Thank Merlin for Sleeping Draughts
Author's Note: Gee, I don't know what's come over me. I keep writing, and writing, and writing, and I'm actually finishing things! This is amazing! So here ye be, another short little one-shot for all you wonderful people.
Mornings. Blech. Harry didn't want to hear about mornings. If it was before noon, he didn't want to have anything to do with it. He paid his dues in Hogwarts. Now, he was a Quidditch player, starting seeker for the Chudley Cannons. They never had games that started before three, so Harry had no reason to ever get out of bed before noon. And to boot, it was the off-season. So Harry was reasonably irritated when he was woken up by a very loud banging on his door. He had set up wards that only Ron or Hermione could get past, and both of them knew better.
"This had better be important," he grumbled as he headed towards the door. "I'd really rather not have to kill either of them."
Opening the door, he was greeted by the sight of a Hermione who looked worse than he probably did, being held up by a concerned-looking co-worker. The idea of Hermione in less-than-good condition immediately brought Harry into full alert mode. He took Hermione out of her co-worker's arms, and picked her up, carrying her into the house.
"Come on in," he said to the woman who had helped Hermione to his door. He owed her at least something to eat, or something. She looked a little nervous about entering. "Really, come in, it's fine. The house doesn't bite, and neither do I." She walked in cautiously, and closed the door behind her.
Harry set Hermione down on the sofa, and kneeled next to her.
"Harry?" She looked thoroughly confused. "What are you doing here?"
"I live here." He brushed some hair out of her face. "How are you feeling?"
"You live here?" She tried to sit up. "Since when do you live at the Ministry?"
"Hermione, you're not at the Ministry. You're at my house."
"I've got to get back to work," she said, her voice wavering like a drunken ballerina. She tried to sit up again, but Harry wouldn't let her.
"Hermione, you're not well. You have to relax."
"Uh-uh. Gotta get back to work." Again, she tried to sit up. She was far too weak, however, so she just fell back down onto the couch.
"Hermione, I need you to do me a favor, okay?"
"Anything for you, Harry," she said softly, smiling.
"I just need you to relax for a little while for me, okay? Just take a little nap."
"But I'm not tired," she protested.
"Just a little one, okay? Just for me?"
"Well, 'kay." She squirmed a little on the couch, and Harry gave her a pillow, and draped a blanket over her that he kept on the back of the couch.
"Sleep well, Hermione," he said softly, and headed into the kitchen, where Hermione's co-worker was waiting.
"Hi," she said sheepishly.
"Hi. I'm sorry, I can't remember your name. I know I've met you, but I don't have a name to go with you."
"I'm Annie. We met at the holiday party at the Ministry."
"Oh, that's right. Okay, Annie, I've seen Hermione when she wasn't at her best, but nothing like this. What happened?" Harry put some water on.
"She's been overworking herself for weeks. I can't remember a time I was there that she wasn't in the last three weeks. I'm pretty sure she slept there a couple of times. She's been working like a crazed woman. I mean, everything she does is done well, but I started getting worried the second time I caught her asleep at her desk when I came in to work in the morning, and I tried to convince her to take a personal day and just go home and sleep."
"I'll bet that worked well," said Harry with a sigh.
"She wouldn't hear of it. Said she had to forget something, had to work it out of her mind. Didn't catch what it was, she wasn't speaking very clearly." Annie sighed. "So yesterday, I decided to see just how early she was coming in, because she was there before me every single day. I woke up really early this morning, and got into work about two hours before I usually do, and Hermione was asleep in her chair. I woke her up, and told her I wasn't going to sit idly by while she worked herself to death. I took her home, and…" Harry held a hand up to cut her off.
"You gave her a sleeping draught, didn't you?" He rubbed his forehead, sighing.
"Well, yeah. I thought a full day of sleep might help her."
"Sleeping draughts don't work right with Hermione," said Harry, taking a deep breath. "There's no way you would have known this, but all they do is make her groggy, and really out of it. I don't know what it is, but the only sleeping draught she can take that'll work right is a special formula that was worked out at St. Mungo's especially for her. I'll bet I can guess the rest. You left her at her flat, thinking she'd be fine, and went back to work." Annie nodded. "And a few hours later, she shows up back at work, stumbling around, looking for all the world like she was completely drunk."
