CHAPTER 16: THE CHRISTMAS INCIDENT
Hermione spent much of the next week trying to get Harry on his own. It had the strange effect of making both Harry and Ron work towards the same goal of keeping her away from him. Harry spent a lot of the time hiding, the boy's bathroom being his preferred haunt, and Ron redoubled his efforts to get Hermione to himself. She, in Harry's opinion, had realised she had finally pushed him too far away. Her desperation and obvious distress and being estranged from him was so blatant that people were starting to beg Harry to speak to her, just so she'd stop bugging them.
'Here you are, Harry,' Dean Thomas said one night before bed, 'its another note from Hermione. Make up with her soon, will you? I'm tired of being a postman for her.'
Harry took the note and set fire to it with his wand, like he had with so many others. He knew what she wanted say, but he wasn't about to hear it. As far as he was concerned, if she wasn't prepared to call off her date with Ron, which she'd made clear she wasn't, then she didn't have anything to say worth hearing. Still, Harry's insides ached at not being on speaking terms with her.
It had been a whole week since Ron had broken the news about his successful invitation to Hermione. This meant Harry would have to endure another two weeks of woe before the dreaded night itself, which Harry decided would already be a painful event. He imagined Hermione going to the ball in the most gorgeous dress with her hair sleek and her face all made up…and being with someone else. It was a thought that kept Harry awake at night.
The upshot of Harry's crumbling emotional state was a decided downturn in his Occlumency class. This annoyed him, too, as Dumbledore had said that Harry was nearly ready to take on Snape, but now his skills were falling away.
'What is it, Harry?' asked Dumbledore one lesson. Harry was on the floor, sweating and panting and weak. It was like he'd felt during Snape's Occlumency torture.
'It's nothing,' Harry lied.
'I think we should leave it there for tonight,' said Dumbledore solemnly.
'But I've only been here half an hour!' Harry protested, 'I can carry on!'
'I don't agree,' said Dumbledore, 'you aren't yourself, you haven't been for the past few lessons. I can't feel any happiness in you, Harry. You are too unfocused to be of any use tonight.'
Harry felt disappointed; the look of pity in Dumbledore's eyes was one he didn't need to see.
'Is it Miss Granger?' Dumbledore asked lightly.
'No,' Harry lied again, purposely avoiding Dumbledore's eyes.
'I know that it is. She has been to see me, you know.'
'Oh has she!' Harry yelled angrily, 'Came to say what a childish waster I am, did she.'
'She did not say that,' said Dumbledore, remaining infuriatingly calm in the face of Harry's rage, 'and nor do I believe she ever would. And you shouldn't believe such things either, not that I am convinced you do.'
'What would you know about it?' Harry spat.
'I have been breaking into your mind for months, Harry,' said Dumbledore, 'I know what you think about most…who you feel for most. Not that I'd need Occlumency for that; your affection for each other is so obvious every teacher, and probably most of the students, have noticed it.'
'Yeah, well,' moaned Harry, conceding that anger wouldn't stop Dumbledore's words being true, 'I just wish the affection was more than one way, that's all.'
'Do you truly believe that it isn't?'
'Mostly, yeah. I didn't used to but now…I just don't know. What should I do?'
'I have many years experience,' smiled Dumbledore, 'both as a man, myself, and as an observer of others. I know many things, but, still, affairs of the heart are some of the most complex to define, explain or advise upon. I have been Headmaster of this school for many years and in no place better than a school can you see the whole spectrum of emotions that we humans are prone to.
'They are heightened by adolescent development, so are more profound and forceful, if I may be so bold, than anywhere else in life. One would hope that adults deal with their feelings in a much more orderly and mature fashion than young people with raging hormones and developing feelings would. Alas, this is not always the case. Love can do funny things to people.'
'But what about girls?' Harry pleaded, 'Love is complicated…not that I'm in love,' he added quickly in a deep, would-be masculine voice, 'but what about girls? Surely they aren't as complicated.'
Dumbledore laughed.
'That is where we all fall down, Harry. Underestimating the opposite sex. Women assume all men are shallow and two-dimensional; men assume all women think as they do. It is little wonder that so many lines get crossed in the murky waters of romance.'
'So, you can't advise me then?' Harry said blankly.
'Well, I will say this. True love will always triumph…in the end. If the connection is there then eventually the path will be walked. As for girls, only girls themselves can advise you there, and even the most knowledgable woman doesn't know all there is no know about womanhood. I believe it is another thing studied in the Department of Mysteries….'
