Author's Notes:
1) Thank you once again to Ella_Marie, my wonderful, beautiful beta!
2) I apologise to anyone who's been waiting for this chapter - thank you all for the reviews of chapter 2, I'm thrilled that you're all enjoying the story so much. I've had terrible writer's block and it's taken me 2 months to get this chapter down - sorry to keep you all waiting!
Chapter 3 - Close Yet Far
"So you're talking to us now are you?" said Ron, rather nastily.
"Ron!" Harry said sharply, rather shocked at his friend's tone. Hermione cast her eyes down and shuffled her feet.
"I'll go, if you want," she said in a small voice.
"No, don't go," said Harry. He glared at Ron who, to his credit, was now looking quite guilty.
"Sorry Hermione," he said. "I'm not angry at you, it's this bloody spell, I can't get it right."
She looked back up at them then, rather hopefully, and Harry smiled at her.
"Are you going to sit down then?" he asked.
There was no denying the feeling of tension between the three of them as Hermione took her seat; she kept looking from Harry to the table to Ron and back to the table again. Harry and Ron exchanged a look as they fought for some way to break the ice, aware that many of the other Gryffindors were watching them with interest. Ron picked up his wand.
"So," he said, "it's fre-zes-cus then-"
A great frosty blast shot out from his wand which was unfortunately pointed towards his face; as it dissipated a great roar of laughter rose up from the Gryffindors as they caught sight of Ron, who's head now resembled a snowball. His stunned expression was literally frozen onto his face; icicles hung from his ears and nostrils and chilly steam was rising from his head. The laughter soon spread throughout the Great Hall, and there was a quick flash as Colin Creevey captured the event on film. Harry was still in shock and he looked over at Hermione who was wide-eyed; holding each other's gaze their shock turned into creeping smiles and then, unable to contain it any longer, they burst out laughing along with everyone else.
"It's not funny," Ron said later as they walked towards Charms. He was still very rosy-cheeked as he warmed up and he rubbed at his earlobes in an attempt to get some feeling back into them.
"At least you can do the spell now," Hermione said, unable to contain her grin.
"Yes yes, very funny Hermione. You could have told me how strong it was going to be!"
"Well I wasn't expecting you to say the incantation with your wand pointed at your face!"
"Elementary Wand Safety, Ron," said Harry, grinning along with Hermione. "Didn't Moody teach you anything?"
"Well actually no he didn't," said Ron. "He was locked in a ruddy box."
They were the last to arrive at the Charms classroom and as they entered Ron was treated to another round of applause; even tiny Professor Flitwick joined in, standing on top of his usual pile of books. Ron scowled and sat down next to Hermione; Harry felt a small pang of . . . something, when he realised there was no room left for him. He took a seat behind them, next to Neville.
Jealous already? said that familiar voice.
Shut up, Harry told it.
The hour passed achingly slowly for Harry. He found his gaze drifting constantly to Hermione, watching how her long hair swayed as she moved around. He had to admit that the voice was right - he was jealous of Ron getting to sit next to her, to be so close. She'd only just begun speaking to them again and here he was stuck next to Neville, making small talk with the good-natured boy whilst his thoughts dwelled on his female best friend sitting a few feet in front of them. At least he was getting the spell right; both he and Neville were successfully freezing each new object Flitwick placed in front of them as he continually made rounds around the classroom to check their progress and administer counter-spells when needed - Ron cheered when Lavender accidentally froze Parvati's hand to the desk.
"What?" he said as Hermione glared at him.
It wasn't all bad though. Twice Harry looked up from his concentration to find Hermione had been looking back at him, turning back around sharply with a fierce blush on her face when he caught her. No-one else seemed to notice, not even Ron who was sitting right next to her. It gave Harry yet another feeling that he couldn't quite place . . . was he happy about what was happening? Did Hermione really like him as more than a friend after all? The fact that she had been staring certainly suggested it . . .
Face it, said the voice. Hermione likes you. You know it, I know it. And what's more - you like her too. You can deny it all you want but you know it's true.
