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Make Like Strangers - Part 2 by Make Like Strangers
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Make Like Strangers - Part 2

Make Like Strangers

Chapter 4

The world disappeared when Harry apparated them from Malfoy Manor. When they "landed", they fell to the floor, Harry coming to rest on top of her. As he moved to kiss her again, Hermione pushed up on his chest and he rolled off her, falling to the floor with a thud. "What?!?" He demanded, thoroughly confused. Had we not just been going at it? Didn't she want it? After that dance, it sure as hell seemed like it!

Hermione took several deep breaths while she paced back and forth before him. "We need to talk, Harry."

He got up quickly and wrapped his arms around her, needing to taste her again, needing to feel her softness in his arms. "Later," he breathed into her face as his lips barely brushed against hers before she pushed him away again.

"I mean it!" she shouted at him. "And besides, I think after the cold-shoulder treatment you've been throwing my way since Monday, I think you deserve a bit of it yourself. I need to step back and assess this."

"We're not bloody potions experiments, Mione!" he said desperately, his hands aching to touch her, his throbbing erection needing to be sheathed inside of her. "What's to assess anyway? You want me, I want you," he stated confidently. "Why does this have to be so bloody complicated?"

"Because it is!" She exclaimed. "Look. We're not going anywhere else with this," she waved her hand between them, "until we talk about it." She looked deep into his eyes. "I have to know where we're going from here. I have to know what there is between us." Her voice was quiet, almost meek. This was something that was going to change the rest of her life, and in typical Hermione Granger fashion, she needed to examine it from every angle.

Harry looked into her eyes and realized she wasn't going to back down. His erection was getting painful, but it was clear to him that there would be no release anytime soon. His shoulders slumped in defeat. He had conceded...as usual. "Fine. So let's talk."

She nodded, grateful that he was understanding. "Let's go back to my hotel." Harry smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but her cold gaze shut him up. "And we'll talk in the bar."

He rolled his eyes, but just nodded. Ugh! I'm going to explode if she keeps yanking my chain like this! Then again, her yanking my chain is exactly what I need right now! He held out his hand towards the door. "After you."

She straightened her dress, then walked from the room. Curious glances were cast their way as they came down the rickety stairs into the main lounge area of the Leaky Caldron, but they said nothing to no one. They quickly went outside where Harry hailed a cab.

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"The Holiday Inn on High Street, please," Hermione said quietly to the cabbie as Harry climbed into the cab after her.

"Yes, ma'am." The driver replied and started the cab off down the street.

Harry noticed that Hermione was sitting as far away from him as she could. He frowned. This is not good. "What's the matter?" He asked quietly.

She wouldn't look at him. Instead, she just shook her head in a "we'll talk later" gesture.

Harry sighed and looked out at the passing London streets. The pressure in his groin had subsided quite a bit, but he was still terribly uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat and tried to inconspicuously adjust himself. Ah, that's better. Well, not really, but I'll have to deal with it, won't I?

He looked over at her and studied her profile. She looked so sad. Ever since this situation had started Monday, she had had the look of a woman overcome with lust and desire…and love. Where was it now though? All of those emotions he had seen on her beautiful face were gone. And he knew was the cause, at least indirectly. Isn't it always my fault? "Mione?" She sighed, and then looked at him. He returned her gaze, then scooted a bit closer to her. He rested his hand on her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. "What is it?"

She looked down at his hand where it was now slowly stroking the inside of her knee and then back up at him. Without answering him, she looked back out the window. Harry sighed and removed his hand. He scooted back across the seat and looked outside again. This talk is not going to go well.

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Hermione was already walking into the hotel by the time Harry had paid the driver. He ran up the sidewalk and had to pull the door open, which had already shut behind her. "Wait up," he said running up behind her. As they walked into the bar, they were a bit unnerved that it was so full. Then again, no one would look twice at them as they blended into the crowd. The bartender looked up at them and politely nodded. "You want a drink?" Harry asked into her ear.

"Yes, please. Something strong," she said without looking at him, and went off to select the booth in the farthest corner.

Harry pursed his lips. "Okay," he said, then approached the bar. "Hi. Can I have two double shots of whiskey, please?" The bartender nodded and turned away. Harry faced away from the bar, resting his back against it. He studied Hermione sitting in the booth on the far side of the room. She had her cheek resting in her hand. She looked like she was on the verge of tears.

