Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. And that's the truth. Pbbbbttttt.
A/N: Here you all go!! This is more the second half of a thirty-one page chapter than it is a second, separate chapter. I went back and looked at some of my earlier chapters. Heh heh heh... To think, there was actually a time when I posted ten-page chapters. I borrowed a thing or two from the new movie. Couldn't resist.
A special thanks to one of my business associates, Erika, who is originally from Britain. She generously took a minute out of one of her phone calls with her family to verify that digital clocks made for the UK (versus those imported from the US) do indeed display a 24-hour clock, instead of that "PM-dot" thing.
And of course, a special thanks to my beta, MapleMountain. No matter how many times I say this, it never feels any less important.
Remember, real life... PG-13...
Chapter 17. A Happy Birthday? Indubitably.
Harry and Hermione's landing back in the Grangers' living room was no more coordinated than the one six hours earlier... but at least nothing fell on either of them this time. Being the first one standing, Harry was all too happy to help Hermione up.
Once she had done the obligatory "brushing off her clothes" thing (even though her house was always clean), Hermione immediately pulled out her wand.
"So, Harry," Hermione said excitedly, "ready to undo the Headmaster's shrinking spell?"
"Eager much?" Harry asked, trying not to laugh as he pulled the miniature suitcase out of his pocket. "We're home not ten seconds and you're ready to do magic already."
"Well... it's just that we can, now! Oh, come on Harry! Aren't you excited?" she asked, almost breathless.
"Yeah I am," he agreed. "It's just that I'd like to take this upstairs before I cancel the spell," he explained about the suitcase as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Unless of course you wanted to carry a heavy suitcase upstairs for me?" he asked, smiling as he raised his eyebrow.
Hermione smiled back. "Sure, Harry. I can do that." She then pointed her wand at his closed hand, inside of which was the suitcase. As soon as he saw her mouth begin to form an 'F' sound, he immediately dropped the suitcase (it was unbreakable, after all) and jumped back. He hadn't expected her to do it while he was still holding it.
Hermione grinned mischievously as her wand followed the suitcase down. Once it landed, she finished what she'd started.
"Finite Incantatem!" The suitcase returned to its original size. "And for my next trick..." she said dramatically as she looked back to the suitcase.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" A swish and flick later, the suitcase was floating in midair. "You wanted me to carry this up for you? I suppose I could manage that..." Keeping her wand pointed at the suitcase and following behind it, she directed it upstairs and into Harry's room. She then deposited it on his bed.
"Piece of cake, Harry. Anything else I can do for you while I'm here?" she asked perfectly innocently.
Harry was barely able to stop himself before he answered that question in a way that surely would have gotten him in trouble. "Nah... I'll just unpack." Hermione then left his room to go find Crookshanks.
Harry made quick work of unpacking his presents. After setting the box containing Dobby's gift on top of the dresser, all that remained was the box containing the chess set. If he'd been paying more attention to the world around him, and less attention to the present Hermione gave him, Harry might've noticed that his stack of school books had grown by one while he was away.
Looking back to the empty, ugly suitcase, a smile grew on Harry's face. "Evanesco." The suitcase vanished as he repocketed his wand.
"I love magic," he said aloud to himself, and then started to head for downstairs. Right as he reached the door, he suddenly remembered Fred and George's present. He still hadn't opened it. At least now he wasn't in a room full of people. Harry went and retrieved the small phial from his desk drawer where he'd put it for safe keeping.
He was about to open it when he suddenly reminded himself that it was from Fred and George. Probably safer to have a witness around, Harry wisely decided. He took the glass container and headed back downstairs.
Harry found Hermione in the kitchen, refilling Crookshanks' water dish... magically, of course.
"Tsk, tsk," Harry tutted behind her.
Hermione spun around and looked slightly guilty. "Yes, I know. I just couldn't resist."
Harry shook his head in amusement. "Best be careful there. You might get over excited with that water spell and spray Crookshanks. I hear cats aren't too fond of getting wet."
"You're telling me that you haven't cast a single spell since we got home?" Hermione asked incredulously.
"Of course I haven't," Harry lied, pathetically. Hermione's eyebrow rose in knowing disbelief. Harry quickly changed the subject. "So, what's the plan for this evening?"
"No idea," Hermione answered honestly. "Mum and Dad just said we'd do something special tonight, but you came back before we could decide what." Harry grinned inwardly. He knew it! They had been discussing his birthday at the pet store.
"What do you have there?" she suddenly asked, looking down.
"This," Harry said, holding up the phial and eyeing it suspiciously, "is Fred and George's birthday present."
"What is it?"
"No idea," Harry repeated automatically. "It's a potion of some sort, I suppose. Fred and George whispered to me that was guaranteed to work. When I unwrapped it, there was this little note on it. See?" He showed her the card.
"Do not open in..." Hermione read aloud, and then looked at the bottle suspiciously as well.
"So anyway, I figured now was as good a time as any to find out what it was." Harry then grinned at Hermione. "Plus I figured it'd be nice if there was someone around to avenge my dead and broken body should this not turn out well... or at least contact St. Mungo's if need be."
"Well, here goes nothing," Harry said bravely and then held the bottle out at arm's length. Hermione immediately took several steps back; Harry looked at her with a teasing smile that said, "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"What?" she asked, then grinned also. "How can I avenge you if I'm dead too?"
