Friends in Low Places

SummrMagic

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 29/01/2006
Last Updated: 21/09/2006
Status: in_progress

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger are best friends and housemates...and each is in love with the other, while neither knows of the other's feelings. Will they finally admit it to each other and get together, or will Harry's ex-girlfriend get her way?

Chapters

1. Prologue

2. Chapter 2

3. Chapter 3

1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Any and all references to `Harry Potter' and related paraphernalia belong to the one and only J.K. Rowling. If there is something that catches your eye and doesn't ring a bell, well, that belongs to me. Oh yeah…the title comes from the Garth Brooks song of the same name.

Friends in Low Places

Prologue

Hermione Granger ran a few fingers through her silky brown hair and sighed exasperatedly. She looked at the newspaper in front of her and shook her head. Once more, she checked the clock located in the corner, and, once again, his hand still indicated missing. “Harry Potter, where in blazes are you?” she grumbled to herself.

The clock Hermione kept watching wasn't an ordinary clock. Instead of a minute and a second hand, it had 5 hands, each engraved with the name of someone in emerald script; where the numbers should have been situated were various places the person might be: home, visiting, work, missing, shopping, etc. Not so practical for telling time, but extremely handy when trying to locate someone. But it wasn't proving to be very helpful right now, when Hermione needed to find Harry.

Harry and Hermione were housemates, and had been for a few years. More importantly, though, they were best friends and had been for more than half their lives. They met when they were eleven years old and attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, along with Ron Weasley, their red-headed, freckle-faced, friend; the third member of their trio.

The three had moved into the house in Kent a little more than two years ago. Prior to then, Hermione lived in a small flat in Oxford, Ron was still living with his parents and Harry had been staying in London with his girlfriend of two years, Cho Chang. The three made sure to keep in contact, exchanging frequent letters and regular visits, but it wasn't the same as being a dorm or bunk away and they missed each other.

Then, out of the clear blue sky, Cho left Harry. He had returned from a road trip to find her gone. No letter or explanation, she just upped and vanished. He wanted to get on with his life, but felt he couldn't do so while living in the place they had shared. So he sold the small house and purchased a home in Kent. He sent his owl Hedwig with a letter to Hermione, asking if she wanted to move in. Instead of sending a reply, she'd given notice and arrived two days later with her belongings. Ron appeared a week after that and the trio was reunited.

Currently, it was just Harry and Hermione in the house. Ron had married Luna Lovegood, a fellow Hogwarts alumnus, a year ago. At first Ron and Luna planned on staying in the house, but soon concluded they needed their own space. Harry and Hermione were sad to see them go - until they found out the newlyweds had purchased a house one street over, directly behind them.

After looking at the clock again and glancing at her watch the check the time, `One in the morning! Where is he?' she thought, Hermione shot up from her seat and picked up the extension to call Ron and find out where Harry was. It wasn't like him to be this late coming home without letting her know and Hermione was getting a wee bit worried something had happened after practice and no one had informed her.

Hermione found herself consistently worried about Harry and his well-being. Though she never admitted it to anyone, she'd acquired a slight crush on her raven-haired, emerald-eyed best friend at some point in their school days, but never acted on it; Harry was with Cho. When Cho disappeared from the picture, she was relieved but wasn't completely sure why; she just assumed it was because the girl had broken her best friend's heart. But, being Hermione, she began analyzing herself, trying to figure out why was reacting the way she was. The reluctant conclusion she'd reached was that somewhere along the line, her `slight crush', had taken on a life of its own, by-passed `seriously in like' and was now bordering `utterly in love'.

Little did Hermione know, Harry felt the same way about her; and like Hermione, he wasn't going to admit it to anyone. He also didn't tell Hermione the entire truth about his break-up with Cho. He left out the part where he was planning on breaking it off and moving out when he came back from his four-game road trip; she'd just beaten him to it. He loved Cho, yes, but he wasn't in love with her, a big distinction. For some reason, one he refused to acknowledge until recently, he couldn't bring himself to tell her that part. He knew Hermione inside and out, figuratively of course, and wasn't prepared to answer the inevitable questions she would have regarding the circumstances behind the break-up.

Just as Hermione finished dialing the number, the unmistakable sound of someone Apparating met her ears and she chanced a quick peek at the clock. Harry's hand now rested on home and Ron's pointed to visiting. She breathed a sigh of relief then stormed out, fully intending to give them an earful.

