Afterglow

A/N: I felt kinda bad that I made so many people cry last week, so I wrote a tiny little piece of fluff, as requested by a few reviewers. Let it not be said that I’m insensitive. And guess what? Not an ounce of angst to be found. No twists, no turns, no surprises. It’s really quite boring. But you wanted fluff, so fluff you get.

Dedication: I’m dedicating this to Victoria Tonks. An ever-faithful reviewer whose heart I ripped out and tore to shreds. Um, sorry ‘bout that. Hope this helps.

Standard Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. (But if I did, you could count on a scene like this at the end of book 7.)

Afterglow

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you awake?"

"No."

"Yes, you are. Don’t lie to me."

"Damn. You caught me. Since I’m up, can I ask you why you’re wearing those bunny slippers in bed?"

"My feet are cold. And they were a get well present from Mrs. Weasley. They were all I could find by my bed to keep my feet warm."

"Huh. All I got was a lousy comb. And I thought I was keeping your feet warm."

"You’re keeping the rest of me warm. What are you doing? Put the covers back down. Why on earth are you looking at my bunny slippers?"

"Erm…not really looking at your bunny slippers…OW!"

"Stealing glances at things forbidden, are you?"

"You caught me again."

"Yes, I did catch you, didn’t I? Honestly, Harry. I can’t believe you were going to face him without me. I dread to think what trouble you would have gotten yourself into had I not shown up when I did."

"Not a smart thing for you to do, Hermione. He could have…he almost killed you. What were you thinking, anyway?"

"Must we go over this for the five hundredth time?"

"You brought it up, Miss I’m-So-Clever-I-Laugh-in-the-Face-of-Death."

"Well, to be fair, I didn’t exactly laugh. It was more like a light chuckle, wasn’t it? And I wasn’t going to let you run off and play hero and get yourself killed. If I had, then we wouldn’t be doing this…now…knowing what we know. This way, you get to feel all puffed up about the success of your saving-people-thing and lord it over me for the rest of our lives. And I get to revel in the fact that you love me and snog you senseless. Everybody wins."

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Was there a reason you woke me?"

"I didn’t wake you."

"Right. Sorry. Life with you is going to be all about precision, isn’t it? Was there a reason you kept me awake then?"

"There certainly is a reason. I’ve yet to receive my good night kiss."

"Oh yeah? All those other kisses don’t count?"

"Nope."

"Let me just call Filch for you, then."

"You do and I’ll hex your bollocks off."

"Well, that would be self-defeating. Can’t very well use them to your advantage if they’re all gone, can you?"

"And what advantage do they hold for me?"

"Do I really have to answer that? We’re in the Hospital Wing for pity’s sake. These walls have ears, you know."

"Do they? I wonder if they have eyes as well. I’m sure they’re quite shocked at all we’ve been getting up to in this rickety old bed."

"Yes, well, the fact that it’s rickety means they wouldn’t need the eyes. Besides, I reckon the ears would have picked up on the massive amounts of noise you were making. Either way, it’s a good thing we’re leaving Hogwarts next month or I’m quite certain they’d chuck us out for this little infraction."

"Oh yeah? I’d like to see them try. I would have no qualms setting them straight. I think the fact that you relieved the world of old Tommy Riddle and his band of Merry Men is enough to allow you a little snog in the Hospital Wing. It’s bad enough we’re both stuck in here. May as well make the best of it. Really, we’re just using our time wisely. I think that’s quite industrious of us. And the so-called ‘ears’ of the Hospital Wing are probably grateful that someone has finally had some fun in this pathetic excuse for a bed. That is, unless…what do you suppose Madam Pomfrey gets up to…."

"For the love of Merlin, don’t finish that sentence!"

"Sorry."

"I should think so! Blimey, Hermione. Madam Pomfrey?! That’s a mental picture I didn’t need."

"Honestly, Harry! She is a woman…with needs and desires just like any…mrmpht…mmm…."

"Mmmm…."

"Mmhmm…"

"Mmrm…"

"Yes. Well. What I was saying…was I…? What was I saying?"

"Dunno."

"Harry Potter. Did you kiss me to shut me up?"

"Never."

"Hmm. I see right through you, you know."

"Really? I knew I shouldn’t have let you in this bed. What exactly are you seeing right now?"

"Oh, stop wiggling your eyebrows already. I was only going to say that your nefarious plan was diabolical but well-executed. I’m quite impressed with your ability to think on your feet, and while recovering from injuries, no less. Which reminds me…how are you feeling?"

