A/N: Profuse apologies for taking so long to update. A combination of work, golf, and the holidays conspired against me and prevented me from getting to a computer. Anyways, here's the last part. Oh, and if you reviewed the last part, I may have left a reply just now, so check it out.
Enjoy!
The Benefits of a Bad Night's Sleep - Part II
The next day was even tougher than the last. Staying awake was harder, though I followed Hermione's example with a few cups of strong coffee, liberally laced with much sugar and milk and ice (I hate hot coffee). Throughout the day we never talked about what happened last night, but every time she gave me a small smile, or when our eyes met, I was sure she was telling me how much she enjoyed spending time together, just the two of us. That, or I had something on my face. Ron was fairly mystified by the whole 'sleepy' thing, but he seemed to believe our cover stories.
That night, I expected I would fall asleep the second my head hit the pillow. But I didn't. Maybe it was all the caffeine I had ingested throughout the day, for while my body ached for sleep, my mind just wouldn't shut off. I literally tossed and turned for an hour before I gave up. I briefly considered doing something productive - study or something - before my thoughts turned to Hermione. I wonder if she's awake as well? I had no doubt that she was exhausted as I was and was likely sleeping soundly in her bed at the moment, but still… What if she was downstairs right now? Surely it would be rude of me to leave her by herself? In fact, it was almost like I had an obligation to see if she was awake, right? My decision made, I crept out of the dorm room and made my way to the common room.
It was empty. I felt a profound sense of disappointment and sadness, far in excess of the usual. I thought about that. Why should it matter? It was only Hermione, after all. But I was still disappointed that she wasn't down here. I slowly walked down the rest of the stairs and sat on the couch in front of the fire, knowing that I wouldn't be able to go to sleep feeling the way I was right now. As I stared at the flickering flames, I began to wonder why I was so disappointed. Like I said, it was only Hermione, right? It's not like I won't see her tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. What should it matter? Why did I expect her to be here, and why does it make me so sad that she's not here?
"Harry, are you all right?"
I turned in surprise and saw Hermione walking down the stairs, a look of concern in her face. I was so happy seeing her that I couldn't stop myself from smiling like an idiot. Seeing me smile must've temporarily eased any of Hermione's concerns, and she smiled back.
"And what are you so happy about" she gently teased.
"Seeing you," I said without thinking, and we both blushed in tandem. "I mean," I said quickly, trying to recover, "it's nice to see you; I was feeling a little depressed just now." Which was true, after all; I was being honest.
Hermione's concerned look returned. "Did you have another bad dream?"
"Yes," I said immediately. Well, so much for honesty.
Hermione sat beside me. "Oh Harry," she said softly, giving me that look that I would hate from anyone else. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, not really."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure." Especially considering that I was lying through my teeth.
She gave me an intense stare, which was kinda freaking me out. "Harry," she finally said, "I really think you should talk about it. Keeping it all inside can't be good; maybe that's why you had another dream tonight."
Ah, poopie. Why can't we just sit and talk? "No, really, I'm fine," I said, trying to sound firm without being rude.
"Please, Harry," she said, giving me a soulful look and laying her hand across mine again. I promptly melted in a puddle of goo and knew that further resistance would be futile. My eyes frantically searched the room as I tried to think of a suitably traumatic plot for a bad dream.
"House elves!" I blurted before I could stop myself. House elves? HOUSE ELVES?? What the hell? Stupid, useless piece of mush I call a brain!
"House elves?" she asked, obviously not expected that response.
Great. Now what? I think it's safe to say that house elves wouldn't be my first choice had I had time to think it through. But my eyes had spied upon the window and the darkness outside, which reminded me of the time that I saw Fred and George's firecracker-dragon, which reminded me how cool it looked with the reflection in the lake, which made me think about the lake, which brought up memories of the time I went swimming in the lake for the Second Task, which reminded me that Dobby had given me the gillyweed so I could breathe underwater, which made me think of Dobby, and of house elves. Brilliant, right? It's not like somewhere along the line my train of thought could have stopped at 'second task.' That Tri-wizard tournament was full of good material for nightmares, but noooo, I had to ride the brain train all the way to Dobby and house elves. Stupid, useless piece of mush I call a brain!
"And what did the, er, house elves do in your dream?" Hermione asked, obviously torn between lingering concern and laughing out loud.
Okay brain, you failed me once; you have one more chance, don't let me down! "Umm, they were cleaning things."
Sigh. It's a wonder I can tie my shoes in the morning. Maybe that's why I don't bother with the laces and just slip them on.
"Cleaning things?" The 'laughing out loud' side was currently winning on Hermione's face. I had to act fast.
