AM I TOO LATE
An Almost Kiss
Chapter Thirteen
Hermione stood outside Ron and Harry's flat and waited. Soon, she heard the telltale pops of the others Apparating around her.
"Did you Apparate drunk?" Ron asked in disbelief. "What the hell is wrong with you? You could have splinched yourself."
"Ron, I'm fine. I could Apparate in a coma," she said, and she sidestepped into the door.
Harry grabbed her by the elbow and shook his head. "Only you could Apparate while drunk and still be stumbling around into things. Here, Justin, cast the Sobering Charm on Hermione," Harry said.
Justin strolled over to Hermione and cast the charm while tapping her head playfully. "There, love, all better. No more follies," he said.
It took a moment for Hermione's head to clear, but the previous conversation still resided as clear as ever in her mind. She'd almost admitted to Harry that she would have sex with him on the pub table. She rubbed her fingers against her forehead.
"You okay?" Harry asked as Ron unlocked the flat door. The others crowded in the entranceway and entered one after another.
"Yeah, sure. I'm fine." She walked into the flat without looking back at Harry.
Once inside, Hermione grabbed Ginny's arm and tugged her away from the group. "Why didn't you stop me?" Hermione asked.
"And stop your one way train to Blabbermouth, no way."
"Ginny, I'm serious," Hermione whispered. "I practically admitted that I'd have sex with Ridley and that I'd have a nice go at it with one of our friends!"
Ginny snickered. "Ouch, Hermione, don't hit me. That hurts. It's funny. You have to admit that goody goody Hermione talking about sex is funny. Perhaps I should be looking for the Four Horsemen."
Hermione groaned and left Ginny giggling in the hallway. She walked into the living room. Seamus and Dean were roping Ron into a game of Exploding Snap for old time's sake. Neville excused himself to use the bathroom, and when Ginny walked into the living room she planted herself in Justin's lap. Harry leaned back on the couch and stretched his legs onto the coffee table. He looked up at her as she entered.
"Want to watch an old Muggle movie?" he asked.
Hermione shrugged and sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. He frowned but said nothing. "What did you have in mind?"
"Why don't you pick?" he said.
Hermione pointed her wand at the bookshelf that housed all the movies. Soon a movie was floating across the room and loading itself into the player.
"What did you pick?" Harry asked.
"You'll see," she said and sighed. She must be losing her mind. She'd just voluntarily chosen to watch a sappy romance movie. Maybe she was a masochist without the sexual pleasure.
"Are we watching a Muggle movie?" Ginny asked as she snuggled against Justin on the loveseat.
"Oh, I love Muggle movies," Justin admitted. "I bet Hermione picked something scary and full of blood." He laughed when he saw Hermione's shocked expression.
"For your information I chose a documentary on the migratory patterns of Humpback whales," she said indignantly.
Harry cast a sidelong glance at her and chuckled. "You're a horrible liar," he said. And she smiled though she would not look at him.
* * * *
Beth stood on a balcony that overlooked the Paris streets below. The Eiffel Tower was lit up and flickered through the darkness. She puffed on the end of her cigarette and cursed.
"What's wrong?" a man asked from the bedroom.
"I bloody forgot to send Harry an owl," she said. She tossed her unfinished cigarette off the balcony and walked into the bedroom through the open french doors.
"I think he'll survive," the man said.
Beth glanced at the bed and frowned. Yves Laroque propped himself up in bed. The sheets bunched around his waist. He smoked his cigarette with languor and grace. His naked chest revealed the body of an athlete, and that's what had attracted her to him at first. They'd slept together the first day she'd seen him strut down the catwalk in one of her designs. Six foot two, blonde and blue eyed, she would have been foolish to turn down his advances. He was the most sought after model in all of Europe.
"I know he'll survive, but I told him I would owl him, and it's your fault I've forgotten," she said. She formed her lips into a pout.
Yves flung the sheets off his body and smirked at her. "I don't think you were complaining earlier. I don't know why you stay with him. Marrying Potter will ruin what we have," Yves said. He rose out of bed and walked across the room to place kisses on her neck.
"Marrying Harry won't change us. He'll never move to Paris."
"Another reason for you to get rid of him. Who gives a bloody fuck if he's The Boy Who Lived?"
