You've Got Your Mother's Eyes
Being the gentleman that Harry is, or would like to think the COULD be, he walked Hermione and Samantha to the theater. After exchanging pleasantries with her parents, whom he had only seen a few times when buying books, he made his way to the Underground. Remembering the hug Hermione had given him and the light kiss on his cheek helped turned the long trip into a shorter one. Traffic also helped out since it was the middle of the afternoon and people were still working.
After getting off at the bus stop, he noticed no one was around. Grinning to himself, he decided he deserved to pay back Dudley for everything he had done, said and made him do throughout his life at the Dursley's.
So, just for fun, Harry apparated right next to Dudley as he was flipping through an electronics magazine at the kitchen table.
"Bloody Hell!" he screamed and jumped out of his chair, knocking it over and spilling his water all over the place.
"Dammit Harry…what the hell did you just do?" he was breathing heavily and his eyes were almost bulging out as far as his father's.
Harry smiled and replied cheekily, "Hullo, cousin." A second later he was gone, apparated up to his room. He could hear Dudley yelling his name and tearing around the kitchen.
"MUM! He just came…then left in thin air. Bloody Hell!" Dudley yelled, taking the stairs two at a time and barging into Harry's room.
Harry was calmly packing everything he owned into his trunk. He locked up Hedwig's cage and was contemplating the CD player when Aunt Petunia walked in.
"What is the meaning of this! You scared Dudley to death!" Aunt Petunia practically yelled at him. Harry turned around, all of a sudden in his Hogwarts robes. He was done with this Muggle household, he was ready to move to Grimmauld place. He was ready to apparate there the second he was done packing.
Dudley stared at him. "You just…you weren't…WHEN did you put that on?" he pointed a finger at Harry's robes. He had never seen his cousin in anything but his old, worn out clothes. Aunt Petunia just stared at him. Dudley just stared at him.
Something was happening and Harry didn't know what it was. Never, had both of them been so quiet just looking at him. It was if someone had cast a silencio charm over the room.
Harry glanced down at his black robes with the Gryffindor patch on his chest. His shirt and tie underneath. Black pants and comfortable black shoes. It felt so good to be out Dudley's hand me downs. He was warm in the robes, but was more relishing in the effect they had on his aunt and cousin.
"I can legally do magic now. I can apparate, which means APPEAR Dudley, at will. I can go anywhere I please in a blink of an eye. I am 17 now, and an adult. I can hex you, jinx you, charm you put a spell on you anyway I see fit if I feel threatened. And if you knew half of what I have done the past six years at school, I would tread carefully Dudley." Harry stared his cousin in the eye, enjoying the fact that he could stand up to him and not have to deal with his uncle, or aunt's wrath for talking badly to their Dudley-dinkins.
"You where a robe to school?" Dudley asked looking him up and down, clearly trying to cut Harry down from the pedestal on which he now stood.
"Everyone does, even the girls. For Quidditch, I wear a different robe," and with a flick of his wand, his dark red robe appeared, tan breeches…the whole uniform. Dudley's eyes grew huge. Aunt Petunia looked at him as if seeing him for the very first time.
"For--- WHAT?" Dudley didn't understand what Harry had just said and scowled as Harry gave a small sad smile and shook his head.
"Quidditch. A game played on broomsticks, very very popular. I went to the World Cup a few years back with the Weasley's. I am on the team at school and am the seeker…someone who needs to find a small gold flying ball that can be anywhere at anytime." Harry could see something in his Aunt's eyes he had never seen before…they seemed to change colors as she looked him up and down. Turning her head she looked at her son for a moment and then back to her nephew.
"A game?" Dudley repeated.
"Yes. If you attend the graduation in June, you might get to see one, but I doubt that you'd bother to come." Harry flicked his wand and was wearing the shorts and t-shirt from before. He saw Dudley jump back into his mother; she put a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"Now that you are 17 you can really leave now, can't you." It wasn't a question, more of a statement on Aunt Petunia's part.
"Yes," Harry nodded. "I inherited a house from my godfather and am packing up to move there. I'll stay there for… well for as long I'm alive I suppose." Harry busied himself with strapping his trunk closed, so he didn't have to meet his Aunt's peculiar gaze.
"Where is this house?"
"London," Harry wondered where all this newfound curiosity came from.
"So you are moving out? For good?" Dudley's face broke out into a huge, almost evil like grin. "I can get this room back for all my things!" he ran out of the room and Harry could hear him moving stuff around in his bedroom.
"So…," Harry grabbed his trunk and set Hedwig down on the floor next to it.
