Title: Hermione's Stalker
Author: LilPrincess48
Disclaimer: Not mine. Sob.
Author's Note: Daniel. Radcliffe. Loves. Scarlett. Johanson. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Date Begun: June 22, 2004
Date Posted: June 22, 2004
Chapter 3: A Visit To The Burrow
With Damien pretty much incapacitated for the time being, a week later, Harry and Hermione decided to use this down time to drop in on Ron and catch up. Deciding to keep the couples façade up even then, just in case, the two quickly used the magic of Floo Powder to appear in the Weasley's fireplace.
Boy, did they get an eyeful.
"Argh! Ginny?! Malfoy?! What the bloody hell--"
"Oh calm down, Harry. Ginny, dear, please put your shirt back on."
"Malfoy. Pants. Eyes. Burn!"
"Harry? Hermione? Dammit, why don't you two travel like normal people?!"
"Enjoying the view, Granger? And, you, Potter, I wasn't aware that you were gay."
"MALFOY PUT YOUR BLOODY PANTS BACK ON!"
After, the excitement had calmed down, and Ginny and Draco were sufficiently dressed, Ginny brought a shaking and 'scarred' Harry and a very pale faced, but calm Hermione a cup of tea.
"So, how're you?" She asked as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, even though Draco Malfoy was still lounging in the chair across from Harry and Hermione with his hair messed up in a distinct make-out style.
"Er... Good. Here, Harry, drink some of this. It'll make you feel better." Hermione held her tea cup up to Harry's lips and he took a small sip, his eyes traveling around the room until they fell on Malfoy. Harry squeaked.
"Harry, did you just squeak?" Ginny asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry looked at her and squeaked again. Draco was busy doubled over in laughter.
"Does... Does Ron know about... About..." Another squeak.
"Of COURSE not. Do I LOOK mad to you?"
"Well, considering your choice in men..." Hermione inputted while giving the laughing Malfoy a disapproving look to which he politely replied 'Up yours' before collapsing in laughter again.
"Anyway, Ron is out practicing his Quidditch with Fred and George so he doesn't reek next season and Mum and Dad are out at Diagon Alley getting our schoolbooks in advance. Lower prices and all that."
"So you invited Malfoy over for a shagging session?" Asked Harry who had apparently found his voice. Ginny flushed.
"I can do it with whomever I want to!"
"And, in case you're wondering, Potter, she's VERY good in--" Draco's sentence was lost in laughter when Harry squeaked again.
"Honestly, Harry, sometimes I think you'll never grow up." Hermione said.
"Oh, I'm sorry if I don't have sex on my mind every thirty seconds."
"Are you saying that I DO?"
"You sure are acting like, Hermione."
"I was merely saying that shagging shouldn't revert you back to your field mouse state!"
"Yes, and I'm sure I should just accept the fact that my metaphorical little sister is shagging my long-time enemy. On the couch we're currently sitting on!"
"I'm surprised that you don't consider snogging as taboo as you look at shagging, Harry."
"Are you saying I'm not a good snog?"
"Of COURSE I am."
"I am not. Watch." Ginny and Draco watched in amusement as Harry seized Hermione by the shoulders and pulled her close, bringing his lips down on hers hard, his tongue tempting hers to come out and play. The two watched until the moaning and groping began, at which point Ginny took Draco's hand and whispered: "Your house?"
"My house." Draco confirmed as the two snuck off.
*
When Ronald Weasley comes home, there are not a lot of things he doesn't expect to see.
However, his two best friends having a passionate make-out session on his couch definitely fell under the Non-Expectation category. He cleared his throat, loudly, watching as the two flew apart and sat on opposite ends of the couch, staring at each other wide eyed.
"So, something you're not telling me?" They looked at him, then back at each other, then they both got off the couch, Hermione murmuring something about finding Ginny and disappearing through the kitchen door and Harry muttering something about not being a bad snog and shuffling his feet. Ron headed over, propping his broom up by the door. "Nice to see you, too, mate. Staying for dinner?"
"Er... Ron?"
"Mmhmm?"
"Hermione's got a stalker and I'm pretending to be her boyfriend to get him off her back." Harry said quickly and in one breath. Ron blinked, then laughed.
"Well, I'll tell you this much: You two are ruddy good actors."
*
By the time Harry and Hermione returned back to the Granger household, they'd barely said a word to each other since. It was dark in the house, signifying that Mr. and Mrs. Granger had gone out, leaving the two alone.