Harry turned his attention back to the bottle, and opened it carefully. Nothing happened... yet, at least. After a few moments, he was able to smell something. It was faint at first... so faint he couldn't tell what it was. He brought it a little closer and took a slightly deeper breath.
Harry laughed. "Smells like chicken."
"I think that's 'tastes like chicken,' Harry," Hermione replied with a laugh, moving closer.
"No, seriously. It smells like chicken," Harry said. "I wonder if it's a potion to turn me into a chicken. They were threatening to turn me into a chicken at the party."
"Well..." Hermione mused. She certainly wouldn't put anything past the Weasley twins. Confusion suddenly appeared on her face as she finally was able to smell it also. "I don't smell chicken, Harry. So... it's a potion that smells differently to different people..."
He hadn't exploded yet, or grown feathers, so he brought it a little closer and smelled again. This time, he smelled... it was the bookstore, from the mall. Hermione moved to stand right next to him; he could hear her smelling it also. Harry smelled a third time... something floral... he turned his head slightly and glanced at Hermione's hair, and then turned back to look at the phial in shock. What WAS this?
After her third deep breath, Hermione suddenly froze. "Harry," she whispered, "I think I know what this is." When he turned to look at her, he was surprised to see a strange expression on her face. It was almost fear, with maybe a little anger thrown in. Harry immediately held the potion back out at arm's length.
"I think this is a love potion, Harry," she said in a very quiet voice.
"What?!" Harry shouted, his head whipping back to the phial in his hand.
"If it is, then Fred and George have gone way too far this time," Hermione said angrily. "Love potions aren't things that should be trifled with. They shouldn't even exist, in my opinion. But... obviously..." she said, looking down at the bottle in defeat.
"The real question is, what kind of love potion is it?" Hermione said.
"Why does that matter?" Harry asked. "Isn't a love potion a love potion?"
"It matters," she explained patiently, "because there are different... flavors... of love potions. Which one it is will dictate how potentially problematic it is." Seeing Harry's lost look, Hermione decided to explain. But first...
"Put the stopper back in that for a minute, would you?" she asked. "Thanks. There are different types of love potions. One type is very specific. It makes the drinker fall in love with a specific person. You just add a bit of the 'target' person to it. If you were to put one of Professor McGonagall's hairs into it, and then gave it to Professor Snape, he could be on the other side of the world and he'd immediately fall in love with her as soon as he drank it."
Harry shuddered slightly at the thought. Hermione smiled slightly. "Just using unlikely examples for illustrative purposes."
Harry cringed slightly. "Yeah, well, let's not get any more creative with the examples, okay?"
"Now, the other two types are more... risky... because they are not specific," Hermione said, continuing her explanation. "One would make the drinker fall in love with the first person he or she saw. It's sometimes called the 'Love at First Sight' potion. Another type is the opposite. It makes someone irresistible to everyone else of the opposite gender. This one has a very, shall we say, colorful and well documented history. It's also been known as the Casanova Potion.
"The problem is," Hermione said after a sigh, "is that they all smell the same, since they're all derived on the same base, but with different formulations. Technically, they don't have any smell at all. When a person smells the 'vapors,' if you will, they make the person's brain think they are smelling whatever attracts them.
"For example, just suppose I fancied a... let's say a Muggle football player. When I smell this, I might, say, smell the grass of the playing field, if-that-was-something-that-reminded-me-of-him, that is," she added very quickly
Harry looked back to the phial in his hand. Why would Fred and George give me this? he wondered. Was it a joke? Or did they really expect him to use it? And which kind was it? For all he knew, if he drank it, he might suddenly fall in love with Percy (or, knowing Fred and George, it would more likely be Ron).
Harry suddenly realized that everything he smelled, he associated with Hermione... the floral and bookstore smells were easy, but the chicken? Harry had to think for a second. It was that chicken dish she made he was so fond of. Through my stomach, indeed, Harry thought to himself amused. As he began to think about it more, the amusement quickly died.
Now that he knew he fancied her, the idea of some potion causing her to artificially fall in love with him was a very disturbing thought. No matter how much he liked the idea of her returning his feelings, if it happened like that, he'd feel like he was taking advantage of her... of abusing her. THAT he would not stand for. And so quite easily, he decided what to do with the potion.
When he turned to look at Hermione, he saw she'd turned away and walked over to the refrigerator, where she was now absently playing with the dish towel.
"What are you going to do with that, Harry?" she asked quietly, not looking at him.
Harry looked back to the phial. Before he could answer her, something from the party popped back into his mind.
"Yeah, we, um, tested it ourselves," Fred piped in, glancing awkwardly at his twin. George appeared to shudder slightly at some memory, then he promptly took one step away from Fred.
Harry suddenly began to laugh; Hermione came over to him. "What is it, Harry?" she asked uncertainly.
"There are antidotes to love potions, right?" Harry asked.
"Yeah," she quickly answered, but then her eyes darkened. "Why?"
Harry could not hold back his smile. "When they gave it to me, Fred whispered to me that they'd tested it on themselves, to make sure it worked. They looked at each other, remembering something they obviously didn't want to. George then stepped away from Fred."
Hermione looked at Harry curiously as she tried to understand what he was saying. A look of surprise suddenly appeared on her face, then she began to chuckle.