'I need to remember my manners, let her know that everything they did, and didn't do to me, did NOT change who I am. I need to at least thank them for taking me in; they could have refused and left me to face Voldemort and not have a chance.'
He could feel Aunt Petunia take another step towards him. He looked up and she was only a few feet away still looking at him. Her eyes traveled from his messed up black hair, to his eyes, to his hand me downs, then back up again.
He wasn't used to so much attention, quiet attention from her or anyone else in the household. What was going on with her?
Harry held out his hand. "Thank you for taking me in. I won't be trouble any longer.," he said, feeling a mix of emotions leaving the only family he had, whether he liked them or not.
Aunt Petunia slowly, almost shyly, slid her hand into his. He was surprised at how frail it felt. He squeezed it a bit and started to pull away, but she held fast. Raising his gaze from their hands, he met her eyes. Were there tears in there? What the hell was going on?
"You know, Harry…," she said softly looking straight at him, "You really do have your mother's eyes." And with that, she dropped his hand, turned slowly and walked out of his room.
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It was only three hours after he left number 4 Privet Drive and had apparated to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He and Kreacher had a stand off when Harry tried to do some cleaning. Harry banished him to the Hogwarts kitchens, then satisfied had walked around the whole house, gazing fondly at the portraits on the wall, the family tree, the familiar furniture.
'I have my own house!' Harry thought feeling all jumpy inside. He sat down on a chair and stared, without seeing, at the wall across from him.
'I can make my own meals, I can come and go as I please. I finally am free!' He thought, stretching his arms out behind his head, gazing fondly around. He needed to rest, he was drained from getting up so early and then having so much shoved at him at once.
I'll go have a nice nap, then apparate to the Weasley's and thank Ron's dad. A birthday dinner, what a great way to celebrate…EVERYTHING!
He levitated his trunk up the stairs and checked out all the bedrooms trying to figure which he would take. At the very end of the hallway was a huge room over-looking a garden that had been very well attended. Rose bushes, well trimmed shrubs surrounded a stone walkway. He made a mental note to explore the garden after his nap. Turning around, he surveyed his room
He had a King Size bed, what looked like new furniture and a nice cozy fireplace, unlit of course in this heat. There was an armchair in the corner and a bookcase behind it, already filled with books on Quidditch, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Hogwarts: A History. Of course, that made him think of Hermione as he threw himself down on the soft bed, removing his glasses first and enjoyed the soft pillow beneath his head. This bed was the softest most comfortable one ever; almost like the first time he had held Hermione in that way.
The confused teenager played the events of the last few months in his head.
The common room, the kiss on the tower; the look of pure terror on her face as he opened his eyes days after he had defeated Voldemort. How that look of terror changed from shock to relief to her sobbing on his chest.
Of the way she looked at him at dinner and took his hand willingly. The way she laid her hand on his knee. It was like she was reminding him over and over that she was there and not going anywhere. Many people, all the ones Harry ever cared about in his life, were gone except for Harry, Ron and a few other friends. Now that Voldemort was gone, he felt that his friends were no longer in danger. He couldn't wait to get back to school and spend the next 10 months with his fellow students, especially a certain Granger. He had no idea where they were headed, but he liked what was happening in the here and now.
He smiled as he shut his eyes and fell asleep so content and relaxed, he didn't even realize that for the first time since he was 11 that his wand wasn't within reach.
He remembered seeing the Snitch, just out of his reach above one of the rings and that is when it happened. A sharp CRACK and hundreds of screams filled the air, right as his scar burned ferociously.
He remembered twisting around to see what the yelling was all about and then he saw HIM.
Voldemort had somehow apparated onto the Quidditch Pitch. The Gryffindor and Slytherin team had halted and were staring down, about 20 feet below them at the figure that seemed to rise up out of the ground.
Harry looked next to him and saw Ron holding onto the ring. He was shaking and his face was white as a sheet.
"GO!" Harry yelled at him, waving frantically to the opposite side of the pitch.
"Get Hermione and GO!" Harry saw a barely perceptible nod and not waiting any longer, drew his wand that he carried everywhere. Since Hermione had been getting better at knitting, she had sewn in a pocket to his Quidditch robes so he could have it anywhere.
Harry turned to fully face his attacker, shutting down his mind before he even felt the first whisper of a dark thought.
"YOU WILL DIE!" a voice boomed from under him. Harry looked down, gripping his broom so tight his hand was going numb. He saw all the Hogwarts students running to the school.
'Not tonight', Harry thought and Voldemort roared his disapproval, raising up his wand above him throwing a spell towards Harry, but Harry sloth-rolled on his broom and fired back at him. The spells collided closer to Harry than he wanted to see and let off a cacophony of fireworks. Slowly, Voldemort levitated himself up to Harry's level.