As Harry trundled out of Dumbledore's office and down the corridor, he made his mind up; if becoming an Auror was too difficult, or he found the lifestyle didn't suit him, then he'd become an Unspeakable. He'd work in the Department of Mysteries and solve all the problems. Then he'd publish a book on women, love, jealousy and maybe one on the addiction of popping bubble wrap. They'd all be bestsellers.
Harry took a leisurely stroll around the corridors and eventually arrived in front of the portrait of the fat lady at around 9 o'clock. He gave the password, which he wished would change to 'Love is the enemy,' and he clambered through into the common room. Harry expected everyone to be downstairs at dinner but he found Ginny and Ron hadn't yet gone down. Ginny seemed to have been talking before he'd come in.
'-perio!' she said. Harry was unnerved to find her wand pointing at Ron's head.
'What are you two doing?' Harry asked suspiciously.
'Oh, Harry! Nothing, just…just…a laughing jinx. I read it somewhere,' Ginny said through unfocused eyes; Harry noticed Ron's expression was vacant and blank, too.
'What does it do?' Harry implored, still suspicious.
'Makes you laugh…cheers you up. You're supposed to laugh now, Ron. If it worked. RON!' Ginny said vehemently.
'Ha ha ha!' Ron said blindly, his voice forced and squeaky.
'What was that incantation I heard?' Harry said a little more forcefully, not believing a word Ginny was saying.
'Um…it was…sim-sum…uh…stuperio!'
'Try it on me,' said Harry, 'I could use a laugh.'
'O-Ok,' Ginny stuttered.
She muttered the incantation with little confidence. Nothing happened.
'Not very good is it,' Harry snapped, 'what's really going on.'
'Nothing,' replied Ginny nervously, 'I knew it wouldn't work. It was a crap spell.'
'Then why'd it work on Ron? You told him to laugh and he did. It worked on him.'
'I don't know Harry,' whimpered Ginny desperately, 'I'm going to dinner. Are-are you coming.'
'I want to know-'
The portrait hole opened. It was Hermione.
'Harry!' she breathed, 'Have you had dinner? Are you staying up here? We can talk in private.'
'No,' said Harry coldly, 'I'm just going down to eat, now. C'mon Gin,'
Hermione looked disconsolate. Harry wished she hadn't made him do these things to her. He had to do something, he was plagued by the fear of losing what they'd discovered between them.
'Look,' said Harry as Ginny and Ron flopped out of the portrait hole, 'I've told you what to do if you want to talk to me. If you don't want to do it, fine. But I'm not talking to you until this whole ball thing is over.'
'Ok, that's fair…I s'pose,' said Hermione sadly, 'but Harry can you answer me just two questions?'
'Just two.'
'Good. One is: have you lost the feelings you had for me? And two: are you going to invite anyone to the ball?'
She looked apprehensive and hopeful. Harry wanted so much to lie, but Hermione had a way of making him decent and honest. Harry chuckled at the thought of Hermione making an honest man out of him.
'The answer is no to both questions,' said Harry sharply. Hermione seemed to smile just a fraction and Harry knew he'd done the right thing.
It was now just a week before the ball. Harry had made good on his promise not to invite anyone but would have liked to be involved with all the chatter surrounding it. Indeed, he would have loved to be arguing Hermione's merits against the dates the other boys had. Ron's defence of Hermione was insulting.
'Yeah, well,' Seamus said during their debate in the common room one evening, 'Hermione is nothing to Parvati. No offence…to both of you.'
'None taken,' Harry and Ron said together and, oddly, both laughed.
'I still can't believe she said she'd go with me,' continued Seamus, 'I mean…one of the best-looking girls in the year. My luck knows no bounds!'
'Surprised Lavender took longer than Parvati to get a date,' speculated Dean, 'Her and Parvati usually do things together but not this time. I asked her but she said she said she wanted to ask someone else first.'
'Then how come she is going with you?' Ron asked.
'Apparently, she asked the bloke and he said no. What an idiot!'
Harry didn't want to break Dean's euphoria of securing Lavender by confessing it was he that she'd asked first. She had hung back after Harry's practical defence class last Friday and popped the question then.
'Harry, can I have a word,' she asked.
'Yeah, sure,' Harry replied, 'Question about the class?'
'No,' she said, blushing madly, 'I was just wondering if you…I know you haven't got a date and I haven't either…just, do you want to go to the ball with me?'
Harry was too flabbergasted to answer right away.