"I do, Yves, now stop kissing me. I have things to do," Beth whined. He brushed her hair from her shoulders and kissed down her collarbone. Then, he pushed her robe down, and it puddled on the floor at her feet.
"But does Potter make you feel like this?" he asked. She moaned but said nothing else as he buried her in kisses.
* * * *
Ginny yawned and climbed over Justin, who was snoring loudly on the loveseat. "It's after midnight," she mumbled as she stumbled out of the living room and down the hallway.
Hermione held her hands up to her mouth and sighed as the movie reached its climatic ending-the part where the girl and guy get together and the world is right and things fall into place just as they should.
She sighed again. "I love this movie," she whispered. She blinked away happy tears. When she looked at Harry, he was smiling at her in a way that made her want to blush. "What?" she asked.
"I'm just amazed at how you can watch the same movie hundreds of times and still sigh and smile and cry at the ending," he said.
"It makes me happy," Hermione said defensively.
"I know. I just think it's…it's…"
"It's what?" she asked.
"I don't know…it's just…you," he said. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned.
"What does that mean?" she asked.
Harry slid closer to her on the couch, and Hermione had no where to go. She pressed her back against the armrest.
"It just means it's you, and it's what makes you so attractive."
Hermione had no response for a few passing seconds, and she simply stared openmouthed at Harry. "I'm…attractive?"
"Yeah. Of course you are," he said honestly.
"Oh…well, thanks…I mean…you're…I think you're attractive, too," she stumbled.
Harry reached out and pushed a stray hair from her face. "Thanks," he said. Hermione closed her eyes when his fingers brushed her cheek. When she opened her eyes, Harry was watching her, and what she saw in his eyes, made her stand abruptly.
She glanced around. Ron had already gone to bed. Neville was sleeping in the recliner, and his head was cocked at an awkward angle. Hermione shoved a pillow beneath his head, and all he did was snort in response. Dean was sleeping on the kitchen floor, and Seamus was sprawled out on the rug in the living room.
"I should get home," she said. Maybe watching the sappy love story was a bad idea. Now I don't know whether to float home on a cloud or cry myself to sleep, she thought.
Harry stood up and stepped around the bodies in the living room. He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels.
"You're right," Harry said. "It's late, and I'd say you could stay but-"
"-But I better not," she finished.
"I agree."
Hermione placed her hands on her hips. "You agree? I've stayed over a million times."
Harry pulled his hands from his pockets and shoved them helplessly through his hair. "I know, but…this time it's different," he said.
"Different?" she asked. Then, realization dawned on her. "Oh, because you're engaged."
Harry took a few steps toward her, and Hermione looked up at him. Her hands fell to her sides. "No. It's not because I'm engaged."
"It's not?" she asked.
Before he could stop himself, Harry reached out and placed his hand on Hermione's cheek. Her sudden inhalation of breath jumpstarted his pulse. When she reached up and placed her hand on top of his and leaned into his touch, he swallowed down the dryness in his throat.
"You are so beautiful," he whispered.
She looked up at him and tears glistened in her eyes. She could say nothing due to the knot forming in the back of her throat. But she reached out and rested her other hand on his chest. Harry took another step closer to Hermione, and she didn't push him away.
He traced the outline of her lips with his fingertip, and she closed her eyes. Her breath escaped in a quiver. Inside Harry's head was a rush of madness. He leaned toward Hermione with the full intention of kissing her, and at the last moment, just before his lips brushed against hers, he pulled away.
"Bloody hell," he said, planting his face into his hands. When he dropped his hands and looked at Hermione, silent tears spilled from her lower lids and left wet tracks down her cheeks.
"I should go," she said in a broken whisper. Harry turned away from her and nodded. The sight of his back to her almost ripped a sob from her throat. "I'll get my things and go." In a rush, she gathered her coat and wand and hurried to the door. She gripped the doorknob and took one last glance over her shoulder. Still with his back to her, Hermione bit her lower lid to control the sorrow that tried to burst out.
Once out in the hallway, she cried fiercely as she held out her wand and Apparated home to her flat.
Harry walked to the couch and dropped onto it. He covered his face with his hands. He felt as though something had ripped itself from his chest.
"What's going on, Harry," Ginny asked.
He dropped his hands. "Oh, Ginny, I thought you were sleeping."
