Musings on a Slow Progression by effectivelyabsent

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 28/04/2003
Last Updated: 28/04/2003
Status: Completed

Harry's been in love with Hermione love for a while now and it looks like things are finally
reaching their culmination. 7th Year. Harry POV




1. Musings on Hermione
----------------------

disclaimer . . . the characters below are not mine . . .

All right folks, this is my first attempt at a Harry Potter fic, and only my second attempt at
fanfiction period. I fully intend to continue this at some point, it will *almost* definitely
continue to be from this POV (Harry’s) and it will definitely turn into a H/HR, I’m not sure how
I’m gonna get there yet, but believe me, I will. Feel free to review at your leisure.

Thanks!

-- jamie

Well, that’s a lie, this was originally posted at fanfiction.net at the beginning of last year
(and it was true then), but I just stumbled upon portkey.org and thought I’d like to put it up here
as well.

-------------------

Among a many number of things that make life miserable, two things in particular stand in the
forefront of my mind. -

The first: Being in love with (or at the very least, completely infatuated with) your best
friend.

The second: Toast that isn’t quite warm enough to melt the butter.

While something can be done about the latter (i.e. reheating the cool bread or simply throwing
it out and starting anew), there are a very limited number of actions that can be taken when one
finds oneself in love with their best friend. In my opinion, what’s bad is the not knowing. The not
knowing if something **could** happen there, if something **should** happen there, and if
something **would** happen there were it not for said best friend’s significant other. Here, I
suppose, is where our story starts, bear with me…

I met Hermione for the first time on the train to Hogwarts, I vaguely remember thinking she was
something of a know-it-all, but looking back, I’d just chalk it up to nerves.

In fact, we were all quite nervous.

That whole year was a blur, adventures abounded and Ron, Hermione and I became a fairly
tight-knit trio. I think I had a deeper attachment to them than they had to me at the end of the
year, due to my immense lack of any sort of relationship to anyone during my time before Hogwarts,
but I think it’s fair to say we all felt a bond with each other (as bonded as you can get at
11).

Years wore on in the same fashion as that first (not to trivialize any of the obstacles we’ve
overcome, but that’s not really the point of this little monologue here) and pretty soon we’re
here- our 7th and final year at Hogwarts.

I find myself with no real direction as far as a career and no real romantic relationships of
which to speak. You see, upon our arrival back for 5th year, I came upon the realization that I had
more than friendly feelings toward Hermione.

It wasn’t much of a shock.

It wasn’t like a slap in the face, it wasn’t like I saw her get on the train after having not
been near her all summer and realized that she’d blossomed into an incredibly beautiful woman.

It wasn’t like that at all.

It was a gradual acceptance sort of a thing. I’d always known in the back of my mind that I
found her attractive, the way you know just by smelling something whether or not you’ll like the
way it tastes, I just hadn’t really paid much mind to it until then.

And then it slowly became ALL I paid mind to.

I’d notice subtle things, like when we were sitting on a couch in the common room and our
shoulders were touching or how her smile was slightly goofy when she was really enjoying herself or
how if she was really thinking hard, she had to be worrying something with her teeth, be it her lip
or the top of a quill. I’d notice the way she smelt. I’d notice if her hair looked particularly
good on any given day. I started really listening to everything she said (and learned quite a bit
in the process). I’d pay attention if she seemed to look tired and I’d do my best to help her
through what was bothering her, more often than not it was her relationship with Viktor (which
we’ll come back to momentarily). Soon, I started making sure that our shoulders were touching when
we were sitting, I tried my hardest to make her smile that goofy smile, and damn if I didn’t wish
to be a quill everyday of my life.

Things that once seemed immeasurably important, no longer seemed to be of any interest (except
quidditch of course, quidditch will ALWAYS be important).

My eyes were drawn less and less to anyone but Hermione.

I finally gave myself completely over to it and accepted in my head that she was whom I needed
to be with.

Unfortunately, she was with Krum.

Don’t tell me you didn’t see that coming, I know I did.

She ended up going up to see him in Bulgaria over that summer and apparently something happened.
I couldn’t really bring myself to ask the details, I’m not a masochist; suffice to say she was
happy with him.