Harry never wavered, staring straight at him. He kept his mind completely blank, trying to probe Voldemort's mind for any thoughts on what he was going to do. Suddenly, he raised his wand and without uttering a word, put forth a spell that he had been trying to perfect, one of the many. Voldemort ducked and caught a bit of it on his heavily cloaked shoulder, which Harry took to his advantage of whipping his broom around and flew parallel to the Dark Lord, never taking his eyes off of him. His only thought was to get him away from the school.
He thought he still saw some movement out of the corner of his eye, down below him in the corner of the field, but he couldn't take his eyes off to confirm it.
He and Voldemort did a slow dance. Both knowing that each other had the power to kill, the spell to murder and each knew how to use it to its full extent. It was like a standoff and Harry was hoping beyond hope that Voldemort would mess up, just one fraction of a millimeter.
"COME ON! GETTING OLD AND CAN'T REMEMBER HOW TO KILL ANYONE?" Harry yelled at him, trying to egg him on. They were now both about 20 feet above the stadium and slowly, slowly, Harry was moving to his right trying to get beyond the rings furthest away from the school.
"LITTLE CHILD, YOU HAVE BEEN A THORN IN MY SIDE FOR TOO LONG." Voldemort's voice carried over the pitch and could be heard back at the school.
"BACK AT YOU!" Harry shot a spell at him so quickly that this time it hit Voldemort before he could move totally out of the way, but he fired one back so quickly Harry could only yank his broom upward and felt the rush of electricity fly by him.
Harry had a fleeting thought that none of his spells were working. He needed a stronger one. Quickly he shut his mind down, knowing what he had to do, hoping against all hope that Dumbledore had taught him everything.
"THE PROPHECY WILL COME TRUE TONIGHT. YOU WILL DIE AT MY HAND!" and with that Voldemort raised his wand and chanted the curse that Harry had only heard once before, and that one time yielded a loss of a friend, for which Harry was avenging tonight.
Harry had anticipated it and raised his wand, but someone was faster, someone was quicker. He heard three voices below him screaming the same spell and saw three white streaks come out of their wands and envelope Voldemort. Harry saw all of this as the green light sped towards him, a voice said NOW in his mind and while clutching his broom with his left hand, yanking it to the right to avoid the death spell, he aimed his wand at Voldemort and screamed out the spell that Dumbledore had worked long and hard with him. He didn't notice if it hit Voldemort as he felt a terrifying chill race through his body, felt his grip lessen on his broom and felt weightless as he fell towards the ground, eyes closed, mind blank like in a blissful sleep before he slammed to the ground.
Harry sat straight up in bed, from the shock of the dream and hearing a noise next to him.
"Harry, what's wrong?" came a voice he knew only too well. He felt someone sit next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
Breathing hard and shaking, he managed to just shake his head. He leaned forward and rested his head on Hermione's shoulder, not having the strength to sit up straight anymore.
'How does she always know when I need someone?' he thought, wrapping his arms around her. He was thankful she didn't ask any other questions. She knew. She had seen him dream before. He forced the thoughts from his head, concentrating on Hermione and that he was AWAKE and it was OVER.
He felt his heart regain its normal, steady beat and his breathing even out; it felt like he had just run a mile then abruptly stopped.
Hermione's hands were on his shoulders, giving a slow massage to the muscles that were tense under there. Merlin, that felt great.
He turned his head so his cheek lay on her shoulder. He could feel the soft cotton of a shirt and the bones of her shoulder, and as if he had directed them there himself, her hands began to work on his neck. Instinctively, he tightened his arms around her, so thankful that she was there. Her hands working wonders on his taut neck muscles and across his shoulders.
"Are you ok?" she whispered never stopping.
"I am now," he whispered back, closing his eyes. "That feels great," he sighed. He had never had a massage before and began to think he could really enjoy this.
"You're so tense from that dream, Harry." She squeezed his biceps a bit and he bit his lip from letting out a groan out loud.
"I'll have that dream every day if you rub my shoulders like this." Harry nestled his head into his shoulder. "Do you do back rubs too?" He asked half to himself, half to Hermione. The question was answered when she pushed him back, and grabbed him by the shoulders, twisting him slightly towards the bed.
"Lay on your stomach." She practically pushed him down.
"I should have known, studying healing and all that," he mumbled into the pillow. He felt her move closer to him until her thigh was against his hip. Her hands slowly kneaded his neck and worked their way down his shoulders and back.
"You seem to have a habit of apparating into my bedrooms," Harry said, playfully and was rewarded with a squeeze on either side of his ribcage which elicited a loud laugh as he pulled away from her.