"I'm doubting they'd test something like this without an antidote already on hand. But, based on their reactions, I'm willing to bet the guinea pig got in a snog or two before the tester could apply it." Harry began to laugh out loud. "I think they might've gotten to know each other a little better than twins ought to," Harry said, struggling to not grin too broadly.
Once his joviality faded, his uneasiness about the potion returned.
"And as for this... I'm dumping it down the sink," he replied with some satisfaction.
"You are?" she asked; her voice sounded very hopeful... and relieved.
"Yeah. Love is too special to pervert with some artificial concoction brewed in a laboratory or dungeon somewhere." Harry strode over to the sink, removed the stopper, and then immediately poured the potion down the drain. Feeling an enormous amount of satisfaction, he allowed himself one last whiff before turning on the tap to wash it all away. As he again smelled that comforting scent of the bookstore, he knew without a doubt why he'd done it.
"This'll be perfect though," Harry said with a satisfied expression. "I really hadn't planned on doing anything to them about that screaming cake. But now, after this..." he said, an evil grin appearing, "I'm sure I could hold their testing escapades over them... maybe even get them out of the love potion business..."
* * *
Dan and Emma returned home an hour later. Emma came in carrying a plain brown paper shopping bag. Dan had what looked like a stack of booklets with him. After setting their stuff down, the two came over to Harry.
"Happy birthday, Harry," Emma said, giving him a small hug.
"Happy birthday," Dan agreed, shaking Harry's hand. He then quickly looked over at Hermione, before looking back to Harry. "Did you open all of your presents already?"
"Yeah, it was my best birthday ever!" Harry said enthusiastically. As he thought fondly of his new chess set, he quickly looked back to Dan. "Did you tell her about those chess sets?"
Dan smiled. "So then, I trust one more present would be welcome?" he asked as he pulled a wrapped present out of the shopping bag. He held it up and waved it in front of Harry.
Harry was dumbfounded and had a hard time speaking. "You two didn't have to get me anything."
Emma took the present out of Dan's hand. "You're right, Harry. We didn't have to. We wanted to. And if the next two words out of your mouth are anything other than 'thank' and 'you,' and in that order I might add, we'll go out right now and buy you another one." Dan came over and wrapped an arm around his wife.
Never cross a female Granger, Harry jokingly reminded himself.
"Thank you," he said honestly.
"Well, go on. Open it!" Emma practically scolded him with a smile.
Harry took the present and sat down on the loveseat. He was secretly very happy when Hermione came and sat down next to him. Dan and Emma remained standing in the middle of the living room watching. Harry tore back the wrapping to find a matte black cardboard box. From the angle he was holding it, he could only see three of the six sides. Printed on them were a magnifying glass, a pipe, and a number: 221B.
221B?, Harry thought to himself. Why does that seem familiar? He turned the box around and also found a violin and a deerstalker hat. The last side he saw, which turned out to be the front of the box, had written on it what this was.
The Complete Sherlock Holmes.
Harry laughed to himself. Figures it'd be on the last side I looked.
"Hermione told us that you were interested in becoming an Auror," Dan explained. "We were pretty sure there wasn't a spell out there called 'Solve the Mystery,' so we figured a little old fashioned detective work might come in handy. It has all four novels and fifty-six short stories." Harry could see Dan reading the cover of the collection box.
Harry looked back up at Dan and Emma. "Thanks. I really like it," he said honestly and enthusiastically. He then turned to Hermione.
Harry felt a nearly irresistible urge to hug her for telling them. Scratch that. He felt an irresistible urge to hug her, period. But he knew he couldn't do that, so he just settled for plain old gratitude. "Thanks," he said.
"Oh, and while we're on the subject of birthdays," Dan said to Hermione, releasing Emma and picking up the booklets he brought in with him. "You know David down the street, right? Well, his wife Eve works at the DVLA, so I asked him to have her bring home some stuff for you. So!" Dan said excitedly, "come September 19, are you interested in getting your provisional driving license?"
Hermione looked slightly surprised, but happy. "Oh! I'd completely forgotten about that!" Her face dropped slightly. "But I'll be at school then. Oh! I'll be eligible to take my apparating test then. But I don't know when the test is. But if get my license, maybe I can apparate home to take it. Oh, but I don't know how far I can apparate," she said very quickly.
"Or," Emma interrupted, staring hard at Dan for a moment, and then smiling at Hermione, "you can wait until you come home for Christmas holiday, and take it then." Her smile faded slightly. "That is if you come home this year." Though it may have sounded otherwise, somehow Harry just knew it was a lament on Emma's part, and not an attempted guilt trip.
He noticed that Hermione seemed torn about the whole issue. She certainly seemed excited about the prospect of learning how to drive, but she seemed sad at being reminded that she had missed so much time with her family. Events in the past few years seemed to be conspiring to take her away from her family.
Harry suddenly remembered that tomorrow he would be attending the reading of the will of one of the last two direct ties to his own family. The Dursleys were family by blood, not by heart. While that might have been good enough for a magical spell, it was not good enough for him. He quickly made a decision that he knew certainly was presumptuous, and might even considered brash or rude.
"She'll be home for Christmas this year," Harry promised Dan and Emma. All three Grangers appeared surprised. Hermione looked like she was about to say something, however Harry would have none of it. He held up his hand to stop her.
