Cold Feet

dream_boat

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 26/04/2005
Last Updated: 26/04/2005
Status: completed

Hermione's feet are cold. Harry gives them a good rubbing and truths are revealed. [One-Shot, character bashing, corny. The essentials.]

Chapters

1. untitled

1. untitled

DISCLAIMER: JKR owns the characters in this story.

NOTE: I'm dedicating this story to my cat, whose name is Hermione. The filthiest of Mudbloods if ever I saw one! Also, it's really cold in here…could someone turn on the heat?? I never edit, and it's short….deal with it.

Also: Minor character bashing. Sorry, Ron, you're just such an easy target.

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“Cold Feet”

Hermione was pulling on a second pair of stockings when the door flew open. She looked up to see Harry striding into the room.

“Hey Hermione! How was your summer?”

“Um, good, Harry. It was fine.”

“Good. That's good. That's great!”

“Er, Harry, not to be rude or anything…what's up with you?”

“What?”

“It's just…well you just seem, a bit…happier than I thought you'd be.”

His face fell, “Oh.” Feeling terrible, she jumped up to throw her arms around him, “I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean anything by it.” She pulled back slightly to look up at his face, “It's good to see you!” His expression brightened somewhat and he pulled her into a tight hug. Releasing her from his grip, he sat on one of the small beds and looked up at her expectantly…

“So, what are you doing up here all alone?”

“Layering,” she said, pulling on a third pair of socks. The expression on his face told her that he was curious, but trying not to laugh at the same time. She supposed he was used to her less-than-normal ways by now. “My feet are cold.”

“Your feet are cold? It doesn't seem that cold in here.”

“To you, maybe. I've been this way for as long as I can remember. I have such small hands and feet…I think they get poor circulation, they're always cold.”

“Oh. Can I do anything to help?”

“Like what?” She laughed.

“I dunno…rub your feet?” She stopped laughing and looked up at him, surprised.

“Rub my feet?”

“Yeah. You know…”

“Oh, Harry, there's no need for that. I'm fine, really.”

“Don't be silly,” he said, standing and crossing the space between the two beds. He sat beside her on the bed and, grabbing her legs, swung her feet up into his lap, causing her to flop awkwardly onto her back. “Really, it'll help me keep my mind off of other things.” Meticulously, he began peeling the several layers of stockings down her ankles, heels and then finally from the tips of her toes.

“Oh! You don't have to take my socks off, do you?”

“Don't be ridiculous! I won't be able to get your feet warmed up if I don't,” he said, sounding professional. Hermione rested back on her elbows and chewed nervously on her lower lip. This was definitely a delicate situation…perhaps she should just let him get it done and over with and not argue about it. Then, as Harry's thumbs began working their way across the soles of her feet, she started to relax a bit more. Okay, a lot more. And, surprisingly, she was certainly beginning to feel much warmer by the second.

Finally, she let her whole body relax and slumped onto some pillows behind her, one foot resting in Harry's lap while the other lay in his able hands. She closed her eyes and felt the blood flowing back into her ice-cold feet. Grimmauld Place was definitely not known for its warm atmosphere…

Just as Harry switched his attention to her second foot, Ron stormed into the room. As his eyes registered the sight on the bed they widened in panic. Harry met his eyes in genuine, pleasant surprise, “Hey, mate!”

Ron looked dumbfounded for a moment, then exploded, “Just what do you think you're doing, Harry?”

“Oh,” he said, smiling down at Hermione's feet, “Hermione's feet were cold.” Hermione winced slightly…she knew how they must look to Ron. Not good, to say the least. She shifted slightly, pulling her feet from Harry's grasp. She felt terrible all of the sudden. It wasn't Harry's fault, he didn't know…

“So now you think you can touch my girlfriend whenever you want!? Why, because you're the bloody `boy-who-lived?' You know, that act is getting really old Harry!” Hermione pushed a hand against her forehead and rubbed the growing tension between her eyes.

Harry looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face. Then, slowly, reality hit him and he understood. “Your...girlfriend?”

“That's right! Don't pretend like you didn't know!”

Harry stood abruptly, most likely to put distance between himself and Hermione, “I didn't, Ron, I swear it! I had no idea!”

Ron looked bewilderedly at him for a second, and then turned his attention towards Hermione, “So you didn't tell him then? Big surprise there!”

“Ron, it's not what you think…”

“Yeah, I know, your feet were cold!”

Harry was still staring back and forth between them both. Then his eyes rested on Hermione, they looked hurt. It was almost unbearable to meet them, the pain seemed so evident. She mustered all of her strength, straightened her shoulders and walked straight up to Ron. Her eyes narrowed and her hands went to her hips, “I didn't think there was much to tell, Ronald! We're not dating! And even if we were, Harry wasn't doing anything wrong!”

“What do you mean we're not dating?”

“I mean exactly what I said. We…are…not…dating!”

“But Hermione…”

“No, Ron. Just drop it. Whatever it might have been, it's over!”

