Harry was beginning to think that being glued to Hermione was the best luck he'd had in days. Ever since he'd decided on his plan to protect Hermione at all costs, he'd been mulling over the best way to do so without irritating her. He suspected Hermione would not react well if he announced his intention to become her own personal bodyguard.
Being glued together was the perfect cover. This way he could keep an eye on her without arousing her suspicions.
As usual, things went brilliantly until it came crashing down around him.
"Harry? I… uh… I need to pee."
Hermione's voice was a high-pitched squeak. Harry's stomach seemed to clench and twist.
That's how they found themselves outside the girl's lavatories, Hermione fidgeting back and forth with her legs crossed.
"I am not going in there," Harry declared. "Can't we use the prefect's bathroom?"
Hermione shook her head. "Can't. Too far away."
Harry swore.
Three second-year girls piled out of the lavatory, bursting into giggles when they saw them.
Harry sighed. "Let's get this over with."
Thankfully, there was no one else in the bathroom-yet, Harry reflected miserably. Hermione dragged him to the last stall, locking the door behind them.
"This is cozy," Harry muttered.
Hermione shot him a look. "Just wait until it's your turn."
Harry-who hadn't yet considered that, immediately felt mortified. His jaw dropped, but Hermione pushed him around, twisting both their arms in the process.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"So you'll keep your back turned," she said.
"Why can't I just close my eyes?"
Hermione sniffed.
"You don't trust me?"
Hermione sniffed again. "It's not that I don't trust you." She sounded doubtful. "It's that… I don't know if I could… perform, so to speak, with you watching me."
"Oh," Harry said.
He heard Hermione shifting around behind him. His arm was really beginning to hurt.
"Are you done yet?"
There was a moment of silence.
"I'm… I'm having trouble."
"You're having trouble?"
"Well, it's really hard to pee when you're just standing there!"
"Sorry. 'Fraid I can't do anything about that!"
"Oh, for heaven's sakes-"
Hermione stopped. The door opened and closed, followed by the loud chatter of excited girls.
They loudly discussed the latest gossip ("Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore? Really?"), who was dating whom ("I heard Abbot left Macmillan for Boot."), and if they had Charms or Transfiguration next.
Harry unconsciously held his breath until they left.
"Why do girl always go to the bathroom in GROUPS?"
Hermione tutted. "I don't."
"Yes, but you're different."
Later on, Harry would reflect that it was, perhaps, not the best way to say that. The truth was, he was tremendously relieved Hermione wasn't like other girls because he didn't much like most girls.
The trickle of water snapped him from his thoughts and he almost turned around before he remembered why they were in the bathroom.
"This is so mortifying," Hermione mumbled.
He heard her fumbling for toilet paper, jerking his arm around in the process.
"Can I help with something?"
"Harry!"
She flushed the toilet, allowing Harry to turn around. She wrinkled her nose, her face screwing up in concentration. Harry would have given anything to know what was going on inside her head.
He wondered what it would be like to lean forward and kiss her, changing her look to one of surprise. Did she still fancy him? Had she given up on him?
And did it matter? Could he possibly act on his feelings, knowing what kind of danger it would put her in?
"… don't want any worse teasing, so it'd be best to spend the night in the common room."
She peered at him thoughtfully, evidently assuming he'd been listening to her.
"Er… sure. Yeah. That sounds fine."
Hermione dragged him out of the bathroom stall, face determined. Harry stumbled along after her, struggling with feelings that were certainly more-than-platonic.
****
"You're stuck together?" Ron said, mouth full of food.
"Yes," Harry snapped, tired of having to explain the situation.
Hermione kept spilling food all over the table in her attempt to eat left-handed.
"Harry, stop fidgeting," she said.
"I'm not!"
"You are! My whole arm is shaking!"
"I'm telling you, I'm not moving."
"It's really rather irritating."
"It's really rather irritating to keep being pelted with food!"
"Well," she said nastily. "That's not my problem, is it?"
The both stopped and glared at each other.