"No, Hermione. No arguments. Do you remember where we're going tomorrow? You've missed far too much time with your family... usually on my account, in one way or another. I can't let you do that. Not this year. Not after these last two weeks. Anything short of a full blown war, and you're coming home for Christmas this year. And if I have to, I'll tie you down to my Firebolt and fly you here myself, Disillusioned or not."
A slight smile began to break through his determined visage. "So, make it easy on yourself, Hermione. Tell your parents you're coming home for Christmas this year."
Hermione looked at Harry through glistening eyes; her lower lip was trembling slightly. She began to smile, looking as though she found something mildly funny. She slowly turned around to her parents.
"I guess... I'm coming home for Christmas this year," she finally said. Dan and Emma immediately scooped Hermione up into a big hug, all three of them with tear-filled eyes. Harry took a step back, deciding they needed a moment alone. When Dan saw him do this, he immediately reached out with one arm and grabbed Harry quite roughly (accidentally) by the shoulder, pulling him into the hug.
* * *
Later that evening, the topic of where to go for Harry's birthday dinner finally came up. Smiling in a somewhat embarrassed manner, and taking great effort to not look at Hermione (thanks to the memory of a certain potion), Harry asked if it would be possible to have a repeat of the dinner from his first night there.
After Dan started making a less-than-subtle coughing noise that sounded amazingly like "Potatoes! Potatoes!" Emma and Hermione finally relented; he noted that it really didn't take much convincing on their parts. This time however, since it was not a surprise, Hermione encouraged Harry to help her, rather than relegating him the side dishes. Emma convinced Dan to do those.
After dinner, they all headed out of the local Kwik-E-Freez. While he had eaten ice cream plenty of times at Hogwarts and in Diagon Alley, Harry was curious to see what was so wonderful about the dessert that had been single-handedly thwarting Dudley's strict diet regimen. He quickly realized the answer when he saw the picture on the wall in the store. It was so large and so rich that Harry and Hermione ended up sharing one, as did Dan and Emma.
As they headed back home, Hermione suggested another movie night to finish off the festive evening. When asked for requests, Harry said that he didn't care, as long as it was funny. As soon as he said it, Dan pulled the car into the first car park, turned around, and headed to the local video rental center.
Returning to the car with a cassette in a plastic protective case (Harry couldn't see the title), all Dan would say was that it was his favorite comedy. Harry could see Hermione smile. When they got home, Harry went upstairs to check if Hedwig and Metis had returned yet ("Since you're up there, Harry," she said, smiling innocently and batting her eyelashes; Harry wouldn't have been able to resist even if she hadn't done that). Seeing that she was back, when he went to close Hedwig's cage door, she squawked at him, evidently not eager to be locked in.
Looks like Professor Dumbledore was right, Harry mused to himself. Now that she's somewhere where she can come and go freely, unlike at the Dursleys', she probably doesn't like being shut in. Hedwig tolerated it at the Dursleys', but only because she (and Harry) had no choice. From that point on, Harry wouldn't even bother closing her cage any more.
Now that he could legally do magic, he cast a weather-repelling charm that he'd found once (when he did a little Quidditch-related research on Hermione's Impervius charm) on his open window so he could leave it open with no concerns about it affecting the Grangers' air conditioner.
This way, Hedwig could come and go at her convenience, and not wait for Harry to open her cage or the window. Upon finding Metis back in Hermione's room, Harry decided he'd leave Metis's cage door open as well; he cast the same charm on Hermione's window.
When he reached the top of the staircase, Harry could see Hermione sitting in the loveseat, waiting for her parents to start the movie. He watched her for a moment, wondering how he could have not noticed her before. Now that he saw her, and realized what she meant to him, he knew things would be different from here on out. What exactly that entailed, he did not know.
The one thing he knew for certain was that he was unwilling to lose her friendship. He did not want things to end with her like they did with Cho. At the same time however, he knew what he felt for her was so different than what he felt for Cho. Even though he only realized his new found feelings today, he was pretty sure they had been five years plus two weeks in the making, as he himself told... himself (That didn't come out quite right, Harry thought).
Again, what EXACTLY those feelings were, he did not know, yet, but he knew it was more than just some "Oh, she's cute" fascination. And for that reason alone, he promised himself it would not take two years to ask Hermione out. But first, he had to figure out what she thought about him...
Harry laughed at himself in annoyance. Would Cho and I have EVER gotten together if it wasn't for that mistletoe? Maybe it wasn't entirely a waste after all. At least now I know what NOT to do, he thought, smirking.
As he descended the stairs, Dan and Emma walked in from the kitchen and proceeded to sit down on the sofa and got comfortable together for the movie. Before today, he would've thought nothing of this, but now... now it meant he would be forced to sit next to Hermione on the loveseat. Oh darn, he thought to himself, quite happy. One of these days I'll have to figure out some subtle way to thank her for choosing that seat.
About to sit down, Emma quickly spoke up. "Harry, be a dear and go start the movie." As he turned to look at Emma, Hermione suddenly chimed in behind him.
"Last one sitting down has to start the movie. That's the rule." Hermione was wearing a large grin and looked to be enjoying herself way too much. As he walked to the entertainment center, Harry heard Dan mimic Emma in a playfully hurt voice.
"Yes Harry, be a dear and go start the movie."
"Awww," Emma cooed, "you're not jealous are you, Dan?"
"Insanely!"
