Unofficial Portkey Archive

Title: Messes
Author: Crystal, Faith, Stars, Whatever. :P
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is MINE, I tell you, MINE!! My masterfulness is behind it all! *cough* Well, all right, perhaps JKR had something to do with the creation...
Summary: She felt like she could fly, his hand clasping hers and his whole soul looking back into her, every worry of Arithmancy floating away and up, up, up into the gazing blue sky of the ceiling.
Dedication: To Nitya, because without her, this fic wouldn't exist!
Author's Note: In retrospect, the events of this fic- all are truly Seamus' fault. And I might write a D/G companion to this... Also, this is my first H/Hr fic... *blush* And I don't know how good it is, having no real prior experience... I hardly even read any H/Hr fanfic, so when you review.... be honest. And damn, this fic is fluffy.

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"Will you pass me the pumpkin juice, Harry?" A parched Hermione Granger asked, sighing into her seat for lunch.

"All right, Hermione?" Brilliant jade eyes shimmered with worry behind round glasses, unbalancing her, his hand outstretched, offering the jug.

"Thanks," she accepted with a wobbling smile, pouring her much-needed drink. "I'm fine, Harry," she answered, not really meaning it. The noisiness of the Great Hall was a mixture of clanking silverware and chatter, and it felt loud and disconcerting against fragile eardrums, throbbing into her head.

What a day, and she'd only been through the very beginning.

"Where's Ron?" she asked absentmindedly, piling mashed potatoes on her plate.

"Trelawney made him stay after. She said his aura was glowing or something," he answered, just as distracted. "Are you sure?" Harry repeated, a concerned hand reaching out to almost hesitantly cover hers, a slight tremor in his fingers, an uncertainty in his eyes.

Hermione's stomach gave a nasty sort of tug at the warmth of those draping digits, and she blinked once before her lips went dry and her tongue darted out to wet them.

"I- No," she began, terrified of moving a muscle under his, afraid he'd pull away, so very afraid. "I- I didn't do well on my Arithmancy test."

A teasing smile played on the corner of Harry's lips. "Did you get a question wrong?" he asked in a slightly babied voice, as though he were questioning an eight-year-old.

Hermione fought to keep a frown on her face, and sadly lost the battle. "No," she laughed, trying to keep some dignity in her voice. "I- There were five questions, and I got two of them wrong." This time, the downward place of her lips was genuine. "Which isn't good. I feel so incredibly stupid, Harry. The answers were so obvious-" She looked down at the heaping pile of chicken legs between them, an ashamed blush filling her skin.

"Hey," Harry stopped her softly, maneuvering his seeking fingers to hold hers gently, neck craning to catch her eyes. Green found brown, stealing Hermione's will to breathe, coercing her to forget the need to draw air into her lungs. "You're a genius, Hermione," he smiled. "They'll be other quizzes and tests to make that one grade up."

She sucked in oxygen, watching the way his smile curled just so, and found her own mouth pulling up, staring back into the comforting green abyss. "Thanks, Harry," she near-whispered, grin growing exceptionally and he bared one in her direction.

She felt like she could fly, his hand clasping hers and his whole soul looking back into her, every worry of Arithmancy floating away and up, up, up into the gazing blue sky of the ceiling.

"Well," a familiar drawl grounded Hermione back down to the hard, cold earth cruelly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that The Boy Who Refuses To Die has got himself a girlfriend."

Harry's hand left hers, taking away the heat of his touch, the gentle digits now turning white as they clutched the table, his tall figure raising, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. "Well, you don't know any better, Malfoy," Hermione almost imagined red flushing his cheeks fiercely, "so sod off."

Hermione twisted around to meet an icy glare, and a curling lip, blonde hair dangling above her. Draco Malfoy sneered in disgust, "what are you looking at, mu-"

"Torqueo lingua!"

A bright blue flash whipped past a curled, brown lock of hair, hitting Malfoy in the face, causing the Slytherin to widen his eyes in surprise, stumbling back into the table over, gracelessly. He winced, back hitting the wood, but it seemed as if that was the only damage the spell had done him- and Hermione looked forward, not to find Harry's wand pointed- but Ginevra Weasley's, Harry's only tightly in his hand.

"YelseaW, Tnaillirb," Draco said superiorly, causing Harry, Hermione, and the rest of the Hall to blink in confusion.

Alone, Ginny smiled, and Draco looked startled, long fingers reaching up to touch his lips. He gazed in wonder at the littlest Weasley before that same glare took hold of his grey eyes. "Uoy!" he said, pointing frantically at Ginny, who only smiled sweetly.

"Yes?"

"Em ot od uoy did tahw?" he demanded, hopelessly pointing his wand at her.

Ginny chuckled. "Malfoy, you can't curse me. You can't even talk properly."

Pink dots of frustration tinted his cheeks, and Hermione grinned at Harry, giggling into her hand as the Hall buzzed with sudden laughter.

Draco looked livid, lips pursed and fists clenched, the spots on his cheeks deepening to magenta, eyes darting around the laughing faces. He opened his mouth, and closed it, deciding better of it when Ginny tipped her head back in tinkling giggles.

And then, unexpectedly, his hand shot out, causing Hermione jump away in unnecessary fear.

For Draco's eyes were still on Ginny, and his hand was, of all places- in the mashed potatoes.

Hermione vaguely saw Ginny's mouth open in a small 'o' before-

SPLAT.

