Author's Note
And because I can, I've chosen to ignore any relationships that may have made their way into canon. *grins*
And any similarities in this story to the "universe" of "Day by Day " and "Four Weddings" are entirely deliberate - but are few and far between…
This was an idea which popped into my (thankfully) deluded head yesterday and I decided to go with it to save my sanity…what's left of it, that is…
Dedication
To my lovely friend and beta, Kirsti, who is never too busy (despite the fact that she never stops!) to run her eagle eye over my stories and not only is she brilliant at picking up grammatical errors and omissions, she inspires me with her gentle suggestions and makes me laugh with her humorous comments! She also provides a cyber-shoulder upon which I can have a "cry" and puts up with my emails which are really longwinded waffles in disguise! Thank you dear - you are truly a gem and I hope this story puts a smile on your face! Janie xoxoxo
And having said all that - any errors, omissions and holes in this story are solely mine as I didn't want Kirsti to beta her own "surprise"!
EXCUSES, INTENTIONS & CONSEQUENCES
By JanieB
When: Their fourth year out of Hogwarts. A week before Christmas.
Where: London, England.
What (Current situation):
Hermione's working as an Assistant Researcher for the General Research Into Everything Department at the Ministry of Magic and doing very nicely, thank you. Harry is, of course, an Auror (first year) although Dark Wizards are in rather short supply since he defeated Voldemort during his Seventh Year at Hogwarts.
Hermione found her dream flat when she first moved to London (lucky witch!) after leaving Hogwarts. At her "flat-warming", Harry expressed an interest in renting the spare, third bedroom and Hermione happily agreed; Ron, being a bit of a "party animal", preferred to have his own place (Harry and Hermione preferred he did too) and he did so, just a short walk from Hermione's (which came in handy when they didn't want him and his bad jokes and snores at their place…)
Not long after Harry moved in, he and Hermione discovered they both had the same "problem": unwanted attention from the opposite sex, mainly at work. They both wanted to concentrate on their careers for the next couple of years and weren't interested in getting involved with someone just yet. They came up with a brilliant solution and made a pact to help each other out of this predicament - they would tell anyone from whom they were receiving the unwelcome attention that they were already taken, thank you very much. By each other.
Aside from forgetting who they were (ie, Harry Potter, Drop-Dead Gorgeous Saviour of the World and Hermione Granger, Saviour's Right-Hand Very Clever Pretty Witch), there was one other little thing they'd overlooked as they'd gloated over their brilliance…Their friends and other people would invite them out as a couple and expect them to act like a couple…in fact, most people couldn't wait to see Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, Couple Extraordinaire….
***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
`Not again!' groaned Hermione as she dropped onto the chair Harry had pulled out for her. She'd just rad the parchment Harry had handed her before sitting at the kitchen table. Two freshly made cups of tea were before them to help brace them meet Monday morning at their respective offices.
`Yep,' said Harry.
`Can't we say no?' asked Hermione as she picked up her cup and gingerly sipped at the hot tea.
`Nope,' said Harry.
Hermione blew gently across the surface of the hot liquid, a frown crinkling her forehead.
`Are you sure? Didn't we go last time?'
`Yep and yep,' said Harry.
`Harry! You're not helping!'
`Nope,' said Harry.
Hermione put her cup down and laughed - Harry could always make her laugh.
`So, you and me, to another of Lavender Brown's Cheesy Hogwarts Reunion Parties.'
`Yep,' said Harry.
`That's enough of the monosyllables, Harry Potter! We need to plan…'
`Never mind, Hermione,' said Harry as he gave away the monosyllables with a lopsided smile, `I've already got it worked out. This time, if we need a cover story, we can say we've had an argument about something and that's the reason we're not "hanging off each other" as Ron so descriptively puts it.'
`You don't think we've used that excuse too often, do you?' asked Hermione, her expression worried.
Harry shook his head. `I've been keeping track of our excuses so we don't double up too often.'
Hermione reached over and patted Harry's hand. `I can always count on you, Harry.'
Turning his hand over, Harry gave Hermione's hand a gentle squeeze. `And I can always rely on you, Hermione.'
`We're quite a team, aren't we?' Hermione remarked, smiling across at him.
`Yep,' said Harry.
