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I May Hate Myself in the Morning
Mei Queen
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Authoress' Note: Thanks for all of your support, everyone…I appreciate every single review, and even though I don't always get the time to reply, just know that you have made my day infinitely better by taking the time to comment, even if it was something simple like "good job" or "keep writing". And, to the people who leave the long and detailed reviews? Well, you're just flat-out fab.
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Disclaimer: Uh. Yeah. Soooo…not mine.
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LAST CHAPTER-
Should I go? Harry and I aren't exclusive…hell; we're not even definitely dating. I suppose it won't harm anything. I really would like to see how Billy has been; he was a great companion when we were drafting that proposal. Pretty funny, if I remember right. "Sure, why not?" I replied with a smile.
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Chapter 3: Miss Loony Lovegood
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I twiddled the keys in my hand, relishing the feel of the cool metal against my sweaty palm. I had spent the past five minutes savouring the walk to the flat's door. I really did not want to go in. I did not want to have to explain to Harry that I just accepted a date invite with another bloke. The logical part of me was saying that Harry and I, well, we were not remotely an item. We aren't dating. We shagged once due to truly ridiculous amounts of alcohol in our bloodstreams.
But my heart wasn't buying it.
The rest of me was saying that there was an undeniable connection between Harry Potter and me. That night couldn't have just been coincidence, the emotional side passionately argued. People don't just 'hook up'. There is always underlying attraction. Especially in this case, as there was considerable flirting involved while both of us were drinking. Somewhere in the shots of firewhiskey, you knew where the night was leading, and you ordered another round.
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"Hermione, are you okay?" Ronald Weasley called, swinging open the front door and striding out to meet me where I was standing motionless in the walkway.
Shaking off my reverie, I met his eyes with a smile. "Yeah, thanks, I'm fine."
"But…you parked about ten minutes ago and still haven't made it to the door."
"I'm a slow walker," I replied with an uneasy smile, waving off his intense expression of concern.
"Hermione," Ron replied in his 'please don't try to lie to me' tone, "Dementors walk faster than this. And they don't even walk. They-"
"Glide, yes, thank you. I know, Ronald," I snapped, looking up at him fiercely.
Ron held up his hands in surrender.
"I'm sorry, Ron, it's been a long day. Help me get the groceries out of the boot?" I asked hopefully, dangling the keys by his empty hands.
"Sure," he replied with a tentative grin, accepting the keys with dexterity.
Smiling, I turned to walk to the car with him to help unload the bags, but a voice stopped me before I could go any further.
"What were you out here doing?"
Harry was whispering in my ear, but the undertones were really unnecessary as Ron was already out of earshot, anyway. Looking up, I noticed how anxious Harry's stunning emerald eyes looked at that moment. He was worried, the emotional part of me thought sappily.
Then the emotional side sobered up a bit when it remembered that I still had to somehow relay that I had accepted a date with another man, for reasons I entirely do not remember. It is extremely difficult, you see, to remember why one would want to date anyone but Harry Potter when standing near his presence, especially if you're looking in to his eyes.
Which I was.
Sighing and resolutely tearing my eyes away from his, I looked at my feet and clasped my hands. "Uh, I have something to tell you, but I really didn't know how to say it."
"You can tell me anything, 'Mione, you know that."
I chuckled hollowly. "That's sweet, Harry, but there are some things you don't want to hear."
My eyes were still trained on the ground, so I noted with amusement Harry's feet stepping a few paces backward after my statement. He waited a few moments before clearing his breath and replying nervously, "This doesn't have anything to do with, um, women stuff, does it?"
I couldn't help it. The bubbling giggles inside me were threatening to explode. So I slowly let out a mild chortle, which turned into a healthy laugh, and from there blossomed to a full-blown case of the giggles.
Harry Potter, naturally, thought I had gone completely mad. As did Ron, who had just rejoined our little party, arms full to the brim with brown grocery bags.
The redhead was staring at me crossly when I began to regain my composure. "What is it, Ron?"
"Oh, nothing, 'Mione. Just that generally when one asks for help with the groceries, it implies that they themselves are going to do something to help. For future reference, and all," he muttered with a scowl, turning to walk up to the door.