"Er, yeah. They were cleaning everything and it was driving me crazy… and… and… and it reminded me how the Dursleys treated me like a slave and made me clean everything." Eureka! See? It may take a while, but the ol' noggin comes through in the end. The Dursleys are always good for a few pity points, and the look of sympathy on Hermione's face was proof of that.
"Oh Harry, I'm sorry," she said, and I was rewarded with a hug.
"It was horrible, Hermione…absolutely horrible," I said bravely.
Her arms tightened around me, and she made soft, soothing sounds.
"They just wouldn't leave me alone…"
"It's okay, Harry. They can't hurt you anymore," she said gently. Obviously the feeling of Hermione pressed against me must've scrambled my brain, because the next words out of my mouth were: "I did everything I could Hermione…I even threw socks and hats at them, but they still wouldn't leave me alone."
After a second's hesitation, Hermione relaxed her hold on me and leaned back to look at my face. "What? Who wouldn't leave you alone?"
Uh-oh. Something was amiss… "Er, the House Elves?"
She furrowed her eyebrows. "I thought we were talking about the Dursleys?" she asked.
Oops. That's right, we were talking about the Dursleys. Think fast! "Um, yeah, that's right. You see…er…"
After a few seconds of silence, while my mouth opened and closed without emitting a sound, I would have settled for just plain thinking in general, much less thinking fast.
She squinted at me. "Did you really have a bad dream?" she asked skeptically.
When in doubt, tell a half-truth. "Of course I had a nightmare," I said, trying to appear indignant. It was the truth. I did have a bad dream - just not tonight.
But Hermione wasn't buying the load of crap I was trying to sell. "Just now? Did you have a bad dream tonight?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but then Hermione pulled her little Harry-lie-detector act again and bored her eyes into the back of my skull. "No," I said in a quiet voice. Damn those eyes of hers.
Hermione's eyes grew beady and her lips set themselves into a thin, firm line. I recognized this expression, and I knew fear. "Harry Potter," she said slowly, building up steam, "how dare you come down here and interrupt my studying with some lie about a nightmare! Why? What was the point? Did you just want to play a trick on me?"
"No, no!" I said frantically, waving my hands in protest. "It wasn't anything like that!"
"Mmm-hmmm," she said, clearly not believing me. "Well, I hope you had yourself a jolly good time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of studying to do."
"Wait, Hermione! It's not like that! Honest, I-" And then it occurred to me; something was a little off here. "Er, Hermione? Where are your books?"
Her expression flickered for a moment, so fast that I doubt anyone else besides her mother would have caught it. But after everything we've been through together, I noticed it. "Hm? What was that?" she asked casually.
"Your books. You know, those leather and paper things that you love so much? If you're studying, shouldn't there be a stack of books nearby?"
"Er, yes. They're still in my room; I just came down to make sure I wouldn't be bothering anyone down here." She said it so smoothly that one would have a hard time doubting her. But I had my own Hermione-lie-detector, and sirens and whistles were going off all over the place. I decided to be blunt, just as she was to me only a couple days ago.
"You're lying," I said simply.
"I am not!" she said huffily.
"Hermione." She turned her head and made one of those snooty "hmph" noises, tilting her chin upwards. "So, why did you really come downstairs?" I pursued.
She looked back at me and looked a bit anxious. Then, she turned the tables on me and asked, "Why did you come downstairs?"
I used the time-honored response: "I asked first."
"Ah, but you also lied first," she pointed out.
"Fair enough," I acknowledged. And I figured, why not; she was my best friend, after all, and we're both adults in the eyes of the wizarding world. "I guess I was hoping you'd be here."
"Really?" she asked, suddenly looking very interested.
"Really. I missed talking to my best friend."
"But we talk all the time, Harry. I see you every day and in almost every class."
I shook my head. "It's not the same. We hardly have any time to talk anymore. Ever since seventh year began, you've been so busy with Head Girl duties, classes, NEWTs, tutoring…you spend more time with other people than with me."
"Well, I do have a lot of responsibilities this year," she replied, sounding a bit defensive. "I've had to prioritize my life and spend my limited time wisely."
I sighed and nodded until I realized what she had just said, or rather, what was left unsaid. Did she mean that…? I decided to test the waters. "Yeah, you want to make sure you only spend time on the important things, right?"
"That's right," she said, looking relieved that I seemed to understand her. Oh, I understood her, all too well. Things that are important to her she spends time on; so, following her logic, if she doesn't spend time on something, namely me, that means it's not important.
I stood somewhat abruptly. "Oh, I see then," I said a bit coldly. "Well, since I'm obviously not important to you then, not worth spending your precious time on, I'll just go to bed now."
"Huh? What?" Hermione said a bewildered. Then she grabbed my wrist before I could move. "Harry," she said gently, "You know that you're important to me. We've been through so much together, faced so many things…you'll always be important to me, no matter what happens."
