Disclaimer: Same old, same old…(For full disclaimer, please turn to the last couple of chapters of this fic, or to any chapter of any of my other fics, ficlets, shaglets, steamlets, cookies, etc. etc…)
Author's Note: Thanks Linz! You're a freaking goddess! Muah! *snogs you*
*~*~*~*~*
It was raining. Lately, the weather had seemed to be mimicking his moods, and today, his mood was stormy at best. There seemed to be a shroud of gloom hanging over him, palpable, and nobody knew how to deal with it.
"We could go up to the Burrow with mum," said Ron eagerly, hopping that getting Harry out of Grimmauld Place would better his spirits. "We actually need to go up there and pack some stuff to bring it here. While she's preparing everything, we could sneak off and have a go on our brooms."
He didn't answer. He had barely spoken at all since he had been summoned to Grimmauld Place almost a week ago. He didn't see any reason why he should start speaking now.
"Don't be stupid," chimed in Hermione, who was sitting next to Harry, looking at him with an unreadable expression on her face. "It's raining!"
"It might not be raining at the Burrow!" replied Ron, annoyed. He was upset by the fact that Hermione had thwarted his good plan.
"Besides, I think what Harry needs is to be left alone…right, Harry?"
He didn't answer. She was right; all he wanted was to be left alone! Half of him actually wished to be back with the Durselys; at least they completely ignored him. Here, he had to deal with Molly's constant coddling, and Ron's constant efforts to distract him. At least Hermione had enough sense to leave him alone, which was completely out of character for her. She lived to badger him.
"See, I was right," Hermione said with a smile. "He wants to be left alone."
"All right then," said Ron with a roll of his eyes. "I'll tell mum only you, Ginny, and I are going with her to the Burrow."
"I'm not going anywhere," Hermione said casually. "I'm staying with Harry."
"What?! But you just said he wanted to be left alone…"
"I have every intention of leaving him alone," Hermione replied, with an air of speaking to someone who is very slow and dumb. "But I'm not about to leave him here all by himself. He might do something mad, like, I don't know, go after Voldemort himself--oh shut up Ron."
"Yes, let's continue speaking about me as if I'm not here," said Harry quietly.
"Oh, don't be upset," Hermione said softly. "It's just-well, we're worried about you, and-"
"Stop worrying about me. I'm fine. Just dandy."
He walked out of the drawing room, towards his room. Neither Ron, Ginny, or Molly let him know when they left. And frankly, he could care less that they didn't.
*~*~*~*~*
"Oi, Harry! Harry! Harry Potter! Yes you, midget with the scar. I'm talking to you! We're going to be late!"
Harry snapped out of his reverie, and turned to look at Ron, who was red in the face from trying to get his attention. Ah yes. Hogsmeade…
He groaned internally, and leaned his forehead against the window next to his bed.
It was raining.
"You have about two seconds to put your shoes on!" Ron snapped, looking eager and on edge. "You know Hermione will kill us if we're late. Can't make Vicky wait, can we…"
Ron walked to the door, muttering something about smarmy gits under his breath, completely forgetting about Harry. Harry turned back to his window and sighed dejectedly. Smarmy git indeed…
After the whole late-night-Prefect-distraction incident, Hermione decided that she hated him. Yes, hated him. Ok, so maybe not hated him, but she was mightily upset with him…refused to touch him, or go near him, in any way shape or form. She refused to talk about…it…even when they were alone. She maintained the façade quite well; no one could ever guess that underneath their very Harry and Hermione behavior, there was a silent battle of wills.
And she was winning.
Then came the argument.
It was all a result of a conversation that he had had with Ginny after a DA meeting one evening. He had noticed that she had been stacking books--loitering around--after everyone had left. She looked sort of nervous, and for a split second he was filled with the fear that the crush she had once had on him had resurfaced.
"Harry, I need to talk to you," Ginny said, once she was sure everyone was gone.
"What about?" he asked distractedly. All he really wanted to do was follow Hermione out and stare at her with the forlorn, lost look he had been practicing in front of his mirror.
"I-uh, well…" Ginny sighed, and suddenly looked angry. "I'm not stupid ok!"
Harry looked confused. "What? Who said you were stupid?"
Ginny shook her head. "No, just listen to me! I know - Harry - I see things. I observe things, and I analyze them, and…I'm not completely daft."
His heartbeat accelerated, and he suddenly felt faint. No…
"Look, all I wanted to say was. Well-Viktor Krum has asked Hermione to meet her next Hogsmeade weekend."