Oops. Right. I knew I was forgetting something. "Sorry, Ron. Harry just had to ask me a question."
Ron swivelled, mildly placated. Calmly, he turned to Harry. "Well, out with it, mate. What was so bloody important?"
Harry reddened and immediately began to stutter.
Merlin, the bloke's a crap liar, I thought to myself with amusement before quickly trying to think of an alibi. "Um, Harry was asking me whether it's really wise for me to accept a date so soon after breaking up the…"
"Asshole," Ron supplied helpfully.
"Right," I muttered. Looking up, I noticed that Harry's eyes had gone wide with shock.
Ron tapped his finger against his chin with his spare hand. "It's a good question, 'Mione…It's awfully soon. Who asked you?"
"Billy McKinnon."
Harry was regarding me incredulously by this point. Apparently he had just figured out that the dating question was more than just an alibi, it was what I had wanted to tell him in the first place. "'Give Goblins Gringotts' bloke?"
My eyebrows knit in annoyance. "He's nice enough. What's your problem?"
His eyes were blazing furiously. Harry was angry. Don't get me wrong; I've seen Harry Potter fuming many, many times in my day. But never has it been directed at me. Never. "Oh, I have no bloody problem, Hermione. Have fun."
After Harry was well out of earshot and had slammed the door to the flat, Ron turned to me in confusion. "What was that about?"
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I sighed in exhaustion, eyes trailing to the clock above my desk.
It was Tuesday of the next week, and I was stuck at work. The past weekend had been hell, Harry refused to even make eye contact with me, and when we did actually speak, it was short, stunted answers. His tone was always dull, it was like he was regarding me as someone about as interesting as Dudley Dursley. I didn't really know what to do to fix it, either. I could apologise, but I really didn't know exactly what I did wrong. I had expected him to mildly upset about the date, but never this blatant anger, this silent treatment. Should I break the date with Billy? Should I just say 'I'm sorry' to Harry and take my chances that I was apologising for the right thing?
Groaning and putting my head in my hands, I was very surprised a moment later when a blue inter-office memo whizzed right in to my hand. Reading the name on the wing of the paper airplane, it was enough to make my headache worsen exponentially.
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From the Desk Of:
Ernie Macmillan
Head of the Department of International Magical Affairs
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I really don't want to hear from that pompous prick right now, I thought with a sigh, grudgingly unfolding the airplane to see what Ernie had to say.
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Hermione-
Luna Lovegood has been at my desk for near a bloody hour petitioning the hunt for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in Asia. She wanted me to owl the Asian prime minister straightaway. Now she's grudgingly given up that fight, but has brought out her drafted proposal for their rights.
I've sent her on down your way. Hope you don't mind.
Have fun!
-Ernie
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Frantically grabbing a sheet of parchment and dipping my quill in some ink, I hastily scribbled:
Ernie-
No! No, please, Merlin, no!
I do not have time for this! Keep her there.
Oh- she's knocking…you bastard. You owe me.
-Hermione.
Folding it quickly, I sent the memo whizzing on its way as I walked to the door to greet the person I really just did not feel in the mood for: Miss "Loony" Lovegood herself.
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Sighing, I motioned the slim blonde to take a chair opposite my desk. Slowly lowering myself into in my own seat, I clasped my hands together, making sure to apply a businesslike smile. "So. What can I do for you, Luna?"
Clasping her portfolio a bit closer to her chest, she smiled at me. "How have you been, Hermione?"
Ah, so she feels like small talk then. She never exactly was one for getting straight to the point, though, my mind noted cynically before answering. "Decent, thanks. And yourself?"
Her expression seemed faraway (not a stretch, I know, but she looked even more disconnected than usual) when she answered. "Good, a bit lonely, though."
I had forgotten about this trait of Luna's, this odd bluntness. She had a way to sense things about people, and she seemed to have no real problem with sharing intimate details about herself with people she barely knew. Unable to contain my curiosity, I asked, "What happened with Neville?"
She snorted. "We went on a few dates before realising how ridiculous we were together, I suppose. What about you, what happened with Ronald?"
I laughed. "We broke up almost as soon as we were out of Hogwarts."
"Are you lonely, too?"