The chortles and guffaws stopped, leaving amazed quiet except for the tumbling white food that slid off of Ginny's freckle nose and onto the floor. Four fingers reached up slowly, sweeping away the collection of lunch over eyelids, uncovering the color of melting chocolate.

Hermione watched Harry's stunned face and blinking green eyes, expression matching the surprised look on Ginny's.

A small, pink tongue captured a bit on rosy lips, eyes unwaveringly on the blonde man who was sneering in mute satisfaction and wiping off his hand.

He never saw the pumpkin juice coming until it was soaked into the locks of his hair, matting them down stickily. Ginny smiled, chest heaving with quiet laughs, and Draco could only just look at her, gaping. Not being able to help it, Hermione chuckled again, catching emerald orbs that glittered with amusement.

But Draco Malfoy wasn't amused, and his jaw clenched hard, trapping his useless tongue before he seemed to snap, hands groping, diving into the plates on the Gryffindor table and hurtling everything from chicken legs to corn muffins at Ginny.

She squeaked, recovering after chicken bopped her vigorously on the head, and copied Draco, laughing and ducking with zeal.

A stunned moment passed, the Hall blinking in confoundment before-

A chair flopped over with a bang, and Seamus Finnigan smiled hugely, "FOOD FIGHT!"

Chaos followed, lunch flying across the Hall in sharp arches and the floor forming as a makeshift net. Hermione squealed uncharacteristically as something wet and slimy hit the back of her neck, and she twisted around angrily, "HEY! EVERYONE STOP IT!" Parvati Patil aimed and fired, roast beef rocketing past the Prefect's ear and hitting a Ravenclaw behind her. "No!" she yelled, and knowing hope was lost, ended with a muttered "stop..."

"Hermione!" she heard Harry yell seconds before fingers clasped her wrist and pulled, tugging her down and under the table, arms encircling her sides and butt landing on two, folded legs. She landed with an 'umpf,' hands clutching the fabric of her best friend's robes.

A splatter of gravy just missed her toes and she pulled them into the shadows of her shelter immediately.

Harry snickered with good-nature, his deep voice grating throatily, and he looked outside, into the madness. "Absolutely nutters," he grinned, turning to the small thing in his arms.

"Harry," she scolded, trying to ignore how if she leaned in just the right way their lips would touch, and how the angle of her curves fit perfectly against his chest... "we have to stop this- imagine the mess- the professors-" she stuttered, more worried about how soft his lips would feel...

Said lips softened into a half-smile, and the sounds of yelling and food hitting the wood above them faded into an unimportant background. Hermione swallowed, parting her lips to accept air, wanting to accept much more.

A tongue swept across his lips, green eyes darkening. "I- um, we..." he struggled, and then gave up to a pointless fight. He gulped. "We didn't start it," he said hoarsely, distracted.

"Yes," she murmured, watching his eyes, half-closed, looking down on her. "And we didn't encourage it- I- I- tried to stop it-"

Was it just her imagination, or was Harry craning his neck, pushing aside the air she could hardly find the will to care for, in that moment?

"You did," he continued, licking his lips again, eyes moving slowly across the slopes of her face. "We- we didn't even- th- throw..." Hermione gasped softly as his hand, torturously slow move the cup her neck, stiffening her limbs slightly before relaxing into his touch willfully... "...anything..." he whispered, his face so close, so very close to hers that the air she breathed, he breathed...

Hermione wrapped her fingers tighter, griping his shoulders as if he was the only link to the world she had, and her eyelids closed, and she bent her neck just so, waiting, waiting...

"Yes..." She nodded, brushing her nose against his in an innocent butterfly kiss, "we can't get in any trouble..." she agreed wistfully.

Harry's lips breathed in the small space between them, lips softly, finally, finally, finding hers.

Bliss tickled her belly, fingers threaded through her hair and she wasn't just flying as before- she was soaring.

She sighed into his embrace, eagerly chasing his touches and soft kisses, her heart exploding with the realization- she was kissing Harry. Harry, who was kissing her back. She wanted to die, right there, because she knew she'd never be happier any where else, and agonizingly, she gave into the need for air, pulling away, feeling hot, moist breaths colliding with her lips.

"We should get out of here," he murmured, but Hermione wasn't even sure if she could move. "Before the professors come..." His lips feathered over hers once before pulling away, and Hermione grudgingly opened her eyes to meet Harry's.

She nodded. "Yes..." He took a deep, rattling breath. "Let's go."

The sounds of the rioting Hall clashed into her ears like an unwelcome wake up call, and she peered out from under the table, a soft smile coating her kissed lips.

Harry grinned. "We'll have to make a run for it." Hermione wiggled off Harry's lap, staying on her knees and bit her lip from smiling too widely, Harry's hand resting between her shoulder blades and voice next to her ear. "One..."

Hermione suppressed a chuckle.

"Two..."

Bits of pumpkin pie hit the floor in front of them.

"Three!"

They ran, food slamming into their cloaks and arms covering their faces, before Hermione crashed through the humongous doors, their own laughter the only noise, doors closing and muffling the chaos inside.

Hermione laughed, spreading her arms, and looking own at her cloak, plastered with pumpkin juice and gravy, Harry's almost identical. Seconds later, the need to laugh at their dismal appearance faded, leaving two to stand in silence, exchanging small smiles and meaningful glances.

"Well..." Hermione started, and Harry blushed.

A still moment passed, and Harry held out a hand. "Before the professors..." his blushed spread own his neck, "you know..."

"Right," Hermione breathed, and she took his hand.

--end--