Rapture

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Author's Note: This story began as a 1000-word response to the Summer Writing Series Challenge on June 15 (then titled Forever), and then I massively expanded it (nearly 3000 more words!) for the HP/HG Fic-A-Thon. Originally it was solely Hermione’s POV, but I really wanted to see what Harry was thinking at the same time, so I added on the second part, which is his POV, and the happy little epilogue. My first time doing all narrative, and for no particular reason. It is complete at this point, with no plans for a follow-up...too many other bunnies in my head, hehe.

Hope you like it!
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Hermione closed the front door with a soft click and locked it. Her face was flushed, her palms were moist, and her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. She leaned against the door, trying to pull herself together. She was being silly…absolutely silly. She was too old to be acting like this.

Unable to resist temptation, she turned around and peeked out the tiny hole. She chided herself for doing so, but she just had to check. Finally satisfied that no one was there, she leaned back against the door and released a huge breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding. Slowly, she raised a hand and touched her lips lightly with trembling fingertips. A small smile crept across her face, like the sun peeking over the horizon at dawn.

Without even realizing it, she slid down to the floor, her hand still at her mouth. Her lips were tingling. It was the strangest sensation. They felt puffy and swollen, and she was almost sure she could feel them pulsing. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her smile grew, and her heart started beating even faster. She wanted to remember this night for the rest of her life.

It had taken him forever to confess. Forever! Three years, one month, eight days, twenty-two hours and some-odd minutes to be exact. In the meantime, she’d completely given up hope of ever being more than a friend to him. She was actually considering accepting a date from a friend of Ginny when Harry broke down and laid his heart out on the table.

It turned out that he had been harboring feelings for her since fifth year, since the night they lost Sirius. He thought he’d lost her as well. It took that moment, seeing her motionless and unresponsive, for him to realize he’d already loved her for some time. Unfortunately it took him another three years to actually tell her how he felt.

She could have killed him for waiting so long. She’d felt the same way about him even longer than she wanted to admit, and if he’d only told her sooner…well, there was no use in “iffing” about it now. The important thing was that their feelings were out in the open now, and they’d decided to give it a chance, to see if they could take their relationship beyond friendship.

The night he confessed was surreal to her, like a dream. He seemed so serious when he showed up at her door and said he needed to talk to her. She was terribly afraid something was wrong. He was so solemn, so nervous, and completely drenched with rain, but clearly focused on one thing and one thing alone; he had to tell her something. They sat at her dining table, and her heart raced, fearing the worst. So when he finally collected himself enough to start talking, her mouth fell open and her head began to buzz. The wave of relief that washed over her was quickly replaced with something else; a twisted, knotty feeling in her stomach. He had just told her that he was in love with her. Harry Potter…was in love with her? She was in shock.

It only took a second for the tears to start. She didn’t even know why. They were just coming, without her control. She knew he was thinking he’d upset her, and he began apologizing. But when she’d calmed enough to tell her side of the story, his relief was obvious.

It was awkward to begin with, those first few moments when feelings were finally revealed and floating like delicate soap bubbles in the space between them. They laughed about it, the awkwardness, and then slowly began talking as their old comfort level came back.

They reminisced for a long time, confessing the moments when they first knew they loved the other, and all the little things that had brought those feelings into existence. When he at last got around to asking her out for their first date, she felt like a schoolgirl again. She accepted graciously with a smile and gently squeezed his hand, which she’d been holding. As soon as he left she took a deep breath, then promptly began bouncing all around her flat, squealing and waving her arms.

When the night of their first date finally arrived, she tried her best to maintain some composure. After hours in front of the wardrobe trying on everything she owned, she decided on a swishy little summer dress and a pair of strappy sandals with heels. Even though they had been best friends for more than seven years, she was still a bundle of nerves. She couldn’t believe they were going on a date, a real date, which meant the whole night had the looming presence of expectations: Would he expect her to look beautiful tonight? Would he expect her to be charming and witty? Would he expect the infamous good-night kiss? Making herself even more nervous with these thoughts, she fidgeted and fumbled her time away until she finally heard the knock at her door.

Harry arrived right on time, and he somehow looked even more handsome than usual…oh, who was she kidding? He looked hot! They’d decided to go out for dinner, and walked to a cozy little restaurant nearby. He offered his arm, and she happily took it, hoping that her modest heels wouldn’t make her stumble along the way and jerk his arm out of socket. The host sat them at an intimate table near the back, where they quickly settled in and ordered. The food was good, the restaurant was nice, and the company was even nicer.