"Harry…" Hermione said tentatively. "About that kiss…"
"Well, I did prove that I wasn't a bad snog, right?" Harry refused to look at her. "And, besides, as you 'boyfriend', I'm supposed to kiss you and stuff."
"But we weren't-"
"I'm kinda tired, Mione. See you tomorrow?" And before she could open her mouth, he had disappeared up the stairs. Hermione sighed, putting two fingers to her lips and reliving the experience of having Harry's lips on hers, his hands all over, feeling his hot breath on her skin-
When her thoughts began to get X-rated, she decided it was time to go to bed as well. She flushed bright red, remembering that Ginny and Malfoy had been in the room when they'd started, minutely comforted by the fact that the youngest Weasley wouldn't tell - Horrified by the fact that Malfoy probably would.
How those two had gotten together, she would never, ever figure out.
Hermione slipped into her bed, her eyes fluttering closed and her final thought was, I wonder if I can get Harry to kiss me again.
*
Damien snuck into Hermione's bedroom, his anger flaring as he heard her whisper Potter's name in her sleep. What did that idiot have that he didn't? (A/N: My poor, poor hands hate me for writing this about Harry.) Why would Hermione choose that scar-headed orphan over him, Damien, who had been in love with her for years?
It made no sense.
His head still hurt from those punches and the doctors had said that his nose was broken, but nothing would stop Damien from his nightly visits to Hermione's bedroom. Even if he WAS supposed to be in the hospital right now.
He went through her drawers, pulling out another fresh pair of her knickers from her drawer. That made a total of fifteen he had so far. His goal was fifty. Damien put the pair into his back pocket and headed next door, glaring down at the boy who'd managed to capture the heart of HIS Hermione.
The idiot was sleeping fitfully, tossing and turning, muttering Hermione's name under his breath. What an obsessive loser. Damien spotted Potter's glasses on the side table and picked them up, taking a sick pleasure out of hearing the glass shatter in his hands before he tossed them back onto the table and glared down at the Potter boy again.
Hermione was his. His. Not Potter's. How dare he come alone and took what belong to him? Damien would make him pay dearly. As soon as he figured out what was most important to the boy, he would take it away.
Let's see how he liked it.
Grabbing a permanent marker, he scrawled 'Watch your back, Potter. I'll get you' on the wall, then leaped out the window and onto the street below.
*
Harry and Hermione were back in good spirits by the next morning, each quite unable to stay upset with the other for long. The awkwardness had faded and they were back to their usual selves, sitting in the backyard and blowing bubbles. Simple, but amusing.
Hermione was wearing a yellow sundress and matching hat, her hair in an unraveling braid under the hat. Harry was wearing khaki pants and a red t-shirt with the Gryffindor lion portrayed on the front. He had asked Hermione if they could conjure up some magical bubbles, but she had insisted on using the Muggle way and he didn't want to disagree.
Hermione sat down in Harry's lap, laughing as one of the bubbles popped after landing her nose, laughing even more when Harry joined in. He set down the bottle of bubble mix and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.
"Having fun, Mione?" He asked, resting his head on her shoulder. Hermione rested her head lightly against his and leaned back.
"Oh yes. Bubbles are very amusing. They pop!" Harry laughed. She was just so cute-!
"Yes, yes, they do, Mione. Bubbles do have a tendency to pop." She swatted his head playfully and stuck out her tongue, more at the yard than at him since he was behind her, but this just made her laugh all over again.
"Don't mock me, Harry James Potter."
"Don't make yourself so easily mocked, Hermione Jane Granger."
"You know what's funny?" Harry scooted back so his back was comfortably resting against a tree.
"Mmm?"
"Something Ginny told me once. Our initials. Apparently, Hermione Granger, or H.G., is code-name for… Harry's Girl." She felt Harry smile against the skin of her cheek and continued. "And, Harry Potter, or H.P., is…" She snickered. "Hermione's Poodle."
"Poodle?!?!"
Hermione could no longer hold it in and burst out laughing. "Poodle. Yes."
"Poodle?!?!?! You get Harry's Girl and what do I get? Hermione's Poodle?!?!"
"Just repeated what Ginny told me." Harry laughed and hugged her tighter.
"Well, I suppose if I'm yours then I don't mind being a… Poodle." He grinned as Hermione petted him on the head and said, "Good boy."
"Funny, Mione." He pouted as she broke out laughing. She eventually calmed down and leaned against him again, completely relaxed.
"Harry…"
"Mm?"
"Er… Never mind." Shrugging it off, Harry rested his head back against the tree and closed his eyes, feeling more comfortable and safe than he had in years.