Author's note: I know, I know…I promised this would be up much sooner. I am an evil cliffhanger writer, aren't I? I am sorry for making you guys wait. Hopefully this chapter will make up for it. Please let me know what you think…good, bad, or indifferent. A special thanks to my pal Heaven for catching a big error on this one for me…she knows what I'm talking about.
Chapter 10
The Great Pretenders
Over the years, Harry Potter had wondered what kissing Hermione Granger would be like. It was only natural he told himself to think about this because she was his best female friend and they'd both had to endure countless inquiries about the true nature of their relationship. In fact, he and Ron had once discussed during sixth year what kissing Hermione might feel like. They'd both concurred that kissing Hermione would probably be tantamount to kissing a sister.
Now, years later, as he was engaged in a snog with one Miss Hermione Jane Granger, Harry could safely and confidently say that kissing her was not stirring "brotherly" feelings in him. In fact, he was at the moment too busy tasting her sweet lips and feeling intoxicated by the smell of her hair.
Truth be told, he hadn't planned on kissing her like this…in front of an audience. It was just a few short minutes ago that he'd lugged their suitcases upstairs and he'd overheard Rachel's biting remarks to Hermione.
"Hermione, let's face it. You're no beauty by any stretch of the imagination. You're kind of
plain, to be honest. You're the kind of girl that blokes want to marry not the type that they want to have a bit of
fun with."
"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Rachel said quickly. "It's really great that
you have someone like Harry. I'm just surprised."
Those words had infuriated him. If anything, Harry thought to himself, any guy would be lucky to have Hermione fancy him. To Harry, Hermione was the type of girl that he could see himself wanting to marry and the type of girl he could see himself having a bit of fun with. She was all those things and more. And if that Rachel person couldn't recognize that, well, Harry thought it was time someone showed her what was what and took her down a peg or two. If Rachel were a bloke, he'd have walked in the bedroom and punched her lights out. But, being as she was a girl and he was a guest in her home, he decided not to go that route. Instead, he'd walked into the room, dropped the bags on the floor, grabbed Hermione by the hand and snogged her with everything he had.
He knew he'd taken her by surprise, if her initial reaction was any indication. She'd stiffened a bit, but then, to his delight, she'd quickly gotten into it. He didn't know if it was because she didn't want to drop the ruse in front of Rachel and was just going with it or if she truly was into the kiss itself. Right now, he didn't care.
Harry quickly forgot that they were "performing" for an audience. Everything in that bedroom faded away as he concentrated on the task at hand, or in his hands, as it were. He couldn't say how long, they stood like that, wrapped in each other's arms, continuing to kiss and touch and feel. He vaguely registered the fact that their audience of one, obviously feeling uncomfortable at witnessing this display of affection, was at the moment, tiptoeing out of the room.
"Hermione," he heard himself murmur as he brought his lips down to her neck.
Unfortunately, saying her name seemed to jolt her back into reality and she whispered, "W-where did Rachel go?"
"I don't know," he said as he held on to her, still feeling a little dazed.
They stared at each other for quite some time, neither seeming sure of what to say or do next.
"W-why did you do that?" she asked suddenly, awkwardly stepping out of his embrace.
"Do what?" he asked with a shy smile.
"Kiss me," she answered. "Just now…why did you do that?"
"Because your cousin was saying some horrible things to you," Harry replied simply.
She registered what he said, but he could tell she was wondering if that was all there was to it. With a slight smile, he walked over to where he'd dropped the suitcases and picked them up and carried them over to the bed.
He looked over at Hermione who was still standing stock still, looking lost in thought.
"Something wrong?" he asked as he opened his suitcase.
"Why did you…I mean, why did you continue even after she'd left the room?" she asked shyly.
"Why did you?" he countered.
"I-I--," she stammered.
"Yes?" he asked.
"I asked you first," she answered. She walked over to where he stood by the bed and folded her arms.
"Yes, you did," he admitted with a laugh.
"Well?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes trained on his.
"In case she came back," Harry lied. "You know, I was supposed to be kissing you like a boyfriend would, right? I wouldn't just stop when she walked out of the room, would I? She probably thinks we're in here shagging right now."
Hermione looked horrified. "Oh, Harry. You're probably right. She's probably downstairs right now telling my aunt and uncle, not to mention my parents, that you and I are upstairs doing naughty things to each other."
Harry laughed.
"This isn't funny!" she exclaimed. "You think I'm lying, but that's exactly something Rachel would do."
