Unofficial Portkey Archive

Seven Minutes in Heaven

This is the story of how Hermione Granger and I got together or,… the story of how I almost murdered Ron Weasley. It all depends on your perspective.

Let me just start by saying, he's still my best friend.

Sure, he can be irritating as hell. Also, it's a complete mind boggler how one can be so completely devoid of tact, as there are things he says and does that get him slapped and/or punched on a regular basis. And let's not forget how when it comes to human emotion more often than not he draws a complete blank, (not that I could forget it, god help me).

It really does seem at times as if Ron lives on a different plane of reality.

On the night Hermione and I finally got together, I'm pretty sure he had mentally transported to a completely different planet.

It was a Saturday night, and we were in the Gryffindor common room surrounded by the rest of our house mates. The girls and guys had sectioned off and migrated to different sides of the room as was the usual way. Each side was equally as loud and obnoxious. The guys side sounded with shouts of dares, ribbing, wrestling, boasting and occasional belching, and the girls side with laughter, whispers of gossip, secrets of makeup and clothes, and the occasional flirtatious call to our side.

Ron and I were off in our own world playing chess.

In other words, it was a typical weekend.

To both mine and Ron's complete surprise however, Hermione had decided to join in with the girls that night on what she normally called, and I quote, their 'silly vacuous ramblings'.

She was standing to one side talking with Parvarti Patil. It was quite obvious (to me, anyway) that they were having a serious conversation. Every time Hermione paused for a breath, Parvarti closed her eyes and nodded in understanding; her meaning and complete grasp of the situation made clear with loads of hand gestures and expressions of wisdom. At the time, it had been odd to me how each time some other girl approached, Hermione had burst out giggling and made as if the conversation was something light. (Later I would find out quite abruptly what had made Hermione act so un-Hermione like.)

And right here, I have to put in that as usual, every bit of this escaped Ron's attention.

Maybe it was that different mental plane I mentioned. (I still think it was, sometimes.) Or maybe, just possibly… it could be that I was, am, and probably had been for some time before… MADLY, ARSE OVER HEELS IN LOVE with Hermione Granger.

Hermione Granger, my best friend along with Ron. And although I can say I love Ron, the way I feel for Hermione is on a different end of the spectrum. This particular best friend is extremely pretty although she doesn't know it. She has long corkscrew curls the colour of dark honey, long-lashed doe eyes, full pink lips with a hint of olive skin at the edges, and god help me, a body I've had dreams about doing (ahem)…naughty things… to.

It used to be every time Hermione plagued us to do our homework, I wanted to find some way to distract her so Ron and I could escape (out the window if we had to).

Now I find myself actually wanting to do homework with her to see how close I can sit for hours at a time without her noticing.

Before, when Hermione would spout off in her 'goodness, look how lost you two are without me' tone about how something really was, I wanted to give her a good hex.

Now I find myself watching her lips as she tells us off, and daydreaming about shoving Ron down a flight of stairs so he won't see me force her into a broom closet and snog her senseless.

Hermione Granger, my best friend, the smart, exasperating as hell, no nonsense, always play by the rules, know-it-all, study 'till you die, bookworm.

And to my complete dismay, the bookworm of my dreams.

I really had been thinking all of that, as right at that moment, Ron had chucked a rook at my head to get my attention.

The sod.

I'll never understand why I keep playing chess with him. I'd just got through once again having the hell beaten from me at the stupid game. Ron had just spewed butterbeer all over the board from laughing at my final pathetic move, (which I'd been totally unfocussed on) and had chucked a game piece at me to get me concentrated back on the board so I might be as thoroughly embarrassed at losing as possible.

He's a terrific mate.

Anyway, because he always beats me so thoroughly at chess, immediately afterward I usually challenge him to a game of Hell or Hex as he sucks so bad at it and always loses, and afterward I can feel smart again. (It's a guy thing to immediately try bettering someone on something after they've just bettered you. It gives our ego a boost, on top of making us feel less small in front of a load of girls who might've been watching.)

Anyway, Ron had accepted my challenge as usual. I'm sure I had a mad grin on my face as I reached for my wand, though I never got to make my move.

That was the instant Seamus Finnegan had picked to yell above the din to everyone we should play Seven Minutes in Heaven.

The girls squealed. The guys ribbed each other and guffawed aloud; words like 'snogfest' and 'nick-her-knickers' coming over clearly amongst the rest.