"Smashing right now, thanks. I reckon your idea of treating my injuries is a vast improvement over Madam Pomfrey’s. Oi! Stop right there, Granger. Those buttons were undone for a reason. I’m far too tired to go over the same ground twice."

"Oh, Harry, you’re so romantic. I’m in danger of swooning. You make me feel like…oh, I don’t know…a beautiful princess…a delicate flower…an overgrown garden that you can’t be fussed to weed."

"Not just any overgrown garden, sexy. My overgrown garden…with a lovely lilac scent and beautiful garden ornaments. Like this…and that…and let’s not forget this. Now, I’ll freely admit that this garden of mine tends to get a bit loud at times, what with all the chirpy sounds, and certain aspects of this garden may need to be trimmed back a bit, but it’s all in a day’s…OW!"

"Sorry. My knee has been twitching a bit since we got back. All part of my injury, I suppose."

"Your back injury?!"

"Yes, well, the nervous system is a mysterious and amazing thing. Why has your voice gone all high like that?"

"Dunno. May have something to do with you kneeing me in the nads. Not sure."

"Ohhh. So sorry. Would you like me to kiss you better?"

"No! Right. Now my high-pitched voice has not so much to do with the family jewels as it does with being completely terrified that you meant that last offer."

"Terrified?"

"Well…maybe stunned is a better word….Nope. Terrified fits the bill brilliantly."

"So, if I touch you…here…that might make you nervous?"

"Erm…Hermione! Sweet mother of Merlin, I’ve turned into Mickey Mouse!"

"I don’t think so. You don’t feel like a mouse to me, young Mr. Potter."

"That’s it, I am dead. I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming or I’m dead and they forgot to tell me. Hermione Granger — Head Girl, best friend, genius in residence, my Hermione — is not holding my…erm, bits and being all cat-like about it. Not possible."

"What’s wrong, Harry?"

"What’s wrong? What’s WRONG?! We just one week ago, erm, you know…fought, erm…the wizard, you know the one…really bad, erm…teeth, rancid breath…you know, erm…He-Who…Hermione! You’re distracting me!"

"Honestly, Harry. A girl could get a complex. Am I not doing this right or something?"

"No, no…no…you’re doing it right. As with everything, you get top marks."

"Now you’re just trying to seduce me."

"Pardon me? Hang on. That was giggling. Did you just giggle? I think you giggled. No, you definitely giggled. What are you playing at, you…you…giggler?! Who are you and what have you done with my Hermione?"

"Oh, Harry. I’m just so happy to be here. Next to you…playing. It may have taken a very close brush with death to make us own up to our feelings, but when you told me you loved me…the first thing I thought was ‘of course you do.’ Like it was the most natural thing in the world. The second thing I thought was, ‘I hope we make it out of here alive.’ The third thing I thought was, ‘I wish I was dressed in something prettier.’ I mean, honestly. That natty old jumper and those boyish trainers. The fourth thing I thought was, ‘Focus, Hermione, you’ve got bigger problems.’ And…was it? Yes, I think it was the fifth thing I thought…’I cannot wait until we get rid of Tom and Lucius and Bella and all those other Death Eaters and I get Harry alone and we can kiss and touch and get up to all sorts of naughty business.’ Why are you laughing?"

"Your mind is never on holiday, is it? The only thought in my head was, ‘How am I going to get Hermione out of here alive.’ Natty jumper? Bloody hell, Hermione. You were this close to getting hit with at least two AK’s that I recall. I didn’t notice your so-called natty jumper."

"What can I say? I think too much. It’s a curse."

"A very helpful curse. That beautiful brain of yours has gotten us out of quite a few tight spots."

"Mmm…tight."

"Are you feeling me up, Granger? You want to be careful where you…whoa! There’s that little hand again. I’m serious, Hermione. You’re scaring me."

"What are you afraid of? Aren’t seventeen year old boys meant to be so randy they’re practically in need of a hosing down every day?"

"Yes, they are. No ‘practically’ about it. And I want to, Hermione. I really want to. I mean, I want to soon. Very, very soon. But you have to know something first, before we…well, you know."

"What’s that?"

"I haven’t had any real experience in this area. I mean, other than…well, you know. And I want to be ready for you, so I can help you…well, you know. I mean, it’s important, isn’t it? This first time thing. I don’t want to ruin it for you because I’m a ruddy ponce who’s only ever…well, you know. Because if I don’t have some time to, erm, recover from these bloody injuries and all that, I’m afraid I won’t be able to make you…well, you know."