I immediately sobered at the question. My stomach felt like it was sinking. Luna always had a knack for asking exactly the question that sent my mind reeling. Most people usually give an insincere "I'm sorry" when they hear that a couple has broken up. Nobody ever means it, it's just a compulsory habit, a polite exchange we expect in everyday life. But Luna Lovegood? Nah, she goes straight for the kill.
Whispering, I replied, "I…don't know."
Her eyebrow raised in confusion. "Uh oh, that sounds bad. What happened?'
All of my problems had been getting more and more bottled up for the past week that Harry hadn't been talking to me. He was my confidant, and without him, I felt like I was about to explode. I was going mad from the tension, but I couldn't talk to Ron. It would be weird to tell him, seeing as shagging his (well, our) best mate was basically the root of all my problems. And now Luna was actually asking. She wanted to know. And so, that is how I, Hermione Jayne Granger, sensible level-headed witch…poured out all of my life's problems to Luna Lovegood, practical nutter.
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Luna tapped her finger against her chin, letting out a low whistle. "Well. That is quite the pickle, now, isn't it?"
I nodded, sighing. "I don't know what to do."
"So, to recap, you shagged Harry while living in his and Ronald's flat. You went grocery shopping, where you accepted a date invite. You went home, spat it out bluntly that you were going on the date. Harry thought you were joking. Then he realised you were serious, hasn't spoken to you in five days, and yet you're still going on said date in a few days, anyway."
I reddened. "Well, when you put it that way…"
"How else would I put it, Hermione?" Luna asked curiously, fixing her gaze on me with those immense blue eyes.
It's ridiculous how blunt this woman is, I thought with a snort. "What should I do, then?"
"I should think that was obvious," she replied simply. "But there are a few things that you need to figure out first."
Sighing, I decided to humour her. "Like what?"
"Do you love Harry?"
Wow. Well, I didn't really see that one coming. And…I don't know how to answer, either. "Um…I don't know. I definitely love him like a friend, but um …'that way'? I'm honestly unsure."
"Well," she said logically, weighing my answer, "at least it wasn't a definite 'no'. Love can grow with an answer like that. Do you think that this Billy chap could be the 'one', then? Do you love him?"
"I definitely don't love Billy, no," I muttered in response, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. Mindlessly, my eyes trailed back to the clock sitting placidly above my desk. An hour had gone by since Luna arrived. Wow. It hadn't felt like more than a few minutes. I had never known her as well as Ginny did back at Hogwarts, but I was finding that is was extremely easy to confide in Luna Lovegood.
"Well, I say you cancel the date. You can wreck your potential love for a relationship that won't go anywhere, or you cannot. It's a fairly simple choice, if you ask me," she answered with a tone of finality.
"Right," I replied, considerably chastened. "What about Harry?"
"I think that," the blonde began, "if you break the date, Harry will break his silent treatment. But if you go? Well…then you'll have a whole new host of issues on your hands, Hermione."
"Right. Thank you, Luna."
"You're welcome," she replied with a helpful smile.
If you had told me back at Hogwarts that some of the most influential advice I have ever received in all my years would come from the mouth of Luna Lovegood, I would have recommended you for a long stay at St. Mungo's. But I realised in that office that a lot of the definite facts of my life had begun to come in to question lately. I wasn't as sure about anything anymore, especially how I felt about Harry Potter.
Mentally shaking myself out of my reverie, I looked back at Luna with alertness. "I'm sorry; we've spent ages talking about me. Ernie said that there was a proposal you wanted to show me?"
She smiled in response. "I think you've had enough information shoved down your throat today, Hermione. How about I leave it with my card, and you can call me when you've finished paging through it?"
Looking down at her card, I smiled when I noted her self-appointed position.
Luna Lovegood Chairwoman of QARO (Quibbler's Animal Rights Organisation)
Grinning, I replied. "Thank you."
"No, thank you, Hermione Granger," Luna replied, beaming as I accepted her leather folder.
As I ushered Luna out of my office, I realised that the past hour and a half had taught me something about people. Luna Lovegood was someone I had definitely written off as a complete nutter back in our school days. And yet, without knowing me at all, she had managed to pry the dearest situation to my heart out of me with a few minutes of small talk. Whether it was Luna's great people skills or my desperation to speak with someone, that I didn't know, but nor did I care.