Oh bloody hell…SHIT.

As I looked over at Hermione, I saw she had gone pale.

Later, I would come to realise that particular night, my world had been taken apart and repaired all in that short span of time.

Ron was grinning. More importantly, and more to the point, he was grinning… at me. NEVER a good sign.

I widened my eyes at him. "Ron, if you love life you won't…"

"We're in!" He yelled out enthusiastically, springing up from the couch and yanking me with him.

I wanted to kill him. I really, openly, honestly, whole-heartedly did.

"Brilliant!" said Seamus whole-heartedly.

Oh my dear god…

The huge group as a whole moved toward the middle of the room. Ron yanked me with him, and I felt as if I was being led to the gallows. At that time I really didn't have a lot of experience at kissing, much less full out snogging. What was worse, I KNEW any chance I might eventually have with Hermione would be shot to hell once she saw me coming out all dishevelled from some closet with another witch.

I looked at Ron, and he gave me a grin that showed he knew what he was doing to me. He knows I hate games like this.

Ron secretly hates me. I've suspected it for a while now.

It's either that or I have to think he really might have a snitch-sized brain…

"Ooh how do you play seven minutes in heaven?" I distinctly remember Lavender Brown cooing into Ron's ear.

"You'll see," he had replied, taking special care to lower his voice a few octaves so as to appear sexy.

He turned to me, winked cheekily, and gave me the thumbs up sign.

I wanted to take that thumb, transfigure it into a tree branch, and shove it up his arse.

"Everyone'll draw names," Dean had said, seeming more excited than he did even after a Gryffindor Quidditch victory. "Whoever you pick, (sorry Neville it has to be the opposite sex)…"

Neville had blushed crimson. He was always getting the mickey taken from him for being a careful dresser. He's not gay, though… I know because last week I'd caught him thoroughly examining some Hufflepuff's tonsils behind the Ravenclaw Quidditch stands.

"…will spend seven minutes in the common room closet with you. What you do with that time is up to you," Dean had finished with a god-awful leer.

I don't suppose I've mentioned I hate Dean Thomas too… Well… I did, anyway.

Parvarti Patil had given another high-pitched squeal and had leaned over to talk to Hermione in what she obviously thought was a whisper. I think she'd had too much butterbeer.

"I hope I get Potter. Every time he comes in from Quidditch practice all sweaty and dirty… I just want to rip the clothes right off him!"

I know my mouth dropped open. I think every girl standing near her had heard as they all looked over at me and smirked. I know Ron heard because he guffawed aloud and clapped me on the back so hard I nearly flipped over the couch. Hermione looked faint. It was then she tried her first escape but Parvarti grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

"Oh no you don't Miss Priss. You're always hiding behind those books. Time for you to experience a bit of life."

I'm pretty sure even I had wanted to tie Parvarti's lips into a knot at that point.

There was nothing for it. We were both stuck.

As everyone clamoured and pressed round us to draw from the hat Dean had chucked all the names into; I realised with a start I was pressed almost fully against Hermione in the throng. She was blushing and trying to make space for herself, but as hands reached over and around to grab from the hat, she had no where to go.

Every bit of her body was pressed against me. Gods, I remember feeling as if I was about to spontaneously combust, and it had NOTHING to do with being near a roaring fireplace.

She had moved away as soon as she was able and hadn't even looked at me. It left me with a feeling of disappointment. It was obvious she didn't think about me the same way I thought about her. The last thing on my mind at that point was getting away from her. I'd rather wanted to be so close that I was… well... Never mind.

Moving on...

The first to choose from the hat was Seamus. He'd pulled Katie Bell's name and, before she had time to react, had rushed over to her, grabbed her by the hand, yanked her into the closet and slammed the door behind them.

Of course no one was surprised as Seamus is always up for a good snog.

The rest of the Gryffindors waited. At first everything was silent. The girls whispered and giggled to each other. The guys as usual, myself included, all began to rib each other and tell lies about hearing heavy breathing and thumping. Scuffling noises about five minutes into it only further increased everyone's suspicions.

"They're really getting into it!" Andrew Kirke had guffawed. It won him a punch in the side from Ginny Weasley.

Two minutes later though, and we found out the scuffling noises had just been Katie punching Seamus in the nose for snaking his hand up her jumper.

Seamus went to the infirmary, Katie sat down, huffing, and it was Neville's turn.

