in his arms.
"If my brother intends to carry her all the way to the castle, I predict a hernia in his near future," Ginny said in good nature, hooking her arm around Neville's waist, and beaming at Harry and Hermione.
"Well, I better get started on that assignment. See you guys later," Neville said, throwing his broom and Ginny's Cleansweep over his shoulder and walking back to the castle with his free hand still draped around the redhead's shoulders.
"I'm so happy for them," Hermione whispered as they watched them retreat under the moonlight.
"I am too. I think they are perfect for each other," Harry said absently, stealing a glance at the young woman standing by him.
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"Do you think that those two nitwits will one day realize this was their first date?" Ron whispered to his girlfriend. Luna looked over his shoulder at the couple on the field, noticing that they were now alone with each other.
"Actually, Ronald, something tells me this date is not over yet."
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Harry became consciously aware that he was now alone with Hermione. And he had absolutely no doubt that the four friends had intended for this to happen all along.
Harry briefly wondered what Ginny, Ron, Neville and Luna wanted him to do as he turned his head and looked at Hermione's smiling profile.
`What can I do? What can I say? What did they expect to happen? Did they expect me to kiss her and make her forget everything about that stupid prat she's dating? Do they want me to ask her to go to the ball with me and not with Roger? Did they expected Hermione to suddenly confess her undying love for me, grab me by the arm and pull me to her room to start making some babies?'
But just remembering how it had felt to be so close to her was enough to send shivers up and down his spine. He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath before trusting in his ability to speak.
"Y-y-you coming?" Harry stuttered nervously, opening his eyes but not daring to look at her. Hermione looked up into the sky and said nothing for a few seconds. Harry started thinking she might not have heard him until Hermione asked a very peculiar question.
"Harry, can you loan me your Firebolt one more time tonight?" Hermione asked softly. He turned his head sharply around to look at her. There was a playful smile tugging at her lips, her hands resting on her hips as she enjoyed the look of utter shock on his face.
"There's something I want to try…" she trailed. Harry blinked twice, but couldn't bring himself to do anything else but stare at her.
After she laughed out loud, Harry finally blurted, "What are you up to?"
"That's for me to know and for you to find out," Hermione said when her laughter subsided. Her laughter was a beautiful sound, like that of wind chimes blown by a sweet tropical breeze.
"So… what do you say?" she asked, reveling in the knowledge that there were still things about her that could surprise the person that knew her the most.
"Take it! It's yours!" Harry ranted, handing her the broom he was holding on his hand.
`Great, Potter. Offer her your second most prized possession! That's not suspicious AT ALL, Mr. Smooth.'
"Thanks. But it'll do for tonight," Hermione said with a small laugh, taking the broom from him. She faced the field and took a few steps, finally swinging her leg over the broom. She looked over her shoulder at Harry, her eyebrow arching roguishly.
"Are you coming or not?" she asked the now smiling Harry. He mentally weighted the pros and cons of that particular offer.
`Trying to find out just what exactly is your best friend, who half an hour ago was terrified of heights, up to? PRO!'
`The fact that she has never invited Roger to get on a broom with her? PRO!'
`The fact that, even if you get on the broom with her, Roger will still be the handsome, intelligent, rich and well-behaved son of a bitch that will take Hermione to the ball? CON!'
`The fact that you are totally and completely alone with her? PRO!'
`The fact that you can be a total PRAT when are you totally and completely alone with her? CON!'
`The fact that you can take a cold shower afterwards? PRO!'
`The fact that you have the uncanny ability to blurt out the wrong thing at the worst of times? CON!'
`Getting a second chance to put your arms around her? PRO! No… CON! NO PRO! NO...'
`AH, TO HELL WITH IT.'
"You can bet on it," Harry said, grinning nervously as he walked toward her. Swinging a leg over the broom and sitting behind her, he tentatively put his arms around her waist, still careful to leave a few inches between them for fear of arousing more than the hairs in the back of his neck.
"Are you sure you want to do whatever it is you want to do? After all, you just tried Quidditch. You don't want to overexcite yourself! Maybe we should go back to the common room and you can go back to reading Hogwarts: A History," Harry teased her.
He couldn't help but think not so appropriate things about his best friend when he heard her answer.