I didn't care because I felt indebted to Luna Lovegood. Not only did she pry out the situation, she had given me a clear-cut path to follow. Her outsider insight had proven extremely worthwhile and downright invaluable. Unfortunately, the advice could only take me so far. Now I had to figure out what to do, and do the hardest part: actually make the path happen.
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"How was your day?" I began cautiously, closing the door to the flat behind me later that night.
Ron was at an away game in Belgium, and Harry was sitting morosely on the couch, flipping through channels on the television.
"S'fine," he mumbled, using a puff of air to blow his messy fringe out of his face.
Bloke needs a haircut, I thought with a giggle. I can't even count the amount of times I've thought that about him. But I know by now that his hair is hopeless, it's not bloody going anywhere. I don't even know if I'd really want it to…it's horribly messy, true, but it's just so…Harry.
I had been staring, and his green eyes met my chocolate curiously.
"What is it?"
I looked back at him, stunned. "I dunno. That's just more than you've said to me in about a week, Harry."
"Well," he muttered, turning back to the television, "I guess I won't talk to you again, then."
"No," I whispered with a smile, walking over to sit by him on the couch, "I'm glad you spoke to me."
Looking up, his eyes met mine for a moment before looking away. "Are you still going on that date?"
"I haven't told him no yet," I admitted, chewing my lip.
"Well," he replied in a tone that sounded like it was finishing the conversation, "I guess I have nothing more to say to you, Hermione."
I could feel my irritation grow. "It's not my fault, you know. I don't see what you're making this into such a monumental row for. It's not a big deal."
Oh, bleeding brilliant, Hermione. The first time he talks to you in a few days, and you blame him for escalating the argument. Ruddy genius you are sometimes, I mentally berated myself. I looked down at my clasped hands. I knew what was coming.
Sure enough, Harry slowly swivelled, regarding me in obvious shock. "Excuse me? It's not your fault? You could have said, 'No, sorry, Billy. I'm seeing someone right now.' How difficult is that on a scale of one to ten, Hermione? I'm pretty sure that Miss 'I Got Every NEWT Possible' Granger could bloody handle something that simple!"
He was practically roaring in my ear, he was so angry. I didn't honestly blame him, what I had said was pretty idiotic. But there was one thing that was irking me…
"Harry, am I seeing someone right now?" I asked indignantly, placing my hands on my hips and turning to face him.
His face reddened and he began to stutter slightly. "W-well…I just thought that was a given."
"Look," I said with exasperation, "I know you're not exactly Casanova, Harry, and I don't hold that against you. In fact, I actually prefer your hesitant approach to girls. Well…generally. But in times like this, when we've…um…"
I reddened, trying to gather my nerve. For some reason, it was still hard for me to wrap my mind around saying this word in Harry's presence. Hell, it was odd to remember that Harry and I had actually done this. "Since we've…um…shagged, it's kind of necessary to iron out details like what exactly we are to one another."
He looked considerably chastened. "Right," he muttered, looking down at his feet, cheeks a rather attractive shade of pink. He's damn cute sometimes, I thought to myself with a smirk.
"So," he began nervously, stepping a little closer to me.
"Yes?" I asked curiously.
Finally looking up from his feet, he locked eyes with mine, letting out a shaky breath. "Wannagooutwithme?"
I lifted an eyebrow. "I feel like we're back in Hogwarts all over again," I quipped with a cynical grin. "Now what exactly did you ask? Slower and more enunciated this time, please."
Harry chuckled nervously, slowly saying, "Would you like to go out with me sometime?"
"Like on a date?" I asked, hopes rising slightly. My heart felt like it was beating a few miles a minute. Who would have ever guessed, I thought to myself ironically, that we would have the seduction before the innocent dating and polite conversation? Harry and I never really were ones for doing things 'the normal way', I guess. And even though we have shagged, the dating bit is just as ruddy nerve-wracking!
"Um," he replied rather ineloquently, hand flying up to muss his hair, "uh…yeah, pretty much."
