Chapter 1- The Law of Inertia
Every body perseveres in its state of being at rest or of moving uniformly straight ahead, except insofar as it is compelled to change its state by forces impressed.
-Newton's First Law of Motion
Harry, Ron and Hermione walked into the kitchen of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. It had been a long day. The three of them had come home early that morning tired, dirty, but accomplished. Together they'd taken out Voldemort's sixth horcrux, his pet snake Nagini. It had taken them three years since they'd left Hogwarts. But finally, Voldemort was now just as mortal, arguably moreso, than any of them.
But there was no time for celebration. There was now the question of how and when to engage Voldemort. They had spent the day strategizing with the rest of the Order and researching offensive and protective spells, anything that would help to prepare them for this last battle. It was almost over.
For the moment, though, they were emerging from the library at Grimmauld Place to have a quick dinner, then practice some of what they'd learned today. Ron made a beeline for the refrigerator and pulled out some pumpkin juice, chugging it straight from the jug while taking out a huge sandwich and placing it on the table. Hermione put on some water for tea, and Harry went to the cabinet for some butterbeer.
As the three of them puttered about, the flames in the fireplace roared to life. Ron froze, his hand still holding up the jug of juice, and swallowed. "What now?"
Hermione spared him an irritated glance.
"Hullo, Remus," Harry said as the older man stepped out into the room.
"Good evening," Remus Lupin said as he dusted off his robes, then offered a hand back into the flames to help his wife, Nymphadora Tonks, into the kitchen as well. She straightened and nodded at each of them in turn.
"Wotcher, Harry, Hermione, Ron," Tonks greeted with little of her usual liveliness.
"What's happened?" Harry asked without preamble. Tonks looked up at Remus, who gave her a nod.
"Horace Slughorn's body was found this afternoon at a muggle residence in Kent ," Tonks informed them. "The Dark Mark was over the house."
"We're fairly certain this means that-"
Harry interrupted Remus. "It means Voldemort knows that we've destroyed his horcruxes, now that Nagini's gone, and he's realized how we found out they existed in the first place." He sat down, raking his hands through his hair and stared at the floor.
"Harry…" Hermione reached out for his hand but Harry shook her off, looking back up at Remus and Tonks. "It means that another innocent person is dead because of me."
"It's ridiculous that you would be blaming yourself for this," Hermione said briskly. "Slughorn told Riddle about horcruxes decades before you were even thought of."
"And if he'd never retrieved that memory for me, he might still be alive."
"Hermione's right, Harry," Remus said. "Slughorn was murdered, unfortunately, only because he once had the information and gave it to Riddle. Voldemort lashing out now has less to do with what Slughorn told you than it has to do with the fact that he's angry. His plan has failed, Harry. You three foiled it."
"That's another reason why we're here," Tonks put in. "At this point, we don't know what Voldemort's planning or where he is. But you need to be careful, because now that he knows his horcruxes have all been destroyed, he may be even more aggressive in his search for you, possibly even attack people close to you to try and smoke you out, get you to come to him, on his turf."
Harry's eyes went to Ron, then lingered on Hermione. His heart raced.
Remus studied the three of them , now arranged around the kitchen table. Ron was slouching, his long legs stretched off to the side in his chair with his arm haphazard across the table, staring into the empty fireplace. Harry's hand moved periodically, repeatedly through his tousled hair, and his right knee bobbed up and down as he rested his elbow on it - the embodiment of stress. Remus felt the all-familiar pang of grief for his best friends son, and all that he was still dealing with at his age. Hermione's eyes were on Harry, searching his face, with a worried frown furrowing her eyebrows. She looked about five seconds from either fleeing the room or throwing her arms around Harry.
A different type of stress altogether, Remus mused, as he and his wife shared a glance.
"It's important that you not take action against Voldemort right away," he went on. Hermione looked sharply back up at him, then back to Harry anxiously. "We'll need to move on this sooner than later, but even with the horcruxes, Voldemort will have had plenty of reinforcements, and now…well, obviously we'll want to have as many Aurors and Order members as possible mobilized and ready to stand with you. Right now, Tonks and I will call another Order meeting for tomorrow, if that works for you." He paused and glanced at Harry, who nodded.