For once Harry didn't shush the voice. He dwelled on it as he continued to stare at the back of her. Ron was saying something to her, gesticulating wildly, and Hermione was listening with her chin cupped in one hand. She brushed a stray hair away with her other hand and Harry felt a great longing to touch that hair, to run his hands through it and be the one to smooth it away from her face. It wasn't at all frizzy, he thought, but actually curly and rather shiny . . . he wondered whether she used a magical shampoo or a Muggle one . . .
"Earth to Harry."
He jumped, dropping his wand which gave out a feeble little blast of cold air.
"You all right?" Neville asked him.
"Er . . . yeah, I'm fine Neville . . ."
"That's the end of the lesson, Harry," Neville said, giving him a look which said he didn't believe that he was fine at all.
Harry hadn't even noticed that everyone else had started packing their things away. He hurriedly gathered his things into his bag as Ron and Hermione stood waiting for him.
"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked. Ron was giving him a funny look which Harry was sure meant "I know exactly what's the matter and I'm not happy". He sighed inwardly.
"I'm fine," he said, as happily as he could manage. "Just not looking forward to Potions, that's all."
"Oh, don't remind me," said Ron as the three of them headed off towards the dungeons.
"The Blood-Replenishing Potion isn't that hard," said Hermione. "As long as you've done the homework you'll be fine. You have done the homework, haven't you?"
She looked back and forth between Harry and Ron who were walking on either side of her and raised her eyebrows at their worried grins.
"Honestly, I don't know what you'd do with more than a few days without me."
Harry looked at Ron sharply over the top of Hermione's head; this was the first time she had mentioned the last few days of her not speaking to them and he felt a moment of panic - what should they say? Ron looked equally bewildered, and they both began to mumble.
"Yeah . . . well . . ."
"Um . . . yeah . . . er . . ."
Hermione seemed to have realised what she said as well for her cheeks went slightly pink and she said nothing more about it. Instead, she began talking them through the finer points of the Blood-Replenishing Potion. Ron even managed to crack a joke, and they were all laughing as they walked into Snape's classroom in the cold dungeons. The smile soon faded off Harry's face as he noticed Malfoy giving them a sneering grin as they entered before turning to whisper to Crabbe and Goyle. Harry knew this couldn't be good. The three of them took their usual seats at the back of the classroom, and Harry felt a rather giddy little thrill when Hermione sat between the two boys. He realised he had a rather silly grin on his face as Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, a puzzled smile on her lips as she regarded him. He blushed a little and began taking ingredients out of his bag.
Nice one Potter, he thought. Make it more obvious, why don't you?
At that moment Professor Snape entered the classroom making a welcome distraction; he strode in briskly, robes billowing out behind him, and all murmurs of conversation in the room vanished instantly. He seemed to be in a particularly vindictive mood as he slammed several books down on his desk and drew his wand.
"You all know your work," Snape snapped. "You have had enough preparation time to research the Blood-Replenishing Potion. The ingredients and instructions are on the board."
He waved his wand and the board was filled with rows of neat white instructions. Harry groaned inwardly - it looked just as complicated as any potion he'd made in the past.
"You have an hour and a half exactly," said Snape, staring at each of them in turn. "Start!"
Having a conversation in Snape's classroom was a risky business at the best of times, but Harry knew that he wouldn't dare try and speak to Hermione now with the mood Snape was in, no matter how much he wanted to. The three of them set to work along with the rest of the class, igniting their cauldrons and carefully weighing and measuring ingredients. Harry tried his hardest to get the potion right, not wanting to bear the wrath of Snape's foul mood, but he found it hard to concentrate with Hermione sitting so close to him. He could smell a lovely kind of flowery smell that he thought must be her perfume, and every now and then their arms or hands would brush each other's as they reached for another ingredient or went to stir their cauldrons. Each time it happened Harry felt a little shock run through him and they would catch each other's eye for just a second, both of them pink-cheeked and grinning. Ron seemed to be concentrating too hard on his potion to notice, to Harry's relief, but one time he looked away from Hermione to find Malfoy grinning at them again and his stomach plummeted. Whatever Draco had in store for them, it was going to be bad.