Ron stood stone still for several minutes, his face turning a darker shade of crimson with every passing moment. “But we…”

“Nothing. It meant nothing, Ron.”

Harry could see that Ron was shaking with anger, but all he could do was absorb the words spilling from the lips of his two best friends. What, exactly, had Ron and Hermione done?

Then, Ron was yelling again and in a flash Harry saw him raise his hand to slap Hermione. Instinctively, Harry bolted between them to grasp Ron's wrist. He looked into Ron's burning eyes….his own darkening with rage at the thought of Ron's intentions. “Don't,” was all he said before releasing Ron from his grip.

With one last hateful glace at Hermione, Ron turned and left.

The moment the door had shut behind him, Hermione had flung herself onto one of the beds, bursting sobs emitting from her buried face. Impulsively, Harry rolled her onto her back and pulled her limp form against him, clutching his friend tightly to his chest.

“Sssh,” he whispered, “It's okay, Hermione.”

“No!” She cried, beating his chest with her fists.

“Hermione,” he said firmly, grabbing her hands to stop her, “tell me what's wrong.”

She became suddenly calm and inhaled deeply against his shoulder, “Merlin, it's not even that big of a deal, really.”

“Then tell me,” he urged.

“I don't even know why he's making such a big deal out of it.”

“It's okay, Mione, just talk to me…relax.”

“Oh Harry! I feel like such a prat! I didn't think he'd take it seriously!”

Harry continued to soother her, running his hand through her tangle of curls. As calmly as he could, he asked, “Take what seriously, Hermione?”

“Well,” she began, wiping the glistening tears from cheek with a sleeve, “It's silly, really. We just…well, Ron wanted to…well, he said he'd never kissed anyone before and…and that he wondered if I would help him practice!” The tears started all over again and she buried her face once more in his shoulder.

Harry, letting her words sink in, gripped her tighter as he burst into fits of hysterical laughter. Hermione's sobs stopped and she wrenched herself away from him to look dejectedly into his eyes, “What's so funny?”

Harry gripped him stomach and laughed harder, falling onto his side and sliding off of the bed onto the floor. He laughed harder when Hermione's head peeked over the edge of the bed to examine him, a disheveled look on her face. “Harry!”

Catching his breath, he sat up took her face into his hands, “You kissed?”

Her face reddened when she replied, “Yes,” in a quiet, mousy tone.

Harry chuckled softly and then brought his forehead to meet her, their eyes locking, “What a relief.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought…well, I thought the worst I guess!”

Her expression remained puzzled for a few humorous moments before realization dawned on her and she gasped in horror. “Harry! Do you really…do you think I'd really…?”

“I had no idea!” He laughed. “From the way things were looking…I just assumed!”

Hermione's countenance finally relented and a smile stretched across her face as she watched Harry chuckle. She gripped his hands, which were still cupping her face, and laughed with him. “Harry?”

“Hmm,” he murmured, forehead still resting on hers.

“So…Ron and I…we're not…I mean…there's nothing…”

“I know.”

“Are you mad?”

“No,” he exhaled, sounding exasperated, “Why would you think that?”

“I just thought…well, I guess I wasn't thinking.”

“Hermione?”

“MmmHmm…”

“I'm glad.”

“What for?”

“That you and Ron aren't together.”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, almost inaudibly as one of his hands found its way into her hair where it caressed her honey locks.

“Harry…” she sighed before his lips finally captured hers, pressing firmly. She parted her lips to him, inviting him, needing him. He conceded, moaning deeply when his tongue met hers. Her fingers snaked their way into his hair where they caused Harry's scalp to tingle in anticipation.

He gripped her by her slender shoulders and tumbled with her backward onto the bed. The kiss became more passionate and he pressed his hips against hers. When finally they parted for air, Hermione slid her tongue sensuously across his jaw line and smiled shyly up at him.

Harry grinned back and wiggled his eyebrows, “I guess practice makes perfect.”

Her eyebrows furrowed together seriously, “I never did that with Ron, Harry.”

“Do you think he's mad at us?”

“I suppose. I'm sorry Harry,” she said gazing up at him, “I should have told you. I just didn't think that Ron had taken it so seriously. I'm definitely not his girlfriend…”

“It's fine, Hermione,” he mumbled, kissing the tip of her nose, “really. I mean, it is a bit weird knowing that you've snogged Ron…but, it's not like you've been contaminated or something.”

She sighed again and lifted her head to kiss his lips gently, softly. “Do you think he really would have slapped me?”

“I don't know….I just don't know,” he nuzzled her neck with his face.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I didn't mean for it to happen like this.”

“Hermione,” he smiled, softly grinding his pelvis against hers again, “I'm just glad it happened.”

I love you, his eyes said.

She wrapped her arms firmly around his shoulders, as he rested his head against her chest, and encircled her legs around his. She was feeling content. She'd only agreed to practice with Ron for Harry's sake, to be able to kiss him like she'd always wanted. And presently, her feet were feeling warmer than they ever had.

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(((Please review, I know it's probably dreadful. I just haven't been able to find any new fics to read so I had to write instead!)))

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