"Behave," she told him and continued her massage to his lower back. Harry just shut up and let her work. He closed his eyes and felt her fingers working on his lower back, right above his waist. So many feelings were going through his mind, through his body: her hands were on him in a most intimate kind of way, he couldn't believe this was Hermione giving him the best massage ever; he wanted to hold her and push her away all at once. Her friendship was the most valuable gift, except right now his hormones were thinking that maybe it could be put in second place.
Her hands worked their way along his spine, and then up to his shoulders again. Here she stopped and let her hands rest.
"Better?" She asked leaning down and cocking her head sideways so her face was even with his. Harry opened his eyes and stared into hers, realizing that he needed to answer. One word Harry, force it out….
"Fine," he breathed, never taking his eyes from her face. Did she have any idea what she had just done to him? He didn't think he could roll over anytime soon and was hoping she wouldn't ask him to stand up anytime soon.
He was amazed to see her stretch out beside him, also on her stomach. She propped her head in her left hand and the
other was lying on his pillow. Harry lifted up his head and mimicked her posture. Glad he didn't have to stand up
yet.
"Now that you are here and that you are free to just live, I think you'll start having that dream less and less," brown eyes met his and he was so close to her that she wasn't even blurry.
"Thanks for coming. You somehow know when I'm having that dream…," he let his voice trail off as he lost his train of thought.
"I just feel it somehow. Can't explain it, though I have tried," she smiled at him letting him know that she probably looked in every book in the library about ESP or dreams.
"It helps--," he began noticing how close their hands were. Tentatively he reached out and touched her ring on her hand. He took the stone between his fingers and felt the prongs around the sapphire, felt the smooth gold band around her finger.
Hermione was controlling her breathing, she was this close to him and she didn't want him to think of anything but himself at this point. But, she knew what he was going to say after "it helps", and she wanted to hear him say it. The bond that made them friends had been added by another bond that was radiating out of each of them, trying to make its way to the other person.
Hermione just wanted to hold him, to kiss him and was having a hard time with trying to keep those feelings so deep inside of her. He was never good at being able to read difficult and confused feelings, so perhaps, she thought, if she kept them near the surface he would pick up on it. She saw his fingers play with her ring and resisted the urge to grab his hand and hold it. She was so confused she didn't know whether to pull those feelings up or keep them pushed down.
'Give me a clue she thought silently! Say it! Say "it helps to have me",' she wished silently. He never liked admitting he needed anyone and she knew that. Maybe if I help him along? Maybe if I whisper back to him, he'll say it. But, she knew she WANTED those words to come out of him without any help.
With a sudden surge of emotion that spread from his heart into his chest and down into his limbs, he removed his hand and rested it on her shoulder. Her eyebrows were slightly raised and he could tell she was waiting for him to finish his thought.
'Merlin, Hermione, how can you be so calm and cool when I am over here dying with you so close!'
He took a deep breath and as he spoke he raised his hand to touch her head lightly, "It helps having you here."
He saw her gaze falter from his for a second as his hand dropped to the back of her neck. He pushed himself up further on his arm until their faces were perfectly level, his eyes searching hers. 'Bloody hell, when did she get so beautiful?" he wondered. He moved his hand on her neck, similar to the neck rub he had just received.
Every effort Hermione had made to keep her composure to seem like laying in bed, HIS bed, was the most natural, platonic thing that she had done, crumbled to the ground.
"Harry," she breathed as she let her head drop enjoying the sensation. She felt him shift closer to her and the hand that was on the back of her neck dropped to her waist. She lifted her head to protest, and was immediately entranced by his clear, unobstructed green eyes. He leaned over and kissed her, putting gentle pressure on her lips, waiting to see if she would slap him or not. He heard her breathe in sharply as she slid closer to him. Taking this as a positive sign, he cradled her head to the pillow kissing her the whole way, turning her so that he was half covering her body.
Hermione felt Harry gently explore her mouth, felt him lean into her and loved the way he was so slow, so careful, and almost timid about the whole thing. He was an excellent, experienced Seeker, but when it came to girls, he knew nothing but what Hermione had told him and Ron whenever they had done something stupid around a girl.
However, his hand on her thigh was not a stupid thing, she could feel his hand move up and down on her skin, she could feel him press closer to her as their kiss deepened and she felt like she was falling backwards, even though he was cradling her.
Harry slowly moved his hand from her thigh and stroked her cheek so lightly; she was trembling beneath him and with tremendous effort he pulled away. He could see her eyes, ten times darker than before. Her pupils were full of him.
"Are you ok?" he asked quietly as hands stilled on her body, not daring to move.