At that moment, he felt like someone had kicked his stomach, and all the air had been blown out of it. Viktor Krum? Why that god-awful, good for nothing, blithering fool…
Without another word he ran out of the Room of Requirement and made his way towards Gryffindor Tower. Once he got to the portrait, he found that he was so blind with fury, that he had completely forgotten the password.
"I'M A BLOODY GRYFFINDOR!" he yelled at the Fat Lady after she continuously refused to let him in. "You see me every sodding day!"
"You could easily be a Slytherin using Polyjuice," the Fat Lady replied smartly. "I'm sorry, but I cannot let you in.
He howled in rage, causing the Fat Lady to shriek in fright. He didn't think that he had ever felt so angry in his entire life. Never. If Bellatrix Lestrange was in front of him right this second, he didn't doubt he could easily perform a Cruciatus on her.
And if Viktor Krum was in front of him, he could probably do a lot worse…
"Magyar," came a voice from behind him. Ginny had just said the password, and opened the portrait hole for him.
"Thanks," he muttered weakly, before stepping into the Common Room.
There she was, sitting at a table with Ron, who looked completely downtrodden. She was making him study for Herbology, or some rubbish like that, but that didn't matter…what mattered was-
"YOU'VE GOT A DATE WITH VIKTOR KRUM?" he bellowed, once in front of her.
All activity in the common room ceased at that moment. Lavender, Seamus, and Parvati stopped their rousing game of Gobstones; Colin Creevy lowered his camera; Dean Thomas looked up from behind his Transfiguration textbook; a group of third years stopped their incessant chatter; and a couple of the first years looked fleetingly about the room, trying to decide whether it was best to stay put and look inconspicuous, or flee the room entirely.
"Don't you yell at me Harry James!" she yelled back.
"THEN ANSWER ME!" he snapped. He looked like a crazed madman. "Have you a date with darling Viktor Krum?"
Ron sat off to the side, confused as to what he should be upset about: the fact that Hermione had a date with Viktor Krum, or that Harry was upset that Hermione had a date with Viktor Krum.
"I shan't speak to you when you are in this temper!" Hermione replied, hastily picking up her school things and shoving them into her schoolbag.
Harry seized the bag and threw it into a circle of eavesdropping second years.
"How DARE you?!" Hermione cried, aghast that he would do such a thing.
"Well, you aren't leaving until you tell me whether you are going out with him or not!" Harry had a murderous look in his eye, but what was worse, was that awful insecurity that reflected out of them. He was not only jealous, but afraid, and that fear was making him reckless.
It was actually quite endearing.
Her eyes softened, and she reached out and tentatively touched his arm. With that small gesture, his anger gave out; it was not their nature to be argumentative.
Everyone in the room let out an audible gasp; in that split second, everyone figured out what Ginny had known all along. In that split second, they all knew.
Even if Harry and Hermione didn't know it themselves.
*~*~*~*~*
"They're gone," she said, breezily entering his room and plopping down on Ron's bed. "They left a few seconds ago."
He grunted in reply. He was lying on his bed, daydreaming about being left alone, and had no intention of making it seem like he wanted any company. He had already told Phineas to bugger off to Hogwarts and entertain himself there for a while; all he wanted was peace and quiet.
"Harry…you have to tell somebody what's bothering you so," she said kindly, inching her way closer to him. "If not, it will eat at you like a pack of flobberworms gone wild in your stomach."
He sat up, half of him feeling like he did want to just let it out, the other half of him not wanting to say anything that might alienate him from anybody else…he was alienated enough as it was.
"I know half of the reason why you've been so gloomy lately is because of Sirius," she babbled on, wanting to get him to talk. "But I also know that there's something else…even if Ron doesn't believe me. I know."
He sighed. If he was going to tell someone about this first, he guessed that she would be the perfect person to tell. She wouldn't overreact, or do or say anything silly. He half expected her to start formulating some plan the second the words left his mouth. She was Hermione that way.
"You know, you're right," he said, deciding that finally it was time to tell someone about the prophecy. "There is something else…"
Her reaction to the news, however, was something that he never would've imagined.
*~*~*~*~*
"Harry seems awfully quiet today," he heard Luna whisper to Ron.
They were sitting in the carriage, making their way towards Hogsmeade. He was sandwiched between Ginny and Neville, Ron and Luna were sitting across from them. Hermione had said she would meet with them later at the Three Broomsticks.
He really wanted to break something with his fist.
Ron didn't know how to answer Luna. In a great show of Gryffindor solidarity, nobody had told anyone outside the house about the great row between Harry and Hermione. It was sort of a silent agreement; the Gryffindors understood that if word of it leaked out, Harry and Hermione would suffer the same kind of media scrutiny that had plagued them all of fourth year. The Daily Prophet would go nuts with the continued love triangle of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Viktor Krum.
