SEVEN
Two weeks passed and things got much calmer for Hermione. She went back to her normal routine - home/work, work/home. Harry didn't come to visit since the day Eric showed up and Hermione was thankful for that.
She had been able to wind down and focus on herself, something she hadn't done in quite a while. Even though she still wasn't able to sleep through the night, she was more relaxed. Having a big bed for herself, being able to lie down and rest without having to struggle for the blankets or worry about someone creeping under her knickers was great. At least she felt less anxious, less stressed.
It was Friday evening and she was alone in the house. Ginny and Neville had gone out. They had invited her to come along, but she said no. "Three's a crowd," she said to them. Besides Ginny had told her that perhaps she'd be spending the night at Neville's. Hermione was really glad for the two of them. They looked great together.
Even when it had been almost three weeks since Hermione moved in with Ginny, she still hadn't finished unpacking. Most of her belongings were still boxed in a corner of the bedroom, accumulating dust.
Finally, that day Hermione decided it was time for her to officially make the bedroom hers. She opened the boxes and started taking out books, muggle and magic pictures, and a couple of her childhood's stuffed animals she still kept.
Soon after, Hermione turned on her muggle CD player. Music made her move and get things done quicker. She was listening at the music her parents used to listen when she was a kid - The Beatles. It brought her memories of those years. Hermione took out a muggle picture of her parents and a seven-year-old Hermione. She sighed longing for the times when she had been just a worry-free kid.
But then, she thought about it for a while. The truth was she hadn't exactly been a worry-free kid. In fact, she had had problems to deal with. She remembered being different from the other kids, not being able to make friends, feeling like she didn't belong.
"Why I am so different?" she remembered asking her mother.
"Do you know what it really means to be different?" her mother had replied. Hermione shook her head. "Being different means being special."
Hermione smiled as she recalled her mother's words. It hadn't been easy growing up feeling rejected by other kids, but thankfully for her everything changed once she received her acceptance letter from Hogwarts. That day she learned she wasn't alone. She wasn't the only different kid. There were more out there. There actually was a place she belonged to.
Hermione shook her head. Trying to get those thoughts out of her head, she turned up the volume. She grabbed some books and began placing them on a shelf. Her favorite song began playing. Immediately, her hips started moving to the rhythm, and before she knew it, she was singing along. She was enjoying the song so much, she didn't notice she had an audience. When the song ended, she was surprised by frenzy applause.
"I didn't know you could sing that well," said Harry smiling widely at her. "You should think about a career as singer."
Hermione felt her face blushing. "Ha, ha. Very funny Harry."
Harry walked into the room and looked around at the things Hermione added. "You're doing a great job." Then, he looked at a couple of boxes that were still full of books and at the already full shelf. "Looks like you don't have enough space for all of these."
Hermione smiled. "Yeah, I only took out the books I need more often, for work."
Harry took a book out of one of the boxes. "Are you trying to compete with the library at Hogwarts? If you keep getting books at this pace, I'm sure you'll have enough to fill out two libraries in no time."
Hermione slap him playfully in the arm. Then, she remembered something. "Hey! How did you get in?" she asked, looking questioningly at him.
"Oh!" He passed a hand through his messy hair. "Well, I rang the bell. I even knocked a couple times, but I also could hear your music all the way out. I was sure you were never going to hear me. So I decided to apparate in."
"Don't you know it's illegal to apparate inside someone's house without permission?" she said teasingly. "You could get in trouble for that."
Harry stared at her and raised his eyebrows. "Are you going to tell on me, Ms. law-abiding?" he said teasingly. She smiled at him. "I'm sure you're going to send the Enforcement Squad after me, aren't you?"
"If you don't behave yourself…" she said.
Moving some of her things to the side, he sat down on the bed. Hermione turned the music off.
"Why are you all alone? Where's Ginny?" he said playing with one of her teddy bears.
"She went out with Neville." She passed a hand through her sweaty forehead and looked closely at him. He was wearing a pair of black trousers and a nice green shirt that made the color of his eyes stand out. "Why are you all dressed up?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I came to see if you wanted to go out and have dinner with me," he said looking directly at her eyes. Hermione held his gaze for a while, then looked away.
