`Pleasantly Surprised'
Disclaimer: I don't own much of anything, actually. Let's see here...the bed's not mine -- my parents bought it, my mom made the payments on the computer -- not me, the phone I got for Christmas a couple years ago...ummmmm...the TV's half mine...does that count for anything? Oh, hey wait! I bought this pencil!! *holds miniscule writing utensil up to computer screen* Isn't it lovely? And it's mine; ALL. MINE. Muahahahahahaha. Hmph. Okay. Well. The point was that I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I possess any other characters mentioned in the story below. Or the Astronomy Tower, for that matter. It's disappointing, really. Just…don't sue me, alright?
~*~*~*~
Hermione Granger despised the Astronomy Tower.
She hated the endless trek through the corridors to reach it. She hated the cheeky grins and waggled eyebrows that surfaced whenever anyone mentioned its name and, most of all, she hated the fact that she couldn't accept mere O's, and insisted on doing extra-credit work for Professor Sinistra; work that entailed being in the coldest part of the castle - save the dungeons - at midnight.
It was freezing; she was tired, and wanted nothing more than to curl up under the covers of her four-poster and sleep. The planets though, she knew, would only remain in this particular line-up for one night, and the star charts she held in her hand were banking on very specific patterns. As little as she was looking forward to the next hour, it would be necessary if she had any hope of maintaining her position as first in class.
She scaled the spiral staircase quickly and quietly, pausing at the top and listening for a moment. Silence reigned, and she pushed the heavy door open.
A sharp movement from the corner of the balcony caught her eye as she stepped out into the cool night air, and she groaned inwardly. What was it about this place? It was a bleeding classroom for Merlin's sake! McGonagall's room after hours - not a soul in sight. Flitwick's? Deserted. Yet, for some god-forsaken reason, the Astronomy Tower was constantly flooded with…activity. Clearly, her peers couldn't be expected to control themselves. Leave a space empty for more than five minutes and they'd jump at the chance of gaining their own private snogging corner. It was rather pathetic, really.
She rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly, biting out a "Sorry," before turning toward the door once more. Someone coughed lightly and she instinctively glanced in the direction of the sound, blinking in surprise after a moment of recognition. "Harry?"
Merlin; she didn't want to see this.
Walking in on Ron and Luna during her rounds last year had been traumatizing enough (though rather amusing, she had to admit), but Harry?! Something inside snapped and she gasped, her breathing coming up short as she groped blindly for the door handle…and stopped.
He was alone.
Relief flooded to the tips of her toes, and she struggled to suppress the wave of giddy energy that coursed through her.
Harry spun around, squinting into the darkness and clearing his throat briskly. "Hermione? What are you doing here?"
She held up the sheaf of parchment in her hand, "Schoolwork. Why? What're you here for?"
He shrugged. "Just…thinking. Ron was snoring, and there were still a few people left in the common room, so…I don't know. It's a bit cold, but quiet, at least."
She nodded and moved closer to where he stood leaning against the squat stone wall. "Thinking about anything in particular?"
He looked away, tracing the outline of a rock in the ledge before him while avoiding her gaze. "Oh, you know; this and that. Meaningless, I suppose."
An eyebrow quirked involuntarily. "`Meaningless' as in `Thinking about Voldemort', meaningless?"
He gave her a calculating stare before relenting. "Somewhat. Not exactly."
"Not exactly?"
"Exactly."
"What? Stop it, Harry, you're confusing me." The boy talked in code; it was ridiculous.
He smiled slightly. "You think they'd give me house points for that?"
She swatted him lightly on the arm. "No, they most certainly would not!"
The smile turned into a small grin and he chuckled softly. "Hmm. That's a shame." His eyes pulled away from hers to look out across the grounds below and his grin slowly disappeared, leaving only a trace of humor behind. "What are we going to do, Hermione? After Hogwarts, I mean; when this is all over. That's what I was thinking about."
"After…" she repeated softly, drumming her fingers on the ledge and staring out at the lake. "I don't know. Ron'll probably go out, become rich and famous, and live happily ever after. You'll…you'll defeat Voldemort, find some gorgeous witch, and finally be able to live a normal life…"
"And you?" he prompted, leaning forward.
"Me? I'll likely find some merit-worthy career, devote all of my time and energy to it alone, and lose my best friends."
He frowned. "You won't lose me, Hermione; I won't allow it. I'll drop by your flat every day to make sure you haven't forgotten my name, and by the end of the first week, you'll be wishing you could get rid of me."
A sidelong glance told her that his lips were upturned in the beginnings of a smile.
