Seeking Hermione's Bean
Title: Seeking Hermione's Bean (11)
Author name: Romulus Lupin
Author email: galigad@yahoo.com
Category: Romance
Sub Category: Humour
Keywords: Harry Hermione Bertie Botts Beans
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF
Summary: The one you've all been waiting for. :D
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AUTHOR NOTES: This chapter is dedicated to Jordan (pok), who issued the original challenge which led to this story, and to andie (pottergirl786), whose wonderful story "Beyond A Kiss" has been the constant inspiration and driving force behind this.
A shout-out to Bruce (Paracelsus) for a most memorable line from one of his stories.
And… a very belated "Happy Birthday!" to Gillian Halliwell, whose constant companionship and unending friendship have been beacons in the dark world of real life.
And without further ado…
Chapter 11. Finding Hermione's Bean
Harry leaned forward at last and pressed his lips gently against hers. And all of his thoughts vanished from there.
From that moment, from that light, almost fleeting, contact, grew something that was beyond thought between them. Harry didn't know anything except the feel of Hermione's lips against his: the warmth of them, the taste of them, the sheer explosion that was bursting forth within him-from his stomach to his toes-and shooting back up again...
Something was happening beyond a kiss. Every nerve fiber in Harry's body was on end - ignited, like a flame - burning through him as he deepened the kiss. And as Hermione responded, as she pulled him nearer - one hand around his middle, the other on his chest beneath his frantically beating heart - Harry found his hands moving, too - from her cheek to her hair, from her waist to her back - as he tried to get nearer to her still.
He wondered briefly what was coming over them - and why they were behaving in such an unrestrained manner - but what little thought he had was swiftly swept aside when Hermione's lips parted beneath his. Shocked to find their tongues touching, Harry made a sound between a gasp and a moan, but kissed Hermione still - rising to some challenge that hadn't been present a moment earlier.
They kissed and kissed - for what duration of time, Harry had no idea - but he was surprised and breathing heavily when Hermione finally broke away from him….
No words were spoken-no "Wow!" from Hermione, no answering "Yeah!" from Harry… they simply sat and stared at each other. This wasn't the drawing room of Grimmauld Place-they were in the Room of Requirement. They weren't standing under enchanted mistletoe-they were sitting on the floor, Hermione in Harry's lap, arms around each other, faces mere inches apart. Neither was there a Christmas tree blinking with fairy lights in the room-the flickering light was coming from the fireplace in the replica of the Gryffindor Common Room that the Room had provided them.
Without a word, they glanced up for confirmation-yes, they thought, there was no enchanted mistletoe above them, and this was not a dream but reality-and the words that they'd spoken to each other-both the harsh and the gentle-came back to their fevered minds.
And still they didn't speak.
They didn't even make a move to stand or to put some distance from the other.
They simply sat there, eyes locked, waiting for one or the other to make a move or to say a word… until a harsh inhalation broke their focus as warm blood rushed into their faces in a blush that would have made the Weasleys proud with a startling realization…
They were touching bare, flushed, heated skin.
In the frenzy of re-living the moment under the enchanted mistletoe in Grimmauld, their hands had followed their memories, but now, but now, their hands had somehow worked their way under their shirts-Hermione's right hand splayed around Harry's back while the other was over his heart, feeling its rapid beat against her fingertips… while Harry's hands were pressing flat against her back from pulling her closer to him.
They didn't move but kept their eyes locked… felt their breaths touching the others' face… feeling their hearts beating through their still-heated fingers and palms…
"When it doubt, follow instinct."
It was the merest whisper, and for the briefest of moments, they both wondered if there was someone else in the room-only for their eyes to widen as they realized that it was Hermione who'd spoken. A completely flabbergasted Harry Potter stared at his best friend but she stared back, eyes unflinching, showing neither remorse nor a desire to take back her words…
And then Harry leaned forward, his lips once again brushing her forehead before moving down to her lips-but he was tilting his face to one side even as Hermione lifted her head to meet him, as the part of their brains where instinct resided assured them that this time there would be no need to break apart to breathe…
*
"All right, Ginny?"
