Author's Note: Of course I don't own the characters, but the plot is mine! I swear!
I know I have a story out there that needs a chapter or two, but work has been utterly crazy. If you had a few hours, I can go into detail, but let's be honest, you only care about my stories, right? Thought so *sniff*
Anyways, with the holidays coming up, and next week looking just as crazy as the last three, I don't think I'll be able to get back to Four's a Crowd. So, in the meantime, I thought I'd pull out this old classic. My first ever 1st person POV story. If you've read it somewhere else other than at Portkey, it's a plagery (Okay, I know that's not a word, but forgery isn't right, and since I couldn't think of the right word, I figured I'd make it up). It's not verbatim the same, since I changed a few phrases here and there.
A big thanks to Tawny Spitfyre for the beta (though note that I added my new phrases after she beta'd it).
Happy Thanksgiving!
Sleekeasy's the Devil! - Part I
Though I'm not proud to say, I have officially added another person to my "Most Hated" List. And yes, though I'll deny it if ever asked, I do have a Hate list. In my defense though, about 99% of the time I'm pretty laid back; even quiet and unassuming. People don't generally bother me all that much (though they do tend to annoy me rather easily), but there are a select few that have an honored place on my Hate list. Topping that list, of course, is good old Tommy Riddle, may he endure eternal wedgies in that place where Dark Lords are forced to suffer for their sins. I suppose his place is more honorary than anything, since technically he's dead and all, but he was such a right bastard that he gets top honors. The Malfoys also make the list, both Senior and his pointy-headed albino son. Malfoy Senior's tried to kill me a few times, and call me sensitive, but I think it's only natural to dislike people who try and murder you, no? And I guess I can consider his oily spawn as my `mortal enemy - school version,' since, of course, Riddle was my real mortal enemy. But Draco was a real bastard. A couple of Riddle's toadies also make the list, like that deranged witch Lestrange. But today, a new name has been added to the list: Adalbert Sleekeasy. I know it may sound strange to have someone who specializes in hair care products, rather than horror and mayhem, on my list, but that bastard has probably ruined my life just when I thought things were looking up.
It all started on a normal Friday night. For once, Ron hadn't any plans and Hermione was busy, so it became a guy's night out, or in, as it were. I had made the mistake of introducing Ron to the wonders of Muggle video games; now he couldn't get enough of them. I was over at Ron's flat, and it had been a good night so far, with the two of us eating pizza, drinking butterbeers, and me beating him like an old drum at a fighting game (feels good, I can tell you, after the years of chess humiliation). Life was good, I was happy, and then Sleekeasy came and ruined everything! Okay, not literally; I mean, Adalbert didn't saunter into the flat or anything, but you'll see what I mean.
Anyways, Ron was whining like a little girl again when a knock sounded at the door. Ron paused the game while I relaxed on the couch, basking in my superiority in the virtual world as he opened the door. "Hey Hermione," I heard him say. "What're you doing here?" he asked curiously. I was curious as well, since I thought she had a date. I stood up and turned to say hi to my other best friend, but the greeting died on my lips when I saw her.
Now, don't get me wrong, I had always known that Hermione was a girl - the fact that she liked to talk about `feelings' and liquid fell from her eyes and that for some inexplicable reason she didn't like Quidditch was a dead giveaway. Plus, I'm a guy, and I've noticed Hermione's, er…`feminine attributes' every now and then throughout the years. True, Hogwarts robes tend to hide things that should not be hidden, but the skirts were a nice touch. Now, usually when I see her, she's dressed casually: bushy hair bushing (that's a word, right?), little make-up, and comfortable, sensible clothes. But tonight she was still all fancied up from her date, and let me tell you, she cleans up real good.
It wasn't what she was wearing: just a simple summer dress that showed off her arms and legs…okay, maybe what she was wearing had a little something to do with it. But mostly it was her hair. I imagine it was quite a battle, but those bushy locks were tamed into elegant curls and piled into some kind of twisty bun, with a few stray tendrils grazing her neck. I was inexorably reminded of fourth year, when I wondered who the hot chick that Victor Krum brought to the Yule Ball was. That was Sleekeasy's fault too, if I remember correctly. He must put some kind of horny spell in that damn hair potion, and I ain't talking about growing antlers.
"Hi, Ron. Hi, Harry," Hermione said, breaking me out of my gawking.
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to act cool. "Hi, Hermione. What are you doing here? I thought you had a date."
She sighed. "I did…it didn't go well." She looked at me meaningfully and shook her head slightly, telling me without words that the wizard had been a bit too handsy with her. Early on, we agreed not to share certain details with Ron, like whenever one of Hermione's dates tried to take advantage of her. Ron still had the old "big brother" mentality, and combined with his Weasley temper, he could easily go flying off the broom if he found out. And though I though that it might be amusing, Hermione insisted that neither one of us wanted to read in the Daily Prophet how Ron was arrested for assault.
