Author's Note
Please read and enjoy - this is just a big dollop of fun and fluff!
And just in case: URST = UnResolved Sexual Tension. RST? Well, that's pretty obvious, isn't it? *Janie grins*
And as always, a million thanks to my dear cyber-friend, Kirsti!
URST
By JanieB
Chapter One
This little story is set in London…our beloved trio left Hogwarts behind them four years previously (and Harry left Voldemort's smoking remains behind around about the same time). It's summertime in old London town and the trio are on the move…
Hermione flopped onto her bed and sighed.
And wondered how she could be so stupid when she was so clever.
In the room down the hall, Harry groaned as he fell onto his bed.
And wondered how he could be so blind when it was really so bloody obvious.
And while Hermione was sighing and Harry was groaning, Ron was walking out of the front door of their shared house, rolling his eyes in total disgust. As far as he was concerned, both of his best friends were complete and utter prats!
As he walked along, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, Ron shook his head in total exasperation. The three of them had only moved in together a mere month ago, each of them having followed various career paths since leaving Hogwarts - career paths that now, fortuitously (or so they'd thought) brought them all together once more. Ron, for one, was currently all for bailing out.
Bloody prats! he thought. They're driving ME crazy as well as themselves and they just won't bloody well wake up! Honestly! You'd never know Hermione had done better in her NEWTs than any other witch or wizard in the history of Hogwarts (Little Miss "Me? Books and cleverness? Oh poo!"). Ron snorted. And as if THAT wasn't bad enough, on the other hand he had Harry-saviour-of-the-whole-bloody-world-Potter who you would THINK, considering he'd had witches from six to sixty either trying to get his autograph or get his pants off, or both, he would recognise, would KNOW, when he was attracted to a girl. But nope, Hermione was too clever and Harry was too blind. Yep, prats, the pair of them.
The whole bloody charade had begun the day they'd all moved in together, one month previously…
`Ron! Which rooms are we each having?'
`Dunno! I'm not fussed - just pick one, Hermione!' Ron was carrying a stack of packed cardboard boxes and couldn't see a bloody thing as he staggered in the front door of Whimsy House, 3c, Leprechaun Lane, newly acquired by Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter.
`Harry! Which room do you want?'
Harry's muffled voice echoed down the stairwell from the second floor. `I don't really mind, Hermione. You choose first, you're the girl.'
`Sexist wizard!'
Harry came out to the landing and looked down at Hermione as she was walking up the stairs to begin her inspection of the four bedrooms, Crookshanks at her heels. Hedwig and Pig were both on perches in the kitchen, Hedwig watching all the activity with dignity, occasionally glancing at Pig with undisguised scorn as he ran incessantly up and down his perch.
`I'm being nice, you ungrateful witch!' laughed Harry.
Hermione playfully poked her tongue out at him before ducking into one of the two bedrooms on the first floor.
Ron staggered up the stairs to the first floor and took the first door on the left walking straight into Hermione who was surveying the room with a critical eye.
`Ouch! Ron!'
Ron peeked around his stack of boxes and grinned at Hermione.
`This is my room!' he called out. `I can't carry these damn boxes any further!'
He laughed as he put the boxes on the floor and turned to see Hermione's "well, what do you have to say for yourself?" expression.
Ron ran his fingers through his rather messy, red mop. `Sorry, Hermione - I didn't see you!'
Looking slightly mollified, Hermione emerged from the front bedroom of the first floor - now officially Ron's room - and quickly skipped up the stairs to the second floor, walking past Harry who was still standing on the landing, and into the front bedroom.
`This is mine!' she cried almost immediately, eyeing the beautiful bay window overlooking the tree-lined street and the park in the middle of the square. While it was directly above Ron's room, it was a little longer than his and after closer inspection, she noticed it also had an en-suite. She opened the door and peered in, delighted by the sparkling white cleanliness. She noticed a door on the other side and walked over to look, expecting it was probably a cupboard.
As she pulled the door opened she jumped back, letting out an almighty squeal as she did so.
Harry was standing there, his hand out, obviously just about to open the door himself. He chuckled as Hermione squealed and crossed his arms as he leant against the door jamb, waggling his eyebrows at her, grinning.