She stopped in her tracks when she spotted them. Harry was obviously intoxicated and Ron was the only reason he was still semi-upright.

“Look who I found!” Ron called out cheerfully.

Hermione walked over to help him set Harry on the couch, but Harry wasn't cooperating.

“Herminonny!” he slurred as she reached them. He drunkenly threw his arms around her, knocking over a vase of flowers in the process. “I've been looking all over for you! Yull never guess what I saw today!”

“Besides the bottom of quite a few bottles of ale?” Hermione muttered, grunted under Harry's added weight.

“Ah, ha ha! You're so funny, Hermininny!” Harry continued. “Isn't she funny?” he asked Ron.

“She's a regular riot,” Ron retorted.

Hermione shot him a glare and he winced. “I think I'm just going to go home now. You seem to have it all under control.” He Apparated without waiting for an answer and Hermione seethed.

“You wait until I get my hands on you, Ronald Weasley,” she muttered angrily.

“You don't like him very much, do you?” Harry said in a loud stage whisper. “Don't worry, I won't tell him. I like you best anyway. You're Herminny and I love you!”

“Yeah, I love you, too, Harry,” Hermione responded. “Now let's see if we can get you to bed.”

“Not til you believe me,” Harry stated. He tried to stand on his own, with little success. He fell against Hermione and grinned lazily. “Cause I really love you!”

“Right, and I really love you, too!” Hermione replied distractedly, struggling to walk Harry to his room.

“No!” Harry declared. “I mean I really, really, really love you!!” he insisted. “For real. I don't even care that whuz-`er-face is getting married.” He was flapping his arms around and Hermione ducked in time to avoid being hit. “I'm tired. I want to sleep,” he groaned. He began undressing, leaving a trail of clothes in the hall, and collapsed on his bed.

Hermione managed to get him all tucked in, when he suddenly grabbed her arm. “You have to sleep with me tonight cause I love you and you love me,” he said matter-of-factly. “Please?” he pleaded.

Hermione took one look into his bloodshot green eyes and sighed in defeat. “Ok. I'll go change and come back.”

“Promise?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Promise,” Hermione answered quietly.

“Ok. Hurry,” Harry replied sleepily, and promptly passed out.

Hermione entered the room next door and changed into a pair of Harry's boxers and an old t-shirt. She briefly flirted with the idea of not going back, but she did promise.

She went back into Harry's room, softly shutting the door behind her. She walked around to the free side of the bed and climbed in, careful not to disturb him; she'd pulled the covers up when Harry suddenly turned toward her, eyes wide open.

“I really do love you,” Harry said softly, sounding remarkably sober, before closing his eyes again.

“And I really do love you, too,” Hermione whispered in return, failing to see the small smile the made it's way to Harry's lips.

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2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Any and all references to `Harry Potter' and related paraphernalia belong to the one and only J.K. Rowling. If there is something that catches your eye and doesn't ring a bell, well, that belongs to me.

Chapter 2

Harry awoke early the next morning and rolled over to find another position he could fall back to sleep in. What he saw was his best girl friend, sleeping peacefully, a slight smile on her lips. She looked almost angelic and Harry fought the urge to touch her face. There had been many mornings when he'd woken to this familiar sight and he never seemed to tire of it. He pressed a light kiss to Hermione's temple and closed his eyes to try to get a few more hours close to the woman he loved.

Three hours later, Hermione opened her brown eyes and blinked the sleep out of them. The first thing she noticed was that she was being waved to by the players in an old poster of the Irish National Quidditch team; the second was that there was an extra arm wrapped around her bare waist. Neither particularly surprised her, as she was subjected to this décor at least three times a week. If she were being honest with herself, she'd admit that she would rather wake up and see those ratty posters than see the pictures of Harry and Ron and the rest of her friends and family. Because that meant she was curled up next to Harry himself, and she'd take that over pictures any day.

She rolled to her back carefully, not wanting to wake Harry, only to find his emerald eyes already on her. “Good morning,” he said quietly, nuzzling her cheek with his nose.

“Good morning,” Hermione replied, giving him a small smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Never better,” Harry answered, kissing Hermione on her cheek, as close to her mouth as he dared. “You?”

“I'm fine,” Hermione responded, kissing Harry back on the cheek, in almost the same exact spot. “Then again, I wasn't the one who was drunk last night,” she added cheekily.

She rolled off the bed and darted out of the room before Harry had a chance to respond.

