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Want by goodhumorgal
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Want

goodhumorgal

Want. Part 2.

Note: Hermione's point of view. Also takes things a bit farther.

Sorry about my jumping of tenses, I've always had that problem…

I honestly couldn't remember where my mind had flown off to or why it had left me in a situation in which I needed it desperately. I was sure my mouth was open, but nothing would come out. If I truly thought about, I would've been very glad that my thoughts stayed in because if they hadn't, my secret would be out.

I had feelings for Harry Potter.

Feelings. I refused to call it anything else. Why should I? It wasn't as if it was anything else. At least, not anything else that began with the letter `L'. And ended in `ove'. No. Definitely not. It was all well and good for the heroines in dime-store romance novels to fall for that sort of thing while their knight in shining armor whisked them away. But in the real world? Things of that nature rarely happened, and I was not one to rely on a lax probability.

So I stood there in the middle of Ron's living room staring at Harry, musing that perhaps I should ask for a dance. Ron was shouting about how much food there was ("I love these cookie things!") and for a second our eyes met and the dance is a reality. I've always had something of a `Harry Radar' that beeps incessantly whenever something's wrong. Maybe that's really what this dance was all about, comfort.

A huge Harry-grin spreads on his face, the kind that makes the girls swoon when they see their pull-outs from `Witch Weekly'. For a second I think I'm swooning too because my vision is going blurry and surely there is NO OTHER reason why this would be happening? And then I realize I'm not becoming a fangirl, it's just that I've drifted so close to him that nothing's in focus anymore. But it's ok because his shirt smells so wonderful and I think if I closed my eyes I could stay like this forever.

I sound like a sap.

Perhaps the novels are right. Maybe normal people can have knights too.

-------

The radar is beeping again only this time I'm ignoring it as best I can. A glance at the clock tells me that not even the most competitive of early birds are up yet. A sigh escapes as I realize that I'm not going to be getting any sleep until I've satisfied the horrible internal alarm.

Before I even realize it I'm knocking on the door of Harry's flat exercising a patience that I could only hold with him. The door opens and he stands there, looking at me in shock. For a second I become self-conscious, touching my hair and forgetting that I'm not here to impress. I waltz in without a word, letting him shut the door behind me. No one has said anything yet and I suppose it's better that way. Pulling him down next to me on the couch I wrap my arms around him and he sighs. This is how it's always been.

He smiles when I look up at him and for just a second my heart flutters. It's not a painful thump although from previous experiences I'm thankful for that. Kissing him on the temple I question softly,

"What's wrong?"

He looks at me and I wish I could read everything he's thinking. With Harry it's like some secret code that's constantly running. Brinks Security has nothing on this boy.

"I don't really know. But I'm glad you're here."

I'm glad too. He smells like soap and it's comforting just to sit here on the couch with him and hear his heart beating. I can feel his gaze nearly scorching me so I chance a look up.

My breath catches in my throat and I damn my windpipe. His voice is a hoarse whisper,

"Will you stay the night?"

Merlin. Harry is trying to kill me. It's the only explanation really. Why else would he do that?

"Y…yes."

He looks surprised, and relieved I suppose. Before I can even think about what I've just agreed to he's picked me up honeymoon-style and is carrying me towards the bedroom. My arms circle his neck and I desperately hope this will not turn out to be a mistake. I'm laid softly on the bed and a moment later I feel the bed creak under his weight as he rolls on.

We had done this so many times at Hogwarts but here, in Harry's flat, there's something so much more intimate about it. I sigh and roll over to meet him halfway, burying my face in his shirted chest. His arm comes protectively around my waist and I wonder if he knows what he's doing. I wonder if he knows what I'm doing. What are we doing?

The last thought to cross my mind before I drift off is, `Why does this feel so right?'

-------

I can't stop laughing and it's all his fault. The first thing I woke up too was a happy grin on Harry's face which should have told me immediately: Run. But I didn't and suddenly his hands are on my waist tickling me until I can't breathe and the only word flashing across my mind is, `MERCY'. He's laughing too although I haven't gotten the proper chance to make him suffer. Finally when I think my guts are going to combust leaving Harry with only a shell of a girl he stops and I'm scurrying off to the loo.

I look at myself in the mirror. I'm a mess.

"You look lovely dear, but I hope you brought along a brush."

I roll my eyes at the mirror and peek out the door. Harry is nowhere in sight so I quietly sneak out. Of course, auror Harry attacks and I fall against the wall desperately attempting to slip out of his grasp. No such luck apparently. He's still grinning as he lifts me over his shoulder and walks the short distance to the kitchen.

"Harry Potter! You will PAY for this," I pause a minute and then add, "through the nose!"

"Through the nose?" I can only imagine the look on his face. "That sounds right disgusting. I never thought you were that sort of gal Hermione. Kinky."

He sets me down but I'm in too much of a state of shock to run away. Still laughing at the look on my face he proceeds to the cupboards and inquires, "So, do you like pancakes?"

I'm still at a bit of a loss for words but I manage, "No. I abhor them." Now he rolls his eyes and grabs the nearest spatula. I sit on a stool pondering exactly what is going on here.

Harry's cooking me breakfast. After I stayed the night. In his bed.

But not like that, I chide myself. Although it's hard to remind my mind that it was all completely platonic. Completely.

The pancakes are ready sooner than I am prepared for. Harry has always been the better chef than me which provides endless jokes for he and Ron. I find that I'm not too hungry so Harry finishes my portion for me. The radar is giving me the `all clear' signal but I ask again,

"Are you going to be ok?"

He smiles and takes my hand,

"Oh definitely." He's grinning again but this time I chance it and grin back. He stands up and grabs me around the waist for a huge bear hug. My arms are around his neck as I hug him equally hard back. I'm fighting the feeling that it feels wonderful and that maybe if I pretend to break my ankle I can stay longer. I could ask to stay, but then I would be chasing myself back to the `L' word again. Can't have any of that. A part of me aches and I can't let go of him. Just a few more moments I promise myself, maybe one or two.

He hasn't let go either.

And then slowly I'm slipping down his body as our hug ends. His hand comes out for a moment to brush away a stray hair from my face but instead of feeling self-conscious this time I smile and lean in to kiss his cheek.

Ever so slightly he turns his head.

I meet his lips.

My head goes fuzzy, my brain has left the building, and I wouldn't trade the moment for all the galleons in the world.

-------

I'm kissing her! Me! Harry Potter! This is nothing like the dance, it's nothing like the hug, it's so much more that I can't even begin to explain. In fact, I won't try, because I can't. It's that her lips taste so incredible and that I can't stop my hands from running over her curves, and I wouldn't remove her arms from around my neck for the world.

It was supposed to be like this.

It was meant to be like this.

-------

Perhaps there is hope for the `L' word after all. Because there's only one thing that makes me feel like this every time I see him, every time I'm near him, heck, anytime someone mentions his name.

"Hey beautiful, so how about that, `through the nose' thing?"

Note2: Sorry it's a bit boring, then again I specialize in that sort of thing. I wasn't originally going to write this but it just sort of happened.