"This has happened before, hasn't it?"
"Yeah, the only times we ever tried to give her sleeping draughts, that was exactly what happened. The first time, I thought I had poisoned her. She slept it off in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, but she kept trying to leave. The next time, I watched everything like a hawk, and I was sure I didn't do anything wrong, but when she reacted like that again, I rushed her to St. Mungo's. That's when they told me that she didn't react well to sleeping draughts, and they worked out the formula for her."
"I wish I had known that. I feel horrible."
"It's okay, Annie. You were just trying to help her out. Although I wish you had contacted me in the first place, you did do the right thing. How did you know to bring her here?"
"Well, I decided she needed help, and she talks about you and Ron a lot. It took me nearly half an hour, but I managed to get out of her that Ron was away somewhere."
"Yeah, he's on a trip to America with his wife, Luna, and their daughter, Claire."
"Right. So I figured I'd bring her here. And in all honesty, it wasn't that hard to find out where you live."
"Yeah, the wards are the only way I can have any kind of privacy. I suppose you piggybacked in with Hermione."
Annie shrugged. "I guess so. I'm sorry I woke you up, Mr. Potter."
"Really, Annie, call me Harry. And it's okay. Hermione needed me, I don't mind. I appreciate you bringing her to me."
"Of course. I know how close you two are. I figured you'd know what to do."
"Yeah. I'll keep an eye on her untill it's worn off. You want some tea?"
"No thanks, I have to get back to work. Tell her I hope she feels better."
"Will do. Thanks for bringing her here."
"No problem."
Harry showed Annie to the door, and after he closed the door behind her, he sighed heavily. He hadn't seen Hermione in about…what was it? Three weeks sounds about right. The trio's normal weekly get-together had been reduced to a duo when Ron and Luna decided they wanted to take Claire to Disney World, after they had heard stories about it from Hermione, who had been there as a child. Hermione then told Harry that she was absolutely swamped at work, and wouldn't be able to make their get-together for a couple of weeks. He had protested, but, stubborn as she was, it made no difference. It had all seemed very odd to Harry. Almost immediately after Ron and Luna left, Hermione had told him how busy she was. And now this. Something was up. She was hiding something.
"How long has it been since it was just the two of us anyway," he wondered out loud. He tried to think back to the last memory he had of time he spent with just Hermione. It was over a year before. He remembered it because Hermione had been acting awfully oddly. She kept avoiding his eyes, like she was too ashamed of herself to meet his gaze. He hadn't known what to make of it, but had written it off as a strange mood she was in
"No, wait a minute," he said to himself, sitting down on the chair across from the couch, upon which Hermione was now fast asleep. "Just a couple months ago; Ron and Luna's anniversary. She stopped by, didn't she?" While his best friend had gone off for a romantic weekend with his wife, Harry had volunteered to let Claire stay with him. She loved his house, and he thought she was the cutest little girl in the history of little girls. A bundle of Weasley energy combined with Lovegood curiosity, all bundled up in an adorable little freckled girl with golden hair. Hermione had stopped by to see her and play with her, and Harry hadn't taken note of it at the time, since he was so absorbed with little Claire, but she had barely said three words to Harry.
Hermione began to stir, and Harry went over and sat on the armrest by her head.
"Harry?" She looked up. "Whas'matter? Where am I?"
"You're at my house," he said softly, stroking her hair gently.
"What'm I doing here?"
"It's a long story," he said quietly. "Let's just say you weren't feeling too well, and Annie brought you here."
"Annie?"
"Yeah, she left a little while ago."
"She brought me home." She tried to sit up again, with considerably more success. Harry moved down to the seat cushion next to her. "How'd I get here?" She held up her hand. "Wait a sec, I remember she gave me something." She rubbed her head. "Can't think. My head's too fuzzy."
"It's okay, Hermione, just relax." Harry didn't want to tell her she had been given a sleeping draught just yet, for fear she might get upset, and he didn't want to have to deal with an upset Hermione, not when she was as out of it as she was.
