Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up everyone. I've had a rough week. My insomnia is damn near incurable, so I've been visiting various doctors and trying to fix things. Anyway, here is chapter eight, and I'm rather fond of it, because Harry is finally starting to get a bit of a clue! There is a really fluffy HG/DM moment in this chapter, so all you Pumpkin Pie shippers be forewarned! Don't worry, our Harry will get the girl eventually! And maybe Hannah will die a tragic death...a lot of people seem itching for that...hehehe. Tell you what...I highly doubt I will kill off Hannah but whoever leaves the most creative means of possible death in their review will get an early peek at the next chapter! Let the chaos begin!
Chapter Eight-- Karaoke Night Again, and Another Surprise
Hermione spent Thursday and Friday at her office doing paperwork and checking in with her boss. In truth, those things could have waited, but Hermione thought the less time she spent alone with Harry, the better. One more minute of his company and she would not be responsible for her actions...such as snogging him senseless. Then again, if she waited until Hannah returned, perhaps justifiable homicide would be in order...maybe a machete and a pair of pliers?
Nah. Too messy. It'd take ages to get the blood out of her robes.
Friday night came as usual, and Hermione was thrilled to arrive last at the pub, the sight of her friends huddled together giving her a warm glow.
There was Ginny, looking particularly pretty in a blue jumper. 'Ginny is a wonderful friend,' Hermione reflected, 'And she doesn't get told that enough.'
There was Neville. He'd been terribly busy at work that week, but his sympathetic expression told Hermione that Ginny had probably filled him in on the situation.
There were Luna and Ron, heads bent low and hands intertwined. For once, Luna was not the only one with a dreamy look on her face.
There was Draco. He grinned at her, and Hermione felt her heart stop. He was fantastically gorgeous, there was no denying that. He just wasn't Harry.
And Harry. She hadn't truly expected him to be there. Yet there was that famous green-eyed Gryffindor, slouching in his chair and nursing a drink. He was scowling fiercely and Hermione wondered what was bothering him.
Hermione settled down next to Harry as everyone greeted her warmly.
"So, Mione," laughed Ginny after everyone had settled down, "Draco here has decided to sing the first song of the evening."
"Really?" Hermione asked in surprise.
"Absolutely," Ron assured her as Malfoy scowled.
"What are you going to sing?"
Neville gave Malfoy a push out of his seat. "You'll see."
Hermione watched expectantly as Draco took the stage. When he opened his mouth, Hermione had to pick up her jaw off the floor. The rest of the table was trying not to laugh...except for Harry, who looked murderous.
"I've heard people say that too much of anything is not good for you Baby, But, I don't know about that, As many times as we've loved, and we've shared love and made love...it's just not enough, Hermione...it's just not enough....Awwwww...."
Hermione gaped as Draco really got the song going.
"My darling, I can't get enough of your love, Babe
I don't know, I don't know why
I can't get enough of your love Babe
Some things I can't get used to
No matter how I try
It's like the more you give, the more I want
And, Baby, that's no lie
What can I say
What am I going do?
How should I feel when everything is you?
What kind of love is this
That you're given me?
Is it in your kiss?
Or just because you're sweet?
All I know
Is every time you're near
I feel a change
Something moves
I scream your name
Do what you got to do!"
Draco hopped off the stage and gave a very nice spin, striding over to Hermione in time to the music.
"'If I could only make you see
And make you understand
Girl, your love for me is all I need
And as much as I can stand
How can I explain
All the things I feel?
You've given me so much
But girl you're so unreal
I keep loving you more and more each time
What am I gonna do?
'Cause you're blowing my mind."
Draco grabbed Hermione out of her chair and pulled her close as she laughed. He finished his song and pressed his lips gently against hers amidst a room full of catcalls. Hermione found herself unconsciously relaxing in his familiar embrace.
When he pulled away, Malfoy was beaming at her.
"Draco," she breathed nervously. He put his finger against her lips.
"Not now, Granger," he mumbled roughly. "Not bloody now."
And he lowered his mouth to hers once more.
Hermione broke the kiss this time, immediately turning to glance at Harry. He appeared ill.
"Malfoy," whispered Hermione, "What exactly did you tell them?"
"The truth," replied Malfoy easily. Hermione's eyes widened. "Just kidding, love. I told them I was trying to get back with you, that's all."
"Malfoy!" Hermione hissed angrily. "In front of Harry? You know how I feel about Harry!"
"Yes, Granger, I know how you feel about Harry," Draco responded gently, "And I know how Harry doesn't feel about you." And with a strangely appropriate half-bow, Malfoy turned and stormed out of the pub.
"Damn, damn, damn," swore the witch, sinking back into her chair.
"Way to go, Hermione!" squealed Luna.
"Yeah, Malfoy is hott," added Ginny.
"I think you two make a great couple," threw in Neville.
"Dunno why you ever split up," agreed Ron.
"I haven't said yes to anything!" protested Hermione.
