Hi-hi, chickadees. I decided on an earlier update (everybody say `YAY!') because…you need one. This chapter is longer than the last one, though not nearly as long as the one after it. So be happy!
A Touching Romance
Chapter 6 ~ A hastily written postscript
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Four days. Four horrendous, boring, bloody days. Four days had passed since Hermione figured out what the problem was. The two of them - Harry and Hermione - had spent all of that time in the Library, scanning old, dusty tomes for anything that looked remotely promising.
Every now and then, one of the two would happen upon something interesting.
"Oh, look, Harry," Hermione would say. "This might be a possibility."
Harry would scoot over towards her. "What does it look like?" he would ask.
"Well, what it says is - oh, wait, never mind. If this was the one, you would've burst into flame by now."
And then they would turn back to their respective books in silence.
This happened every few minutes for four days. Harry thought he might go insane. Which, taking into account his decidedly more unkempt appearance, his inability to form coherent sentences at odd hours of the day, and the fact that he hadn't had any physical contact without dire consequences in at least a week, wasn't such an illogical idea.
Harry knew that Hermione was beginning to worry about him. He'd look up from an essay or a book and catch her staring at him concernedly, if not a bit longingly. This both confused him and, strangely, made him happy. He couldn't even begin to guess why, but he found that she became a bit flustered every time he touched her, which he was doing more often than ever before after learning she was the only one he could touch.
He decided to write to Remus for help, thinking that, as an expert on Defense Against the Dark Arts, he might recognize the symptoms and be able to point them to a solution.
Dear Remus, he wrote,
How has your Christmas holiday been? Mine has been alright, but something has gone wrong. That's what I'm writing about.
A few mornings ago, the day Ginny and Ron left for the Burrow; a lot of strange things began to happen. People broke out in boils and their hair turned strange colors. Hermione figured out that it was a result of my touching people. Something weird happens to everybody I touch, except for Hermione.
We think somebody's cursed me, but we can't figure out which one it is, especially because of this thing with me being able to touch only Hermione. Do you know what it is?
Hope you're doing well. Write back soon.
Harry
P.S. What does it mean when a girl stares at you and blushes when you touch her? I sort of suspect…well, I think it means she fancies me. I don't really know what to do about it.
The post-script he added rather hastily, as Hermione had just climbed in through the portrait hole. He folded the letter, addressed it to Remus, and sent Hedwig off.
"Hello, Hermione," he greeted her when she took a seat at his table.
"Hey, Harry," she replied. "Who was that you were writing to?"
"Remus. I thought he might be able to help us," Harry said.
Hermione beamed at him. "Good idea! I didn't even think of that." Harry felt rather pleased with himself.
There were a few moments of silence, then Harry, thinking he could test out his theory, reached forward and took Hermione's hand. "You know," he began, "Just because I wrote to Remus doesn't mean that I don't think you can find the solution. You're the brightest witch of your generation, after all. If anyone can figure this out, it's you."
Hermione blushed, and rather prettily, Harry thought. "Thank you, Harry," she said. "I'll try my best for you." She looked away as she said the last bit, looking embarrassed.
Harry smiled as a fuzzy sort of warmth flowed from the hand holding Hermione's and throughout his whole body. Wishing he had the courage to keep his hand around hers, he withdrew it. He thought he heard Hermione sigh, but couldn't be sure.
Nothing is the way it's supposed to be any more, he thought. The feelings he found boiling inside him for his best friend were new and a little terrifying. He knew that he was with Ginny, that he liked being with Ginny, or had at least liked it at one point. But simply holding Hermione's hand couldn't be considered cheating on his girlfriend.
No, cheating would be kissing her or flirting with her. Cheating would be smiling at her in that special way he knew made her flustered. Cheating would be falling asleep on the couch with her after a long night of studying. And he had never done any of those things.
But…was it cheating if he wanted to?
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*screams* Harry figured it out!!! Gorsh, I thought it was going to take him years to realize his feelings. Everything's a bit on the rocks just now, but it will soon be resolved between Harry and Hermione. I'm promising a horrible, wonderful cliffy at the end of chap 7!! (You're all going to hate me.)
Review! Review! Review!
~ Violet Kefira
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