I woke early this morning, the dorm is peaceful in the way it only is when everyone is still sleeping and it's absolutely silent and everything is still. I was pleasantly surprised to feel nothing upon waking. I'm at peace with everything and so blissfully happy that upon waking I felt nothing. And then reality crashes into me and I remember last night and a wave of emotion washes over me. I recall the feeling of holding Hermione in my arms when she realized that she loves me, and how it felt to sit outside on the step and hold her close when, for several long minutes, everything was right with the world and we were untouchable.
When we finally wandered back inside, the ball was over and everyone had disappeared for the night (most were likely passed out in various locations throughout the castle or sleeping off the night in their beds). The halls were deserted and completely silent as Hermione and I made our way to Gryffindor Tower, holding hands and not speaking. I just want to touch her all the time (actually, I've always wanted to touch her all the time) and just be near her (ditto). We didn't talk for the rest of night. When we reached the common room I sat on the sofa and she fitted herself against my side, her head resting in the crook of my shoulder (we fit perfectly together, like our bodies were made for each other, which didn't at all surprise me) and her arm across my middle, our joined hands rested on my stomach and I had my arm around her shoulders holding her tight. We stayed there until we couldn't stay awake any longer and then reluctantly parted, I really didn't want to leave her (I happily noted that she didn't seem to be too keen on the idea either).
I find that I can't wait to see her and that I'm dying to talk to her (about everything and anything, it doesn't really matter, I just want to hear her voice), but when I look the clock on the dorm wall I see that it's still too early for her to be up, she probably won't be rising for another half hour, maybe longer consider how late we were up last night. Still, I throw back the covers and get out of bed deciding that even if I can't be with her yet at least I can surround myself with her presence. So I pull on my dressing robe and slip out of the room to go downstairs and sit in her corner and wait impatiently for her to join me.
I'm both surprised and not at all surprised to find her sitting in her chair with a steaming mug of, what I assume is, cocoa in her hands and another on the table in front of her as if she was expecting me. Which, I decide, maybe she was since she knows me better than I know myself so it wouldn't be a great shock to learn that she knew I would be up so early. I stop at the foot of the stairs to just watch her for a little while before she notices me there. I believe I've mentioned before how much I love to watch her, aside from Quidditch and actually being with her, I think it may be my favourite activity. She's so beautiful. I've searched her over so many times for a flaw, but I've never found one. In my eyes, Hermione is perfection. And she's mine, finally, and that thought is almost enough to blow my mind.
Remembering last night, I can't believe how well I handled it, especially considering that I was a bumbling idiot while executing my plans. I didn't even say anything embarrassing last night, which is quite the feat in itself. I find it endlessly amazing that a simple look from her can turn me into a bumbling idiot.
She's noticed that I'm here and she looks at me with a small, sweet smile on her lips (there's that pause that my heart always takes when she smiles, I'm finally getting used to it) and such a welcoming/happy/loving look in her eyes that I fear I may melt. Luckily I don't. I attempt to take a step towards her, but don't release the handrail until I'm sure that my legs are in full working order. I slowly make my way over to her and sit in my chair (I carefully situated it to be close enough to hers that I can comfortably look at her, feel the heat from her body, and smell her and, like Hermione's chair, I've charmed mine to shock anyone who sits in it other than me… and Hermione of course). She's still smiling at me and I worry that if she doesn't stop I'll go into cardiac arrest (what a great way to go), but quickly decide that I don't care if I do because I never want her to stop smiling, especially if it's me she's smiling at. She hands me my mug of cocoa and I smile my thanks, and we sit back in our chairs at the same time and just relax in each other's company.
Several minutes pass before I realize that, though I was dying to talk to her when I came down, we have yet to say a word to each other. I look over at her with the intention of saying something-I don't know what-but she smiles at me and reaches over to take my hand and my mind is suddenly a blank (something else I've grown used to in the past two years). We sit in silence, holding hands, drinking cocoa and watching the fire and it's nearly as romantic as it was last night on the step. And again she's the first one to talk.
"Good morning, Harry." It's so simple and it's something that I've heard her say every single morning since I came here seven years ago, but it's the sweetest thing I've ever heard.
"Good morning, Hermione." I stroke the back of her hand with my thumb and she gives my fingers a brief squeeze and it's all so natural.
I feel her eyes on me and I turn my head to meet her gaze and everything else just fades away into oblivion and we're the only two people in the world (my world).
"Did you sleep well?"
I nod. I want to tell her how much I love her and I want to tell her that she's so beautiful and so perfect that it makes me want to cry, but now isn't the right time. That time will come, but it's not in the common room.