"Harry! You keep skipping over all the good parts with ‘well, you know,’ but there’s so much I’m supposed to know there. I don’t know! Oh, dear God, I don’t know any of it. It’s like facing that bloody boggart all over again. What was I thinking? I’ve been so concerned with finding spells and charms to deal with Voldemort, the old toad, that I haven’t researched…well, you know…not one bit! I need to get to the library!"

"Hermione?"

"What?"

"You didn’t have to take your hand off it."

"But I don’t bloody well know what I’m doing, do I?"

"Neither do I, but I’m fairly certain you’ve made the right start there."

"But, but…you just said….mrmmph…"

"For someone stuck in the Hospital Wing for a week, you taste surprisingly good."

"Mmm. You, too."

"I love that dreamy look you get when I kiss you."

"I love kissing you."

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you, er, say it again?"

"Say wh…. Oh, Harry. I’ll say it as often as you’d like. I love you. I love you, love you, love you. So very much."

"I’m such a sap. I’ve never sighed this much in my life."

"Yes, well, there is also the tiny little fact that you’ve gotten rid of the psychotic egomaniac who was trying to murder you. I don’t suppose I can take all the credit for your good mood."

"I will admit that’s a perk. But it’s mostly you. You, here, with me, in this bed, with your pretty petite hand perched precariously on my…."

"Nice alliteration."

"I was going to say chest. Get your mind out of the gutter. I don’t know what your other hand’s gotten up to."

"Don’t you?"

"Ahaaa…right. There it is. No need to squeeze."

"Squeezing’s no good, then?"

"No, squeezing is too good. Just…don’t move."

"Harry? What are we going to tell Ron?"

"You’re joking, right? C’mon, Hermione. Ron might be a bit thick at times, but he’d have to be unconscious not to have noticed already."

"Noticed what?"

"Hermione! We were bundled up together when they found us. I was holding your hand so tight they couldn’t separate us when they were dragging us off to hospital."

"But, Harry. You had just survived the most harrowing experience of your life. You saved my life. You are my best friend. It doesn’t have to mean…."

"Right. What about when you woke up at St. Mungo’s, before they transferred us here, and you came running down the hall like a madwoman, dressed in a hospital gown and screaming my name? Still best friend behaviour?"

"Yes. And I was not screaming. I was simply making myself heard. There were so many people on that ward it was ridiculous."

"Ooookay. Well, the fact that I could hear you and I was still unconscious should tell you something. How about when I woke up? Ron was in my room. I didn’t realise it, of course, until I asked for you at least a dozen times. I got a bit panicky about it, as well. He kept telling me to calm down."

"Harry, that’s all circumstantial evidence. And you know Ron. Even if he does know, he’s going to want us to admit to it, to explain it. Ugh. I reckon I’d prefer detention."

"It’ll be all right. You’ll see. It has been a long time in coming, hasn’t it? I think perhaps Ron has known…how I feel about you, that is. I’ve caught him once or twice, rolling his eyes or smirking at me after I’ve been talking to you or…looking at you. I guess he caught me as well."

"You’ve been looking at me?"

"Yes, well…I hadn’t really noticed it myself. I just thought my eyes managed to…land…on you…a lot."

"You are by far the most adorable person I know."

"Adorable? I’m meant to be dashing and handsome and ‘that hard.’"

"Well, I can confirm that last point."

"Naughty, naughty. And what about the first two points?"

"As if they’re in doubt. Who could resist you with those eyes, and that bum, and let’s not forget your smile. Definitely a swoon-worthy smile."

"You reckon? I haven’t noticed too many swooning girls."

"Noticing things is not your strong suit, Harry. And you haven’t had too much occasion to flash that goofy grin of yours as of late. I’m going to make sure you have much more to smile about from now on."

"Are you? And this goofy grin of mine is enough reward for all your efforts?"

"More than enough. That goofy grin is enough to make me drop my knickers for you."

"Hermione! Good lord, you’re giggling again. Wait! What is that infernal hand of yours doing? Hermioneeee…."

"I don’t reckon we need the library, Harry. And I promise — I’ll be gentle."

"Right. You are a quick study, after all."

"Exactly."

"Mmmm…"

"Mmrmhmm…"

"Hermione? I love you more than anything. Now lose the bunny slippers. I can’t do this while they’re staring at me."