I stood by, ever the dutiful friend, and let her vent about whatever ignorant thing he did that
week or gush about how adorable he was. I didn’t ever really offer much in the way of advice, I
hadn’t really had any sort of relationship from which to gain experience. Sure, there’d been
snogging with girls and the occasional date, but nothing I’d really call a “relationship.” As far
as love was concerned, I was a complete novice. Now, if you will, fast-forward to 7th year,
Hermione’s still with Krum and Ron, surprisingly enough, has definitely seen more than his fair
share of action.

And then there’s me, silently pining away for my best friend…

Ron doesn’t really spend a whole hell of a lot of time with us anymore, he’s busying himself
with other things (unlike me, he seems to have no emotional attachment to anyone and as such is
free to live out his life as a man-whore).

Not that I’m complaining.

God no, it allows me to spend time with Hermione completely alone.

See, Krum’s off doing…well, whatever it is that Krum does, she sees him maybe once a month, she
usually goes to spend the weekend with him. Those are the some of the crappiest weekends I’ve ever
had.

More and more, Hermione and I just sit together, we sit on the couch and argue and talk (and
touch shoulders…), it’s great, but I’m getting anxious. She seems to be getting more brazen with
her movements towards me, for instance, yesterday I had a pillow in my lap (it was cold and I’d
given her the blanket) and she just sort of leaned her arm on it.

Now, this isn’t much, believe me, I know, but it just felt like something she wouldn’t do to
Ron.

Does that even make any sense?

I just some times feel like there’s something between us, something she doesn’t want to let on
to, but it’s there nonetheless.

She looks at me sometimes, with an odd expression on her face, like there’s something stirring
in that brain of hers. I know she feels deeply for Krum, two years is a long time to spend with
someone you feel lukewarmly for, but I just think she might be outgrowing him. We’re nearly adults
now and I feel like she’s still in an underdeveloped relationship.

I’ve resolved, more than once, to kiss her.

It’s yet to happen.

She’s taken to wearing her hair up every now and then, which exposes her neck, and when I sit
behind her in class I can’t even remember what subject I’m learning, I just fantasize about kissing
her there. I have it all worked out in my head what the skin of her neck would taste like, it’d be
sort of citrus-y with a hint of something distinctly Hermione. Don’t ask me where I got that, I
haven’t a clue, my mind wanders to the weirdest conclusions.

Some day it’ll happen, until then, I’ll just bide my time…



2. Musings in Hogsmeade
-----------------------

Here’s chapter two. There’s not H/HR romance yet, (well, I guess there is, but it’s one-sided)
but it’s coming.

--jamie

disclaimer…not mine…

---------------

It was a Hogsmeade weekend. As usual, Ron couldn’t accompany us due to “prior engagements”
(read: he was going to be snogging his brains out with some random girl). Hermione and I made plans
to go together, she needed to find a present for Krum’s birthday and I felt the need to subject
myself to emotional pain the equivalent of being punched in the gut repeatedly. She bounded down
the stairs happily,

“Hey Harry! Ready to go? Thanks again for going with me, I really need your help picking out
something he’ll like. I’m horrible at shopping for him.”

Who could say no to her? Certainly not me and certainly not when she was looking at me as
expectantly and adorably as she was. I think at this point she could ask me to shave my eyebrows
off purely for her amusement and I wouldn’t refuse her. God, I’m pathetic. Maybe this won’t be so
bad, I have a few things I need from Hogsmeade, maybe she’ll find something while I’m picking up my
stuff and I won’t have to give any input. I manage feebly,

“Sure, let’s go.”

After arriving at Hogsmeade, we hit all my shops first- quidditch supply, the candy store, back
to quidditch supply. She finally insists we start looking for Krum’s present.

“Harry, if you were a guy,”

“If? If I were a guy?! I am most definitely a guy, thank you very much.”

This cannot be good, she doesn’t even view me as a member of the opposite sex, much less someone
she’s attracted to.

“Oh Harry, you know what I meant. Now as I was saying, what would you want for your
birthday?”

