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Bittersweet by bubblegumlocks
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Bittersweet

bubblegumlocks

I woke up with Hermione's hair in my mouth and a tapping at the window. My glasses were cracked on the floor and sometime during the night I had twisted and turned until I lay stretched out on the couch. Hermione was still sleeping on top of me, her head on her hands and my arms wrapped around her. Immediately I blushed and willed myself to not think about her warm body on top of mine. I frantically searched for my wand or hers to open the window before she woke up. The window opened and the owl deposited two letters on Hermione's back then flew away. Perplexed, I watched it go.

Hermione lifted her head up and blushed as she pulled her hair back. "Sorry about that." She sat up and stretched, her shirt rising a bit. My mouth went dry at the peek of skin and the sight of her so relaxed. I abruptly sat up and scooped the letters from the floor where they had fallen. I handed Hermione hers and opened mine.

Dear Mr. Potter,

It is with grave duty and many thoughts that I humbly ask you to consider the honour of accepting the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this fall.

I feel you are a worthy candidate and I would greatly like to see you join us on September 1st.

However, I understand any reluctance you might have and I ask that you give this due consideration. Please send an owl back with your decision no later than August 15th.

Thank you and sincerely,

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall

I sat, stunned. Professor? I shook my head. McGonagall was mad. I was barely out of Hogwarts myself, and to be teaching? I still knew some of the seventh years. I glanced over at Hermione, who wore the same expression I felt.

I raised my eyebrows and she shook her head. She unfolded the letter again and reread it. She folded it back up and set it down, only to pick it back up again.

"I've just been offered Librarianship of Hogwarts," she said evenly, still shocked. "Professor McGonagall says Madam Pince wishes to retire and build a summer home with Filch." We both flinched at the thought. "She said that no one else knew and loved the library like I did." She stared at the wall. "Librarianship," she whispered.

I wordlessly handed her my letter. If she had been a weaker person I knew she would have fallen to the floor in her shock. "Professor?"

"That's what I said. Me, professor?"

"But you'd be brilliant. Remember the DA?" I did. I also remembered my general reluctance to teach at first, then how much I enjoyed it. I shrugged.

"I'm considering it. It's not like I have anything better to do."

She scoffed. "Oh Harry, teaching is a wonderful idea! Think of all the things you could teach and learn!" Her eyes shone. I chuckled.

"Oy, what about you? Think of all the books you could touch, and read!" I mocked. We were silent for a moment. "Well?"

"I don't know."

"Hermione, just the other day you knew you couldn't be a Healer anymore. Why not try this? It's something that you've always loved. You'd still be helping people, just in a different way."

She nudged me. "You too, Harry. Teaching is a lot more helpful than keeping a library organized."

I frowned. "I'd say they go hand in hand. What if the teacher assigned outside reading, or set an essay on an impossible subject?" I coughed 'Snape'. She scoffed. "Then what? How will the students find the books they need if they aren't organized? Without you it could take months for a student to finish an essay."

She grinned and threw up her hands. "All right. I'll consider it."

I smiled and reached for my letter back. I had two weeks to decide if I wanted to teach, and if I did, to convince Hermione to join me at Hogwarts.

~*~

A week passed and neither of us said anything about Hogwarts to the other. We tiptoed around the subject, both of us. She'd make some offhand comment about the DA and we'd look at each other. The subject would drop immediately. Or I'd mention the Black Library was terribly unorganized. I think we got tired of each other, actually. I knew I was actively considering it. I found myself in Diagon Alley one afternoon, checking out Flourish and Blotts' selection of Defense texts. Hermione put in her resignation, though I'm not sure if that was because she was tired of being a Healer, or if she was considering Hogwarts.

