One Kiss

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter – I don’t.

One Kiss


One picture can change everything. One article can turn a person’s life upside down. One kiss can affect an entire country. I, Hermione Jane Granger, am now very much aware of those three facts.

Here I am, lying in my four-poster bed in Gryffindor Tower, wondering what the hell just happened. I woke up this morning in the same position, deliriously happy and at peace with the world. Now, I’m freaking out – and I never freak out. Oh, sure, I get nervous, worried, anxious, obsessive, a tad bit over-enthusiastic about certain causes, slightly maniacal – but I don’t freak out. Well, at least not until now. I do have reason to act like this, though; a damn good reason at that. It all began last night…


“Bit cold to be outside now, isn’t it, Harry?” I ask as I unceremoniously drop down next to him – a move I immediately regret as the cold grass chills my legs.

“I don’t feel it,” he replies, not looking away from the calm surface of the lake.

“Oh, right, my mistake – your lips are always purple and you’re always shivering,” I say in a voice dripping with sarcasm and it reminds me in a not-so-pleasant way of Malfoy’s. At this he turns his head slightly to glare at me for a moment before looking away again. After a minute’s silence, he speaks.

“A bit cold, yeah.” He catches my eye again, but this time there is no angry look, only a hint of a smile. Feeling bold, I ask him what I’ve wanted to since I found out from Ron that he sneaks out of their dormitory every night.

“Why are you out here?” The small smile in his eyes fades as I finish my question. However, he doesn’t look away this time; he stares into my own eyes and seemingly searches my face. Just as the silence was beginning to get awkward, he answers in a quiet voice.

“To think. To get away from it all, even if it’s only for a few hours. The night sky is…nice to look at, and the relative silence is comforting.”

I can’t think of a suitable reply to his words and I settle for nodding dumbly. The glint in his eyes is back as he asks, “And what are you doing out here, then?”

“I found out that you sneak out of Gryffindor Tower at night and, well, my curiosity got the better of me. I don’t know why, but I figured you’d be outside, so I checked the Quidditch pitch first before I saw you sitting here.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re sitting with me, though.”

“Do you want me to leave or something, Harry?” I ask angrily, but I’m not quite sure why I’m upset with him.

“No, but no one else has ever sat with me like this,” he answers slowly, as though he was making sure that I didn’t miss a word he said. It took a moment for me to realize and understand the double meaning of his seemingly simple reply. Once I did, however, I knew exactly what needed to be said.

“I’ll sit with you for as long as you need me.”

“What if I told you that I want to sit here forever?” As he says this I notice, for the first time, the intensity of his eyes. It has been a long time since I‘ve seen anything other than sadness there, but tonight I’ve seen both humour and...lust?

“Then I’d tell you that I plan on sitting right here next to you forever.”

And that was the end of the conversation. He leaned in and quickly captured my lips in a heated kiss. Before I could even comprehend the situation, I was on my back with him on top of me and his tongue in my mouth. I had been kissed before, by Viktor, but that was practically chaste compared to what was happening with Harry. Our robes were discarded, despite the cold night air, and hands were roaming everywhere as we continued to kiss with almost frightening passion.

I have no idea how long we stayed out there for, but as we parted ways in the common room with a long kiss and a mutual look of longing, I knew that something new and exciting was beginning.


So, that still doesn’t explain why I’m currently barricaded in the 6th year girls’ dormitory. Well, I’m getting to that. Truthfully speaking, part of me is still ecstatic about the events of last night. Trouble is, those events are now public knowledge to all of magical Great Britain, thanks to the oh-so-lovely Rita Skeeter and one damned picture. Who knew news could travel so fast?


I woke up feeling happier than I’ve ever been. There was a light frost covering the grounds, I was warm in my bed, and Harry and I had kissed last night. I bolted upright in bed as I remembered exactly what happened by the lake. “Kissed” really wasn’t the right term for it, “snogging the bloody brains out of your best friend” was more fitting in my mind. I felt a brief moment of fear before I recalled that it was Harry who made the first move; I was just an extremely willing participant in our tryst.

With a large and rather goofy looking grin, I got out of bed and proceeded to get dressed and cleaned up for a brilliant Saturday. I hastily made my way down to the Great Hall, anxious and excited to see Harry. However, my excitement faded as I stepped foot into a dead-silent Great Hall.

There, in the middle of the Hall, stood Harry and Ron glaring daggers at each other. Ron was visibly shaking with what looked like a piece of parchment scrunched up in one of his clenched fists. Harry looked ready to kill with his wand out and pointed at Ron’s chest.

“What’s going on here?” was all I managed to ask as I walked up to the two of them. It seemed as though every single occupant of the Great Hall jumped as I spoke; something I would have found to be quite hilarious if I wasn’t wondering what the hell was going on. Harry and Ron both spun to face me and Ron’s face looked even more dangerous as he spoke.

“You,” was all he said, but the hatred in that one word was enough to make me shudder.