In ways it was no different than any other dinner together, but at the same time it was completely different. She started noticing the little things; things she now realized had always happened, but she’d just brushed them off as friendliness…like Harry wiping a dab of sauce off her cheek, or laughing sincerely at her sometimes feeble jokes. There was a new energy in the air, a soundless pulse that resonated each time their eyes met for a little too long, or when his gaze lingered on her lips even after she finished speaking.

They sat there for hours, just talking, with an unspoken attempt to bring their bond to an unfamiliar and exciting new level. It was strange to her. This wasn’t like an ordinary date when you get to know someone; they’d established all that ages ago. Yet when they talked a little more intimately than usual, about childhood memories and dreams, secret desires and aspirations, she found there were actually plenty of things she didn’t know about Harry.

They talked for hours, not even noticing the encompassing darkness and the emptying streets. When it became so late that everything was closing down, they decided to end the evening and he walked her home. They strolled casually, talking, holding hands this time, enjoying the warm summer night. There was a kind of magic dancing in the air that had nothing to do with wands or potions.

Ten paces before they reached her door, she suddenly felt the tension. She’d been enjoying herself so much, she’d forgotten about the end of the date. Would he? If not, should she? Her heart raced. Her knees felt weak. She wanted it, but did he?

They stood awkwardly for a moment; she chewed on her lip nervously while he ran an unsteady hand through his hair. With a shared glance and mutual amusement at their nervousness, they both grinned.

He took a deep breath, and with the most amazing smile she’d ever seen, he pulled her in for a hug. It was quite unlike any she’d ever gotten from him before, or from anyone for that matter. His arms were wrapped around her shoulders and he drew her in closer, like he didn’t want to let her go for fear that she’d float away. She could feel his haggard breathing, his rapid heartbeat. He held her there, and ran a hand over her hair, then down her back, rubbing gentle circles between her shoulders. It was the sweetest, most endearing hug they’d ever shared, but she was silently wishing for more…she wanted him to kiss her, more than anything in the world.

As if he had heard her thoughts, he pulled slightly back from her, just inches from her face, his eyes searching hers for permission. She couldn’t speak, because her heart was sitting in her throat, but she hoped he could feel the desire that was threatening to engulf her. He inched closer, slowly, his eyes darting back and forth between her eyes and her lips. She felt his breath on her cheek, and her eyes fluttered shut. Time had completely stopped. After an infinity of waiting in the darkness, she felt the soft pressure of his lips on hers…moist and warm, sweet and tender, and the most wonderful thing she’d ever felt.

She was glad that he was holding her so tightly, or she might have collapsed right then. After a few seconds, he broke the kiss and backed away. Her chest was heaving, and she nearly gasped for air. She was just thinking that it couldn’t possibly get any better when he came back, this time with a passion and yearning he’d clearly held back the first time. She melted into the heat he was building between them, and when she parted her lips slightly to catch her breath, she tasted the welcome invasion of chocolate.

She didn’t want the feeling to ever stop, but he eventually ended their kiss, gently catching her lips twice more in surrender. With her forehead rested against his, she tried desperately to remember every moment of their fist kiss…to lock it away in her memories forever. When she was finally able to come down from the rapture of it all, she opened her eyes and was met by his dark green gaze, and she smiled.

She reluctantly said goodnight, and promised to see him the following day. With a flick of her wand, she opened the door and stepped inside, chancing one last glance at the man she truly hoped she’d share many more kisses with. He smiled sweetly and waved, and she closed the door, feeling utterly overwhelmed and exhilarated.

* * * * *

Harry turned the corner outside Hermione’s flat, just out of view of her door, and leaned back against the wall, shaking, panting, and his heart beating so hard that his vision was blurred with each beat. He dropped his hands to his knees and took two deep breaths, trying to calm his overactive nerves. He couldn’t believe he was reacting like this…it was ridiculous. Real men don’t act this way.

Unable to resist temptation, he peeked around the corner quickly. He scolded himself for doing so, but he just had to check. Finally satisfied that she wasn’t there, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, concentrating on calming the butterflies in his stomach. Slowly, he raised a trembling hand and touched his lips with his fingertips. A huge grin emerged, like he’d just hit the ‘on’ switch on the telly.