Finally the end of the lesson came; Harry's potion wasn't the bright tomato red of Hermione's, more of a dark brown, but at least it wasn't as bad as Ron's which was orange, or Neville's for that matter which was a bright shining blue. Snape was looking at the contents of Neville's cauldron with utter disdain.
"Bring a sample to the front of the class. You will receive your mark at the beginning of next week's lesson - not that I need to test Mr Longbottom's to know what the result will be . . ."
He smirked as he said this and Neville flushed crimson in embarrassment as the Slytherins all laughed.
"You may leave."
The trio carefully packed their ingredients away and made their way towards the door, finding themselves at the back of the crowd.
"I thought you said that potion was going to be easy!" Ron said to Hermione.
"I didn't say it would be easy," Hermione replied. "I said it's not that hard, providing you'd done the work. Which you hadn't."
"She's got a point there, Ron."
"Yeah, well . . ." grumbled Ron. "Don't see why we need Potions anyway . . ."
They laughed at this, and almost walked straight past Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle who were leaning against the cool stone wall, obviously waiting for them as the other students filed past. Draco still wore the sneering grin he'd been giving Harry throughout Potions.
"I see your Mudblood is talking to you again, Potter," he said.
The three of them stopped in their tracks. At Draco's taunting words Harry felt his blood beginning to boil; Ron seemed to be too, for his hands had clenched into fists tightly.
"You watch your mouth, Malfoy," Ron said.
"What's the matter, Weasel?" Malfoy said, obviously enjoying himself. "Are the rumours true then? Granger here had to pick out of you or Potter, and she chose Potter?"
Hermione had gone bright red and was too embarrassed to try and say anything. Harry was furious and opened his mouth to tell Malfoy to mind his own business but Malfoy wouldn't stop. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling along with him.
"I suppose I understand why though, as even Scar-Head has got a bit of money to his name, unlike you Weasel!"
Ron roared in rage.
"You shut your mouth now, Malfoy!" Harry said blazingly.
"I'll close it whenever I want, Potter," Malfoy said coolly, regarding the Boy-Who-Lived with distaste. Then he glanced at Hermione and, smirking, looked her up and down.
"I don't know what either of you'd want with her personally," Malfoy went on, sneering. "I mean, some people have a thing for ugly Mudblood trolls but not me . . ."
That was the breaking point for both boys. Harry was on fire - how dare he say that about Hermione! And still he stood there, sneering, taunting him . . .
Ron sprang at Malfoy but Crabbe and Goyle had seemingly been waiting for just that and immediately grabbed him by each arm, using their huge size to restrain him. Ron yelled and tried to struggle but it was no use. Harry had moved forwards as well, intent on wiping that dirty sneering grin off of Malfoy's face, but he felt a tight tug on his arm that made him turn back. Hermione was holding on with all her might, trying to pull him back.
"Harry, please, don't!" she said in that small squeaky voice she'd been using the last few days. She looked like she'd never been so embarrassed in all her life.
"That's right Potter, listen to your little girlfriend. I saw the way you two were giggling at each other in the lesson!"
Harry's cheeks flushed at this, despite his anger. He didn't want to see what Ron's reaction to this was.
"I've been wondering what you see in her, Potter," Draco went on, one hand sliding surreptitiously towards his wand. "Have you ever heard of that Muggle term the Oedipus Complex? Your mother was a Mudblood too, wasn't she? Maybe that's why you like Granger so much . . ."
Harry had never felt so angry in his entire life: it felt like red-hot lava was flowing through his veins and a red haze had clouded his vision. He shrugged off Hermione's grip and drew his own wand, seeing Malfoy's already in his own hand and ignoring the shouts of Ron, Hermione and the other students who had gathered to watch. He would not hurt Malfoy, no, he would humiliate him just as Malfoy had done to him . . . at once the air was filled with the sounds of duelling:
"Tarantallegra!"