We sit silently again and I can't stop thinking about how badly I want to take her out and show her off and shout to the world that she's mine and that every other bloke out there has missed out on the greatest thing that life can offer: Hermione's love. And even thought it's Sunday and Sunday isn't really a date day, I decide that I want to take her out, now, today (one of the many perks of being a seventh year, we can go to Hogsmeade on any weekend we please). I want to spend the day with her and only her.
"Hermione," she turns to meet my gaze with that soft smile and I almost forget what I was going to say. "Would you like to go out with me today?"
I watch as her whole body relaxes and she starts to laugh (not the side-splitting kind, but the soft, sexy, breathless kind) and I wonder what's so funny about me asking her on a date and then she looks at me again and she's still laughing and she says: "Goodness, Harry, I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever ask."
I start to smile and I wonder what is going on in her head that she thinks I would go through the trouble of hiding notes, carrying her bag, asking her to the dance, and trying to fulfill her heart's every desire and not ask her out on a date.
"Is that a yes then?"
"It's more like a 'what are we waiting for, let's get out of here.'" She answers and I jump to my feet and pull her out of her chair.
"Go get dressed and I'll meet you back here in thirty minutes." I tell her and put her hands on her hips to guide her to the stairs.
We jog up the steps (my hands on her hips the whole way. I love that I can touch her now) and separate at the top to go to our dorms and my heart is pounding and I feel like laughing and I know that she feels the same because I can hear her giggling on the way to her room. Sweet, Merlin, I love that woman.
* * *
It's been just over a half hour since I sent Hermione to get dressed (I've been ready and pacing the common room for twenty-five minutes) and I'm wondering what's taking her so long. Then I hear her door open and I hurry to the foot of the stairs with her cloak in hand, ready for her, so I can watch her come down and the minute I see her I completely forget that I've been waiting for twenty-five minutes. She dressed in jeans and a green sweater and I don't think she's ever looked better. When she gets to the foot of the stairs, I can't help myself, I pull her to me and wrap my arms around her in a tight hug, she's a little surprised, but she quickly puts her arms around my shoulders. Her body's so warm and soft against me that I never want to let her go. All too soon, she pulls away, but the look that she gives me lets me know that she'll be back in my arms soon and there will be more than just hugging on the menu (good god I think the waiting will give me a stroke).
I put her cloak around her, carefully close the clasp at her throat and take her hand in mine to lead her from the common room. She slides her fingers through mine and I bring her hand to my lips to kiss it and, as I do this, I realize that this is the first time that my lips have ever (purposefully) touched her skin so I do it again.
The castle is quiet as everyone is still sleeping and it's just like it was last night, only now we've the whole day ahead of us to enjoy and to be together. We walk into a wall of cold air when we leave the castle and the contrast between the warm castle and the cold day is so strong that I almost want to go back in, but we continue on. Rather than perform a warming charm, I pull Hermione close against me (because, really, is there any better way to stay warm than huddling together) and she slips her arm under my cloak and around my waist. I can feel her shiver against me and as much as I like my method of trying to stay warm, I'd much rather Hermione be comfortable and, since that's very much in my power, I do cast the warming charm and am quite happy when Hermione presses a kiss to my shoulder and huddles closer to me anyway.
* * *
Several hours later (after a wonderful day of window shopping, actual shopping, and playful flirting) we're seated in the Leaky Cauldron enjoying warm butterbeer.
"I don't know how you managed it, Harry."
Well, that was a little out of the blue.
"How I managed what?"
"You knew how you felt about me for two years. I look back now and I just can't understand how you dealt with it. I mean, if it were me, I would've told you years ago."
I shrug. "I wanted to. I almost did tell you a few times, but I knew that it would never work." I set down my bottle and turn to look at her straight on. "I knew that if I pushed you, you'd run the other way and I also knew that if I tried to make you see it, we wouldn't work. It had to been you were ready."
"So, why now? What made pushing me now okay?"
I grin at her. "You were just taking too bloody long. We're almost done school and I didn't want to risk losing you when we get out there and start careers. So, I figured I'd give you a gentle push in the right direction and if that didn't work I'd have to hit you over the head with it. Figuratively, of course."
She nods thoughtfully. "And that would be where Plan C came into play?"
I spit out the butterbeer I'd just sipped (I'm quite the catch, I must say. I'm just all manners) and look at her like she's just asked if I'd like to see Malfoy's knickers with him in them.
"W-what?"
Her grin bears a striking resemblance to that of the Cheshire cat (she made me watch that movie in sixth year, it's always been one her favourites… and one of mine since that wonderful night).
"You know, Plan C. I believe it entailed snogging me and praying that I didn't hex you for it."
"Uh, I-uh-I." Oh, so I'm back to that. Fantastic, I so missed stammering incoherently.