“Me?” I replied, completely at a loss. I stole a glance at Harry but he looked like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. Ron abruptly pushed the parchment he was holding into my hand; as I unfolded it I saw that it was a copy of the Daily Prophet. I raised an eyebrow at him before I saw the headline and giant picture that covered half of the front page.

POTTER’S STEAMY AFFAIR!
An exposé on the Boy-Who-Lived’s late night escapades with Muggle-born “best friend” Hermione Granger.

I felt my jaw drop as I took in the picture; it was obviously taken the night before when Harry and I were very ‘busy.’ He was completely on top of me with his hand up inside my shirt while the picture version of me was running my hands up and down his back. I tore my eyes away from the paper to look at Harry; I felt like this was some bizarre dream and I’d wake up any second now, laughing at my over-active imagination. The look on Harry’s face told me otherwise, though; he looked apologetic and nervous, but there was something else there that I couldn’t place.

At that point it became obvious that I was expected to say something; I glanced around, stalling for time, and realized that every single person was staring at me – even the professors seemed enraptured by the unfolding events.

“I…” I trailed off; for the life of me I could not find the right words, but Ron decided to blow up at that moment.

“How long have you been carrying on behind my back?” he roared, “Did you think I was too bloody thick to catch on to your…your,” he seemed to be searching for the right words to classify what exactly was going on between Harry and myself, “your sexual outings?” Again, had the situation been different, I would have laughed at Ron’s description of one snogging session. Instead, I stepped up and fought right back.

“Sexual outings? Are you out of your mind, Ronald Weasley? We kissed once!”

“Twice,” Harry interjected. I couldn’t believe he said that; I really could have slapped him upside the head right then.

“Once, twice, it doesn’t matter how many times it happened!” Ron shouted louder than ever. “You still went behind my back!” He whipped around to face a murderous-looking Harry and continued, “And you, Harry – you knew I fancied Hermione!”

“Bloody hell, Ron! You’ve never told me or anyone else that; I’m not a mind reader,” Harry replied through gritted teeth.

“You. Should. Have. Known,” Ron ground out in turn.

I did suspect that Ron had a thing for me, but honestly, I’ve never fancied him as more than a friend, and he needs to know that.

“I’m still right here you know,” I said coldly, “and you need to know, Ron, that I don’t fancy you. You’re my friend, and you always will be, but nothing more.” Apparently, this was not the right thing to say.

“Oh, sure, I’m just ‘the friend’ of the famous couple! I’m such a close ‘friend’ that you still felt the need to keep something this big a secret from me!”

“For God’s sake it just happened last night!” I roared in return. This was it; Ron had effectively pushed me over the edge yet again. “You’re acting like a bloody five year old about all of this! It’s time you grow up and accept the situation as it is – I don’t fancy you, in fact, I fancy Harry, and that is not going to change just because you throw a temper tantrum over it!”

And with that I stormed out of a silent and shocked Great Hall; I marched all the way to Gryffindor Tower, screamed the password at the Fat Lady, and holed myself up in my dormitory.


Now I’m pacing in circles and ignoring Lavender, Parvati, and Ginny’s desperate pleas to open the door. I’ve cast some extremely complicated locking charms on that door and there’s no way in hell they’re coming off for anyone.

“Hermione? Please open up; it’s Harry.”

Well, maybe for one person. I cross the room and draw out my wand before saying through the door, “Tell everyone else to go away!” I can hear him telling the others to clear off, and once I’m positive that they are long – gone I unlock the door. Harry immediately crosses the threshold into the room and shuts the door behind him.

“How did you get up the stairs?” I ask, unable to tame my curiosity, even in serious situations such as this.

“Seamus told me all I had to do was ask them for permission to enter the girls’ dormitory,” he said with a shrug.

“Oh…right,” I make a mental note to look into that before asking, “Where’s Ron?” At this Harry lets out a deep sigh and moves to sit on my bed; I wonder if he even knows that it’s my bed he’s on. I walk over to the bed and sit down next to him.

“Dean, Seamus, and Neville are with him now; he’s just cooling off. He stormed out of the Great Hall too, but I chased him down and talked some sense into him.”

“Did he listen to you?”

“Er…yes and no. He was still fuming when I left him with the others, but I’m pretty sure I got my point across.”

“And what exactly is your point, Harry?”

“My point,” he says and shifts to face me directly,” is that I love you, Hermione. I’ve always loved you as a best friend, but now it’s something more. My point is that I love you and I don’t care who knows or who’s upset about it. I can only hope that Ron will understand that, and I think he will eventually. I’m tired of pushing people away, Hermione. It’s time for me to put on a brave face and stand up to whoever is waiting for me,” he finishes sincerely but with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

I can’t put into words how I’m feeling right now; it’s absolutely overwhelming. All I can do is lean in and kiss Harry as though I’ll never be able to kiss him again after this. As we fall back onto my bed, still kissing, I’m well aware of the difficulties we’re bound to face, but I also know in my heart that I love Harry Potter, he loves me back, and that’s all that truly matters in this crazy game that is life.


*~*

a/n: This hasn’t been beta-read so please forgive any grammatical errors. I hope you enjoyed it!