Finding the Right Place…
Disclaimer: None of these phenomenal characters belong to me. They are the wonderful brain children of the amazing JK Rowling.
Rating: R/NC-17 (some chapters)
Pairing: H/Hr (eventually)
Summary: Sometimes love finds us in the all the wrong places. We just have to wait until it finds the right one.
Author's Note: Please forgive any errors you may encounter. This story is unbeta-ed and started out as a freewrite exercise. I'll try and post the next chapter by tomorrow evening. (New York City time)
PROLOGUE
They were sitting in the head girl's bedroom as she bustled around her room picking up various knickknacks and looking at each article with disdain as she pondered just when she had managed to accumulate so many things.
"Haven't you ever wondered?" he asked softly, his voice barely higher than that of a whisper, as he picked at a loose thread on his shirt.
"Of course I have, Harry," she said, giving a dismissive wave of her hand, while rearranging some articles in her trunk, "It's perfectly natural when people of the opposite sex have been friends as long as we have."
"Why didn't you ever pursue it?" he asked suddenly.
She turned from her packing fully prepared to give him a grin and playful response but stopped when she saw the serious look upon his face. A wave of unease washed over her and she realized he had never quite looked at her that way before.
"Well," she replied slowly, taking her time and choosing her words carefully, "I suppose for the same reasons you never did, Harry."
"What if I wanted to?" he asked, effectively cutting off the rest of her explanation. He stood up then and slowly raised his hand so he could gently caress her cheek with his thumb.
She found herself leaning into his touch against her own volition. "Harry," she said, looking up into his eyes she realized for just how much he towered over her in height and for the very first time felt small beside him, "I…"
He placed his index finger over her lips and spoke in the gentlest tone she had ever heard him use. "I care for you a great deal, Hermione, and you're constantly on my mind. Your pretty smile. The bossy tone you use when you're annoyed and not getting your way. The tiny little scar you have just under your chin that you got during one of Hagrid's more bracing lessons. I couldn't have us go on our way tomorrow without knowing how you feel."
He leaned forward then and placed a sweet kiss upon her lips despite the look of alarm in her eyes. His hands lightly framed her face and her eyes were open wide in surprise as he moved his lips over hers ever so slightly. It took her a moment to overcome the shock and finally respond. She finally did, carefully and tenderly removing his hands from her face and stepping back from him.
She tried to ignore the hurt look upon his face and spoke past the lump that was quickly forming in her throat. "Harry, I do love you," she whispered, tears beginning to pool in her luminous eyes, "But not in the way you want me to. I would never want to risk our friendship, which I do treasure above all else, on something that may not work out in the end."
His eyes were downcast and he refused to meet her gaze. She tried to take his hand but he pulled away from her. "I'm so sorry, Harry. Please tell me this won't change things between us…" He finally met her eyes and there was an unmistakable shine to them.
He gave her a half-hearted smile before he spoke, "Never that. You've been the one constant in my life, Hermione. It just wouldn't do to not have you as my best friend anymore."
She moved to hug him but hesitated leaving her standing there awkwardly with her arms half extended. He sighed and pulled her into a tight embrace mercifully ending her self-conscious moment. "Tomorrow can we pretend this whole thing never happened?" he asked.
"Okay, Harry," she replied giving him a worried half-hearted smile, "Consider it forgotten."
He cleared his throat and in a decisively male moment moved to quickly wipe his eyes before extricating himself from the vice-like grip she had upon his waist. "I'll just be going. You know, lots of last minute packing to do before the morning. The party tonight really set me back," he stammered, completely disregarding the fact she had helped him meticulously pack all of his belongings just an hour before. "See you in the morning, Hermione."
He hadn't even waited from her reply. She watched his hastily retreating footsteps and felt that something in their friendship had inexplicably shifted. For the very first time in seven years of friendship she came to the realization that she had absolutely no idea what Harry was thinking or feeling at the present, and that frightened her.
She sat on the edge of her bed absentmindedly pushing Crookshanks to the floor. She was folding and unfolding the same sweater. It was actually one of the many sweaters she had commandeered from Harry over the years. She held it up to her face and inhaled deeply. Traces of his scent still lingered, a mixture she had decided was a combination of chocolate frogs, sunshine, and the aftershave she had gotten him a few months ago. She had accidentally walked in on him while he was shaving at the Burrow over the Christmas holiday. She had found it immensely entertaining and amusing, partially amazed that she had not realized he had been shaving for quite some time.
She thought about how he acted around her and was angry with herself for not noticing sooner. She should have realized long ago, her of all people… He carried her books from class to class often enough that Ron would tease him by saying the Dark Lord wouldn't stand a chance against "Harry Potter, The Bookworm's Bodybuilder". It was a joke neither Harry nor Hermione found very funny but would cause Ron to laugh to the point of tears every time he said it, which was quite often indeed.
Harry sat in the library with her for hours on end with minimal complaint. Waking early he always had a plate of her favorite breakfast foods ready for her in the morning, despite being the world's worst morning person. The more she thought on it the more endless her list of sweet things she realized Harry did for her everyday. Ron never did any of these things but she had simply rationalized that it was because he was, well, Ron.
She traced her lips with her fingertips as she thought of Harry's kiss. His lips had been so warm and impossibly soft; his touch so endearingly shy and tender. It was almost enough to make her want to find him and tell him she hadn't meant a word of what she just told him. Almost.
I made the right decision, she thought trying to reassure herself, we both leave tomorrow and who knows when we'll see one another again. Besides, if he hadn't kissed me I would never have wondered if I felt something deeper towards him than friendship.
That's not true, her mind replied, you just weren't enough of a Gryffindor to find out. With a sigh she stood and placed her last sweater in her trunk. She picked up the only remaining article on her desk and took a long look at the framed photo. This particular picture never failed to bring a smile to her face. In it, the seventh year trio stood outside Hagrid's hut on a snowy afternoon; Ron was heaving snowballs while she was using Harry as a human shield. She remembered he teasing begged her to be released from her diabolical clutches. She placed the photo in her trunk and muttered a locking charm, thus ending her seven year Hogwarts adventure.
In another part of the castle…
Bloody idiot! His mind shouted at him as he walked toward the common room, how could you do that right before you're both leaving? You leave for Auror training tomorrow and you won't be seeing her for at least six months; and that's only if she gets a holiday from her own Healer training. You should have known she wouldn't want things to change.
He was hardly paying any heed to where he was walking which was very apparent by the rather loud, "OW! Mate! Watch where you're going!"
He had barreled full speed into a very annoyed Weasley, successfully knocking all of his belongings from his trunk. "Geez, Harry! The train doesn't leave until tomorrow! Where's the fire?" he asked, not having noticed Harry's pitiful expression as he began to pick up his things.
"I'm sorry, Ron," he said, "I wasn't paying attention."
"You don't say?" he replied sarcastically, finally looking up and really seeing his friend. "Bloody hell, Harry. You look downright pitiful. What's the matter, mate? You're usually floating on air after visiting Hermione, loverboy."
At the mention of her name Harry looked even more disheartened. "You finally told her?" he asked his friend, feeling both proud of him and sad for him at the same time.
Harry merely nodded and sighed.
"Well, mate, why don't we break out the Firewhiskey and celebrate. It's a two for one deal: we've finally graduated Hogwarts and you've managed to evade that pesky Dark Lord for the second consecutive year."
"Okay, Ron," he said letting himself be led toward Gryffindor Tower.
And thus is how Harry and Ron ended their seven year Hogwarts adventure…