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I May Hate Myself in the Morning
Mei Queen
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Authoress' Note: This one wound up being a little short, but not too much. Review anyway; you know how I love them!
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LAST CHAPTER:
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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Chapter 4: Bumps
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I gulped nervously, savouring the feeling of his breath on my cheek, the anticipation of what would be happening in just a few short minutes...
Leaning in a little closer, I began to close the distance between us, eager to feel the wonderful familiar sensation of his soft lips caressing mine. Reaching a hand up to tangle in his hair, my movements froze upon hearing an altogether unwelcome sound.
Wait…what was that?
No. This can't be happening. But… it apparently was happening, because Harry was starting to pull away. He had heard it, too. The it to which I'm referring was a key jiggling in the front door, the same door that was now creaking open to admit our best friend. Sighing, I retreated to the other side of the couch, clutching a pillow for all it was worth and thinking of all the ways I would get revenge on Ronald Weasley for his incredibly impeccable timing.
"Am I interrupting something?" Ron asked with a lewd grin plastered to his face, setting his Quidditch gear on the ground by his feet. I knew how this must look to him, his two best mates on opposite edges of the couch, hair slightly askew, breathing a bit off, cheeks more than a little red…
Even he can put two and two together, it seems. Meanwhile, Harry was simply avoiding everyone's eyes. Why do I have to answer everything? Is Harry planning on taking the initiative on "us"…ever?
Meeting his eyes fiercely, I got up, practically spitting, "No, Ron. You're not interrupting a thing."
Storming out of the room, I made sure to slam the bedroom door behind me. There. That showed them.
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"Hermione, you're being silly," Harry called through the door ten minutes later. I, meanwhile, was curled up on the bed with a pillow, decidedly ignoring him, too frustrated with Ron's interruption to care what he really had to say. "Hermione, I know you're listening to me…"
Okay, maybe I was. Doesn't mean I'm going to say anything back, Harry.
"'Mione, you need to at least let me in, that is my bedroom, after all."
Oh right. I forgot I'd been sleeping on the couch. Oops.
Getting up and carefully summoning my dignity, I opened the door slowly. "Is Ron still out there?"
"Yeah," Harry replied softly. "Do you think he knows?"
"I don't know," I replied honestly, allowing Harry to motion me back into his bedroom, shutting the door softly behind us. "He will eventually have to, though, right?"
"Yeah," he whispered, meeting my chocolate eyes with his inviting green. "Eventually."
Harry backed me up against the door, until I heard the soft click against my back, signalling that it was shut tight. I could barely think. Harry's face was mere inches from my own; his entire body extremely close, too…every bit of me was quivering with anticipation.
I idly noted Harry's right hand trailing down to the doorknob, from which I heard a definite click. Harry Potter had me behind a locked door, I mentally noted in awe. I couldn't help the smile spreading wide across my face when his lips got ever closer.
This time, there was no Ron to muck things up.
Harry's lips met mine, caressing, enfolding, licking, nipping, doing all sorts of things that are too marvellous for mere words to do justice. I moaned softly as his kisses began a steamy trail down to the nape of my neck. God, he was even better to kiss sober, I noted with excitement, thoroughly enjoying every moment of his talented mouth (and tongue)'s attentions.
"What do you say we get you on the bed, Ms Granger?" Harry asked with a grin, his emerald eyes alighting playfully.
"After you, Mr Potter," I replied evenly, giggling slightly as I did so. Good God, did I just giggle? I can't help it, Harry makes me feel like a giddy schoolgirl sometimes…though I wasn't actually giddy as a schoolgirl, but that's hardly the point…
Refocusing, my eyes trailed excitedly to where Harry was propped up on his down pillows, body spread across his navy comforter, arms wide and beckoning me over. Grinning, I ran to him, ending up encased in his strong arms…all in all, not the worst place to be.
My breath hitched slightly as I felt his finger begin to trail up my thigh. His lips found mine again as his fingers started the challenging task of unbuttoning my blouse. Feeling my excitement begin to build, I reached over to loosen his shirt from his jeans.
