Author's Note: I'm thrilled that this story is going over so well! This is a good bit of flashback, in the form of a dream, but I don't think that the tense of it is confusing. Let me know if I'm wrong. :D Also, we've seen in the books that Hermione has an excellent memory, which I think would account for the fact that she remembers the conversations so well. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. :lol: Reviews are always appreciated! Thanks!
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Hermione would have expected the details of the memory to have faded by now, but they hadn't. They were as sharp as ever when she dreamed about that day, and she dreamed about it often.
It had been two days since she and Harry had slept together, and Harry still blushed a little every time their eyes met. She was having a hard time concentrating on anything when he was around, and had taken to studying in her room, though it wasn't a huge help. She still found her thoughts wondering, felt her body grow warm at the memory of it all. She imagined Harry was having much the same problem as she'd caught him staring at her a couple of times, always with a very strange look in his eyes. She could have been wrong, but she thought there was more than a touch of desire in his expression.
The idea that he might want to do it again was almost more than she could handle. Of course, it was still just an idea. He hadn't actually said anything. And then, over dinner…
"Hey, Hermione, I had a question about my potions essay."
"What about it?"
"Well, I did some of the research on it and it's-it doesn't look right. I thought, if you didn't mind, you could look at it for me. Maybe after dinner."
And then he'd winked at her. It could have just been an eye twitch, she supposed, but she didn't think so. She had just stared at him for a minute, her mouth open. Was he asking what she thought he was asking?
It took her a minute, and a little uncomfortable look from Harry, to realize that she was staring and she quickly looked away, busying herself with cutting up her chicken. "Oh, sure-Harry. I'd be-happy to."
She had excused herself from the table before any of the others, rushing back upstairs to the Common Room. She wanted to brush her teeth and fix herself up a bit before she met him.
She returned to the Common Room fifteen minutes later, feeling like she looked at least marginally better. Harry was sitting at a table with Dean and Neville, watching Ron beat Seamus at Wizard's Chess. He glanced up when Hermione came in, giving her a small smile.
"If you want me to look at that paper, Harry, now would be a good time." Her voice sounded a little strained and she noticed that Harry looked a little concerned when he looked up at her again.
"Okay. Oh, I left it up in the dorm."
"Well, I'll- just come up there with you, then." She hoped that she actually sound as unconvincing as she thought she did.
She followed him up the spiral staircase to his room, her hands shaking slightly. He held the door open for her, shutting it behind them. "You got the hint, then?"
She swallowed hard. "I did. This-may not be such a good idea, though. What if-what if they come in?"
He frowned at her for a second, then shook his head. "Hermione, I didn't ask you up here to-that wasn't what I meant."
"Oh," she said, feeling her heart drop into her feet. "I guess I didn't get the hint, then"
"Why? Did you want to?"
She chewed her lip, shaking her head. "I just-What did you ask me up here for then?" She sagged onto his bed, feeling like she was about to cry.
He came over and sat next to her, staring hard at his hands. "I wanted to talk to you alone."
"Oh." She knew she sounded as disappointed as she felt. "What about?"
"Are we-we're okay, right? Everything between us is still good?"
She looked up at him, swallowing hard. "Of course it is."
"I-I thought so, I just wanted to hear it from you. It makes me feel better."
"We're fine, Harry. I swear."
He nodded, looking relieved. "Guess I should have thought about that before, huh?"
She laughed, though it was forced. "Neither of us were thinking much when it happened, and it's not like we planned it, you know. It all turned out fine though, so--."
He was looking at her, his expression shrewd. "I suppose."
"We're-going to have to tell Ron," she said, her breath catching in her throat. He was leaning toward her slightly and she had only a moment's warning before his lips met hers. A shudder ran through her as he slid his tongue between her lips, putting a hand on the back of her head to pull her in close.
She moaned involuntarily against his lips. There was something so needy in his kiss and she wanted nothing more than to give him everything he'd ever want, just to make him happy. She put up no resistance when he moved to lay her back on the bed and scooted himself up next to her. She reached her hand down to run it over his chest as he leaned over her, and he sighed softly against her lips.