Ron burst into laughter. "I should separate you lot." He paused and then grinned. "Oh, right… I can't!"
Ron spat pumpkin juice over the table in his hysterics.
Harry stabbed at his broccoli, feeling miserable. He didn't like bickering with Hermione, but their annoyance with each other had been steadily growing all day.
He shot Hermione an apologetic look.
"Malfoy is going to pay for this one." He made his voice as menacing as possible, but Hermione barely smiled in response.
"Mmm," she said, drawn back to her meal.
****
By the evening, Harry was beginning to miss their incessant bickering. Hermione had barely spoken since dinner, growing quieter as the night wore on.
She'd charmed her quill to write for her, ignoring his presence as she concentrated on her homework. Harry found he didn't have the same self-control. He couldn't stop looking at her.
He began to realize things about Hermione he'd never noticed before. She bit her bottom lip when she was thinking, twirling a stand of hair around in her fingers. Her nose scrunched up when she read, her eyes zooming down the page as she hurried to absorb every word. When she was annoyed with Ron, her eyes narrowed, small red spots appearing on her cheeks.
He wished he could stop staring, but her hand fastened to his kept him rooted.
Slowly the common room emptied out, the fire dying down to tiny embers. Hermione still did not look up from her essay.
"Hermione?"
"Yes?"
Her voice was slightly breathless and Harry frowned. "You're angry with me, aren't you?"
Hermione furiously finished her sentence, her hand clenched tightly on her lap.
"No," she said.
Harry found her eyes and tried to muster as much sensitivity as he could. "Then… what's wrong?"
Hermione sighed and leaned back on the couch, squeezing her eyes shut. Harry glanced at their joined hands and then to her face.
"Hermione?"
She took a deep breath. "I always thought that if… if we ever happened, it'd be perfect." She opened her eyes and Harry was startled to see tears in them. "That-that no one could ever know you as well as I do. But this-this settles it. We couldn't work."
"What?" Harry said, genuinely bewildered. "What d'you mean?"
"Oh, Harry," she said sadly. "You saw what happened today. We can't even spend twenty-four hours glued together!" She gave a loud sniff. "How could we possibly have a relationship?"
"I… uh…" Harry's tongue felt thick and clumsy. "Do you really think so?"
Disappointment filled him and he wished she wasn't there. He was too embarrassed to look at her.
"It's not you," she said. "It's good, Harry, that this happened!" Her voice was cheerful. "We're just not meant to be."
Harry blinked and then shook his head. "Yes, we are," he blurted. "I don't think this proves anything except that we shouldn't use the lavatories together. I think…" Harry dropped his voice. "I think we'd be brilliant together."
Hermione's face changed, her eyes growing wider and her mouth curving upwards.
"Oh, Harry…"
She surprised him by snuggling down against him, throwing her free arm over his torso. She rested her head on his chest, near his shoulder, giving a delicate little yawn.
Harry stayed completely still, mesmerized by his best friend. She felt so perfect like this, with her arms around him and her hair brushing his chin.
"I mean it," he said quietly.
"I know," she said, smiling and snuggling closer.
Harry waited for a moment, letting himself absorb the feel of Hermione lying on him, soaking up the warmth of her body.
"Maybe being glued together isn't so terrible," he whispered.
Hermione raised her head so she could see his eyes, her hair cascading down over her shoulders so it touched his chest. Without thinking, his hand came up, his fingers weaving through her strands. She shifted, but didn't say anything. The tip of her tongue poked out of her mouth, wetting her lips.
So many jumbled emotions piled into his mind, thoughts and desires tripping over themselves and making his heart pound.
Could he close the distance between them and kiss her? Or would that doom them? He needed her friendship too much-the risk was unbearable.
She leaned back against him, hugging his chest.
"But it doesn't matter, does it?" she said, her voice hushed. "You don't care about me that way."
Harry swallowed and listened to his heart thump. He didn't say anything, only continued to stroke her hair. Words would ruin the moment, anyway.