Harry stifled a chuckle as he came around the bed and knelt down in front of Hermione.
"They must not be that old-fashioned since they are allowing us to share a room," Harry pointed out. She shrugged.
"Tell you what?" he asked, an idea coming to him suddenly. "Why don't we jump up and down on the bed and make moaning and panting sounds. They'll be scandalized!"
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, managing a smile.
"What?" he asked. "Oh, you wanted to really have sex? I think I could accommodate you, Miss Granger. Granted, it is short notice and all, but I think I could--"
He didn't get the chance to finish his statement as Hermione hit him hard on the chest, causing him to fall back. If she hadn't been laughing before, she was now at the sight of The Boy Who Lived sprawled on the floor.
"You think it's funny, do you?" he asked, grabbing her arm and pulling her on top of him. He started to tickle her and they both rolled over on the floor, changing positions. Now, it was Harry who was on top of Hermione and she was laughing uncontrollably.
As he looked down at her smiling face, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he loved her. He stopped laughing as he stared down at her. He brought a hand to her face and brushed away a strand of hair from her forehead. His hand lingered on her face and he was about to bring his lips to hers again when a knock on the door stopped him.
"Sorry," he said, rolling off of her and getting quickly to his feet. He offered his hand to Hermione to help her up and she hesitated a moment before taking it. She smoothed her hair and clothes down and walked over to the door.
"Mum?" she asked when she opened the door. "What can we do for you?"
"Tell me the truth," Karen Granger said, coming into the bedroom.
"Okay," Hermione said, closing the door. "If I can…what is it you want to know?"
"I thought Harry was just accompanying you to the wedding," Karen said. "Rachel just came downstairs and told us you were…well, that you were…"
Hermione shot an "I-told-you so" look at Harry.
"We weren't," Hermione finished for her mother. "We weren't doing anything."
"You never told me that you and Harry were dating," Karen said quietly. "Is this why you and Brian broke up? Is this why you moved in with Harry?"
Lying to Rachel was one thing, but lying to her mother was quite another and Hermione didn't know how she was going to do this. If she told her mother this was all a ruse, Karen would tell her to go downstairs and clear it up and lecture her about not lying to her family.
"I wasn't the reason she broke things off with Brian," Harry said quickly, coming to Hermione's aid. "But we, um, sort of realized how we felt about each other when she moved in with me, Dr. Granger. It all sort of went forward from there. That's all."
For an awful moment, Hermione thought her mother was going to call them on their lie. Lying, rather big or small, had never been Hermione's strong suit.
"That's all," Karen repeated. "That's all, he says. Harry! This is fantastic!"
Before Hermione could stop her, Karen enveloped a surprised Harry in a hug.
"Robert and I have always known that it would one day be the two of you," Karen said happily, letting go of Harry. "To tell you the truth, Harry, I never liked that Brian chap one bit."
Hermione looked mortified at her mother. "Mum!"
Harry beamed back at Karen. This would be so much easier since he already had at least one of Hermione's parents in his corner.
"Well, I didn't," Karen said. "Oh, Hermione! I'm so happy for you!"
Karen held out a hand to Hermione who reluctantly took it only to be drawn into a sort of group hug with her mother and best friend. Hermione wondered at that moment if it was possible to die from embarrassment.
"I'll leave you two kids to get settled," Karen said a moment later. "I cannot wait to go and tell your father this news. Who knows…maybe in a few months, we'll all be gathering for another ceremony."
She winked at Harry and Hermione before leaving the room.
"Honestly, what is my mother like!" Hermione said, collapsing down on the bed. "There's a reason why I try never to lie, because things like this happen. It's like a snowball rolling down a mountain. It's going to be this massive avalanche before the weekend is over."
"Take it easy, Hermione," Harry said, coming back toward the bed. He patted her on the knee. "It's going to be okay."
"I wish I had your confidence," Hermione said glumly. "I've never been so embarrassed in my life. And we just got here, Harry. We have at least two more days of this misery."
"Hermione Jane Granger," Harry said sternly. He went over to the bed and grabbed her hand pulling her to her feet. "Come with me."
She reluctantly allowed him to drag her out onto the balcony.
"Look at that view," he said, motioning toward the ocean.
"It's beautiful," Hermione admitted, taking in the fresh sea air.
"Everything is going to be fine," he said soothingly to her. "Don't even think of this as being on a family obligation. Think of it as being on holiday with your best mate. I'm not going to let you mope or get down in the dumps."
