Heart of Steam by HarrynHermione Rating: PG Ship: Harry & Hermione Canon: Books 1 - 5 Genre: Romance Status: Complete Length: 3,836 words in 1 chapter Published: 19 Dec 2004 Last updated: 19 Dec 2004 Harry comes home drunk one night and confesses his love for Hermione. But does he remember it the next day? Does she? This story is a response to the challenge “He Can’t Remember” and posted on the Harry/Hermione forum. From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/3432/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 1. Heart of Steam A/N: Fair warning…this is my first fanfic! Hope you enjoy. R/R! Story Tidbits: Post-Hogwarts. One-Shot. Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the Goddess of the Harry Potter universe herself, JK Rowling. No copyright infringement intended. ************************************** Heart of Steam “Two more stairs. That’s it, Harry. Easy does it.” “Why isssit when I’m drunk my conscious sssounds like hhhher?” Because she IS your conscious She is your everything. “Hmmmph.” He stood staring at the door to the flat he shared with Hermione (Ron lived in flat across town…the “hot wizard bachelor pad” he liked to call it), expecting it to open to admit him. But it didn’t. “What the hells wrong with this bllloody thing…?” He tried the door handle. “Why won’t you lllet me in!” He shouted, rattling the handle harder. Why did you have to insist on all the bloody protection charms for the flat? Why does my inner voice sound suspiciously like Ron Weasley? Figures. The angel on one shoulder, the devil with red hair on the other. I get it. Let’s torment Harry until he cracks. Sounds good to me. He sighed heavily and finally found his keys in one of his pockets. He stared blankly at them for a second, forgetting which key to use to unlock the door. Then his fingers suddenly decided they didn’t want to work any more and the keys fell into the fresh snow at his feet. “Blast!” Harry hissed as he leaned against the door frame for support but at the same time bending down to retrieve his keys. The door didn’t help though. When he bent over, his head began to spin and he ended up on his bum in the snow. “Figuresss.” He said, suddenly giggling. Since when do I giggle? He stood up carefully, one leg at a time. Once he was relatively steady, Harry took a shaky step forward to insert the key into the lock. And that’s when the door flew open and he fell backwards in surprise, his black cloak spread out around him like a giant black bat against the white snow. “Harry!” Hermione shouted, her wand aimed at him, her face a mask of panic and relief. “You scared the life out of me!” “Could you p…point that thing,” he slurred, attempting to get up, “sssomewhere else?” He asked, his legs wobbling as he stood. With her hand over her stammering heart, she looked at him with a scolding look. “Harry James Potter, are you drunk?” She asked as she put her wand back in the pocket of her bathrobe. “No.” Harry said sounding insulted. Then he grinned devilishly at her. Ugh! That smile! Why does he do that?! Hermione thought. In the three years they had lived together Hermione had often wondered if there was more to that smile. It seemed to be reserved only for her. Harry certainly never smiled like that for Ron. More often than not, he would send off little signals her way she was sure he wasn’t even aware of, but it always gave her the tiniest hope that maybe, someday…. Truth be told, she had fallen in love with him sometime during their sixth year. The realization had hit her like the proverbial ton of bricks. But he hadn’t needed her throwing the “oh, by the way, Harry. I’m hopelessly, truly, deeply, completely, obsessively in love you” confession on him. The poor boy had had so much on his mind then: his beloved Godfather had disappeared through that horrid veil (she refused to believe he was really gone) and Harry had still been depressed about it, the pressures of exams he needed to pass to become an Auror, the onset of adulthood. And oh, yes…the knowledge of that damned prophecy, a power-hungry dark lord wanting him dead, and Harry either had to kill or be killed. Lovely, uh? But right now, as he looked at her with his glassy (but still brilliant) green eyes, she held her breath at what she saw in them. It’s just the alcohol, that’s all. That’s a look he gives to one of his girlfriends. Not me. Not Hermione “best friend” Granger. Wait…what is he doing? Oh, sweet Merlin! He’s leaning closer to me…he is NOT going to kiss me...is he? Trying to be cool and suave, Harry moved to put his hand on the door frame just above her head as he leaned towards her, but missed it and instead fell forward—and right into her. They landed with a thud on the parlor floor, Harry coming to rest on top of her. “Get off me!” She squealed, struggling beneath him. He grinned down at her sheepishly, their faces mere inches apart. “Wwwwwhat? You…you don’t llllike being pinned to the fffloor by the sexiesssst wizard alive?” Oh, you’re going to get it for that one. Ron’s voice was really getting irritating. “Ugh!” She pushed him off of her and he rolled to his back laughing. Hermione stood up and straightened her bathrobe out. Then she put her hands on her hips in traditional Hermione Granger “I’m now going to lecture you” mode. “What happened to ‘I’m just going to have a couple drinks with the boys?’” Harry