"Nah. I started looking at Ron's Quidditch Truth magazine, and I lost track of time. So, what's going on?" she asked.
"Nothing." Harry leaned his head back on the couch.
"That's not what I mean. What's going on with you and Hermione?"
"Nothing," he said.
Ginny sat down beside Harry and turned to face him. "Harry, you know I love you-" Harry looked startled, and she laughed. "Like a brother. That one year at Hogwarts assured me that you were simply a crush. But I love you like I love Ron. Therefore I think I can speak to you like I speak to him."
"Of course you can," Harry said while rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.
"If you don't straighten up and stop this bullshit with Hermione, I am going to hex you. Badly. That's a promise."
"W-what?" His eyes were wide with surprise.
"What are you doing? Seriously, Harry, this has to stop."
Harry rubbed his forehead. An ache formed behind his eyes. "I love Beth, I really do. Yeah, she's a bit self-absorbed and pushy, but I love her."
"I'm going to get us a couple of root beers. Keep talking," Ginny said as she crossed the room and carefully stepped over Dean.
"You know how we met, right?" Harry asked.
Ginny popped the tops on two root beers. She returned to the living room and handed Harry a drink. "No, I don't think so."
"I was at a party for Ron's Quidditch team. She was dating a Chaser, one of his teammates, Stephen Shoche-"
"-oh, he's handsome," Ginny chimed in.
"Yeah, well, that's where we met. Of course I thought she was beautiful, but she was dating Stephen, and he was a nice enough bloke. I don't go around taking guys' girlfriends. But a week later, I get this call from her, and we went out to dinner, and that was over two years ago. We've been together ever since."
"Okay," Ginny said as she sipped her root beer. "What is it about her that has kept you with her for all this time?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know the specifics. We do have a great time together. She's a lot of fun when she's around. She's a great kisser," he said and then blushed. Ginny poked him in the ribs. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize. I think Justin is a great kisser, but that doesn't mean I'm going to marry him," Ginny said.
"That's not why I'm marrying her."
"Then, why are you?" she asked.
"It seems right. It seems like the next step. I do love her," Harry said.
"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" Ginny asked.
Harry clenched his fists in frustration. "Ginny, I do love Beth."
"Okay, so you love Beth. I get it. But you also love Hermione," she said simply.
"Of course I love Hermione. She one of my best friends."
"But you don't try to kiss your best friends," she said.
"W-what? I didn't…" Harry looked at Ginny, and she cocked an eyebrow up at him. He shoved his hands through his hair over and over again. "I don't know…I don't know what happened. It was out of nowhere. She was standing there looking at me, and I was looking at her, and I had this urge to…to…"
"Kiss her?"
"Yes, oh bloody Merlin. What is wrong with me? I'm engaged to be married. I can't go around kissing other women, and I certainly can't go around kissing Hermione." Harry stood up and began pacing back and forth.
"But you wanted to kiss Hermione. She's not just some other woman. She's Hermione, your best friend for years, the girl who has been by your side for everything."
"I know who she is, Ginny," Harry argued. Neville snorted and turned over in the recliner.
"I'm simply trying to tell you that I don't think it was only hormones that made you want to kiss Hermione."
Harry stopped pacing and looked at Ginny. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that you're in love with Hermione-"
"-no way. I am not in love with Hermione. I'm in love with Beth."
Ginny put her empty root beer bottle on the coffee table and stood up. She shrugged. Harry looked torn, exasperated, despairing. "Okay, Harry. You win. You're not in love with Hermione. You weren't trying to kiss her tonight. You don't think about her when you're apart. And you definitely can't see yourself needing her for the rest of your life. Goodnight," Ginny said as she walked to the door.
"Is she going to hate me if I marry Beth? Will she hate me for what I almost did tonight?" Harry asked. His voice was desperate and distressed.
Ginny opened the door and looked back at Harry. She shook her head sadly. "Hermione could never hate you." Then she turned and closed the door.
Harry stared at the door long after Ginny was gone. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Hermione and her tears. Never mind Ginny hexing him, he wanted to hex himself. How could he have almost kissed Hermione? And even worse than that, was every time he thought of that moment, he knew he wouldn't change it. He'd still try to kiss her over and over again-and if he closed his eyes and imagined long enough, sometimes his and Hermione's lips would meet, and it would send him soaring.