The high-pitched, exuberant voice grated on her tired nerves and weary mind and, for the first time in her fifteen years, Ginevra Molly Weasley found herself contemplating using an Avada Kedavra on someone other than her brothers. She glared at her companion in a vain effort to shut him up, but sighed-there was something feeding Colin Creevey's frenzied energy, but she was simply too tired and mentally exhausted to try and figure that out.
To say nothing of angry, frustrated, bothered, annoyed, irritated-
"All right, Ginny?" It was only the patience honed from years of dealing with six older brothers that kept Ginny from hexing her fellow-Prefect. Besides, she thought, there was a genuine concern in Colin's voice, tempering his earlier exuberance-she shook her head in response, saying, "I'm all right, Colin… bit tired, you know."
"Oh! I'm sorry, Ginny," the mousy-haired wizard said, the contrition in his voice a sharp contrast to his earlier exuberance. "I wasn't thinking-"
`And that, my dear Colin, is exactly your problem,' Ginny thought, wondering-not for the first time-whether Dumbledore was deep into the fire whiskey or smoking ganja (or whatever it was Dean said his cousins were smoking), when he decided to make Colin Creevey a prefect. She pushed that thought away the moment it entered her mind, remembering another prefect whom nobody expected to be named as one-not Ron himself, not her brothers, not even her parents believed it, so who was she to judge?
"It's just that, when Ernie and Hannah asked if we could take over tonight's patrols, I thought it was a perfect opportunity…" Ginny tuned out Colin's breathless explanation; she didn't want to hear a recap of Colin's conversation with the older Hufflepuff prefects-all that was on her mind the fact that she was tired.
She shook her head in an effort to clear it of the fog that was settling in. It had been a long day: eavesdropping after breakfast… avoiding Filch in the Great Hall… drawing Bowtruckles while listening to the goings-on in Hagrid's hut… running when Harry blew it up and wondering whether Ron was still alive… rushing from the Hospital Wing to Gryffindor Tower to head off Harry, only to witness the aftermath of Hurricane Hermione…
"Enough, Colin!" She fought back the smirk she felt at the shocked look on his face, and tried a wan smile to take the edge off her cutting remark. "Let's just get on with it, all right? The sooner we start, the earlier we finish and we can go back to bed and sleep-"
"Right, Ginny! Let's go!" Ginny stopped her mouth from dropping in astonishment as the momentarily-contrite and apologetic youngster transformed back into the bouncing, energetic and extremely enthusiastic Colin Creevey they all knew.
"C'mon, Gin!" She blinked away her astonishment, and tried to follow at a sedate pace, a sudden thought coming to the forefront of her mind: why, for the love of Merlin, is Colin lugging his camera along?
*
There were no words to describe this… and for Hermione Jane Granger, walking dictionary, talking reference book, all-around know-it-all-that was something she totally could not believe.
She had never been at a loss for words: not even when the owl arrived with her Hogwarts letter… not when Professor McGonagall escorted them to Diagon Alley to buy her books and school supplies… not her first view of Hogwarts as it towered in the night sky… even their first entrance into the Great Hall found her chattering away in her nervousness…
But this time… this time… there were no words to describe what she was going through…
What was happening to her.
Nothing, not one thing, in the hundreds of books she'd read, nothing in everything she'd heard of or overheard from her dorm-mates or the whispered conversations and giggling discussions in the girl's toilets… nothing could have prepared her for what she was going through right now…
Not even those minutes or hours spent snogging with Harry beneath the mistletoe of Grimmauld Place had prepared her for this.
She'd thought it was a fluke at the time-an accidental stroke of luck likely fueled by whatever enchantment Fred and George had imbued that mistletoe with… and the weeks and months since had done nothing to disabuse her of that idea. She had gone back to her friendly and affectionate mode with Harry-even though she knew that they had been more affectionate and friendly with each other than ever before. She'd often wondered, in those brief moments when they'd hugged or held hands, when Harry's hand went around her waist for a fleeting embrace or she'd held him for a quick hug, whether that kiss under the mistletoe would be the high point of her life… because there would be nothing more like it ever again.
