Absolute Truths

Absolute Truths

By: Twilight (aka Azure)

[A/N: Just a piece of fluff I wrote quite awhile back. =)]

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There were three things Hermione Granger had come to accept as absolute truths in her six years at Hogwarts:

One: The library was peerless in its efficient manner of presenting material and knowledge.

Two: Harry Potter had gorgeous eyes. Among other things.

Three: A tipsy Ronald Weasley was a very dangerous thing.

Said drunkard waltzed past, grinning hugely at noone in particular, oblivious of the other Three Broomsticks patrons who strove to avoid his haphazard dancing, warily backing up as he drew near. One thing was for sure, however: Ron was dancing with an equally drunk Neville, and Hermione had no intention of stepping in to - politely, mind you - inform him of that minor fact.

"Wish Colin was here," Harry observed from the chair beside her. He turned to her, winking, and Hermione felt suddenly flustered - though whether from his roguish smile or the beer, she wasn't exactly sure. But as Harry turned to whistle loudly as Ron swung past, Hermione had the feeling no amount of alcohol could affect her the way he did.

Ron, despite his lack of sobriety, managed to find his way to their table, looking particularly flushed. Hermione winced as he missed his chair, cursing as he found himself under the table.

"Shorry," Ron murmured apologeticly, "damn shtools have a mind of their...of their...where's my drink?" He found a half-empty mug, drained it, and darted off again into the fray.

"I know a handy Hangover potion," Hermione said, watching him gleefully attach himself to Ginny and drag her onto the dance floor.

Harry arched an eyebrow. "And where did you learn that, pray tell?"

Hermione returned the look. "Certainly not in Hogwarts: A History, though it would have been a wise choice considering the sight of these post Quidditch parties. Excellent game, by the way."

"Ah, it was nothing," Harry said, blushing. Truth be told, it was far more than nothing, Hermione privately thought. Harry had managed to leap off his broom in a startling feat of athleticism and capture the Snitch minutes after the match had started, much to her delight and worry.

"Coming from the Monkey-Who-Lived."

Harry grinned at her and Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. "Harsh."

"Suck it up, Potter, or do I need to get Ron to carry you home?"

Harry slung an arm companionably around her shoulders. "I'd much prefer you, thanks," he said, batting his eyelashes.

Hermione felt a twinge of pleasure as his fingers lazily stroked the curls of her hair and involuntarily shuddered. Harry froze, eyeing her warily. "Cold?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, briefly wondering just how Harry could be so unaware of the effect he had on her. She shook it from her mind and decided to focus on the night, the night to be with her best friend, who just happened to be able to turn her world inside out with a simple smile. She slid her arm around his waist, and for a long while neither spoke, enjoying each other's company.

It was at that moment Ron left the dance floor, headed to the table, and abruptly cheered upon seeing them. The dancing halted in an instant, and Hermione could see numerous heads swivel towards them. She felt Harry stiffen beside her and instinctively squeezed his waist.

"Thish ish great!" Ron said loudly, beaming. "You two finally...finally hooked up!"

There was a moment's silence before the cheering began. Alcohol began to flow and applause broke out from every corner of the pub; Hermione silently vowed to murder Ron as he strode towards them, still grinning, beer in hand.

"'Bout damn time, Harry."

Harry glared at him. "For the record, you idiot, we are NOT going out." Hermione faintly noticed he had yet to remove his hand from her shoulder.

But Ron hadn't heard him, or had chosen to ignore Harry; the crowd eventually fell silent as he perched himself rather precariously on a nearby stool, calling for silence. Hermione could feel numerous eyes on her again as Ron launched into his speech.

"Thish is a memorable event for the Gryffindor housh! I..." Ron suddenly appeared rather disoriented and leapt off the stool, making a beeline towards the restrooms. Raucous laughter arose as he slammed the door behind him, and it was Ginny who stepped forward to continue.

"Memorable indeed. We've all been waiting for this moment, you two - took you long enough, you prats!" Ginny paused as cheers echoed around the pub. "I do believe this means the bet is over, however," she added with a mischievous grin. "I hope you drunken sods brought your money."

Hermione was still in a state of shock from the recent turn of events. She turned to Harry, who appeared likewise surprised, and murmured, "I'm going to kill them all." He nodded fervently.

The partygoers quickly fell silent as Ron reentered the room, looking slightly pale. "That's better," he said in a shaky voice. Then, seeing Harry and Hermione still sitting silently at their table, he turned to the crowd and asked, "What, they haven't done it yet?"

Harry groaned. Hermione looked at him, quizzically, not understanding the expectant looks Ron and nearly every other Gryffindor in the pub was giving them.

"I think they want us to kiss," Harry said quietly.

Hermione gaped. "Oh. Well...we can just tell them we're just friends, right? I mean, it's not like we have to kiss anything, not that I would mind." She froze, mentally berating herself for being such an incredible idiot and swearing to never touch a pint of beer again.

Harry turned slowly towards her, licking his lips hesitantly, a strange fire alight within his eyes. Hermione found her mind blissfully blank as she smiled shyly, fighting the urge to bury her hands deep within his messy black hair.

Hermione suddenly realized just what was lurking within the depths of his eyes as he drew closer and was struck by exhilaration. It was desire.

Their lips locked, and cheers rocked the foundation of the pub, but Hermione was aware of little but the warmth of Harry's lips, tasting slightly of alcohol but still deliciously Harry. She found herself lost within her best friend, who just happened to be the sweetest person she knew. They parted briefly for air, and it was Harry who dove willingly forward, groaning as her hands snaked forward around his neck. Hermione's eyes were closed, but she did not need to open them to know things would be very different from this point forward.

But definitely for the better.