Even though his back was to her, Harry imagined he could just hear Hermione rolling her eyes at her parents. At the VCR, Harry realized that the cassette wasn't there. Looking around, he saw it still sitting on the coffee table. He'd walked right by it. Got to pay a little more attention there, Potter. The world doesn't revolve around Hermione, you know.
Yes it does, the other voice added.
Yeah... it does, the first voice accepted.
Walking back to the coffee table, Harry looked at Dan and grinned. "Nothing to fear, Dan. Nothing to fear," he said as he picked up the cassette and walked back to the VCR. "I have eyes for only one, and she, absolutely no offense intended, is not your wife."
Harry was immensely happy that his back was to everyone, for he immediately clenched his eyes shut and winced as though he'd just told Snape what he could go do with his wand.
I cannot believe I just said that! I cannot believe I just said that! Harry chanted to himself as he fumbled with the cassette, trying to put it into the VCR. Fortunately, he could feel that his face had actually lost color rather than gain it after saying that, so it was much less likely that anyone would notice his current state. The only thing he could think to think was, No, she's your daughter.
He knew he could not stand there forever staring at the VCR, so he quickly turned around and headed back to his seat. The first thing he saw was Dan smirking at him with his eyebrow raised. Emma, on the other hand, who was snuggled in front of Dan in his arms, did not share his sentiment.
He had a hard time interpreting it, but if anything she looked almost disappointed, or maybe afraid. Maybe she HAD taken it the wrong way? Harry wondered. Maybe later I can ask Hermione if... Oh, bugger! When he saw her, Harry knew that Hermione too was not amused. They did take it the wrong way! I'll just have to talk to her later about it.
Harry quickly returned to his seat and watched as the movie started. Though Dan certainly enjoyed the movie, and he did too, Harry could just feel some unknown uneasiness hovering in the air between himself, Emma, and Hermione. Much to his desperate relief, a scene partway through the movie eliminated it.
After witnessing the full effects of Ludicrous Speed on the evil Lord Dark Helmet, Harry looked over at Hermione, smiling, and said, "It's a good thing he was wearing that helmet."
When, literally half a second later, Colonel Sandurz said, "It's a good thing you were wearing that helmet," all four of them broke out in riotous laughter. After that, everyone seemed to enjoy the movie much more. Whatever "it" was, it now seemed forgotten.
* * *
Roundabout ten o'clock, everyone decided they would get ready for bed. All four of them had a potentially long day ahead of them... certainly emotionally, if not chronometrically. Tomorrow, they would be going to Gringotts for the reading of Sirius's will. If Harry had filled out his timetable like he was supposed to, Professor McGonagall would've had their class schedules ready with book lists, so they could also do their school shopping.
However, since he didn't, she wouldn't, so they couldn't. Then again, Harry said to himself, that does mean we'd all have to go out together again, at some point. By "all," he was really only thinking about two people, even though he knew there'd be four in the entourage. Merlin, I'm pathetic, he laughed to himself.
After brushing his teeth and putting on his pajamas, Harry grabbed his new Sherlock Holmes collection and climbed into bed. He propped his pillow up, leaned against the headboard, and started looking through it, trying to find a story that interested him. He still wasn't tired yet, so he figured that maybe he could kill some time and see if he liked these stories and if they'd be of any value to him in his goals of becoming an Auror.
Right as he decided upon "The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor," someone suddenly knocked on Harry's halfway-open door. He looked up to see Hermione, in her pajamas and bathrobe, standing in the doorway.
"Hey," Harry said simply, with a smile.
"Hey," Hermione replied simply, with a smile. She then walked in, casually brushing against the door, causing it to open all the way.
"Did you do something to my window?" she asked, standing in the middle of the room. "When I walked in, I noticed Metis's cage was wide open. I went to close it, but she didn't seem to like it too much. So I decided to leave it open. But then I saw that my window was wide open. I went to close it and as I put my hand up to it, I could feel something.
"There was this funny feeling there. It was kind of like a buildup of static electricity, kind of as if there was a forcefield there or something. It didn't make any sense for it to be there in the middle of an open window."
"Sorry, no forcefields, but I did cast a weather repelling charm on your window. You could actually feel that?" Harry asked a little surprised, but then he continued. "Hedwig didn't want to be locked in either. I guess Professor Dumbledore was right about them liking to be able to fly around."
A grin appeared on Hermione's face. "You guess he was right?"
"Well, he has been wrong before," Harry admitted.
"So... did you have fun today?" she asked, wanting to change the subject.
"Yeah," Harry said simply and with a slight chuckle. "One of the best days ever," he said honestly. For several reasons, he added to himself. "It ranks right up there with my eleventh birthday, when Hagrid came and took me away from the Dursleys, and also that first day on the train."
"What was so special about that day?" Hermione asked, curious.
Harry looked at her as though he could not believe his ears. "It was the day I met you and Ron." He maintained his smile, even as he prayed that she didn't ask why he said her name first even though he met Ron first. Getting a little paranoid, aren't we?
Hermione smiled fondly as she climbed onto the corner of Harry's bed and sat down facing him. "Yeah, I seem to recall coming across rather harshly back then. 'Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good, is it?'"
Harry looked at Hermione in amazement. He'd forgotten her exact words from way back then, but hearing her say it again, and with the exact same inflections as he remembered, suddenly he could hear her words from almost five years ago as clearly as though she had spoken them yesterday.