I smiled. Flinging my arms around his neck and pulling him in to a hug, I murmured in to his ear, "I'd love to."
He seemed relieved at the embrace, quickly reacting and bringing his arms to rest at my waist, pulling me a little closer. After our hug, I pulled back happily. "So this means we're not fighting anymore, right?"
Harry thought about it a moment before slowly nodding in response.
"Oh, good," I replied, letting out a breath of relief, and taking his hand. Leading him back to the couch, I motioned for him to sit next to me. When he did take sink into the cushions, I began, saying, "Oh, bugger, I've missed having you to talk to, Harry! You would not believe what that prat Ernie did today." Pausing momentarily and tapping my finger against my chin, I thought carefully about my statement. "Though, surprisingly, it actually rather turned out for the better…"
Harry's arm snaked over the top of the couch to drape over my shoulders, pulling me close as I relayed my tales. I found that even though I wasn't a touchy-feely person, this didn't feel unusual or uncomfortable. It actually felt okay. And, yes, there was the small matter of that upcoming date with Billy that I had yet to cancel, and the upcoming date with Harry that I had yet to plan, but for that night, sitting on the couch with Harry Potter, mostly talking and catching up but occasionally turning on the television when the conversation lulled…it was perfect. I couldn't have asked for a better reconciliation, (or a better Tuesday night in general, really) and, ironically, I owe it all to Luna Lovegood.
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It was late.
Eleven, I guessed, judging by the programme that was currently flickering on the television. Harry would say I was too much like Dudley if I told him I knew the time because of a TV programme, I thought to myself with a wry smile, looking over at the man in question.
He was awake, but only just. His beautiful green eyes were mostly obscured by his quickly drooping eyelids, and the arm stretched around my shoulders was beginning to sag from exhaustion.
I smiled at him. He looked very innocent this way. It was rare that I could see Harry so untouched by the worries of life, not trying to solve some disaster or fight some commendable cause or another. Reaching my hand over to his face, I gently tucked a stray strand of ebony hair behind his ear. I don't know why I did it; really, it just looked like it was bothering him, swinging in front of his face like that.
When I did, his Seeker reflexes quickly caught my hand in his. Even half-awake the boy's faster than me, I thought dryly, gazing at his slowly opening eyes expectantly. "What exactly are you planning on doing with my hand?"
His eyes met mine, and then looked to where he had enclosed my hand in his own.
I had expected a simple embarrassed 'sorry', some pink cheeks, and quickly allowing my hand free. After all, that is what a hormonally stable Harry Potter would do. In short, that is what the Harry Potter B.S.M. (Before Shagging Me) would have done.
This Harry, however, was totally unpredictable. Using his grip on my hand, he tugged my body closer to him. Looking down at me tenderly, he stroked my cheek with his free hand, his other hand not allowing my hand to squirm away (not that I really had any intentions of it doing so). Murmuring gently, he whispered near my ear, "You know, 'Mione…I really missed you these past few days."
I smiled nervously. "I missed you, too."
I could feel my cheeks heating slightly. Oh, honestly, why do I always have to blush at the most bloody inopportune times? I thought to myself , face contorting in annoyance.
Harry, meanwhile, looked rather alarmed at the change in my facial expression.
"Oh," I whispered, realising that he had seen my irritated look, and quickly backtracked, saying, "I hate that I blush at the most inconvenient moments. Like now, for example."
"Why would you hate that?" Harry asked gently, placated and idly twirling one of my bushy brunette curls around his finger. "I think it's cute."
"Yeah, well, that's you, Harry. You're obviously mad," I said simply, shrugging my shoulders with a grin.
He chuckled, a deep throaty laugh that I found oddly comforting. "Obviously, indeed. Nothing can be done, I'm afraid."
"Nope," I replied with a sigh, giggling back. "Whatever should I do with your loony arse?"
He leaned in extremely close. I felt like I could feel my heart jumping in to my throat. My stomach was starting to do flip-flops. Merlin, my whole brain felt like it was buzzing…all of my senses were on overload. His face was barely inches from my own, our noses were practically touching. I could feel the rim of his glasses grazing against my forehead.
His hot breath made my skin feel like it was aflame as he slyly suggested into my ear, "You could kiss me."
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