EIGHT
The next morning at exactly eleven o'clock, as he had said, Harry arrived at Ginny and Hermione's place. Ginny was out. With Luna out of the country, she was in charge at the Quibbler and had to check on things, even on Saturdays.
Hermione was already waiting for him. She had put on her favourite pair of blue jeans, whose color was beginning to fade, a pink halter-top under a white cotton hoodie, and tied her hair in a ponytail. She was ready to spend the day at Harry's.
"You ready?" Harry asked once she opened the front door for him. "Let me get those!" He walked over to where the boxes waited in a corner. Hermione had levitated them out of her room before Harry's arrival.
Minutes later, they were on their way to Harry's house. Thanks to his handsome pay as a Quidditch player, he had been able to buy a nice house in a small muggle town outside London. Harry had purposely looked for an isolated place, as far from the wizarding world as possible, with enough open space to make good use of his broomstick.
He had found an old manor that was being sold by a muggle agency. He immediately fell in love with the cozy home-like feeling the house had and the extent of land surrounding it. Few changes had been made to the house since he moved in. It was a two-story building, with wooden floors, wide windows and spacious rooms. Bright coloured flowers drew the path to the front porch. To the back of the house, there was an apple orchard, a few yards away from the house.
After an hour drive, they arrived at the manor. Harry parked his jeep right at the entrance. Hermione got off the car, admiring the place.
"Harry, this is a very nice place!" she said in awe.
Harry smiled at her. "Thanks," he said shyly. He took the two big boxes out of the car and motioned Hermione to the wooden door. "Mi casa es su casa."
She chuckled at that. Minutes later, when the two boxes had been magically transported inside the house, Hermione was given the five-knut tour of the house. For some reason - perhaps because it was lunchtime - it ended in the kitchen.
"I say we should eat first," said Harry as his stomach started making loud noises. "I didn't have breakfast this morning."
"Why not?" she asked.
"Well, I kind of slept in," he said while taking things out to prepare a couple of sandwiches. "I forgot to set my alarm clock, so I barely had enough time to shower and drive to London."
Hermione walked over to where he was standing and helped him prepare lunch. Almost an hour later, with their stomachs pleasantly full, they headed to the library. The room was way better than how Harry had described it to her the night before.
French doors welcomed them into a big spacious room. Two of its walls were lined with shelves. The wall facing the back of the house had a wide bay window, which started at Hermione's knee height and went all the way to just a foot below the ceiling. Soft fluffy cushions covered the seat at the base of the window.
A pair of comfy looking couches stood opposite to the shelves. A handsome oak desk with a matching upholstered chair occupied the back of the room. Besides the light coming in from the wide window, a crystal chandelier that hung for the ceiling provided plenty of illumination.
"This is great!" she said looking around at the place. Then, she walked to the window, which was wide open. She inhaled deeply. The breeze brought in the smells of the orchard.
Harry stared at her, pleased to see she liked the place. His eyes then settled on her brown curls. The breeze was playing with them, making them fly. Hermione felt his gaze on her and turned to look at him. His green eyes were pulling her towards him like a magnet. Reluctantly, she broke his gaze and turned away from Harry.
"Let's get started then."
She went to the boxes and started taking books out. She could still feel his eyes focused on her for a few seconds, but did her best to ignore it. Finally, he came out of his daydream and went to help her out.
--- * --- * --- * ---
The afternoon went by quicker than they expected. It took them a little more than four hours to arrange the books in the shelves because Hermione had a precise place for each one of them. She had to keep them categorized alphabetically by author and topic.
Harry was sure she didn't need to do that because she could tell which book was which just by looking at the cover. Still, he cooperated and did things exactly the way she asked him.
When the library was finally ready, they both sat down at the window and looked at their work. Hermione sighed happily, knowing her books were nicely arranged in a place meant to be a library.
Harry turned his face to look outside the window. The sky had been cloudy most of the day, but daylight still illuminated outside.
"Hey," he said looking at her, an idea suddenly in his mind. "Would you like to take a walk?"
"Sure," she replied, getting up and grabbing her hoodie from one of the couches. She had removed it earlier, geeting hot with all the work.
Minutes later, they were walking out towards the orchard, the smell of apples filling their minds. They walked quietly for a while, content enough just by having the other's company. It begun to get darker, not only because the sunset was approaching but also due to heavy, black clouds obscured the sky. Neither of them seemed to notice or even care.
"I see why you like it out here," said Hermione breathing deeply. "It's so quiet and peaceful!"
