Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic and Warner Bros. I'm just playing with her world. The poem at the end is by Sandy Rolstan and isn't mine either.
A/N: Enjoy and please review!
All Because You Kissed Me Good Night
He was too close to her.
She couldn't concentrate on the page in front of her. She was too conscious of him sitting next to her, his elbow occasionally bumping into hers as he wrote. She could smell him, the unique smell that was Harry, a mixture of soap, sweat, the fresh air, and the indefinable scent that was uniquely his. If she looked just a little to her left, she could see him, frowning slightly in concentration as he grasped his quill, writing in his slightly slanted scrawl, as familiar to her as the emerald-green eyes behind his round glasses, or the way his hair stuck up in all directions.
She couldn't seem to stop watching him. He was the same Harry that she had known for 6 years now, her best friend. But somehow in the past few months, he'd also become the single biggest distraction she had.
She closed her eyes in frustration, letting out a sigh. What was it with her lately? Why couldn't she seem to think about anything but Harry? Why was she always wanting to look at him when he was around, be with him when he wasn't around? Since when did Harry's slightly lopsided grin make her insides go fluttery and her knees go weak?
Actually, she knew what her problem was. Its name was Harry James Potter, 16 years old, her best friend and the guy she just happened to be in love with. Not to mention that he was cute, charming, funny, sweet, smart, and had what must be the brightest pair of green eyes ever to grace a human face.
"Hermione, what's wrong? You tired?"
His voice broke the silence in the library and interrupted her musings about him.
She opened her eyes to find him studying her with concern on his face.
She forced a smile. "No, no, just resting my eyes for a bit. Actually, I think I'm going to get some air. I'll be back soon."
He made a motion as if he was going to get up too, but she stopped him. "No, you and Ron stay here, keep my spot. I'm just going to step outside for a few minutes, okay?"
She forced another grin at both Harry and Ron who were looking at her oddly before hurrying out of the library.
She hurriedly grabbed her cloak from her room before rushing out of the front doors, heading towards her favorite spot by the lake.
It was a cool, clear night. The moon was nearly full; she glanced up at it, suddenly reminded of Professor Lupin. She knew he was involved with the Order of the Phoenix, working closely with Headmaster Dumbledore, Sirius and Mr. Weasley and others to gather support against Voldemort. She shivered at the name, a harsh reminder that Harry was still in danger.
Harry. To the rest of the Wizarding world, the Boy Who Lived and a hero. To her, just Harry, her friend and one of the most important people in her world.
She thought of Voldemort and his repeated attempts to kill Harry, knew that it wasn't over yet, that Harry was inwardly expecting something terrible to happen. And she looked up at the moon, shining so brightly, and silently renewed a promise she had made to herself and to Harry years ago. She would do whatever she could, whatever she had to do, to help Harry and keep him safe.
In the library still, Harry frowned at Hermione's retreating back before returning his attention to his Potions textbook. They had a 3 foot long essay due in Potions the next day and he had yet to finish his second roll of parchment. He could just hear Snape's scathing voice if he failed to complete and turn in the assignment, and inwardly groaned. Snape's loathing for him hadn't lessened in any way. If anything, it seemed to have gotten worse.
He frowned as he stared at his Potions textbook again, even as the words seemed to blur in front of his eyes. He hated Potions. He was still amazed that Snape hadn't yet failed him, although he suspected that it was due, at least in part, to Dumbledore's intervention.
Ron stifled a grin as he watched Hermione leave the library as if being chased by one of Hagrid's latest "pets" before turning to watch Harry as he painstakingly wrote another sentence in his Potions essay. He suspected that Hermione had feelings for Harry, having watched as Hermione had continued glancing at Harry for the past hour and more since they had started to do their work in the library. He wasn't quite sure what he thought about his growing belief that Hermione liked Harry as more than just a friend. Did he himself still like Hermione in that way? He didn't think so. Not after the debacle that had been their attempt at dating last year. And yet, the knowledge that Hermione felt differently about Harry than she did for him made him feel distinctly odd.
