She's A Rebel

dream_boat

Rating: R
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 25/04/2005
Last Updated: 25/04/2005
Status: completed

Silly little song-fic based on Green Day's "She's A Rebel."

Chapters

1. untitled

1. untitled

DISCLAIMER: JKR owns the characters in this story.

NOTE: This is just a short little song-fic. I love the song “She's A Rebel” by Green Day. The images came readily to mind but I'm afraid the words didn't come quite as eloquently. Sorry if it's poorly written. I felt the urge and made an attempt. I recommend listening to the song and seeing for yourself the images it may conjure of sweet, innocent, Prefect Hermione. If only I had the talent for smut…*SIGH*…alas, I do not.

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She's a rebel

She's a saint

She's salt of the earth

And she's dangerous…

Sitting in Potions, Harry jumped in surprise as a folded bit of parchment appeared on his desk with a soft cracking noise. Looking down, he picked it up and opened it. Inside were four startling words…

“You're looking cute today.”

He stared at the words and looked over at Ron, who was shrugging. His eyes began scanning the room, looking for the perpetrator. His eyes rested on Hermione across the room. However, she was intently focused on Snape's words. He looked around the room some more, nobody was peeking back at him. Then, when he turned to look at Hermione once more, she was staring back at him. As their eyes met, her lips turned upward into a mischievous smile before she turned away blushing.

Harry, who felt shocked and elated all at once, smiled back.

She's a rebel

Vigilante

Missing link on the brink

Of destruction…

The following day, neither had mentioned the note. But in the middle of their Charms class, he received another note:

“I'm wondering, with all of that Quidditch practice, what does Harry Potter look like under those school robes?”

Under…oh, Merlin…

Unbidden, thoughts of Hermione nibbling on his ear soared into his mind. He pushed them away half-heartedly, trying to focus on the lesson. However, Hermione was sitting in front of him and he could see the color of her cheeks reddening as his eyes rested on the back of her neck.

Funny, he couldn't remember Hermione wearing her hair up like that before…

From Chicago

To Toronto

She's the one that they

Call old whatsername

She's the symbol

Of resistance

And she's holding on my

Heart like a hand grenade…

Later, he spotted her moving down the corridor towards her next class. He rushed to catch up with her. Finally reaching her, he grasped her elbow and spun her towards him.

“Oh!”

“Hermione…” he said breathlessly.

“Oh Harry, it's just you. You scared me.”

“I'm sorry, Mione…it's just, I think we should talk.”

“Whatever about, Harry?” Her books were propped in her hip as they spoke and she wore a look of such innocence that Harry almost second-thought whether she was his complimentary (to put it loosely) pen-pal.

“This,” Harry said, holding up the folded note.

“Harry, you're being purposely vague. Please, tell me what you're on about before we're late to class.”

Okay, he thought, so she wants to play games. Fine, that's fine…I can play along then Granger.

“Er…never mind. We'd better get to class,” he mumbled. She smiled and turned to walk away. Then stopped, turned back towards him and asked matter-of-factly, “How's Quidditch been going, Harry?”

Is she dreaming-

What I'm thinking?

Is she the mother of all bombs-

Gonna detonate…?

He watched her that night in the common room, her knitting needles flashing in front of her. The S.P.E.W. campaign had been put somewhat to the side this year. However, once and a while she'd bring out the old knitting needles and work once more toward a House Elf freedom act.

For the first time he noticed other boys watching Hermione as she sat laughing and talking with Ginny in front of the fireplace. Harry decided that her homemade badges would probably sell like hot-cakes if they had her picture on them.

She was a S.P.E.W. revolution waiting to happen…

Instinctively, he stood up from the game of chess that he and Ron were playing, and walked to where she was sitting. He plopped himself down between she and Ginny, hoping to ward any prospective boyfriends off, and joined their discussion about House Elf rights.

She smiled at him, but otherwise she didn't show any outward signs of being the Scarlet Woman whom he knew was lurking behind that Prefect Badge somewhere. When she became sleepy and decided to retire for the night, she didn't leave a lingering kiss on his cheek…didn't wink…didn't flash him any knowing looks. She simply said `goodnight' and left, climbing up the stairs that led to her dorm.