"Diffindo!"
Harry cried out as Malfoy's Cutting Curse hit him across his shoulder, slicing open his uniform and drawing blood from underneath. At the same time Malfoy began to do an odd sort of jig, his legs dancing crazily underneath him. But he was not done. He raised his wand again, taking aim unsteadily as his legs continued their own little five-step beneath him.
"Conjuctiva!" Malfoy shouted.
"Protego!"
Harry was too fast for Malfoy; his Shield Charm reflected the Conjuctivitus Curse right back at Draco who cried out in surprise. What should have been a hilarious sight - Malfoy stumbling around blindly with his arms out in front of him, his legs still doing a crazy jig - was deadly serious as Harry approached him, his wand raised. His anger still burned.
"IMMOBULUS!"
Harry was paralysed; Malfoy had also frozen still, one leg bent in mid-air at an unusual angle. Snape was standing in the doorway to his classroom, wand raised, looking the angriest Harry had ever seen him.
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"
Not waiting for a reply, he strode over to Malfoy and uttered two quick counter-curses. Crabbe and Goyle released Ron just as Snape lifted the Immobulus Charm holding the two boys.
"ANSWER ME!"
"It was Malfoy sir, he started it!" Ron said hotly. "He was calling Hermione horrible names!"
"Potter attacked me, sir!" Draco said. "I was only having a joke with them but then he just pulled his wand out! I had to defend myself, sir!"
"You liar!" Harry shouted.
"SILENCE!" Snape roared.
He surveyed them all viciously and then turned to Harry.
"I would have thought that by now, Potter, you would have learned that this school does not permit fighting or using magic in the corridors. AND I CERTAINLY DO NOT PERMIT IT OUTSIDE MY CLASSROOM!"
He glanced at Harry's bleeding shoulder.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor. You will serve detention with me tonight, Potter. Be here at seven o'clock. Now all of you, move along!"
- - -
It was a little after one in the morning when Harry clambered painfully through the portrait hole. Snape had made him clean all of the first year's cauldrons, most of which had contained the burnt-on remains of some foul-smelling mixture; now Harry's hands were raw and bleeding in several places, and his arms felt ready to drop off. More than anything he wanted to crawl into bed, but that thought left him when he caught sight of the sleeping form next to the fire.
The common room was dark, lit only by a few candles at this late hour and the light of fire which was now burning low in the grate. Hermione was slumped in her usual armchair next to the fire, a book open on her lap and Crookshanks curled up at her feet, also asleep. Harry made his way over to her quietly and felt his breath disappear as he looked at her sleeping so peacefully; the firelight flickered and danced over her skin and gave a soft red glow to her hair.
She's beautiful, he thought.
It was at that point that Harry knew he could no longer deny his feelings for Hermione.
I told you so, said the familiar voice in his head.
"Yes, you did," Harry said very quietly. He smiled. He would have been happy to sit and watch Hermione sleep a bit longer, but he knew he should wake her up. He reached out and gently shook her arm.
"Hermione, wake up . . ."
She stirred and then smiled sleepily at him, pushing herself up in the chair.
"Harry," she said softly, still sounding half-asleep. "What time is it?"
"I don't know for sure. It's gone one o'clock."
She blinked a few times groggily and then caught sight of his hands; instantly she was wide awake and fretting.
"Oh Harry look at your hands!"
"I've had worse . . ."
"Sit down."
Hermione reached over the side of her chair and picked up a white cloth bag as Harry sat down on the sofa. She got up and then knelt down in front of him, rummaging through the bag until she found what she was looking for. Harry recognised the magical swabs from his many visits to the Hospital Wing; peering into the bag he could see an assortment of other bits and pieces used in healing.
"I was worried Professor Snape would hurt you," Hermione said softly, frowning as she examined Harry's hands.
