A/N: Slight changes from the FF.net version in this chapter (a few sentences here and there, but still) so if you've opted to read it to Chapter 24 on FFN, you're missing out! :P
Disclaimer: Harry, Hermione, and the entire bloody Potterverse belong to JKR. Really, even though after HBP I'm not so sure… I'm just playing around with it all.
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After the teens had some time to calm down, they ordered room service for dinner. Neither of them had eaten yet that day and were starving; it was now past six. Harry had never dealt with a room service menu before, let alone ordering one, so he left that task to Hermione. She'd read a few things to him she thought he might like, and he picked what he wanted. While she was busy with dinner, Harry headed back out to the balcony. Earlier that afternoon he'd noticed that there was a table and chairs on the balcony, and he began to formulate a plan to surprise Hermione. He pulled the curtains over the sliding door so that she couldn't see him, and took out his wand. There was no one out on the adjacent balconies, and at seven stories high, it wasn't likely anyone would see him.
As Hermione placed the phone back in its cradle, she noticed the shadow of Harry on the curtain bouncing about on the balcony. He was moving all around, with his wand out, lit from behind by the setting sun. It seemed almost as if he were practicing duelling moves. She shrugged to herself, glad that he was at least able to clear his head enough to focus on their task ahead.
"Harry?" she called out tentatively.
He froze, hoping she wasn't going to come out on the balcony. They still hadn't put the rings back on, so there was no way she could know what he was up to. "Yeah?"
"I'm going to take a shower. If someone shows up with dinner before I get out, will you get the door, please?" she asked, pulling her shirt over her head as she walked to the bathroom.
"Mhmm, sure, it'll be on the balcony when you're done." came the reply, but Hermione wasn't listening anymore.
If earlier set him off, he should see me now, she thought, undoing the clasp of her bra and letting it join her tank top on the floor. She took her time unbuttoning her shorts, half-wishing that Harry would walk in on her right now. She realized how daring she was being by stripping with nothing but the curtain between the two of them, but perhaps if he were to catch her in the nude he'd realize his feelings for her. Or so she hoped.
Hermione bent over, slowly sliding her shorts down her smooth, tanned legs. She had spent a lot of time outside during her short stay at the Burrow, and the sun had certainly rewarded her for it. Standing in the middle of the hotel room wearing nothing but a light pink lace thong, Hermione wished more than anything that Harry could see her. She headed for the bathroom, not hearing the curtain pull back behind her, or the knock on the door.
As Harry crossed the room he was rewarded with a brief glimpse of Hermione's tanned backside, nearly causing him to trip on his own feet on his way to the door. Harry did his best to control his thoughts, knowing Hermione would hear them, but Merlin was he ever desperately restraining himself from following her into the bathroom and shagging her senseless against the shower wall! He had to take a few seconds to breathe before opening the door, waiting until he heard the water running in the bathroom.
He answered the door. "Sorry I took so long, I was on the balcony and didn't hear you knock at first."
The man nodded, almost as if he didn't care. He pushed the serving cart into the room, and stood, staring at Harry. He wasn't sure what to do, so Harry handed the man a couple pounds, thanked him, and watched him leave. He'd never been in a position where he had to tip someone before. Fortunately he'd heard of it, so he wasn't completely lost.
Harry pushed the cart towards the balcony, his mind still stuck on the image of Hermione entering the bathroom. He spotted her clothes in a pile on the floor, and gulped. She'd undressed right here, and he could've come in at any moment! Before he allowed himself to feel embarrassed at the thought, Harry remembered how smart of a girl Hermione was, and realized that she wouldn't have done it if she didn't want to catch him.
She did it on purpose? The little minx! Two could play that game, and Harry wasn't about to lose. Torn between storming his way into the bathroom and showing her just what her games did to him and finding a method of revenge, he chose the latter and took action. He quickly whipped off his shirt and began to set the table for dinner. Halfway through, he decided to try a shrinking charm to see if it would make his jeans fit a little better. Fortunately Harry managed to stop the spell just before they were too tight. He removed the old belt, knowing they would now rest snugly on his body.
While Harry was outside, Hermione turned off the taps in the shower. She stepped out and grabbed a towel, quickly rubbing it over her hair to absorb any excess water. She peeked out the door and when she couldn't see Harry, she made a quick dash for her clothes and quickly dressed in the bathroom. She hadn't taken the time to dry her skin, so her shorts and tank top clung to her body. Hermione wasn't worried about styling her hair; the permanent effects of the Sleekeazy potion not only tamed her hair, but made it so that it practically styled itself when left to dry.
As she stepped towards the balcony, her hair began to form small curls towards the ends, water droplets falling off of them every few seconds. She pulled the curtain back, and did her best not to stare.
Harry was sitting in a chair, leaning back, his body at an almost perfect forty-five degree angle to the balcony floor. The glow from the nearly set sun bounced off of his inky hair, and it bathed his body in a warm light. His jeans were now a perfect fit, hanging low on his hips. He'd left his shirt casually thrown over the back of his chair, giving Hermione a liberal view of his chest.
It was smooth and muscular, from summers of hard labour at the Dursleys and years spent training for Quidditch. Her eyes travelled down to discover a trail of crisp, dark hairs that started at his navel and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans.
Hermione's mouth went dry. She blinked at the obvious bulge that lay beneath the zipper of his denims, not even realizing that she had been staring at him for a full five minutes.