"Yes," she breathed, grabbing the back of his head and bringing his lips down to hers. He opened his mouth under hers and ran his tongue along the tip of hers, not expecting the reaction he did. She somehow had shifted him, very effortlessly so he was lying on top of her. He supported himself on his forearms, hands caught in her hair as their kiss deepened. He didn't care if she could feel how excited he was, he wanted to love her all the ways he could. He had never known it until this moment. This was the one aspect of their bond that had never been explored and it seemed like both were willing to try.
Her hands were running up his back, pulling his shirt out of his waistband and suddenly they were on his bare back. He gasped against her lips, which just made her arch up into him.
'Oh, that was brilliant!' he thought, feeling her press into him and hearing her make a soft noise in her throat. His hands tightened in her hair as he pushed back against her, at first unsure of what she as telling him. Again she pushed her hips into his and he pushed back, again.
He felt her hands, reach up and grab his shoulders, grasping him tightly as she answered his movements. Drawing back a fraction she saw that her eyes were closed and her face was an open book. He could see the private emotional Hermione laying there and he just wanted to cry that she was so trusting of him. On impulse he leaned down and kissed her on her collarbone.
"Harry," she whispered, running her hands down his back and pushing up against him, he nuzzled her neck, taking in her sweet smell of fresh soap and that flowery smell he first experienced on the tower.
"Hmmmm," he kissed her jawline, only partially aware of answering her. He didn't give her a chance to respond when he moved back to her lips. This time, she pushed up into him with her mouth and her hips; he could feel the pressure of her fingers, asking him to answer her. Slowly, he moved against her, shocked at the feeling it sent coursing through his whole body. Their breathing became faster and her hands curled around his back and pressed him to her.
"Hermione," he breathed against her cheek, one hand reached for her hip and stilled her for a moment.
"Fine…," she breathed back and turned to him, feeling his hand snake under her back and pull her closer her.
She felt his hand against her bare skin, again and couldn't help but to push up against him, not sure what she wanted but just knowing she wanted to feel him on her, to share THIS with him. He matched her movements, following her lead, not wanting to do anything she didn't want. (If it felt this good with clothes on, he had a brief thought of what it would feel like with them off!)
He kissed her lips, her neck, her collarbone, feeling her breathe faster and grab his back…there was no turning back now. He felt like they were getting closer and closer to a common goal, like she was running to him and he couldn't meet her half way fast enough…he could see her running down the dining hall, saying his name and launching herself into her arms…he could hear her making soft noises that related to his primal side, to every boys primal side to join her. He grabbed her, hands snaking around her back and managed to turn them over in the huge bed, feeling her soft body on top of his. They moved against each other and he felt something he had never felt before, thought something he had never thought before, that Hermione was his, right now.
She pulled away, just for a second and stared down at him, not giving her a chance to think, he pulled her head roughly towards his and met her kiss with a passion he didn't know he had, having her on top of him was just to much for him to even comprehend and he totally gave in to her, to the feel of her, to the smell of her.
He heard her cry his name against his mouth and he arched into her, feeling the pure joy that he, Harry Potter, had brought her to this moment. He gasped and let go of everything, feeling her mouth on his neck, he buried his face in her shoulder and murmured her name, before feeling her collapse on top of him…faces in each other's shoulders, his hands on her hips and hers tangled in his hair. She moved a bit and rolled off of him, still touching him as she lay on her side.
Harry was spent, he never ever thought that would happen to him with her, and now that it had he felt a mixture of embarrassment and happiness that someone, that Hermione, shared this moment with him.
Neither one had ever gone that far before, or they would have told each other. Now, they didn't have to say a word, he turned to look at her and found her gazing at him, tears in her eyes. He smiled at her and she smiled back, softly tracing his cheek.
"When?" he asked her, knowing that she would understand the question. He was asking her when she knew that she loved him, even though she hadn't said it (because when you said it, then there were so many more emotions on the table).
"Ever since I saw you on the train going to our sixth year. It just hit me that it could be our last year together and I didn't want that."
"Really?" he was surprised, he had no idea she was harboring feelings for him until after the holiday, when she started acting strange, and even then, being a guy, he didn't know what the problem was.
She nodded and traced his mouth with her finger.
"Is that….a problem?" she asked hesitantly. Harry answered her by pulling him to her into a strong embrace.
"No, but I wish I knew sooner then I would have known what I was feeling all those months…," he let his voice trail off.
"And?" she could tell he wasn't done with his thought.
She felt him give a little laugh.
"We could have done this sooner!" and for that he was rewarded with a soft slap against his shoulder, but she smiled just the same.
"Happy Birthday, Harry," she whispered.