Harry stood, slightly flabbergasted, watching until he could no longer see her form as she disappeared up the last of the steps.

Shaking his head, he returned to Ron and the game of chess which he had abandoned…

Is she trouble-

Like I'm trouble?

Make it a double

Twist of fate

Or a melody that

Sings the revolution

The dawning of our lives

She brings the liberation

That I just can't define

Nothing comes to mind…

That night Harry lay awake in his bed pondering all that was Hermione. He deliberated her awe-inspiring presence. His heart and his brain debated whether she really was his secret admirer or whether everything had been a huge coincidence. Either way, his heart argued, he'd begun feeling more for Hermione Granger than he should.

However, he continued to dwell. Hermione consumed his thoughts until he was on the verge of screaming in frustration. He fell asleep with dreams of Hermione darting across his subconscious…

…Standing with his trunk leaning against his legs, he watched as the train pulled into the station. It was the first time he had ever been early to meet the Hogwarts Express. Just as he was stooping to grab a hold of his belongings, he saw her.

It was the first time his mind had ever allowed him to watch her walk in slow motion. Harry had seen a few Muggle movies in his time…and suddenly Hermione Granger was a two-thumbs-up, 5 stars out of 5, box office blockbuster!

As she hurried onto the platform, Harry watched her long curls blow behind her. The short Muggle top she was wearing bounced in time with her strides, showing off Hermione's newest magical attributes. (Which shouldn't have been surprising, considering that she'd always gotten top marks in Transfiguration…and transfigure she had!) She wore a short, plaid skirt that swayed with her hips and exposed toned thighs with every step…

He woke with a start. His chest was heaving. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he grabbed his glasses, threw open the curtains to his four-poster, and headed for the stairs. He was breathing even heavier as he leapt down the final steps and sank into the quietness of the Common Room.

However, he froze in his tracks when a sight before the fireplace arrested his attention.

There, curled up with a book clutched in her dexterous fingers, was Hermione. She was wearing a pair of tiny, white cotton shorts and an old, worn tank-top.

She's a rebel

She's a saint

She's salt of the earth

And she's dangerous…

He approached her quietly and, though she surely had heard him clambering down the stairs only seconds earlier, she paid him no notice. He rounded the side of the plump couch and sat before it, gazing into the fire. She remained quiet, reading her book. It took all of his energy to focus on the dancing flames before him and not turn around to caress Hermione's exposed thighs.

He let his chin fall forward and rest on his chest. Then, he felt Hermione's hand reach into his thick mass of onyx hair. He felt her nails massage his scalp and released a sigh of content. It was only when she stopped her ministrations and rested her hand on his shoulder that he allowed himself to turn and look at her. The book was now propped against her raised knees so that one hand could stroke Harry's head and the other could pop a chocolate frog between her rosy lips.

Harry had to force a moan to remain trapped in his throat as he watched the frog disappear from her fingers. She was still absorbed in her novel as he watched a crumble of chocolate cling to the corner of her mouth. When finally she felt his eyes upon her, she looked up, “What is it?” She looked puzzled. “Do you want some chocolate?”

Harry couldn't speak; he could only nod stupidly as he continued to fixate on the escaped morsel of chocolate. When her words belatedly penetrated his mind, he knew that chocolate was exactly what he wanted.

Reacting without hesitation, he pulled himself up onto his knees and leaned forward toward her. He cupped one of her cheeks in his palm, brought her face to his, and sensually licked the chocolate from her lips.

At first, when he pulled away, her eyes remained closed. Silently…hedonistically…she licked her lips; moving her tongue lasciviously over his saliva. Then her eyes opened and Harry realized that he had never seen the true sparkle that resided within their depths until this very moment.

With a soft `Mmm' her lips curved into a seductive smile and whispered, “Finally.”

She's a rebel

Vigilante

Missing link on the brink

Of destruction

She's a rebel, she's a rebel, she's a rebel, and she's

Dangerous!

She's a rebel, she's a rebel, she's a rebel, and she's

Dangerous

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(((I never edit, so flame if you must!)))

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