Anyways, it was something she had expressed frustration about before. Some wizards, seeing her bookish, sometimes aloof exterior, took it as a challenge to `melt' her, so to speak, to break her out of her shell. They saw her as repressed. It annoyed me as well, but I didn't get worked up over it. Hermione was a big girl, after all, and she could more than take care of herself. But for some reason, tonight it made me almost as mad as Ron would have been. But I'm Harry Potter - I'm used to hiding my emotions.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Ron said sympathetically. "Want something to eat? I think we have some leftover pizza."
Hermione grinned. "I'd love some," she said and walked over to the kitchen. "Still playing those video games, huh?" she asked with amusement as she dove right into the pizza box.
Ron scowled. "Yeah, and Harry keeps cheating!"
"I do not!"
"Do too!"
"Do not"
"Do t-"
"All right, all right," Hermione interrupted, saving me from another round of `Do not's, though I clearly had the upper hand. "I have winner!" she said gleefully. That was another odd thing about Hermione. I would never have expected her to like video games, but I guess it just proves that she can still surprise me even after all these years. For once I regretted my superior skills, for soon after beating Ron, Hermione sat on the couch next to me.
I lost, but she definitely cheated, though it would be a hard to prove. I suppose it was unintentional cheating, because it's not her fault I was distracted by her perfume, or when her leg brushed against mine, or how she would lean into me while putting some body action into the controller. After losing rather handily, I suddenly felt very uncomfortable around her, which was crazy. She's been my best friend for almost thirteen years now, been through hell and back with me, and suddenly I can't look at her without wondering what it would be like to kiss her. Damn you Sleekeasy! You better hope you're never in a dark alley alone with me!
After half an hour of feeling very awkward and uncomfortable, I politely made my exit, feigning a headache. Ron looked disappointed and gave me a few butterbeers for the road, but Hermione…well, she gave me one of her looks that said, "I know you're hiding something." Of all the people in the world, only Hermione could read my body language that well, and I had to get out of there before she read the language from a very particular part of my body and found out that I was having a different kind of feeling for her that night. Fortunately, I managed to make it out of there unscathed, and I hoped that a good night's sleep would snap me out of it.
************
Well, so much for the magical powers of a good night's sleep. Sleeping is over-rated, anyways. If anything, it made things much, much worse, for I had forgotten about the uncanny ability of my dreams to reflect my subconscious. In the past, my dreams usually revolved around Riddle and the little spy camera I had into his life; I now look upon those days with fondness. I awoke the next morning feeling rather…tingly…after having a very detailed dream about Hermione. About Hermione and me, to be exact, and our efforts to increase the wizarding population.
My usual strategy for attempting to get over a girl (not that I've done that often) is to avoid her. However, when the girl in question is your best friend, avoiding her without hurting her feelings is an almost Herculean task. It would have been so, so much easier to ignore my feelings for my best friend if said best friend's lovely body were covered by layers of wool and long pants. As fate would have it though, it was the middle of the summer, and it was all I could do to tear my eyes away from her slim legs, shapely hips, clingy tee-shirts…well, it was difficult indeed.
My biggest mistake was agreeing to go to the beach. What can I say? I just wasn't thinking. It was a beautiful day outside, perfect for sun and surf. Most of the Weasleys would be going as well, so it wasn't like it would be just Hermione and me alone together. Everything was going along swimmingly (no pun intended), and I had just put down the blanket when Hermione, next to me, removed her shirt. At that point, I heartily gave thanks to Hermione's parents for raising such a modest girl, for she was wearing a one-piece bathing suit; heaven knows the effect that a bikini would have on me. I caught myself staring before she did, and stammered something unintelligible before fleeing into the water.
I soon learned that there are more dangerous things than sharks and jellyfish in the water when Hermione splashed her way towards me, running through the surf. My God, no words could possibly do justice to the sight of Hermione running through the surf. In fact, let me bask in the memory for a minute…
Okay, back. Where was I? Oh yeah. So, for a second or twenty, I was mesmerized by the sight of Hermione bouncing, but then she splashed me, which brought me back to my senses, and a furious splashing battle ensued. For a moment there, it was as if everything was back to normal, as if we were just friends again, until she tried to dunk me. Well, certainly I couldn't let that pass, so I tried to dunk her in response, which led to some odd water-wrestling scene and much laughter. After a few minutes of that, I somehow found myself very close to her, her legs loosely wrapped around me as she laughed delightedly. I suddenly became very aware of the fact that only a few millimeters of fabric separated her bare skin from mine. That thought, along with the feeling of her bare thighs and legs wrapped around me, produced a predictable reaction by Harry Jr.
However, on retrospect, I think I might have overreacted just then, for I flung Hermione away from me before she noticed anything was up (okay, this time pun intended). She regained the surface of the water and looked at me in confusion while I tried to act natural, like I meant to throw her into the water with all my might. Fortunately, before she could inquire about my odd behavior, the Weasleys called us in from the water for lunch. I let Hermione go ahead, saying that I wanted to swim a bit more, in actuality buying time while my body relaxed a bit. Though the sight of her running away from me didn't help any.
Since then, I've carefully avoided situations that involved bathing suits and physical contact, while at the same time trying to act completely natural. My only hope was to hold out until the winter, when jumpers and jeans would help me power through these temporary feelings.
********
A/N: So, does anyone read those author's responses to reviews? Just wondering…
-->