The Hangover-Chapter 3
Harry expected to see Fred and George still sitting in the one room hut when he awakened. He counted himself lucky that they weren't. He was bothered by their insistence that Harry was somehow out to score with Hermione. Or, rather, they were unaware of their feelings for one another and it would be some great coup to show them what they were missing.
Harry wondered how anyone could miss the fact that he and Hermione were painfully aware that if they wanted to be lovers it was only a tip of the head and a hearty--`Let's shag'-away. It was a silent choice that came up in almost every conversation. To them, it wasn't a bad thing. It was the only thing. As long as neither one of them started having masturbation sessions around the idea, it was erotic and sustaining in a weird sort of way. They each had a secret lover that they saw in public, but knew would never leave them dissatisfied or completely alone.
His head hurt. He laughed at another time in his life where it was a scar on his head that hurt. Now, it was a good old-fashioned headache from two quickly downed shots of Jagermeister. Harry had ordered it because he heard Oliver Wood order one. He got another for Hermione just because he thought if he was going to get drunk she was too. He wondered how she was if he was this bad. She was sixty pounds lighter than him and more susceptible to getting drunk than he was.
She was his friend. There were no ifs, ands or buts about it. He remembered vaguely that she'd said they'd have to sort out their feelings first before they lived under one roof. That was mildly discomforting, but true.
Harry wished he didn't have to get up to get the headache powders out of the cupboard. He couldn't think straight at the moment. They would need to know the stakes. Would they somehow have to decide that it was never to be? Or, would they have to agree that it wasn't to be now? Or, did they need to decide that it was now or never? He wasn't even sure that he'd covered all the options.
He walked slowly toward the cupboard with one eye closed and dragging his left leg slightly. He realized that sometimes the nerves in his leg and back made his left side tingle and not respond. It usually went away after a bit. He grabbed his pillow off the bed and propped himself up on the sofa. It was then that he noticed Fang staring at him from about a foot away. "Oh, Jesus, Fang. What the bloody hell?" He laughed. How had a monstrous dog like Fang followed him around without being noticed?
He got up and let Fang out the back door. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The midday sun was too bright, but he wasn't complaining. He'd done this to himself with the second shot of Jagermeister. He was convinced he would have survived the first. The second was like a haymaker blow to the side of his head.
Was Hermione home or at work today, he wondered? He loved the wizard world except for one thing. No telephones or any electronic devices could be used on the grounds. He couldn't call to see if she were okay nor could he Apparate at the gate and save time on the walk to her flat. "Woe is me," he laughed as he decided to get a shower and go see if she was okay.
He was suddenly aware of his thoughts since he woke up. Was he only speaking for himself when he said that he and
Hermione were aware of their decision to not be lovers? He had no idea now as walked toward her flat. Would she let him
in her flat unannounced? He thought that was an odd thing to think of when he was so sure she'd agree to sex with
him at the drop of a hat. Why wouldn't she?
He knocked on her door. He heard the moan from the other side. "Go away. Come back later."
"Jagermeister," said Harry with a chuckle.
"Pardon my French, but fuck Jagermeister," said Hermione. "You are a prat, Harry Potter--giving me that rocket fuel to drink last night." She tried to smile but only managed to leave the door open and go back to her sofa and sit down. "One, I could forgive you for--two, you will pay dearly for."
"Hey, wait a minute, potty mouth," he said softly. "I didn't hold your mouth open and pour it in."
"Oh piss off," she said smiling now with her eyes closed. "Now I know what the term `Bludger to the head' means."
They laughed. "Well, Happy `effing' Birthday, Hermione," said Harry. "I was worried about you though. I mean, I knew if I felt bad, you would feel just as bad or worse. I'm sorry that was a bad decision."
"I would have felt terrible if you hadn't been so drunk too. We'd have done it in the hallway as randy as I was feeling. Or, I would have tried anyway. I'd have passed out on you before…well, I don't want to think about again," she said.
"Hermione, do we share the same brain on some things?" he asked almost seriously.
"What do you mean?" she asked looking up like he had earlier with only one eye truly open trying to minimize the light that sent bolts of pain through her head.