Well, for starters I’d like you as a girlfriend, oh wait…he already has that. How the hell am I
supposed to know what Krum would want? I’ve met the guy once and that was years ago. Everything she
says about him leads me to believe he’s not exactly normal. I have no idea what he could possibly
want for his birthday.

“Can’t you just get him a framed picture of the two of you?”

“C’mon, that’s been done to death, I want something he’ll really like.”

“He wouldn’t like a picture of you?”

“God! Harry, why are you being so difficult?”

Difficult? Who’s being difficult? Not me. Nope, no way would I be difficult when I’m helping the
woman I love pick out a gift for her boyfriend. That wouldn’t make any sense at all, would it?
Jesus, this day sucks.

“I don’t know, look, I’m sorry, I’ll try and help.”

“Thank you. Now where should we go? How about the joke shop?”

“Sounds fine to me.”

Upon entering the joke shop, it’s clear they’d started carrying a wider array of novelty items
than in the past. I bend down and busy myself with tying and re-tying my shoes while Hermione
shops. She tugs on my sleeve a few minutes later, indicating she wants me to get up so she can show
me something. I rise and almost keel over. She has, in her hands, what appears to be a wheel of
sexual activities. What the hell is that? I look at it closer and see that it has a dial that you
spin and it lands on some activity for you and your partner to engage in. It says stuff like
‘nibble ear,’ ‘lick neck,’ and ‘remove an article of clothing.’ Why is the joke shop carrying stuff
like this? What is the world coming to? She took my silence to mean that I wanted some sort of
explanation and she said, rather nervously,

“Well, erm, uh, it’d just be like a gag gift, not his real present, I just think it’s funny. Do
you think he’d think it was stupid?”

Yeah, if by stupid you mean incredibly awesome and something that would provide hours of
enjoyment, then yes, it is stupid. I can’t be here, I can’t be helping her do this. I feel like
someone knocked the wind out of me. The thought of her and Krum doing those things is way too much
for me to handle. Every fantasy that’s ever played out in my mind about her and I is duly
represented on the wheel. I need to leave the store.

“Uh, yeah, he’d like it. It’s great.”

I manage to sputter while unsuccessfully trying to maneuver my way out of the store. Hermione’s
right on my heels waving the wheel at me in attempt to get me to read more of the possible
choices.

“Listen to this one- Harry? Harry? Where are you going?”

“It’s hot in here, I’m gonna go sit on that bench outside, I’ll wait for you to check out.”

Good God, that was painful. I put my head in my hands and try to keep from vomiting while
waiting for her. This may be the worst decision I’ve ever made. What made me think I’d be able to
handle helping her shop for him? It was obviously something that was going to drive me insane with
jealously, yet I agreed anyway.


She walked out of the shop carrying her bag and immediately started in with the questions
again.

“Ok, now what do you think I should get him for his real gift? Any ideas?”

I don’t remember anything I said to her from then on out. I walked through the town in a dazed
stupor. It was like all the life had been sucked out of me. I think she ended up getting him a
shirt or something. Frankly, I don’t know nor do I care. One thing was clear- I was going to have
to do something about this little infatuation I had with her or I was going to lose my mind.



3. Musings about a Dance
------------------------

Hey there again, folks. When I posted this on ff.net someone reviewed and said they didn’t think
Hermione would buy a gift like that, I thought about that before writing, however, I argued with
myself that she’s supposedly been with him for two years. Being with someone for that long of a
time (in what is essentially a high school-esque setting) really changes you, the dynamic of the
relationship between those two people is not always characteristic of them. Anyway, I just felt
like that was a totally valid comment for you (the reviewer) to make and I wanted to address it.
Thanks again all! Oh, and there’s not H/Hr yet either, I really sort of want to set this up, it IS
coming though.