He chuckled and went after her, finally catching up in the kitchen. He grabbed her around the middle and tickled her sides. Hermione giggled and tried to squirm her way out of his grip.

Somehow the tangled pair managed to make it to the kitchen table, where Hermione's giggles faded as she read the headline of that morning's Daily Prophet.

“You knew about it,” Hermione said quietly, comprehension dawning on her face.

“Knew about what?” Harry asked, confused.

“About Cho getting married,” Hermione spat out. “That's why you were drunk.”

Harry blushed. “I did find out about it, from someone at work. But, I wasn't… I mean, it was, but not….. bugger!” Harry was obviously flustered. “It's not like that!”

“What is it like then Harry?” Hermione was having a hard time controlling her desire to find Cho and rip her pretty little head off.

Harry gulped, not wanting to spill his secret so soon; but he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing! “Hermione,” Harry explained slowly, “It is why I was drinking. But not for the reason you think” He handed over the newspaper article from The Daily Prophet. “I'm finally rid of her!”

“`Miss Cho Chang, 23, and Mr. Caleb Hart, 28, have announced their intent to wed. The two met one and a half years ago at a Quidditch match.

“We ran into each other and fell in love at the souvenir stand,” Chang recalls, glancing lovingly at her fiancé.

They have decided on a short engagement, and are to be married in less than one month, on the 8th of August, at a location not to be divulged, except to attendees.

“There has to be some secrecy,” Chang explains.

She laughs, but her eyes are serious. Perhaps she is referring to her ex-fiancé, Mr. Harry Potter, better known as The-Boy-Who-Lived. (See related story, How will Harry deal with heartache, pg. 8)'”

“I mean, that is such bullocks!” Harry exclaimed once Hermione was finished reading. “How will Harry deal with heartache!” he mocked. “We broke up almost two and a half years ago! Not to mention, I never asked her to marry me! I didn't even want to marry her!”

“You didn't?” Hermione asked, hope laced throughout her words.

“No, I didn't,” Harry replied softly. “I couldn't. Not when you were right in front of me.”

“Really?” Hermione squeaked. “Me?”

“Really. You.” He put his arms around Hermione and pulled her body flush to his. “It's always been you, Hermione. Always,” he whispered.

His voice, low and husky, directly into her ear, sent goosebumps all down Hermione's spine and made her shiver involuntarily. She subconsciously tried to push her body closer to him, although it was quite impossible; they were already as close as two people could be.

Harry drank in Hermione's face, his emerald eyes intent on seeing all of her and putting it into his memory, never to forget this moment. His gaze shifted to her lips, pink and looking extremely kissable, in his unbiased opinion, of course. He glanced into her eyes, silently asking what he couldn't find the voice to do. She responded by lightly biting her lower lip, a nervous gesture Harry found irresistible. He dipped his head as Hermione rose on her tiptoes and as their lips met, both closed their eyes, wanting just to rely on their senses of taste and touch; to savor this experience.

Later neither quite remembered who actually initiated the first kiss, but both knew it was the best (and would be the last) first kiss either had experienced. Harry's lips were warm on Hermione's soft ones and there was none of the awkwardness usually associated with first kisses. Their lips melted against each other and Hermione felt as though her heart was going to leap out her chest, it was pounding so hard; and it was all Harry's doing. He instinctively knew how to kiss Hermione and make her weak in the knees. He knew if he gently touched the tip of his tongue to Hermione's bottom lip, she would respond in kind; he knew just the right amount of pressure to use and she knew just how he liked his bottom lip to be lightly nibbled.

The doorbell rang, and Harry reluctantly pulled his lips from Hermione's, although he didn't let go of her.

“No one ever rings that bell,” Harry remarked dryly. “So it's obviously someone we don't want here.”

“You're most likely right, but just in case, we should probably get it. We don't want to be rude,” Hermione stated halfheartedly.

Still holding hands, they walked to the front door, which Hermione opened.

“Cho?” she gasped out.

“Is Harry here?” Cho asked impatiently.

“Cho?” Harry asked, clearly surprised.

“Oh, Harry!” Cho cried out, pushing Hermione out of the way and throwing her arms around him. “I've missed you so much!”

Harry looked at Hermione uneasily and pried Cho's hands off his body. “How did you find out where I live?” he asked, cautiously.

“I remembered the night we talked about wanting to raise a family here, so I took a chance and here you are!” Cho gushed, sickly sweet, putting her arms around him again.

