I Know You Inside And Out

DISCLAIMER: JK ROWLING owns the characters in this story.

NOTE: This story is dedicated to my mom (Marmy!). I finally got her to read the HP books and she finished them all in one week. Merlin love her, she agrees with me that Hermione has feelings going on for Harry! Oh you all just don't know how great it is to have a female around the house to spout my `love theories' to. She is so addicted already! I knew there was a reason I loved her so much… She's always supported my love for writing…somehow I don't think she'd understand my fanfictions though.

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“I know you inside and out, Harry.”

“I know.”

“Then tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Whatever's bothering you,” she whispered, exasperated. They were sitting on the floor with their backs propped against Harry's bed.

“I don't know if I should.”

“Why not?”

“The look on your face…I can picture it in my head.”

“And what does it look like?”

“Pity. You'll feel sorry for me.”

“I'm not like that, Harry.”

He looked everywhere but at her face, avoiding her searching eyes. His room at Grimmauld Place was a mess. He felt the sudden urge to clean it. Standing, he began picking up dirty robes and placing them in a pile by the door. He felt a small hand grip his elbow and spin him around. Hermione pushed him against the door and looked up at him expectantly. He hadn't noticed when he had grown taller than her, it had just suddenly happened. One day that summer, he found himself looking down at her to find her eyes looking upward at him.

“If you can't tell me, then who would you tell?”

“It's not like that, Hermione. It's not like I'm telling everyone except you.”

“I didn't mean it that way…well, I did…sort of. I just meant that you need to talk to someone about it.”

“I've already involved enough of my friends in my problems, Hermione. I don't need to drag you in any deeper.”

“What do you mean `drag me in?' Harry,” her lip trembled, “you're my best friend.” They stared at each other, breathing deeply. It was strange to hear Hermione say that he was her best friend. Thinking about it now, he knew it was completely understandable. She and Ron were both his friends, but in a lot of ways…he was Hermione's only real friend. He supposed she had Ginny Weasley, but he couldn't imagine Ginny knowing Hermione like he did. It had always been easy for him to think of both Ron and Hermione as his best friends…a boy and a girl. A best friend from each category. But Hermione had him and Ron. Two boys. In a way, she was forced to choose whereas he could always have both.

He didn't know what to say to her. Thanks? He couldn't exactly say she was his best friend too, could he? In the previous year at Hogwarts he had developed a whole new range of respect for Hermione. Her brain, he magic, her strength…everything. Before, he had always taken her for granted. But as he lay alone in his bed at the Dursleys earlier in the summer, he had had plenty of time to think. And on those cold nights his mind often wandered to thoughts of Hermione.

If only he had listened to her and gone to Grimmauld Place first to check on Sirius before traipsing off to the Ministry…if only, if only, if only. His mind had reeled backward in time. Pictures flew through his memory: Snape's potion riddle in first year, the crumpled paper in Hermione's petrified hand in second year, the Time Turner during third year, Hermione staying up through the night to teach him a summoning charm in fourth year and his thoughts always ended with Hermione falling limply to the floor of the Department of Mysteries only weeks earlier.

She had always been there, with offerings of toast and walks around the lake, she had always been there. Even when Ron was not… Leaning forward, he let his head collapse onto her shoulder as he shook with silent sobs. Her arms immediately went around his back and he could feel her fingers rubbing circles through his jumper, trying to soothe him. He began regaining his composure and heard Hermione making soft Sssh-ing sounds through pursed lips. He felt her lips press against his ear, her breath was warm. Then they moved comfortingly to his jawline, and then to his cheek…before Harry knew it Hermione's lips were pressed against his. He was gripping her in his arms so tight he vaguely worried that he might be crushing her. He lifted one arm up to tangle his hand in her thick, unruly hair. She pulled away slightly and for several moments they stood with their eyes closed, breathing against one another's lips.

Eyes still closed, he traced his mouth across hers once again…not so much kissing as much as feeling. Exploring. Her lips were so full and soft…he had never realized. Opening his eyes, he kissed her again and watched her eyelids flutter. He trembled slightly when he felt her tongue shyly brush across his lips. Closing his eyes again, he opened his mouth to her. Her tongue entered hesitantly at first but soon became bold and their tongues became so tangled, their kisses so passionate, that Hermione could not contain the moans that traveled upward from her throat. He gripped her tightly, lifting her from the floor, and staggered toward his tiny bed in the corner.

He had never realized…

Harry tried as gently as possible to lay Hermione on the squeaky, squishy mattress. Outside the window, a flash of lighting streaked through the sky, casting shadows across the walls. Illuminating the semi-darkness for a few, fleeting moments. Harry rested his full weight on top of Hermione, gripped her thigh and rolled his hips against hers as a clap of thunder resounded across the London horizon. Clothes were pushed off awkwardly, shoes were kicked off hastily and lips remained fastened intimately as sheets of rain began pounding the window.

Oh Merlin, he had never realized…

Lips and tongues explored uncharted territory, emitting gasps and shudders as they went. Harry marveled at the rise and fall of Hermione's curves. Touching, learning, he caressed the arches and swells of her naked body. Her creamy skin felt so delicate under his fingertips. Their bodies moved together with a thirst that had gone unquenched for so long. Harry felt Hermione's warmth envelop his erection and knew that their souls were drinking from one another, slaking each other's craving. Their hearts, once parched, absorbed the other's desire and relished in satisfying the other's needs.

With each gasp and moan she released, Hermione drew Harry further and further back into her world…the real world, a loving world. Finally, her heat engulfed him and consumed him completely. Shuddering, her name on his quivering lips, he collapsed against her. Her arms joined her legs, encircling themselves around his back, and pulled him as tightly to her body as she could. She could feel his heart pounding against his chest and reveled in the combined melodies of their labored breathing.

She had always known.

He lifted his head from her shoulder and pushed a sweaty strand of hair back from her forehead.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing her lips softly.

“Harry…”

“Mmm,” he moaned against her neck. She could still feel him inside of her. She didn't want to move.

“I love you.”

He lifted his head again to look into her honey-brown eyes, “I love you, too.” He kissed her nose, her chin, her lips. Tears began sprouting in her eyes and he kissed those away too. Everything felt so right…so comfortable. Suddenly the prophecy didn't matter so much. Nothing did. All that mattered was that Hermione was in his arms, and he would do everything within his power to make sure she stayed there. Even if it meant…no, especially if it meant defeating the Dark Lord.

Rolling onto his side, he pulled her close to him and kissed the top of her head. She smelled faintly of vanilla and parchment…

He'd never realized it before.

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(((Love scene? Eh? Well, I was going for `making love.' How'd I do?? I know it's short…but I only had so much to tell!)))

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