"Okay," she said with a smile. "I honestly don't know what I would do without you. You've saved me twice today."
"Don't I know it," he said teasingly, walking back into the bedroom.
She followed a few minutes later and began unpacking her own suitcase.
"So that's Rachel," Harry finally said breaking the silence.
"Yeah," Hermione said, raising an eyebrow. She braced herself for the usual string of compliments that people used with Rachel. She could take it from others, but she didn't think she'd be able to stand here while Harry told her she wasn't that bad or that she was drop-dead gorgeous.
"You didn't do her justice," Harry said.
Hermione felt her heart sink.
"I didn't?" she asked weakly.
"No," Harry said. "She's a lot worse than you said."
Hermione looked up from her suitcase in surprise.
"But I think I've got her figured out," Harry said. "An old Auror trick of the trade, if you will. I've learned to size up people really quickly and I think I could give you Rachel's modus operandi in less than 200 words."
"Really?" Hermione asked, with an impressed grin. "Let's hear it then."
"Okay," Harry said simply. "I think Rachel's jealous of you."
"You've got to be kidding me! Why would she be jealous of me?'
He scratched his head and pretended to be deep in thought. "Let's see. You're taller than she is. You're way smarter than her. You have the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met. You're charming, you have a wonderful sense of humor and…" his voice trailed off and he crooked his finger at her, beckoning her to lean in closer to hear his final point.
She giggled as she leaned forward and he whispered in her ear, "And you have a gorgeous hunk of a boyfriend like me. Who wouldn't be jealous?"
Hermione threw a t-shirt at him. "You're such a goofball."
"Yes and this weekend, I'm your goofball," he said, winking at her.
**********************
For the first time she could remember, Hermione was actually enjoying herself at her aunt and uncle's beachfront home. This could all be attributed to her charming best friend, who'd not left her side all evening. Tonight, the family was having a dinner for Rachel and her fiancé, Theodore Langer. Theodore was a barrister and as Rachel had pointed out a number of times he was the youngest partner is his firm's history.
Hermione had nearly lost it when after she and Harry had been introduced to Theodore, or Theo, as he liked to be called. After they'd exchanged pleasantries with him, Harry had led Hermione away and asked if Rachel planned on keeping her last name when she married.
"No," Hermione had replied. "I reckon she'll take his. Rachel's not exactly a feminist."
"Do you realize what her name is going to be after she marries?" he asked, laughing.
"Rachel Granger Langer," Hermione said simply. As she said the name "Langer" she burst into giggles and a few of the partygoers shot her annoyed looks. But, Hermione didn't care.
She and Harry were both standing off to the side of the sitting room, nursing their drinks.
"Have I told you tonight how beautiful you look?" he asked.
"There's not an audience, Harry," she chided him. "You don't have to perform in front of me."
He looked hurt by her words. "I wasn't performing, Hermione. I meant it. You look beautiful tonight."
Hermione nervously touched her dress. It was a little black matte jersey dress with an open back and flutter sleeves that she'd purchased on a dare during a shopping trip with Ginny. She could still remember standing in the changing room in that dress and telling Ginny that she shouldn't purchase it because it wasn't practical. Ginny had told her to stop being so practical and buy it just because…just because she might need it someday. It wasn't her usual style, but it complimented her figure quite nicely. She'd even managed to tame her usually unruly hair by applying liberal amounts of Sleek-Easy hair potion. She'd styled it straight and curled the ends so it framed her face.
"Thank you," she said softly.
"She can accept a compliment," Harry teased.
She nudged him playfully. "You look rather nice yourself."
"Thanks," he said. Harry wasn't as dressed up as many of the other people in the room, but to Hermione he looked the most handsome. He wore a simple white button-down dress shirt and a pair of black trousers.
She was about to say something else to Harry when she spotted Rachel coming toward them. As usual Rachel looked immaculate. She was wearing a pleated mini halter top mini dress. No doubt it was made by some big-name designer, Hermione mused as Rachel walked slowly over to them.
"You two are being anti-social," Rachel said teasingly. Hermione noticed her attention was focused solely on Harry.
"No, we're not," Hermione said defensively.
"You've not mingled with any of the other guests," Rachel said pointedly to Hermione. "She's always been like this, Harry. When we were little and my parents would have parties, she'd always be off in the library reading instead of enjoying the party. You know what they say, all work and no play makes…"
"Rachel-" Hermione began.