"Alright, then, we're going to go now, and you three get some rest. You've had a long day." He took some powder from the jar on the mantel and stepped through the flames after his wife.
"Good night," Hermione said distractedly, even though Remus and Tonks had already left. They sat in silence for some time, then Hermione broke it.
"Well, this doesn't really have to change anything. We knew that Voldemort must have realized, now that his snake is gone. I mean, for all we know, he knew each time we destroyed a horcrux. This isn't exactly news, is it? I mean we know he knew when you destroyed the diary."
"But he had no reason to believe I knew about horcruxes at twelve. He only knew because Lucius Malfoy told him I destroyed it. He didn't feel it or anything," Harry said. "Obviously, I need to move in on him more quickly than we thought."
Ron spoke up. "You mean, we do," He said quietly. Harry looked gratefully up at his best mate, nodded.
Hermione looked as if she were seriously struggling not to say anything. She failed.
"Yes, but Professor Lupin just said we shouldn't do anything rash," she said. "We need to be really prepared. I know that he's just human now, but he's still very powerful. We've gone a long way toward getting rid of some of his supporters, but he'll still have plenty of reinforcements."
Harry shook his head. "I only need to get rid of him, then his followers will fall apart."
"You don't know that, and even if you did, it's too dangerous not to wait until we've planned this out sufficiently. Merlin, Harry, we don't even know where he is! "
Ron piped up again. "We've got some idea, though. We should start at the Riddle House."
"Yeah- yeah, we'll start there, we'll go to Little Hangleton," Harry agreed. "Even if he's not there, we know there'll be people there who can lead us to him."
"And have you any idea how heavily that place is warded?" Hermione said in response. "We need to do reconnaissance, we need to find out about any wards, any traps that may be in place, and figure out how to get past or neutralize them. We need to-"
Harry cut her off with a growl of frustration. "There is no time for that, Hermione." his voice was still quiet, but insistent, his eyes intense on hers. "We're so close. I just want to finish this. If he wants me to come to him, then I'll oblige him. I don't want him coming after you - an-any of you," he corrected hastily, "just to try and get to me."
"Harry, I understand, but I just don't think it's wise for us to go charging off now, just because-" She broke off, sighed, changed tacks. "Look, I was just reading today about this really old detection charm that looks really promising. All it needs is-"
Ron didn't let her finish. "Look, Hermione, just drop it, alright?" Hermione turned to him agitatedly and opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her. "It's like Harry said, it's almost over. Quit nagging, and let's just get it done."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, alright, then," she said sarcastically. "I had no idea it was that simple. 'Just get it done.' Gee - I don't know what's been holding us up for nine years, when all we needed to do was just 'get it done.' " She turned back to Harry.
"You understand what I'm saying right, Harry?" Hermione pressed. "Just promise me you won't-"
"Look- Hermione, I'm sorry, but we can't waste any more time." Harry said.
"But Harry-" She pleaded, reaching for him.
"Hermione, I don't want to hear it! " Harry stopped her. "I'm doing this tomorrow, and that's final. God- why do you always have to be so-" He didn't finish. He didn't have to. Hermione froze.
"Fine," she said, nodding. "Fine- do whatever you want. I'm going to bed." She got up so quickly from the table that the tops of her thighs bumped painfully against its edge. She blinked back tears and rushed upstairs.
"Shite," Harry said.
Ron shrugged. "I agree with you, mate. She'll get over it, she always does."
This didn't sit well with Harry. He'd upset her, put tears in her eyes. He had to see if she was alright, and try to explain. He got up from the table
"I'm just going to-" He gestured vaguely in the direction of the stairs.
"Yeah, rather you than me." Ron said. "I don't ever know what to say to her."
Well, neither did Harry, really, he mused as he headed in the direction Hermione had gone. He just knew that his friend was upset, and that it was his fault. That's right, Potter, he told himself. She's your best friend. That's it. Of course, telling himself that only confused him more, considering the whole "just friends" argument didn't really explain why he'd been feeling like such a bumbling idiot lately.
He couldn't very well tell her that the reason why he'd lashed out was that he'd been more deeply disturbed than perhaps he should have been by the thought of giving Voldemort any time to get to her. Certainly she'd be frightened if he told her that the thought of Voldemort even getting near her brought him to such a state of panic that it was all he could do not to scoop her up and whisk her somewhere far away, from all of it, from him. It definitely frightened Harry.