I looked into those worried eyes and felt my anger dissipating, but some part of me obstinately held on to the anger. And I knew it really wasn't anger that I was feeling, but fear. Fear that Hermione didn't care as much about me as I did for her. And I also knew why I was afraid - the Dursleys. It was their special brand of parenting that made me slightly (and by 'slightly' I mean 'extremely') insecure at times. But this was Hermione, for heaven's sake, not just some witch off the streets. I was being childish and throwing a hissy-fit. I took a deep breath to calm myself and nodded. Hermione's worried face broke into a warm smile, and I couldn't help but smile in return. She hugged me; I was starting to think I hit the hugging jackpot.
After she broke away, she shook her head gently. "Honestly Harry, how could you even think that you're not important to me?"
I looked down, suddenly feeling rather foolish. "I dunno…I…I guess was feeling a little ignored. I mean, you have so much going on now, I guess I feel a little left out."
Hermione frowned. "Well, Ron has been spending more time with Lavender recently. Do you feel left out with him also?"
I almost wanted to laugh. That was a completely different situation. "No, of course not," I scoffed.
"Why not?"
I shrugged. "It's just different. I mean, Ron's a guy."
"Oh really, I hadn't noticed," Hermione said dryly. "And what does that make me?"
"Well, you're a girl," I said. When she gave me a look, I hastened to add, "I mean, it's just different, what with you spending so much time with the prefects and tutoring and studying and other things…I guess I'm used to having you all to myself. I don't like sharing you with other people."
"What?"
I looked up. Hermione had an odd expression on her face. "What what?"
"What did you just say?"
"Er…" I replayed what I had just said to her, trying to figure out what had spooked her so. Let's see…feeling ignored…prefects…having you all to myself…
My eyes widened as I realized what I had said. "Oh no! It's not how it sounded."
"Really?" she asked. "And how did it sound?" She still had that strange expression on her face, one that even I couldn't read.
"Er, like I wanted you all to myself or something. But it's not like that at all."
"Then what is it like?" I wasn't used to not being able to read her emotions, and I felt unsure about what to say next.
"What I meant was…" and I tried to put into words what I was failing to say. It's not like I'm jealous when I see her with other people or anything. It's just natural to be feeling this way since we're best friends, right? But then she did point out that I don't feel the same about Ron. Sure, I sorta miss hanging around with him like we used to, but I understand things change; he's got Lavender now. I mean, yeah, he's my best friend, but if Ron went away and did his own thing and we lost contact, I'd be sad, of course, but I'm sure I'd survive.
But with Hermione…I guess some part of me rebels at the very thought that we'd stop being friends. She'd become a fixture in my life; the only thing that I could always count on when things were tough was Hermione's friendship. Twenty years down the road, I can still see us together, living in some quaint little village, raising our children together…
Whoa! Stop the Hogwarts Express - Dementors sighted!
Children?! Where did that come from? I mean, okay, someday I want a family to call my own, to have children in Weasley-like numbers, but I'd never really thought about with whom. When I dared dream of the future, it's always been some nameless, faceless witch by my side (but hot, I just know it). But then again, the kids always had an abnormal fondness for books and following rules…
"Harry? Are you all right?" I slowly turned my head to look at her. She chuckled. "If I knew that the question would cause you to think so hard, I would've waited until morning."
But I wasn't laughing. Something had just happened, like a switch being flipped in my brain. All of a sudden, Hermione wasn't just Hermione anymore. She still looked the same, but there was something very different about her now, and my brain was trying to process it all. Her hair was still as bushy and wild as before, but for some reason I wanted to run my fingers through it. Her eyes were still that same shade of brown, but now they seemed to captivate me, and I felt like I could easily become lost in them. And her lips…her lips had never before held any interest for me, but now…but now all I wanted to do was to devour them. When I didn't say anything, she cocked her head to the side. "Harry? What's wrong?"
Words have never been my strong suit; I was more of the 'actions speak louder than words' kind of guy. So, I spoke with my actions. Impulsively, without stopping to think of the ramifications (because surely if I had, I wouldn't have acted), I leaned forward and kissed her.
I felt her tense up in surprise. Just as I was thinking that I had made a horrible, horrible mistake, I felt her hands cup my face, and she actually kissed me back! Once I felt her lips move, all bets were off - I couldn't get enough of her, I couldn't be close enough to her. I had no idea where all this passion came from, but I was only aware of her lips and the elation I felt at her kissing me back.
Unfortunately, one of the things that I wasn't keeping track of was breathing, so eventually I had to end the kiss or risk passing out from lack of oxygen (I would have preferred to pass out rather than stop, but my body thought otherwise). I pulled away, gasping heavily, and was somewhat pleased to see her breathing hard as well. We looked at each other a moment; I figured this was the part where we talk about what happened, where Hermione analyzes and dissects every nuance about what just transpired. Where we spend the next few hours figuring out how this kiss affects our friendship, and what it meant for the future.