The night before our replies were due we sat on the couch together. We looked everywhere but at each other: the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Finally, I had to break the silence. "Well, if -"

"How about -"

I started laughing and turned to face her. She nodded at me and I spoke first. "I will if you will," shrugging my shoulders. In truth, I was looking forward to being back at Hogwarts again. It had always seemed like my home, more so than anywhere else. Headmistress McGonagall had given me the perfect solution for my boredom and frustration, if only Hermione agreed. Hogwarts was safe and familiar. Hermione would be protected even when I couldn't watch over her.

She erupted in giggles. I just sat there, my mouth hanging open in shock. She slowed and then looked at my expression and started all over again. Hermione. Giggling. I think I needed to call in the Prophet for that one.

So I did what any best friend would do. I stood up from the couch with a huff, pretending to be angry. When she calmed down a little, I turned to her with a maniacal grin and proceeded to tickle her. Yes, I, Harry James Potter, owned Hermione. I tickled her until she cried then I let up. She was half beneath me, breathing hard from laughter. Our eyes locked and I could feel her breath tickling my cheek. I couldn't help but lick my lips and I knew she was looking at mine.

I took a deep breath and sat back. "So, I guess that's a yes then." She wrinkled her brow. "Hogwarts?" She smiled and nodded, still on her back and flushed. I had to look away quickly.

She got up to leave the room, only to return with parchment and quills. We wrote letters of acceptance to the Headmistress, our new boss, and sent them with my owl. We grinned at each other, excited, as he flew out the window.

~*~

In the morning, we found replies from the Headmistress. She was glad we had accepted and gave us our instructions. She also sent me the previous years' lesson plans so I could see what my students had covered. I was given a schedule of who and when my classes would be and when Hogsmeade weekends were. I also was told to pick out a text for each year quickly so she could send out letters to the students.

Hermione and I spent the day together in Diagon Alley. I was able to find the texts I needed after subtle hints from McGonagall and actual ideas from Hermione. We stopped by the twins' shop before returning home for dinner. They gave me a new catalog and showed us their latest products.

We apparated home and resumed our normal positions on the couch. Hermione was leaning against me engrossed in a new book while I made notes on the old lesson plans. The benefit of having Hermione at Hogwarts was she could always help with lesson plans.

~*~

I didn't remember falling asleep and I sure as hell didn't remember falling asleep with Hermione in my arms. Again. The last thing I remembered was closing my eyes after writing a tentative test in for my third years. I had planned to open my eyes to continue with my fourth years. Next thing I knew, I was on the couch on my back. With Hermione in my arms. Again.

Not only that but her shirt had ridden up and I could see her back. In fact, one of my hands was resting on her bare back. I tried not to flinch as I pulled it away. My palm burned from touching her skin. Okay. Hermione's my best friend. I have seen her in a swimsuit (don't go there) and I've touched her skin before. I honestly hoped that this, my affliction, would go away before I exploded (not a good mental image right now).

I couldn't help it, but my breathing increased. I was surprised that she hadn't woken up to see the panic written across my face. I wanted nothing more than to be near her and it was torture. I wanted to move out from under her but I didn't want her to wake up in my arms. Again. I closed my eyes and counted backwards from ten. I pictured Remus in a dress, Snape in a dress. I was still breathing fast. I told myself to snap out of it and then she moved. And whimpered. She actually whimpered. She, in fact, moved herself around until she was in between me and the couch, her leg hooked around mine and an arm draped over me. I sighed in relief. She had moved herself to a position that I could ease out of without waking her up.

I stood in front of the couch and watched her. Her hair, unruly from sleep, covered the better part of her face. One graceful hand rested elegantly on the couch. She had molded herself to the couch and her hair was everywhere and I still thought her beautiful. I watched as she adjusted herself again; her hand now rested on her abdomen as she slept peacefully on her back.

I left her to cook breakfast. I brought in the tray just as she woke, and the surprised smile on her face was worth the panic of the morning.

A/N: Okay, it's a short, lame chapter. I needed to get them to this point somehow, so there we have it. I apologize for it's extreme lameness and lack of going anywhere. But the next chapter will actually have a point. Or at least I hope it will.