--jamie

disclaimer…not mine…

---------------

It was announced this morning that we’re having another Yule Ball. For whatever reason, we
haven’t had one since the one in fourth year. Great. This means I’m going to have to find a date.
Well…actually, I’ve found a date, but she obviously isn’t available. I’m sure if I even
**hinted** to Ron that I’d like his help, he’d set me up with one of his many conquests in a
second. However, I do not wish to indulge in sloppy seconds, there’s no way I’d go somewhere my
best friend has already been. And besides, I’ve seen the girls Ron’s been with, they can’t even
hold a candle to Hermione. Not that they’re not pretty, I don’t mean to imply that, it’s just that
most of them aren’t too terribly bright. They’re a few sandwiches short of a picnic, if you catch
my drift. Hermione may not be the prettiest girl in school, but she’s definitely one of the most
intellectually stimulating, and I’ve always found that to be stimulating to, um, other parts.
Frankly, I haven’t got a clue as to what to do about this whole dance thing. I suppose I could just
not go, I’m not sure that anyone would really notice, and if they did, I don’t think they’d make a
big issue of it. Everyone still pretty much knows my name, but it’s in a completely asexual way,
it’s more like a ‘damn, good thing that kid’s around,’ than a ‘damn, that kid’s good-looking,’ sort
of a thing. I think everyone expected me to turn in to this incredibly sexy, studly guy. It didn’t
happen. Not that I’m completely hideous (well, in my opinion anyway), it’s just I don’t really
appear to have the ability to build large muscles. I play quidditch all through the school year and
at home the Dursley’s are always working me fairly hard, however I just can’t seem to get any sort
of bulging muscles. I’ve resigned myself to being a lanky kid with messy hair. Hey, it’s not too
bad, some girls go for that sort of thing (not Hermione though- Krum’s bicep is the size of my
head). I’m not fishing for compliments or pity or anything here, I’m doing all right, I’ve yet to
have a girl turn me down, and I’ve actually been hit on a few times, I’m just not the heartthrob
everyone thought I’d be. Oh well. Hey, it sounds like someone’s calling my name,

“Harry!”

Yep, that’s definitely my name. Who is it and what do they want? I am NOT in a chipper, social
mood right now. No sooner does that thought form than Hermione appears in front of me.

“Hey Harry! What had you so occupied that you couldn’t hear me? I’ve been hollering at you for
the last five minutes.”

“Oh, um, sorry, I was just thinking.”

“You better watch that, you might hurt yourself.”

Hardee-har-har. She’s so flipping funny. God, I am so bitter.

“Yeah, I’ll do that. So can I help you?”

I think she picked up on my sour mood because she immediately got a concerned look on her face.
I guess she decided to let it go though, because she started talking again,

“So here’s the thing, did you hear the announcement about the Yule Ball this morning?”

Of course I heard the announcement about the Yule Ball this morning, it’s only been causing me
mental anguish all fricking day. Jeez.

“Yeah, I heard. What about it?”

“Well, Viktor’s not going to be able to make it and I was wondering if, uhh, erm, you couldn’t
find anyone else to go with, um, would you mind taking me?”

Look at how cute she looks when she’s nervous. I wonder what’s making her all agitated? Maybe I
should be listening.

“…would you mind taking me?”

Huh? What in the hell just happened here? Did she just ask me to take her to the dance? What am
I gonna do? I mean, obviously I want to go with her, I just sort of selfishly wanted to go with a
single Hermione as a date, not as a taken Hermione as a favor. Ah well, I guess a little Hermione
is better than none at all.

“Sure, Herm, of course I’ll take you.”

“Really? I mean, you didn’t have to answer now, I didn’t mean to pressure you, I just meant that
if push came to shove and you couldn’t think of anyone to ask, I really want to go and…”

She trailed off. That’s so cute.

“Really, Hermione. It’s not a problem, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather go with.
Seriously.”

“Aww, thanks Harry. You’re so sweet. I’m lucky to have a friend like you.”

Oh God. Friend. I cringe everytime I hear that godforsaken word. I do not want to do “friendly”
things with Hermione.

“Uh, yeah. Well, I’ve got class now, I really should get going.”

I take off out of the room. I can hear her calling behind me,

“Harry! Harry, wait! I’m in this class with you! Where are you going?”

