Author's note: I am sooooo sorry for the long wait, you guys. Real-life and another project took up loads of my time these past two weeks. I hope that this chapter more than makes up for it. As you know, I usually just post a few lines of a song with the chapters, but this song fits so well with this chapter, I thought I'd post the entire song. It was written by Bob Dylan, but the version that I am very fond of is the one by Garth Brooks. I know not too many of you are country fans, but this isn't really a "country" song. If you haven't heard it, I suggest you give it a try. One of my favorites! Thanks to Excalibur for the beta-you are the bestest!
Chapter 13
To Make You Feel My Love
"When the rain is blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I would offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love
When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love
I know you haven't made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong
I've known it from the moment that we met
No doubt in my mind where you belong
I'd go hungry, I'd go blind for you
I'd go crawling down the aisle for you
There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do
To make you feel my love
The storms are raging on a rolling sea
Down the highway of regret
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
But you ain't seen nothing like me yet
There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do
Go to the ends of the earth for you
Make you happy, make your dreams come true
To make you feel my love"
("To Make You Feel My Love" by Garth Brooks)
You can do this. You can. It is simply a case of mind over matter, or some rubbish like that. You're intelligent, clever, and logical. You graduated at the top of your class at one of the most prestigious wizarding schools in the world. Common sense! It's all a matter of pure, common sense! What is it Mum is always telling me? You can do anything you want if you put your mind to it.
Somehow, I don't think she had this sort of situation in mind when she told me that.
Okay, Hermione. Think about this. Its just one night out of your life. Twenty-four hours. Hell, it's not even twenty-four hours really. It's just a few, short hours. Yes, that's right, a few hours sounds much better than an entire night.
Okay, that's just great. I'm babbling to myself.
"Hermione?"
How many times have I been able to do something that loads of people told me I couldn't do? I love to prove people wrong, don't I? This is just another great opportunity for me to do that.
"Earth to Hermione…"
Yes, another opportunity! But, I could think of it in a completely different way. It's one room. Most hotel rooms have what…two full-size beds. He'll have a bed. I'll have a bed. Easy-peasy. Crisis averted. I always do over think things, don't I? I have to stop doing that.
But then again, it's not really a crisis, is it? In the grand scheme of things, it's not that big of a deal. But, it is to me. I'm supposed to spend an entire evening…okay, a few, measly, short hours in close quarters with the man I've been fantasizing about since I got here.
Has it been since I came here? Yes…it's been since I came here.
But, it's not just that. I feel something for him, too. Something that I can't describe.
"Were you planning on spending the entire evening in the lift?"
"Excuse me, what?" Hermione asked, breaking out of her reverie.
Harry stared at her with a bemused expression on his face. "I asked if you were going to spend the entire evening in the lift or were you planning on coming with me to the room?"
Hermione imagined that her cheeks were about beet red by now. How long had she been standing here in the lift while he looked at her wondering what on earth her problem was?
Hermione sheepishly exited the lift and watched as the doors pinged closed.
"That storm has you more freaked out than I thought," Harry commented.
The storm? He thinks I'm acting like a complete and utter moron because of the storm. Harry! The moment you mentioned the fact that we'd be sharing a hotel room alone…I'd forgotten there was a bloody storm! And how the hell are you the picture of cool, calm and collected and I'm here wondering how I'm going to be able to make it through the night?
"Yeah, the storm has me in a right state," she lied with a weak smile.
"You're going to be okay, Hermione," he said reassuringly. "You're inside. Besides, I've seen loads of storms since I've been here. This is nothing. You just wait until you see your first hurricane."
"Can't wait," Hermione said sarcastically. Now in addition to worrying about the hotel room, she was back to worrying about the storm.
Harry put his hands on her shoulders. "Hermione. You're going to be okay. I'd never let anything happen to you... You trust me, right?"
Hermione nodded. At this moment, she wasn't sure of much of anything, but she did trust him---completely. His hands were still on her shoulders and she looked up into his green eyes and felt that familiar woozy feeling in her stomach.
"So, um," Harry said awkwardly, dropping his hands. "What room were we in again?"
Hermione looked down at the keycard in her hand. "Room 720."
"Right," Harry said, walking back down the corridor. Hermione followed him and since she had no other clue what to say, she decided to recite the room numbers as they passed.
"706…708…710…712…714…716…718…"
"720," Harry finished for her. She handed him the keycard and watched as he inserted it into the lock. The door opened and Harry held it open for her.
"Quite the gentleman, aren't we?" Hermione asked.
"Hey, I know how to behave, I've had lessons," he joked, winking at her as she walked past him into the room.
Hermione laughed and was actually starting to relax. Well, she was until Harry turned on the light illuminating the dark room.