So the following Friday night found them at The Burning Broomstick, a wizard pub which Lavender Brown had booked out for her annual reunion which, although she called them "Hogwarts Reunion Parties" were mostly just Gryffindors from their year with some former students from the years just below and above as well.
As they stepped out of the fireplace and began brushing themselves down, Harry and Hermione gave each other a "here-we-go" smile and set off towards the courtyard (covered for winter because real snow, unlike magical snow, was rather tiresome, not to mention cold and wet). They knew this was where they'd find most of their friends, Harry taking Hermione's hand in his as they walked.
`Here they are at last!' they heard Ron call and spotting his waving hand, headed towards a large, long table at which sat Ron, Ginny, Fred and George, Seamus, Neville, Dean, Colin Creevey and Parvati Patil.
Ron moved over, pushing at Fred and telling him to make room, leaving a spot for Harry and Hermione between himself and George.
As they sat down, replying to all the calls of "hello", two glasses of butterbeer appeared before them courtesy of Neville who was closest to the bar, for which they smiled their thanks.
George Weasley, sitting beside Hermione, leaned over and nudged her with his shoulder.
`So, Hermione, how's life with the wizarding world's wonder boy?' he asked cheekily, winking.
Hermione swiped him playfully on the arm before easily distracting him by asking about the latest inventions of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.
Beside her, Harry was having an in-depth conversation with Ron…well, not really, he was just listening to the details of Ron's latest conquest.
`Ron, don't you ever want to settle down with the one girl?' asked Harry, rolling his eyes.
`What? Like you and Hermione?'
Harry coughed, his hand over his mouth to hide his smile.
`Yeah, like me and Hermione!'
`One day - but not yet - too many pretty girls out there to sample!'
`You make them sound like ice cream flavours!' laughed Harry.
At that point, Lavender stood up in front of the doors into the courtyard, now closed, and clapped her hands to gain everyone's attention. Harry noticed Dean and Seamus stand up and walk around the outside of the room towards Lavender.
`Hello, everyone! Thank you for coming!' she started. `Now, as usual, we're going to have dancing - which is why the centre of the courtyard is empty, in case you were wondering! Seamus and Dean are going to look after the playing of the music and just to spice things up a little, beware the spotlight once more! Enjoy and just to let you know, dinner will be served in an hour. Have fun everyone!'
As Lavender finished speaking they heard the strains of the latest Weird Sister's offering.
`What does she mean by "beware the spotlight"?' asked Colin Creevey; this was his first reunion.
`It means,' Ginny began explaining, giving Neville a look that caused him to blush beetroot red, `that if the spotlight hits you while you're dancing, you have to kiss your partner then and there.'
Colin's eyes widened. `What if you're dancing with someone who's not your partner?' he asked.
Ginny shrugged. `Doesn't matter - you have to kiss them! That's what makes it fun!'
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances as Ginny spoke. They knew what the spotlight meant. They'd managed to avoid it at last year's reunion as they weren't "officially" a "couple" then and both had declined any other offers to dance. Leaning down to whisper in Hermione's ear and avoid being overheard, Harry said, `We'd better dance, don't you think? I think I saw Colin eyeing you off and Parvati's been smiling meaningfully at me. Unless you'd rather risk kissing Colin.'
Hermione laughed softly. `You're just terrified of kissing Parvati!'
Harry looked a little flustered. `Well, there's that too…'
Hermione stood up and held out her hand, smiling. `Come on Oh-He-Who-Saved-The-World but is too afraid to kiss a girl, let's dance!'
And as they danced, the Weird Sister's strident tones were replaced by a slower number sung by Celestina Warbeck (`Is that Seamus and Dean's idea of a joke?' asked Ginny, rolling her eyes, who was beyond enjoyment of anything sung by Celestina since it was about the only music ever played at the Burrow that she could remember and she was heartily sick of it.)
As the slower music took over, Harry drew Hermione to him and they automatically moved together, something they did easily these days having had regular practise as a "couple" the past eleven months. Harry found himself pondering Hermione's comment, that he was "too afraid to kiss a girl".