Realizing he could barely hold himself upright, he slid down to the floor, his hand still at his mouth. His lips were vibrating. It was the strangest sensation. They felt tingly and huge, and he was almost sure he could feel them throbbing. He chuckled softly, realizing that it was completely impossible for him to wipe that stupid grin off his face. He wanted to remember this night for the rest of his life.

He had been dreaming about this night forever. Forever! Three years, one month, fourteen days, three hours and some-odd minutes to be exact. That was how long he’d been secretly in love with her. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, maybe a sign…or maybe he hoped she’d come running to him to confess her love first. It was when she talked about accepting a date from a friend of Ginny that Harry finally broke down and put his heart on his sleeve.

She was so hard to read. Since fifth year - since the night they lost Sirius and Harry thought he’d lost her as well – he’d watched her, trying to see if she felt anything more than friendship toward him. It had taken that moment, seeing her motionless and unresponsive, for him to realize he’d already loved her for some time. But he was so afraid of rejection, and even more afraid of losing their friendship, that it took him another three years to actually tell her how he felt.

He was furious with himself for waiting so long. If she’d felt the same way about him all this time…well, there was no going back now. Truth be told, he still wasn’t sure he’d have told her back then, out of fear of endangering her more. But the important thing was that their feelings were out in the open now, and she’d decided to give him a chance! He was flabbergasted. She was actually giving him a chance!

The night he confessed was completely dreamlike to him; he still couldn’t believe he’d done it. He was just sitting at home, sorting his chocolate frog cards, when it suddenly hit him. He had to tell her. Now.

Despite the torrential rain, he walked to her flat…he needed the extra time to figure out what he was going to say. When she answered the door she seemed terribly concerned about him having come over so late and being soaked to the bone. She looked so worried, and so incredibly beautiful, but he made himself focus on one thing and one thing alone; he just had to tell her. They sat at her dining table, and his heart raced, hoping that she wouldn’t laugh at him, or scream at him. But when he finally collected himself enough to start confessing, her mouth fell open and she stared at him, unblinking and motionless. She didn’t say anything, she just sat there, gawking at him…and a twisted, knotty feeling arose in his stomach. He had just told her that he was in love with her. Why wasn’t she saying anything? He was petrified.

It only took a second for the tears to start. He wasn’t expecting that at all. She was just sobbing uncontrollably, and he was clueless about what to do. At first he thought he’d upset her, and he began apologizing. He knew he should have kept it to himself. But then she calmed down enough to tell him she’d felt the same way about him for years, and the wave of relief that washed over him was tidal.

It was awkward at first, and although he felt like a huge burden had been lifted from him, he had no idea what to say next. His walk hadn’t been long enough to think about that. But they laughed about the awkwardness, and that started the conversation that led back to feeling comfortable with one another again.

They talked for hours, each admitting the moment they fell in love with the other, and remembering all the special times they’d shared during their school years. When he at last got the nerve to ask her out on a real date, he felt ten times more scared than he’d felt asking Cho Chang to the Yule Ball. Even though they’d just confessed their love for one another, he was still surprised when she accepted his offer. She smiled and gently squeezed his hand, and it took everything in him to remain still in his seat. Wait…she was holding his hand?? Shortly after, he Apparated back home, and he made so much noise hollering and shouting in his excitement that the neighbors banged on the walls to quiet him down.

When the day of their first date finally arrived, Harry couldn’t concentrate on anything but seeing her that night. He enlisted the help of an eager Ginny Weasley to assist him in dressing for the evening. Despite, or possibly even because of he and Hermione being best friends for more than seven years, he was a nervous wreck. He couldn’t believe they were going on a date, a real date, which meant the whole night had the looming presence of expectations: Would she expect him to be a perfect gentleman? Would she expect him to be her Prince Charming? Would she expect the infamous good-night kiss? He was thankful he had Ginny there for some last-minute tips and advice before it was time to pick her up.

When Hermione answered the door, Harry was astonished that she could possibly look more beautiful than she usually did…oh, who was he kidding? She was gorgeous! She’d suggested a cozy little restaurant nearby, so they decided to walk to dinner. He offered his arm, too nervous to take her hand, and hoped that he wouldn’t do anything stupid, mentally going over Ginny’s etiquette check list. He slipped the host a tip to seat them at an intimate table near the back, where they quickly settled in and ordered. The food was good, the restaurant was nice, and the company was amazing.

