How She Knew - An OotP Alternate Scene

How She Knew – An OotP Alternate Scene

By - Nicole

Summary – What if, instead of Cho, it had been Hermione who caught Harry under the mistletoe? And they had come up with the telling Ron it was Cho thing to avoid telling him about it? But in the end, it came out? This is my take on what that would be like. *OotP spoilers galore!*

Disclaimer – The majority of this is directly from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. All I can take credit for is the different plot parts.

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“You’re a really good teacher, Harry,” said Hermione, with a pleased smile. “Most of them have never been able to Stun anything before.”

“Thanks,” said Harry awkwardly.

They looked at each other for a long moment. Harry felt a burning desire to run from the room and, at the same time, a complete inability to move his feet.

“Mistletoe,” said Hermione quietly, pointing at the ceiling over his head.

“Yeah,” said Harry. His mouth was very dry. “It’s probably full of nargles, though.”

“Who told you that?”

“Luna said something about it right before the meeting began,” Harry said. She had moved closer. His brain seemed to have been Stunned.

She made a noise that sounded like disbelief mixed with laughter. She was even nearer him now. He could have counted the freckles on her nose.

“I really like you, Harry. I mean, I really like you.”

He could not think. A tingling sensation was spreading throughout him, paralyzing his arms, legs, and brain.

She was much too close. He could see the gold in her eyes up until the first brush of her lips against his and her eyes closing mere seconds later. The feeling of her lips—Hermione’s lips—against his own was strangely foreign, but not at all unwelcome. Soon enough, he felt himself running out of oxygen, and he gently pushed her shoulders back a little bit, ending the kiss.

“Erm..,” Harry didn’t know what to say. “What are we going to tell Ron?”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “I have an idea… But it involves some lying… And I’ll have to go back first, so he doesn’t get too suspicious… Think you’re up for it?”

“Sure. What do I have to do?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He returned to the common room half an hour later to find Hermione and Ron in the best seats by the fire; nearly everybody else had gone to bed. Hermione was writing a very long letter; she had already filled half a roll of parchment, which was dangling from the edge of the table. Ron was lying on the hearthrug, trying to finish his Transfiguration homework.

“What kept you?” he asked, as Harry sank into the armchair next to Hermione’s.

Harry did not answer. he was thinking about what Hermione had told him to do, wondering if there was something she had forgotten to take care of in their plan. Half of him was arguing that there wasn’t anything she could have missed, but the other half was insisting that she hadn’t thought of everything.

“Are you all right, Harry?” Hermione asked, peering over the tip of her quill.

Harry gave a halfhearted shrug. In truth, he didn’t know whether he was all right or not. “What’s up?” said Ron, hoisting himself upon his elbow to get a clearer view of Harry. “What’s happened?”

Harry didn’t quite know how to set about telling them, and still wasn’t sure about what he was going to say. Just as he had decided not to say anything, Hermione took matters out of his hands.

“Is it Cho?” she asked in a businesslike way. “Did she corner you after the meeting?”

Even though Harry wasn’t surprised, he tried to look like he was, and nodded. Ron sniggered, breaking off when Hermione caught his eye.

“So – er – what did she want?” he asked in a mock casual voice.

“She–” Harry began, rather hoarsely; he cleared his throat and tried again. “She–er–”

“Did you kiss?” asked Hermione briskly.

Ron sat up so fast he sent his ink bottle flying all over the rug. Disregarding this completely he stared avidly at Harry.

“Well?” he demanded.

Harry looked from Ron’s expression of mingled curiosity and hilarity to Hermione’s slight frown, and nodded.

“HA!”

Ron made a triumphant gesture with his fist and went into a raucous peal of laughter that made several timid-looking second years over beside the window jump. A reluctant grin spread over Harry’s face as he watched Ron rolling around on the hearthrug. Hermione gave Ron a look of deep disgust and returned to her letter.

“Well?” Ron said finally, looking up at Harry. “How was it?”

Harry considered for a moment, searching for a word.

“Wet,” he said finally.

Ron made a noise that might have indicated jubilation or disgust, it was hard to tell.

“Because she was crying,” Harry continued hurriedly.

“Oh,” said Ron, his smile fading slightly. “Are you that bad at kissing?”

“Dunno,” said Harry, who hadn’t considered this question, and immediately felt rather worried. “Maybe I am.”

“Of course you’re not,” said Hermione absently, still scribbling away at her letter. Then, realizing what she said, her head snapped up and the letter fell to the floor.

“How do you know?” said Ron in a sharp voice.

Hermione blushed. Ron looked from Hermione to Harry as if studying their faces. Harry had buried his head in his hands when Ron had asked her how she knew.

“Now, Ron… Don’t get mad… We were only trying to put the cushions up and clean up and stuff. We bumped into each other, and I didn’t know he was standing underneath the mistletoe. And it.. happened,” Hermione blushed harder, if that was possible.

“Did you enjoy it?” Ron asked, as if he was hoping for a negative answer.

Harry blushed this time, and looked down. Hermione looked at her nails. Ron was waiting on an answer, but soon he realized that the answer was written on both of their faces.

“You did. It’s on both of your faces. I know you both better than you know your own self. But each of you know each other better than I ever will.”

“You know Ron, I reckon Luna Lovegood’s got her eye on you,” Hermione said, grinning cheekily.

“Oh, yeah, she’s always looking at you, Ron,” Harry said, reaching over to grab Hermione’s hand.

Ron rolled his eyes. “I’m going to bed. You two can stay down here and snog, or you can go to bed yourselves. It’s your choice.” He bade them both goodnight and headed up the stairs to the dormitory.

Hermione looked sideways at Harry. “So, how about some reassurance that you most definitely aren’t a bad kisser?”

He looked at her. “You don’t have—”

She had already kissed him again, and it wasn’t long before her lips parted and he felt her tongue on his lips. His lips parted, and soon his tongue was intermingled with hers. It was the best feeling he’d ever experienced, even topping winning the Quidditch Cup.

They parted after a few moments, and while they were both flushed and out of breath, they both sported smiles.

“Do you think he’s mad at us?” Harry asked.

“If he is, I certainly didn’t notice, and normally you notice when he’s mad,” Hermione said. “I think it’s time for bed.”

“Ok,” Harry said. He kissed her once more and hugged her. “Good night, Hermione.”

“Good night, Harry,” she said.

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