'I mean…I know…' Lavender said quickly, 'I know that I'm…I'm not Hermione Granger and everything but we are friends, aren't we? I might take your mind off things. Might do you good…change of scenery and everything.'
She was smiling so sweetly at him that he was on the verge of saying yes. But he couldn't.
'Look,' Harry started slowly, 'I'm sorry, I just can't. It'd be an honour to go with you, I mean, you are one of the best looking girls in the school. But it wouldn't be right. It's not you…its just that I'm quite, you know, hurt about Hermione. It wouldn't be fair on you to say yes. For one, I'd be a crap date; two, my mind would be elsewhere and three, it wouldn't be right to be there when I was wishing I was with someone else. Do you get that? I know how horrible it sounds, and how I'll probably regret saying no once I see you in your ball gown, but I'm going to have to. You deserve to go with someone who will respect you totally all night and dedicate themselves to just you. I cant promise to do that, and like you said, we're friends, and it would be disrespectful to that. I'm sorry.'
'Well,' smiled Lavender, 'at least you're honest. I didn't expect you to say yes but I thought I'd try anyway,' she moved to the door and looked back over her shoulder, 'just between you and me though, Hermione Granger must be crazy. Ron Weasley over you? Psycho. Just wish I could turn your head like she does, maybe then you'd go with me. I'd never let you out of my sight if I were her, knowing how she does that you like her. Just hope she's worth it.'
And that was it. She disappeared around the corner leaving Harry red faced and confused. Just how many girls did like him? He was certain of one thing, though; Hermione definitely was worth it. All the pain, the shame, the suffering. He'd endure it all if it meant she'd come back to him in the end.
In the couple of days before the ball the owl post in the morning was more chaotic than usual. Hogwarts had become number one customer of Miss Butterfly's Boutique. The amount of make up, hair products and party outfits and accessories flooding into the school was a sight to be seen, almost as much as the girls' haste to hide all their things, not wanting to let their secrets out before the big night. One surprise was Justin Finch-Fletchley, who was the recipient of a full set of face products including, eyeliner, mascara and foundation. He didn't spend much time in public after these gifts were dropped on his table at breakfast.
Harry, for not wanted to be left out of the post, ordered his Christmas presents a month early. He had bought Ron a set of replica Chudley Cannon robes and a book he hoped Hermione would love. She had certainly liked his book present last year, he just didn't want to be seen hitting the same well too many times.
The day of the ball finally came around and lessons were cancelled before lunch; the absence of so many of the girls from these classes meant that teachers felt it pointless to teach the class with it so empty. Harry again noticed how many girls Hogwarts seemed to hold, noticeable only by the fact it looked so empty when they were all off beautifying themselves.
'What do they do for all those hours?' Ron asked incredulously as they discussed it over lunch.
'I dunno, must be delicate, though,' Harry speculated.
'And painful,' Ron added, 'Ginny's got this jar of weird gel called Wax Works Hair Removal. Smells like honeysuckle but I heard Ginny scream when she uses it. But she never seems bald after it.'
'I don't think its meant for head hair,' explained Harry.
'Oh…oh!' s Ron said as it dawned on him, 'Down there! Ouch! That must kill!'
'No!' yelled Harry quite disgusted, 'Its meant for leg hair I think.'
'Oh, I get it,' said Ron, his face the colour of his hair, 'that might not be too bad.'
'I wouldn't wanna do it,' said Harry forcefully.
They continued the conversation all though lunch, each speculation growing more and more absurd with every passing moment. Eventually, they called a halt to the debate, deciding they'd gone to far when discussing skin grafts and acne plucking for improving the skin. These seemed a bit too impossible even for the mad girls they knew.
The ball was due to start at 7:30 and all students had to be there at that time. Harry pulled out his bottle green dress robes, pleased to find that they weren't creased and still looked brand new. Hardly surprising when they'd only been used once. Ron's new dress robes, bought with Harry's Triwizard winnings, were a dusky blue and very shiny. Ron spent a huge amount of time on his hair, lathering it with strange foam that made his hair look like it had been glued in place. He broke several teeth off his comb when he tried to run it through his hair, eventually giving up and letting it flop down.
'Its no good,' he said giving up, 'my hair's useless. We're in the same boat there, aren't we?'
Harry had no choice but to agree. Still, it had worked for his dad once upon a time, maybe old trends could come back into style. Then he would be a fashion icon. He had a disturbing mental image of himself trotting down a catwalk to flashing cameras, his hair flowing behind him in a breeze, sunglasses perched down his nose.
'Let's go down!' Harry said suddenly, desperate to escape his catwalk self.