But now, now she knew that it was only a stopover-a momentary rest stop-because of the reality that was consuming her…
She was drowning… sinking in a whirling pool of alternating coolness and warmth: a searing trail of fire as Harry's lips ran over her face while his hands caressed her skin… followed by a relieving sensation of coolness as the sweat that poured from her evaporated in the cold air of the room… only for the cycle of warmth to begin again as her hands continued to caress him-moving from his chiseled chest to the planes and ridges of his back… fisting in his hair even as her lips roamed his face…
It felt as if her hands and feet had minds of their own-her toes curling in on themselves to a rhythm all their own while her hands were fisting into the silky waves of Harry's dark hair, her mind and body engaged in a war of their own within her delirious brain-unsure of whether to pull his hair and bring him closer and tighter or to push him away before she exploded in a raging inferno of… of…
Passion? Hunger? Yearning?
Lust?
She had never before been at a loss for words but the brain that had never ever failed her finally responded to her unconscious demand for description-
"Harry!"
It was a long, drawn out word: half-scream and half-moan, but it was the only way that her brain could describe her feelings at this moment, as every nerve ending, every drop of blood, every firing synapse of electricity seemed to pool within her-
Only for her fevered body to feel an escalation of the fire within as Harry's lips crashed again on her, her soft whimper as she called out his name muffled beneath his lips which were whispering her name-and she felt her tongue lancing out to meet his in an impassioned dance that moved from his mouth to hers and back again, their feverish hands touching, pressing, burning over their heated, sweaty skin-
And felt herself blinded for the merest flicker of time as a white flash of light exploded in her eyes… her mind jumping briefly to a moment in time when she'd been looking straight into her father's camera and the flashbulb exploded in her eyes…
But the memory was quickly erased as she felt herself falling limply in Harry's arms… their collected energy exploding in a convulsive wave of power, as if a boulder had been thrown into a deep pool, the waves radiating outwards from their place on the floor even as impassioned murmurs were exchanged: "I love you… oh, god how I love you…"
*
"SHHHHH!"
The harsh whisper echoed along the dimly lit corridor, and startled an introspective Ginny out of her somber mood. She'd been on auto-pilot, mechanically patrolling the dim corridors and empty classrooms of Hogwarts as her mind kept drifting back to her warm bed and soft pillows-wishing that she was lying down wrapped in the blanket that Molly had knitted for her, even as she wondered what the hell Colin Creevey was up to.
Prefect patrols were dull, tedious, repetitive: make sure that there were no students in the corridors after curfew, do random checks on broom closets and empty classrooms in case someone was doing something `inappropriate,' make sure that no pranks or something worse had been planted in the corridors-avoid Peeves at all cost!
Every once in a while, they would catch someone where they weren't supposed to-she shuddered at the memory of one patrol where she opened a closet only to find Michael Corner and Zacharias Smith cowering inside! They claimed that they were sneaking down to the kitchens for a midnight snack-a likely story, given they were from different houses and the only way they would have been found together was if they'd met somewhere first!
She shook her head of the memory, grateful that they'd found nothing wrong on this patrol, and she focused on keeping her wobbly body from crashing into the wall-they were supposed to check closets and rooms randomly, but Creevey was taking things too far! He'd opened each and every broom closet they'd come across… checked and re-checked every classroom they came to: making sure that the classrooms in use were locked up tight while the unused classrooms were empty, peeking in to every alcove and niche they came to, and even checking behind tapestries and curtains!
Colin's harsh shushing had snapped her out of her bothered mind and she shook her head as she tried to understand why Colin was quivering in excitement and gesticulating wildly, when her ears picked up the distinctive sound of something-or some one-scuffling around behind the door that Colin was gleefully pointing at, interspersed with the sound of muffled yowling that made her mouth drop open in shock-
Harry isn't-
Hermione wouldn't-
They shouldn't-
They couldn't-
And Ginny's eyes grew wide as she realized just what it was that Colin Creevey, self-appointed photographer of the Life and Times of Harry James Potter, was planning.