"Dinner came just as you stepped into the shower," Harry winked at her, giving her bottom an appreciative glance. "Thought you might like to really enjoy your meal." He gestured around him at the new décor upon the balcony.
Hermione fought to tear her eyes away from him, and she allowed herself to let out a gasp.
It looked like a tropical paradise. There was a gauzy mosquito net hanging from the balcony above, its many folds
spread around the edge of the railing to prevent bugs from getting at their meal. Clustered in the corners were several
beautiful potted plants; vines of ivy, several bird of paradise flowers, and hibiscus in a wide variety of colours. The
ivy was creeping its way up the mosquito netting, adding to the jungle feel.
Harry had transfigured the table and chairs from their former wrought-iron selves into a bamboo and wicker set, with a bright orange tablecloth to match several of the hibiscus flowers. There was a large citronella candle in a terra cotta pot in the centre of the table, each of its three wicks burning brightly.
"So, are you going to join me, or shall I levitate your food to you from here?" Harry smiled, looking pointedly at her feet.
Hermione was still standing inside the room. She took a step onto the balcony, and squealed in surprise. "Harry, you really know how to spoil a girl!" The entire floor of the balcony was covered in beach sand, warm as if it had been out in the sun all day. She took her seat at the table, and stared at Harry. "How did you--?"
"Just conjured it all up. I pictured it, flicked my wand, and there it was. I used the Orchideous spell as well, for the flowers." He gave her a lazy smile, reaching for his knife and fork. He began to dig into his steak, occasionally taking a sip from his glass in between bites.
Hermione's eyes fell on his graceful, long fingers as they curled around the stem of his glass. She noticed the bubbles in the liquid, and took a curious sip from her own glass. "Harry, I didn't order champagne, I ordered juice!" she quirked an eyebrow at him. "I assume you conjured this as well?"
"London's finest," he nodded, taking another sip.
"Champagne is for celebrating, Harry. I didn't realize we had anything to celebrate." She finally took a bite of her chicken, a little less in awe of her surroundings.
Harry looked at her quizzically. "Nothing to celebrate? 'Mione, are you nuts? There's plenty to celebrate! Our friendship, our new ability to communicate silently, and our journey ahead." He raised the champagne flute in a toast.
"We're celebrating having to find and destroy the remaining Horcruxes? I thought you weren't looking forward to that."
"The sooner it's over with, the sooner we can move on with our lives." Harry chewed on another piece of steak. "I was thinking we could head for Godric's Hollow," he said, toying with his fork. "Apparently I own some property there; I thought my parents house had been destroyed but judging by all the information I received from Gringotts a while back it's still there. We could stay there; train for a bit before we start hunting, and that way we'd always have a place to come back to. Not to mention I've got other places that belonged to my parents, Sirius, and Dumbledore. We wouldn't have to worry about a place to stay ever, really."
Hermione nodded in agreement. "What kind of training did you have in mind, Harry?" She was all business now, able to focus on his face instead of his body.
"We're going to have to be in top physical condition," he said, eyeing her, "so lots of physical exercise. Running, weight training, stretching, the works. The Death Eaters are mostly older, spoiled purebloods who've never done an honest days' work in their lives. It'll be easy for us to run circles around them. We're going to have to work on our duelling skills, as well as Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and of course, defence. Not to mention we're going to have to work on Apparition and Disapparition in the next couple of days. I know you've got your license, but I still need mine."
"Well, lets start tomorrow then, shall we? We'll head out to pick up some clothing and whatever else we need first thing, and then head for Godric's Hollow. Sounds perfect, Harry." She smiled, helping herself to more of her meal.
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"Ginny, would you calm down already? For Merlin's sake, they're fine," Ron exclaimed, trying to calm his sister.
"They're not fine, Ron, or they'd be back by now!" Ginny was in a panic. Hermione had left early that morning to bring Harry back to the Burrow, and now the moon was shining in the sky. "I'm sending an owl. We have to find them!"
"Maybe they don't want to be found," Ron muttered dejectedly.
"What?" Ginny spun around, looking furiously at her older brother.
Ron sighed, his arms drooping at his sides. "Hermione made it clear that she didn't want my help finding the Horcruxes, there's no bloody way you're going… maybe they just went off on their own."
Ginny's mind went reeling at this new revelation. Harry and Hermione, just the two of them? Without her and Ron? A little green monster began to rear its ugly head, filling Ginny's mind with thoughts of the two of them entwined in each other's arms.
She stormed out of the room, scribbled a quick, furious letter, and tied it to Pigwidgeon's leg. "Take this to Harry and Hermione, boy." She said gently, not letting her fury frighten the tiny owl. He gave a hoot, and took off into the night.
"Now, Gin, what'd you go and do that for? And what the bleeding hell did you say?" Ron asked, having followed her.
"Just if they were okay, and coming back to the Burrow."
"That's a load of it and you know it, Ginevra Weasley."
She shook her head. "Seriously, Ron, that's what I wrote. But you know that's definitely not what I meant. If they're up to what I think they're up to…" she trailed off, her hands balling into fists at her sides.
Ron shrugged, and left her to stew in her own anger. He trudged back to his bedroom, losing himself in thoughts of Hermione, and what could've been if he'd only stopped being an insufferable git years earlier.