As hotel rooms went, it was sort of small. The walls were decorated in a peaceful beige color and the curtains were a chintzy brown print. A wooden table and chairs were in the corner of the room next to a dresser with a television and room service menu atop it. This was all well and good and certainly wouldn't have set off any bells and whistles for Hermione. She knew she should probably take a look at the ocean view or check out the loo to see whether or not it had a bathtub or a shower, which were all things she normally did when she was in a hotel. But, she couldn't move. She couldn't speak. Her eyes were trained on the full-size bed in the middle of the room... the single, full-sized bed in the middle of the room.
One bed. There isn't even a sofa or comfy chair in here? There's just one, single bed?!
"I know it's a bit small," Harry said. "But it is the best we could do on such short notice. We're lucky to have it."
Great. Now he thinks I'm some spoiled princess who wants to live in the lap of luxury! That isn't it at all, Harry! Has it escaped your attention that there is only ONE bed in this room?! ONE!
She smiled at him. "It's okay, Harry. Really."
"Are you sure?" Harry asked, walking past her to open up the curtains. The wind was even gustier than it had been before and it was raining so hard that Harry could barely make out the ocean down below. He quickly closed the curtains, not wanting to upset Hermione.
"Out of sight, out of mind," he said with a sympathetic grin.
How could you not fall for this bloke?
"We should do something that will take your mind off of the storm," he said. "We just ate lunch, so ordering room service is out of the question until later. I know what we could do…"
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Do something to take your mind off the storm," Harry answered simply.
"Like what?"
Harry looked thoughtfully at her. "Well, we could…watch television. Sit and talk? Go to sleep."
"It's a bit early to go to sleep," Hermione said, trying hard not to look at the bed.
There was a knock on the door and Hermione looked at Harry who just shrugged. He had no idea who could be knocking on their door. Hermione walked the few steps the increasingly small room seemed to afford and opened it. A uniformed bellman stood at the door with a cart of champagne and strawberries.
"Good evening, Miss," the bellman said politely.
"I think you have the wrong room," Hermione said. "We haven't ordered any room service."
"This isn't room service, miss," the bellman said. "The resort provides complimentary champagne and strawberries to all new guests, especially couples."
"B-but we're not…we're not a couple," Hermione stammered, as the bellman breezed past her into the room. "But we're not…I mean we're not…."
The bellman winked at her. "Whatever you say, Miss."
The bellman saw Harry and grinned at him. "Good evening, sir."
"Good evening," Harry replied, trying not to laugh at Hermione's gob-smacked expression.
"My name is Curtis," the bellman said. "And if you need anything at all the rest of the evening you just call down to the front desk and I'll help you folks out."
"Okay," Harry said, pulling out some money to give to the bellman for a tip.
Curtis quickly set out the champagne, glasses and strawberries on the table.
Hermione tapped him on the shoulder. "Pardon me, Curtis. But, there's some sort of misunderstanding here. We're not a couple. We're only really good friends. There's nothing more to it than that. This setup is completely and totally platonic. Truth be told, we haven't even known…"
Her voice trailed off as she noticed that nonplussed look on his face. No matter what she said, he was going to believe what he wanted. Her denials were only making the situation worse.
"Your secret is safe with me," Curtis said, giving her a wink and a smile.
Rolling her eyes at him, Hermione walked over to the door and pointedly held it open. "Well, thank you very much, Curtis."
"You're quite welcome," Curtis said, grinning at her. "You two have a wonderful evening."
"Can you believe him?" Hermione asked Harry when they were alone again. "You didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"
Harry vehemently shook his head. "Don't look at me. I can't help but wonder, though if maybe Curtis might know Sirius. This sounds like something right up his alley, don't you think?"
Hermione laughed. "Yes, it does. But, in his defense, there's no way Sirius could have known we'd end up stranded here on Elbow Cay and have to wait out the storm in this very hotel."
"Yeah, probably not," Harry said with a laugh. He sat back on the bed and picked up the remote control and absently began flipping through the television channels. He gave up after a few minutes and looked at Hermione who was staring out the window.
"I think it would be best if we kept the curtains closed, don't you?" Harry asked her. "If you can't see it, you won't be worried about it, right?"
Hermione nodded and closed the curtains. "So, what should we do then?"
"Well, we could get pissed," Harry suggested dryly.
"Very funny," Hermione said. "But I think a little champagne might help me relax…you know, keep my mind off the storm…"
"Okay," Harry said, smiling at her. "That's the spirit."
As she watched him pop the cork on the champagne bottle and pour them each a glass, she couldn't help thinking that this was going to be one, long night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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"Okay," Hermione said, shaking her head. "That is so stupid! If she hears a sound, why is she going to check it out by herself? And do you hear that creepy music? She's going to get killed and it's not going to be very pretty."
She and Harry were watching some old horror movie on television and enjoying the champagne and strawberries.
