He could feel her warmth pressed against his back the moment he woke, a warmth that warmed not only his body, but his soul, comforting him in a way that seemed to drive every worry he'd ever had from his mind. Her arm was heavy around his chest, her small hand warming his chest just over his heart and he couldn't have fought the smile that spread his mouth had he wanted to. He eased himself onto his back, careful not to jostle her, fearful of waking her. Contentment welled up in him as he looked upon her. A lock of hair had fallen across her eye and hid her face from him and he slowly reached his hand to smooth the wayward lock behind her ear.
He'd never told her, but waking up with her was his favourite of all the things they ever did together, better than making love or cuddling on the sofa or laughing together over the comic strip in the Sunday morning paper. Being able to watch her at her most vulnerable, knowing that she trusted him enough to allow him to witness her like this, bare to the world and defenceless, unable even to shy away from his gaze, was infinitely more intimate to him, a man who had spent his life building and rebuilding walls around himself to keep everyone else out even while he slept, than anything else.
As it was rather rare that she was able to spend the night with him, it wasn't often that they were able to spend mornings together. So waking up beside her that morning was made even more special by the knowledge that she spent the entire night by his side, curled up beside him, snuggled in his arms as though there was no where she'd rather be. It brought him a great sense of peace to know that it was her warmth that kept him warm through the night and her arms that held him against her like she'd never let him go again.
A loose strand of hair tickled her nose and, with drowsy annoyance, she scrunched up her nose and rubbed at the tip with the back of her hand. Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing but all the same felt adoration swell through him. Before he'd gained firsthand experience for himself, he never would have thought that Hermione could be so absolutely adorable even in sleep. She sighed softly in her sleep and shifted closer to him, tightening her hold around him, holding him more securely against her, and moving her head to rest on his chest, pressing her cool nose to his neck and making him flinch.
As he watched her sleep and tried to ignore the encroaching morning light and the oncoming day, Harry knew that he'd never been so happy in his life nor felt so at peace with the world. Nothing could possibly compare with the happiness that laying there with Hermione and just being with her brought him. He'd gladly suffer again a million lifetimes with the Dursleys and his godforsaken destiny as the Chosen One for this moment alone.
He stroked his hand up and down her arm and rested his head back on his pillow, looking at the ceiling and debating whether he ought to try for a few more hours of sleep. It was early yet, just gone eight in the morning, and they hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, too busy enjoying a rare night together. She'd still be there when he woke, he knew. She craved mornings like this just as much as he did and he was certain that she wouldn't give it up for anything short of saving the world because nothing was as heavenly as waking up together and being able to lounge in bed together for as long as they pleased.
He also knew that, eventually, they would have to leave the warm cocoon of his bed and begin their day. As much as they wanted, they couldn't stay in bed forever, they both had overly busy lives that they'd used to fill the void before they finally found each other and which they had both found themselves employing to avoid their friends and loved ones and the questions that would inevitably be asked of them regarding their distance and unavailability as of late. Such were the ramifications of being involved in a secret relationship, they were unable to tell anyone that they were together, a hellish torture in and of itself as they both wanted nothing more than to be able to tell the world so they could be together whenever they desired without fear of being caught.
However, it was highly unlikely that her boyfriend would appreciate them telling everyone they knew that they were together and had been for two months, behind his back and even, on occasion, in his flat. No, that was not an occurrence that either Harry or Hermione were anticipating though they both knew it would inevitably come to pass as they were completely incapable of giving each other up. So, until they discovered the ideal solution, or even a workable solution, to their problem, they'd continue in secret. Besides, it could not be denied that the secrecy of their relationship added a certain flare and certainly made the sex much more intense when they ran the risk of getting caught. Like those times in her boyfriend's flat… it still made them blush to recall.
Just as he was dozing off again, the sharp crack of apparition snapped Harry back to wakefulness and his sudden jerk shook Hermione from her slumber. Groggily, she frowned at him as she rubbed at sleepy eyes.
"Harry, what is it," she asked at the same moment a voice from the living room of Harry's flat called his name, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching down the hall.
