Knowing There Is Only Now

Knowing There Is Only Now

by coven

Rated: PG

Summary: Hermione finds out that there is a fine line between dreams and reality when she receives her first kiss from a mystery person.

Disclaimer: This is a Harry Potter fan fiction. Standard disclaimers apply.

Chapter II: Rose

Harry found Hermione with her upper body sprawled over her desk inside Moody's classroom. He sighed and pulled a chair behind the desk beside hers.

“How was the test?” he asked.

“Thou shall not kick someone when she is down,” a muffled voice answered.

“What happened?” Harry inquired, brushing Hermione's hair away from her face so he could look at her.

Hermione responded with a groan.

“I think I flunked it.”

“Flunk?” Harry exclaimed. “You? Flunk? Hermione? Flunk?”

“Don't be overdramatic,” Hermione said as she slowly sat up and slouched. Harry winced as he saw her ashen complexion and the dullness of her eyes. At least she was not crying. He could handle Hermione in almost any of her moods, but in a crying one he could not.

“No seriously,” he said, still disbelieving his friend. “You flunked it?”

Hermione shrugged.

“It can be an exaggeration,” she said listlessly. “But… oh! Honestly Harry, my mind was too much on that pervert. I couldn't concentrate at all. It was horrible! It was the first time it ever happened to me. My mind just went blank-kaput!”

“Welcome to my world then,” he said jokingly. And with that, he stood and came up behind her. He set his hands on her shoulders and began to knead the tension away.

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, clearly enjoying Harry's ministrations. It was not everyday that a guy would get to touch you intimately, even if it was just your best friend. Well, she does not think of herself as loose, but girls even the brainy ones like her, do enjoy moments with the opposite sex. Of course, Harry was her best friend. But knowing that many other girls would be envious of her right now made her smile. Come to think of it, she should consider herself lucky. Not everyone knew the real Harry Potter. Even Ron was not privileged to know who he really was. But Hermione knew. She had witnessed each different person Harry was, and had accepted all of them. And loved them.

While Hermione was busy with her musings, Harry, on the other hand, found himself in a predicament. There was something about Hermione's exposed nape, not to mention the citrus scent of her shampoo that was utterly sexy. He cursed his hormones for ruining what should have been a perfectly innocent moment.

“Is this okay?” Harry croaked.

“Hmmm?” Hermione mumbled, apparently getting lethargic with the massage.

Harry cringed as he heard her moan. Suddenly, he stopped. He could not go on even if the touch of Hermione's skin under his fingers felt really good. Another second of it and he would not be able to walk. To cover his discomfort, he cleared his throat.

“Alright, that's it!” he announced.

“Get off your feet, good woman so I can drag you off to Hogsmeade!” he said excitedly as he took care of her things, putting books and parchment inside her bag. “You need a good dose of butterbeer.”

“Or firewhiskey,” Hermione replied, playing along with Harry although she felt something went awkward a while ago. Shrugging the feeling off, she added, “I have a much better idea. Let's get that creep. Whoever he is, I'll hunt him down and grind him to pulp.”

Harry gently tapped her forehead with a finger.

“Good intentions that need action,” he said teasingly. “So, where do we start?”

Hermione eyed him. Harry looked his normal self. She mentally shook her head. Perhaps she was just dreaming again.

“Let's get that butterbeer first then we'll talk,” she responded.

“Or firewhiskey,” Harry said.

Hermione smiled wryly.

“Right.”

***

“What do you remember exactly?” Harry remarked, as he relaxed in one of the booths in Toil and Trouble. The newly opened Hogsmeade pub was popular with the younger crowd, especially Hogwarts students during Hogsmeade weekends. As of the moment, there were some couples dancing to slow music. Otherwise, the atmosphere was conducive for quiet conversation.

“I was sleeping in the library,” Hermione said before taking a drink from her third bottle of butterbeer. “I think I was zonked out for an hour more or less. Then I felt somebody kissing me. I heard the flutter of clothing and footsteps while I was rousing from sleep. But when I was fully awake, I found out I was alone.”

Harry looked at her expectantly.

“Okay,” he said after a beat. “You aren't telling me everything.”

Hermione squirmed a bit in her seat. There was no use of lying to someone who was so attuned with you.

“I'm telling you what I remember,” she mumbled.

Harry shook his head.

“I don't think so,” he said sternly.” You're telling me what you think I should hear. Look, if we are going to catch this guy, then you should tell me everything.”

Hermione stuck her tongue at him.