He'd begun sweating the moment Dean had suggested the game. His hands shook as he pulled out the name and read it off.

Ginny Weasley.

Ron scowled but held his seat.

It was Ginny who took Neville's hand and led him to the closet.

Seven minutes later and they came out looking a bit more rumpled than they had going in.

The cheers were deafening. Neville was shaken and pounded on the back so hard I heard him gag from trying not to vomit. As he plopped down in a chair he blushed so hard he almost turned purple.

(Hermione told me later Ginny had decided to give Neville a mercy-snog, but found out in those seven minutes he was actually good at it and really really didn't mind it so much.)

Moving on again…

A few others went, and mercifully, neither Hermione nor I had been picked…yet.

Ron and Lavender were finally yanked out of the closet after eight minutes. Somehow they'd managed to mix up their jumpers.

Finally it was my turn. I saw Parvarti squirm in excitement as she hadn't been picked yet. Hermione had gone stiff. I was shaking, though I don't think anyone noticed. I heard the guys cheering me on, though all I could hear was my heart pounding in my throat.

Oh shit… ohshitohshitohshit…

ok…keep cool… it's fine. Seven minutes, right? And we don't even have to do anything… it'll be fine. Hermione knows me. She won't think I did anything… will she? What if she does? What if any chance I have with her is ruined once she sees me come out from that closet with another girl?

Oh shit…ohshitohshitohshit…

"C'mon Potter, hurry up! I want a go!" I'd heard Colin Creevey yell out.

Someday I really am going to turn that kid into a newt.

I handed the piece of parchment to Dean to read, as at that particular moment my fingers had gone completely numb, and I'd felt like chucking up my butterbeer.

"Hermione Granger."

Of course it's what I heard… I WANT it to be her, right? She's going to hate you, Potter. Any chance you had with her is over. Go ahead and give whoever it is a good snog. It doesn't matter anymore. You're ruined anyway…

"Harry!" I finally heard Dean yell.

Everyone was staring from me to Hermione. Parvarti looked disappointed. Hermione had gone completely white. Ron looked nervous.

I looked at Dean as if I hadn't heard what he'd said. Fact was, I hadn't. At all.

Dean gaped at me like I was retarded. "It's Hermione Granger, Potter. I know you're only friends but don't be a chickenshit…Go on!"

Oh my god… What the bloody hell… OhmyGOD!

Hermione was standing. She was shaking. She was walking toward me. Ron was staring.

I know I stood there with my limp arms hanging stupidly at my sides like the biggest bloody clot on the planet.

She took my hand.

Bloody Merlin, her hand is as cold and clammy as my own…

Somehow we made it to the closet though I'm not exactly sure how, walked in, and closed the door.

Silence.

Had it been this quiet for the others? I was sure it hadn't been.

I was more nervous than I'd ever been before in my life. I could actually hear my heart beating outside of myself.

I could hear Hermione breathing. Even her breathing shook.

If it hadn't been obvious before, it was now abundantly clear being stuck in a dark closet with me was the last thing on her 'things to do before I die' list.

"Harry?"

It was the first time I'd heard her voice all night long. When I answered her, my own bloody voice cracked.

I wanted to kill myself.

"Yeah?"

Damn it. Dear god I sound like a moron…

"I'm…I'm sorry it w..was me."

I paused.

She hadn't wanted to be in here with me. I knew it.

"I know you are," I said quietly. "I'm sorry you couldn't have got someone else."

It was her turn to pause, and somehow, I sensed confusion.

"No," Hermione said quickly. "No, I meant… I meant I'm sorry you didn't get someone else."

Now it was my turn to be confused. I do confusion well.

"What?"

I reached for her hand but in the darkness somehow managed to grab her side. Her side would do.

"Why would you say that?"

Her breaths were shuddering again. For some unknown reason I felt like murdering myself for somehow making her think that way. If she only knew…

"I..I mean, I know how you see me," Hermione had begun, and I could hear a bit of the old Hermione logic beginning to seep back in. "I know how we see each other, I mean!"

She had added the last part a bit too quickly, and a thrill of suspicion began to tingle in my chest.

I felt a bit bolder and pulled her closer, doing my best not to fall over as at the moment I felt rather like I usually do after Quidditch when I haven't drunk enough Wizard-Ade.

"How do we see each other?" I had asked her.

I don't remember grabbing the other side of her waist. All I remember is that suddenly, I was steadying her. I was steadying myself as well to be truthful.