Hermione could only watch the exchange in silence, her heart having made its way down to her toes. “I'll, um, just leave you two be then,” she stammered.

Harry opened his mouth to object, but Cho beat him to it. “There's a good girl,” she cooed condescendingly.

Hermione went into the kitchen to Apparate to Ron and Luna's, but thought better of it. Although she couldn't see what was going on, she could hear everything perfectly clear, and that's what mattered.

“What are you doing here, Cho?” Harry asked angrily. “We never talked about having a family, much less moving here. How did you find me?”

“Oh, that,” Cho relied airily. “Michaelson told me where you lived. All that other stuff was just for show.”

“Why are you here?” Harry reiterated.

“You act like you're not happy to see me,” Cho flirted, putting her hand on Harry's arm.

“Imagine that,” Harry retorted, shrugging her off. “Why are you here?”

“Aren't we still single-minded,” Cho giggled. “Although I liked it better when all you thought about was something else,” she added seductively.

Harry stiffened and Hermione froze in her hiding place. “That was a long time ago,” he forced out.

“Don't you miss me?” Cho pouted.

“Not especially,” Harry spat back

“So you're over me; over this.”

Hermione didn't hear any words, but she couldn't mistake the noise of kissing and her heart, if possible, sank even lower.

Harry roughly pushed Cho away. “What are you trying to pull?” he asked suspiciously.

Cho laughed flirtatiously. “Can you honestly say you don't miss that?”

“Yes, I can,” Harry stated simply.

“You're just kidding yourself. Hermione isn't here. You can do whatever you want,” Cho added suggestively. “Or whomever you want. Not that it stopped you before.”

“That was then. This is now,” Harry said firmly.

“Oh don't tell me you two are together,” Cho sneered

“Then I won't,” Harry replied. “But that doesn't make it any less true.”

“Please,” Cho scoffed. “You'd want Know-It-All-Granger over me?”

“Right in one,” Harry answered.

“Well that's too bad, because I want you back,” Cho declared. “And I always get what I want, when I want it.”

“Not from me,” Harry said firmly.

“You don't think so?” Cho challenged. She closed the gap and kissed him roughly. He pulled back and glared at her.

“Hermione!” Cho said, faking surprise.

Harry paled and whirled around to see his new girlfriend standing behind them. “I can explain,” he tried to choke out.

“There's no need,” Hermione stated calmly, walking towards them. Cho was grinning triumphantly, but stopped as Hermione shifted her gaze.

“I told him to stop, but he said he didn't want me to marry Caleb, that he wanted me all to himself. Then he kissed me,” Cho broke out into false tears and Harry had never detested anyone so much in his life at that moment.

“Really?” Hermione asked. “Is that so?”

Harry looked at her questioningly. She didn't sound angry at all, just highly amused.

“Because that's not what it sounded like from the kitchen,” she added casually.

“Kitchen? What are you talking about?” Cho choked out, suddenly nervous.

“Kitchen,” Hermione repeated. “You know, the place where you, well, your slave, cook food,” she explained slowly. “Ours happens to be right through that doorway.”

A smile appeared on Harry's face at the same rate as the one on Cho's faded. “You heard everything?” Cho faltered. “See! She doesn't even respect your privacy!” She made a move to reach for Harry, only to find he had moved behind Hermione and put his arms around her middle.

“Harry,” Cho whined.

“What?” he asked harshly.

“Don't you want what we had before?” she asked coyly.

“Why would I want that when I've got something so much better than that now?” Harry replied evenly. “Now please leave my -our- house.”

“You really want me to leave?” Cho feigned hurt.

“Very much so,” Harry retorted. “I think you know the way out.”

Cho narrowed her eyes at the dismissal. “This isn't over. Mark my words, we will be back together.”

“There's a good girl,” Hermione shot back. “Bye now!” she added sweetly.

Cho threw one last glare at the pair and left the house in a huff.

“I guess you were wrong about her not wanting anything to do with you anymore,” Hermione joked weakly.

Harry groaned. “And this is just going to get worse. There has to be a way to put an end to it, once and for all.”

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, as she mulled the situation over. She was interrupted however when she noticed the look in Harry's eye. Then all she could think of (besides how much she wanted to snog him again) was that Cho Chang was in trouble; trouble of the Maraudering nature.

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3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Any and all references to `Harry Potter' and related paraphernalia belong to the one and only J.K. Rowling. If there is something that catches your eye and doesn't ring a bell, well, that belongs to me.