"What are you guys doing in there?" Ron Weasley yelled, knocking loudly on his best mate's door.
I groaned softly, going in for a few more kisses before sitting up to right my blouse. "I should probably sleep on the couch, Harry. Ron's home and all," I whispered, looking into his mirror with exasperation. My hair was totally all over the place. Wonderful.
"Yeah, if that's what you want, 'Mione."
I sighed. "It's not what I want, Harry," I answered simply, meeting his eyes. "What I want is to stay here with you. But until this…well…us gets a little less confusing, don't you think it's wiser not to bring Ron into the equation? Do we really need that extra pressure right now?"
He let out the breath he'd been holding, shaking his head. "I don't know why it is, 'Mione, but you seem incapable of being wrong," he replied with a gradual chuckle, taking my hand and starting to walk with me back to his bedroom door. Unlocking it, he exchanged a few choice words with Ron (that I couldn't overhear…not for lack of trying, however) before opening it to let me pass.
I stalled in the doorway, looking up and meeting his eyes with a smile. "Good night, Harry."
He leaned in to get one last kiss, before grudgingly murmuring, "Good night, 'Mione."
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"What are you doing in there, Hermione?" Harry Potter bellowed through the bathroom door the next morning. His knocking and yelling was beginning to irritate me slightly, actually. Why couldn't he just come in if he wanted to brush his teeth? We do have a shower curtain, thank you. Why he had all of a sudden become overly sensitive to my nudity, well, that I really didn't understand. He had seen me naked plenty of times the past week alone, mostly due to high levels of alcohol in my bloodstream, so why he had suddenly become overly proper, well…
"I'm building a rocket, Harry. What the hell do you think that I'm doing?" I shouted irritably over the pounding water. Ahh…nice shower, that's exactly what I need. Perfect to erase all the stress from this quasi-relationship with Harry, the thought of breaking the date with Billy, the worry of how much Ron has figured out and what he thinks of whatever it is that he knows… yes…hot water. Perfect solution.
Leaning back against the tiled wall, I closed my eyes in relaxation, trying to mentally block out Harry's persistent knocking. There's a nice stream, clear sky, green grass, wildflowers, butterflies…and Harry. But he's not knocking. He's feeding me a strawberry. Now he's running a hand up and down my leg…and we're in a hotel bed with satin sheets. What happened to the stream? Eh, who cares! Mmm…that's lovely…
Knock.
I'm not listening, Harry, I'm picturing you and me in a hotel room with no redheads to interrupt us…
Knock Knock.
I guess I should get this shower finished with or we'll both be late for work.
Sighing and slowly shaking myself out of my reverie, I reached down to grab the soap. I had just gotten done lathering my legs when the ruddy bar slipped out of my hands. Fabulous, I mentally groaned, leaning down to pick it up. Now, I don't really know exactly what happened between 1) leaning to pick up the bar, and 2) Harry busting the door down to find me naked and unconscious slumped in the tub, but the Healer from St. Mungo's guesses that I slipped on the soap and almost cracked my skull on the tiled wall. Apparently, ironically enough, it happens a lot more often than films make it seem.
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"'Mione? Can you hear me?"
I blinked. White. Everything was …white. Oh my God…did I lose my eyesight? How am I supposed to read without my eyesight? Dear Lord, I think I'm going to have a panic attack. Turning and angling my head slightly, my eyes fell on…dark raven hair. Concerned emerald eyes.
Oh, good. No lost vision, then.
"Huh?" was the most intellectual response I could manage. Not exactly Proust, but it's a start, I mentally quipped, rubbing my eyes to get the sleep out of them. Hands trailing up to my tresses, my eyes widened when I realized what frightening angles my unwashed locks were currently standing up at. Attempting to smooth the bushy curls slightly, my cheeks reddened when Harry noticed what I was doing.
Snorting with laughter, he mused, "I can't believe it. You're in a hospital bed, and the first thing you do is fixing your hair? You are not the Hermione I used to know? What have you done with my best mate, eh?"