She leans forward over the table conspiratorially and signals for me to do the same. She reaches across the table and takes my hand in hers, I briefly wonder if my hand is shaking. She's looking at our hands and I notice that she's not grinning anymore; in fact she looks very serious. I wonder if I'm in trouble.
"I just wanted to say," she whispers so quietly that I have to strain to hear her. "That I won't hex you," her eyes lift to look into mine and my brain seems to have short-circuited. "You know, in case you do decide to go ahead with Plan C."
My heart is hammering in my chest. Did she just say what I think she just said? Because I think she just gave me the go ahead to snog her. I'm still staring at her (I probably look like my brain has leaked out my ear and I think that maybe it has) and I'm pretty sure that I must have heard her wrong. But then she gives me the sexiest look I have ever seen and she brings my hand to her lips and nips my knuckles, soothing them with a kiss. And I know that I heard her right and she's the sexiest thing I've ever seen and there's no way that I can get up from this table without horribly embarrassing myself and her, too, probably. So, I choose to continue to stare at her in utter shock (and not only because it's the only thing that I seem capable of at the moment).
She's starting to look unsure, like she's afraid that maybe she's said something horribly wrong (daft woman, like telling me that I'm allowed to snog you as much as I like could ever be the wrong thing to say) and I think maybe I should say something.
"Oh, uh, alright, then." That was bloody brilliant.
She looks a little disappointed, which, I admit, makes me a little happy because it means that maybe she wants to snog me as much as I want to snog her. But I don't really think that's possible because I've been waiting two years to snog her and she's not yet spent twenty-four hours waiting. Then again, she has, she's spent just as long waiting as I have, she just didn't know it. I decide that I really should put us both out of our misery. Today. But the Leaky Cauldron really isn't the ideal place for a spot of romantic snogging, so we'll just have to suffer a little longer.
I glance out the window and notice that it's getting pretty dark out there and it's started to snow rather hard (can it snow hard? Really, when you think about it, it's not like snowflakes are really that heavy. Whereas rain can actually hurt, snow never does. Interesting). The clock on the wall reads eight o'clock and I think that maybe we should head back to Hogwarts, seeing as we've been in Hogsmeade since early this morning and we didn't tell anyone where we were going (Voldemort is dead, but the hundreds of other people who want me dead are not).
I finish my butterbeer with one big swallow. "We should get back."
Hermione looks up in surprise (she can't really think that I want this day to end, can she), but finishes her butterbeer and gathers her cloak. I pick up our bags (her bags, my bag-singular) and wait for her to get her cloak on and adjusted just right. I follow her out of the Leaky Cauldron and cast two charms once we're outside, one to keep us warm and the other to keep the snow off us, and we head towards school.
Hermione's walking with her head down and her hands in her pockets and she looks rather dejected and I just can't have that, so I reach out and tug at her wrist until she pulls her hand from her pocket and I can take it in mine.
"Did you have a good day?" I ask her, trying to draw her back to me and out of whatever thoughts she's thinking that are making her look so sad.
"Oh, yes, it was wonderful. Thank you."
I can't help but smile at her. "Good, I'm glad."
She doesn't seem very interested in talking, so I leave her to her thoughts, promising myself that I'll cheer her up once we're back at the castle. Besides, I've a few things I'd like to think over myself, like when would be the best time to snog her senseless tonight. We can't very well do it in the common room as everyone will be there and they'll all watch us and cheer, I'm sure (bunch of immature gits). There's always her room. She is Headgirl and, as such, she has her very own private room with a very comfortable couch that, I recall thinking on several occasions, would be the perfect place for an extended snog session. I think that's a brilliant idea. After all, I will have to go to her room to drop off her bags, maybe I just won't leave (ever). What's she going to do, throw me out? (Yeah, I'd like to see her manage that with my tongue in her mouth). Excellent, Plan C is going into action risk free as she said she wouldn't hex me for it.
I feel Hermione stop beside me and realize that we're standing at the castle doors and, if I hadn't returned to earth, I would've walked smack into the heavy oak doors. I look around me and realize that it really is quite a beautiful night and we are all alone and maybe I don't need to wait until we get to her room. I see her reaching to pull the doors open and decide that just won't do. I set our bags down and tug her hand, pulling her towards me. She's looking at me, trying to figure what I'm up to. I move my free hand up and cradle her soft cheek as I slowly lean down to (finally) kiss her.
"Harry," she breaths just before out lips touch and holy, sweet Merlin. I must have died and gone to heaven because nothing on earth could ever be so good as this. She tastes like butterbeer, chocolate, and Hermione and I've never tasted anything like it before, but I decide that it's the best taste in the world and I've just got to keep tasting if for the rest of my life because I could never do without it. I wonder how I've survived 17 years without tasting her and how I am going to make it through the times when I can't be kissing her, which I really hope are few and far between. Right here and now I decide that any time spent not kissing Hermione will be a colossal waste of time and I really wish that I never had to breath again. Maybe there's a way around that, I am, after all, dating (oh, I like that) the smartest witch at Hogwarts and if any one can find an alternative to breathing it would be her.