"I mean I was thinking about how that might have happened too. I was too drunk and I knew it. You knew it. You knew if you said, `Okay, Harry, do me.' I would have been up to the task in a heartbeat," he said with a smile. "Why don't people know we know this about ourselves and that we choose not to do it?"
"Because they're normal and we're sick freaks," she said letting her head roll back on the arm of her sofa.
Harry could hardly breathe he laughed so hard. "Well, since you put so romantically."
"Why do we do this to each other, Harry?" asked Hermione straightening up a bit.
"I think for lots of reasons. One, I don't try to think about is that there's danger in getting too close," he said. "It's not like I don't see you as God awful sexy. I just don't let myself get carried away with it."
"That's actually kind of sweet," said Hermione. "For me, I'm afraid we won't be a match like me and Ron weren't a match."
"That too," said Harry. "I had one of those with Ginny."
"Are we that `effed' up that we can't take a chance?" questioned Hermione. "The humiliation of a failed relationship can't be as bad as what we get for walking around acting indignant and snooty when people bring it up."
"Is this the alcohol still talking?" asked Harry. "I'm not sure I'm going to want to remember this conversation."
"Why?' asked Hermione.
"Because it means we've been lying to people all this time and I can't think of how to cook crow to my liking," said Harry.
Hermione laughed at the thought. "Me either. So what do we do? We're not going to change over night? And jumping in the sack isn't going to fix anything but blue balls and cobwebs. Did I rent a sailor's mouth this morning or am I really acting like a street whore?"
"We're both talking like a couple of idiots to be honest. You're usually the one who's all calm and proper and I'm the one with the sick expressions," said Harry.
"I'm sorry. I'm embarrassed. I don't talk that way ever, but somehow this is like so foreign I almost don't want to be myself for fear of being afraid," she laughed as she finished. "Now how is that for a neurotic statement?"
There was a long silence. Hermione and Harry were both deep in thought. They didn't look at each other or move. Finally, Harry acknowledged the reason. "Neither of us know how to act now do we? As long as we kept things the way they were we could joke and all that stuff."
Hermione was in jeans in a tee shirt with her robe around her. Harry couldn't help looking at her now. "I don't know how to even come over and sit with you," he said. "That's pathetic. I could jump someone else's bones in a heartbeat in a position like this…"
Hermione slid over and patted the seat next to her. He sat down. She pulled his arm around her and held his hand. "It's like we have to go back to being fifteen again, Harry. If we start in the middle, we'll screw it up."
"We have a long way to go, don't we?" he confided. It was a question that was its own answer.
"If we don't want to lose our best friend's, we have a very long way to go," said Hermione. "You don't go from letting your best friend shag a girlfriend and joke about it to wanting to be the girlfriend without some issues." She smiled.
"Screwing's easy. Making love and making a relationship work is hard," said Harry. "I'm master at screwing by the way."
"Well, one day you'll have to prove that. I'll bring book with a scoring system," she said tickling his ribs.
"Oh that'll keep us in the mood," he said. "I can hear it now: minus two points to Potter, move three centimeters to the left or some such rubbish. You'd be the Bedroom Prefect."
"I'm a perfectionist and you're what?" she asked magnanimously to avoid calling him the name she was thinking.
"A slob," he acknowledged. "Slob is the word, most definitely. Anything is good enough as long as it isn't a complete failure. All you have to do is look at my six years of homework. It give myself partial credit for the one year at the school of hard knocks."
They laughed.
"That's exactly why we're afraid of each other," said Hermione. "Right?"
"I think so," admitted Harry. "Hi, I'm Harry Potter and I have a commitment problem."
"Hi, I'm Hermione Granger and I have a commitment problem."
They shook hands.
Harry smiled. "You are a really great girl, Hermione and I do love you." He kissed her softly.
"Ditto, Harry," she said. "No, let me rephrase that. I love you, Harry. Now dump the girlfriend." She smiled again even broader than before. The hangover was apparently gone.
"Can I screw her first?" he said. "I'm kidding." Hermione's face had widened suddenly in shock.
"You have no idea how close you came to being castrated for that comment," she said. "I was about to take the barrette out of my hair and do field surgery on you."
"Ouch! That definitely would have made the scoring book a moot point now wouldn't it?" he kidded.