I feel bad, I really do, but I don’t slow my pace at all. I just sort of need some time to think
right now, even if it is only a few seconds before class starts. I can’t believe I’m going to go to
the dance with her. What the hell have I done? There’s no way I’ll be able to keep my feelings in
check all night. Wait…maybe I won’t. Maybe this’ll be it. This’ll be the night I finally tell her
how I feel. Consequences be damned, it’s not fair that I should have to follow her around like a
love-sick puppy dog (which is exactly what I am) all the time. I’m getting my feelings out there,
putting the ball in her court, so to speak. If it makes her feel awkward, screw it, I’ve spent the
past two years feeling awkward, she can deal with it now. You know what? That settles it. I’ll let
her enjoy her evening, but as soon as that dance is over, her and I are sitting down and having a
serious talk. Now, I just have to figure out a way to keep my head from exploding before the
dance…



4. Musings on a Failing Relationship
------------------------------------

Here’s the next chapter -

--jamie

disclaimer…not mine…

---------------

Well, the good news is my head didn’t explode, the bad news is the dance isn’t here yet. I’ve
spent the past weeks vacillating between trying to avoid Hermione and trying to get as close to her
as possible. Avoidance worked for a while. I’d start the day off with it in my head that it’s for
the better if I just keep away from her until the dance. No sense in running the risk of screwing
things up. In the end though, my overwhelming desire to be surrounded by all things Hermione won
out and I’d go find her. I then decided that maybe I should slowly drop hints about my intentions
for the night of the Yule Ball, sort of acclimate her to the idea of it, this way it wouldn’t be a
complete and total surprise. I figured she’d be less likely to freak out when I told her if she
sort of knew in the back of her mind that it was coming.

That brings us to now. I’m sitting on the couch in the common room waiting for her to come
downstairs so we can head over to the dining hall for dinner. She was supposed to be down fifteen
minutes ago, but she’s probably immersed in a book, I’ll give her a few more minutes and if she’s
not here, I’ll go up and get her.

Ok, well, it’s been a few minutes, four minutes and 27 seconds to be exact (not that I’ve been
staring at my watch or anything…), I figure that’s ample time for her to have realized she was due
to meet me. I ascend the stair case to the girls’ dorms and glance around, trying to locate hers, I
haven’t been up more than a handful of times so it’s a bit of problem. I finally find what I deem
to be her door and push on it tentatively,

“Herm?”

She jumps, I think I startled her. She was hunched over her desk, but turns around at the sound
of my voice,

“Harry? What are you doing here?”

What the hell’s got her so occupied that she’s forgotten about dinner? I could never forget
dinner.

“We were supposed to go to the dining hall remember? You were due downstairs 20 minutes
ago.”

“I was? I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit distracted.”

I’ll say. She’s not even looking at me, in fact she’s looking everywhere but at me. What’s going
on?

“Are you ok, Hermione? You seem a little preoccupied. Is there anything I can do?”

“NO! I mean, no thank you, I’ll be fine. Viktor and I are just having some problems, nothing I
can’t get through.”

They’re having problems? They’re having problems?! Whoopee! God, I am a selfish bastard. Look
how upset she looks.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes…er…no. Um…here goes- I think I’ve outgrown Viktor.”

Well of course you’ve outgrown Viktor, he’s a moron. Obviously, though, I can’t tell her that,
so I just try to be supportive, despite any ulterior motives I may have.

“You’ve out grown him? How’s that?”

“It’s just, well, we’re graduating this year, we’re nearly adults and I’m still stuck in this
juvenile relationship. Viktor has no aspirations outside of quidditch. He’s been out of school for
a while now and has no plan for the future and what’s more, he has absolutely no consideration for
my feelings about any of this.”

Hey! You can’t blame a guy for being focused on quidditch, however, I see what she means. This
doesn’t look good for me though, being as that I, too, am aspiration-less. Actually, I take that
back, I have an aspiration, it’s to be with Hermione.

“I can see how that could be upsetting. Don’t worry, Herm, I sure you’ll work it out.”

Lame, I know, but it’s the best I can do right now. If I say anymore, it’ll be unfair to her as
I’ll likely tell her that she should just break up with him, which would obviously benefit me. I
can’t let my self-centered thoughts get the best of me. I don’t want to sabotage her relationship,
well, actually, I do, but that’s unfair to her, so I won’t.

“That’s the thing though, Harry, I don’t know if I want to work it out.”

Is she serious? That’s awesome! I’m such a jerk.

