Warmth

Goldy

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 24/02/2006
Last Updated: 24/02/2006
Status: completed

"Harry didn’t think drinking with Hermione was really the best idea he’d ever had." Alcohol can have all sorts of effects.

Chapters

1. Warmth

1. Warmth

Title: Warmth

Author: Goldy

Pairing: Harry/Hermione

Category: Romance, humor, fluff.

Summary: A little bit of alcohol can have all sorts of effects.

Timeline: Post-Voldythingie’s defeat.

Rating: PG

Word Count: 982

A/N: Written for fanfict00bs livejournal community. I decided to take three themes and write both a Firefly and an HP ficlet (Yes, I am a dork, thank you very much). It’s quite a bit more light-hearted than my usual stuff, so I hope you guys like it.

A/N 2: If you’re curious about All Nights, I’m in the process of typing up Chapter 15. So, yes, it’s coming. *g*

Themes:

1). Alcohol

2). War

3). Honesty

***

Harry didn’t think drinking with Hermione was really the best idea he’d ever had. Not when it led to uncomfortable questions and half-truths they had gotten very, very good at avoiding.

“Honestly, I’m curious,” Hermione said, perching her wine glass between her fingers. “Why do you think we’ve never, you know, slept together?”

That’s when he started coughing.

She gave him an annoyed look and patiently charmed away the mess when he went and inevitably spilled his own wine all over the floor.

“I mean,” she said, not seeming to notice his squirming. “Neither of us are particularly repulsive people. I’ve certainly noticed that you’ve grown quite… well… fanciable over the years. And I have caught you staring at my breasts.”

Hermione looked thoughtful.

“I get asked all the time, really. Friendship like ours, it’s almost surprising we haven’t done the deed.” Hermione gave a little giggle. “Oh, I know, there have been other people, of course, but it’s still… well, don’t you think it’s odd?”

Harry nodded.

It seemed like the appropriate thing to do.

“Not that I’m suggesting that all relationships are based around sex—heavens, can you imagine me with Neville? But there’s always… I mean, there have been times when I’ve felt—”

“A tug?” Harry suggested and was pleasantly surprised to hear how calm his voice sounded.

“Yes!” Hermione said. “That’s it! It’s like, all these years, we’ve had—”

“Moments,” Harry said. “But we’ve always put them behind us, because there were other people—or, you know, that Voldemort guy.”

“That look you gave me, the day after Ron and I split for good,” Hermione said. “But then you had to drag him off—to some joint with scantily clad floozies I imagine—and we never talked about it again.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, almost fondly. “I remember that.”

He was also certain he would remember the look she was giving him now. Her cheeks were pink from the alcohol and her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

“Do you ever think… we were waiting for the right time?”

“I… er…”

She set down her wineglass and moved closer to him—much closer. He was nearly certain he could smell her shampoo.

“Hermione—I… uh…” he swallowed and found his voice. “I don’t reckon turning a friendship into… more… is really that simple.”

Her face remained collected. But her eyebrows furrowed and he could see her mind churning over his words.

Clearly, this was something she’d thought about before.

“Harry,” she said, her chin set, but her eyes warm. “We won’t know until we try.”

***

Something had been missing since the war.

For a long time, Harry thought it had been just him. He’d been the one marked as Voldemort’s “equal” or whatever it was. The rest of the wizarding world seemed content to get back to its life, barely pausing to mourn for the dead.

But lying in Hermione’s bed, her head pillowed on his arm, it slowly dawned on him that it wasn’t just him. There was an empty, sterile quality to her small flat. Her books were too organized, her surfaces too clean, and her furniture was arranged to reflect more practicality than comfort. It was the home of someone living. Not the home where someone lived.

He ran his fingers through Hermione’s hair, only vaguely registering what was in front of him. His mind was still buzzing from too much alcohol. Funny that he’d needed to be inebriated to see clearly.

Hermione shifted and yawned, her eyes fluttering open. He watched her mouth curve into a delicate little smile when she saw him.

“Hey. It’s you.”

“It’s me.”

She let her arm drift across his chest and gave him an awkward one-armed squeeze. “I rather think you took advantage of me.”

He blinked. “I took advantage of you?”

“Mmhmm,” Hermione said. She perused his face thoughtfully. “Do you know… you look quite different without your glasses.”

“Er… yeah,” Harry said. He glanced around and pointed. “They’re over there… somewhere. They got in the way while you were busy sucking on my ear.”

Hermione blushed. “Oh.”

She burrowed back down against him, her chin resting against his shoulder.

“Hermione?”

“Yes?”

“D’you…” he thought for a moment. “Does this… does this change everything?”

She didn’t answer. Harry let her be, his fingers still combing through her hair, his mind only half paying attention. Did he have anything left in him to give her? Was he destined to be hollowed out from fighting Voldemort’s war forever?

No, he thought darkly. That he did not want. There had to be more than walking around each day, carrying on with life because it was what one was expected to do.

“Harry…” she said. “Did you ever think that… this is exactly what needed to be changed?”

She sat up and he followed her with his eyes. Nearly ten years of friendship. And he didn’t think he’d ever loved her more than he did right then. He reached for her, and she clasped his hand over her stomach, her eyes scanning his.

“Harry?”

He finally shrugged. “I hate the way you make coffee.”

She stared at him. “Pardon?”

“Your coffee’s rubbish,” he said. “If I’m going to be staying over here all the time, we’re going to have to come up with a better system.”

“A better…” she narrowed her eyes. “My coffee is not rubbish.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled her back down into his arms. “Hermione, you can’t be good at everything, you know.”

“I like my coffee. What’s wrong with it?”

“Have you tried to recently? Nearly burned the roof of my mouth off the last time around.”

She humphed but relaxed, her head settling on his arm again.

They didn’t talk much after that. Harry figured they didn’t have much else to say. After all, they’d been friends for so long.

END