"Go out?" she repeated.
"Yeah, I know this great place... I'm sure you're going to like it." He stood up and walked to her. "C'mon, say yes."
Hermione sighed. "Okay," she finally said. Then looking down at herself - she was wearing baggy sweatpants and a tank top, which was drenched with sweat - she added, "But I first need to shower."
"Thank Merlin you said that!" he said mockingly. "I was afraid I was going to have to drag your butt to the shower."
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Keep this up and I may call for the Enforcement Squad after all." She turned him around and began pushing him out of the bedroom. "Now, go to the living room and entertain yourself while I get ready."
"Okay, okay," he said dragging his feet to the door. "Just don't take too long or I may fall asleep in the couch."
--- * --- * --- * ---
Fifteen minutes later, Hermione came out of the shower. Wrapped in a towel, she headed to her wardrobe and opened its doors trying to choose what to wear. Harry was very nicely dressed, she remembered. She needed to find something that would go accordingly.
After a few minutes of pondering, she pulled out a gray pleated skirt and a fitted black cashmere sweater. Then, she took out a pair of black leggings. Trying to cover the black lines under her eyes, which were slowly fading away, she added a little make-up and let her hair down. Finally, she grabbed her cloak and walked out of her bedroom and towards the living room.
Harry smiled as he saw her walking in, pleased at the sight. Resting on one of the chairs was a black leather jacket he had dropped on his way to Hermione's room after he apparated in.
"You may want to leave your cloak behind," he said, pointing at the garment in her arms. "We're going to a muggle restaurant."
"Oh!" she said. "Let me grab a coat, then."
She turned on her heels and went back to her room. Five minutes later, she came back with a black waist-long coat. Harry offered his arm to her, which she took quickly.
Outside the house, parked in the driveway, was a sporty black jeep. Harry led her to it and opened a door for her. Hermione looked curiously at him.
"I didn't know you owned a car," she said after they were both inside it. "I didn't even know you could drive."
He smiled at her as he started driving away. "Well, I got this a couple of years ago. I find it quite useful." He turned to see her for a couple of seconds to then focus back on the road. "I enjoy driving, you know. Of course I'd never change my broomstick for a car, but it's good to have them both. Besides when I go into Muggle London…" he took another look at her. "I can't apparate around."
Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the restaurant. Harry had been right. I was a nice quiet place, with tables available both inside and outside in an open patio. Since the night was a little chilly they opted to dine inside.
The restaurant was dimly lighted. Each table had a set of two lighted candles on top, giving the place a very romantic atmosphere. Soft music could be heard in the background, though there wasn't a live band playing.
Harry and Hermione were taken to a table towards the back. They ordered a couple of drinks while they waited for their food. Harry took a sip at his glass, his eyes fixed on her, then placed it back on the table.
"When are Ron and Luna coming back?" he said looking for a way to break the awkward silence. "Is it tomorrow or Sunday?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley should be back Sunday afternoon," she informed him, a big smile on her face, thinking about her two friends.
"Brilliant! They'll be in time for your birthday," he said beaming at her.
"Yeah," she replied. "Ginny is expecting them for dinner that night. You're welcome to come. The twins and their girls are coming, too."
Harry's face illuminated with a smile. He was really glad to see all of their friends were happily paired. He wished he'd soon be as lucky as there were.
"It's great they all have their significant other," he said looking into her brown eyes. He broke the gaze, then added, "I just haven't spent a lot of time with Alicia and Angelina lately."
"They're very nice, as always." Hermione smiled remembering that night at Ginny's - their improvised bachelorette party. "Alicia can be a bit of a bad influence sometimes, though," she said, smiling coyly.
Harry looked curiously at her. "What do you mean?"
As their food arrived, she started telling him what they had been up to that night and the drink Alicia had prepared for them.
"Frozen... margaritas, uh?" said Harry teasingly. "Are they good?"
"They are, actually," she responded while nodding her head. "You should try them sometime. Next time you see Alicia, make sure you ask her for the recipe."
Harry asked a few more question about that night. He seemed quite amused at the idea of the drunk girls. They both laughed as Hermione told him about Luna's table-top-dancing abilities.