He wouldn't…
He shouldn't…
They couldn't…
She stared at him in shock, her eyes seemingly blank as her mind replayed an incident from her first year-the time when Harry told them all of what he'd seen and heard in the Hospital Wing as he recovered from the rogue Bludger: of McGonagall finding Creevey just minutes before Dumbledore arrived… the Headmaster and his Deputy wrestling the petrified Colin and the camera in his hands on to the hospital bed… the camera with which he'd tried to take a picture of the monster but whose film had melted underneath the gaze of the basilisk… of the bunch of grapes that was beside him when he was found-
Even then, she thought to herself, even then, the little twit's brain was lagging behind. After all, what dodo would be sneaking around the castle with a bunch of grapes and a camera? Sure, he was trying to get into the Hospital Wing to bring his idol a midnight snack, but why should he even bring a camera along? To take a picture of Harry while he was eating grapes?
The camera!
That's why Colin was lugging his camera on this patrol! She rolled her eyes at the thought. Colin and his camera! That stupid camera of his will be the death of him… he'd probably be trying to catch a picture of The Unnamable Prat as he casts an AK… hopefully, the Unforgivable will blast the camera before it goes on to blast Colin, as it did with the basilisk he encountered…
She blinked as she finally understood Colin's charade-
No.
Not after everything that had happened-in Hagrid's hut, in the Gryffindor Common Room, the near-hexing of Padma by the rattled, paranoid Trio of Neville, Seamus and Dean…
No.
But even as she was screaming the word to herself, she found herself moving… hand reaching for the doorknob… hearing her harsh breath as she tried to control herself… closing her eyes as she started cursing that sense of adventure and daring that was so much a part of being a Weasley-Bill with his curse-breaking talents in the service of the goblins, Charlie with his dragons in Romania, the Twins with their jokes and legendary escapades, including their spectacular `escape' from Umbridge last year, Ron and herself with Harry's adventures including the battle in the Ministry of Magic… and Percy, by going against everyone of them-
She gathered herself, and nodded to the excited Colin as he positioned himself a few feet away from the door, camera held to his eye as he gestured an `OK' sign to her.
She held up three fingers and took a deep breath; at Colin's nod, she began a slow countdown-at her mental count of three, she twisted the knob and flung open the door-
To see a pair of blazing eyes glowering at her from the darkness of the interior a split second before Colin's camera flashed-and she was throwing up her hands to protect her face just before something slammed into her chest… felt a brief flash of pain as her arms were flailing and windmilling in an effort to keep her balance-
In the brief moment before she slammed on her back and her head pounded the floor, one lucid thought sprang to mind-so this was what happened to Dean, Seamus and Neville in Hagrid's hut…
*
Carefully, tenderly-as if he were lifting a box of Aunt Petunia's precious china-Harry lifted a dazed Hermione and staggered to the overstuffed couch in front of the fireplace where he managed to land without dropping the seemingly boneless witch. He leaned back on the couch as he adjusted Hermione's head into what he hoped was a more comfortable position on his chest, planted a soft kiss on her hair-and smiled as he felt her hands gripping his torn shirt-and felt her lips softly brushing his skin.
There were no words to describe this feeling… nothing ever written in any volume that he had ever read (admittedly, extremely few compared to what Hermione would have read)… but he somehow doubted that even Hermione, with her formidable intellect and near-perfect recall, would have been able to help him describe his feelings at this moment.
How can one describe perfection, after all?
He gave a gentle smile as he realized that her breathing was slow and steady… poor girl, he thought to himself. She must be exhausted… running all the way from the Great Hall to Gryffindor Tower looking for him… sneaking all over the castle and the grounds to get to Hagrid's hut and back… and then hexing his year-mates-both the boys and her roommates-all of it on a near-empty stomach!
And then, to have her anger stoked to full fury because of his tactless remarks…
He tightened his embrace around her for a moment, burying his nose and lips in her hair as he breathed deeply… savoring once again the scent and flavor that he knew would forever be imprinted on his brain.
Flavor.
Now why did that word sound important to him?