"W..well we're friends, aren't we? Iknowyouaren'tattractedtome…We l..like each other m..much like brother and sister, right?"

She was stuttering. Gods, I found that sexy.

That middle part was said so quick I think she thought I didn't hear it.

I did.

"You're my friend," I remember saying. "But I certainly don't see you as my sister, Hermione."

She stiffened.

"You don't?"

How could she sound so incredulous?

I felt her arms come up round my shoulders.

Great Merlin, is this really happening? I have to be dreaming. That's it. It's so dark round us because my eyes are closed. I'm in my bed upstairs in the dorms. Any moment I know I'll hear a great snore from Ron and bolt awake from one of the best Hermione-dreams I've had in a while…

"No. I've never seen you that way. And I do think you're attractive. God's what wizard in their right mind wouldn't?"

She moved closer, and I felt every part of my body suddenly hum into life. Every one of my senses was hyper-aware, fully functional, and ready to go.

I felt her body tense so tightly I thought she might suddenly come flying apart. From what she said next, I understood why.

"I'm not interested in any other wizard's right mind, Harry. I'm only interested in yours... as well as some other parts."

I'm sure if my eyes had opened any wider they might have popped right out from my head, hit the inside of my lenses and rolled down beneath my jumper.

Good Godric I'm going mental… I honestly think I just heard Hermione come onto me. But that's just laughable. Hermione Granger, come on to me? Downright hysterical…

And then I felt her breasts press up against my lower chest. Her breath was on my lips. Her knees were touching mine. Her thighs were pressed onto my own.. Her hips…(oh my good god) were pressed into mine…

And I hardened so fast I think I probably scared her.

"Harry?"

I swallowed. "It's my wand."

I felt her mouth against my own.

"I like you, too."

I think my heart exploded.

What happened next though, would prove to be the biggest mind-blowing, heart-pounding, sensational, world-changing, EROTIC event in my life thus far.

It wasn't like we just began kissing. It was more like some power beyond even Voldemort's made us crush together so hard and fast it felt as if we were magically shoved. My whole stomach began swooping up and down, up and down like some Muggle rollercoaster...

We were writhing together. My tongue was in her mouth and I felt hers slide along mine and…oh my god… It was as if I still couldn't taste her enough. Her hands had come up under my jumper and were smoothing over my chest and stomach and it was driving me so mental I could barely form enough coherent thought to wonder to myself how the skin on her back could be so soft. One of my hands moved down to smooth over and up one of her thighs, and I continued upward, taking her skirt with me.

She grabbed my arse.

HERMIONE GRANGER JUST GRABBED MY ARSE. I think I just stopped breathing.

She hooked one leg around me and pulled me so close there must've been no doubt in her mind what she was feeling was most certainly NOT a wand…

She was grinding her hips into mind, and oh bloody fricking hell if she didn't stop I was going to…

We fell on the floor. I don't know whether it was her or me that tripped. I only know that for one brief moment I could think straight enough to know we had just made a terribly loud thumping noise, and what must everyone think?

Hermione tore her lips from mine. She was laying on top of me, and I realised both of our jumpers were missing and lying in a heap beside us. My jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped. Merlin when had she done that!?

Her breasts were covered with the just the sheerest of bra material and pressed against my chest so fully I could feel her hard nipples rubbing against me. While the fingers of one of my hands were on the back clasp of her bra, the fingers of the other were currently twisted in the cotton knickers over her arse, and by the sun and moon and stars I didn't want to stop unless some major catastrophe was happening just outside these doors.

Even then I might have to give it a long think.

"What, what…" I breathed out.

"Harry, we just made a terribly loud thumping noise. What must everyone think?"

We really were made for each other. But sod it.

"I don't give a damn what anyone else thinks, 'Mione."

And to my immense surprise, she agreed with me.

"Sod them."

I smiled at her in the dark. "Sod them."

I won't go into further detail about what else went on, because suffice it to say, some of you might blush hard enough to light up a Muggle city. I will say though, that Hermione turned round and put a locking charm on the door that lasted for about forty minutes past our allotted seven.

When we finally came out everyone was still there and gaping at us, and by Merlin, I couldn't blame them, because we must've looked a sight.

So in the end, I decided not to kill Ron.

In fact, I hope he grows up wealthy, happy and married with a dozen children, God bless him.

I know I will.

The End. :0)