Still, even though the Gryffindors hadn't spoken to anyone outside their house, that didn't mean they didn't speak about it amongst themselves.
"Is something the matter, Harry?" Luna inquired.
Harry didn't answer, and the other three Gryffindors in the carriage shifted around uneasily. It wasn't like they didn't want to tell Luna about what happened; she practically was a Gryffindor anyway. It was just that…talking about it in front of Harry wasn't the best way to go about it.
"Goodie, we're here!" exclaimed Neville, quite happy to be out of the depressing carriage. Harry had this thing about him where everyone couldn't help but feel his moods. If he was happy, his smiles were contagious. If he was angry, everyone around him began to feel the heat and indignation. If he was sad…
Those eyes of his made you feel the pain along with him.
"So, where you do you want to go to first?" Ron asked his best friend with feigned lightheartedness. He was thoroughly confused; and all he had really wanted to do since the argument was sit down and question Harry about everything. But seeing him so sad, he put aside his own selfish urges, and focused on trying to better Harry's spirits.
"Actually, I think I want to be alone for a while," Harry said quietly. Ron looked crestfallen, while Ginny and Neville looked slightly relieved. Only Luna didn't seem to be paying much heed to the situation.
"That's…fine," Ron said. "How about you join us later at the Three Broomsticks? You know when…" and then Harry saw the flash of anger across Ron's face. He wanted to reach out and pat his best friend on the back. I know how you feel…
"Very well," Ginny said coolly. "Neville and I were hoping to find a very rare Herbology book at O'Leary's and Sons…"
Ron wrinkled his nose.
"I wanted to go to Zonko's and buy some anti-theft poisonous adhesive," Luna added with a sigh.
"I'll go with you," Ron said. "Better Zonko's than some ruddy bookstore…"
Convinced that his friends all had something to do, Harry ran off and made his way toward the Shrieking Shack.
*~*~*~*~*
Her lips were on his. He really didn't know how to react to this situation; never in a million years could he have ever imagined his best friend's lips on his. Never. He still had yet to figure out exactly how she had gone from sitting on the bed opposite his, calmly listening to everything he was saying, to her jumping across and attacking him like a hungry lioness.
It was all very disconcerting.
Still…not so disconcerting that some male, instinctive part of him couldn't answer back. And that part of him answered back without hesitation. So while his brain had no idea what to make of the predicament, his lips were kissing back, and his hands had snaked around her and were holding her close.
What he really wanted to know, at that moment, was what the bloody hell had gotten into her exactly. Why was she doing this? This…this was completely random! Would he get this sort of reaction from everybody? Would he go up to Ron and say, "Hey mate, listen. I either have to kill Voldemort, or he kills me. Isn't that wonderful?" and have Ron start snogging him?
Maybe he'd keep this to himself from now on.
Later, she would tell him that at that moment, the moment that he had delivered the whole, drawn-out story, she had felt so full of feeling…fear, anger, hate, determination, loyalty, protectiveness…love, that she had no other way to express them all except by…doing that.
In a way, it made perfect sense.
Who was he kidding? It made no sense whatsoever!
But that didn't stop it from being…nice. Yes. Having her in his arms was nice. It distracted him. After a few seconds of this, he completely blanked out. He forgot the reason why they had been alone in his room in the first place. He forgot about Sirius, and Bellatrix…he forgot that there was some evil manic wizard that he had to kill before he killed him and everyone else in the entire world…
He forgot about everything else in the world except for her, in his arms.
And the distraction was wonderful.
*~*~*~*~*~*
He kicked angrily at the rain-turned-snow as he paced before the gates of the Shrieking Shack. Curse her! And Curse Krum! Why was she doing this to him? He was pretty sure that if Voldemort appeared before him right now and attempted to kill him, Harry could Aveda Kedavra him out of there before batting an eyelash….
He was that furious!
And to make matters worse, while she and Krum were frolicking about Hogsmeade having a merry old time, he was sitting on a rock in front of the Shrieking Shack trying to repress memories of her from completely taking over his mind!
Unfortunately, (or perhaps fortunately) he was failing the attempt extravagantly.
Damn Dumbledore! This was all his fault! Hadn't he been faithfully taking Legilimency and Occlumency with him for the past month and a half? Why was it that he was able to free his mind of all encroachments, except for the one encroachment that he wanted to be free of most?
*~*~*~*~*
If he thought he was confused before, when she first threw herself at him, he was way beyond confused now.