Their wide-eyed gazes were fixed on the door as the voice sounded again, closer this time. Harry scrabbled out of the bed, grabbing at clothes on the floor until he found his boxers and t-shirt from the night before and managed to pull them on. He looked back at Hermione, naked and still flushed from sleep, wrapped in his bed sheets looking rumpled and heartbreakingly sexy watching him with wide fearful eyes. His heart throbbed in his chest and he wished for the millionth time in the past two months that she was his and his alone.
He bent over the bed, reaching to capture her mouth for a brief kiss and gently cupped her cheek in his hand.
"Stay here," he told her, "I'll take care of it."
He kissed her again quickly, unable to help himself, and hurried to his door as his name was called again from the hallway just outside his room. His hand on the doorknob, he glanced forlornly back at the scene on his bed, wishing that their morning hadn't been intruded upon, and quickly twisted the door handle, slipping through the small opening, blocking his bedroom from the view of his unexpected and unwanted visitor.
* * *
Harry stepped through the doorway and very nearly ran into his best friend who had just been reaching out to open the bedroom door himself and without knocking, Harry noticed. He eased the door closed behind him, casting a silent silencing charm to hide any noise that Hermione may make on the other side of the door but allowing her to hear what happened outside of the bedroom.
Harry turned to his friend and scowled unhappily at his intrusion. "Ron, what are you doing here? For the love of Merlin, it's eight in the morning and on a Sunday no less. What could possibly be so important that you'd show up here now?"
Ron, at least, had the grace to look sheepish for arriving unannounced at so early an hour and shuffled his feet. "Sorry, mate, I just need to talk to someone and I figured since you never have anyone over that it wouldn't be a big deal, you know?"
Harry's frown deepened and he roughly grabbed the man's arm, forcing him back down the hall and away from the bedroom. "For your information, I do occasionally bring people over and I happen to have someone here now, so this damn well better be Armageddon-important or I'm going to slaughter you."
Ron didn't bother to mask his surprise. "You have a bird here? Are you serious?"
Harry tightened his grip on Ron's arm in annoyance. "Yes, I'm serious, you git. What's so bloody surprising about that?"
"Nothing, mate, it's just… well, you never bring girls back to your flat, bit of a surprise is all."
Harry guided his friend to the foyer and none-too-gently shoved him towards the door. "Yeah, well, surprise. Now, you best hurry and tell me what's so damn important or get out of here. I've better plans for my day that looking at your ugly mug."
Brought back to his reason for visiting his friend's flat, Ron quickly became uncomfortable once again and started nervously moving about. "Well, it's just… you see-"
"Ron," Harry growled, "quit pussy-footing around and get to the point."
Ron scowled, the tips of his large ears turning pink. "It's not easy, Harry, so give me a break, would you?"
Harry's expression darkened as he slowly, deliberately, crossed his arms over his chest and straightened to his impressive and intimidating height.
Ron held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, okay. Can't we at least go to the kitchen, a spot of tea would be nice about now."
Harry didn't budge.
"Fine," Ron sighed. "Bloke can't even get any sympathy from his best mate these days."
"Get there faster, Ron," Harry instructed, his voice low and dangerous as his thoughts drifted to Hermione who was still in his bedroom and likely pacing about, worrying herself half sick.
"Me and Hermione got in a fight last night," the redhead finally admitted.
Harry sighed deeply with exasperation. "I swear on Merlin's knickers, Ron, that if you woke me up to tell me that, you won't live long enough to worry about what Hermione will do to you for whatever idiotic thing you did last night."
"Who said I did anything," Ron demanded, his temper quickly rising.
"You don't actually expect me to believe that it was Hermione that started the fight, do you? I've known you for thirteen bloody years, Ron, I know better than that."
"She starts fights too!"
He nodded. "Sure, she does, when you say something stupid to offend her."
"Bloody hell, Harry, why do you always take her side?"
He smirked like the answer was obvious. "Because she's Hermione, she's always right."
"You just think she's bloody perfect. It's like you're in love with her or something, the way you're always taking her side, following her around like a sodding dog."
"Come off it, Ron. I'm not the one who followed her around ten years with his tongue hanging out before he got the stones to ask her out. That's pathetic is what that is."
Ron's face was quickly turning an unsettling shade of red and Harry wondered briefly if his friend might hemorrhage.
"Pathetic, is it? Then why do I have the girl and the great Harry Potter has no one."