"Grab on tight and I'll show you how exciting I can be."
Looking over her shoulder, Hermione winked at him before facing forward and jerking on the handle, sending them flying directly overhead.
After a few seconds, Harry realized she had no intention to stop their ascent. They were now higher than he had taken her for their Quidditch run… and they kept on rising.
As Harry watched over her shoulder as the Hogwarts castle grew smaller and smaller in the distance, he started notice the mist forming around them. He looked overhead and realized that they were flying into the clouds… and beyond.
They finally reached a clearing, the blanket of clouds under them and the clear dark sky above. Just then, Hermione stopped their ascent. It was a very rough maneuver that caused Harry to close the distance he had careful left between their bodies and crash into her. Harry groaned, closing his eyes and taking a big breath.
"Sorry. I still don't get a handle on braking," Hermione said sheepishly. Harry opened his eyes and tried to tell her not to worry, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a squeak.
`Hagrid in a bikini shaking his tush! HAGRID IN A BIKINI SHAKING HIS TUSH!'
When he had gathered enough control over his body and his heart was not racing like a wild stallion in heat, he chanced a glance at his surroundings.
It was so beautiful Harry was left speechless.
The sky above the clouds was a deep shade of midnight blue, and there were hundreds of stars twinkling, noticeable even by the naked eye. An almost full moon was directly suspended in front of them, great in size but mostly in its supreme beauty. He was so caught up in the moment that he was only able to verbalize one word.
"Whoa"
"Whoa indeed," Hermione said with a small laugh. Harry immediately felt a little bit stupid at his lack of proper vocabulary.
Unexpectedly, Hermione leaned back and settled her head on his shoulder, putting almost all of her weight against him. Harry's heart leapt on his chest, and his breath became ragged. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like to bury his face on the crook of her neck and let her scent envelop him as he planted gentle kisses on her bare skin.
"See those three stars?" she asked Harry, sounding like a teacher excited about the lesson she was about to teach.
Harry forced himself to open his eyes and look at the direction she was pointing. He had to squint his eyes for a few seconds, but finally he saw it… next to the lower right part of the moon there were three stars, seemingly equal in shape and size, forming an almost perfectly vertical line. She lowered her hand, but didn't move away from Harry.
"My parents and I went on vacation to Spain the summer before I began at Hogwarts. There, the gypsies have a legend around this sight…the moon and those three stars. They called it El Hijo de la Luna" Hermione started, her gaze fixed on the view in front.
"What?" Harry asked absently, turning his head around in order to gaze at her profile.
"It means Son of the Moon. The stars… they represent tears," Hermione whispered, her voice almost reverent.
"How come?" asked the young man, noticing the sudden shift in mood.
Hermione started, "Well, according to the gypsies it all started when a gypsy woman prayed to the Moon for a husband. She prayed and she prayed, until the Moon had no choice but to respond. The gypsy then begged the Moon for a cale, or gypsy husband, who would love her with mad and endless passion. The Moon agreed to give this woman a husband, but it came at a prize."
"The Moon asked the woman for her firstborn in return."
"Why would the moon ask that?" Harry asked, genuinely interested in the strange tale.
Hermione continued, "Because the Moon wanted to be a mother above all else, and she had no one to be her lover, since the Sun, whom she loved with all her heart, burnt her with his intensity whenever he got closer."
"And then, what happened?" Harry whispered, mesmerized by the way the light of the moon glinted inside Hermione's eyes.
"The woman readily agreed to the Moon's request. Sure enough, the moon granted the woman a husband that she desired… strong, handsome, fierce, passionate and just crazy for her. They married, and nine months later, the woman gave birth to a child. But it was not a gypsy child, for his skin was as white as snow, and the wavy hair on top of his head was the color of silver… just like his eyes," Hermione whispered.
Harry felt her shuddering lightly, and impulsively hugged her tightly against his body, hoping that some of the warmth she was creating in him could pass into her.
Hermione continued with her tale, "When the husband saw the child his wife had just bore, his own intensity and passion for her led him to think his wife had been unfaithful. So… the man took a knife… confronted his wife…and stabbed her."
Harry gulped, "And the baby?"