It seemed that his senses were enhanced-it felt as if everything about Hermione had been etched into his brain: the feel of her skin, the soft caress of her tongue as it explored his lips, her scent-that lovely blend of fragrances that he could never all name but which combined into the essence of Hermione…
And that thought made him stop-he realized that he'd been running the fingers of one hand through Hermione's hair, unconsciously but carefully untangling the knots he encountered while his other hand was entwined with the fingers of her hand.
`Essence of Hermione,' he thought as he shook his head. That was where it all began… the Bertie Botts Every-Flavor Beans that he'd bought for Ca… that single, singular bean that brought back to his mind the taste, the feel, the sensation of kissing-no, snogging-Hermione beneath the mistletoe of Grimmauld Place…
Had he bit into that singular bean only two nights before?
Harry rolled his eyes at the thought… who would have thought that so much could happen in such a short span of time? And yet, as he looked at the sleeping witch in his arms, he had to wonder-did it really all happen in less than seventy-two hours?
Or was this simply the logical conclusion to something that had been building up for years… something that had started when he'd jumped on the back of a troll to rescue a terrified eleven year old witch trapped in a bathroom-and turned full circle when that same witch set fire to a teacher's robe in order to save a frightened eleven-year old wizard trying to control a hexed broomstick?
But it never had turned full circle, he now realized… because each circle ending only meant that another cycle was about to begin… and his mind quickly drew a kaleidoscope of memories: of Hermione hugging him in first year… of finding the page in her Petrified hand… of Hermione looping a fine chain around his neck… summoning the Cup with the charm that she'd spent hours and hours teaching him… the whine of panic in his face as he saw her fall-
It wasn't a single distinctive flavor that he'd bit into when he'd found Hermione's Bean, he realized… it was a Bertie Botts bean which was an amalgamation of tens, or even hundreds of different flavors in a single bean…
Just as the Hermione in his arms was an amalgamation of tens, or even hundreds, of different aspects of Hermione: bookworm, know-it-all, Prefect, friend, companion… the studious Hermione who was wont to charge to the library to find an answer… the teary-eyed Hermione who'd tried to stop him from rash and foolish actions… the steely-minded Hermione who'd stood up to him when she felt he was wrong-and went along with him whenever he'd made up his mind…
The vulnerable Hermione who couldn't look in the mirror because she'd always thought of herself as plain-Jane Hermione, never seeing the things that he saw in her…
He bent forward to plant a soft kiss on her forehead, and smiled as he heard her murmur something in her sleep-and felt his grin grow wider as he felt her arms wrap themselves tighter around him.
He leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes, feeling his body relaxing into the comforting warmth of the couch and the witch wrapped in his arms. As he felt himself slowly slipping into sleep, his mind drifted back to something that Dean Thomas had said as he sat, frozen in Hagrid's hut: "Find Hermione, drag her to the Astronomy Tower or the nearest broom closet and snog her senseless."
`Thanks, Dean,' he thought before the comforting warmth claimed him.
*
It was a sight to make certain red-headed males quail-it was a vision frightening enough to make paintings, suits of armor, and even Peeves shiver: a red-faced, fire-haired witch striding down the corridors, steam coming out of her ears and with a glare that would have caused lesser men to shake in fear.
One look at the approaching witch, and Filch jumped back into the alcove he'd just emerged from-no need for a repeat of the incident earlier that night that had him mopping away at a certain spot on a lower floor. Times like these, the wizened caretaker thought, made him seriously consider the benefits of retirement-thoughts interspersed with the wish for a return to earlier days when Filch was Filch, and students were scared- not the other way around.
For the first time in her life, Ginny was actually debating the merits of the Cruciatus against Avada Kedavra-wondering whether going to Azkaban for life was worth the satisfaction of payback for the pain in her back and head when she'd been slammed on the floor after opening that stupid door-and she glared once again at Colin, who was scampering ahead of her, his camera tucked into his chest, terrified that she'd grab it and smash it on his head.