Chapter 3

“Harry, are you sure you want to do this?” Hermione tried to reason with her boyfriend.

“Oh come on, Hermione, let Harry have his fun!” Ron retorted. “You should be thanking him and celebrating that he's going to get Cho off his case for good!”

“You be quiet, Ron Weasley!” Hermione snapped, turning on him. “I'm still mad at you for letting Harry get that drunk. I don't care what his reasoning was.”

Ron visibly shrank back, not wanting to be on the business end of Hermione's wand. She still knew some decent hexes and didn't hesitate to use them; especially on him.

“Oh, Ronald,” came Luna Weasley`s soft, dreamy voice. “I told you not to play with the powdered Jobberknoll feathers! It doesn't mix well with a certain ingredient in Firewhiskey.”

“Sorry, Luna,” Ron apologized. “But I'm sure nothing mixes with that!” he muttered to Harry. Even though he loved his wife more than anything or anyone, he still didn't understand most of the things she talked about. But he tried, and she loved him for that; well that, and of course, the red hair their children would undoubtedly be blessed with went wonderfully with silver bottlecaps on green string.

Harry put the finishing touches to a letter that was short and sweet…well, it was short and necessary, for the plan he had hatched and shared with his friends to get Cho off his back. He tied the letter to Ron's owl, Pig, and the tiny bird flew off excitedly to deliver its cargo. Hedwig gave him an indignant hoot, displeased with not being chosen to carry a letter for her owner. Harry stroke her feathers softly. “I don't want to send you to that woman. I know you don't like her,” he explained quietly.

Hedwig visibly relaxed at his words and she nipped at his nose playfully.

“Besides,” Harry continued. “You're much too well-behaved for this particular delivery.”

Hermione just shook her head and walked over to her boyfriend and hugged him about his waist. “So we're really going to do this. Well, I guess technically, you're going to do this, because…..”

The remainder of her words were cut off as Harry kissed her lips. “You talk too much sometimes, Hermione,” he teased her once he relinquished her mouth. “Besides, it's too late now. That message is on its way. Plan `piss off Cho' is up and running,” he finished, grinning maniacally.

Harry and Ron spent the next hour bouncing ideas off one another about the next step in the plan, each more ridiculous than the last. Hermione could only listen as she waited anxiously for a return letter. In her mind, the sooner this was taken care of, the sooner Cho would be put in her place…and out of Harry's life. She was caught up in her own thoughts on the subject when something hitting her in the head brought her back to the present.

“Pig's back!” Ron exclaimed unnecessarily, as the bird in question was flying around Harry and Hermione excitedly.

“Accio Pig,” Hermione called quietly, causing the small owl to fly into her hands.

Harry carefully detached the letter from the overly enthusiastic animal, and looked at Hermione as he unraveled and read it.

Hermione chewed on her nails nervously as she awaited what Cho had to say and if the plan would be a failure before it even really was off the ground.

Harry read the letter, his grin growing wider and wider as he got to the end of it. “We're in,” he said mischievously. “Saturday at 3. Madam Puddifoot's.”

Hermione smiled weakly in return, knowing the plan was going into full effect and she would have to sit by while Harry met with Cho. She wasn't looking forward to this plan, even though she knew none of it was really true; it was all just an act for the greater good. But that didn't mean she had to like it!

Sensing her discomfort, Harry pulled Hermione into his arms, kissing her forehead. “You know that if I knew another way, I would do it in a heartbeat,” he reassured her. “I'm not particularly fond of her and will be thinking of you. I'll also try to keep contact to the absolute minimum; just enough to avoid suspicion.”

“I know,” Hermione sighed, wrapping her arms around him. “I know I'm being silly, but the thought of her even just touching you is making me crazy!”

“You don't have to worry about anything,” Harry replied softly. “You have my heart and I don't ever want it back. It's yours to keep, Hermione Granger, for as long as you want it.”

Hermione felt herself melt at his words and as she hugged him tightly, never wanting to let go.

“Hermione,” Ron asked suddenly. “What are Jobberknoll feathers used in?”

“Memory potions and truth serums,” she replied.

“Oh,” Ron said.

“So if he hadn't been in Luna's store of them,” Harry trailed off.

“You would not have admitted you loved me last night,” Hermione finished.

“And then I wouldn't have been able to do this whenever I wanted,” Harry added, bending his head to place his lips sweetly upon Hermione's.

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