He did want her again. Maybe he hadn't brought her up here for this, but that didn't mean he didn't want to do it again. He moved to pull her shirt tail out of the waistband of her skirt and she fought her strong desire to just rip his shirt open. His hand slid under her blouse and up to her breast and she arched against him.
Then there came a small gasp from the doorway and Harry broke off the kiss, jerking his head around. "Ron," he muttered, sitting up quickly.
Hermione almost didn't want to look, but she couldn't help it. Ron stood on the threshold, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open. He looked from Harry to Hermione and back again, his face paling. "What--?" he muttered, his voice rough. "No. No. No, no, no, no."
"Ron," Harry started, standing up. "This-we--."
Ron stared at him a second longer, then turned and walked away.
"Oh, bloody hell," Harry muttered, running his hand through his hair and starting for the door.
Hermione fell behind, trying to tuck her shirt back in and smooth her hair before following.
"Ron, wait," Harry called as Ron crossed the Common Room. Hermione had caught him up and was right on his heels as he got to the bottom of the stairs. Harry spared a glance around the crowded room before quickening his step to follow Ron. "Ron!"
"Leave me alone!" Ron roared, whirling to face them. "What the-How could you?" He sputtered for a moment, his face turning a deep shade of crimson. "How could you? You knew-You knew I liked her! You knew it, and you still--." He dropped his arms, his hands clenching into fists. "Did you fuck her?"
Harry's eyes widened and Hermione gasped. The room had fallen silent and every eye was on the three of them. "Ron, please. Let's go somewhere else and we'll--."
"Did you fuck her?" Ron growled, spitting each word out slowly and clearly.
Harry looked at the floor and Hermione could see a blush growing on his cheeks.
"You did," Ron muttered. "You did." He sounded shocked, and more than a little hurt. "How could you? Isn't it enough that you've fucked every other girl in the school? Did you have to have her too?"
Harry didn't raise his eyes from the floor, but his jaw tightened slightly. "Ron," Hermione said softly. "Calm down, okay? We can--."
"I reckon it's not enough for you to have everything else I ever wanted. You just couldn't be happy until you'd taken her from me too."
Hermione stepped forward, reaching for Ron's arm. "Please, Ron, if you'll just--."
Ron jerked his arm away from her, looking as though he'd just been scorched. "Don't-touch me!" he hissed. He turned his glare back on Harry. "I wish I'd never met you," he snapped. "I wish Voldemort had done you in when you were a kid. I wish he would have killed you just like he killed your parents."
"Ronald!" Hermione gasped, feeling her heart stop in her chest. "You don't mean that!"
"Like hell I don't. The world would be a better place without him in it."
Hermione just stared at him, open-mouthed. Harry, however, was trembling with anger. "You stupid, selfish bastard," he hissed, stepping up so he was nose to nose with Ron. "You would think this is all about you. It has nothing to do with you! The world doesn't revolve around Ron Weasley, and it never will."
"No, because it revolves around you, doesn't it?" Ron snapped back, towering over Harry in his rage. "Everything's all about you, isn't it? If it weren't for Harry Potter none of us would be here. If it weren't for Harry Potter, Voldemort would be killing people everyday. Well guess what? He's back and I don't see you stopping him. Some fucking hero you are! You can't stop him. He's going to shoot you down like a dog and keep going. He killed your parents and he's going to kill you, and I only hope I'm there to see it."
Harry's nostrils were flaring, his teeth clenched so tight that Hermione swore they would crack. "You won't be, and do you know why? Because you're a coward. If you got anywhere near Voldemort, you'd piss your britches like a little girl. You're second rate, Ron, and you always will be."
"Harry!" Hermione screeched. "Don't say that!"
"If you think I'm second rate to you, mate, you've got another think coming. You're nothing. You think people give a shit about you? You're supposed to be their salvation. If you fail, they'll spit on your grave. And I'll still be around to laugh about it." He glanced at Hermione, his lip trembling just slightly. "I hope it was worth it, Hermione. I hope he was worth it." He stepped back from Harry, his eyes still on hers. "I'd have loved you."