"And she just had sex," Harry pointed out. "Which is never a good thing in horror movies…"
"You'd think they'd get original," Hermione sniffed. "Anyone with half a brain could see this coming a mile away."
Thankfully, the storm had been wreaking havoc with the television reception all evening and the screen finally went black.
"Oh, what a shame," Hermione said sarcastically.
"They put us out of our misery," Harry joked.
"And not a moment too soon," Hermione said, laughing. She was surprised to find herself having a good time. Once they'd done something as innocuous as watching a stupid, cheesy horror film together, she was able to relax and not think about the fact that they were sharing a hotel room for the night.
"Do you want some more?" Harry asked reaching for the champagne bottle.
"Trying to get me drunk, Potter?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows at him.
"You've figured me out," Harry deadpanned. "I planned this entire storm, the hotel having only one room and this complimentary bottle of champagne just to seduce you, Miss Granger. I can't believe you sussed it all out."
Hermione laughed. "Well, I am a very smart and clever witch. But, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. You've concocted this entire scenario just to do research for the proposal."
"Now that you mention it," Harry said, refilling his own glass. "That would be a good idea for Eva and Sirius. We could lose the storm, but this champagne and strawberry thing just might work."
Hermione reached for her bag on the floor beside the bed and scrabbled for a pen and her notepad.
"Okay, strawberries and champagne," she wrote diligently on the paper. "And candles, of course. But, we might have a problem keeping them lit if we do this outside."
"We have some old tiki torches in our storage shed," Harry suggested.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Tiki torches are not romantic, Harry. They're tacky."
"They're not tacky," Harry protested. "Loads of people use them down here."
"I'll put it down on the list, but I still think they're tacky," Hermione said, writing it down."
Harry had many questions he wanted to ask her. Over the last few days, he'd been wondering what her relationship with Ron was like. Did Ron ever get romantic with her? The idea of Ron and Hermione together just didn't seem like a valid pairing. He supposed his own feelings for Hermione were clouding his judgment, but negating that, he still didn't think of Ron and Hermione as being very compatible. Harry hadn't spoken to Hermione about Ron and she certainly hadn't mentioned him, either.
He noticed she was looking at him expectantly and he sheepishly smiled at her.
"I was asking you if they had a song," Hermione repeated. "Most couples do. My parents' song is 'The Way You Look Tonight'. It played at their wedding and every time my mum hears it, she gets all weepy."
"I'm not sure if they have a song or not," Harry said. "But I can look in Sirius' CD collection when we get back. He likes all those old classic songs."
"So do I," Hermione said softly. She locked eyes with Harry again and quickly decided she should get back to work, transcribing ideas in her notepad.
"Have you always been this organized?" Harry asked her. "I think I could have used you back at Hogwarts. I probably would have gotten better marks."
Hermione laughed. "A bit of a slacker, were you?"
"I wouldn't say I was a slacker, per se," he explained. "I more or less did what I had to do to get by."
Hermione reckoned that unlike everyone else, Harry had other things to think about while he was in school that certainly kept him preoccupied.
"What was your favorite subject in school?" Harry asked conversationally.
"Transfiguration," Hermione replied thoughtfully. "But I really enjoyed Charms, too. Potions was very challenging also, as was Defense Against the Dark Arts. I really liked Ancient Runes and Arithmancy."
"Way to narrow it down, Hermione," Harry teased.
She playfully swatted at him. "I can't help it. I really got a lot out of all my classes. You know those kids in school who would remind the professor at the end of the classes that they forgot to assign homework?"
Harry nodded. "Don't tell me you were one of those?"
"Yeah," Hermione said blushing. "I was."
She was adorable when she blushed, Harry found himself thinking.
"And as you can imagine, I didn't have many friends while I was growing up, either. I was the know-it-all bookworm they all came to for answers, not the girl they invited to birthday parties or holidays."
Harry nodded, leaning back against the headboard.
"And so I threw myself into my schoolwork," she continued. "I read everything I could get my hands on. When I received my letter for Beauxbatons, I was so excited. There was this whole new world that I could explore. And it explained so much about what I'd been able to do. My parents were more than a little wary about letting me pursue it, but I kept at them and they finally relented.
"So when I received my course list and reading assignments, I hit the ground running," Hermione said with a laugh. "I think I'd managed to read the entire course load that summer before my first year."
"Wait, wait," Harry interjected. "The entire course load?"
"Yes," Hermione replied. "Come on, give me a break. I like to read!"
"Obviously," Harry teased.
Hermione responded by taking her pillow and hitting him upside the head.
"Okay," Harry said, chuckling. "I give. I'm very sorry. Please continue."
"Thank you," Hermione said, pretending to be affronted. "But, I felt like I was going to be so far behind all the other kids who were born into wizarding families. I wanted to be prepared."
