The first ray of sunshine hit Harry square in the face. To his surprise he was hugging his pillow close. He was pissed that the sun woke him so early and the terrible itch of his pajamas from dried sweat, but those things couldn't ruin the good mood he woke up in. He trundled off towards the bathroom for a long shower. Whether it was going to be a hot or cold one, he hadn't decided yet.
An hour later he trotted into the kitchen in jeans and an old t-shirt with his hair still wet. He had a large grin on his face as he greeted everyone with a pleasant "Good Morning!" He grabbed a plate of food and sat across from Hermione.
"Beautiful morning, isn't it?" he asked directly towards her.
"Yes it is Harry. A most pleasant morning at that," she said. A bright smile appeared on her face. Ginny let out a small giggle from her side.
His food slowly disappeared along with his good mood and smile. He kept looking over at the empty chair at the table, the chair that no one ever sat in anymore, Sirius' chair. He had done an enormous amount of writing in the journal yesterday, but it all had tap-danced around the subject of Sirius. It was like a piercing weight on his heart and he was getting tired of it. He had been in a very good mood when he woke up and it was completely drained out of him before he even finished breakfast. He was determined to do everything in his power not to let it happen again. He was determined to write again today, about Sirius, the prophecy, and his fear of losing more of the people he cared about.
He looked up at Hermione. She looked back at him, turbulent emotion in her eyes. She seemed to be confused and worried about his sudden mood swing. It hurt him to see her like this, as he was often the cause of it. He wanted to reach across the table to kiss her, hold her, and make her feel better. That wasn't an option, so he excused himself and quickly went upstairs.
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Harry paced back and forth in the small circular room, chewing his fingernail and muttering under his breath. He had been trying to write for several hours now and he had a problem. He had some kind of writer's block, nothing wanted to come out at all. He had written about so much inconsequential stuff yesterday, it flowed out of him like a stream. Today he was determined to put more serious matters that were bothering him on paper, but he had seized up. He couldn't find the words, he was lost as where to start and he had grown even more frustrated.
He heard someone clearing their throat and looked up. She was standing at the top of the stairs looking at him. She glanced over to the desk, his journal open. She walked over to the desk and picked the book up, flipping through a few pages.
"Have you written anything or are you just not ready to share?" she asked with concern in her voice.
"I've written some." He paused. "What are you doing up here?"
"I just thought you might like some company."
"Thank you all the same, but I'd actually rather that you left," he said a bit more tersely than he meant to.
"I promise I'll stay out of the way. I'll just sit on the window sill and be quiet," she almost pleaded.
He almost caved in. He wanted her there with him, but her presence would only distract him from the task he set upon himself. He closed his eyes, bowed his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I can't take you-I don't want to be around you Hermione," he said without raising his head.
"Harry..." she said, her voice begging.
He looked up at her. Her eyes were searching his. Harry had seen that look on her face before, when she desperately wanted to go look something up in a book, but knew that the library's collection did not contain the answer she needed.
"And don't come up here again."
"Harry... I... I..."
He saw her eyes start to well with tears and frustration. Before she said anything else, she turned around and ran down the stairs. He leaned against the wall and sunk to the floor.
"Brilliant Potter, just brilliant."
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Harry's Occulmency lesson that night went no better. Snape had managed to push through Harry's defenses every attempt, even though it was harder and took longer. Snape made it no small secret that he took great pleasure in the thought that Harry's earlier successes at blocking his probes were a fluke. Snape had only called it a night when Harry head started splitting. Harry was sure it was revenge for the last lesson.
"Potter, you either haven't been practicing like I told you, or letting your emotions interfere with your concentration, or more probably, both." Snape closed up his bag with a satisfied smirk on his lips and glided out the room.
Harry trudged up to his room and collapsed on the bed. Wrapping the sheets around him, he sought the comfort of dreams. Concentrating on the face of the person he wanted wrapped around him like his sheets, he let himself dissolve into the image of her gorgeous brown eyes.
<>
Books were everywhere he looked, bathed in a golden glow from the lamps scattered among the wooden bookshelves. The silence unnerved him. The smell of dust and musty books was so strong that it nearly made Harry sneeze. He ran his fingers along the books closest to him, feeling the soft leather covers of the well used tomes. They were a mixture of magic and muggle books, he recognized most of the titles but hadn't read a single volume.