“You sound like a detective on one of those police dramas on TV,” she said, a little irritated at having caught lying by omission. “Okay, fine!”

She took a deep breath and concentrated on the bead of condensation travelling down the neck of her butterbeer bottle.

“I was dreaming that someone was kissing me so I first thought it must have been a hell of a dream because it felt so real,” she finally admitted. “Harry, I may not be the most experience in the smooching department but I knew it was real. It felt… I felt violated.”

“Violated?”

“Well, it was really sweet at first,” she said with a shrug, although she was finding it a bit embarrassing to tell it to Harry. “I mean I give the guy, whoever he is, props for the technical aspect of it. But you know… it was my first kiss and all. I would have wanted it to be from someone special.”

“At least you enjoyed it,” Harry said good-humouredly.

Hermione looked at him in mild indignation.

“I should bop you in the head for that comment but I did enjoy it so that would be pointless,” she said thru gritted teeth, then with fake sweetness added, “Or I can just bop you in the head for the heck of it.”

“I have no desire to be an astrologer thank you,” Harry replied wryly.

“Of course I was just joking Harry,” she said, clasping her hands together and to Harry's amusement, fluttered her eyelashes at him. “I would not want to injure the only person who could help me with this thing.”

“Aww, I am so touched,” Harry said, placing a hand over his heart. The two of them exchanged grins at their playful exchange.

“So,” Harry said later, after ordering another round of drinks. “How do we go about this?”

“Why don't we start with a list of possible suspects?” Hermione suggested.

“Well, if I am not mistaken,” Harry said thoughtfully. “There could be twenty-eight suspects. There are twenty-nine male trainees at present. I'm excluding myself by the way.”

He stopped as the waitress brought their order. Hermione grinned herself as the waitress giggled like a schoolgirl when Harry flashed her one of his hundred-watt smiles.

“Forty suspects if that number includes the ten male trainers,” Harry continued, placing a new bottle in front of Hermione. “Unless you want me to include the females?”

“I doubt Harry,” she reacted dryly. “Make it twenty-eight suspects. I doubt if the trainers had anything to do with it. It's against ethics. Besides, I don't think they're too juvenile to do something immature like this.”

Harry laughed.

“You can't really blame the guys Hermione,” he defended his mates. “You're the only female trainee this year!”

“So what if I am?” cried Hermione. “I'm sure they are not that desperate.”

“We're nineteen, we're at our prime. Our hormones are still raging!” Harry replied grandly, before taking a gulp of his drink. “And why are you being hard on yourself? You're not hard on the eyes, and that's putting it mildly.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at that.

“Of course you would say that Harry, you're my friend.”

“But,” Harry pointed out. “I am a male friend who appreciates the attractiveness of his female friend. Now, what is wrong with that? Look, you have the most expressive brown eyes I've ever seen on anyone. And you don't get to see the boys' reaction when you wear your workout clothes. They sure do notice you. You're blushing… Oh my God, you're blushing!”

Hermione was indeed wearing bright red across her face.

“Shut up Potter!” she hissed, and threw paper napkins at her friend, which only garnered more laughter from him. “Don't you dare use your wiles on me! Exhaust it on one of your fan girls. Agh! You're making me sound like a bimbo!”

“Oh really now?” Harry said, gasping for air. Harry took Hermione's hands in his and added suggestively, “Well you're my bimbo.”

Hermione let out an `eep.'

“Get away!” she said, warding him off with her arms. “You're flirting with me! Agh!”

“Hmm, I should've known.”

The two stopped at the intrusion.

“Draco!” Hermione said a little breathlessly.

“Good evening Granger, Potter,” Draco Malfoy greeted them. Hermione flashed him a smile while Harry merely nodded. “Would it be a bother if I join your company?”

“No, sure go ahead,” Hermione said. “Save me from Harry.”

“Now that's new,” Draco said as he sat down beside Hermione, ignoring the dark look Harry was giving him.

“It was just a joke Malfoy,” Harry answered a little coolly. Draco noticed this and raised an eyebrow at the guy sitting opposite him.

“Oh, I get it,” he said, drolly. “So, what brings you two here?”

“I was just treating Hermione to some comfort drink,” Harry said. “She said she thinks she flunked the test Moody gave earlier.”

“I don't believe you,” Draco teased with mock-surprise. “I'm sure the great Hermione Granger never flunks a test.”

Hermione was merely shaking her head.

“Well she thinks she did today,” Harry replied, relaxing a bit. “So how did you think you do?”

“Granted that I was out trying to knock you off your broom last night, I think I did okay. You?