All too soon, she's pulling away from me and I feel like whimpering and I think maybe I do a little. I wait for a few moments, thinking that she's just taking a breath and we'll be kissing again in no time. It's been several seconds now and I finally open my eyes to see her glaring at someone over my shoulder and now I hear the whooping and cheering that's drawn her attention. I turn to look and there's Ron, Seamus, and Dean laughing and cheering and applauding. Feeling spontaneous and deliriously happy, I decide to give them a little show. I pull Hermione hard against me, cover her mouth with mine and dip her back over my arm, snogging her for all I'm worth and fervently hoping that I won't regret it later.
I feel her tongue against my lips and forget about our audience as I open my mouth to her. Her tongue slips past my lips and… wow. I wonder where she learned to kiss like this, but I don't dare ask because then I'd have to go kill the bastard. I hope that she learned it from one of her books because I don't think I can deal with the thought that she's kissed other blokes, especially since I haven't kissed anyone since Cho Chang because I knew that, one day, I'd be right here doing this with Hermione and doing this with anyone else would have blasphemous to me.
I feel something hard hit my back and the damn thing jolts me back to reality. I stand up straight, bringing Hermione with me, and regretfully pull away from her wonderful mouth. As I gasp for breath I hear one of the lads yell, "Get a room!" That's a fantastic idea. I pick up our bags again and reach out to open the door for Hermione.
I turn back to the guys and shout, "See you tomorrow."
I immediately regret that because Hermione's scowling at me and she says "Harry" in the way she always does when she's about to start in on me for something I've done. Then the corner of her mouth curls slightly and she grabs the front of my cloak and tugs me inside the castle, to the delight of the blokes outside, who start laughing and wolf whistling again.
We don't hold hands in the castle because this 'us' is still very new and I think we'd both like to keep it to ourselves for a while. Though, from the looks we're receiving I've the feeling that our housemates have already filled in most, if not all, the students (and professors) about the turn our relationship has taken.
Colin Creevey jumps in front of us from Merlin knows where and starts snapping pictures and I'd like nothing more than to toss his camera from the astronomy tower (after taking all the wonderful pictures of Hermione and me from it). By the time we reach the portrait to Hermione's room, we're all but running. She breathlessly says the password (green eyes, wonder what that's about. Hmmm, let me think) and she takes my hand and pulls me into her room after her and the portrait door slams shut (I think maybe Colin got a picture of my bum, I've been wondering about that boy for a while now).
We stumble over to the couch and collapse on it; I drop our bags at my feet and rest my head on the back of the couch. Hermione immediately cuddles up to me and I smile and put an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. I hear her say the spell to light the fire and another to dim the candles around us. She sighs deeply and rests her head against my shoulder and I decide that this is the best part of the day; I hope it will be a part of all my future days. I can see us, in my mind, sitting just like this in front of the fire in our home, maybe with a baby sleeping nearby in a bassinet and I can't wait to get to that day. That is, until Hermione puts her arm around my middle and I decide that I'll like the journey to that day and there's really no point in rushing.
I turn my head to press a kiss to her forehead, then pull back to look at her. She lifts her head to see what I'm doing and the fire catches her eyes. The flames highlight her hair, making it all kinds of shades of brown, and cast a soft glow on her face and dance in her eyes.
"You were right, you know." She begins softly.
"Yes, I know. But, just to clarify, would you mind telling me what I was right about. I'm just right so often that it's rather difficult to keep it all straight."
She ignores my teasing; apparently she's feeling rather serious at the moment.
"When you said it wouldn't have worked if you forced me to see my feelings," I pull back to look at her and she turns her head on my shoulder to meet my eyes. "You were right. I would've run and we would've missed out on this. I'm glad that you let me see it for myself. But I'm also sorry that you had to wait for so long. I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner, Harry."
I press my lips to her forehead. "Don't be. This is our time and I really don't think it could've happened any sooner. We were too young, too foolish, we would've ruined it, ruined us."
We lapse into silence again. I can't believe that we're finally here, together (we're an us). I find it hard to believe that this isn't another wonderful dream and I'm so bursting with joy and emotion and love that I can't go another minute without saying it.
I bend my head to softly brush my lips against hers. "I love you, Hermione." And then I kiss her with all the love I feel.
When I pull back we're both breathless and we gaze at each other for what feels like hours before she rests her head on my shoulder again and I lean my head back against the couch. I realize that she didn't say it, but that's okay, I can wait. I don't need to hear it right now.
"I love you, too, Harry."
Wow, I really did need to hear it.
The End