She shook her head as she continued her angry march towards Gryffindor Tower, her dormitory and her warm bed. Why was she taking it out on him, she asked herself. She was as much to blame… she had more than enough time to ponder, to deliberate, to consider and reflect on the action she was about to take-but no, oh no… she'd thrown caution and recent experience to the winds just for the opportunity to catch Harry and Hermione in a compromising position and have irrefutable proof besides!
And what did she get out of it?
A bruised back, a major headache, and a picture of Crookshanks and Mrs. Norris in flagrante delicto.
She gave an involuntary shudder as the memory of what happened filled her mind-the brief flash of victory at having found Harry and Hermione's snogging spot but the feeling of triumph was quickly replaced by undiluted fear as the angry eyes met her own even as her brain belatedly recognized the orange furball that was either a large cat or a small tiger glaring at her from atop the scrawny, dust-colored cat-
And she was throwing her arms up in a defensive posture as the half-Kneazle leaped, spitting angrily as his claws raked her arms even as Mrs. Norris was fleeing the scene, and Crookshanks used her as a launch pad to chase after his dust-colored inamorata, throwing her back and unable to keep her head from hitting the cold stone floor hard enough to make her see stars before she blacked out…
She shook her head in exasperation. After everything that had happened today… why should she count herself lucky? Almost everyone involved with Harry and Hermione had taken a hit today: the boys had gotten it twice… Hermione's roommates blasted by an angry Hermione when they'd tried to defend their boyfriends… Ron still in the Hospital Wing under the ministrations of Luna…
She'd escaped relatively unscathed until Crookshanks launched himself at her-and she did deserve it, she knew. After all, how would she feel if someone had disturbed her in the middle of snogging her boyfriend-although, technically, Crookshanks wasn't snogging Mrs. Norris…
She saw Colin scampering into their Common Room like a frightened rabbit, and she gave an evil smirk as she charged in after him-only to skid to a halt, almost running over the frozen-in-his-tracks wizard, and found herself screeching in surprise, "WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING HERE?"-causing the two people sleeping on a couch to jump up as if electrocuted-
*
Hermione bolted upright, eyes blinking in the flickering light of the fireplace as she gathered her scattered wits, her sudden movement startling the dozing Harry Potter who leaped to his feet in alarm, wand out and myopic eyes blinking around him, searching for the threat…
"HARRY! IT'S LATE… IT'S AFTER CURFEW AND WE'RE OUT OF BOUNDS! OH, WE'RE GOING TO BE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE… HOW CAN YOU DO THIS… I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS… WE'LL PROBABLY GET DETENTION AND GET DOCKED FIFTY POINTS AND, AND… OH, NO-I'M A PREFECT! MCGONAGALL WILL SUSPEND ME-WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING ABOUT?"
Harry had quietly Summoned his glasses when Hermione bolted from the couch and was currently engrossed in looking at her, a goofy grin on his face as she paced around the room, obliviously ranting away-his mind suddenly assaulted by the memory of an eleven-year old witch wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown, waiting for him in the darkness of an empty Common Room to try and persuade him from proceeding with his midnight duel with Malfoy…
And his grin grew wider as he watched her pacing in front of the fireplace, getting herself worked up and he could hear her eleven-year old voice in his head raving away, "Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells-"
She'll never change, he thought to himself… she'll always be the same bossy, anal-retentive, obsessive-compulsive Hermione that he knew and loved and-in this moment, he knew that he would never have her any other way. Even then, he realized… even then when he could only think of her as an annoying little swot, she had been looking out for him-
He blinked when he realized that she was standing over him, hands on her hips, death-glare in full force and he jumped to his feet and engulfed her in an embrace to rival the one she gave him when he first showed up at Grimmauld, and swung her around even as he kissed her face again and again, murmuring "thank you… I never really thanked you for watching out for me…"
To say that Hermione was surprised is an understatement-she had totally expected Harry to revert to habit and hide under the couch at her ranting, but she found herself struggling to breath against the tight grip he had around her. She started beating on his back with her small fists instinctively-but that was quickly overcome as she felt his lips darting all over her face and another, stronger instinct took over her higher brain functions and her hands became entangled in his hair, holding him steady for a brief moment before her lips crashed into his, stopping his disjointed mumbling as they once again lost themselves in each other…
Soon enough, Hermione's brain started to function and she pulled away… for a moment, it seemed that Harry had no intention of letting her go-but their mouths separated with an audible `POP!'-and they were staring at each other, greens caressing and comforting browns…
"Harry," Hermione murmured-but stopped as he placed his chin on top of her head and she found herself resting her face against his chest, listening to his rapidly beating heart seem to slow down into a smooth, rhythmic tempo.