Harry was nearly bowled back by the rush of anger the ripped through him and he had to fight a hard-won battle to stop himself from throwing his own relationship with Hermione in the prat's face. Only the fear of hurting Hermione was able to pull him back from the brink of making such a massive mistake.
"You don't own her, Ron, and if she ever heard you talk about her like that she'd have your bollocks and you know it."
Ron opened his mouth, prepared to continue the argument and likely say something he'd greatly regret later, but Harry held up his hand, waving him off before things escalated further.
"Shove off, Ron. I have things to do today and arguing with you isn't one of them. I don't care what it was that you said to Hermione, I'm certain it was stupid and that I'm far better off never knowing about it since then I won't have to kick your arse. Just apologize for whatever it was next time you see her and I'm sure we'll all be happier for it. Alright?" Harry stepped towards the door and opened it to usher his friend out. "Now get out of here so I can go back to bed."
"I asked her to marry me, Harry," Ron said so quietly that Harry almost missed it entirely.
Harry swung the door closed and suddenly found himself unable to think and completely incapable of stopping those words from replaying again and again in his mind. He proposed? Marriage? To Hermione? My Hermione?
In all his life, Harry had never felt such a violent urge to hit someone. Repeatedly.
"You-you-you what? You did… uh, what," he stammered incoherently.
Ron sighed deeply and rubbed his hands over his face, looking like a lost little boy. Harry had never seen his friend in such a state and found it to be rather unsettling.
"I asked her to marry me last night."
"And-and-and-" Harry shook his head, trying futilely to clear his mind from the incessant barrage of thoughts that ranged from wanting to severely injure his friend to wanting to curl up in a dark corner and cry over the evident inevitability that Ron would soon take Hermione from him forever. What if the night before had just been Hermione's way of saying goodbye to him? Though he really didn't believe that she was a "one for the road" type woman.
"She said no, mate. That's why we fought. She told me she wouldn't marry me. Actually," he fell back against the wall, slumping against it, "she said that she couldn't marry me because she doesn't love me. Never did, apparently."
Relief slammed through Harry and he stumbled back, reaching out to brace himself on the door behind him. "She said no?"
Ron nodded morosely. "Yeah, turned me down flat. Didn't even take a minute to think about it, just said no."
"Wow."
"Yeah."
"That's…" fantastic.
Ron sighed again. "Yeah."
Harry turned his attention to his pained friend, wondering what to say to him, how to be the understanding and supportive best mate when all he wanted to do was run down the hall to his bedroom, grab hold of Hermione, and refuse to let her go.
"Ron, mate, I'm sorry," he said sincerely, knowing what he must be going through though unable to relate due to the euphoria he felt.
"You've got to help me, Harry."
He nodded absently. "Yeah, of course. This afternoon, we'll go down to the pub and get right foxed. You'll forget all about her, you'll see, be over her in no time." Though he highly doubted that. He couldn't imagine how anyone could ever possibly get over Hermione. She had a way of just getting in a bloke's system, burrowing so deep and becoming such an intricate part of every aspect of his life until he couldn't remember anything before he met her, couldn't drudge up a single thought or memory that she hadn't touched in some way. He didn't really think it was possible to get her out of one's system once she got in and, to be perfectly honest about it, he never wanted to find out if it was possible.
Ron was shaking his hand and waving Harry off. "No, no, that's not what I mean. You have to help me get her back. You have to talk to her, tell her to marry me. I love her, Harry, no one will ever love her like I do."
Harry sincerely hoped that was true, he never wanted to see Hermione go through what Ron had put her through, constantly telling her that she was mental and that her ideas and her values were all wrong and no one would ever believe her or support her somewhat risqué endeavours. No, she deserved someone who would be there for her, who would support her even if they didn't necessarily agree with her or understand.
"Look, Ron, I really don't want to get involved in this. Hermione's already made her decision and you know that she's not going to change her mind."
"She would if you talked to her," he pleaded.
Harry shook his head. "I'm not going to do that."
Ron scowled darkly. "Come on, Harry. You're supposed to be my best friend."
"Yeah, well, I'm her best friend too, Ron, and I'm not going to try to talk her into doing something that she clearly doesn't want to do. I'm sorry she hurt you, mate, but, honestly, I'm not surprised that she said no."
