Author's note: Hi again! I'm back after a shameful delay- after promising a chapter every weekend, I manage to jam my social calender with parties! Actually, my grandfather's party was a lot wilder than one might expect. And wild drunken parties remind me (you'll see why in a minute) of a fantastic review I received for my last chapter- Unfortunately, The name of said reviewer escapes me as I write this- But she (I assume, she) knows who she is! My reply is:
I'm actually Irish (northern), though I spend a lot of time in Britain, so I'm allowed to slag them off playfully without being branded a vengeful Paddy! Am I still fetch??! I agree completely with your politics, I felt I had to say that, since you had the balls to tell me what you thought! And by now, you've obviously been disappointed- seriously, for minute- commiserations.
Disclaimer: Actually… no. Why don't you just sue me? It'd be a break from the monotony of my miserable life… Ah no, I'm not that depressed. And I'm not JK, and I'm not making any money. At all. And I don't just mean from this fanfiction.
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The three girls emerged from the shadows, holding their wands high and wearing triumphant smiles. Hermione had the strangest urge to blow on the tip of her wand before returning it to her leg-holster with a flourish. But, like so many other urges she'd had since stepping into Harry's garden, she repressed it.
Harry, at the sight of three more girls in such close proximity, reached for his own wand. Then he realised who the girls were, what they had just done, and what they had just done. Substance-wise. Hermione was fine, but the other two were looking the worse for wear.
Harry smiled at them widely, and Hermione ran forward to hug him, jumping into his arms and inhaling the scent of sweat and grass that lingered on his clothes.
Harry held Hermione, all the time thinking- 'McGonagall naked…Dumbledore naked… Dumbledore fucking McGonagall'. He screamed softly at the last image his desperate mind had presented him with in order for him not to give away his current predicament with having Hermione in that position.
Hermione put her feet back on the ground and looked at Harry as she had at Ginny, Ron and Luna on arriving in Grimmauld place; cautiously and worriedly. She raised an eyebrow.
Harry, copping on that he had probably screamed aloud smiled reassuringly.
'Sorry, Hermione, I just hurt my back earlier, is all'.
Hermione slumped with relief. Harry wasn't insane. She decided it must be something in the water at Grimmauld place.
She reached out to touch him again but thought better of it. Instead she said with a smile; 'I'm so glad to see you Harry. You look incredible'.
Silence.
'I mean', she panicked, 'you look different'.
'Do, I?' replied Harry, bewildered at what she had said before that. Hermione nodded, and looked behind her at the other two, who were supporting each other.
She looked back at Harry and he raised an eyebrow at her inquiringly.
She threw up her hands despairingly. 'You tell me!' she said, shrugging. 'I found them all like this a while ago. And they're not the worst. It's only a matter of time before Ron and Luna get done for indecent exposure; they're around here somewhere'.
As if on cue, a loud shriek echoed throughout the street. 'Oh, my GOD!' was the exclamation. Hermione had a hunch as to what it was in response to, and she shrugged again at Harry, who mirrored it.
'Come inside', he said and he and Hermione helped Ginny and Tonks inside to the lounge, where they promptly passed out on the (thankfully leather) couch.
'What the fuck is going on?' was all Harry could ask Hermione as he led her out into the kitchen.
Hermione was about to respond when something large and pink bustled past her and sped up the stairs. It was Harry's aunt. Hermione was knocked off her balance and fell backwards. Harry, behind her, caught her, and stood her upright again. He still held on to her arms. She looked into his bottle green eyes and whimpered.
'Yeah… what's going on', she whispered, still staring onto his eyes.
Then, suddenly, she shook her head vigourously, and, regaining control of her nervous system made her way into the kitchen, leaving a gulping Harry to follow.
She sat down at the table and Harry opened the fridge. 'Drink?'
'Mmmm'
Silence.
'I mean yes, Harry', she cursed herself. 'I would like one. A drink, I mean', she babbled nervously, high pitched. She mentally kicked herself in the arse.
'Erm…' Harry strode over to the table and sat down opposite her. He handed her a cold bottle.
'So, are you staying for a few days?' he said hopefully, while running his hand through his hair and taking a swig from a bottle dripping with condensation with his eyes closed.
Hermione squeaked, and shifted in her chair, taking her own bottle and rubbing it down her neck.
'Yes, I'll stay for a while if that's ok'.
'That's more than ok', replied Harry. 'I haven't been talking to you in ages. I missed you'.