I think perhaps Hermione's right - maybe I am a little afraid of kissing a girl! How did that happen? Post-Cho Trauma Syndrome perhaps? Harry smiled to himself. Aside from a number of sessions in various Hogwarts broom cupboards and a rather memorable evening in the Astronomy Tower with that Fifth Year - what was her name? - he'd never really met anyone he desperately wanted to kiss - well, not so much that he was prepared to go through the agony of asking them on a date and such. I turned twenty-one this year and the only really serious snogging I've done was at Hogwarts, he thought, surprised. I guess my training and work has taken up all my time and energy…
Whilst Harry pondered his lack of snogging, Hermione was busy thinking about the report she hadn't managed to finish that afternoon, wondering if she should pop into the office for a couple of hours the next morning.
It was Harry, whispering rather loudly, that brought her back to herself.
`Hermione! Hermione!'
She looked up, wondering what on earth was up.
Bloody hell. The spotlight. It was on them!
She glanced up at Harry who looked a lot like a hippogriff that'd had his flight feathers cut and was trying to escape from a hungry Horntail.
Hermione forced a smile. Kissing Harry can't be too bad, she thought bravely. I mean, it is just Harry!
`Harry! Harry!'
Harry's blank gaze moved to hers.
`Oh, for goodness' sake, Harry! You won't die if we kiss - come on, quickly! Everyone's watching and waiting!'
Harry found himself looking down at Hermione's exasperated, although still smiling, countenance. Kiss Hermione? Me? Hermione? Can't be too bad - she's right - I won't die. At least not physically. Why am I thinking of dying? This is weird. And strange. And very, very peculiar. All right. She has a rather nice looking mouth. Actually, a very nice mouth - her lips look nice and soft and shiny - quite delicious actually. Delicious? Had he just thought that? About Hermione's lips? That he was about to kiss - because Hermione had obviously given up on him taking the initiative and he could suddenly feel a warm, small hand curling around the back of his neck - were they shivers down his spine? - and he felt his head being pulled down and his eyes suddenly left those soft, delicious lips and met a pair of dancing, soft brown eyes…Merlin help me! he thought, wondering what lay on the other side of this moment…
It was the longest, and shortest, and most softly delicious, absolutely wonderful moment of his life to date. Definitely.
This, he'd thought a little drunkenly as their lips met, is why people spend ages - hours! - snogging! Oh, to feel like this all the time! From the point in time when their lips had met he felt as though some strange magical force was spreading throughout his whole body, lighting up a lot of unused nooks and crannies.
But the magic receded when Hermione's lips left his and he felt suddenly horribly bereft. He wanted to cry out and demand that she keep kissing him - that the way he'd felt was too wonderful to give up! He gazed down at her, oblivious to the catcalls, whistles and clapping going on around them.
`Hermione?' he whispered, not knowing what he was asking.
Hermione, to his relief, looked as dazed as he did. He wasn't alone. That was good. Wasn't it?
`Harry?' She didn't know what she was asking either. Neither of them knew anything, obviously.
Then Harry felt a slap on his back, followed by the jovial tones of his best mate.
`Harry, mate! Didn't think I'd ever get to see you two kiss! You sure made up for it though, well done!'
He couldn't look away from Hermione. Well done? What the hell was that supposed to mean?!
`Thanks, Ron, it was a moment, wasn't it?' Hermione's voice was strangely breathless, but at least she'd been able to speak.
Good old Hermione - she'd come to his rescue once again!
Thankfully the spotlight faded and the music continued and everyone kept dancing. They were left alone, unmoving, in a sea of people.
`Let's go,' she whispered, and that's the only encouragement he needed.
They ran. No, actually, they bolted.
They needed to escape for they both felt confused and embarrassed. Aside from other unmentionable emotions.
Harry was feeling rather disorientated as they walked along. They'd left the pub and had mutually agreed to make the twenty minute walk home rather than Floo or Apparate; they needed to think.
Harry was feeling his inexperience with girls rather keenly and didn't know whether his reaction to kissing Hermione was the usual one when you kissed a girl - or just when he kissed Hermione? Would it happen the next time he kissed her? Next time? What was he thinking? Well, for one, there was no way he wasn't going to try and experience that sort of feeling again - it was just too amazing! But how? His mind spun around - he didn't know what to do or what to think and he was really quite afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he dared to speak right now…
Hermione was basically in shock.