"Here you are, sir."

Harry turned back to the bar and threw a large bill down to cover their tab. "Keep the change for now. We'll probably want more."

"Very good, sir," the bartender said, taking the bill.

Harry took the two glasses to the booth and slid in across from her. "Here you go," he said, setting a glass down in front of her.

"Thank you," she said, downing it quickly.

"Hey, take it easy," Harry warned, concerned. Hermione had never been one to drink, much less throw back a double shot like she'd been doing it for years. He, however, had done that on several occasions. The first few times he'd done it, it had been to dull the emptiness he felt after Voldemort was defeated. His destiny had been fulfilled. Great. Wonderful. What had there been for him then? What was he supposed to do with the rest of his life? He hadn't thought he'd ever live long enough to figure something out for a future. Fire whiskey had been a wonderful means of escape for a while. Then it had become a habit, and Harry had forced himself to stop turning to it for comfort.

Then when he entered the dating game, drinking every now and then was a way to numb the pain of a broken relationship. And he'd had several of them. So he knew exactly that look in Hermione's eyes now. He'd had it himself before. But to see it in those beautiful brown orbs unsettled him.

She shook her head. "I need it to get through this."

Harry scowled at her. "Is talking to me that difficult?" She looked up at him and he gave her a gentle smile. "It didn't used to be."

"Yeah, well," she began quietly, "'used to be' doesn't exactly qualify here, does it?"

Harry took a sip of his drink and sat back, his arms lying out across the back of the booth. "We're still friends, aren't we?"

This question took her by surprise. Were they still friends? "Are we?" She was desperately afraid of his answer. Having had him had fulfilled her inner-most desires, but in doing so, they had crossed that damned line. The line that had been drawn for them years ago by some unseen force-be it destiny or fate or whatever-that neither one of them acknowledged, but it was there nonetheless.

Harry frowned at her response. "I'd like to think so," he said quietly, his eyes not leaving hers.

She looked down at the napkin she now found scrunched up in her hand. "But now?" She hesitated, her voice cracking as if she was on the verge of crying. She was unsure if she was really ready to truly open her heart to him. But hadn't she already done that…through her actions more than words? She had told him the first night they were together that she loved him. But his response, even though she had said she was happy with whatever she could get, had vexed her and pierced her heart the second he'd said it. It affected her so much, she had thought about little else all week. He hadn't responded to her words the way she had hoped, so every time they'd been together since had been simply from some intense need of hers to try to show him that she loved him.

It was not until tonight as she danced for him that the thought of him only participating in these trysts with her had been for merely physical pleasure. She hadn't let herself think of that possibility…that Harry would only be interested in sex and nothing else from her. But the reality of it had hit her hard when he had gotten her off during the party. She finished the dancing feeling used and dirty and ashamed. She had thrown herself into this full force, hoping to get him to want and need and love her as much as she did him. But it appeared now that it was backfiring because all he seemed to want and need and love was sex with her….

"Hermione?"

She blinked at the sound of her name and looked up at him. "Sorry."

He sat up and reached across the table, gently resting his hand atop hers, slowly moving his thumb back and forth over the back of her hand. She refused to feel the shivers that ran up and down her back. His touch was fire. It was like lighting a match to a candle wick. He burned her. She slowly removed her hand from beneath his and frowned. "We have to stop this, Harry," she said quietly, the bitterness of the words striking her in the heart as if someone had thrown the killing curse at her.

Harry felt the color drain from his face. He really thought he'd heard her wrong. "What? Why?" He was confused. "I thought this is what you wanted."

"Yes," she looked up at him, "it is." The desperation in her eyes was like a physical thing Harry could reach out and touch. It made his stomach tighten. "But this isn't just about me," she continued. "It's about you, too. About us." Harry just looked at her, hoping she would go on because his mouth felt like it couldn't form any coherent words at the moment.

Hermione suddenly reached forward and grabbed his hand, holding onto it for dear life. She felt frantic, like if she let go of him now, she'd lose him forever. This was it. This was the ultimate crossroads for them. This night, this conversation would shape their relationship-in whatever form it took after this-for the rest of their lives.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I need," she swallowed, feeling her throat going dry, "I need to know what you've gotten out of all this, Harry."