Ron's hands clenched tightly at his sides and Harry could see him preparing for a fight. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that given how often the two of you fight, I can understand why she would say no. Who wants to spend their life fighting all the time? I'm surprised the two of you made it seven months, really."
Ron's arms started to tremble with the force of his ire. "Surprised, are you? Surprised that she could actually love me, is that it? Can't believe that someone could love pitiable Ron Weasley when the great Harry Potter is standing by waiting to play hero?"
Harry could feel his own anger rising again and endeavoured to put an end to things before it got out of hand. "Look, Ron, just go home and cool off. Give it a couple of days and then settle things with Hermione."
"Oh yeah, and while I'm sitting at home giving her time where will you be? Playing the understanding friend, weaselling your way in and stealing her for yourself. Some friend you are, you bloody bastard."
"Get out," Harry said calmly.
Ron looked surprised that Harry wasn't defending himself and quickly tried to bait him. "Why? So you can rush over to Hermione's? Maybe have a go at her while she's upset and vulnerable? Well, here's a tip, she likes it rough, likes to play that you're forcing her."
Harry's fist shot out before either of them knew it was coming, catching Ron square on the jaw with a sickening crunch and sending him sprawling on the floor. "She's never even slept with you, you sick bastard, and if I ever hear that you tried to force her to, I'll kill you." He was breathing hard, his body trembling with the adrenalin coursing through him. "Now get out before I decide to have another go at you."
Ron pushed himself up from the floor, cradling his bruised jaw and keeping his distance from the furious man before him. "You stay away from her, Harry. She's mine."
"Get out," he roared and watch disconnectedly as Ron left, slamming the door loudly behind him.
* * *
He'd never be able to recall how long he stood there, staring through a red haze at the door to his flat, his chest heaving with angry breaths before a gentle touch on his shoulder made him jump around, his fists up and ready for a fight. She didn't even flinch in the face of his anger, simply took his red and bloody hand to carefully inspect it. His knuckles were bloody, the skin broken and already swelling, but her touch was so tender that he barely felt it on his abused skin. After looking over the injured hand briefly, a saddened expression marring her beautiful countenance, she reached for his uninjured hand and led him to the washroom, sitting him on the closed lid of the toilet and she gathered the first aid necessities.
She tsked once as she gently dapped the blood from his knuckles with a damp cloth and he had the grace to look somewhat ashamed under her scrutiny. Neither talked until she'd cleaned his wounds and applied a healing cream and wrapped his hand with gauze.
He watched her quietly as she went about tending to the cuts on his hand. She really was like no one he had ever met before, so caring and intelligent and nurturing that anyone who was fortunate enough to become a part of her life was clearly on the good side of someone up there.
"He proposed to you," he softly mentioned, feeling fearful of her reason for not telling him that something so potentially life-altering had occurred between his two best friends shortly before she found herself in his bed.
She didn't pause in her task when he spoke, but he noticed that her body tensed ever so briefly. "He did."
"You didn't tell me about that when you came here last night."
She shook her head slowly. "No, I didn't"
"Why didn't you? I think that's something I probably should have known before we slept together."
"We've slept together before, Harry. It was hardly the first time."
He refused to be deterred. "Never after he's asked you to marry him. That was a first."
"Would it have made a difference?"
He moved his free hand to cover hers, holding them still until she finally met his gaze. "Yes, Hermione, it would have made a big difference. What we have is amazing and I would never want to let you go for anyone, but it's always been second to what you have with him, hasn't it? I mean, no one even knows about us, no one can know about us and it makes things seem a little less real sometimes. But everyone knows about you and Ron, half our friends claim they were waiting for years for the two of you to get it together and, whether you admit it or not, that alone makes your relationship with Ron more real in your mind than ours ever has been. So, having him propose to you… well, it isn't really something that you could just shrug off and forget before jumping into bed with me. I know you, Hermione, and I know that must have been on your mind all night and that you must have been struggling with the guilt of telling him no. So, yes, if I had known, I would have made a great difference and we probably would never have gone to bed together last night."
She sighed and gently squeezed his hands. "I know that, Harry, and that's exactly why I didn't tell you. Telling Ron that I can't marry him was hard, harder than you can ever imagine, and it was made harder still because I went to his flat last night to break up with him. I want to be with you and no one else and I was going to tell him that last night. Then, out of nowhere, he asked me to marry him. I broke his heart and I think I broke my own heart a little in the process as well.