Looking around at his land, Harry nodded. "Yeah, it is. In fact, I never lock my front door." Hermione looked questioningly at him. "There's no need! Nobody ever comes around here."
"How long have you had this place?"
Letting out a sigh, he responded. "Two years!"
Hermione looked up at the trees wondering what many other things had happened to Harry during the last years that she didn't know about. They had left the orchard behind a while ago, but they still didn't seem to be ready to head back to the house. A loud thunder broke the silence, but they ignored it.
"Hermione," said Harry softly. "Are you sleeping better now?"
Hermione understood that Harry meant to say, "now that Eric's gone." She stopped and looked at her hands. "My sleep problems have nothing to do with Eric."
Harry stopped as well, a couple steps away from her. Looking curiously at her, he asked, "What does it has to do with, then?"
Hermione looked up at him. She could have said "you", but there was no need for it. Harry could read it in her face, in her eyes. That knowledge hurt him and made him feel guilty.
"I'm a bloody idiot!" he thought. "I pushed her away from me trying to keep her safe and all I did was hurt her even more."
He looked at her face. She wasn't wearing any make-up and he could see the dark circles under her eyes were fading.
"At least the lines under your eyes are disappearing," he said getting closer to her. He placed a hand on her cold cheek and caressed it with his thumb. "But not even that could make you face look less beautiful."
Hermione closed her eyes under his touch. She sensed him getting even closer to her. Her heart began pounding so loud, it echoed in her ears. She knew he was about to kiss her and her whole body was begging for him to do it.
Just then a thick raindrop fell on her face. She squinted her eyes and looked up. Within seconds, heavy rain began to fall. Harry grabbed her hand. "C'mon. We'll have to run."
They had only run a few yards when the rain started falling even harder. In matters of seconds, they were soaked. Realizing the still were a long way from the house, and knowing there were no curious eyes around, Harry suddenly stopped.
"We'd better apparate to the house," he said as more thunder was heard.
Seconds later, they were standing in Harry's kitchen drenched from head to toes. Removing their muddy shoes, Harry cast a drying spell on both of them. Still, the coldness of the water left them shivering.
As if conjured by his mind, a handsome fire started crackling in the fireplace of the drawing room, right next to the kitchen. Placing an arm over Hermione's shoulders, Harry led her to a couch in front of the fire and made her sit.
"I'm going to make us some tea," he said and quickly went back to the kitchen.
Hermione sat still, staring at the fire. Minutes later, Harry came back with two steaming cups on his hands. He handed her one and placed the other on the mantelpiece. He grabbed a throw, which rested on the couch, and wrapped Hermione with it. He then got his tea back.
"You're shaking," he said.
He sat next to her and placed one arm around her shoulders, enveloping her with his warmth. Hermione took a couple sips at her tea. The feeling of the warm liquid brought back to her the ability to move. She turned her face to look at him. Harry was staring at her with so much love in his eyes it made her blush.
Being in his arms, lost in the green of his eyes, was all she ever could ask for. She could feel the warmth of his body even through the blanket covering her. She wished she could freeze time and remain like that, involved by him, until the end of times.
The chime of an old clock brought her back to reality. "I need to get home," she said, getting up.
Harry got up as well, placing his cup on the side table. "We're gonna have to wait until the storm ends. It's not safe to drive in this condition," he said pointing at the window.
"I could just apparate home," said Hermione even when she knew it wasn't safe either with such a strong storm.
She had barely finished her sentence when an even stronger thunder was heard. Right after that, the lights in the house went off. The room was only illuminated by the fire.
"I reckon you're gonna have to wait." He walked to a wooden cabinet standing at the side of the room and grabbed a silver candleholder and, with a wave of his wand, lighted it up.
He went to the kitchen and did the same thing. The light of the candles gave the room a very soothing feeling. Hermione followed him, her teacup still in her hands. Hearing her footsteps approaching, Harry turned to face her.
"We should fix some dinner," he said walking to the cabinets and looking through them, checking to see what they could prepare. "How about pasta?"
"Sounds good." She took the last sip at her tea and went to leave the empty cup at the sink. After that, she and Harry got busy cooking dinner the muggle way.
--- * --- * --- * ---
As the hours passed, the storm got strong. Rain was pouring heavily. From time to time, thunder would break the silence. Outside, the darkness was only interrupted by lighting.
Harry and Hermione were standing by the window in the living room, looking out at the storm. They had finished dinner long ago.
"Well," said Harry looking at her. "I reckon you're gonna have to spend the night here."
Hermione was a little resistant at the idea, but she knew she had no other choice. Without looking at him, she nodded.