Harry couldn't believe she had just asked that. What had he gotten out of this? That was easy! The most incredible sex of his life! Feelings of rapture he never knew existed. Yeah, but that's not the answer she's looking for, you dolt! "Um…."

She closed her eyes. "Look," she said quietly, looking at him again. "I have to know," her eyes bore into his, "was it just sex? Did it mean anything to you at all?'

"Of course it did," he said firmly before he had chance to even formulate his response. His brain seemed to be on automatic pilot. Or maybe it was that irritating inner-voice thing answering for him. Because if it was left up to him, he'd be answering with his head…and not only the one that sat atop his neck. His heart needed to answer now, and if that meant that he let that aggravating inner-self speak for him, than so be it.

His eyes lowered and he grinned timidly. "It meant more to me than you'll ever know, Mione." He shrugged. Oh, here come the insecurity issues. "I never dreamed that you'd ever want me like this. That you'd ever look at me as more than your friend."

Is he really saying what I think he is? "Harry…."

He held up his hand to silence her. "Remember what I told you that first night?" She nodded silently. "I still feel that way, I truly do. I'm just," he paused, letting out a shaky breath, "I can't say it. Not yet. I'm just not ready."

She looked down to hide the tears filling her eyes. He really did love her. Now she knew it without a doubt. She knew of his insecurities about love and closeness and tenderness and emotions better than anyone. He had been denied all of it for so long, that when he had finally been free to let himself experience it all, it terrified him. The thought that he wasn't worthy of love and affection was always foremost in his mind when he was in relationships. That's why they never lasted. This one was no different. But, it was. This wasn't just a casual relationship. This was a relationship that could forever change his life.

That's what he was facing right now. The barriers of fear and insecurity had to be breached before he could make the commitment to her with those three little words. She felt he was close, but she was also afraid that she may have pushed him too far too fast. And if that was the case, she would never forgive herself.

Hurting Harry was something that Hermione would not tolerate. Anyone who dared hurt him would have her to answer to…including herself. She just prayed that wasn't the case with him now. She hoped that what all this had done was to let her get close enough to him that he was ready to allow her into his heart, to protect it, to nurture it. To keep it safe forever.

Seeing his look of panic, she scooted in the booth to sit beside him and put her hand on his face gently, pulling it around so he was looking at her. "Tell me what you want," she whispered. "I'll give you whatever it is you need. Space, time to think, anything you want. Just…"

"Us," Harry said quietly, interrupting her.

"What?" she asked softly, praying she'd heard him right.

"Us," he repeated. "I want us."

"Us?" she questioned once again. Her mind seemed to have stopped functioning the moment he said it the first time, and she was having trouble believing what she thought she was hearing.

"I want to give us a try," he said as he closed his eyes and laid his forehead gently against hers.

Hermione felt like her heart was going to jump right out of her chest. If that isn't an admission of his love, then I don't know what else it could be! The smile she gave him reached her eyes and tears were building up-she wasn't going to stop them. "Me, too," she whispered.

Harry smiled, relief washing over him. He never took his eyes from hers as she leaned closer to place a gentle kiss on his lips. When she pulled back, both of them had tears in their eyes. "You do realize what this means, don't you?" he asked. She shook her head. He smiled, brushing some hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. "It means you will be the girlfriend of the bloody Boy Who Lived." She smiled. "Think you can handle the pressure?"

She shrugged. "I don't know," she said quietly, gently tracing his bottom lips with a finger. "That's an awful lot of pressure to put on a girl."

Harry chuckled. "I'm quite sure the extraordinary Hermione Jane Granger can handle it." She felt herself blush at his compliment. "We'll have to make sure Rita Skeeter gets an exclusive. I know how much you love talking with her."

Hermione huffed. "Oh, please," she said, leaning against his shoulder as he put his arm around her, pulling her close. "She'd better make sure her broom is in good working order."

"Why is that?" Harry asked, his hand slowly trailing up and down her arm.

"Cause if she gets within 1,000 light years of you I'll have to hex her. And it won't be pretty."

