Stolen Moments

Part One- Harry and Hermione

His best friends were hiding something from him. Harry couldn’t understand why he hadn’t seen it before.

It was ironic, he thought, that Snape of all people would be the one who helped him see it. As he had ripped through Harry’s mind, scanned his memories in their Occlumency lesson, Harry had been able to look at his friends’ behavior over the past few weeks in a different light. It seemed so obvious now; the shifty glances and uncomfortable silences, neither of them meeting his eyes. They had a secret that Harry wasn’t in on. He surprised himself with how upset it was making him. He had kept secrets from them before. He had lied to them. They still didn’t know the truth about the prophecy. Weren’t they entitled to keep things from Harry too? Did he think he was special? He had dearly wished that shameful part of him that thought things like that had been buried last year. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Harry was so lost in his thoughts that when he first entered the common room he thought it was empty. He was halfway to the stairs when he realized he was wrong. He heard a sniffle from near the fireplace. It was Hermione.

She was sitting in her normal chair, and one of her large Arithmancy books was in her lap. Instead of reading it, she stared morosely into the fire, tears glistening on her cheeks. Harry hurried over to her, his thoughts about secrets and lies temporarily forgotten. She seemed to have heard his quickening footsteps because she hurriedly began to wipe the wetness from her face. She gave him a wan smile as he faced her.

“Harry! I thought you’d already come back from your Occlumency lesson. How was it?” she said quickly.

“The same as always,” he said. She gave a slight nod before turning her eyes to her book. An uncomfortable silence stretched out before them until Harry could stand it no longer.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“N-nothing. What makes you think there’s something wrong?” she said, not looking at him.

Harry felt his anger returning. Hermione was lying to him. She and Ron were keeping secrets. And Hermione was lying to him.

“Maybe the fact that you and Ron won’t talk to me! Or look at me! Or maybe the fact that you’re obviously keeping something from me and you just lied to my face about it!”

He had moved to stand in front of her chair, staring down at her. Tears were leaking from her eyes again and Harry felt a pang of remorse for yelling at her. But he still wanted answers.

“Well, are you going to tell me?”

“Oh Harry--” she began, her voice hitching. “Everything’s all confused-- it just happened and-- Ron-- He--”

“What is it?” Harry asked, anxious for her to reveal what exactly she was talking about.

“He thought-- I guess he thought that I-- Ron well--” She was looking every which way except at Harry as she attempted to stammer out an explanation.

“Hermione…”

“Ron k-kissed me!” she finally managed.

Harry felt as though a block of lead had been dropped on his insides. He’d had a feeling that Ron fancied Hermione. His mind ran through all of the reasons that he should be happy. None of them seemed very convincing for some reason. There were few times in his life when he felt less like being happy.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Harry asked quietly.

Hermione was looking at him strangely. “I-I suppose he was embarrassed...” She tried to meet his eyes finally, but Harry turned away, staring at the fireplace.

“Not making a very good boyfriend if he’s ashamed of you, is he?”

It took a moment before Harry realized that it was he who had said those words. Harry had no idea why he said it. He was just angry. Angry like he had been last summer. He needed to lash out...and Hermione was there. She was always there. He waited for her angry words, or sobs, or perhaps even a slap. He wanted a reaction so he could react; so that he could feel something. His anger was subsiding as quickly as it had come and a cold numbness was spreading through his body.

At first, Hermione didn’t make a sound. When he looked back at her she stared at him with her eyes slightly wide. After a moment, she looked down at her hands, fiddling with the sleeve of her robes.

“Ron and I aren’t dating,” she said quietly.

“Oh,” was all Harry could manage.

“I love Ron...I just don’t love Ron.” Harry was searching for something else to say but Hermione continued. “I told him I fancied someone else.”

“Oh,” Harry said again. Now it made sense. “Krum.” Harry suddenly remembered that he had never liked Victor Krum. Not at all. He began to turn away, but Hermione grabbed his arm.