But, to my everlasting shock, Hermione launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and forcing me down to the couch. It didn't take me long to regain my senses and kiss her back, and this time I made sure to take a breath whenever possible.
Time held no meaning after that. All I knew was the feeling of Hermione's lips and her body pressing against me. Somewhere along the way, we had rolled off the couch and onto the floor with Hermione on top, somehow avoiding injury. Finally, though, Hermione pulled away from me and rested on her elbows. I pouted and tried to steal another kiss, but she averted her face.
"Harry, wait," she said, but she was smiling. "We have to talk about this." I knew it would come to this, the eventual talking. But I was hoping it could wait at least until morning, after we'd exhausted ourselves with the kissing. Hermione couldn't help but notice my sigh. "What? Is talking that bad?" she asked playfully.
I nodded. "It is, when the alternative is more kissing," I replied seriously, tilting my chin forward in a futile attempt to get back to it.
Hermione laughed, a delightful sound that I knew I would never tire of hearing. "Okay Harry. If I promise more kissing later, will you talk now?"
I pretended to consider the offer, but really, I'd go through Occulmency lessons with Snape again if it meant more kissing with Hermione. "I suppose. Anything specific you want to talk about?"
Hermione put on a face of mock thought. "Hmmm…there might be one or two things." And then she turned serious. "What just happened, Harry?"
"Well, I kissed you, and then you attacked me and-"
She rolled her eyes. "No, Harry. I mean why did what happened just happen? Why did you kiss me?"
While I knew she would ask this, I also knew that now was not the time to tell her I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her and raise a family together. My mind was far too muddled with equal parts exhaustion from lack of sleep and desire (well, maybe a tad more of the desire), so I had to be careful. I didn't want to scare her off with declarations of love; I had to take things slowly, find out how she felt about me and so forth.
"Well," I began slowly, "I was sitting here thinking about why I lied about having a bad dream when I suddenly realized how much I love you and need you in my life and-"
Waitaminute. Where was I going with this? What happened to taking it slow? My mouth snapped closed. Gah! Stoopid brain! I briefly wondered where I had left my wand and whether or not I could successfully cast an Obliviate spell.
Hermione was silent, but I could tell she had heard me and was processing my gaffe; in any other situation, I would have congratulated myself for rendering her speechless. Finally, she swallowed and asked, "You…you love me?"
I thought about denying it and trying to come up with an excuse, but I figured the Kneazle had already been let out of the bag, plus I had absolutely no faith in the ability of my brain to come up with an excuse, so I nodded. "Yeah. I do, Hermione. I love you." I reached up and caressed her face. "I'm not sure when it started, but I now know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. To raise the family I've always wanted with you."
All right, so this was probably the complete opposite of 'taking things slowly' and 'not scaring her away with declarations of love,' but I was too tired to play any games, too tired to be afraid, and I really wanted to get back to the kissing. Besides, as anyone who'd been born with a 'kill or be killed' destiny will tell you, life is too precious to waste being afraid. I looked at Hermione carefully, watching for the tell-tale signs of horror, revulsion, happiness, or consternation. What I got instead was kisses, a whole slew of them. In a flurry of activity, she was kissing my lips, my nose, my cheeks, my eyes, all the while mumbling incoherently, though I caught my name a few times. And though this was probably a good sign, it was beginning to tickle a little (as well as get a little sloppy), so I gently pushed at her shoulders until I could see her face. She had this odd dreamy expression, one that looked so out of place on her face that I was actually a bit worried.
"Hermione?" I asked.
"Oh Harry," she said breathlessly. "You don't know how hearing you say that makes me so happy."
I smiled, but while I was glad she was incomprehensively happy, that didn't necessarily mean she felt the same way, right? I was a bit afraid, er, I mean hesitant, to ask how she felt, so I had to come up with a subtle way of asking. "So, er…"
She gave me a tolerant smile and tapped me on the nose with her finger. "And yes, Harry Potter. I love you too."
I don't think I've ever had a bigger smile than the one that I sported now. The feeling of happiness surpassed even that when I found out I was a wizard for the first time, and that I was leaving the Dursleys. Back then, at that moment, Hogwarts became my home. Today, right now, Hermione became my home.
We hugged for a long time, basked in the glow of our love and all that, but it was time to move on to more important things. "Er, Hermione?" I asked, my voice partially muffled by all that hair.
She rose on her elbows too look at me. "Yes?"
"Can we get back to the kissing now? You promised, remember?"
She smiled. "Yes Harry, we can get back to the kissing." And we did just that. And suffice to say, I didn't have any more nightmares for a long while.
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