"Hermione…" She knew he was smiling at her and she tried to look up at him, but stopped as his soft voice continued. "First of all, how would Professor McGonagall know that we're not in our dormitories right now? She doesn't go charging into Gryffindor Tower unless she has an announcement to make-or a Firebolt to confiscate."
Hermione blushed at his gentle reminder of their third year fiasco, and looked away-and then felt Harry's warm hands on her, lifting her face to meet his twinkling eyes. "Second, do you think that our dorm-mates would go to McGonagall to tell her that we are not in our dormitories like all good Gryffindors should be?"
She bit her lip at the sly reminder of the havoc she'd caused earlier-and felt Harry's fingers smoothing down the frowning muscles of her forehead and she gave him a tremulous smile-and Harry placed a finger on her lips. "On the one hand, I doubt that Professor McGonagall would have heard of what happened, officially, that is."
She turned puzzled eyes on him and he smiled at her expression. "Honestly, Hermione-do you really think that Lavender or Parvati would be filing charges against you for hexing Dean, Seamus and Neville after what they did to us?"
Hermione bit her lip as she stifled a sudden giggle-and Harry drew her closer to him again as he continued, "The boys better pray that their girlfriends don't hex them for what they did in Hagrid's hut."
She tightened her arms around him as she whispered, "Thanks, Harry"-and smiled to herself as she felt his lips burrowing into her hair. She felt him tugging her towards the couch once again but she resisted-much as she was enjoying herself, she was still a Prefect, and with that title came certain responsibilities.
"So what do we do now?" She looked up to see his eyes giving a suggestive wiggle and a lascivious leer--"Harry!"
"Well, what do you propose, Miss Granger? As you pointed out, it's already past curfew; we're out of bounds without the Marauders' Map or the invisibility cloak… do you fancy your chances of sneaking around and risk getting caught by Filch?"
She bit her lip as she pondered the question-and shook her head. Harry was right, she realized-better to stay hidden here, rather than risk getting caught by Filch which would ensure that she would lose her Prefect badge for being out of bounds. And, while she could use the badge to explain why she was outside her Common Room, there was no way to explain what Harry was doing with her.
"All right, Harry-I hate to say this, but you're making sense."
"Yes!" She glanced at him from behind her curtain of hair, and a totally evil smirk came over her face as she watched Harry dancing around the couch, pumping his hands in the air at his victory.
"We may as well make ourselves comfortable, Harry… and make good use of the time." She planted a hand on Harry's chest as he was reaching for her, and stopped herself from laughing out loud at the surprised expression on his face. With a nonchalant air, she continued, "We might as well start working, Harry-we have that essay for Professor Flitwick and the assignment for Professor Lupin…"
"Hermione!" The aggrieved, distressed and hurt tone of his voice cut into her soul, and it took all that she had to maintain a puzzled expression as she looked into his suddenly crestfallen, deflated and disconsolate face.
"Yes, Harry?"
Whatever reply he was about to make disappeared as, with a soft `pop,' several thick volumes appeared on the table in front of them-and Hermione had to bite her lip hard to stop herself from laughing as Harry slumped wearily on the couch beside her. She held on for a few more seconds, secretly pleased as she watched him absently conjure parchment, quill and ink with a few waves of his wand, before saying, "On the other hand, Flitwick's essay isn't due `til next week…"
She hadn't even finished her thought when she felt Harry launching himself at her; laughing, she rolled off the couch but was caught before she could escape-and the two were soon engaged in a vicious tickle war which they both knew would have only one conclusion…
*
"Why don't you ask your boyfriend what we're doing here, Miss Ginny?"