stopped laughing and looked up at her. “Yeah, I had a couple.” He said holding up four fingers then looking at his hand like he was trying to see what he was looking at. His eyes, foggy as they were, suddenly took on a more serious look. “You really are beautiful when you’re angry.” He said, not smiling, not laughing…just looking at her. “Goodness, Harry.” She said rolling her eyes. She moved to the door, closing and locking it, then she looked down on him and scowled. “Go to bed.” She said, and headed back towards the stairs. “Wait…M…Mione,” he stammered, getting to his knees, “come on. I reeeally only had a fffew.” She stopped and turned. She looks so cute in her bathrobe. Her eyes softened as she looked at him. He really is adorable when…when…oh hell. He’s adorable all the time! “Do you need help walking?” She teased, grinning seductively and batting her eyes. He’s flirting with me, right? So why can’ t I do the same? Harry looked at her in shock. That little vixen! She’s doing that on purpose!!! You’re so in trouble, mate! She’s got you right where she wants you! She’s going to have you wrapped around her finger in a matter of seconds!! Yeah, thanks for the warning, Ron’s voice. The great Harry “The-Boy-Who-Lived and Man-Who-Defeated-the-Dark Lord” Potter turned into a pile of goo because of a girl! I’m warning you…. He grinned sheepishly at her. “Would you mind?” You cad! You can walk! She offered. Besides, if she wants to play… Hermione bent down to put her arm around his waist helping him to stand. He leaned into her, not really because he had to, but because that’s the way his body reacted to her. The way it always had. Like instinct. His arm automatically sought out her tiny waist and held on to her tightly as they climbed the stairs. “When did you get so heavy?” She asked, struggling with his weight. “Auror training, luuuv.” He said. “I’m alllll muscle you knnnow.” She rolled her eyes and took another step forward but was held back. She looked at him to see that Harry had stopped and fallen back against the wall. His eyes looked at her with something that shocked and confused her, but excited her all at the same time. Was she imagining it? Probably. Harry did lean forward, but not to do what she was hoping for. Instead, he leaned his forehead against hers. I really love you, you know. He blinked. Where did that come from?? Tell me I didn’t just say that out loud. No, you didn’t. But you know perfectly well where it came from. You feel that pounding in your chest? That’s where it came from…your heart. Why can’t you just admit it? Cause I’m a Gryffindor coward that’s why. I can deal with trolls and bucking broomsticks and dragons and death eaters and dark wizards and giant spiders and Draco Malfoy and… You’re rambling. Shut up. I can deal with all of it, but when it comes to admitting how I feel about her, I’m a complete and utter coward. But what the hell Life is too short and… Bloody hell, mate! You’re going to do it, aren’t you? Well, why not? You’re always bugging me to. No better time than the present, right? Right. Harry pulled back but remained close enough that she could feel his breath against her face. He smelled like fire whiskey and butter beer, but at the moment, she didn’t care. She could feel his warmth, his strong arms around her, she could see past the alcohol-induced haze in his gorgeous green eyes right through to his soul. That’s all she cared about. Her heart was pounding. She wondered if he could hear it. It’s the alcohol. That’s all it is. He steadied himself and gently took her beautiful face in his hands, slowly caressing her cheeks with this thumbs. “I really love you, you know.” I didn’t just say that, did I? Yep. Well done, mate. She gave him a nervous smile. Her eyes were full of questions. “I love you, too, Harry.” She said, her voice quiet and meek and unsure. She hoped he couldn’t feel how hard she was trembling. “You’re my best friend.” He scowled gently at her. He smiled and put his forehead back against hers. “No. I mean I really love you.” He said, his voice so quiet he wondered if she heard it. Hermione pulled back just a bit and stared at him, like a deer in headlights. Okay. There is no way he just admitted that he loves me. I did not just hear the words I have waited years to hear from his lips, did I? Now I know it’s the alcohol. “Harry…” She stammered, but before she could continue she felt his lips on hers. The world had suddenly started spinning. And spinning. And spinning. It was a chaste, clumsy kiss, but one she would remember for the rest of her life. But as soon as it had begun, it ended. Harry’s lips lazily pulled away from hers, dragging across her cheek, then his head suddenly fell to her shoulder. “Harry?” No answer. “Harry?” She managed to push him away and his eyes were closed. “Oh, you didn’t just pass out on me, did you?” She shook his shoulders gently. “Harry!” She said loudly. His eyes jerked open and he looked at her. He wasn’t sure what he was looking at, then recognition set in. “Hey, Mione.” He said, his eyes threatening to close again. She looked at him with confusion in her eyes. He doesn’t even remember it, does he? We just shared our first kiss, dammit, and he doesn’t remember it! Oh, I’ll get him for this!! “Come on.” She said, wrestling him into a standing position again. She tightened her arm around his waist