“No, Harry. It’s not...it’s not Victor.” Then again, Krum seemed like a nice enough chap.

“Then who...” Harry trailed off because he was suddenly acutely aware of the way that Hermione was looking into his eyes and the soft pressure of her hand on his forearm.

Harry wasn’t sure which one of them moved first. Time seemed to slow and his face was getting closer and closer to Hermione’s. Their lips touched softly and Harry felt something flutter in his stomach. He felt lightheaded and dizzy and he knew that there was nothing else he would rather feel. He felt like flying and never coming down again. All too soon Hermione withdrew. Harry opened his eyes--he had not realized he had closed them--to find Hermione staring hard at him. Her mouth was opening and closing but no sound issued from it.

Harry raised a hand to touch her face, part of him wishing to coax the words out of her, the other part just wanting to kiss her again. Before he could do either, Hermione let out a high-pitched, little squeak and fled the common room. Harry couldn’t quite form any thoughts as he was left alone in the dark, with his hand reaching towards where she had been.

---

Author's Notes

Just to explain a bit this is not honestly a entire cohesive story, more like a series of cookies.

This is because I've wanted to write a sixth year HP fic for a long time. Not just a fic but a novel-length one. A full on fanfic Book Six. The problem, of course, is just that. I want to write a Harry Potter novel fic not Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

While, of course, I fully intended to put them together I wanted it to follow what I feel is Jo's plot style and that style does not include 85% of the books being romance. So, I needed a plot. A big plot, a good plot that made sense and was a logical continuation of the series so far. I'm still working on that. But, since it's taking me a while my H/Hr!Muse got restless so it kept urging me to write out the Trio relationship progression that I worked out in my head. I cannot deny my H/Hr!Muse for long.

Thus comes this series of what would be actual scenes...if only there was a fic to which they were attached. There'll probably be three or four more following this one.

-- Rawles <3

Part Two- Harry and Ron

Harry didn’t sleep well.

After he’d finally convinced his body that it was ok to move again, he’d rushed up to the sixth year boy’s dorm wanting to talk about what had just happened. It occurred to him, however, right after he opened the door, that there was no one to tell. The slightly silly grin that had claimed his face disappeared as reality came crashing down around him again. He had kissed Hermione. He had enjoyed kissing Hermione. He would very much enjoy kissing Hermione again. And he couldn’t tell Ron, because Ron fancied her too. Ron was going to hate him.

His heart sank and stomach was now somewhere around his feet. He’d crept to his four-poster quietly and lay down, drawing the hangings without even bothering to put on his pyjamas. He lay awake for a long time, his mind in turmoil. He couldn’t imagine how he could tell Ron that he, Harry, now fancied Hermione, had kissed Hermione, especially after Hermione had already rejected Ron. He could imagine that the commotion that would result in would make their row in fourth year look like a minor spat. Then what of Hermione? A cold fear had grown in his gut the more he replayed the scene in his mind. She had never actually said who it was that she fancied. She’d just said that it wasn’t Krum or Ron. That didn’t mean that it was Harry. He’d thought that it had been mutual but her reaction really did cast doubt on that perception.

Of course, if Hermione actually fancied neither of her best friends then at least he and Ron might be able to remain on good terms. Perhaps he would just tell Hermione it was a mistake and not to say anything to Ron. That way she could go and find whoever the bloke was that she really did fancy and Harry and Ron could…what? Sit around and pine after her as they watched her date whoever he was? Harry laughed mirthlessly as he thought back on Rita Skeeter’s article about Hermione, Krum, and himself. What great fun she would have with this. He could just see the headline: Terrible Trio Triangle: Boy Who Lived and Best Friend Both Have Hearts Broken by Mutual Best Friend.