'How come you didn't get a date?' Ron asked as they walked down the stairs towards the common room, 'I bet loads of girls would have gone with you. You're a star after all.'
'A couple asked me,' Harry replied diplomatically, hiding the fact he knew he been asked by more people than Ron and Hermione combined, 'I just couldn't be bothered. Too much hassle, you know? I get talked about enough as it is, I just fancied a night off from it all.'
'Don't blame you, mate,' said Ron nodding vigorously.
They entered the common room to find it like a stopping point; dates meeting each other, admiring each other, then speeding towards the Great Hall to show each other off. Hermione was there already; Harry had to catch his breath before he spoke to her. Ron, Harry thought, should have looked more impressed than he did. Hermione looked fabulous after all.
She had obviously bought a new robe to replace her periwinkle blue one that she wore to the Yule Ball. Harry remembered that girls loved to shop, especially for clothes, so it should have been little surprise to see Hermione's new outfit. This was a tight dress of deep scarlet with twinkly bits around the neck and chest. It had long sleeves and flowed out at the base. Harry was hypnotised.
'Hi,' she said breathlessly, 'You look lovely, Harry. Shame you haven't got someone to enjoy you. Where's Ron?'
'Talking to Parvati and Seamus,' said Harry, still goggling at Hermione, 'You look stunning. There's no other word for it. Just hope Ron appreciates you.'
Hermione beamed for a few moments before Ron whisked her away.
'Are you coming down?' Ron asked.
'Yeah, you two go on though,' said Harry, 'couples go in together. I might try and slip in unnoticed when it's started. Maybe I can sneak in undetected. I think I'm the only one without a date.'
Hermione looked heartbroken but Harry gave her an encouraging smile. She looked so pretty that he forgot he wasn't speaking to her.
'She looks nice,' said Lavender as Harry stared longingly at Hermione as she walked away.
'Yep,' said Harry resignedly, before noticing Lavender, 'You look great too. Told you that you would.'
'Yeah, well,' Lavender giggled, 'see what you're missing? All this could have been yours! Ah well, next time I just have to fall for someone who fancies me for a change!'
She surprised Harry by giving him a little peck on the cheek and he cheered up slightly. Dean whipped her away from Harry, beaming uncontrollably and giving him a thumbs up. Harry winked back and Dean guided Lavender through the portrait hole. The common room emptied slowly and Harry was left alone, thinking how silly he looked in a magic school, on his own, in a dress. There was a joke there somewhere, Harry just couldn't find it.
He waited for about half an hour before deciding he couldn't avoid it any longer. He traipsed down the corridors, ignoring Peeves even when he sent a gust of wind up from under Harry that sent the hem of his dress robes over his head. Harry hurriedly disentangled himself from his robes, which turned out to be quite a job, as Peeves' maniacal laughter echoed along the empty hall. Harry looked around to make sure nobody had seen him in his underwear, then made for the Great Hall.
It was dark inside with only a few hundred of the usual thousands of candles lighting up the place. The house tables were stacked against one wall, replaced by many, many smaller tables, most of which were occupied by students. The large space in front of the teacher's table had been converted into a massive dance floor, filled with jiving students. Most of the girls seemed to be having the time of their lives while most of the boys seemed awkward and ungainly, casting hopeless glances at their friends for guidance. Problem was, most of their friends were about as bad as they were leaving them all a state. All except Justin Finch-Fletchley who was dancing madly, but with a respectable degree of coordination, in robes of mauve.
The music, Harry noticed, wasn't being provided by a live band, like at the Yule Ball. Instead, a huge grey and black funnel-shaped object was perched on a raised platform at the top of the dance floor. Students were going up to it, scribbling on bits of parchment and depositing them in the funnel. Harry realised that this was some kind of jukebox and students were requesting songs. This became annoying quite quickly, as the current Weird Sisters hit was played three times in seven songs.
Harry slinked to a table on the edge of the hall, just away from the dance floor. He noticed all his friends were already up dancing. Ron was doing a kind of manic jig to a swing-type song while Hermione swayed on the spot next to Parvati. Seamus was trying to join Ron in his psychotic jumping about but couldn't seem to find the right time to jump in. Hermione was looking around dejectedly, Harry hoped she was looking to find him. The caged beast in his chest jumped up, as she suddenly beamed as she spotted him and waved exuberantly. Harry sort of saluted with his index figure but declined her request to join them on the dance floor.