"It wasn't him personally, it was the first years' cauldrons . . . since when did you start learning to be a Healer?"
"Since I realised you weren't going to stop getting hurt."
She grinned at him as she said this and Harry chuckled.
"So I've got my own personal nurse?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.
"If you even think of mentioning something about a uniform . . ." she said warningly.
"Never crossed my mind."
That had Hermione chuckling softly herself as she pressed the swabs onto the most badly damaged areas of Harry's hands. Harry winced as they immediately began to sting.
"Sorry, I should have warned you . . . oh Harry this is awful, they're red raw."
"It's not that bad, it just stings a bit . . ."
Harry then realised something.
"Hermione . . . is that why you were waiting up? Just to see if I was all right?"
He wasn't sure in the dim light of the fire but he thought she was blushing again. He waited until she was looking at him again.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome, Harry," she said, smiling gently. They held each other's gaze for a few moments until Hermione gave a little start and remembered what she was doing.
"Right . . . this is probably going to sting a bit more, sorry . . ."
She took out her wand and pointed it at each of the swabs, muttering a quiet incantation. The swabs began to glow with a soft yellow light and at first Harry felt a rather sharp stinging sensation, but it soon turned to a cool feeling that began to spread through his hands and the pain began to fade. He soon could see new skin growing over the raw, shining areas.
"I'm nowhere near as good as Madame Pomfrey so this will take a bit longer, I'm sure she could do this in a jiffy . . ."
"This is fine, Hermione."
Harry felt rather peculiar at that moment. He was aware of how close Hermione was to him; there was a funny sensation fluttering around in his chest making him feel almost giddy . . . it was similar to the rush he felt when he was on his broom, but different . . . and he was scared too. There were many rather awkward questions he wanted to ask her, and he was scared of what the answers might be. And he was scared that at any moment he might turn into a babbling idiot. So he said nothing; he simply gazed at Hermione as she worked on his hands. She was frowning in concentration and, endearingly, the tip of her tongue was poking out of the corner of her mouth.
"There," she said a few minutes later, and removed the swabs. She took Harry's hands in her own and turned them over, inspecting her work. "Good as new."
Harry closed his hands around Hermione's, which seemed to fit in his perfectly. They were smooth and warm.
"Thank you, Hermione. I mean it."
"It's all right, Harry."
She looked at him for a moment and then her head tilted to one side slightly.
"I do wish you hadn't started duelling with Malfoy," she said wistfully.
Her tone took Harry by surprise; earlier that evening, when her embarrassment had faded, she had been very annoyed with both him and Ron for fighting with Malfoy.
"Did you hear what he called you, Hermione?"
"Yes," she said, still softly. "'Ugly Mudblood Troll', as I recall. But you knew he was only trying to get you in trouble. Merlin, it's normally Ron who's the hot-headed one!"
"I know," Harry said, bowing his head slightly. "But I won't having him saying things like that about you! You're anything but a . . ."
"Ugly troll?"
"You're beautiful."
Harry felt a moment of panic; he wasn't sure if he'd actually said that or not. He was aware that he was still holding Hermione's hands, for her grip tightened.
"Do you really mean that?" she said, so softly it was almost a whisper.
The panic fought with the fluttering desire in his chest and lost.
"Yes . . . you're the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts. By far."
Her eyes had a sparkle dancing in them and her lips parted ever so slightly as if she wanted to say something but couldn't quite muster the courage. At that moment Harry wanted nothing more than to kiss those lips, the lips belonging to his best friend. He could feel the tension in the air between the two of them. He was sure she felt it too, for he could see for certain now that her face was flushed. His own face, he realised, was probably as red as the potion Hermione had made earlier that day but he didn't care. But, despite being Gryffindor through and through, Harry could not quite muster the courage to lean forward and do what his heart desired. Before he could do that, he needed to know. He needed to ask her the question that had plagued him and, he thought, Ron, ever since the fateful news had come from Lavender's mouth.
"Hermione . . . why did you . . . why did you choose me?"