That just wouldn’t do. Harry was quite certain that he didn’t want to see Hermione dating anyone else and he could almost swear that she seemed to return his feelings. Did that mean that they could date? That he wanted to date her? He had a good idea, but it all still came back around to Ron. Wasn’t it wrong of Harry to go after Hermione if Ron had liked her first, even kissed her first? He recoiled slightly at the thought. But she rejected him, a little voice in his head said, She wanted you. That’s not your fault. As much as he wanted to believe it he was sure it wasn’t and would never be that simple.

When he finally dozed off, his dreams were filled with terrible images. Hermione was perched atop the center ring on the Quidditch pitch, but whenever Harry tried to get to her Ron kept blagging him, holding onto the tail of his Firebolt, and stopping him from getting there. Harry would look back and remind Ron that they were on the same team, that there was no reason to hinder him. But Ron would insist that this was the side he was supposed to be Keeping and he would not let Harry go. The stands were filled with girls and all of them were wearing hats of Ron’s head that roared and they were cheering Ron on as he held Harry back, singing verse after verse of ‘Weasley Is Our King’. Every time Harry thought that he might get away from Ron and finally reach Hermione, Cho would show up, zipping around on her broom trying to catch the snitch, a spectacle which Harry could not help but to watch. And eventually Hermione would fall from the goal post and Ron still wouldn’t let go of Harry’s broom and someone else would swoop in and catch Hermione before she hit the ground. Many times Harry couldn’t make the person out, but sometimes it was Victor Krum, other times it was Neville Longbottom, or Terry Boot, Ernie MacMillan or Seamus Finnegan. A few times it was even Draco Malfoy. Half of the male population of Hogwarts made an appearance and each one of them would reach Hermione before Harry could. And once they caught Hermione they would keep on flying and Ron would only let go when they were too far off for Harry to catch.

When Harry awoke he found that everyone else was already gone. For a moment, he feared that he would be late for class, and then he remembered that it was Sunday. He hurriedly showered and dressed, all the while trying to think of a plan of action. He was no closer to deciding what to say to Ron than he had been last night, but he had, at least, resolved in his mind that he would straighten things out with Hermione first. For better or for worse. One of the few things of which he was certain was that he had feelings for Hermione that went beyond friendship and no matter what happened next he had acted on those feelings just moments after they had made themselves known in his mind. Even if nothing came of it at all they couldn’t just pretend it never happened. Harry had spent the past few months (though he didn’t know it then) witnessing what that avoidance had done to Ron and Hermione’s friendship, he didn’t want anything to come between him and Hermione.

Harry’s first stop was the Great Hall as it was nearly lunchtime. When he got there, however, it wasn’t Hermione he found. Ron was sitting at the Gryffindor table half-heartedly poking a fork at his food. Harry hesitated for a moment, hovering in the doorway, but before he could decide whether or not to go in, Ron looked up and spotted him. Harry didn’t have much choice but to join him. He sat down across from Ron as they exchanged quiet hellos. Ron’s eyes went immediately back to his plate and for a moment Harry seemed to find the enchanted ceiling far more interesting than he had in years. When the silence stretched between them for so long that it was almost physically painful Harry finally spoke up.

“Have you seen Hermione?” he asked and immediately wished that he had not.

Ron’s eyes narrowed and his face reddened slightly. “Haven’t seen her all day,” he responded curtly.

Harry didn’t know what it was that made him press on, but press on he did. “Do you get the feeling that, maybe, she’s upset about something?”

Ron cast Harry an appraising look as his face became even redder. Harry did his best not to look suspicious. Ron turned his eyes back to his plate before he answered.

“Maybe,” he said quietly. “I…I think so.”

Harry’s spirits rose slightly. It seemed as if Ron was finally ready to tell Harry about what had happened between him and Hermione. If he could admit that then maybe Harry could admit to the previous night’s happenings; maybe they could just talk it out. As Harry waited, it was as though their respective secrets hung in the hair between them like Garroting Gas, undetectable, but deadly all the same. If they could clear the air then they could close the distance between them. Perhaps then Harry would be able to share those things with Ron that had nothing to do with Hermione at all.