This time of course, her voice seemed much richer, fuller than back then... as did the front of her robe, as he suddenly remembered the pink bathrobe she wore first year when she came to tell him and Ron off for going to meet Draco Malfoy for a wizard's duel. Hey, hey, hey! he scolded himself. Eyes above the neck! Mind out of the gutter!
"Nah... you were just being you... pointing out when we were wrong," he said fondly, smiling. Truth be told, his very first impression of her hadn't been exactly like that, but by some amazing coincidence, his memory had become a little more selective very recently.
"Besides, you couldn't have been that bad. I'm still hanging around you after all these years, aren't I?" he asked, grinning.
"Lucky me," Hermione quickly replied with a smile.
Something began to gnaw at Harry's insides. Watching her smile at him, he began to feel guilty about what he'd said earlier about Emma. They'd seemed to have forgotten about it, but he couldn't. If there had been any misunderstanding, he wanted to clear it up. He worried that he might be overreacting a little, but he couldn't help it. Hermione's opinion of him really mattered to him.
After a few moments, he finally spoke. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I was just kind of joking with your dad about him being jealous of what your mum said. The way it came out when I said it, after seeing her reaction, and yours, I was afraid that the two of you took it the wrong way. I didn't mean to imply that there was anything wrong with your mum, or that she was unattractive, or anything like that."
Harry sat there for a second... Well, that's half of the truth...
"Oh... is that what you meant? I was afraid you meant something else..." Hermione said, allowing her voice to trail off.
Not wanting to know what she thought he might've meant, Harry continued. "I just didn't want either of you to be mad at me."
"Oh, Harry. It would have taken more than just some silly little misunderstanding for us to get mad at you. But thanks for telling me," Hermione said, smiling shyly at him.
"You're welcome. So," Harry added quickly, happy that everything was okay, but still eager to change the subject, "you never did tell me about that chess set. It looked like one of those sets from the shopping center."
"Oh yeah," Hermione remembered, a slight look of pride appearing on her face. "I asked Mum and Dad to see if there was anything that caught your eye while we went out shopping. I wanted to get you something, you know, a little more personal. I'm sure you're sick of school stuff, and I certainly didn't want to get you a book."
At her words, Harry again felt that wonderfully delicious, yet highly annoying 'tripping over an anvil' feeling in his stomach. Remembering what Ginny said about her own present, Harry thought about Hermione, If only she meant THAT...
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with a book," he replied aloud, holding up the book he'd set in his lap earlier. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him; Harry grinned sheepishly. "Okay fine. There's nothing wrong with a book when someone gives it to you as a gift. But don't expect me to start checking them out at the library now," he said smugly.
"Anyway, when Dad and I took our shopping back to the car while you and Mum got the groceries, he took me into the game store. He said you seemed interested in the chess sets. Dad said you seemed to like the mythological and military sets. But there was also another display case with six more sets in them, one that he didn't think you looked at.
"We looked at those also. There was even one with cars on it! Race cars, buses, and the like. But this one," Hermione said, suddenly looking around the room, trying to see where he set it, "this one caught my eye," she said after seeing it on the desk.
"I thought it was very handsome," Hermione explained. "I looked at the display card. It was it was quartz and obsidian. And then I saw it. The frame was made of holly. I couldn't believe it. I didn't even realize it. I mean, I've seen your wand often enough that I recognize your wood by now, and I..."
Hermione immediately turned bright red. Harry looked at her as if he couldn't believe his ears. He really hadn't thought anything of what she'd said... until she got embarrassed by it. It was a perfectly innocent thing to say, unless you started thinking about it.
But now that she'd said it, he couldn't help but think about it. Maybe it was the thoughts that suddenly entered his mind, or maybe it was just seeing her so embarrassed, but Harry quickly became embarrassed as well.
"Oh my God, Harry. I'm so sorry. That sounded absolutely awful," she said, covering her face with her hand to hide her embarrassment, and grin.
"Anyway... you were saying about my... the... about the frame of the board," Harry stuttered, trying to get them moving again.
"Anyway," Hermione agreed, "I asked the clerk about it. He said it was the last one left over from last Christmas. They had several in stock then that were made of holly. Once Christmas was over however, no one seemed to want it. Holly is a rather uncommon... it is rather uncommon. All the better for me though, since they had it reduced down to £199 from £279."
"£199?" Harry asked, shocked. "But that's like..."
"It's about forty Galleons," Hermione confirmed.
Harry's jaw dropped. While he understood the math of Muggle money (1, 5, 10, etc.) much better than Wizarding money (1, 17, 29, etc.), he knew what a Galleon was worth. He knew what a Sickle could buy. "Forty Galleons? But that must have been-"
"Exactly what I wanted to get for you, Harry," Hermione finished his sentence for him, with a note of finality. "Look. You and I both know that we can both afford to buy whatever we want to. I may not have your inheritance, but my parents do okay, and if I want to buy something special once or twice a year, they certainly don't mind.
"Besides, I thought it was the thought that counted, Harry. Not how much I spent," she said, looking very determined.
Oh no, Harry thought to himself. He knew she was setting him up. "Of course it's the thought that counts. It's just..."
"Just what?" she asked with a weighted voice, beginning to smile. Now he really knew that he had no way out. Except... there was one possibility...
"It's just that that doesn't explain how the pieces move," Harry finally said, feeling quite relieved.