Harry had to laugh. The very last person he wanted to see was Rita Skeeter. Although, it could be quite fun to watch Hermione hex her a time or two. A devilish twinkle entered his eye as he looked at her. "So," he said raising his eyebrows seductively, "when do I get to see that aggressive side of you again? I have to say I like that take-charge attitude of yours, Granger."

Hermione chuckled softly as her eyes dropped to gaze at his lips. "Oh, do you now?" she asked, raising her eyes and moving her lips closer to his.

His heart started beating wildly as he looked into her eyes. He smiled, further closing the distance between her lips and his. "Yeah," he said as he licked his lips. "Yeah, I do."

She grinned, her eyes still focused on his lips. Harry sighed and she looked up at his eyes. "What?"

"I'm having a thought here," he said, kissing her forehead.

"Oh? Should I move back?" she asked, laughing and scooting back from him playfully.

"No," he said, grabbing her and pulling her even closer. He looked down at her and grinned slyly. It was a grin that sent shivers up and down her spine and made that aching warmth settle between her legs. "I'm thinking that we really need to go upstairs and discuss this 'you and me thing' further."

She grinned, then reached up and kissed him quickly. She scooted around the booth, then stood up and grabbed her purse. He just sat there with a silly grin on his face, wondering what she was doing. She leaned closer to him, making sure he got a good shot of her cleavage. "I'll race you," she whispered, leaning in as if for another kiss. Instead, she caught his bottom lip gently between her teeth and gave it a tug as she pulled back slowly. Then she turned and walked swiftly out of the bar towards the elevators.

Harry chuckled and stood quickly, trying to keep himself from literally running after her. She was walking into their elevator and the doors were closing just as he skidded to a stop in front of it. He shoved his hand between the closing doors and they automatically opened again, allowing him to enter the lift.

He pushed the "door close" button and turned towards her, advancing on her as a lion approaches its prey. "Why, Mr. Potter. What do you think you're doing?" she teased as he slowly began to press her body into the wall.

"I'm testing out this 'you and me thing'," he said, bending down to place a kiss on the side of her mouth, followed by wet kisses on her throat.

"Oh," she breathed, her body shuddering with anticipation. This time, the sex they were about to share would be different. A lot different. It wouldn't have any of the doubt and "we can't do this" feeling to it. Now it was just about them. She closed her eyes as she felt his lips against her neck, nipping gently at the skin over her collarbone. "And how is that working out for you then?" Her leg came up on its own and wrapped around his hip.

Harry ran his flattened hands down her arms, then moved them to her waist, pulling himself tighter against her. "Very…well…thank you," he said between kisses.

Just as the elevator reached another floor, it slowed and stopped. The car beeped just before the doors opened. Someone was getting on. Harry pulled away from her and stood beside her. As the doors opened, Harry and Hermione saw an elderly couple standing there.

"It's going up, dear," the old lady said to her husband, pointing to the light on the outside of the elevator indicating that the car was going up, and in the wrong direction.

"So we'll go for a ride," the old man said, pulling his wife into the car behind him. Harry and Hermione shared a frustrated glance as the doors closed and the car began to move upwards again.

Harry scooted along the wall towards her and took her hand, holding it tightly, giving it a little squeeze. She smiled up at him. The old man turned around and looked at them both. He had noticed their flushed faces when he and his wife got on. He raised an eyebrow at Harry, then grinned. Harry just grinned back.

Finally, the car stopped at the 8th floor and the doors opened. "Excuse us, please," Hermione said to the elderly couple and she and Harry stepped around them. As Harry stepped out of the car, he caught the old man's eyes. He winked just as the doors closed.

Harry turned toward Hermione and he couldn't withhold the chuckle that escaped him after seeing the older man's wink.

She couldn't resist laughing with him as she looked at him as though he'd lost his mind. "What are you laughing at?" she chuckled.

Harry pointed toward the elevator. "That old man," he said shaking his head. He laughed a little louder and looked at her with a look of total amusement. "He just winked at me."

Hermione looked at the elevator in surprise. "Are you kidding me?"

"No," he said grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in the direction of her room.

"How funny," she chuckled as she stumbled after him with one last amused look at the elevator.

"He obviously knows I can't keep my hands off you," Harry said near her ear as they reached her door. "This 'you and me' thing is about to get really, really good."