"I think…I think there was something I wanted to tell you, Harry," she said, rubbing her temples. "It was important. Merlin, I can't think!"
"Hermione, calm down, it'll come to you." Harry placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder, and it was as if he completed a circiut. Hermione jumped up.
"Of course! How on earth could I have forgotten that!" She rubbed the bridge of her nose and sat back down. "Head's still not clear," she muttered. "Still, I can't believe I forgot that."
"It's okay, Hermione. You can tell me later."
"No, Harry, I need to tell you now. I love you, Harry. I mean, I'm in love with you. I have been for a long time now, and it's important you know that."
Harry froze.
That would explain everything, he thought. How strange she's been acting, why she didn't want to get together with me these past few weeks, everything!
Hermione groaned, and Harry snapped out of his trance.
"Harry, I don't feel so good," she moaned, holding her stomach.
"Okay, Hermione, come on, let's get you to the bathroom." He helped her up, and put her arm around his shoulder, while holding her around her waist, and holding her hand with his other hand. They reached the bathroom just in time, and Harry held Hermione's hair back for her until she felt better.
It was a good thing Harry was watching her as closely as he was, because halfway back to the couch, Hermione nearly fell asleep in mid-step. Luckily, Harry caught her, and carried her back to the couch. With her safely tucked in again, Harry sat back down in his chair.
She loves me, he thought, staring at her. I can't believe it. He laughed softly. He was just getting over her. Every boyfriend of hers had been like a stab in the gut for Harry, and he was finally getting over her, and she tells him she loves him. Of course that's the way it works, Harry. How else did you think it would happen? He took a deep breath. Wait a minute, she's really not feeling well. She could have…I don't know, but I can't take her word for anything right now, not with the way she's feeling. Unwilling to think about such things anymore, he contented himself with just sitting and watching her for awhile.
It was hours before Hermione showed any signs of waking up, and it wasn't until Harry was almost done preparing dinner that she actually awoke.
"Harry," she said, holding her head gingerly. "What happened?" He could see she was back to normal, only with what seemed to be a mild headache.
"Annie was worried about you overworking yourself, and she gave you a sleeping draught," he said, stirring a pot of sauce.
"Oh. Wonderful."
"Don't be mad at her, she was just worried about you. You've been overworking yourself these past few weeks. She was just trying to help."
"I know." She sat down at the kitchen table. "Harry, did I wake up at all while I was here?"
"Yeah, twice," he said, still facing the stove.
"And did I say anything?"
"Um…" Harry's heart began to race. He was furiously debating with himself what to tell her.
"Please, Harry, I need to know what I said. I think I remember, but I have to be sure."
Harry's decision was made for him. He couldn't lie to her. He put the sauce on a lower flame, and went and sat down next to Hermione.
"You told me you were in love with me, and have been for a long time."
"Oh, great," she groaned, holding her head in her hands.
"Hermione…" Harry lifted her chin up, and saw that tears had started to run down her face. "Oh, hey now, don't cry, Hermione."
"Why not? I just made a fool of myself in front of my best friend!" She covered her face with her hands again. "You're not supposed to fall in love with your best friend! That's not the way it's supposed to work!"
"Hermione, stand up," said Harry, standing as well. He wrapped his arms around her. "You didn't make a fool of yourself," he insisted.
"Of course I did," she sniffed softly. "I've been trying to hide it from you for almost two years, and it's only gotten worse. I know you don't love me back, Harry. I think I should go now."
"Hermione," began Harry, not letting her go. "You've been my best friend for most of my life, and nothing's ever going to change that, but I've been in love with you for a long time. I didn't want to say anything, because I thought you didn't feel the same way."
"How long?" Hermione finally lowered her hands, and looked Harry in the eyes.
"I think when I saw you at Ron and Luna's wedding, it was like seeing a whole new you. I think that was it."
"Me too," she said, smiling sheepishly, and sniffing. She made a face. "Harry, I think the sauce is burning."
"Let it burn," he said softly, and leaned in close to Hermione. As their lips touched, Harry knew that it was right. He knew that no matter what, they would always be together.
"Thank Merlin for sleeping draughts," he whispered as the kiss ended. Hermione smiled.
"Done," she whispered with a smile.