"So." He continued conversationally, startling her as he turned abruptly. "Tell me more about this `gorgeous witch'. What's she like?"
She rolled her eyes and shoved him away. "Harry…"
"No, really, Hermione; what's she look like? I've got to know so I can recognize her, right?"
She forced a grin and closed her eyes, feigning concentration. "She has…a face. Eyes of…some color or another; maybe blue. And hair. Short, perhaps…"
Brilliant. `Eyes of some color or another…' What was she trying to pull? She couldn't very well tell him that the `gorgeous witch' she'd always pictured him with was really rather plain…and had features holding a suspiciously striking resemblance to her own. Harry wasn't daft; if she mentioned boring brown eyes or hair of the same color he'd catch on…and likely run in the other direction.
"Well." She heard him say, and opened her eyes to find him looking at her appraisingly. "I'd say that was one of your better descriptions."
"I thought so, myself." She replied, "It's a gift of sorts, I suppose."
"Yes," he agreed, nodding seriously, "but not a very good one, perhaps. You're wrong."
"Wrong?" she asked, puzzled. "About what?"
"What she looks like." He stated simply. "I've pictured her before, too."
Of course. Small; delicate. Dark, almond-shaped eyes. Hermione knew exactly who the `gorgeous witch' in Harry's mind looked like.
"She does have a face," he was saying slowly, "you were right on that count. But her eyes aren't blue. They're darker, the color of…"
Damn it. Why was he doing this to her? Did he actually believe that she wanted to listen to him blather on about his perfect woman? He'd gone absolutely mental.
He stepped closer, tugging on a lock of her hair, and she realized with a start that he was still talking. "Brown hair."
What? "What?"
Amber eyes, wild brown hair -" He was twirling the strand he'd trapped around one finger, and she couldn't think straight. Her brain shuddered to a start, eyes widening in surprise as realization set in. But, he couldn't mean…could he?
The hand in her hair came to rest at the nape of her neck and her eyes met his. He was staring and she was trapped, every second that passed causing her to fall further; to lose herself in his piercing green gaze more completely than before. "Harry, I -"
And suddenly she couldn't speak. His mouth descended on hers, claiming it in a searing kiss that sent her mind reeling and her heart spinning out of control. She stood, numb with shock for only a moment before her body hummed to life; arms moving up to wrap themselves around his neck, fingers tangling in thick, dark hair, lips parting slightly in silent invitation. He accepted, his left hand moving to the small of her back, urging her closer, right angling her head back as he deepened the kiss.
Her brain was short-circuiting, her heart beating erratically, and Hermione knew that if she didn't break away from him soon she'd likely die from lack of oxygen, but…this was so new, so longed for, so…everything. If she did die, it would be happily at the very least.
As if hearing her thoughts Harry pulled away suddenly, gasping heavily for breath. He ran shaking fingers through his hair and straightened his glasses, carefully avoiding eye-contact. "I - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have - sorry."
She frowned. "Are you, really?"
He looked up at that, eyes searching hers. The beginnings of a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth and he reached out, touching her check tentatively with the back of one cupped hand. "No. Not really."
"Good." She smiled and took a few steps forward, closing the short distance between them. His hands landed lightly at her waist and she grabbed a fistful of his robes in her own, standing on her tiptoes and brushing her nose against his until their lips were a hair's breadth apart. "Neither am I."
He grinned; a smile that disappeared instantly as she pulled him down to her once more.
~*~*~*~
It was half an hour later as they were sitting on the floor of the tower watching the stars that Hermione heard the door creak open. Her mouth opened silently, questions arising, but paused when Harry turned her face towards his and kissed her softly. She made to push him away and stopped, her hands moving to frame his face instead as her head grew considerably lighter and rational thoughts hazy. Someone sighed deeply and a huffy voice muttered "Honestly," before the door clicked shut and they were alone again. Harry pulled back, emerald eyes unfocused, and looked in the direction of the sound. "Wha-?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, placing an index finger to his lips and leaning in. People could be so uptight; what did they expect?
This was the Astronomy Tower, after all.
A/N: Eh. It's my reaction every time I read this. `Eh.' The whole thing goes a little too quickly for my liking… Bam, bam, BAM - and it's over.
I'll say it again, because I can't seem to stress it enough: `Eh.'
Though I suppose it's what you get when you come up with an idea at 11:30 on a Friday night and scribble a few random paragraphs in a notebook. I mean, honestly, it's better than what popped into my head in the first place: some insane notion about comparing love to a lottery ticket. You could be reading that right now, instead, so…be grateful. ;)
In any case, it's completed. A bit out-of-character and definitely short, but completed all the same.
Review, and make my day…
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