`Harry! You frightened the living daylights out of me!' Hermione stood, hands on hips, frowning ferociously at Harry.
`Totally unintentional, I can assure you,' he told her, thinking how cute she looked while trying to be angry at him. Being angry at him had never been one of her strong points.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione stepped forward and resting her right hand on Harry's shoulder and her left on the side of the doorway, tried to lean through the small gap and look into the other room. Harry looked down at Hermione's hand resting on his shoulder; he could feel the warmth of it through his t-shirt. It was a very nice hand - slender fingers, pretty nails that were well cared for, but not too long; he fleetingly wondered why on earth he was suddenly noticing Hermione's hand.
`Mine,' said Harry, not moving, still looking at her hand. As Hermione turned her head to look up at him, he lifted his eyes from her hand to her face. A face he'd known for almost half his life, framed with the same thick, brown hair which today she had twisted up and caught in a large clip. He could see she wore no make up - not that she needed it, he thought musingly; her cheeks were flushed from the summer heat and exertion; this close, he could see her eyes held many shades of brown and gold. For the first time he noticed she had thick, almost black, eyelashes and finely shaped eyebrows. His eyes dropped to her mouth - now curved with a mischievous smile.
`Really? You're prepared to share a bathroom with a girl?'
`As long you're prepared to share it with a boy,' Harry replied, grinning.
Hermione's smile faltered and for the space of a heartbeat their eyes locked. Not a boy. A man.
Hermione's hand suddenly leapt from Harry's shoulder and she giggled, turning sideways, her back to Harry, and slipped past him and into the room he'd claimed for his own.
`A double bed?' remarked Hermione, surprised.
`After that bloody cupboard under the stairs and the smallest bedroom with the smallest bed in the house I like space,' replied Harry with feeling.
It was a little bigger than the front room Hermione had chosen and as she walked to the large windows overlooking the back garden she thought perhaps Harry may've gotten the pick of the bunch. When she spoke this thought aloud, Harry agreed. `Except for the bathroom-sharing thing,' he said with a chuckle.
`Nonsense! I'm not one of those women who hog the bathroom for hours on end!'
Harry, still standing in the en-suite doorway but having turned, now faced into his room; he held his hands up defensively in front of himself, a look of mock terror on his face.
`Far be it from me to accuse you of such a horrendous thing!' he cried.
Hermione huffed, but smiled.
`We should probably work out a schedule now,' she said thoughtfully.
Harry rolled his eyes. Trust Miss Efficiency…
`Later, Hermione, after all it's only Saturday - we have the whole weekend.'
Ron appeared in the doorway. `This yours?' he asked, looking at Harry.
`Yep,' replied Harry. `Comes with a bathroom-hogging witch as well, I believe.'
`Harry!'
`Sorry - with a non-bathroom hogging and very efficient scheduling witch,' amended Harry, chuckling at the indignant look on Hermione's face.
Ron grinned at Hermione. `I wonder which one of you is going to regret this first.'
`You sound as though you can't wait for something to go wrong,' said Hermione, crossing her arms.
Ron shrugged and winked at her. `It's only a matter of time,' he said smugly.
`Come on,' said Harry. `Let's get the rest of the stuff inside. And Ron - find your wand so you won't have to actually carry anything!'
`Hear, hear!' cried Hermione. `He's dangerous with boxes!'
Ron laughed as he turned and headed down the stairs, Harry and Hermione right behind him. `I'll just borrow Hermione's.'
`You will not!' cried Hermione, stopping on the first floor landing. `Don't you dare touch my wand, Ronald Bilius Weasley or -'
`I was kidding, Hermione! Mercy!' cried Ron as he clattered down the final flight of stairs, Harry on his heels, Hermione still on the landing.
`Shut it, you two, and move it - I'm hungry.'
`That's usually my line, Harry. Come on, Hermione - you've got more stuff than Harry and I put together!'
Hermione resumed her journey down the stairs. `You know very well, Ron, that most of my "stuff" is made up of books!'
`Yeah, about the same number of books as there are in the library at Hogwarts! Madam Pince'd be downright jealous.'