Hermione covered her ears and looked up, counting invisible cracks up the ceiling.

“Same,” Harry said.

Hermione slapped her hand on the table.

“Am I here to listen to this?” she said, looking at both men who were suppressing their grins. “Can we change the subject then? Draco, what are you doing here?”

Draco gestured to the waitress for a drink.

“I'm treating myself after having finished the exam alive.”

“Harsh!” Hermione whinged. “You both are harsh!”

“You heard the lady,” Harry said. “Let's talk about something else.”

“Thank you Harry!” Hermione said. “My sentiments indeed.”

Draco merely shrugged.

“I received a letter from Ron this morning,” Harry announced. “Apparently, he's enjoying quidditch camp.”

“I never expected Weasley King to get drafted,” Draco said, receiving his drink from the over-friendly waitress.

“Ginny said it was actually a miracle,” Hermione remarked dryly.

“Aren't you being a little mean to your ex?” Draco asked.

“I'm always mean to him,” Hermione said with a `tsk.' “Besides, it was Ginny who said it, not I. I always knew he wanted to be rich and famous. What better way than to become a quidditch player? Anyway, I'm pretty proud of him. I'm actually surprised you decided to become an Auror, Draco. No offence.”

“None taken,” he said. “I had no choice actually. After the war, I found out I was actually good at it. Too bad, my father did not like my choice of career.”

“Sorry,” Hermione said sympathetically.

“Don't be,” he said matter-of-factly. “I'm not. So Granger, what would you have me be instead?”

“A house-elf,” Harry suggested.

“I wasn't exactly asking you Potter,” Draco smirked.

“And I say,” Harry retorted back. “You are just fishing for compliments, Malfoy.”

“My gosh,” Hermione said laconically. “I feel like I am watching a ping-pong match. To answer your question Draco. Well, I see you more of as a…a… a businessman. “

“More of like a Godfather, if you ask me,” Harry added.

“Hmmm…” Hermione said thoughtfully. “Actually yeah. Something like that.”

“Godfather?” Draco asked. “Whose?”

Harry laughed.

“It's a muggle thing. You sorely lack education in that department, Malfoy.”

“Which is no vast fault of mine,” Draco said a little defensively.

Hermione decided to put her foot in.

“I can help you with that, if you like,” she offered. “It would be easy. Besides, you'll need it if we do go undercover.”

“Hmmm… is that an offer of your services, Granger?”

“Malfoy!”

It was Harry who protested.

“Sorry to have hurt your sensibilities, Potter but that was a joke.”

“Boys, please act your age,” Hermione said sternly and to Draco she said, “So do you want my help or not?”

“I'll think about it,” Draco replied and with a smile added, “As for now, how about a dance, if Potter here doesn't object?”

“Why would he?” Hermione said. “He doesn't want to dance with you.”

“Haha, Hermione…” Harry answered blandly, a little miffed at what Hermione said. He caught the knowing look in Draco's eyes. To him he asked, “Why would I mind, huh Malfoy?”

“Beats me,” Draco said, a hint of amusement apparent in his voice. “Come on Granger, how about it? “

Hermione hesitated.

”Alright,” Draco said, standing. “While you're deciding, may I excuse myself?”

Hermione waited until Draco was far away enough before talking.

“I'll probably say yes,” she said to Harry.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked concernedly.

Hermione laughed, finding Harry's reaction a bit unnecessary.

“And why the hell not?” she asked back. “This is a chance to see if I can eliminate our suspects one by one.”

“Oh yeah, the perv,” Harry muttered. “Well Draco sure fits the bill.”

“Why were you ribbing him?” Hermione asked.

“Let's just say it's out of habit,” he said.

“Harry, need I remind you that he isn't the same Draco Malfoy that we once knew.”

“I know,” Harry admitted grudgingly. “I play quidditch with him for heaven's sake.”

“So, what's the big deal about it?” Hermione said gently, patting Harry's hand. “It's just a dance. Well, here he is.”

“So how about it, Granger?” Draco said as he reached their table.

Hermione stood up.

“Sure, I'd love to.”

Harry watched with a sick feeling at the bottom of his stomach as Draco led Hermione to the dance floor.

“I bet he does,” he grumbled with a swig of butterbeer.

*You must be what you must be no other the same

Hunting streets with hormones high

Forgotten Rose, alone you cry

You want to live, want to love

-- Rose by Cynthia Alexander*

A/N: Thanks to those who have read and reviewed. I hope you liked this chapter :)