"What about you?" Harry asked teasingly. "Did you dance on top of the table too?"
"No, I didn't," she said. She placed a finger on her lips and bit her nail for a few seconds, looking up at the ceiling. "At least, I don't recall it."
Harry laughed again, making Hermione's heart swell. She hadn't heard him laugh like that in such a long time. That sound was music to her ears. She couldn't understand how she had been able to live all these years without it.
The rest of the evening went by pleasantly. Harry started talking to her about Quidditch. Hermione's thing had never been sports, but she knew how things were going on with the Chuddley Cannons. It wasn't due to a recently acquired interest. It was because of him.
Nobody knew it, but Hermione had actually gone to a few of his matches, always trying to find a seat where Harry couldn't spot her, but where she could see him well. When the need to see him was more than she could take, Hermione had escaped to the Quidditch matches by herself. She, however, was not ready to tell Harry this. Eventually, their talked moved to other topics.
"So, what are you going to do with those boxes you still have full of books?" he asked remembering there wasn't enough space on her room for them. "I didn't know you had so many books."
Hermione pushed her plate away and looked up at him. "Yeah, I can't help it, you know," she said shrugging her shoulders. "Over the years I've come across some wonderful books I just had to have. I reckon I may have to shrink them so they can fit in my room and only bring them back to normal size when I need them."
Pushing his plate aside as well, Harry stared at her for a while. He seemed about to say something, but it took him a while to actually say it aloud.
"Well, I have an idea," he said brining his glass up to his mouth. He took a slow sip and looked at her. "There's this room in my place the former owners used as a library. They actually left behind a couple of empty shelves." He placed his glass back on the table. "That room's been empty since I bought the house. The shelves are just waiting for books to occupy them."
Hermione smiled at him. She could guess what he was about to offer. Just the thought alone was enough to make her smile warmly, feeling butterflies in her stomach. Since her stomach was full, she reckoned it was not out of hunger.
"I'd be honored to host your library. It's a nice quiet room where you could store your books in a normal-size state," he said. "You could apparate in there whenever you need."
"That's really nice of you, Harry…" she said, playing with her napkin carefully not meeting his green eyes. "But I couldn't accept that. I can't just apparate in and out of your house like that. You know me… When I need to look something up I don't give up until I find it... and for that I sometimes need to through all my books."
"You think I don't know that," he said, smiling at her. "I'm sure your reading and researching habits haven't changed that much these past years. If you're worried about bothering me, then forget about it. My bedroom is in the second floor on the opposite side of where the library is located, so even if you apparate at 2 in the morning, which I'm sure you will, you won't bother me at all."
"And what if you're…" Hermione was about to say "with someone else" when Harry interrupted her.
"Don't worry about anything, okay?" He stretched a hand over the table and placed it over hers. "You'll hurt my feelings if you say no."
Harry looked deep into her eyes. His penetrating gaze making her blush. Hermione hoped the dim light would help to hide the change of color in her face. The feel of his warm hand over hers was making it hard for Hermione to articulate words.
She stared at his long fingers covering hers. His hands were big, calloused and strong. The hands of a Quidditch player. The hands of a man. Harry noticed she was deep in thought and wondered was she was thinking about.
He was going through a similar agony as hers. He wanted to transmit to her through his touch all the feelings that invaded him, feelings he had been holding back for years. He gladly would have slipped his hand up her arm, through her neck all the way up to her mouth, and caress with his fingers those lips he had tasted only once.
He clearly remembered the soft kiss she had placed on his lips that night at St. Mungo's, which to his taste had been way too short. He could only imagine what it would be like to lick her tender lips, to take in the sweetness of her mouth, to feel the velvet of her tongue.
Hermione looked up at him, intrigued by the look of his face. She couldn't tell what it was she was seeing in his eyes. She was only sure of one thing, he had never looked at her like that.
Realizing he was staring at her, he cleared his throat. Slowly, he retrieved his hand and took a sip of his drink trying to remember what they had been talking about.
"So…" he said once he remembered. "What do you say you have lunch at my place tomorrow, and after that we can spend the afternoon setting up your library."
"Okay," she said softly.
"Alright then," he said. "I'll pick you up at 11."