Ron fortunately found his wand; it was down behind the front seat of his car. `I don't want to know how it got there, thank you very much,' said Hermione tartly when a dreamy smile crossed Ron's face and he murmured something along the lines of, `Last night…Luna…'
Between the three of them, it took less than an hour for each of their new rooms to be ready for them to sleep in, although they each still had quite a few unpacked boxes stacked along their bedroom walls. Crookshanks was happily ensconced in his basket in Hermione's room.
In unspoken agreement, Ron and Harry let Hermione "organise" the kitchen at the same time as she supervised the positioning of the furniture.
The ground floor of their flat consisted of a large sitting room that overlooked the street and directly behind that was a newly fitted-out kitchen; a large square island bench separated the kitchen from a good sized dining area, both of which looked out over the back garden. The rest of the floor held, besides a loo, small bathroom and a laundry, a small room which for the time being held the remainder of their unpacked boxes.
`There!' said Hermione happily as the last plate settled itself on the shelf.
`Good! Now we can eat!' cried Ron.
A loud `Yoo hoo!' followed by the tapping of high heels on the tiled floor, preceded Ginny into the kitchen.
`Hi, Gin! In the kitchen,' called Ron. `Knew she couldn't resist coming and checking out our new place,' he told Harry and Hermione, grinning.
As she walked in, Ginny looked around, hugging each of them hello. `It's just gorgeous!' Pig was twittering excitedly - he'd always been partial to Ginny.
`I'll put the kettle on,' said Hermione, `have a seat.'
Ron groaned as he, Harry and Ginny sat at their new, square table.
`We need food here, not tea!'
`Tea first, then food,' said Hermione firmly. `I'll make some sandwiches.'
Harry jumped up. `I'll help - I can do sandwiches.'
Once they each had a steaming cup of tea, Hermione helped Harry to finish making the sandwiches. Then, reaching up for a plate from the shelf, she realised she wasn't quite tall enough as the tips of her fingers touched, but couldn't grasp the plate. Harry stepped up behind her and as he reached up he became aware of a fresh, clean fragrance. Without thinking, he dipped his head slightly so that his nose touched Hermione's hair and took a deep breath. `Mmmm, you smell nice,' he said quietly.
Hermione turned her head and looked up at him as he pulled the plate from the shelf.
Hermione smiled. `My shampoo smells nice, you mean,' she told him, taking the plate from Harry, then stood there, trapped between the bench and Harry.
Harry, feeling a little bewildered as to why exactly he'd been smelling Hermione's hair, stood there, looking down at her.
`Harry?'
Harry shook his head. `Sorry,' he muttered, as he stepped back, watching Hermione as she walked back to the bench and began piling sandwiches on the plate. Then, putting thoughts of Hermione's hair aside, he quickly joined her and began to help.
That little moment hadn't gone unnoticed by Ginny and Ron who had exchanged quizzical looks before shrugging it off as Harry headed for the table with the now laden plate of sandwiches.
Ginny, as it turned out, was the first of a constant stream of visitors who came to wish the trio well in their new home, mostly their old friends and fellow Gryffindors from Hogwarts and of course, Luna.
In the end, they invited everyone for dinner that evening, Harry designating himself chef-for-the-night.
`Going for brownie points, mate?' remarked Ron on one of his trips to the fridge to top up drinks.
Harry looked up from chopping vegetables, puzzled. `Who with?'
`Hermione, of course!' Ron opened the fridge and peered in, looking for the open bottle of wine.
`Why would I be trying to score points with Hermione?' Harry resumed chopping.
`Dunno, really. Not that you need to. I'm the one that should be trying to score points. She never gets annoyed with you.'
Harry stopped chopping again and looked at Ron who was now pouring wine into some glasses. `That's not true,' he said.
Ron glanced up his friend. `Yeah, it is. When does she ever get annoyed with you?'
`Well, for instance, this morning, when I gave her a fright...'
`Ha!' cried Ron sceptically. `What'd she do?'
`She stood there frowning at me -'
`She stood there frowning at you?' Ron scoffed. `She didn't yell at you or call you by your full name or threaten to hex you?