They sat and talked and occasionally threw in a minute or two of snogging. "You know this isn't going to get it right?" said Hermione. "This is like one of those exercises that married couples do on a retreat in therapy."
Harry had to laugh. She was right. It was the "How to Have a Relationship with Your Best Friend Show". Guaranteed to work: no passion, no mess, no heartbreak. He shared that with Hermione.
"We have to find a way to kick start ourselves. Right now, we could easily walk right back into our old lives and lie to everyone," said Hermione. "I hate to say it, but I could. As a matter of fact, it would be harder than ever to get out of it if I did. I'd always have in the back of my mind that you love me. That's how we're surviving now, but it was an educated guess."
Harry looked at her again. "You know it will probably be sex that will do it," he said quietly. "But we're talking ourselves out of the mood as we sit here."
"I feel like my parents," said Hermione. "They love each other and they probably do it still. They have to work at it to keep the passion alive. If we love each other as much as I know we do, we can do this." The tears came to her eyes slowly. "It's hard when you've shared every emotion in life together but never took time for each other."
"We are pathetic, you know. If people heard us talking they'd say, just throw her on the floor and give it to her. You know you want to," he said.
"Let's try to do something different than we do now. You know the old saying. `If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you always got'. It's inevitable that you'll get some bump or bruise this week that needs tending to. I'll have Marlie, George's girl take care of you instead of me. We'll do our best to minimize our contact except for a date next Saturday night. We're too accessible to one another. The mystery is gone," said Hermione. "No holds barred on the date though. You can't show up in a tee shirt and I can't just cook you dinner like you're visiting your sister."
"Why does that sound like such a good idea?" asked Harry enthusiastically. "We could wait all our lives for one of us to find the right person to jerk us out of our comfort zone and it would be too late."
Hermione's shoulders dropped and she sighed. "You know, Harry. We're not the typical best friends figure out their love for each other kind of story. The date thing might actually take a while. New couples build the excitement by seeing each other more often. I think we have to unlearn things about each other. I'm afraid that it might come down to what you just said."
"You mean either you or I meet someone who gives us an urgency to figure it out?" asked Harry.
"Look at what we're doing. We're trying to figure out a strategy to not hurt one another. I've got you doing the perfection thing too," said Hermione. "Kiss me and go home, Harry. Just so you know what I'm talking about. You picked me up for my birthday party yesterday with no present, no Happy Birthday dressed like you would for a casual night out. I still love you and you still love me. With those standards from both of us, we can do better. We can make it exciting and new. Think about that and I'll see you Saturday. Now, get out." She said with a smile.
Harry walked down the Main Street again thinking about their conversation. That was it. Maybe that's what everyone sees in them, he thought. They see us in a routine and they're just trying to help us spice things up so we don't miss it. "Man, I really want to just get laid," he said out loud.
For the first time, he thought about Hermione and what she'd think if he acted like that with her. Maybe Hermione didn't dislike the guys who approached her with cheesy lines as much as she hated the fact that they didn't come with a warning label. "Diseased." "Perverted." "Self-centered." "Tender." "Caring." He was definitely working from a position of strength. He knew what she liked and didn't like. She wasn't the `I'll run off with the bad boy type'. So, sleazy aggressive styles were a no-no. He couldn't think of a girl who would like that anyway, but he was sure that there were some.
He realized that he'd never take care of his duties as a teacher if he tried to figure it all out at once. He had to try to do it the way he felt comfortable and work from there.
One more thought crossed his mind. Maybe this wasn't Hermione's problem at all. Or, rather, maybe he had to take more responsibility than he had. He was famous. Dianna approached him. Romilda Vane had approached him. There were countless others that made it unnecessary for him to invest his energy in getting what he wanted. If he wanted sex, it was a no-brainer. He wasn't being arrogant nor had he had hundreds of girls knocking his door down. But, he had had more opportunities at a young age than most guys. He wanted Hermione and he was going to have to risk a lot to make it work. He'd stopped having to do the risk thing when he and Ginny got together. It hadn't worked out with either Ginny or Cho. He had failed the two times he'd tried it and he was scared. This one wasn't like that. There would never be another, Hermione. There wouldn't be a next time.
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