Harry, who had been looking rather cross, brightened considerably. "You didn't give him permission to paw at you? You want me to beat the tar out of him, doll? Because I will, you just say the word and I'll--"
"Give it a rest, Potter," Ron rolled his eyes. "It was just a kiss, for Merlin's sake, he wasn't trying to feel her up or anything. Besides, it's not like they've never shagged before--"
"Ron!" yelled Hermione.
"Sorry, sorry, just trying to get my point across."
"Oh, bloody hell. This is all rubbish!" Harry stood abruptly, knocking over his chair. "I'll see you all later." And without so much as a look back, he left.
"You guys!" exploded Hermione as soon as Harry was out of sight. "What the devil are you all thinking? You know I'm in love with Harry! Merlin, Ron, you're the one that thinks I should tell him! And the rest of you hate Hannah, too!"
"Mione," said Ron calmly. "We know all that. Did you see the way Harry reacted? Are you blind as to what that means?"
"But Harry was just..." the woman trailed off, looking thoughtful.
"Jealous," finished Ginny triumphantly.
"So you guys..."
"Planned the whole thing," supplied Neville cheekily.
"You see, Hermione," Luna explained dreamily, "It killed two birds with one stone. Draco wanted to prove he was serious about how he felt, and we wanted to see if Harry would be upset about it or not."
"But Malfoy's feelings...don't his feelings count for anything?" asked Hermione.
Ron sighed. "We told him what we were hoping...he knew. He just...he wants you to understand that he loves you, and if Harry isn't interested...he'll be around to pick up the pieces."
Hermione buried her head in her palms.
"Do you think I'm an idiot for getting involved with Harry? Emotionally involved?"
"No," replied Ron quietly, "I think he's an idiot for not treating you well."
Pulling her head up, Hermione smiled through her tears. "You are the best mates in the world."
"Don't we know it," mumbled Luna.
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Harry went home and sulked on his couch. He tried watching the telly, tried to read, tried to sleep, and finally threw a tantrum when he saw a seating chart for his wedding lying under the table.
"Erhhhhhhh..." he moaned in frustration, ripping up the chart in a frenzy and then flopping on the couch wearily.
Hermione had looked beautiful tonight. She'd rushed in after a long day at work, but she'd been as lovely as ever, or at least Harry thought so. Her curls had been pulled away from her face in a messy ponytail, her cheeks flushed, her lips full...
And then came that whole bloody Malfoy ordeal. Who did the chap think he was? Barry White?
Harry was fuming. How dare that...that...that bugger try to get in Hermione's knickers! He hadn't liked them dating the first time, and he didn't like it now. Malfoy just wasn't suited to Hermione, that was all there was to it.
"Besides," Harry added aloud to Hedwig, "Mione should be concentrating on planning our wedding anyway."
Hedwig hooted.
"Oh, you know what I mean, mine and Hannah's wedding," amended Harry.
Hannah. He had hardly spoken to her since she'd left. It was strange really, when one considered the way she hung all over him when they were together. Harry had tried owling her that morning, but still no reply. He couldn't Floo her; Hannah said that Beauxbatons wasn't connected to the network.
It was rather odd.
What he needed, Harry decided, was a plan. A way to make Hermione so busy that she wouldn't have time to date Malfoy even if she wanted to. The Auror racked his brain...the wedding plans were progressing at a quick pace, but still...he needed something more pressing, like...like.....
Like a bridal shower traditionally thrown by the maid of honour.
Yahtzee.
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As Harry stewed, Hermione spent time with the others, then called it an early night.
At least, she tried to call it an early night.
She never expected to come home and find a half-asleep Harry sprawled on her sofa.
"Harry!" she exclaimed. "I know I said you're always welcome in my flat, but this might be a bit much."
"Mione?" he mumbled sleepily. "Hey, Mione..."
Hermione rolled her eyes and flopped down beside him. "Hey, Harry."
"I wanted to ask you something." Suddenly, Harry was wide-awake and serious.
"Yes?" Hermione's attention was focused solely on the wizard in front of her. Could this be it? Had tonight finally made Harry realise that he cared about her as more than a friend?
"It's about Hannah."
Hermione's hopes plummeted faster than a Wronski Feint.
"Oh."
"I know that you're already doing practically everything, planning the wedding and all, but you are the maid of honour, so..." Harry trailed off, flushing red.
"So what, Harry? Listen, I promise to go along with Hannah and wear that horrid dress, okay, if that's what you're worried about."
"No, that's not it. I--"
"And I relented about having carnations in her bouquet, though they are probably the ugliest flower know to man."
"Oh, I don't care. I just--"
"And I already told her to go ahead and wear gloves if that's what she wants, even if she looks like some bizarre serial killer. I once saw this documentary where this bride went crazy and stalked people in her wedding dress. They all thought that she--"
"HERMIONE!" screamed Harry. "Would you listen for a moment?"