“Do you-Do you have any idea what it is that’s bothering her?” Harry asked hopefully.

Ron looked up at him suddenly, meeting his eyes. They stared that way for what seemed like forever. Then Ron turned back to his plate.

“No idea,” he lied.

Harry swallowed and nodded ever so slightly. Disappointment, anger, and guilt all warred within him. He didn’t know which emotion was going to win out, but he did know that he didn’t feel like talking to Ron anymore.

“What about you?” Ron asked.

“What?”

“Do you know what’s bothering Hermione?”

Ron was looking at him again. There seemed to be a mixture of suspicion and anxiety playing across his face. Harry didn’t know whether Ron was suspicious of Harry’s interest in Hermione or about the depth of Harry’s knowledge about what had gone on between Ron and Hermione.

“No,” he answered. There was a chill to his voice. “Look, I’ve got to go get working on my Potions essay. I’ll, uh, see you later.”

Harry rose and began to walk away. He thought he might have heard Ron say something, but he pretended that he did not.

Once he cleared the Great Hall he headed immediately for the library. After all, what better place was there to find Hermione Granger than the library? But Hermione wasn’t in the library. He had wandered about and searched every nook and cranny until Madam Pince had tired of him not actually reading anything and put him out. He’d wandered the halls then, wondering where Hermione had gotten off to if she wasn’t in the library.

He checked a few empty classrooms but decided that was a futile endeavor rather soon. Of course, he was helped along by Filch eyeing him suspiciously after he exited a classroom. Harry had mumbled something about leaving his favorite quill and hurried off. He was going to check the Room of Requirement when it occurred to him that he knew has a surefire way to find Hermione. He hurried back to Gryffindor Tower, speeding past the Fat Lady so quickly that she scolded him loudly, and went immediately to his room. He tossed a few things out of his trunk as he searched before he found what he was looking for.

Harry removed the Marauder’s Map and unfolded it. He tapped his wand on it lightly and mumbled the password. As Hogwarts appeared on the old piece of parchment he searched for Hermione. He felt a pang of irrational jealousy when he saw that the dot labeled “Ronald Weasley” was in the library. Harry knew that looking for Hermione was the only reason that Ron would ever be in the library on a Sunday. He ignored the mild pleasure he took in the knowledge that Ron would not find Hermione before he did. His eyes scanned the map for a few more moments before he finally pinpointed her. The dot labeled “Hermione Granger” was outside on the grounds, near the lake. She didn’t seem to be moving so, Harry, hoping that he could catch her, folded the map, placed it in his pocket, and hurried back down through the common room and out the portrait hole.

Part Three- Hermione and Harry

Things like this were not supposed to happen to girls like her. No, indeed. Girls like Hermione Granger were supposed to spend their school life boyfriend-less, un-kissed, with nothing but a long list of unrequited crushes to show for themselves. Or at least that’s what Hermione was telling herself, as she sat under a tree near the lake trying and failing to get to work on her Arithmancy project. Something in her mind had decided that if she focused on how irrational and illogical her current situation was, she’d somehow realize that it wasn’t happening at all. But no matter how many times she went over the list of reasons that she was unattractive to boys she still couldn’t escape the fact that she was embroiled in a big mess.

She had not just been kissed by one of her best friends, oh no, Hermione Granger never did anything halfway; she had to have been kissed by both of them. Now, the girl with all the answers had absolutely no idea what to do next. She knew how she felt, though she had tried not to, she just had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

She thought back to the previous night and scolded herself internally. She should never have let Harry kiss her. Of course, her logical side had to pipe up then to point out that she had actually kissed him. Either way, it should not have been allowed. It was as if the entire world had slowed down and she could not stop her momentum. It was not until it was over that Hermione had realized that it had actually happened. She had kissed Harry. Not just wondered what it would be like. Not just daydreamed about it during Arithmancy class. She had really, truly kissed him. Really. It had seemed so impossible to her that she had just gotten caught up as though it were a dream. As though there were no consequences.