I giggled. "Actually, the first thing I did was wonder if I'd died or gone blind, because either of those involves no reading, and that's simply unacceptable. Besides, if we weren't…er…us…if…you were Ron, I wouldn't be fixing my hair."
Harry guffawed at my predictability, clutching his sides in stitches of laughter, occasionally bringing a hand up to wipe a tear from his squinting eyes. "Oh, so it's all my fault, then?"
"Pretty much."
More guffawing.
That's right, I'll be here all week, I thought with an inward self-satisfied smirk. More than likely, I will be here all week, if the pain at the back of my skull is any possible indication… "Harry, has anyone contacted my work?"
"Yeah, I called when I came in here with you. It's really convenient we both work at the Ministry, you know?"
"Why is that?" I asked suspiciously, quirking an eyebrow upward. Did he skive off work for me? I don't want him to go to that much trouble just for me, that's ridiculous…okay…well, I don't mind his company or anything, but…it seems an awful lot of trouble for him to go to. He had better not lose his job, I'll be furious with him.
"I told them I wouldn't be coming in until you were out of here," he replied decisively, reclining in his chair and letting his gaze trail the other direction.
I could feel my cheeks heat slightly. "Are you sure, Harry? That's a lot of trouble for you to have to go to, just for me, anyhow."
"It's no trouble at all, 'Mione. You know that I'd do anything for you and Ron without a second thought," Harry replied, waving off the flattery. Well, that would have been much sweeter if he hadn't included Ron, I thought darkly, allowing my gaze to trail out the window and expelling a sigh.
My stomach began doing flip-flops when I felt him reach over and take my hand. Satisfied that he had my full attention when I turned to meet his gaze, he whispered, "Especially you, 'Mione. You know that."
One hand playing idly with the plastic hospital wristband around my other wrist, I could feel my lips travel slowly in to a smile. Deciding to change the topic before my face got any redder (which was seeming close to impossible at the moment), I cleared my throat before asking, "Where's Ron at?"
"He'd already left for practice when you fell. I called his mobile, but it keeps going straight to voicemail. I've left a few messages. Who knows, maybe he's out with a bird we don't know about," Harry finished with a sly wink, allowing one of his legs to rest on the opposite knee, which actually looked quite attractive (not that I was noticing or anything, really). "So, now that you're up, would you like a coffee? I hear the cafeteria here actually has a pretty decent caffeine fix…"
I grinned, sitting up slightly more in the bed. "Now you're speaking my language."
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"Hermione Jayne Granger?" A portly brunette Healer asked, knocking before entering the room solely occupied by Harry Potter and I. (He was on the chair, thank you. You can stop those dirty thoughts this instant.)
"That's me!" I replied cheerfully, leaning back against the pillows and sipping the coffee from the plastic cup Harry had brought me. While we had sipped our coffees, Harry had so kindly informed me on what had happened after I had fell. Apparently, he rushed to get me clothed (since I was unconscious, this was actually far more difficult than it sounds), Apparated with me, gotten me set up with a room where a Healer did a full evaluation of my wounds involving extensive x-rays and whatnot, before a team of Healers helped to get me conscious and diagnosed the reason they thought I was there in the first place. Now I was having a follow-up evaluation with the head of that team of Healers, a squat witch named Maria Brown.
"I'm sorry, sir, but the results of the follow-up evaluation are confidential. Standard hospital procedure," the witch murmured apologetically. "If you wait in the hall, I can get you on my wait out."
"That's fine," he replied agreeably, giving my hand a friendly squeeze before closing the door behind him, leaving me alone in the room with the Healer. My gaze travelled over to where she was, her eyes trained dutifully on her clipboard. Something about her seemed …off. Nervous, almost. Uh-oh…this can't be good.
"Ms Granger, certain…er…facts came to my attention during your evaluation. Normally simple head bumps like yours are ones that we can clear up in two hours, tops. Were you wondering why we've decided you need to stay overnight?"
"Because I hit my head really hard on the tile?" I asked, nervously twirling a hair around my index finger and wishing she would just get on with it, she was making me way too nervous.