He wasn't really an expert on girls and sex and such…look at the fiasco Cho turned out to be. But honestly, didn't girls expect some sort date thing first? You know, before they start unzipping your pants…
Well, Hermione was doing just that. She was unzipping his pants. And oh--wow! There went his shirt! What was she doing? Ten minutes ago they had been snogging. Now she was undressing him. Wasn't there supposed to be a couple of Hogsmeade weekends and a few tankard-fulls of Butterbeer before they got to this level? Really, Butterbeer helped with fortifying guts…
He was completely confounded. He did not know what the hell was going on. She looked kind of rushed, as if they were on some time limit. All he wanted to do was savor the experience…make it last as long as possible, one, because he was completely terrified. And two, because this was making him forget about everything and everyone else…
And then he realized that they were under a time limit because any second now a Weasley could just waltz right in and find them both on the floor entangled and half-dressed.
How would they go about explaining that to Mrs. Weasley?
But she didn't seem to be thinking about Mrs. Weasley. And quite frankly, he shouldn't really be thinking about Mrs. Weasley either. It could seriously disturb the experience of it all…and what would Mr. Weasley think?
Ok. He shouldn't be thinking about Mr. Weasley either.
But then, all thoughts of Weasleys left his head when her hand wrapped around his erection. Because by that time, he was bloody well erect. Erect wasn't even the right word. He was passed erect. Randy as hell was more like it. He had never been this randy before, which, coming from a fifteen year old boy, meant a lot.
The gasp that he emitted, and his look of abject shock, pleased her to no end. He could tell the naughty tart was fully pleased. Look at that smug look, just look at it! Aced a Transfiguration exam have you? Wanton trollop…
He'd teach her…
*~*~*~*~*
He entered the Three Broomsticks, he was sure, looking completely ridiculous. He was half in a towering rage, and half completely wet due to sleet and snow. Mental note: whilst trying to look imposing, disheveled hair and pink cheeks do nothing to help the cause.
"Oi mate! Over here!" he heard Ron cry out the second he entered the pub. He thought with a grin that after spending an entire afternoon with Luna, Ron was probably biting his tongue for some more company.
'Tis why he was completely confused when he found both of them giggling madly over something as he sat himself down at their table.
"What's so funny?" he asked, hoping it would be something he would find funny too. He detested bad moods. Despite the fact he had spent the past three months in one…
Witches.
"Oh, its nothing really," Ron said, his face red from laughing.
"Ronald just told me a joke," Luna added, wiping away some stray tears of laughter. "Go ahead Ron, tell him. It starts off with a hag, a troll, and a vampire in a pub. Oh go on Ronald, I can't do it justice…"
Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh all right. So, it starts off with a hag-you know almost all my jokes start off with a hag, but anyways…"
But he had stopped listening. For at that precise moment, she walked in, a wide smile on her face, closely followed by Viktor Krum.
*~*~*~*~*
He had no idea when it was they had gotten from his bed to the floor. He was sure that it had been some time ago, although precisely when it had happened, he couldn't recall. It was quite better this way actually; if Phineas happened to come back to his portrait, he wouldn't be able to see anything, as the bed would block them.
By this time he was completely undressed, which he found eternally unfair as she was still wearing her skirt and bra. He decided to rectify this discrepancy almost immediately; he surreptitiously traced his fingers up her spine and to her bra clasp, only to find that the dratted thing was some scientific machinery that he could never properly learn to operate.
Seeing the consternation on his face, she giggled, and brought her hand back to teach him how to undo it.
So next time you'll know how to do it yourself, she said with her eyes.
Next time. They weren't even done with this time. This first time. And already they were thinking about next time.
Pervs! The both of them!
He kissed her then. A thorough, smoldering kiss, that assured her that there would indeed be a next time. And that next time would be soon.
He brought his mouth to her neck, which made her laugh again. He grinned, and turned them over, so that he was now on top.
So the big moment had arrived…
*~*~*~*~*
"Hi," said Hermione tentatively as she approached their table.
"Hello," said Luna, completely oblivious to the tension that had suddenly descended upon them all. "You're Viktor Krum," she added, matter-of-factly.
"Yes I am," he said brusquely. Harry took a nasty pleasure in noticing that his accent, instead of bettering, had worsened. ("Oh really now! Can you speak a word of Bulgarian?" Hermione would later exclaim in his defense.)
"Ron, Harry, you remember Viktor," Hermione said with nervousness.
"Yes. Hi…Viktor. Won't you sit down?" Ron said, looking at Harry apprehensively. He could see the battle waning in his best friend's eyes-jealousy, the reluctant admiration, and complete and utter loyalty to him.
Harry was touched.