Now, she was in big trouble. Ron still was not really speaking to her from before and now she had no idea what to say to Harry. Not that she had been able to say much to him since Ron had kissed her. Every word that came out of her mouth wanted to be the story of how that had happened and sent them all down this road to what seemed like the ruination of their friendship. With a sigh, Hermione dropped her quill into her open book, accepting that she was getting nothing done.

Not thirty seconds had passed since she had done this when she saw Harry coming towards her. His hair was more disheveled than usual and his face was mildly flushed. He looked as though he had been running. Hermione looked about, her first instinct to flee as opposed to dealing with the undoubtedly mortifying situation that was about to occur. Unfortunately, they were on level, open ground. Harry ran faster than her. If he wanted to, he would certainly catch her. So, as quickly as it came to her, Hermione abandoned the idea of flight and stayed put. He smiled as he approached her, which she decided might be a good sign. He hesitated a moment before he sat down beside her. He looked at his hands, suddenly nervous, and Hermione braced herself for what she knew was coming. She hoped that she could stop herself from crying.

“I, uh, I wanted to talk to you...about-about last night,” he began, his face going slightly pink.

“Yes, I wanted to talk to you too,” she said, her voice flat.

He nodded slightly but she could not tell whether he was pleased with that information or not. “You can go first then,” he offered. Hermione considered this, but it soon became apparent that she could honestly think of nothing to say, or rather no good way to phrase it. She supposed she could just say exactly what she was thinking, Well, Harry, we’re best friends, even though I’ve fancied you since fourth year, and I know that you could never feel that same way about me and now since I’ve thrown myself at you like a brazen hussy I think we ought to just forget the whole thing ever happened and go back to like we were before even though there’s no way we can be like we were before for many reasons not the least of which is that now every time I see you I want to snog you senseless. On second thought...

“No, you can go first.”

He nodded again, took a deep breath, and turned completely to face her.

“Hermione...I know what happened was...well, weird, but I-I don’t want it to mess us up. I mean, you’re my best friend and I-I, uhm, well, I just want us to stay close.”

Hermione made herself nod and clenched her teeth together. She did not know what would come out of her mouth if she did not.

He continued. “I mean, not to say that we won’t still be close if you’re-you’re not my girlfriend, but I just wanted you to know that I, sort of, need you to, at least, be my friend because you’ve, well, you’ve helped me a lot over the years and--“

“You-You want me to be your girlfriend?” she asked surprised, cutting him off as he stumbled through his words. Her mind had gotten stuck at the phrase “if you're not my girlfriend,” and she really needed to make sure that she was not just hearing things that she wanted to hear. "If you're not my girlfriend" meant that that was an eventuality for which he was not planning. She could scarcely believe it.

Harry’s face reddened and he looked mildly confused. “Well, yeah, why wouldn’t I? That’s what I wanted to talk to you about." He looked stricken all of a sudden. "I mean, if you don’t want to--“

Hermione was not sure what made her do what she did next. Perhaps it was pure, unadulterated joy and relief, or maybe it was just a desire that she had sublimated for quite some time. Whichever was the case, it did not really matter to her at that moment.

Without preamble, she fisted a hand in Harry’s hair and crushed her lips to his. He froze, shocked for a moment, before he relaxed again. He raised a hand to Hermione face and gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. She giggled against his lips and he sucked on her bottom lip lightly before they parted. She could not imagine how he could have ever thought that he was a bad kisser.

His face was bright red at this point, and she was sure hers was too. She was also sure that the smile he was wearing was mirrored on her own face, as well.

“That was a ‘yes,’ right?” he asked and Hermione giggled again, absently wondering when she had become the sort of girl to giggle. Harry Potter had always done strange things to her.