The library he found himself in was similar to the one at Hogwart's, but much bigger. He began to wander around looking for someone. He noticed that he hadn't seen a single study table, reading chair, or info desk. After walking for several minutes, he caught a glimpse of something in the back corner. As he approached he found a very familiar sight, a bushy head of chestnut hair leaned over one of many books that surrounded her, scribbling notes down at the only table. When he got closer he noticed that most of the books were one-of-a-kind manuscripts, with neat handwriting inside.
"What are you researching now Hermione?"
Startled, she looked up at Harry and quickly closed the book she was reading.
"How do you always know where to find me?" she asked.
"I just know you, that's all," Harry said as he sat in the chair that he hadn't noticed across the table from her. "And before you ask, no you're not just being predictable. You still find ways to surprise me on a regular basis."
Hermione stood there with her mouth open for a second. When she finally was able to speak, she said "As do you, Harry."
"You never answered my question. What are you researching?"
She bit her bottom lip for a moment. 'Merlin, she's adorable when she does that', Harry thought.
"I've got conflicting information about something, and I've been trying to sort out the truth," she finally answered.
"Ah, I see."
They fell into an awkward silence.
Seeming to read his mind, she said "You can help me, if you want."
Before he knew what he was doing, he nodded his head in reply. He looked up into her eyes and saw that they were full of confusion and hope.
"I want you to answer some questions for me truthfully. Do you think you can do that?" she asked.
"I'll give it a try."
"What do guys like in a girl?"
"Most guys want some good looking girl that'll snog with them. They want a girl with big boobs, long hair, longer legs, and a model's face. But they'll settle for less if she gives them what they want. I guess all guys are different though. Why do you want to know?" Harry didn't think he wanted to know, and was blushing fiercely.
"I told you, I've got conflicting information." She paused. "I noticed you said 'they.' So what do you want in a girl Harry?" She leaned forward in her chair waiting for the answer.
"I want someone who likes me for me, not the famous Boy-Who-Lived. I want someone who is loyal, honest, and caring. I want someone who wants to hold me in her arms, who's first thought in the morning is me, who's last thought at night is me. I want someone who loves me unconditionally, just as I love her." This was starting to make Harry very uncomfortable.
"Don't you want a girl with big boobs? Or the rest of that stuff?" she asked, cocking her head.
"I've learned that beauty is very subjective. I see beauty where others don't." He noticed she had raised an eyebrow at this, so he continued. "Just like Hagrid thinks a dragon, or a three-headed dog can make great pets, I can see the beauty of say... the Shrieking Shack. It may be ugly to the rest of the world, but knowing what it really is, a place where friends stood by each other in the worst of times, it has it's own unique beauty."
"So, is Cho beautiful Harry?"
"She's nice to look at, but not beautiful."
"Do you still like her?"
"No, I'm not sure if I ever really did."
He felt this dream was out of his control. He didn't like this. He hated talking about his feelings. He rather this be another dream like last night. No thought required, no interrogation, just pleasure. His subconscious must have manifested as Hermione, probably to make him feel guilty about last night and so it could bludger the truth out of him.
"Am I beautiful?" she squeaked out.
He looked her right in the eye, and saw the fear. He knew she didn't think herself as beautiful, or even pretty. She had thought the best she could be considered is a plain jane. Without breaking eye contact he simply said, "You are the most beautiful person I know Hermione, on the outside as well as in. And don't let any mirror tell you otherwise."
"What are your feelings toward me Harry?" she asked calmly.
"You are my best friend, so of course I care about you," he answered, lowering his eyes.
"How do you really feel about me?" she asked sternly, clearly not believing him. He couldn't blame her for it had been a lame reply.
He looked up into her eyes. He could feel them boring into his soul searching for the answers he wasn't ready to tell her.
"I love you," he replied meekly, feeling like he had just been given Veritaserum.
"How long have you felt this way? How long have you known?" she asked slowly.
He couldn't help it. He was powerless. His feelings had been building up for so long, that they came tumbling out his mouth like a long practiced speech.
"The very first day we met on the Hogwart's Express, you obviously knew who I was, as did the rest of the wizarding world, but you didn't let that get in the way of getting to know the scared and awe struck little boy I was. For that I gladly became your friend. By the end of that year, after you followed me into the bowels of Hogwart's and helped me prevent Voldermort from obtaining the Philosopher's Stone, I knew we had become and would always be good friends.
"Then in the second year, when everyone thought that I was the one unleashing a monster on the students, especially after I unknowingly spoke parseltongue in front of most of the school, you stuck by my side. You even risked the thing you held most dear, school, to help me when you brewed the polyjuice potion. After you were petrified trying to deliver me the answers we sought, I realized how much I cared for you then and that our bond was stronger than friends, it was as close as family.