"Well, the husband took the baby in his arms with the intention of killing him… but he found he could not bring himself to harm the child. Instead, the man ran into the fields and left the baby there for nature to do as she pleased," Hermione answered.
"And then?" Harry whispered, noticing that her eyes had glisten with unshed tears somewhere along the tale.
"The Moon took the form of a woman and came down to the ground. She wrapped the child in her arms and finally took him back where she belongs… into the night," Hermione said, her voice slightly shaking.
Harry tore his eyes away from her face and looked ahead. And, to his surprise, he could see the face of a woman on the moon, with long flowing brown curls that fell over her shoulder and sparkling caramel eyes that seemingly glinted.
All right, so the view might be slightly influenced by the woman in his arms… but still, the moon that was looking down at him that night was one of the most striking sights his emerald eyes had ever settled upon.
Present company excluded.
Hermione finished the tale with a whisper, "The legend ends saying that, whenever the child is happy, there is a full moon, because the Moon is happy. But when the child cries, before the fourth tear has been shed, the Moon becomes a crescent… so she can rock her child in her arms."
"It's a beautiful story… sad, but beautiful," Harry whispered, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"It is," Hermione laughed softly, wiping the single tear that had fallen on her cheek with the palm of her hand, "I can't believe I remembered all of it. It's been almost eight years since I last heard it."
For the first time since they had stopped their journey, Hermione moved forward, leaving the comfort of Harry's body against hers as she tightened her hold on the broom's handle. Harry sighed inwardly, immediately missing the butterflies in his stomach that the sensation of her weight pressing against his body made him feel.
Hermione was still looking at the moon when she added as an afterthought, "Funny thing is that… when I was child… I thought it was just beautiful nonsense. But now… now I know exactly how the Moon felt."
Harry gulped, frowning faintly. "You mean you want to have a child?" he blurted.
"Goodness no!" Hermione said with a slight chuckle, "not yet anyway."
"Then why?" Harry asked her softly. He watched as her shoulders tensed a little, and another shudder ran through her body.
"Because… Because I think I know what is like to love someone and not be able to get close to him… because his intensity burns you… just like the Sun burned the Moon," Hermione said, sounding awfully small, looking down at her hands as she finished the last word.
`Who… who is this person Hermione loves? Is it Roger? Has Roger done something to hurt her? Is he the one who burns her?'
Harry didn't respond for his actions if he ever found out someone had hurt his Hermione.
He opened and closed his mouth, wordlessly. Not knowing what to do or what to say to her to make it better, and fighting the desire to stay up there with her forever versus the fear of what might happen if he did, Harry finally sighed wearily and said, "Well, it's late. We better get going."
Without another word, they both glanced at the moon one more time. Finally, Hermione gently guided their descent pass the billowing clouds and the icy wind into the grounds.
After a slightly more graceful landing than the first time, Hermione got off from the broom, and Harry did the same, throwing the Firebolt over his shoulder. Hermione started walking toward the castle, and Harry didn't know what else to say or do but follow her, a comfortable silence setting between them as he fell into step next to her.
After about a minute, Hermione broke the silence, "So… have you decided which lucky girl is going to be your date for the ball?" Harry forced himself to smile.
He really didn't want to think about the Halloween ball… because thinking about the Halloween Ball made him think of Hermione in all her gorgeous glory… and thinking about Hermione in all her gorgeous glory made him think about Roger… and thinking about Roger made him think about the Ravenclaw's annoying habit of putting his arms around Hermione's shoulders… and thinking about the Ravenclaw's annoying habit of putting his arms around Hermione's shoulders made him think that maybe being the Boy-Who-Lived might actually let him get away with murder.
Ok, Roger Davies definitely didn't bring out the best in him. But Harry found, surprisingly, that the night had turned out to be so magical already, first with the game and then with that solitary moonlight ride with the woman he loved, that he didn't really want to spend another second thinking about Roger.
"I don't think I'm going," Harry said with a small smile, turning his head slightly so he could look at her profile, "I don't want anyone to experience the same pain I inflicted on Parvati on the Yule Ball."
"You are talking about your dancing skills, aren't you?" Hermione said, the lingering sadness that had settled in her eyes after she finished the story vanished as she smirked up at him.