“Why’s that?”

“Uhhh, no particular reason, I guess, I don’t know, I just don’t.”

Whoa, she’s pretty flustered right now.

“There’s got to be a reason, Herm.”

“Yeah, I guess there is.”

“What is it?”

“It’s not important. I’ll figure this out. Thanks, Harry. You’ve been helpful. Let’s go grab
something to eat.”

It’s not important? Dammit, it certainly is! Oh well. Did she say I’ve been helpful? How does
she figure that? Whatever. It takes me a second, but I realize she’s already gone to dinner,
leaving me to trail after her. I’d follow you anywhere, Hermione. God, I am such a sop.



5. Musings on Great Things
--------------------------

Well, here it is- the last chapter. I hope it came out up to par.

--jamie

disclaimer…not mine…

---------------

She did it. She broke up with him. And I’m more terrified than I’ve been in my entire life. I
have no idea how to act around her now. I always used her relationship with Krum as sort of an
excuse to not let her know how I feel. My excuse is gone now, I have nothing stopping me and I
can’t do it. Presently, we’re sitting at a table off to the side of the dance floor. Now, I know
what I said, I said I’d tell her tonight. That was a filthy lie. I’m shaking so bad right now, I
can barely talk, let alone tell her that I’m hopelessly in love with her. We haven’t danced yet, I
can’t really dance to fast songs and judging by the way she’s made absolutely no attempt to get me
out on the dance floor, I don’t think she can either. As long as they keep playing this stuff and
no slow songs, I think I’ll be all right. Great. I spoke too soon, a slow melody drifts to my ears.
She turns and looks at me uncertainly. I suppose we can’t just sit here all night, so I stand, on
unsteady feet, and offer my hand. She accepts it and we slowly make our way to the floor. I was a
little concerned, my hands are awfully clammy right now, but hers seem to be a little damp as well,
that’s oddly comforting. We stop walking and I can see Ron off in the corner groping a blonde. At
least someone’s enjoying themselves. Hermione wraps her arm around my shoulder and raises our
joined hands into position. I slide an arm around her middle, leaving ample space between our
bodies, and we start swaying slowly. We must look terribly formal. What now? I feel really awkward,
I feel like we should be talking or something. She must be thinking along the same lines because I
hear her say,

“Nice weather we’re having lately, isn’t it?”

“Uh, yeah, unseasonably warm.”

God, I am such a moron. I have the woman I love in my arms and I’m holding her far enough away
that another person could fit between us. And on top of that we’re talking about the weather. This
is ridiculous. Like I said before, there’s nothing stopping me now. I take my hand from hers, she
gives me a quizzical look, and I slip it around her waist. She seems to understand now and she
reaches up to place her other arm around my neck. That’s better. I think this is the closest I’ve
ever been to her. She makes a contented sound and nestles in to my shoulder. This is great, this is
better than great, this is mind-blowing, earth-shattering, completely and totally astounding. We
dance in time to the music, any pretense of conversation forgotten. They appear to be making up for
the lack of slow songs earlier and play a few in a row. At one point I feel her lips skim my neck
and my knees nearly buckle. That had to be an accident. She couldn’t have done that on purpose.
Thank God for accidents. It is announced that this next song will be the last of the evening and
Hermione pulls me closer. She mumbles something unintelligible in my ear and while I’m curious as
to what she said, I can’t seem to find my voice to ask her to repeat it, so I just nod. The song
winds down and Hermione tugs me out of the hall. Apparently what she had said during the song was
that she wasn’t tired and that she wanted to sit up in the common room a while. Who am I to deny
her? We sit down on the couch facing the fire and I watch the flames flicker. I can see her
fidgeting out of the corner of my eye, she sees me looking at her though and stills. Slowly, almost
imperceptibly, I lean into her, just enough that our sides our touching. I tell myself that’s all I
need, that this is enough for now. It’s a lie, but, hey, it’s the only thing keeping me sane. She
murmurs my name,

“Harry…”

I look down to indicate she should go on, but she quiets.

“Yes?” Whoa, my voice sounds oddly husky, likely from the lack of use it’s had in the past
minutes.

“Er…um… nothing.”