Hermione jerked awake, tears stinging her eyes. The dream always left her heart-broken and aching, and it always left her wishing. Wishing she had said something, wishing they hadn't said those thing to each other, wishing that she had never went up to Harry's room that day.
Maybe if Ron hadn't walked in on them, it would have been different. Or if she could have stopped Harry from saying the things he did. Maybe if--.
It made no difference now, though. It had happened and she couldn't fix it now. She shut her eyes and wrapped her arms tight around her chest. It would have undoubtedly ended up the same, even if she had done something then. They would have had to tell Ron the truth, and he still would have been angry. Most likely, he'd have left school and moved back to the Burrow either way. He certainly would have been just as angry at Harry. Of course, Harry may not have been just as angry at Ron.
Why had he said those things? Why couldn't he just let it go?
No, it all came back to the same thing. They had slept together, and that had set everything in motion. She would have had to stop that to keep the rest from snowballing, and despite the end results, that was something she wasn't willing to take back. Not that she could, of course, but given the choice to do it all over-yes, she would do it all again.
Harry's face floated past her mind's eye and she had to smile. She hadn't told him the whole truth, but it wasn't exactly time for that. He wasn't ready to hear that she had been madly in love with him then, or that she still was. She wasn't going to tell him, either. She was never going to tell him.
She'd realized long ago that it could never happen. She could never be with him. It had nearly killed her to admit it to herself, but she had always known it.
Harry had to live his life, as much as he could do. If he knew that she was still in love with him, he would try, out of sheer nobility, to make her happy. He wasn't completely selfless, but she knew that it would tear him apart to know she wanted to be with him, especially considering that he didn't want to be with her.
He didn't love her. He cared for her, she knew that. He would still give his life for her without a second thought, if he had to. He would do anything she ever asked him to. And if she asked him to love her back, he would try. And if he realized that he still didn't, he would pretend to. Somehow, she just knew that.
She refused to put him through that.
He'd agreed to go with her, no matter how grudgingly, to see Ron. He wasn't happy about it, but she'd known that, if she asked him to please do it for her, he would never refuse her.
So, they were planning the trip. Harry had insisted that, if he were going on a holiday, he was going to enjoy it. As much of it as he could, at least. So, they had taken a month off from their respective jobs and were planning to travel, like Muggles, by car. It wouldn't take them a month to get to Ron's of course, but Harry had insisted that they drive around the country a little, to take in the sights and relax a little. He had planned out the route, refusing to tell her anything.
He was due to pick her up at half eight the next morning, and her bags were already laying by the front door.
She glanced at the clock by her bed and sighed. It was only a little after three, and she doubted that she'd be able to go back to sleep. She rolled onto her side and stared out the window at the night sky. She was going to be spending a month with Harry. An entire month. It both excited and scared her.
On one hand, they were still very close friends, and she loved being with him. On the other, it would provide a hundred or more opportunities for her to do something really stupid. She'd spent the better part of the last week telling herself that she would not sleep with him. She wouldn't kiss him, she wouldn't let him kiss her. She wouldn't go into his room at night, even just to talk. She wouldn't think of even sitting on his bed. She wouldn't touch him, she wouldn't flirt with him, she wouldn't…
I won't, she thought, trying to force some conviction into the thought. I won't, I won't, I won't.
But what if he did? Would she stop him if he did?
He wouldn't. Not after all this time, not now that he knew the truth about their first time together. He wouldn't.
He hadn't even tried to kiss her since the argument with Ron. Well, okay, on the cheek but that didn't count. And sure, he was still a little-well, affectionate with her, still tended to grab onto her hand from time to time, had no problem hugging her or putting his arm around her waist, but they were friends. It didn't really mean anything. He was used to her, that was all.
It still sent chills up her spine, though, and that was the problem. And it was a huge problem.