In ways it was no different than any other dinner together, but at the same time it was completely different. He started noticing the little things; things he now realized had always happened, but he’d just taken them as insignificant or friendly gestures before…like Hermione accidentally brushing his leg with her foot, or offering him a bite of her food from her fork. There was a thrilling buzz in the air, an invisible energy that surged each time their eyes met for a little too long, or when she’d subconsciously lick her lips after she finished speaking.

They sat there for hours, just talking, with a silent but understood endeavor to bring their connection to an unknown and exhilarating new level. It was strange to him. He felt like he was meeting her for the first time, even though they’d built their friendship ages ago. He knew this girl so well, and yet they seemed to constantly find new things to talk about, things they had never talked about before. He was amazed to learn that there was so much he hadn’t known about his best friend.

Darkness settled around them and the streets cleared before they even realized it. He was surprised when they found everything closing down already, but they decided to end the evening and he walked her home. They strolled casually, talking, and he cautiously took hold of her hand, enjoying the closeness they shared. There was something enchanting about the night air, something they’d never learned about at Hogwarts.

Just steps away from her door, he suddenly felt the tension. He’d had such a great night, he’d forgotten about the end of the date. Would she? If not, should he? His heart raced. His hands were sweating. He wanted it, but did she?

They stood awkwardly for a moment; she chewed on her lip nervously while he ran an unsteady hand through his hair. With a shared glance and mutual amusement at their nervousness, they both grinned.

He took a deep breath, and with all the intentions of going in for a kiss, he pulled her in for a hug. He was kicking himself mentally for being such a ninny. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and he drew her in closer, hoping that if he played it off right she wouldn’t know that he’d bottled out. He could feel her shallow breathing, her pulse pounding. He held her there, and touched her soft hair, then ran his hand down her back, rubbing gentle circles between her shoulders. He was trying to gather his nerve; he could do this, he was in the right position to move in…he just wanted to kiss her, more than anything in the world.

As if by magic, something came over him, an uncontrollable instinct, and he backed up, stopping just inches before her face. He searched her eyes for permission and when she didn’t pull away, he moved closer. She didn’t speak, so he took that as a sign that she didn’t object…that, and the intense heat she emitted that was threatening to engulf him. He inched closer still, slowly, his eyes darting back and forth between her eyes and her lips. He felt her breath on his cheek, and saw her eyes flutter shut. Time had completely stopped. This was it. Years of waiting had come down to this moment. He subconsciously moistened his lips, and leaned forward, and softly pressed his to hers. It was the most wonderful thing he’d ever felt.

He felt her knees give slightly, and he held her a bit tighter. Feeling that he should make sure she was alright with this, he broke the kiss and backed away. Her chest was heaving, and she nearly gasped for air. Seeing her flushed cheeks and her pursed lips, he found the confidence he needed to kiss her again, this time with a passion and yearning he’d struggled to hold back the first time. She melted into the heat that was building between them, and when she parted her lips slightly to catch her breath, he cautiously deepened their kiss, blending chocolate with mint.

After the shortest eternity ever, he ended the kiss, gently catching her lips twice more in defeat. With his forehead rested against hers, he breathed deeply and opened his eyes to see her still trying to come down from the euphoria of it all. She blinked once or twice and opened her eyes, giving him an irresistibly crooked little smile.

Against his heart’s desire he told her goodnight, but he knew he had to see her again as soon as possible. She unlocked her door and stepped inside, and as if by his will, she turned back and met his gaze. He smiled and waved as she closed the door, and turned to leave with the most amazing feeling that he was flying without his broom.

* * * * *

Knock knock knock knock.

The resident of 11C anxiously opened her door and looked out. She had still been standing just inside, not wanting the night to be over. The man that stood before her wore a sheepish grin, and was visibly disheveled. She smiled back at him, her own nervous excitement apparent in her slightly trembling hands. Before she could even say “hello,” he reached forward, taking her by the arm and pulling her to him, and interlocked their lips in a passionate and frenzied attempt to become one with her. If ever there was evidence that magic was real, it was present in that moment, shared by two souls that were made for each other.

Several minutes later, when their inherent need to be together gave way to their bodies’ need for air, they reluctantly separated. They stood silently, clinging to the moment while they could, gently stroking arms and cheeks. Finally, knowing they must part, he brushed a few stray hairs back behind her ear, kissed her once more on the cheek, and with a last smile he disappeared.