and pulled him up the stairs. “You need a shower, then you need to go to bed.” “Okay.” He said, sounding very unsure of where he was or what was happening. She led him into his bedroom and sat him down on the bed. She took off his robe, the his shoes. “Now, get in there and clean up.” She said nodding towards the bathroom across the hall and sounding suddenly like Molly Weasley. Then her eyes turned soft and comforting. “And get some sleep, okay?” She leaned down and gently kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Harry.” “’nite, Mione.” He said and watched as she crossed his room. She turned back to face him at the door and smiled then she was gone. He didn’t move until he heard her door close down the hall. You’re grinning like an idiot. “Yeah, so?” He said out loud, then got up. “Okay. Shower.” He got up slowly and went across the hall into the bathroom and closed the door. As the hot water ran over his body, memories started coming back. We kissed didn’t we? Yep. Did I kiss her or did she kiss me? You are SO thick sometimes. Does it matter? Yes! I mean, well no. I guess not. He sighed and leaned against the wall. The water ran over his face and he closed his eyes. The room is still spinning. Yeah, and it will until you sleep it off, Romeo. Shut it. After washing up, Harry got out of the shower, dried himself off, then stood at the sink brushing his teeth. He looked up but was greeted only by a steamed up mirror. As he finished brushing his teeth, that goofy grin spread across his face. Throwing caution to the wind, he slowly started drawing a big heart on the mirror. You’re giggling again. Yep. What if she finds this? Harry just shrugged and continued until the heart was finished. Then he carefully wrote his initials, then hers beneath. “There.” He said, standing back to admire his artwork. He gripped the counter to balance himself as his head began to spin again. “Get some sleep.” He said out loud then wrapped a towel around himself and left the bathroom. He went into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. His feet shuffling on the floor as he eyed his bed. All he could think of now was his bed. And sleeping forever. Or at least until this passes. Remind me to never drink again. Yeah, right. That’ll happen. Harry fell on his bed and barely managed to get under the covers before passing out in a blissful, dreamless sleep. **************************** “Argh! Hey, turn the light off!” Harry opened one eye to yell at whomever had turned on the light, but then realized it was only the sun pouring in through the window beside his bed. He closed his eyes again and lay still for a moment. His head didn’t seem to be spinning anymore. That’s a good thing. He sat up and looked around. No spinning room. He seemed to be in control. He had one hell of a headache though. “Oh, man.” He groaned as he stood up slowly and swayed a bit, grabbing hold of the post of his bed. “Shower.” He trudged across his room and opened the door. The hallway was filled with sunlight, making him wince in pain. He looked up and saw that Hermione’s door was open. She must be up already. Going into the bathroom, Harry noticed it was still a bit humid. She must have already showered. No wonder it smells like vanilla. Merlin, I love her shampoo. Uh, huh. Shut up. He turned on the water and stepped into the shower, feeling his entire body relaxing as the hot water ran over him. He quickly washed, then got out and dried off. He kept his eyes closed while he brushed his teeth, the light in the bathroom hurting his head, then he reached for the mouthwash. And as he was bringing the cup to his lips, he froze. He was staring at the mirror. It was still steamed up from his shower. And traced into the steam was the shape of a large heart with letters in the middle of it: H.P. + H.G. 4EVR. The cup fell into the sink, the blue mouthwash splashing everywhere but he hardly noticed it. His mouth suddenly felt very dry and he frowned. “I did not. Tell me I didn’t….” Yep. You sure did. Ron’s voice seemed to really irritate him at this particular moment. The it started laughing. Try and explain your way out of this one! In full panic mode, Harry was about to throw the door open when that irritating voice of his red-headed best friend started in on him again. You might want to put something on. Not very noble of you to meet your lady love in the buff now is it? “Shut up!” Harry shouted. He wrapped a towel around his waist and darted across the hall into his bedroom, slamming the door. “Okay.” He said, pacing back and forth, the towel falling to the floor. “Okay. Maybe she didn’t notice it. It was just a joke.” In the ten years we’ve known her, has she ever NOT noticed anything? “No.” Harry said dejectedly. He stood in the middle of his bedroom, panic gripping him like a vice. He put his hands on his head. “I didn’t say anything last night, did I?” No. Nothing. Oh, unless you count that little bit about confessing your love to her. “What?” He shouted out loud. He seemed to just then realize that he was talking to himself. “I did not.” Oh, I beg to differ, mate. Twice in fact! “Argh!” Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay.” He said, walking into his closet and picked up the first clean jeans and shirt he could find. “I’ll just go down to breakfast and act like I don’t know anything. That I just have a hangover which I do and don’t remember anything that I did or said last night which I don’t.” Yeah, that’ll work. No one asked for your opinion. Just trying to help. You know best friend and all. Thanks. Harry quickly dressed and looked at himself in the mirror, running a nervous hand through his wet hair. “You look smashing as usual, deary.” It said. He just grinned sarcastically at it (himself) then took a deep breath. He opened his door and stood there for a second, then his scenes caught a whiff of whatever she was cooking for breakfast. His hunger took over and without a second thought of what lay ahead, he headed downstairs. **************************** He peeked around the wall into the kitchen and saw Hermione standing at the stove, stirring something. She was humming quietly and already dressed. But she looks so cute in her bathrobe. So, what? She doesn’t look cute in her regular clothes? Of course she does. Uh, huh. Harry took a deep breath and let it out. Here goes nothing. Good luck, mate. Shut it! He put a tired smile on his face and walked into the kitchen. “Good morning.” He said as cheerfully as he could manage considering the circumstances. Hermione turned and smiled at him. “Good morning, Harry.” Turning back to her cooking she said, “how’s your head?” Harry sat down at the table and put his head in his hands. “Not good.” He said truthfully. Did I just hear her giggle? Hermione doesn’t giggle. Sounds like maybe she knows something you don’t. The next time she turned around she had two steaming mugs of hot cocoa in her hands. She set one down in front of him and the other at her spot, then returned to the stove to take out the muffins she had been keeping warm in the oven. “Here you go. Eating something should help.” She said as she sat down opposite him. He smiled at her. “Thanks.” She returned in his smile, then lifted the mug to her lips. She never took her eyes off of him as she drank, making him shift in his seat. “What?” He asked. “Do I have marshmallow on my nose or something?” Hermione laughed softly. “No.” She said casually, taking a muffin and buttering it. The usual conversation that accompanied their morning breakfast ritual was absent this morning. I’ve heard of uncomfortable silences but this is ridiculous. I’ve never felt this awkward around her. What’s going on? I think you know. When I want your opinion I’ll give it to you, thanks very much. No need to get snippy with me, Potter. I’m not the one who…. “Enough!” He said, then looked up. He was horrified that he had just answered the Ron-voice out loud. Now she was going to think that maybe he was a complete nutter. Oh, that was classic, Potter. Good one! Hermione was looking at him intently, her chocolate eyes burning holes through him. “What?” “Er, um, nothing.” He said, getting up quickly and putting his mug and plate in the sink. He was about to turn the water on to wash up his dishes when suddenly he felt her presence beside him. He looked over to find Hermione grinning up at him. She held out a small towel that he immediately recognized as coming from the upstairs bathroom. As he turned towards her, he swallowed nervously and took it from her. “What’s this for?” His voice was shaky. The horror on his face was evident. With a gentle smile on her face, she reached up and put her hand on his cheek, brushing her thumb across his bottom lip. Staring straight into those deep green orbs that made women swoon (she was no different…she felt her knees getting weak) she whispered, “I really do love you, you know.” Those words sound vaguely familiar. They should. You said them twice last night! I DID NOT! Did to. Harry swallowed hard. Then he felt her hand slowly moving its way around to the back of his neck, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair. Before he knew what was happening, he felt her lips against his. Soft, warm, and inviting. What is she doing?!?! You really are a daft git, aren’t you? She’s kissing you, idiot! I know that, but… He suddenly felt cold as her lips pulled away from his. She lifted his hand that held the towel and smiled at him. “Some people use a towel to wipe the steam off the mirror.” She said simply. Harry knew he probably looked like a guppy fish, standing there with his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide. She saw it. Oh, dear Merlin. She saw the mirror, didn’t she? Yep. She sure did. And that laughing started again. Letting go of his hand, Hermione smiled softly then stepped back from him, turning towards the sink to finish the dishes. Harry just stood there. He was at a loss for words, for movement, for thought. Okay. She seems okay with all this, right? I mean, she didn’t kick me out. She didn’t hex me into the next century. This is good, right? I don’t know. Is it? Well, yes! I think so. Good. So stop overanalyzing everything and just go with it. See where it leads. You know, you’re starting to sound like her. Harry smiled. He was suddenly overcome with more confidence—and courage—than he swore he’d ever felt in his life, even when he had faced Voldemort!! He leaned forward and kissed the top of her head, then turned and left the kitchen to go clean up the mouthwash he just remembered had splashed all over the bathroom. Hermione didn’t turn or stop what she was doing. “Finally. He gets it.” She whispered, a gentle smile appearing on her face. Fin.