`Well, no, not exactly -' Harry's brow furrowed in thought. She'd rolled her eyes and then seemed to just forget it.
`Told you so!' cried Ron triumphantly. `She doesn't get angry with you Harry, or annoyed - not really, not ever. With me - I just have to mostly open my mouth and I'm in strife.'
Harry stood stock still and as a myriad of situations flickered through his memory he realised Ron was right. He couldn't remember Hermione being truly annoyed or angry with him since they'd left school - and even back then, she'd virtually always told him why she was angry and then forgiven him with her next breath. He'd never wondered why although he did so now.
Hermione chose that moment to come into the kitchen bearing an empty plate, stopping when she caught sight of Harry making like a statue.
`Harry? Are you all right?'
Harry turned and looked at Hermione.
`Yeah…' was all he managed, thinking how great Hermione looked in black, hip-hugging pants and an aqua halter neck top that clung to every curve. Hermione's got a great figure - she's got lovely - oh crap! What in the name of Merlin am I doing thinking about Hermione's -
`He's just realised you never get angry and yell at him,' said Ron, interrupting Harry's line of thought, smirking as he replaced the wine bottle in the fridge.
`Ronald Weasley! How can you say such a thing?! Of course I get angry with Harry! Honestly!'
Ron looked at Harry and rolled his eyes, his expression plainly conveying, "See? What did I tell you?"
Hermione put the plate on the sink and throwing a fierce glare at Ron over her shoulder, walked out, Harry's eyes fixed on her retreating form. Her very shapely retreating form…
Ron put the drinks he'd prepared on a tray and followed Hermione, telling Harry, `She definitely has a soft spot for you, Harry my man; always has had.'
Harry stood, deep in thought, and still hadn't moved when he felt a hand on his arm, causing him to jump. It was Hermione.
`Harry?'
He turned his head and looked blankly at her, the wheels still slowly turning in his head although he wasn't sure precisely which wheels or where they were leading him.
`Hmm?'
`Don't worry about Ron - I do get angry with you, but you're different from Ron. More sensible perhaps. Ron seems to rub me up the wrong way so easily although I'm sure he doesn't mean to. I'm pretty sure I can annoy the hell out of him, too, though. I'll try hard to bite my tongue with Ron from now on because I want us to be able to live together here - it really should be great.'
Harry smiled at her, putting down the knife he'd been using. Then he reached out and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her to him in a hug, feeling Hermione's arms close around his waist. He turned his head sideways and rested his cheek on her hair, closing his eyes as he once again drank in the clean, fresh smell.
When Hermione pulled back, Harry lifted his head and looked down at her, smiling as he loosened his hold on her.
`Harry? What?' Hermione was giving him a very puzzled look.
Lifting one hand, Harry lightly touched the end of her nose with the tip of his forefinger, then slipped his whole hand to the side of her face, pushing it through her hair which she'd brushed out for the party. Reaching the nape of her neck, he curled his fingers around its softness, his thumb gently rubbing the smooth skin beneath her hair, and smiled at her.
`Hermione, you're wonderful just the way you are. I don't know what I'd do without you. I don't think the three of us are going to have any real hassles living together.'
Hermione laughed, releasing the tension she'd suddenly felt which had been caused by Harry's seemingly nonchalant caress. She was sure he'd never touched her like that before and it was a little unsettling. Or perhaps he had, but she'd never noticed before. She mentally shook her head. No more wine for me tonight, she thought. It's messing with my mind and imagination!
Harry's delicious casserole - `Blame Ainsley!' he told everyone (referring to the popular British television chef, Ainsley Harriot) - was very well received which was, as Ron told him, either because they were starving-bloody-hungry or just extremely polite.
Hermione, having just begun her "be-nice-to-Ron" campaign, bit her tongue when she'd just been about to say, `Ron, don't be so awful! Harry's cooking is perfectly wonderful as you very well know!'
She looked at Harry as Ron spoke and couldn't help but giggle when she saw a look on Harry's face that told her he knew precisely what she'd been about to say. And he knew she knew. And she knew he knew she knew. And neither of them even gave a second thought to that little feat of mind reading; they just shared one of their knowing smiles...
TO BE CONTINUED.
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