She leaned in to kiss him again. This time however, when his hand came up he knocked over the bottle of ink that was perched precariously on her open Arithmancy book. They jumped back and Hermione whispered a quick “Scourgify” and cleaned up the mess.

“You know, we really shouldn’t be doing this here,” she said, thinking about how it would look for a prefect to be caught snogging with her boyfriend out on the grounds. Her boyfriend. She loved the sound of that. Her boyfriend, Harry. Absurdly, Hermione wished for them to meet some new people so that she could introduce him as such.

“We probably shouldn’t,” he conceded, but kissed her again anyway. His tongue had just brushed her lips when something came crashing into her head, unexpected and unwanted.

“Ron!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled by Harry’s mouth.

Harry pulled away immediately, looking a little hurt and quite put out. Hermione realized what he must think and shook her head emphatically.

“Oh! No, Harry. It’s not that,” she said, and gave him another quick peck on the lips for emphasis. “If we’re going to...It’s just...we have to tell him...about this...about us.”

Hermione could see the realization dawn on Harry, and he looked guilty.

“Yeah, I suppose so. I’ve, actually, already sort of talked to him today...”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “You have? Oh my, what did you say? Was he angry? Did-did you tell him--“

“I, uh, I didn’t really tell him anything...” Harry’s face was flushed again. “I was sort of trying to get him to tell me...about you and him.”

Hermione took on a thoughtful air as she absently wiped a smudge of her lip gloss from the corner of Harry’s mouth with her thumb. “I suppose that’s all for the best. I...I think I should be the one to tell him, Harry. Alone.”

Harry looked mildly displeased with at this suggestion, but Hermione cut him off before he could protest.

“He’s going to be angry, Harry. And after what happened between you two in fourth year, if you’re there it’ll just make it worse for him. It’s not that you can’t talk to him about it. I just want to tell him first, to cushion the blow, you understand?”

Harry nodded, though he looked a bit sullen. Hermione was not sure it was because he himself wanted to tell Ron or if he just did not want her to tell Ron. Though, she couldn’t imagine why he would object to the latter. It took another moment of studying his expression before it dawned on her that he was jealous. She could not help but smile at the thought.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said as she toned down her smile. “We’d better get going. The sooner we tell Ron the better.”

Harry did not respond, but rather began to help her gather up her things where they were spread out on the grass and place them in her bag. When everything was packed up, he stood and helped her to her feet, then, wordlessly, took the heavy bag from her shoulder and put it on his own.

“Where was Ron when you talked to him?” Hermione asked, as they walked back towards the castle.

“He was in the Great Hall, but he was in the library last time I checked.” He nodded to his side and she saw the telltale piece of parchment sticking out of his pocket. Hermione removed the Marauder’s Map from Harry’s pocket and unfolded it enough to see the library. The dot labeled “Ronald Weasley” was static there.

“He’s still there,” she informed Harry.

“Well,” Harry said resignedly, as he looked at the ever-nearing castle. “Here we go.”

“Here we go,” Hermione agreed.

---

Author's Notes

I have to apologize to everyone who was following this fic, for this chapter taking so incredibly long. My muse got a little distracted by two entirely different stories (also H/Hr, if you're interested; a one shot and a longer one with plot; the one shot is actually up already) and I was having a terrible time getting this particular chapter out, and the rest of the story planned out.

Obviously, I finally succeeded and I threw in a little tiny extra bit of fluff for your troubles (not that this wasn't mostly fluff anyway).

Contrary to what I previously said back in chapter one about there only being three or four more parts after that, now that I've finished cementing everything that's happening, I can tell you with 99% certainty that there are six more chapters after this. Which brings the projected total to nine. Of course, they're all about this same length so it's really not all that much when you think about it.

Anyway, I'm trying to have the next part (or two) up within the week.

-- Rawles <3