She smiled as though she knew what he'd done, but continued with her explanation. "Remember that chess board from when we went after the Philosopher's Stone?"
"How could I forget?" Harry asked with a smile.
"Well, when I wrote to Professor McGonagall that first day with Metis, I asked her if she could teach me how to turn a regular chess set into a wizard's chess set. When she came over earlier this week, she said that she wasn't allowed to teach me that. Something about restrictions on spells that cause inanimate objects to come alive and attack other things.
"When I told her it was for your birthday, she seemed a little surprised. But then she reiterated that she couldn't teach me the spell, though she could perform it herself. So I dug the set out from where I'd hidden it, and then she did the enchantment, and voila!" Hermione finished with a very satisfied grin.
"Well, I said it once, and I'll say it again. Thank you. I love it. And..." he trailed off, getting lost in her eyes again. "And it's very nice," he finished.
Right as Harry was about to ask Hermione what she thought about continuing the DA next term, they heard a soft knock on Harry's door; it was Emma in her bathrobe.
"Hey you two," she said warmly. "We have an early morning tomorrow... well, early for Harry, at least," she added with a smile. "Time for bed."
"Yes, Mum," Hermione and Harry both said simultaneously, and in the same tone of a child having been scolded; Emma held back a chuckle.
Hermione turned back to Harry. "Good night, Harry. I don't think we need dress robes tomorrow. Just dress nicely."
"Okay, thanks. Good night, Hermione," Harry said. I just love saying her name, he thought to himself. It seemed a little silly, but, oh well.
"Good night," Harry then said to Emma. She wished him good night in return.
After she closed the door, Harry could hear the two of them talking quietly as they walked down the hall, though he couldn't make out their words through the door. He hoped Hermione was relaying his apology.
Harry got up, went over and turned out the light. When his finger touched the light switch, he laughed slightly as he remembered that he could now do that with a flick of his wand.
He was glad when he finally climbed into bed. It had certainly been a long day. It started with breakfast in bed. He jokingly told Hermione he loved her. At the time, he thought it was just the bacon talking. While the L-word itself was still a mystery to him, now at least he knew it was certainly more than just the bacon.
And then there was the birthday party. It started very painfully, but quickly got better. There was frosting and presents and snogging too.
Oh yeah... and then there was the little detail of realizing that he fancied his best friend.
Yes, it had been a very long day, and he was ready for it to end. Busy days like that took their toll on a person. As exhausted as his body was, his brain was still racing, trying to make sense of all that had happened.
Hermione had kissed him, and he liked it. Then he kissed her back. At the time, he of course desperately tried to find another explanation for it all, but that was about as likely as Snape dancing a jig. Now at least, he knew what that HAD been all about.
He was so tired that he felt like he should fall asleep immediately, but instead, Harry lay on his bed for what felt like hours, staring at the ceiling, hoping that if he stared at the same spot long enough, maybe his eyes would get tired. He refused to look at the clock... that would only make time pass more slowly.
Finally, just as he felt his eyelids getting heavy and he thought he was about to fall asleep, he heard something. At least... he thought he did.
Knock, knock.
He did hear it. It was a very light knocking at his door. At least it sounded like it. He reached under his night stand to grab his wand.
"Lumos," he whispered, causing a very faint wash of light to appear on the door, at which he was pointing his wand.
"Come in," he whispered as quietly as he could, just in case he was imagining things. Only someone listening at the door would have been able to hear his voice.
To his relief (since it meant he wasn't imaging things), the door opened very slowly and quietly. A smile appeared on his face as his wand light illuminated the face of his visitor; it was Hermione.
She quickly walked inside his room, closing the door behind her, and locking it.
Harry looked at his alarm clock: 23:55. "Hermione," Harry whispered, "is something the matter?" he asked, concerned.
"No, Harry, everything is perfect," she whispered back as she started to move away from the door. The small, dim spotlight of wand light began to travel down her body as she closed the distance between them. Harry suddenly found it very difficult to breathe.
Hermione was wearing some kind of nightgown or negligee; it was insidiously thin and sheer. It left nothing to the imagination... well almost nothing. A floral pattern on the fabric obscured some of the details. In the end, he really saw no more than when he kicked down the door when she was changing. But still, it left no doubt what was, or more accurately wasn't, underneath.
Though his breathing had stopped, he could feel his heart begin to race.
"What are you doing?" he asked weakly as she stopped in front of his bed.
"Giving you your last present, Harry. There's still time left," she said as she looked at the clock also.
"What is it?" he asked lamely; he didn't see her bring anything into the room with her.
She leaned down and put her head next to his. "Me," she purred into his ear.
Stunned by her answer, his hand slackened and he accidentally dropped his wand next to him on the bed. Hermione immediately climbed on to the bed, straddling Harry's chest. It took all of Harry's strength to keep his eyes on her eyes.
Thank GOD the sheets are between us, Harry thought to himself. Almost as if reading his mind, Hermione picked up his wand and waved it over him. The sheets vanished. There was now nothing separating them except his new boxers from Dobby, and her negligee, which really wasn't much of anything, as far as garments went. Hermione then tossed his wand over her shoulder. It landed somewhere on the floor. The still-lit wand beam hit the wall, causing a surreal glow to enshroud the room.