Harry looked at her intensely, and she shifted so much in her chair that she all but fell off. When she straightened up she said; 'I've missed you too'. He smiled.
'So, what've you been up to so far this summer?' he asked casually, leaning back in his seat.
'Nothing really', Hermione replied. 'A weekend in Edinburgh, but that's all. You? How've you been coping?'
Harry frowned pensively. 'I've been mostly ok', he said slowly. 'I've been training a lot, and I'm in a band, which gives me something to do'.
Hermione gasped, impressed. 'Really?'
'Yeah', replied Harry smiling. 'Actually, we're playing tonight at the local club. You will come, won't you?'
Hermione's heart rate quickened. 'Yes, I will come.' The said breathlessly. 'To the gig! I'll come to the gig', she said quickly.
'Good', said Harry, almost triumphantly. 'Oh, and that reminds me. Will you come out and help me move Emma from the garden? If she wakes up, she'll probably try to sexually molest me again'. He shuddered.
Hermione frowned. 'That whore. I should have done a lot worse to her'.
Harry just stared at her.
'Touching you like that', Hermione continued, incensed. 'I mean, the nerve!'
She marched out into the garden, with Harry following. When she saw Emma's limp and lifeless body, she took out her wand again.
'Erm, Hermione?' Harry ventured timidly.
'It's ok', she replied, 'I'm only going to mobilicorpus her'.
At Harry's questioning look, she said: 'It's actually not that hard to do magic without the ministry finding out. There's a charm you put on your wand. I'll do it for you if you want'.
Harry's eyes were somewhat glazed as he stared at Hermione, and she waved her hand in front of his face when he didn't answer.
'Sorry', he muttered. 'What?'
'I said I'll charm your wand for you later if you want'.
Harry gulped audibly.
They walked over to Emma. Hermione cast her spell and levitated her out to the main street by the side gate through which they had entered by stealth earlier. Hermione set her down on the footpath outside. She looked just like any other teenager passed out by the side of the road, so no one gave her a second glance.
Hermione noticed this.
'Alas, what a world we live in…' she said sadly. 'Anyway, she said, much more brightly. 'What time is it, should we be going soon?'
'Erm… Yeah', said Harry, looking at his watch. The gig's in an hour and a half but we'll need to set up. I'll get my stuff'.
'I'll help', said Hermione, following Harry inside and up the stairs to his room. Harry grabbed a guitar case, swinging it over his shoulder. There was no need for Hermione to help. She'd just wanted to see his bedroom for future reference. Not-so-distant-future reference.
'Right, let's go', said Harry, casually taking Hermione's hand as he passed her and leading her downstairs and out of the house.
Harry hummed on his way to the club, and Hermione shivered at the sound of his voice.
'Are you cold?' he said, worriedly. He didn't wait for an answer and put his arm around her shoulders. Hermione stumbled as she walked, almost passing out. Harry caught her yet again.
But this time, his adoring public could see them through their net curtains. They all scowled simultaneously.
So, as most of the younger population of Little Whinging made their way to the club (all who had seen Harry and Hermione together, carrying weapons of varying size, shape and deadliness), Harry and Hermione slowly began to yield to their lust, unbeknownst to the other, and began to fantasise about the rest of the evening…
They got to the club after a short walk, filled with surreptitious longing stares and casual touches. Harry first introduced Hermione to his bandmates. Their names were Ritchey, who played rhythm guitar, Nick on the bass and Sean on drums. They eyed Hermione appreciatively, as they walked behind Harry and her to the backstage area.
Harry turned around quickly, scowling menacingly at them. They took a step backwards.
Hermione left Harry to set up, wishing him good luck and kissing him on the corner of his mouth. The temperature in the building seemed to rocket for the two of them. She squeezed his hand, smiling, and walked away to get herself a drink, swaying her hips as she walked and glancing over her shoulder at a still stunned Harry, and smiling slightly.
Harry walked off to join his band on stage, repeating his anti-sex-with-Hermione mantra from earlier, shuddering as he did so…
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So, This is it for this chapter. I may have one up tomorrow, even though I really should be studying this weekend! This was kind of a filler chapter and I hope you didn't hate it too much. This fic is just a joke anyway, don't take it seriously!
And, yes- Harry's band are based on the Manic Street Preachers, with Harry being the lovely sexy James!
Next chapter is what many of you have been patiently waiting for, if I know portkey readers!
Remember, What motivates IamHermione to write? Yes, you've got it: Reviews!
I am a despicable emotional blackmailer.
Review… Please?
Now I'm a beggar… I just can't get it right!