"Gee, Harry, there's no need to shout, I'm right here. Bloody rude, interrupting people like that."
The man sighed. "I wanted to make sure that you remembered that it's tradition for the maid of honour to throw the bride her shower."
"What?"
"A wedding shower, you've heard of them? It's the maid of honour's job. I just wanted to remind you of that. I don't want Hannah to miss out on any part of this experience."
"Harry, it's usually the maid of honour's job because generally she's the bride's closest friend. I'm not Hannah's closest friend. I'm not Hannah's anything-friend. In fact, I can BARELY TOLERATE THE BLOODY TROLLOP!"
Hermione, it seemed, had reached her breaking point. She didn't give a Kneazle's behind whether Hannah had a bridal shower or not. And she certainly had no intention of throwing one for the manipulative little tart.
"I know that Anna's not your favourite person, doll," sighed Harry, "But you did agree to be the maid of honour, and you did agree to try and do your best."
"I am doing my best, Harry James Potter," said Hermione impatiently. "But that is...please, just...ask Ginny to do it or something."
"Then what will Hannah think?"
"Frankly, Harry, I don't give a damn," smirked Hermione...she'd always wanted to say that.
"But..."
"Godric's Hollow, Harry! You were Head Boy...improvise. Tell her I'm busy planning the perfect wedding, but I cared too much to let her go without a proper bridal shower so I roped our dear friend Ginny into it."
"But..." Harry protested feebly. In truth, Hermione's plan couldn't really be rationally argued. It's just that Harry's plan seemed to be going right down the loo.
Perhaps the direct approach would work.
"Are you going to date Malfoy?" Harry asked suddenly.
"What?" the witch asked incredulously. "Harry, what in Merlin's beard does that have to do with what we were talking about?"
"I want to know," he insisted stubbornly.
"Oh, what do you care?" retorted Hermione.
"I care," Harry replied softly. "Of course I care."
"I don't know, Harry. I honestly don't know anymore."
"I think it's a mistake," Harry voiced his opinion firmly. He ran a hand through his indelibly messy hair.
"Thanks for your concern," replied Hermione dryly.
Harry stood up angrily. "What the hell is with the attitude? I'm just trying to be a good friend!"
"Bull. You're trying to make sure that I don't have too many distractions so that your darling Anna's wedding goes perfectly. Well, just quit. It will be fine. Why? Because I am level-headed. I am organised. And I am damn professional!"
"I'm sorry."
"You should be. Now get out."
"What?"
"I said get out."
"Hermione, don't be mad. I was just..."
"I've had enough of not being mad, Harry. I'm tired of it. I intend to be mad for a little while. I've more than earned it."
"You're right," admitted Harry.
"I'm always right. It's a curse."
"Goodnight, doll."
"Goodnight, Harry."
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Hermione passed the weekend holed up in her flat, singing depressing songs and just generally commenting on the dysfunctional world that she was forced to live in. Harry spent the weekend worrying about Hermione, worrying about Hermione and Malfoy, and occasionally wondering why Anna hadn't owled him at all.
The workdays came quickly, and Hermione made her excuses to Harry and spent more time in the office. All in all, when Tuesday rolled around, Harry was relieved that Hannah was due back any minute.
At dinner time, there was a knock at Harry's door.
"Bloody hell, Anna, why didn't you just Apparate in? The wards recognize--" Harry had started talking before opening the door, but now that he had, there was not just Hannah staring at him...there was a tall, handsome man in robes.
Bloody, rotten, stinking hell.
Harry suddenly felt as though he'd spent a week living off of Hagrid's rock cakes.
In other words, extremely sick.
Author's Notes: The song lyrics are from Barry White's "Can't Get Enough Of Your Love, Babe." I don't own them, nor do I own Barry's sultry voice, God rest his soul.
Not necessarily a true quote, but I feel the need to acknowledge it anyway...I have a tendency to use the phrase "Damn, damn, damn," a lot when I feel the characters would swear. This is for two reasons: 1) Because damn is possibly the least offensive swear word, and truth be told I'm not crazy about vulgar language and 2) Whenever I use it, I'm thinking of Professor Henry Higgins (aka Rex Harrison) in the movie version of "My Fair Lady", one of the best musicals ever. He constantly uses that to swear, and I love the way it sounds.
Hermione's question "Do you think I'm an idiot for getting involved with him?" and Ron's reply "No, I think he's an idiot for not treating you well," is a little snippet from the movie "Center Stage", which I happen to adore. I'm actually considering writing an AU H/Hr fic based on that...
I think everyone in the world should know this quote, but if not...eh. betteer be safe than to have a lawsuit on my hands..."Frankly, Harry, I don't give a damn," was an adaptation of Rhett Butler's line from the movie "Gone With The Wind," which, of course, is a classic. If you haven't seen it, then you are no true film buff!
All the warped and twisted humor is my own.
Except for Malfoy. Bloody hell, I think he writes himself.