Hermione then leaned down and began to kiss Harry with fevered abandon. His higher cognitive functions having abandoned him as soon as he realized there was nothing under her negligee, Harry could do nothing but return in kind. It was a battle of wills, of tongues, a struggle to see who could literally pull the breath out of the other, of how long each could survive without coming up for air. Harry could feel his excitement and desire growing, emotionally and physically.
Harry released Hermione's mouth and gasped suddenly as she began to tickle his ear with her left hand. He could feel her smile in amusement as she began to kiss him again. Her right hand... somehow he seemed to lose track of it.
A few minutes later, Hermione finally broke contact, sitting back upright. For some reason, Harry felt compelled to look at the clock; Hermione did too: 23:58.
"Happy birthday, Harry," Hermione whispered to him. He then suddenly became VERY aware of where her right hand was. As Hermione sat on his chest, staring intensely down at him, he could feel her other hand slowing working its way in a southerly direction.
When he felt her fingers reach the waistband of his boxers, she stopped, and then smiled at him as she leaned back down again.
"I'm really sorry about what happened when we landed at Grimmauld Place," she whispered into his ear. Hermione then again locked her mouth onto his as he felt her fingers start to lift the waistband of his boxers.
Harry immediately bolted up in his bed, gasping for air. He was sweaty and his heart was racing. He looked around the room. It was dark; Hermione wasn't there.
"Lumos," Harry whispered. A soft light suddenly appeared under his night stand. His wand was still there. It was all a dream. A very intense dream, he realized as he felt a very restricting feeling in his briefs and pajama bottoms.
Just to be safe, he retrieved his wand and pointed it at the dresser. The box containing Dobby's gift was still there. He looked at the clock: 3:26.
As he began to catch his breath, he realized that he was still very uncomfortable. Well, at least now I know the numbing charm has worn off, Harry thought to himself, almost in pain. It had been several months since he'd last... fantasized. With everything that had happened in the last couple months of school, he really hadn't been in the mood.
But now that it was frustratingly obvious that that part of his brain was working again (okay, so it wasn't JUST his brain... he was sixteen, after all), he knew he had to do something. He certainly couldn't spend the rest of the summer walking around like this.
Harry thought about it for a few seconds. He could do magic. He could cast a silencing charm. He could close his eyes and (considering the intensity of his current state) a minute or two later, he'd be free of all his tension and frustration.
Harry looked around the room, looking at the door and walls, considering his options. As he was about to cast a silencing charm, he suddenly heard both voices in his mind stop himself.
No, we can't do this, one said.
It's not right, the other agreed.
Hermione's not just some faceless, meaningless, physical fantasy girl.
She's not some quick wank to get you through a lonely night.
Harry groaned quietly as another stab of frustration coursed through him, his body crying out for release from its testosterone-induced torture.
Okay, fine, his reasonable, logical side decided. Pick someone else, anyone else. This is killing us. I guarantee you, it'll only take a minute. At this rate, we might not even need to think about someone...
No, his emotional, instinctual side stood resolutely. We can't do that... not here, not in the house... in the bed... that they've generously offered.
Another wave racked him. Even his emotional side was not entirely immune to the unrelenting hormones his body was enduring.
Okay fine, maybe later... when we get out of the house... we can sneak away... find a bathroom somewhere... BUT NOT A MOMENT BEFORE! And this isn't going to be a regular occurrence! We're not going to turn into the dormmate-who-shall-not-be-named. I wonder if he realizes that there's little point in using a silencing charm if everyone hears you say the incantation, and therefore KNOWS what you're doing!
Harry looked at the clock again. It was way too early in the morning to be taking a cold shower. First thing in the morning, he promised himself.
Harry extinguished the light on his wand and then put it back under his night stand. He lay back down in his bed and rolled over onto his side. He hated sleeping on his side; his arm always fell asleep and would become numb.
But there was no way he'd be able to sleep on his stomach... not tonight. And he certainly didn't want to sleep on his back. Since it was warm out, his bed was dressed with only a set of thin sheets and a lightweight blanket. Should a plane crash in the backyard and they all ran in to retrieve him, there'd be no question as to what he was having to currently put up with.
Harry stared intently at the wall; behind it he knew Hermione was sleeping only a few feet away. Immediately, an image of her sleeping in her bed in an insidiously thin negligee came to his mind. He tried unsuccessfully to clear it from his mind. "Oh, I am in SOOO much trouble now," he whispered to himself as he tried to go back to sleep.
A/N: Holy Hormones, Batman! What just happened? Ordinarily, I wouldn't tell you exactly what I have up my sleeve, but I figured this time I would. I just wanted to assure you that this isn't a prelude to the story increasing in rating. It's just a teenage boy struggling with teenage "issues." This dream is meaningless... Well, not meaningless. What it is, is merely a vehicle for Harry to help understand what exactly he feels for Hermione, in THAT respect. After all, I'm certainly not ready for Dan and Harry to have "the talk," so he needs to figure SOME of this out on his own.
It's obvious to him that she excites him, but how does he feel about that? He realizes that he DOES NOT want to use her like that, to merely satisfy his body's physical needs. She means more to him than that... than to just be a "quick wank."
Oh yeah... Who is the unmentionable dormmate? Does it matter? :-) Actually, I haven't decided... but it isn't Ron. I figured Ron would know better, what with five older brothers and all.
Oh, and finally... (saving the best for last) Check out an AWESOME photo-manip made by Evernight based on a scene in this chapter!