Of course, he reflected, whatever Hermione's feelings for Harry were, it was clear that Harry was oblivious to it. Not that he blamed Harry. He had enough on his plate, what with Snape, O.W.L.'s and Voldemort to worry about. And yet he wondered…
"How's the essay going, Harry?" he asked, not because he really wanted to know but to break the silence.
Harry looked up, looking relieved for the distraction, and made a face. "Not very well. Snape's going to have fun marking this one up, I can tell."
Ron returned the look. "As if that git wouldn't have had fun taking points off anyway. Any idea what's up with Hermione? She never just runs out of the library like that. You and I do, but not Hermione."
Harry turned to look at the door again, as if expecting to see Hermione there, before shrugging. "Not a clue." He looked over at Ron's parchment that had even less written on it than Harry's did. "You're stuck too, huh?"
Ron grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, well, you know I hate Potions."
Harry grinned back and Ron took the opportunity to change the subject. "You know, Harry, I think Hermione likes you."
Harry blinked. "Well, yeah, I should hope she does; we've been friends for so long."
Ron rolled his eyes at Harry's determined obliviousness. "No, mate, I mean, I think she likes you as more than just a friend."
Harry looked as stunned as if Ron had suddenly announced his engagement to Snape. "What? No, I don't think so. We're just friends like we've always been. You know that." And besides, he added mentally, I don't like her like that.
Did he? Harry looked back down at his parchment blankly, not seeing his own handwriting but seeing Hermione's face, her warm brown eyes, the bushy hair that irritated her so much, the straight nose, the full lips… He pulled himself up short. Her lips?! Since when had he noticed her lips? She was his best friend, nothing more. Wasn't she?
Ron looked back down at his parchment to hide his grin, remembering something he'd read by Shakespeare, one of the few wizard authors who managed to write and be accepted by the Muggle world as well as the wizarding. Methinks he does protest too much, he thought and smirked to himself. Oh this was going to be amusing.
Later that night, Hermione couldn't sleep.
She had finally returned to the library to find Ron had dozed off over his Potions essay, had rolled her eyes before poking him awake while Harry looked on with a smirk. She had finished up her own essay for Potions, half a foot longer than it needed to be, then helped Harry finish his own essay. And he had grinned his thanks at her, his usual Harry grin that always made her feel like her insides were turning into mush.
It had worked even back in third year. She remembered Harry showing up in the middle of Honeydukes and asking whether she was going to turn him in for using his Invisibility Cloak, grinning. The grin never failed. And she had blushed and finally managed to stammer, "Oh - of course not - but honestly, Harry -" She had been relieved when Ron, dear Ron, so oblivious about some things (thank goodness), had dragged Harry away to show him the variety of sweets. It had allowed her some time to compose herself again.
She turned over in her bed restlessly, willing herself to stop thinking about Harry, stop wondering whether Harry felt the same way she did whenever they touched by accident, stop wondering what it would feel like to kiss Harry…
She sat straight up in bed. This wasn't working. She needed to distract herself, do something…
Making a quick decision, she decided to head down to the Common Room, grabbing a book on her way. Hopefully she'd be able to read herself into feeling sleepy.
This determination lasted until she set foot inside the Common Room to be stopped short by the sight of a very familiar head of untidy black hair. And for once in the entire time she'd known him, she wasn't happy to see him.
"Harry, what are you doing down here? Why aren't you sleeping?"
He started a little and turned to look at her. "Oh, Hermione, it's you," was all he said.
She frowned slightly. He didn't sound surprised that it was her.
She joined him on the sofa, tucking her legs underneath her in her habitual position. "I couldn't sleep so I decided to come down and read to make myself sleepy," she explained, tilting her head giving him a curious look.
He half-smiled at her. "I couldn't sleep either."
"No nightmares, I hope."