"Cindy!" The harsh whisper from Carolyn stopped Ginny from launching a hex at the other girl; before she could say a word, Cindy slumped back on the couch, murmuring an apology to the red-headed witch-to which she responded in kind: "I'm sorry, Cindy… I guess I'm just all wound up from everything that's been happening…" Ginny punctuated her statement with a huge sigh and a major wince as she rotated her still-sore head-an action which caught the attention of the Terrible Two, who quickly jumped up and led her to the couch. She noticed Cindy racing up the stairs to their dormitories as Carolyn solicitously propped cushions behind her; within seconds, Cindy was back with a goblet of water which she gratefully drank.
"What happened, Miss Ginny?"
She opened her mind to glare around, and gritted her teeth in frustration as she realized that Colin, the perverted paparazzi, had scampered off to his dormitory-and undoubtedly barricaded himself in from her wrath. Instead of answering the question posed, however, she asked one of her own: "What does Neville have to do with this?"
"Neville?"
Ooops!, she thought to herself-I must really be groggy, and she quickly took a leaf from Hermione's book and glared at the two children who were sitting on the couch with her. With an audible gulp, Carolyn started explaining: "Actually, it was Dean, Miss Ginny-"
"He was practically begging us to stay here and watch the stairs…" Cindy continued.
"And Seamus and Neville were helping him beg…"
"It was actually quite absurd-Dean was promising that he'll paint our portraits-"
"Seamus swearing that he'll put in a good word with Professor Snape for us…"
"Neville pledging that he'll tend Mum's rose garden this summer-"
"Wait, wait! Stop a minute, girls!" Cindy and Carolyn immediately shut up as Ginny rubbed her aching head. "What is this all-"
The red-headed witch suddenly stopped and looked around her-finally realizing that the couch they were occupying was actually blocking the stairs leading to the boy's dormitories-and she understood why the two, in their PJs and bathrobes, were sleeping on the couch.
"They haven't shown up yet, have they?" she asked, and the two young girls shook their heads. She rolled her eyes at the inanities of the sixth year boys as she continued, "What made them think that you'll be able to stop Harry when he comes in?"
"They said we're just insurance, Miss Ginny-"
"We're supposed to try and calm down Sir Harry and Miss Hermione when they came in…"
"Being their Spawn and all-"
"But they had something else in mind in case Sir Harry wouldn't listen to reason."
Ginny's confused "Huh?" was met by a shrug.
"I think they barricaded their room, Miss Ginny-Dean borrowed a couple of broomsticks from Miss Katie… if worse comes to worse, they were planning to fly out the windows and hide out with Hagrid until it was safe to come back."
Ginny laid her pounding head on the couch, murmuring, "Idiots!" to herself. Didn't they realize that complicated and convoluted plots never worked? If they'd just sat down with Harry for a man-to-man discussion, rather than resorting to "visual aids"-
"Are you all right, Miss Ginny?"
She blinked open her eyes to the concerned looks of the two young girls, and sighed. With an effort, she stood up-Cindy and Carolyn on either side helping her up. "Let's go to sleep, girls… I don't think the boys will have to worry about anything tonight."
"What do you mean, Miss Ginny?"
"Wherever they are, I somehow doubt they'll be doing much sleeping tonight."
"Oh."
"Ewww!"
*
On an oversized but comfortable couch in a room on the same floor but at the other side of the castle, Hermione blinked her eyes open-and smiled as she realized that she was lying on her side, arms and legs wrapped around an enormous pillow that Harry had conjured for her. Her smile grew broader as she felt a comforting warmth against her back-and realized that her head was resting on Harry's arm, even as he had his other arm resting comfortably around her waist.
As she felt herself drifting back to sleep, she felt lips pressing on her head and a soft whisper, "Good night, love… pleasant dreams."
She entwined her fingers with the hand on her waist before lifting it and brushing his hand lightly with her lips. "Good night, Harry. I love you."
"Love you, `Mione."
***
Author's Notes: One final chapter to go… and this tale will be done. :D
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