I turn my focus back to the fire, it holds my attention for a few moments, but I soon turn back
to Hermione. She seems to be intently watching the flames. I wonder what she’d do if I put my arm
around her? You know what? I’m sick of wondering. I gently extricate my arm from where it’s
situated against hers and lay it tentatively across her shoulders. This could be a casual thing,
right? There are some “friends” out there that sit like this all the time, we’re fine. Yeah, right.
She stiffens at first and then relaxes into me. We sit in silence for a while, I’m about to look
down to see if she’s fallen asleep when I feel her nuzzle deeper into me. Almost reflexively, I
tighten my arm around her. This is nice. This is how it should always be. I throw what was supposed
to be a quick glance down at her, but I can’t seem to get my eyes to shift back up, I wind up
gazing at her. After what seems like an eternity, she flicks her eyes up to meet mine, I’m not sure
if she felt me looking at her or if she was just checking on me, whatever the reason, there’s no
turning back now. Our eyes lock and I’m suddenly in full panic mode. What do I do now? If this were
any girl but Hermione I’d have already gone into kiss her, but it’s not. It IS Hermione, I need
some sort of sign. She tilts her head up slightly and that’s all the encouragement I need, I bend
down and touch my lips to hers. Neither of us move for a moment, I think we’re both in shock. I
shake myself out of it and slowly begin to move my lips against hers. I kiss her top lip and then
her bottom and she starts to respond. I run my tongue along her lips- it doesn’t take much - and
she opens her mouth. I slide my tongue past her open lips and touch it to hers. Oh. My. God. She
starts rubbing her tongue against the length of mine and I’m almost too stunned to react. Almost,
though not quite. I use my free arm to pull her closer, and she responds by putting her arms around
my neck, her fingers start playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. Our tongues continue to
duel and I lean back on the couch, taking her with me. I’m growing bolder and I slip my hand under
the back of her shirt and begin to stroke my fingers along her spine. She shivers and inadvertently
grinds herself down onto me. I’ll say it again- Oh. My. God. She pulls her lips away from mine and
I think for a second that she’s going to put a stop to all this, but then I feel their wet warmth
on my neck. Holy God. She starts licking and kissing her way up and down my neck, I have no idea
how she knows this, maybe it’s instinctive, but being kissed on the neck renders me almost
completely incapable of forming coherent thought. A low, gurgling sound emanates from the back of
my throat and I hear her laugh softly. She comes back up to meet my lips and our mouths open almost
immediately. Our tongues tussle for a bit and I move my hand further up the back of her shirt, I
come upon the clasp of her bra and hover, waiting for some form of protest. None comes. I begin to
unhook the garment when the portrait door swings open. We pull apart guiltily and crane our necks
to see who it is. It’s Dean Thomas, and he appears to be drunk, he stumbles to the steps and
clumsily climbs then, I guess the punch at the Yule Ball was more potent than I had realized. He
pays absolutely no attention to Hermione and I and soon I hear the click of the door, indicating
he’s in our room. Hermione’s still lying prone on top of me and she slowly looks back to my
face,

“So, uh…”

“Wait, Hermione. Let me say a few things here before you start in…”

“No.”

What? Did she just say ‘no?’ I did not expect that.

“Huh? Why not?”

“Because I’m going first. Harry, I’ve wanted what just happened to happen for quite a while now.
That’s part of the reason I was so conflicted about Viktor. I love him, but I’m in love with you.
Does that make sense? And I stayed together with him for so long because I was of the mind that you
shouldn’t mess up a good thing, but I realized that maybe you should mess up a good thing, when
there’s a potential for a great thing with someone else. So that’s what you are to me, Harry,
that’s what this is- my chance at something great.”

Wow.

“Wow. Herm, I had no idea.”

“Oh…”

“No! It’s not like that! I’m thrilled! I couldn’t be more willing to take this chance. It’s been
you for such a long time now, Herm.”

“And I hope it continues to be me for even longer.”

“It will, trust me, it will.”

I raise my head up to meet her in another kiss and she smiles against my lips. This is gonna be
great…

---------------

…and that’s the end, folks! Thanks for reading!

-- jamie