What the hell was that? she asked herself ferociously. Her analytical mind was in overdrive in an attempt to explain why she was suffering from palpitations and loss of breath - and loss of brain! Because Harry had kissed her? Harry? Kissing? What the hell? Oblivious to what lay ahead, she'd pulled Harry's head down so that they could kiss, that bloody spotlight on them, and hey, it was only her, and him - so what? Keep up the charade, Granger. So what-the-bloody-hell! The second Harry's lips had touched hers she'd felt as though she was melting - in places she'd rather not think about at the same time as she was thinking about Harry - just Harry, only Harry… who had reduced her to some sort of melted, mindless, delicious, wonderful nothingness just by kissing her!
They were walking very slowly, reluctant to arrive home and have to face each other while at the same time needing to think about what had just happened.
They snuck the occasional quick, surreptitious glance at each other, hoping the other wouldn't notice, both wondering hopelessly what the other was thinking.
Harry had just risked a sideways glance at Hermione - she of the soft, delicious lips - and realised that sometime in the last few years she'd fulfilled her promise and become an extremely intelligent, clever, brilliant witch…and she didn't look half bad either…
She didn't look half bad? What sort of thought was that?! Which stupid, unused part of his brain was he accessing now?
Suddenly, Harry stopped dead in his tracks, overcome by his own thoughts. Hermione had continued walking before realising he was no longer beside her. He watched as if it was in slow motion: Hermione walking on, finding himself thinking how great she looked in her tight jeans, how long her legs looked and how small her waist was, how her hair looked - she'd put it in a high ponytail which was swaying gently, catching the now meagre light. Then she stopped and turned, smiling quizzically at him, her head slightly tilted to one side, putting her hands on her hips as she looked back at him.
And that's when it happened. It wasn't even remotely romantic - it hit him with the explosive power of an "expelliarmus" and "stupefy" combined and he did in fact feel as though he had been the victim of both those spells. Because he found himself imagining kissing Hermione again - long and hard - wanting badly to kiss her long and hard. And he could imagine a lot more than that. Wanted to imagine a lot more than that?! Holy Mother of Merlin! What the hell was going on? How could he feel like that? How had it happened? He felt more confused than at just about any other time in his life. Then he realised Hermione was speaking to him.
`Hello? Harry? What's up?' she asked, for the second time (although he wasn't aware of that), wondering what on earth was wrong with him. Just as well Harry didn't tell her what was up.
`Oh, um, nothing, I just realised - I mean I just remembered - something,' he finished lamely, not having any idea of what he could say that may sound remotely "normal".
Hermione walked back to him and taking his hand, started tugging. `Come on, Harry! What's wrong?'
`Hermione, what was that, back there?'
Hermione looked very flustered. And wouldn't look at him. `What was what?' she asked shakily.
His finger under her chin brought Hermione's gaze to his and Harry's green eyes looked straight into hers. Hermione felt herself blush. She knew exactly what he meant - but she wasn't sure about it herself. It had been a huge shock to kiss "good old Harry" and find herself suddenly wanting to rip his clothes off and - well - she wasn't going there right now…it was hard enough dealing with the reality…
The damned reality that wasn't going away…
`Hermione, look at me.'
Harry didn't let go of her hand - she'd taken his, after all - and then his other hand found itself under her chin, tilting her head so that her reluctant gaze was forced to meet his. The sight of Hermione so unsure and so affected seemed to act on him as a spur - and he felt a surge of pure, masculine power. It was all rather heady and charged with such a force that, while a lovely, albeit confused, woman was looking at him so - so - helplessly! - he surrendered to instinct and kissed her again.
Which turned out to be an excellent move. Go Harry.
`Harry?'
`Yes, Hermione?'
`What's going on?'
`You don't know?'
`I - I don't think so!' Even Hermione could meet her match.
`Don't think, that's important. Just kiss me again.'
`That doesn't sound right…'
`On this, Hermione, you'll have to trust me.'
`Well, I always have before…'
`Don't stop now. Kiss me. P lease.'
So she did. And Harry discovered that kissing Hermione always produced that lovely, wonderful, magical force that was spreading throughout his whole body, lighting up even more unused nooks and crannies. And Hermione knew that her desire to rip his clothes off - that really naughty desire to rip his clothes off - was destined to eventually be fulfilled. Thank Merlin.
And did they live happily ever after? You bet your broomstick they did!
THE END
Author's Note
Written in an afternoon and NOT subjected to my usual obsessive compulsive revision procedures so please forgive any mistakes (of which I'm sure there are MANY!!)
Hope you enjoyed it and have a smile on your face as you finish.
xxxx Janie xxxx
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