She shrugged as she recalled how her studious nature and her ambition to be the best had turned off quite a few of her fellow students. As a result, she didn't have many friends. She had loads of study partners, of course. People who wanted her help on a difficult assignment or to cheat off her papers or exams.
"It was always that way," Hermione said with a shrug. "Even when I was in primary school. I had this reputation as a know-it-all. But, I was always afraid that someone was going to find me out. That I was this big failure."
"Sounds a bit like me growing up, too," Harry said, with a slight smile. "Actually, sounds an awful lot like me. I had to go to the same school as my cousin Dudley and he basically made sure everyone stayed away from me. This was, of course, when he wasn't making my life miserable."
"You know, I might know someone we could set your cousin up with," Hermione said. "There was a girl in my primary school named Angelica Stevens. She was a piece of work. She used to try and cheat off my tests. When I wouldn't let her, she'd get mad and start calling me Geeky Granger or some other rubbish names like that."
"She sounds perfect for Dudley," Harry said. "If I still spoke to him, I might see if we could set them up."
"For all we know, they could have met and have four children by now ," Hermione snickered.
"Yeah," Harry said. "Maybe we could double date sometime…"
Hermione laughed. She didn't know if it was from the champagne or from the company, but she was feeling quite lightheaded.
"So tell me," Harry said, leaning forward. "There had to be at least one class that you didn't like. Come on, you can tell me."
"There was actually. I couldn't stand Divination."
"Really?"
Hermione nodded. "It's such a wooly discipline, don't you think? There's no logical basis for it. If you ask me, it's about as reliable as a Muggle Magic 8-ball."
"I would kill to see you in Professor Trelawney's class," Harry said with a laugh.
Hermione knew all about Sybil Trelawney of course and the prophecy she'd given about Harry and Voldemort. From the look in her eyes, Harry could tell that Hermione didn't need any explanation.
"I'm sorry," she said, reaching out and patting his arm.
"It's okay," Harry replied. "At least I came out on top for that particular prophecy, right?"
It was his attempt at lightening the tense mood, but Hermione didn't laugh.
"I've never spoken about it to anyone other than Dumbledore and Sirius," Harry said, looking away from her. "It's not exactly something I enjoy thinking about…"
"Of course," Hermione said quickly. "You don't have to…"
Harry put his hand on hers. "No, it's okay. I feel like I could talk about it with you."
And so he did. He told her about finding out he was a wizard; meeting Hagrid for the first time. He told her about finding out the truth about his parents' deaths. His eyes lit up as he related for her the first time he'd arrived at Hogwarts.
"I felt like I finally had a home," Harry said quietly.
He told her about facing Voldemort for the first time. For the first time, he actually spoke about how painful it had been when he thought Sirius had died in the Department of Mysteries. And he told her about the incredible guilt he felt about not being able to save Cedric Diggory and the countless others whose lives had been lost as a result of Voldemort.
When he was finished, they both had tears in their eyes and Hermione wished she knew what to say.
"That's a lot of weight to put on the shoulders of a boy," Hermione finally said.
"Yeah," Harry said with a weak laugh. "But I didn't have a choice."
While Harry had been worried about the fate of the wizarding world, I was worried about whether or not I would graduate at the top of my class?
Hermione reached for him and he willingly went into her arms, hugging her tightly. They sat like that for a long time, holding onto each other.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispered, resting her head on his chest. It suddenly became clear to her why after all that he'd gone through, he'd left the wizarding world behind for a life of anonymity. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that."
Harry suddenly realized that he was crying in her arms and with an embarrassed laugh, he pulled away from her.
"I should be apologizing to you," he said, looking away. "Unloading all of that on you…it's not fair."
Hermione shook her head. "No, Harry. It's okay. I just…I wish I had known you then. I could have been there for you."
"You're here for me now," Harry said, looking up and meeting her gaze. With a shaking hand, Harry slowly reached for her. She didn't pull away and he eased himself closer to her. They both knew where this was heading as Hermione leaned in. A loud rumble of thunder startled them both and they jumped apart.
"I-It's getting late," Harry said his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll let you have the bed. I'll sack out in the bathtub or something…"
"Harry," Hermione said, reaching for his hand. "Don't."
He froze. "Don't what?"
"Don't go."
"Hermione…"
She brushed her lips against his. This was all the invitation that Harry needed and he parted her mouth with his tongue. They kissed like that for what seemed like forever, his mouth moist against hers, searching and anxious as they fell back onto the bed. Hermione ran her hands through his hair as Harry slowly began undoing the buttons on her blouse. They didn't speak. They were afraid that they might talk themselves out of doing something that they'd both wanted for such a long time.
The storm, the outside world... everything and everyone in existence were momentarily forgotten. There was only them and this one, perfect moment.