"No, that's not it at all, actually the damage was very minor. We've decided to keep you to observe the damage to the fetus."
"The…fetus? There must be some sort of mistake."
"I assure you, there isn't. We had our suspicions when we did the x-ray. Upon a simple blood test, our suspicions were confirmed. You are definitely pregnant. Our mediwitches guess at most you're only about three weeks along, however," she replied evenly, meeting my eyes sympathetically.
"But…that's just can't be possible," I murmured, shaking my head. I had never been irresponsible. I used the birth control potion, I used condoms, and I was always safe. How the hell could something like this happen to me? I was always responsible, careful. I'm supposed to be "the most brilliant witch of my year", how the hell did I accidentally get pregnant?
Suddenly, an icy-cold wave of recognition washed over me. Harry.
We were too pissed to remember to use protection.
Oh… My… God.
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"So, what's up, 'Mione? What was so 'secret' that she couldn't say it in front of me?" Harry asked with a broad grin, walking over and giving me a wink as the Healer shut the door behind her, her eyes still looking at me, etched with concern.
"I'm pregnant," I said in a deadpan voice, staring idly off at the ceiling.
His eyes widened. "Are you serious?"
Okay. I had two choices- I could tell Harry Potter, the man that I was really attracted to, hell, might even love, that he was going to be a daddy before we'd even had out legitimate first date, or…I could lie. I could lie to within an inch of my life. "Of course I'm kidding!" I replied, simultaneously mustering my best fake smile. "I got you, didn't I?"
"Hell yes, you did. Do you know how fast my heart was beating right then, 'Mione? Good God, don't do that again!"
"I won't," I whispered, leaning back on the pillows, allowing a hand underneath the covers to travel to my abdomen. Rubbing it slowly, I allowed my thoughts to travel elsewhere. What did I want to do with it? Was I ready to be a mother? Should I try to go through the courtship with Harry like nothing was wrong? Maybe we would get it together anyway on our own, after all. But the more pressing question- was I going to keep it?
"Knock, knock," one of the candy striper assistants said aloud, knocking with her fist while she did so. I'll never understand this peculiar habit of people. Why say "knock" aloud when you're already physically knocking? Bizarre. Anyhow.
The candy striper, a busty blonde, was carrying a beautiful flower arrangement that looked roughly twice her size.
"Wow," I murmured. "Thank you…"
Trailing off, I searched for her nametag. Among the cheerful candy-apple red and pristine white was a nametag reading, "Marissa…ask me how I can help!"
"Thanks, Marissa."
"You're very welcome, and here's the card," she replied brightly, handing me a small card with a drawing on the front. It was actually very cute, all things considered. But I had a bad feeling about this card…who do I know that would be sending it? Why would Harry get me flowers when he'd been waiting with me the whole time? That's just excessive. And Ron didn't seem to even register that we existed, he wasn't picking up his mobile. And yet, I had flowers…well, actually, the term "flowers" doesn't do justice to the size of this thing… I had my own tree right in my room.
Leaning slightly the other direction so Harry couldn't see the writing inside, I cautiously opened it slightly.
Peeking in, I read:
Hermione-
I heard about your injury from Ernie. I'm so sorry, I'll understand if you want to postpone our date.
Just relax and feel better, I hope you like the flowers. Call me when you feel up to it =D
Best wishes and get well soon!
Love, Billy
558-6393
Oh, for goodness' sake.
I wonder if Marissa can help by getting one bloke out of my life, one bloke more into said life, and make a pregnancy fit into my tightening work schedule…oh, and find me a great flat with a decent view and room for Crookshanks, while that crazy miracle worker is doing her thing? That would be fab.