"I assure you, Rachel," Harry interjected. "That Hermione gets enough 'play' time." To accentuate his point, Harry wrapped an arm lazily around Hermione and pulled her close.
Rachel gave a weak laugh. "I guess people change."
"Yeah and sometimes they stay the same," Hermione couldn't stop herself from saying.
Rachel's fixed smile stayed plastered on her face, but Hermione noticed it faltered a bit.
"So, what is it you do, Harry?" Rachel asked. "Hermione didn't tell me much about you."
Harry scratched the nape of his neck. "Don't blame Hermione for that. It's my fault. She didn't tell you much about me because I asked her not to."
Rachel stepped closer, obviously intrigued. "Really? So, what is it you do?"
Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "He just told you he couldn't tell you, didn't he?"
"Well, yes, but someday, we all might be family," Rachel said through clenched teeth. She turned her attention back to Harry. "So are you a spy or something? I know! You're a bit like James Bond, aren't you?"
Harry laughed. "Not quite."
"Well, you certainly are handsome enough to be like James Bond," Rachel said flirtatiously.
Hermione couldn't believe the nerve of Rachel. Here she was at her own pre-wedding party and she was openly flirting with another man when her fiancé was in the same room.
"Shouldn't you be getting back to Theo?" Hermione asked.
Rachel ignored her cousin. "We were all going to go out on the boat tomorrow. Would you like to go with us? We have room for one more," she said, smiling at Harry.
"You don't have room for two more?" Harry countered back.
"Oh, you thought I'd ask Hermione?" Rachel said with a peal of laughter. "Heavens no! I still remember how she got so seasick on Daddy's boat. Hermione, do you remember that? You turned four shades of green that day."
Harry forced a smile. "I'm actually not much for boats myself. And I really wanted to spend some alone time with Hermione. So, if it's all the same to you, Rachel, I think she and I will just spend the day together.
Rachel nodded, but disappointment shone all over her face.
"Right," she said, looking over her shoulder. "Well, I best be getting back to Theo. He's probably missing me right about now."
With that, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and sauntered away from them.
Hermione glanced at her best friend. This was the third time today he'd come through for her. Not knowing what else to do, she stood on her tiptoes and pecked him quickly on the cheek.
"What was that for?" he asked, surprised.
"For being you," she said with a mischievous smile.
The guests were leaving the sitting room and entering the dining room and Harry offered his arm to Hermione.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Ready," she said happily linking her arm through his.
******************
At around midnight, the party died down and Harry and Hermione excused themselves. Hermione was changing into her pyjamas in the bathroom and reflecting on what a perfect evening it had been.
If it was even possible, she was more enamored of Harry than she was before. She brushed her fingers again over her lips as she remembered his impromptu kiss form earlier that afternoon. It had been for show, but it had seemed so…real.
She quickly brushed her teeth and washed her face. She opened the bathroom door to find Harry sitting up in the bed, reading.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
He gave her a funny look. "Swimming?"
"You know what I mean!" she retorted. "What are you doing in the bed?"
"Hermione, did you drink too much champagne tonight? This is a book," he said, holding it up for her to see. "What I'm doing right now is reading it."
"Ha, ha, ha," Hermione said, setting her dress on a chair. "We're not going to sleep in the same bed."
"Why not?" he asked innocently. "It's not like we haven't done it before."
"Harry," Hermione said.
"Are you afraid that you won't be able to control yourself with me?" he asked her cheekily.
"Harry-"
"Hermione, seriously, there's no other place to sleep in this room other than that chair," he pointed out to her. "I don't fancy sleeping on the floor. Could you please let me sleep with you?"
"What?"
"Paranoid, aren't we?" he asked with a laugh. "Could you please let me sleep with you…in the same bed…without any funny stuff going on, I promise."
"Oh alright," she said, privately pleased at the idea.
"I knew you couldn't say no," he said triumphantly.
Hermione pulled back the duvet cover and slid inside the bed.
"You don't want to cuddle first?" he asked, as he closed his book and put it on the nightstand.
"No," Hermione said, stifling a laugh.
"Spoon?" he asked, turning off the lamp.
"No," Hermione answered, putting her face into the pillow so he wouldn't hear her giggling.
"Okay, you've had your chance," he said with a yawn. "I won't offer again."
"I know," she said.
"Don't wake me up in the middle of the night telling me you've changed your mind," he said.
"Okay."
"Good night, Hermione."
"Good night, Harry."