"I can see that they are now legendary," he replied, arching his eyebrow mischievously.
"You are not that awful," she quickly replied, shaking her head and sending her brown locks all over the place. He couldn't tell if she was being honest or just pulling his leg.
Harry stopped walking and just gaped at her. She stopped and turned around, giving him an appraising look before adding, "Alright. You are pretty awful… but you are only awful cause you get so nervous. You have got to learn to relax."
"I would relax if I knew how to dance," he confessed, looking down at his feet and wondering how a person that could be so good at sports could be so clumsy when holding a girl in his hands.
"Well, we can solve that right here and now," Hermione said with a resolute glint in her eyes, and took a step toward him. Harry's smile faltered and a sudden lump formed in his throat as the butterflies started flying on his stomach as delicately as hippogriffs on Ecstasy.
She took the broom from his hand and laid it on the floor gently. Hermione then tenderly grab the hand that had been holding the broom and placed it on her waist, just above her hipbone. Her sleeveless tee had ridden up slightly during their little game of Quidditch, and that, coupled with her low riding jeans, allowed Harry to feel her skin under his fingers.
Electricity coursed through his body as if a lighting bolt had struck him down. This was the girl that been his best friend for almost seven years... and this was the most intimate touch he had ever shared with her.
Harry watched breathlessly as she took his other arm and raised it to the side, intertwining his fingers with hers. Hermione then raised her other hand and rested it on his shoulder.
Only then did she looked up and met his eyes… and only then did Harry realized his best friend was giving him an impromptu dance lesson. Some of the tension ebbed from his shoulders… but quickly returned when the hand that had been resting on his shoulder slowly travel to the side and settle behind his neck.
"Step forward with your right foot," she ordered gently, her caramel eyes locked on his emerald orbs.
"But… but… there's no music," he stuttered clumsily, painful aware of how much he wanted to close the distance between their bodies.
"Use your imagination, Potter," Hermione said, smiling up at him reassuringly. He gulped, and took a step forward with his right foot with the gracefulness of a first generation android… and landed hard on Hermione's toes.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he quickly apologized after he saw her bite her lip from the pain, as he returned his foot to its original position.
"Don't worry about it. You just need to let me know where you are going," Hermione explained patiently.
"You mean I got to talk for as long as I dance?" Harry asked with a frown. He had seen other couples dancing before… it was strange that he had never realized that they didn't shut up.
"Not with words, Harry. But with this hand…" Hermione said with a maddening serene tone in her voice. He jumped a bit when she lowered the hand that been resting behind his neck and placed it over his hand that was resting on her waist.
"Relax, Harry. It's me… good ole Hermione," she said with a reassuring smile, her fingers lightly caressing his knuckles.
`That's exactly the problem… that you are Hermione.'
Hermione continued with the lesson with the same ease she showed when trying to explain to Neville how to work on any of Snape's potions, "You use this hand to guide me… see, the male is usually the dominant during a dance. You were probably stepping on Parvati's toes because you didn't know how to let her know what your next step was going to be. Just push your thumb into me when you want to take a step forward…"
A cold sweat immediately broke out Harry's skin.
`Hagrid and Snape belly dancing! And… and… rubbing lotion on each other! Oh, dear God, that's disgusting…! AND IT'S NOT WORKING!'
"And when you want to take a step back, just pull my flesh with your fingers… not too hard… just enough so I know to take a step forward. And follow the same principles when you want to go side to side," Hermione continued.
"Now… close your eyes," she instructed. Harry readily complied, if only to stop the sensation of drowning in her eyes. He felt her hand leave his own and settle back into his neck, brushing his hair slightly with her fingernails and sending another wave of tremors down his spine.
"Now… think of a song you like… and hear it in your head… and when you are ready… open your eyes and take a step forward with your right foot… and then a step forward with your left… and then, retrace your steps back… then, side to side…" Hermione whispered.
Her voice was so soft and hypnotic, and Harry felt as if they were once again riding the Firebolt into the sky, just contended to have Hermione in his arms, feeling the wind caress her as he wished he could, just gazing at the woman in the moon and the three little stars that were her child's tears.
And it was the sensation of holding Hermione in his arms that brought a melody into his head. He opened his eyes and look down, licking his lips nervously when her eyes bore into his.