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"Oh, who the fuck am I kidding?" I shouted two weeks later, seated resignedly behind my desk at work. I had shut the door to my office, allowing me the time to vent that the past two weeks really had not afforded me. During my hospital stay, I had asked the Healers to act with the utmost of discretion about my pregnancy, but even Harry was getting a bit confused as to why they continually fed me, checked my nutrition levels, kept me overnight for four weeks before diagnosing an extra week of bed rest…
"It's just a head bump," I had heard him murmuring to Ron one night while I was pretending to be sleeping (the Healers were very generous with the amount of time the boys could spend in my room. I'm pretty sure it had something to do with one of them being "Harry Potter, the Saviour of the Wizarding World"…after all, "The Boy Who Lived" was getting so cliché). "Why the hell are they keeping her so long? Her little head scratch is nothing compared to that time I had to re-grow my bones, that time your dad got bit by the snake…but they're keeping her longer!"
"I dunno, mate. Maybe it's because she's a girl or summat," Ron replied simply. "I personally choose not to boggle my brain with such useless questions. Just accept it, as it is, Harry- one of the mysteries of life. Like who sent that tree to 'Mione, for example."
"One of the mysteries of life to you is how long they keep patients in St. Mungo's?"
Anyway.
Now I was back at work, furiously trying to catch up on all the work I had missed in the fortnight I'd been gone. Occasionally my thoughts strayed to the life that was starting in my stomach, and I knew- I couldn't get rid of it. Abortion just was not an option. This was…this was Harry and me. This baby was the product of about fifteen years of friendship, mixed in with a bit of alcohol, and a bit of suppressed desires…I definitely wanted to raise this child.
But how the hell was I supposed to tell Harry that? "Oh, by the way, Harry…that one time we shagged? Yeah…I've got good news. You're not impotent." Nah…might come off a bit too snarky. "Congratulations, Daddy!" A tad bit too sudden, I think.
Wait. I know someone who can help me sort this out. Frantically turning back to my desk, I began to shift all my carefully designated piles of paperwork. I pulled a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I murmured in annoyance, "Where is that bloody card? I can't have lost it already, I haven't even been here for two weeks…"
Finally, I found what I was looking for. There, somewhere between the Hunt for Unicorns Petition and Pixie Rights paperwork, was a business card. Luna Lovegood. Chairwoman of QARO.
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My finger tapped nervously on the desk. She had said in her owl she'd be here fifteen minutes ago. I really needed to talk to someone, I felt like I was about to explode, the secret was killing me. I couldn't tell Harry, that much was definite. I couldn't tell Ron until Harry and I decided to take things public. I couldn't tell Ginny for the same reason as Ron. I certainly couldn't tell Billy, who had already called work twice today. I was dodging his calls. I really needed to break our date, but I've never been too great at that type of conversation (I've usually been the dumpee in the past, you see), so I wanted to avoid him until I was positive I knew exactly what I wanted to say.
"C'mon, Luna…" I muttered, checking my clock nervously while idly shifting some papers around on my desk. I hadn't actually gotten any work done since I sent the owl off for Luna this morning, though; it had been damn near impossible. I found it difficult to concentrate on anything but the life growing within me, on Harry, on what the hell I was planning on telling Harry, for that matter…
I was relieved when, a few moments later, I heard a knock at my door. Smiling, I got up from my office chair to let in a bewildered Luna. "Come on in."
She looked at me suspiciously before following me in to the office. Taking a seat, her eyes followed me to my own chair.
"What's wrong, Hermione? Your letter made this seem like a total emergency."
"It kinda is," I replied nervously, exhaling and trying to steady my breath as I took the chair opposite the blonde. My thumbs twiddled anxiously as I decidedly avoided contact with her probing watery cerulean eyes.
"Oh, boy. For some reason, I have a feeling this will be so much worse than shagging your best friend, then accepting a date with another bloke while still living in said best friend's flat," Luna deadpanned, reclining in her chair and eyeing me cautiously.
I sighed. "For some reason, I think you're right."
Taking a deep steadying breath in, my eyes met Luna's upon exhaling. Wracking my brain for the start of the whole situation, I apprehensively began with, "It all started with the oddest mishap in the shower…"
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Authoress' Note (Take Two): haha, now you're all going- "Bumps…now I get why this chapter is called that!" And if not, head bumps and baby bumps? Lol okay maybe that's only amusing to me…how sad…