"Come," he said grabbing her by the elbow. "I'm sure I can find something for you to sleep in, more comfortable than those jeans."
They went upstairs and headed to his bedroom, which was located at the end of the hallway. His was the biggest bedroom. Harry got inside his walk-in closet to the side of the room, giving Hermione the chance to admire the place freely.
A sliding door to the opposite side opened up to a little balcony where two wicker chairs stood. A wooden four-poster, quite bigger than the one he used to have at Hogwarts but still somehow similar - only without the red curtains - stood at the center of the room.
Hermione could have sworn that his scent was penetrated in every space of the room. She closed her eyes to inhale it, but quickly opened them when she heard Harry coming back.
"I'm sure this'll do fine," he said holding out a pair of his boxers and a Quidditch t-shirt.
Hermione looked at the garments and smiled. "I'm sure it will." He smiled back at her. "Uh… where can I change?"
"Oh! Right," he said. "Follow me."
He led her back to the hallway to a bedroom two doors away from his room - the one in the middle was actually a linen closet. Both the room and the bed were smaller than his, though the bed could still hold two people perfectly well. There was no walk-in closet or balcony on this one, just a private bathroom to a side.
"You can sleep here," he said lighting the candles on top of a wooden dresser. "If you need anything, I'll be down the hall."
"Thanks," she said.
He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. She went to the bed and sat at the edge. It felt quite soft. She looked at Harry's clothes still on her hands. Instinctively, she brought them up to her nose. His wonderful scent invaded her senses. "Oh my!" she said.
Quickly, she stood up taking her clothes off and tossing them carelessly at a chair next to the bed and replaced them with Harry's boxers and t-shirt, which was a little bigger for her, but it didn't matter. She embraced herself and got on the bed. Curling her body into a fetal position, she closed her eyes and let his scent take over her.
--- * --- * --- * ---
Two hours later, the loud thunder woke Hermione up. It took her a few seconds to remember she was in Harry's place, wearing his clothes. She looked at her wristwatch. It was barely passed 1 in the morning. She sat up and brought her knees up to her chest.
She realized her birthday had started one hour ago. She was now 24 years old. The events of the day started replaying in her mind. Hermione was really excited about "her" library. The fact of it being inside Harry's house still made her feel uneasy, though.
A stronger crash of thunder was heard, making her jump instinctively. After that sound faded, the silence was broken again, this time by a soft knock on the door. Without waiting for a response, the door opened just enough to let Harry's head come into view.
Seeing that she was awake and decent, he walked in, barefoot and wearing only his pajama bottoms. In one of his arms rested a blanket.
"I reckoned you'd be awake," he said as he got in.
Hermione looked at him unable to speak. The candles of the room had long been turned off. The room was barely illuminated by the little light that came through the window - the curtains were still open.
For a few minutes, they just looked at each other silently. Even when it was dark, Hermione could feel his gaze on her. She could almost see the green of his eyes. Then again, she could have seen it even with her eyes closed.
Breaking the awkward silence, he finally spoke. "I… I brought you this," he said presenting her the blanket. Then pointing at the bed, he added, "That quilt is not warm enough." He walked to the bed, unfolded the blanket and placed it over the bed.
Hermione remained silent.
"I also wanted to be the first one to wish you happy birthday." She smiled. "Alright then…" he said, not sure what to make of her silence. "I should let you… try to sleep." But he didn't move.
Just when he was about to turn around and walk out, she held her hand out to him. Harry walked to her and took it in his. Without saying a word, she pulled at his hand, making him crawl onto the bed.
Harry kneeled next to her, her hand still in his. Unconsciously, he placed his free arm over her shoulders, bringing her to him. Hermione closed her eyes. If she had been drowning in his scent by just wearing his clothes, it was nothing compared to having his strong arms and his firm chest pressed up against her.
Gently, Harry grabbed hold of her shoulders and made her lie down. With her back flat of the bed, one of his arms under her neck and the other over her stomach, she remained still for a while. Then, without opening her eyes, she rolled to her side, giving her back to him, and moved all the way back until their bodies were pressed against each other.
Harry pulled the blankets over them and placed his arm over her waist. The sensation of that moment was so intense, Hermione felt the need to tell him four words she had been dying to tell him since the day of their broom ride.
"I missed you too," she said in a whisper.
Harry smiled, but said nothing, not wanting to ruin the moment. He just got as close to her as he could and buried his face on her hair, getting lost in her scent as well.
Every muscle of her body was completely relaxed. Minutes later and for the first time and many years, Hermione fell peacefully asleep.