"Third year is when I started to get confused. I became ever more concerned about you each day that I watched you working yourself to death, not knowing the complete truth of what you were doing. Even so, when the rush of events happened at the end of the year, you were once again by my side. I knew then that the bond between us could never be broken. When you wrapped your arms around my waist as we rode Buckbeak, I felt something stir inside of me, something I wasn't prepared for. I wanted to be more than just your friend. I felt an attraction towards you stronger than I had ever felt for any girl before. I knew it was more than just platonic love, because I didn't feel any of it in the thankful embrace from Ginny when I saved her from Riddle. But you were my best friend and some part of my brain told me it was wrong, like having a crush on a sister.
"When fourth year started, I tried to force myself to like someone else, and it was Cho that I settled on, as she was widely considered to be desirable and some people thought I already liked her. But no matter how hard I tried I just didn't feel the same way about her as I did for you. I know that I was only fooling myself in thinking I could. Then Yule Ball came, when I saw you with Krum I was angry and jealous, but I had lost my chance by not asking you when I wanted to so badly.
"Then the kiss on the cheek you gave me at King's Cross at the end of that year tore me in two. It took every fiber in my being not to grab you and kiss you back. That part of my brain was still telling me that my affections for you was wrong, so I re-doubled my efforts to shift those feeling from you onto Cho. Valentine's Day fifth year just proved I wasn't up to the task of keeping my mind on any other girl while I secretly longed for you.
"When we went to the Ministry, you were once again by my side. It amazed me how many times you have been there for me when everyone was against me, when it meant breaking the rules, when no one believed me, when I was being a bastard, and even when you knew that I was rushing into a potentially lethal situation before thinking.
"In the few short moments between the time you where hit with that curse and when Neville told me you had a pulse, I felt my willpower and my very life slipping away. It was then that I had an epiphany, that voice in my head was wrong. Just because you were my best friend, a relationship that is as close as family and can never be broken, my attraction to you was not wrong, but a natural progression.
"The events of that night left me with a dilemma. I had finally thrown off the shackles that prevented me from being honest about my feelings about you. But, if I confessed my love for you, Voldermort would have even more reason to try to use you to get to me. As this is the last thing I want, I kept my feelings for you to myself. So I willingly accepted the fact that you would never know of my love, that I would never know the taste of your lips, if it meant you would live. I decided that I would kill Voldermort, not for the world, not for Dumbledore, not even for myself, but for you. I love you Hermione. I love you with all my being. I would die for you. So, I die a little each day so you stay safe."
He lowered his eyes back to the table. He felt emotionally spent. He knew had finally fully expressed his feelings for Hermione.
He was brought out of his thoughts when Hermione grabbed him by his shirt collar and pulled him across the table into a kiss. He closed his eyes and went along with it. Her tongue flickered across his lips demanding entrance, which he readily gave. She broke the kiss long enough to sweep every book from the table with her arm, climb up and pull Harry back down on top of her.
His mouth found her neck and planted urgent kisses and gentle nibble upwards. He softly tugged on her earlobe with his teeth, eliciting a moan from her. His hands went to the front of her robes and began to undo them. His mouth followed the path made by the separating fabric. He was halfway down her chest before he realized that she had nothing on under her robes. He quickened his pace to remove the robes from her body. He threw her robe onto the floor and stared in awe at her naked body spread out for him on the table. He threw off his robe, joining it with her robe on the floor. To his shock, he had nothing under his either.
Not letting himself dwell on that thought long, he quickly brought all his attention back to the beautiful girl waiting for him. He resumed his position on top of her and brought his hands to her supple breasts. He watched as her nipples hardened under his thumbs. He brought his mouth back down on hers. The kiss was fierce and passionate. He felt her hands slid from his neck down his back, stopping on his bare ass, and pull him closer urging him to enter her. He shifted so he was ready to enter her, feeling her hips impatiently shift back and forth, waiting for his flesh to join hers in a rhythmic dance.
He held himself still for a few seconds, relishing the obvious desire in her wiggling form, before he plunged into her dripping wet sex. She let out a gasp and arched her back. Soon they were in a comfortable rhythm. He was enjoying the feel of his flesh slapping against hers. Her heels dug into his back, urging him to pump harder and deeper. He felt her body start to tense around him. Then her sudden tremor sent him over the edge as he felt himself burst inside of her. After a moment he put his head on her chest, closed his eyes, and just listened to her heart beat with her arms wrapped around him.