"When I came here last night, I needed you, just you. I didn't want you to comfort me or to tell me that I had done the right thing. I just needed you to love me like you always have, without feeling like you had to prove something to me or I had to prove something to myself. I chose you, Harry, long before I went to Ron's last night and when I came here, I just needed you to make me feel like you always do, like I'm the most important woman in the world to you and that nothing else matters when we're together. I needed to be with you and just know that I had made the right decision for myself, the decision that I wanted."
She shook off his uninjured hand and returned to taking care of the battered one, turning her attention back to healing him. "If I had told you about Ron, the night would've become about him and that was the last thing I needed. I needed the night to be about us, just us so I could know for sure that I chose correctly."
"And did you," he asked tentatively. "Did you choose correctly?"
She smiled tenderly. "The moment you opened your door and I saw you smiling at me like you simply couldn't believe your eyes that I was there, I knew I made the right decision. You love me like no other man ever could and I love you the same way and that's why I could never marry Ron."
He marvelled at how this woman could make him feel with just a few well-chosen and heartfelt words. In a matter of mere moments, she could completely wipe out every bad and painful event and moment he had ever experienced. She was simply amazing.
He bent forward to reach her, pressing a light kiss to her soft lips and then left her to complete her task.
After several minutes of working silently, she finally spoke as she finished bandaging his hand.
"I heard what he said." Her voice was quiet, as though she didn't want to acknowledge that someone so close to her could say such things about her.
"I'm sorry." His apology was heartfelt and sincere and she knew that, in true Harry Potter style, he was blaming himself for what had happened that morning and taking full responsibility for everything that was said as though Ron had absolutely no control over his own actions and words.
Releasing his hand, she moved her hand to gently cup his cheek, lifting his gaze to hers. "No, Harry, don't apologize to me. You did nothing wrong."
He opened his mouth to argue and she quickly cut him off. "I heard everything, Harry. I heard every word the two of you said and you did absolutely nothing wrong. Of course, Ron may not see it that way." She smiled wryly. "I don't imagine he appreciated his best friend telling him that his relationship was doomed from the onset, but it was true nonetheless and it was something he had to hear. Not from you, granted, but he did need to hear it."
He nodded his head glumly. "You're right, I shouldn't have said that to him. I had no right to do it."
At his insistence to take the blame onto himself, she laughed with exasperation and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug and moving to sit in his lap. "Harry," she drew his name out lightly. "I love you to death, but you drive me absolutely mad."
He chuckled with her. "In a good way?"
She smiled and smoothed the backs of her fingers tenderly over the familiar curve of his cheek. "In the best way, Harry. I don't even want to think about what my life would be like without you in it."
He ran his hands up her back and pulled back far enough to be able to see her face and let a small, tentative smile cross his mouth. "One of these days, I'm going to tie you down for that forever everyone is always talking about and make sure we never have to find out what it would be like without each other."
He felt her heart rate pick up under his hand on her back and fought the urge to take back what he'd said when the slight look of fear on her face registered in his mind.
"Unless, of course, you don't like that idea. You are allowed to say "no, Harry'."
Her voice was soft when she finally spoke after a long pause. "No, Harry."
His heart clenched painfully in his chest and he quickly blinked back the tears that suddenly filled his eyes. Releasing his hold on her, he started to pull away, but she kept her hold tight and her weight heavy on his legs, preventing him from moving too far away. Held prisoner in her grasp, Harry turned his head away, refusing to look at her and he fought his emotions and wondered why she wouldn't just let him leave. She'd just told him she wouldn't spend her life with him, why wouldn't she let him leave, why torture him further?
Unable to look upon the pain etched into his features, she moved to talk into his ear, holding him closer to her even as he tried to push her away. "I don't want to wait for 'one of these days.' Today, Harry, do it today. I'm ready today. I promise you, I'm ready."
The quickness with which the surge of happiness filled him and replaced the pain and sorrow amazed him to no end as a wide smile spread across his face and lit his eyes. His arms wrapped themselves around her so tightly, she almost had to fight to breath, but she didn't mind as laughter bubbled up within her. He could hold her as tight as he wanted as long as he swore to never let her go.
Her laughter was cut short as his mouth covered hers.