"No, nothing like that, just couldn't sleep." He didn't mention that he hadn't been able to sleep because he'd been wondering whether what Ron had said was true. Did Hermione really like him as more than a friend? And how did he feel about her? He had found himself remembering all the things she'd done for him over the years, the little habits of hers that he knew so well and somehow found endearing, the way she would nibble her quill when she was concentrating in class, the look on her face when she answered questions in class, the way her eyes lit up when she found some useful or interesting information in a book. All the things that made Hermione who she was. And all the things that made him- what? Like her? Care about her? Love her, even? He didn't know anymore. And it had thrown him off-balance, as if he'd suddenly lost his grip on his broom.
Hermione studied Harry thoughtfully. His green eyes looked distant, as if his mind were far away. Thankfully, he didn't look troubled, sad or angry, just oddly thoughtful and a little confused.
And then he blinked and shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, before looking at her again and chuckling a little.
"What is it, Harry?"
He grinned at her. "I was just thinking about when I first saw you on the train first year, and how little you've changed since then even with all that's happened."
She smiled. "Poor Neville. He was so distraught about losing Trevor. And then when I first saw you and Ron…" She leaned her head back on the sofa, studying him with a teasing smile curling up the corners of her lips. "I was rather disappointed when I first saw you, you know, Harry."
He looked surprised. "Disappointed? Why?"
"Oh, because I had read so much about you, I guess I was expecting some mythic heroic figure and then you were this skinny boy with broken glasses and a scar, just a normal boy." She grinned at him companionably as Harry laughed. "But then I got to know you and I realized that even if you didn't necessarily look the part, you were still every bit of a hero inside. Just Harry."
He smirked. "Just Harry, yes, that's me. Just Harry. Plain old boring Harry Potter."
She playfully swiped his arm. "You're not boring! You're just normal, a normal nice guy."
He sobered. "Right, a normal guy who just happens to have the worst Dark wizard in several centuries out to get him."
She sighed. "Oh, Harry, don't think like that. Remember what Hagrid said at the end of fourth year, 'What's coming will come, and we'll have to meet it when it does.'" She put a hand on his arm. "And you will meet it, Harry, and Ron and I will be right there with you when you do."
He looked down at her hand on his arm, an odd expression on his face, before looking back up to meet her concerned expression. "I know. Thanks, Hermione."
She smiled at him. "Anytime."
A yawn broke the comfortable silence that fell as Hermione suddenly realized how late it was getting and they had classes to go to the next morning.
She stood up as Harry did the same, stretching as he did so. "We'd better get some sleep, Harry."
"Yeah, I know," he said but he didn't move, just watched her as she stretched a little.
She put a friendly arm around his waist, firmly ignoring the heat that seemed to sizzle between them as she did so, and half-dragged, half-pushed him with her to the two staircases leading up to the dormitories where he'd go his way and she'd go hers.
"Goodnight, Harry," she said before turning to go when he stopped her with a hand on her arm. She turned back to look at him curiously. He looked as if he'd just realized something incredibly important, his green eyes oddly shining as he looked at her and before she knew what was happening, he had pulled her close and kissed her.
Her eyes closed and her brain seemed to shut down as she leaned into him, her hands moving from his arms to his shoulders, finally getting tangled in his hair. And all she could think was, At last.
The world was spinning, or had stopped entirely, or had just disappeared, ceased to exist. There was just her and Harry, his lips burning hers, sending sizzling heat all the way down to her toes, his hands on her back seeming to brand her as his.
She was his, she knew now, deep in her heart. She would always be his. He had claimed her forever with this one kiss.
They broke apart breathing hard, staring at each other as if they'd never seen each other before.
"Wow," was all Harry said finally.
She blushed before smiling at him, not caring that her heart was in her eyes, and kissed him quickly again, before turning to run up the stairs to her room, leaving him to stare after her almost dazedly, before turning slowly and making his own way to his own room where he flopped back onto his bed to stare at the ceiling and relive the kiss over and over again until his eyes finally grew heavy and he fell asleep, still dreaming of Hermione, his best friend, his more-than-friend, the girl he loved.
I climbed the door and opened the stairs,
Said my pajamas and put on my prayers,
Then turned off the bed and crawled into the light--
All because you kissed me good night
-from All Because You Kissed Me Good Night,
by Sandy Rolstan