`You look so fine'
Harry took a step forward. But this time, he didn't step on Hermione foot. He had successfully guided her back.
`I want to break your heart…
And give you mine'
He took a step back, and she followed his lead.
`You're taking me over'
Her smile widened, and he actually managed to give her a rather nervous smile as they stepped to the sides.
`It's so insane.
You've got me tethered and chained'
"See, you were not a hopeless case after all," Hermione said with a proud smile, brushing the back of his neck absently.
`I hear your name…
And I'm falling over.'
"Can I now add incredible dancer to my list of impressive abilities?" Harry asked, some of his nervousness ebbing away. Somehow… he couldn't quite explain how… feeling Hermione in his arms was starting to feel natural.
`I'm open wide.
I want to take you home.'
As if it was meant to be.
`We'll waste some time.
You're the only one for me.'
A memory suddenly burst into his head. It was of a fourth year Hermione at the Yule Ball, wearing that beautiful periwinkle blue dress with her hair up, exposing her delicate neck. She had little crystal earrings in her lovely ears, and a silver necklace with a single sparkling crystal solitaire pendant hanging around her neck. She was wearing little makeup, just a bit of blush on her cheeks and cherry lip-gloss appropriate for a fourteen-year-old girl.
But her eyes… those sweet caramel eyes sparkled more than the jewelry she was wearing. Harry instinctively knew that even if the Yule Ball had been a masquerade ball and Hermione had been hiding her lovely face behind a mask, he would have recognized her just by looking at her eyes.
Harry vaguely wondered why he had stored such an old memory with so many details in his head.
`You look so fine.
I'm like the desert tonight'
"Hermione, why didn't I asked you to the Yule Ball?" Harry asked out loud, "You would have saved Parvati from having blistered toes for a week." Impulsively, he tightened her hold on her and the little space that remained between them lessened considerably.
Hermione let out a small laugh, not phased by the fact that her body was now brushing against his, "Well, if my memory doesn't fail me, it was because of a certain crush you had a on very beautiful Ravenclaw girl."
`Leave her behind…
If you want to show me'
"Forgot about that," Harry mumbled, his mood sobering a bit when he thought what a waste of time and energy pining over Cho had been.
Hermione moved her head slightly and now rested her forehead against his cheek, making goose bumps appear on his arms.
"I'm sorry it never worked out with her, Harry," Hermione said softly, sensing his change in mood but attributing it to the wrong reasons.
`You're taking me over…'
"I'm not," he whispered breathlessly, feeling as her skin brushed against his cheek when she moved back to look at him.
`Over and over'
"She didn't make me happy, Hermione. And I definitely didn't make her happy," Harry felt the need to explain himself. Funny that Hermione was the only person that made him want to do that.
`I'm falling over'
"Why? I mean… aside from the fact that she could be a bit, well… sensitive, she was beautiful, intelligent, and courageous… she was even good at Quidditch! She was great, Harry."
`Over and over'
"No, Hermione. YOU are great," he said with uncharacteristic emotion in his voice. She once again rested her head against his chin, and he took the opportunity to close his eyes and breathe in her intoxicating fragrance, natural and sweet.
`You're taking me over'
"Thanks, Harry. But I doubt catching the snitch is my contribution to greatness," Hermione whispered with an uncharacteristically nervous smile, lowering her eyes to his chest.
`Over and Over'
Harry opened his eyes, stepped back and looked at her. Using the hand that had been raised and was still intertwined with her fingers, he pushed up her chin and made her meet his eyes.
"This doesn't have anything to do with Quidditch, Mione. I'm just saying that… that…"
`Do it!'
`Drown in me one more time'
"That I think you are awesome…" Harry whispered nervously, "I mean, Cho was beautiful and mysterious, but you…"
`Tell her!'
`Hide inside me tonight'
"You are that and so much more, Hermione… so much more," Harry finished breathlessly.
Still following that hypnotic movement she had asked of him, Harry took a step forward with his right foot… but this time, Hermione didn't move… which caused him to try to shift his weight to avoid stepping on her toes again.
But he failed… and lost his footing… and ended up crashing against her.