And, of course, he wasn't about to let her know that the fact was that he couldn't bloody well think when she got all close, so that he could smell her, and touched his arm or his hand in that concerned, comforting way she always did.
So, what the hell was he going to say to her? He knocked on her bedroom door.
-==-==-==-==-
Hermione blew out a breath as she went into her bedroom and shut the door. She wasn't crying. Not completely. She dashed away a few wayward tears.
But damn it, why was it that he could get to her like this? She and Ron had said horrible things to each other on numerous occasions, and she'd never come away feeling so badly. And Harry hadn't even finished his sentence. It was infuriating, is what it was.
And anyway, all she'd been trying to do was make sure the stupid sod came out of this alive. If he didn't want to listen to her, fine. What she really needed to do was learn how to take a step back. Not get so emotional about things that it was obvious she couldn't control.
Right. She had to chuckle at that one herself.
Oh, but she hated the way they treated her sometimes, like she was this niggling pest, just because she liked to engage her brain before acting most of the time.
Or worse, like she was their bleeding mother or something.
But that was only part of it, she had to accept. What she hated the most was the thought that Harry would never see her as anything more than his slightly annoying but often useful other best friend.
Sad thing about it was that she would accept it regardless, because she needed so badly just to be in his life in any capacity. Of course, it didn't in the slightest change the fact that she was in love with him.
Back when he'd been with Ginny, she'd wondered if she could be like that, if she could somehow just defer prettily to his heroism the way Ginny and the others did. Could she be that girl?
No, she'd known him too long and was way too familiar with his faults to be star-struck. But was that what he wanted? Apparently not; he and Ginny had played their relationship out. He still hadn't looked twice at Hermione, though, and that had hurt. And when she had turned to Ron, well. It was a disaster, and ended mercifully quickly.
How pathetic was she, to be so desperately in love with someone who would never love her back?
When she heard the knock on her door, she sighed. As much as she wanted to avoid him altogether, she knew they'd have to have this out eventually. She went to the door, but when she saw him standing there, looking all sheepish and apologetic and ridiculously attractive, she lost her nerve.
"I can't talk to you right now, Harry."
"Hermione, I'm sorry."
"Fine. You're sorry. If that's all…" Hermione moved to shut the door, but Harry pushed into the room.
"Hermione, I know you're upset, but I didn't- I just-"
"Just what, Harry?" Hermione demanded. If he'd been about to respond, though, she wasn't hearing it. She stepped forward and poked a finger in his chest.
"You think I get some sort of charge out of this?" Again, no response. "You think 'nagging' at you all day gives me orgasms or something?" Harry frowned and opened his mouth to respond, but Hermione kept going.
"Do you think I could stop, even if I wanted to?" her voice was quiet now, and fierce.
Harry felt like a asshole. "Look, I shouldn't have- I know that you care about me, and you're trying to be a good friend. And I appreciate it, but-"
"Oh," Hermione said. "Well, that's great. I'm so glad my efforts are appreciated." She threw her hands up and turned from him.
"Hey, what do you want me to say to you, Hermione?" Harry demanded. "I'm just trying to apologize here."
"I just want you to understand, Harry," Hermione said desperately. "I know that it annoys you. I wish-" She broke off. "I'm scared all the time, Harry. I'm afraid that I won't have the answers- if we go into this and there's anything that I missed, then something will happen, and it'll be my fault.
"I'm afraid that now Voldemort's horcruxes are gone you'll get it in your head to tear off and try to take him on without us, because I know you, Harry," she insisted, "and you're tired and frustrated, and you just want this to be over, however it ends. But I can't let you- I can't leave anything to chance.
"You've got to survive, Harry. I need you to. And what I fear more than anything else these days is that that's got nothing to do with friendship."
Harry froze in his spot. Hermione slid her eyes shut and pressed her fingers to them, hating herself for bringing all this up with everything else that was going on.
"And…none of this is your problem," she said wearily. "I'm just tired. I'm going to get some air, and some sleep, and I'll be fine tomorrow. Okay? Okay," she answered herself, nodding, and left the room.