He tensed as soon as the words left his mouth, knowing that they could destroy this intimate moment between them. Hermione looked down at her lap for a few moments and then gazed back up at him; to Harry's relief she was still smiling and the pinkness was still in her cheeks.
"Ron likes me," she said.
Harry frowned slightly - that wasn't anything he thought she might say.
"OK," he said slowly.
"I don't like him."
Harry's eyebrows raised at that, and Hermione giggled.
"I do like him, of course, just not in the same way that he likes me. He's my best friend."
"And . . . what about me?"
She looked down again for a moment. Her hands had begun to shake slightly and Harry realised that Hermione truly did have the heart of a Gryffindor for when she spoke next he could tell she was using all the courage she possessed.
"You're my best friend too Harry, of course . . . but I feel for you as . . . more than a friend. And there's no-one who I'd like to have my first kiss with more than you."
Harry didn't know how to describe how he felt; her words seemed to warm his heart and he felt his affection for Hermione surging forwards. The times in his life when he had been wanted and needed and indeed, desired, had been rare, and here was the most beautiful girl in the world who was his best friend in the world telling him that he was all of those things to her. She was looking down again shyly, something so unlike Hermione who was normally so confident. She was showing Harry a private side of herself and Harry felt pride that she had showed it to him; he knew then he would do the same. He would show her all of his shyness and his worries, but most of all he would show her his affection.
He waited for her to look back up at him. When she did he could see nervousness in her eyes, afraid of rejection and the destruction of friendship. He smiled warmly at her.
"Hermione . . . I feel for you as more than a friend too."
The fear in her eyes vanished and a smile played across her lips; tentative but promising.
"And . . ." Harry went on, feeling his nerves beginning to make their presence known again, "there is nothing I would rather do now than kiss you . . ."
Another few moments of silence passed between them, their gazes locked together. Then, agonisingly slowly, Harry began to lean forwards towards her. His panic flared again as he thought oh no what if she doesn't move what if she doesn't want me to kiss her now and I just look stupid and Merlin it'll be so awkward and then but then she began to lean forwards towards him too, their eyes never leaving each other. Exhilaration coursed through Harry as they drew agonisingly closer to each other . . . they were almost touching now . . . Hermione had closed her eyes so he did the same . . . their noses brushed each other softly . . . he could feel the bangs of her hair tickling his forehead . . . he could feel each of her breaths on his mouth, long and ragged . . . just as their lips were about to brush one another . . .
CRASH!
They jerked apart suddenly, turning to the source of the noise which turned out to be a red-faced Neville in his pyjamas who had knocked over a candle holder.
"I'm sorry!" he said, and Harry somehow knew that Neville had seen them about to kiss and realised what kind of moment he had ruined. "Trevor's gone again and I thought he might be down here and . . ."
He looked at them apologetically.
"I'll just go back to bed . . ."
They watched him scamper back up the stairs and Harry sighed in despair. The moment was utterly ruined. Hermione had withdrawn her hands and quickly stood up, clutching her healing bag to her.
"Hermione . . ."
"It really is rather late, Harry . . . I think it's best if we went to sleep . . ."
He could tell that she was torn between doing just that and staying right where she was. Harry ran one hand through his hair and stood up himself. Whatever had been in the air between them was gone and they were both feeling embarrassed. He looked at her and found himself fumbling for words; he couldn't think of what to say . . .
Of all the times, Neville!
"It's all right, Harry."
She was smiling rather nervously. He wished it was the other kind of smile he'd seen only a short time ago.
"I'll see you in the morning . . ."
"Okay . . ."
She took a tentative step or two backwards, still looking at him, and then turned and walked to the staircase leading to the girls dormitories. She paused there and turned back to him; he hadn't moved, and the longing Hermione felt for him only multiplied. But her courage was gone, now drowning underneath the nerves and embarrassment brought about by Neville's untimely entrance. She took one more look at him and then she was gone.
Standing in the flickering firelight, Harry sighed.
- - -