They both fell down, Harry falling in top of Hermione on the moist grass.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked nervously, his eyes wide, propping his weight on his arms as they settled on each side of Hermione. Hermione, her eyes closed, nodded twice before taking a deep breathe.
She opened her eyes… and let out a laugh when she saw the expression on his face.
"What is it?" Harry asked her worriedly. Had she hit the back of her head that hard? Weren't unexplainable bursts of laughter a symptom of a concussion?
"You should see your face," Hermione teased him. It was now his turn to laugh.
"Well, this wasn't exactly how I planned to impress you with my newfound dancing skills," he smirked at her.
"Umm, you are definitely not hopeless, Harry. But…" Hermione pulled on his shirt, making him lean closer until his ear was just hovering over her mouth, "I suggest you tell your date to get a life-insurance policy before you ask her to dance."
Harry laughed genuinely, his body rocking slightly on top of hers. She did the same underneath him, giggling uncharacteristically.
But when the laughter subsided, Harry became fully aware of the compromising position he was in.
His smile dropped immediately, and from his gaze all trace of playfulness vanished.
Hermione became aware of the sudden tension, and raised her gaze to meet his. She ceased smiling as a small gasp escaped her parted lips.
She had seen that intensity before in his eyes… but never directed at her.
Harry thought that the cat had to be out of the bag by now. There was no way in hell that the brightest witch in Hogwarts could miss what was happening to him.
There was no way she couldn't notice how his body reacted to hers when the proof was pressing itself against her leg.
There was no way she could not feel his heart beating on his chest, threatening to break his ribs from the sheer force of its pounding.
There was no way she could miss the desire in his eyes.
Harry propped all his weight into one arm, and he used the other to gently touch Hermione's hand, causing her to shudder faintly.
His eyes followed his hand as his fingers trailed a path from her hand and upwards, caressing her arm, her shoulders… her collarbone… the side of her neck…until his hand rested on her cheek.
`Do what you want to do'
Harry cupped her cheek gently, and used his thumb to trace lazy circles on her face, watching her as she opened and closed her mouth, but no words came from her. He hoped for his logical mind to kick in, to convince him that she was going to hex him if he got any further, to stop him from doing what he wanted so desired.
`…'
`…'
`…'
Her eyes. They were dark, intense… but unreadable.
One day, those eyes were going to be the death of him.
`Let's pretend… happy end…'
His thumb grazed her bottom lip, parting them with tenderness. The shudder that ran through her body was unmistakable.
And for the first time in Harry's life, there was no Voldemort… no Death Eaters… no Snape… no Sirius… no Roger… no past… no future… no pain… no consequence… no death… no prophecy… no guilt… no shame… no regret… no scar… no potion… no antidote…
No doubt.
To Harry, nothing else existed but the young woman whose eyes had bewitched him from the first moment their paths crossed.
`Let's pretend… happy end…'
Not daring to waste one more moment without letting her know how he felt for her, Harry lowered his lips to hers…
`Let's pretend… happy end…'
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+__+ Like? Don't like? Please let me know. I'm not really a romantic person, so this chapter was a personal challenge for me. I would love to have some constructive criticism/rant/hate-you-for-the-evil-cliiffie review on it!
Just some trivia:
Hijo de la Luna is actually an old Spanish song that tells the tale Hermione told Harry under the moonlight. The original song is by the amazing group Mecano, but there are other versions by Sarah Brightman and Mario Fragoulis that are quite good too.
You can really see a woman's face on the moon… you just have to know were to look. Look in web for some pictures that may help you!
The song Harry is thinking about is "You Look So Fine" by one of my favorite alternative bands called Garbage. It makes me weak in the knees just listening to it.
The lyrics at the beginning of the chapter are actually the ones that inspired this fic. Dream Theater is also the band behind a song called "Under a Glass Moon" from which the name of this chapter is taken.
Thanks to the wonderful people that review the last chapter for their motivation. I apologize for not being able to reply to each and every one of them, but things have been kind of hectic at work and I thought you might want to read this as soon as possible without having to wait for my reply. Again, thanks for those comments, for they are what inspire and helps me keep on writing.
Well, that's it for me.
Good night. And good life.
Anasazi
PS. A mi niña Lidia… espero que haya sido de tu agrado.
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