Harry stood there for a few moments, blinking. Had she just- was that- ? He was reeling a little bit. Did she mean that? "Hermione, wait." He looked up and realized she was gone. He blinked again.
"Shite! " He tore out after her.
-==-==-==-==-
Hermione stepped out into the courtyard. It was raining, she noted. She would have welcomed a nice soaking thunderstorm, but this was just enough to frizz up her hair. Splendid.
Why couldn't she ever just keep her stupid, sodding mouth shut? Now she'd put something out there that she couldn't take back.
Damn it, he could have said something, though. She winced as she heard the door open and Harry stepped out.
"Harry, this really isn't necessary," she said, not facing him. "It's fine. I'm sorry I overreacted."
"It is necessary," Harry said. "It's just, the thought of something happening to you makes me- I'm really sorry."
"Like I said, it's fine, Harry, you don't have to-"
"I need you, too." Harry cut in quietly.
"Now you- you're just being nice," she said, moving past him to go back inside.
"Hey." He took her wrist gently, turned her so that she was finally facing him. "Funny thing, actually," he said as he moved closer.
"I'm not really that nice."
Something in his voice -and in the way he was slowly trapping her between himself and the door- was making her increasingly nervous, and excited. Was that her pulse throbbing? It didn't seem natural for it to be moving so fast.
Harry forgot his nerves and awkwardness. This was Hermione, he thought. This was easy. This was right. He dipped his head and closed the distance between them with the lightest of pressure against her lips with his. Just a sampling, really, but it was electric. He pulled back slightly, so slowly, the question in his eyes meeting the answer in hers. As he watched her catch her bottom lip with her teeth, imagined her tasting him there, he broke.
Harry crashed his mouth against hers, relishing in the way her lips softly yielded to his. His hands moved to her shoulders and up to frame her face. God, she's sweet, was all he could think. She's so sweet.
Hermione's mind went supremely blank as he took possession of her mouth. The nerves that had already been so close to the surface now jittered along her skin, sensitizing her and rendering her powerless to a rush of raw need she'd never previously experienced. And when he cupped her face, changed his angle, and glided his tongue over her lips, she could only sigh as her lips parted to let him in.
She tasted like heaven. As Harry stroked her tongue with his he heard her moan, a low sound that threatened to sever the last tattered strands of his self control. He couldn't stop a tremor from moving through him. He moved his hands back down to her shoulders, then down her sides in a possessive motion, and took a strong hold on her hips. He pulled her back off of the door and against him. Harry could all but hear the click as their bodies made contact. How was it that she fit so perfectly here?
Oh, his body, Hermione thought faintly. It was long, and lean, and rangy, and he felt like warm, tightly wrapped steel pressed against her. His hands were digging into her hips and she felt alive with need as her tongue wrestled with his. She trembled, her thighs going lax as her hands gripped his shoulders just so she could keep from sliding to the ground.
The way her body felt quaking against his was the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced. It was all Harry could do not to drag her inside and gobble her up in slow, torturous bites. But he tore his mouth from hers on a groan and took in her face, all swollen lips and dreamy, drugged eyes, and he knew he should stop, before…he should just stop. But not before his touched his lips to hers once, twice more, and dipped his head to nip the tip of her chin.
Hermione let out a shaky breath and opened her mouth to speak. Harry just shook his head tersely and grabbed her hand, apparating them both to her bedroom door.
"Is there any point in us pretending that things are going to stop here?" he asked quietly.
Hermione gulped. "Erm…"
Harry let out a half-laugh, half groan as he pulled her to him again. "I don't mean tonight," he said gruffly into her hair.
"Oh. Er, I- I don't suppose there'd be a point in that, no."
"Good," Harry said shortly. "Good." He reached behind her, pushed open the door, and nudged her inside.
"Lock your door" was all he said before he shut it smartly in his own face.
Harry let out a long, slow breath, rested his hand briefly against the door, and walked away.
Hermione did as Harry told her and flipped the lock on the door before leaning against it.
"Merlin, what was that?"
-==-==-==-==-
To be continued with Law # 2 - The law of Gravitation.
Thanks so much for reading. It's my first HP fanfic ever. Is it good so far? Bad?
If you have the time or the inclination, couldja let me know either way? Thanks.
-Heather