"Actually-"
"We'd love to," said Hermione hastily, interrupting Viktor's reply. Viktor looked at her reproachfully.
"I was tingkink maybe we should get some Butterbeer?" Viktor said, clearly wanting to get away from the hostile table.
"Sure…" Hermione said, getting up and accompanying Viktor to the front.
Harry cracked his knuckles. "I can't sit with them."
"Come on Harry. Be strong. You know I want to be pound the git into the ground as much as you do…"
"No, you don't," Harry said savagely. "If you did, you'd be doing it right now. I'm using Occlumency to blank my mind of violent thoughts."
Ron looked awed. Of course he had to use Occlumency…otherwise Krum would be slithering across the floor of the Three Broomsticks in the shape of some slimy, misshapen creature or other…Harry really wasn't one of those patient, think before you act types.
Before they retuned, he was determined to find another place to sit. That was when he found salvation…
Cho Chang was sitting at a table, alone.
Perfect.
Without so much as excusing himself, he got up from his table and waltzed up to Cho's. She was sitting there, completely lost in an Advanced Potions text. He had to clear his throat--twice, before she noticed he was there.
"Why, hello Harry," she said, surprised that he had approached her. Although they had patched things up in the beginning of the year, claiming no hard feelings for their turbulent pasts, they weren't really in the habit of communicating with one another.
"Hi Cho," he replied, feeling nothing of the old butterflies in his stomach. "May I have a seat?"
"Of course!" she said, beaming, closing her book loudly.
"What are you studying for?" he asked, suddenly noticing that her entire table was covered with quills, parchment, and all matter of study materials.
"N.E.W.T.S," she said with a sigh.
"N.E.W.T.S? But they aren't for another six months!"
"Well, I am in Ravenclaw you know. We have to get the best results, or else it reflects badly on us…"
After that, the conversation lagged for a while. Harry turned around to look at Ron's table. He was quite pleased to note that Hermione was staring at him and Cho. And when she realized Harry was starring back, she turned away quickly.
How very mature they were both acting…
*~*~*~*~*
It never once entered his brain to ask her if she was sure about this whole thing. He was sure she was sure. She never began anything that she wasn't completely positive she was going to fall through with, or regret later. That was just her way. And if he could be positive about one thing, he was positive about that.
So when he saw her under him, legs opened and looking very frightened, it never occurred to him to ask her whether she was sure. It would be almost like insulting her. Or at least, insulting his idea of her. And he was quite certain his idea of her was quite accurate…
After all, they had been best friends for five years.
*~*~*~*~*
"I was right, wasn't I?" Cho asked, interrupting his train of thought. She had a broad grin on her face, and he was half-thankful, half peeved, at her disruption.
"About what?"
"You're in love with her, aren't you?"
He opened and closed his mouth, not at all certain as to what to say.
"You don't have to say anything," she added, looking at him shrewdly. "Its written all over your face."
He opened his mouth again, not sure whether he wanted to confirm or deny her suppositions.
"Well, you keep looking over at her, and she keeps looking over at you, so I assume there is something going on here," she continued, taking a sip of her Butterbeer. "And I'm quite sure she just gave me an evil glare…oh look! Another one. Yes, I do believe I'll wake up hexed tomorrow…"
He turned around again, not being at all sly about starring. If the starring could be any more blatant, he'd have to sit next to her and press his forehead to her cheek and stare at her from that angle.
Suddenly, an idea struck him. If Occlumency couldn't help him, then perhaps Legilimency could…
*~*~*~*~*
He was no authority on sex, but he was well enough informed to know that this was probably hurting her. As much as he was enjoying it, he was hurting her, and that thought plagued him, even as she urged him on to continue.
He brushed the hair from her forehead with his hand, and kissed her gently. He kissed her down to her neck, and back up, to her lips. He squeezed her right hand reassuringly, and moved his lips to press her cheek.
Next time, it would be better. He would make it better.
*~*~*~*~*
He turned to look at her, and saw that she was blinking her eyes rapidly, as if she had just awoken from a vivid dream. She turned to look at him, eyes wide, shocked, and awed…
That was when he decided he was a coward. Yes, a coward. It had taken him a few seconds after Cho had mentioned it to decide. And he decided to be a coward. Because he was going to do it now, far away from her, and not out loud, because he was afraid that if he walked up to her right now and told her in front of everybody she would reject him, and that would be unbearable.
But waiting would be unbearable too.
So he did it then. He mouthed the words to her.
I love you.
Without waiting a second, not even long enough to gauge her reaction, he got up, and walked out of the Three Broomsticks.
*~*~*~*~*