As the night wore on and the atmosphere became more drowsy and relaxed, Harry thought going to these things alone wasn't all bad. He had been brought copious amount of Butterbeer by people feeling sorry for him not getting a date, and those he turned down. He had even got up to dance after Ron and Seamus demanded he, Hermione and Dean taught them the dance to the Macarena. Harry was glad Justin Finch-Fletchley knew it because he didn't have a clue.
As he was sat down most of the time, Hermione had manipulated her dancing group to move near to Harry. This meant he could talk to them quite often, especially when Luna made Ron chat to her. Harry found he liked the situation quite well and was able to chat to Hermione quite a bit. He was in a good enough mood to forgive her going with Ron and the whole evening was going well. Somewhere, deep inside, Harry knew it couldn't last.
There was a crash over on one side of the room that caught most people's attention. Harry was stunned to find Cho Chang stumbling drunkenly around the room. She was swaying and falling into chairs and tables knocking them over. Several people were laughing but it was when she spotted Harry that she was pushed over the edge.
'I'd be careful if I were you,' Ernie MacMillan warned as he walked past Harry, 'she got hold of some Ogden's Old Fire whiskey, the Slytherins have been flogging it all night. She's totally drunk and she's been saying few choice things about you all night. Here she comes…'
Ernie ducked away as Cho tumbled into the table next to Harry's.
'Wh-what you - hic - laughing at - hic -' she said drunkenly, her eyes bleary and unfocused.
'Nothing,' said Harry, a grin fighting to get on his face.
'Don't know - hic - why you're laugh - hic -ing,' Cho continued, 'got nothing to - hic - laugh at.'
'What's that supposed to mean?' Harry asked.
'It means - hic - that you're a…a…joke really,' Cho said nastily, 'I cant believe I liked you. You're so boring and so minging. You cant - hic - talk to girls, you have silly hair and you are the worst kisser in school.'
'And I bet you've tried plenty!' Hermione stabbed, her face fuming and angry.
'And you!' Cho rounded on Hermione, 'You can stay - hic - out of it. Darling Hermione. If it wasn't for you…nevermind. It doesn't matter - hic - Harry would have been a rubbish boyfriend anyway. He kisses like a troll probably would and his breath smells.'
'Ok ok, that's enough.' It was Michael Corner, Cho's boyfriend, 'Sorry about this. She can't take the drink. Ignore her, she's been talking like this all night.'
'About me?' Harry said aghast.
'Well…mostly, yeah,' Michael Corner said with a sniping grin, before he whisked Cho away, who was still shouting insults in Harry's direction.
Hermione made to smooth Harry's arm to console him but Ron dragged her away.
'C'mon its slow dance time,' Ron said briskly, before tossing Hermione around in a painful sort of waltz to a song Harry recognised as Careless Whisper, a Muggle song.
Hermione kept sending pained and sorry looks in Harry's direction, but he was too humiliated to acknowledge them. Cho was still shouting obscenities about Harry to anyone who'd listen, and everyone that could hear. Hermione seemed to be guiding Ron towards Harry; Ron was fighting to take her the other way.
'Oh, look what you've gone Granger,' Pansy Parkinson said in a horrible baby voice, much like Bellatrix Lestrange, 'look what you've done to Potter!'
Hermione looked quickly and questioningly from Harry to Pansy and back again.
'What are you on about?' Hermione shouted.
'Look how depressed he is? And its all your fault. You've broken his little heart. Awww! All the disasters he's had in his life, losing his parents, living with Muggles, being shockingly ugly. Now you've broken him in half by dumping him for Weasley…what an insult! I hate him but even I feel sorry for him on this one. I know Potter's bad, but Weasley? I thought you could sink no lower, Mudblood!'
Pansy laughed as Blaise Zabini guided her away. Hermione looked so mortified that Harry was sure she'd cry. But Ron finally found the impetus he needed and steered her across the hall. The insults didn't seem to have registered with him.
Hermione positively sprinted back across the hall once the song had finished and sat down next to Harry. He spoke before she did.
'Don't listen to Pansy,' he said quickly, 'the day to start listening to what the Slytherins say is the day we deserve to be shot!'
'But was she wrong?' Hermione asked apprehensively.
'Not on…everything,' Harry said truthfully; Hermione bit her lip, looking like she wanted to die. Ron came back over and sat down quite jovially, not caring that Hermione and scarpered from him at the first chance she got. Harry thought he wore a look that said his night's work was done.
A few songs later and a tune came on that Harry recognised. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon weren't big lovers of music, apart from one act. Someone called Simon and Garfunkle. Harry could recall many Christmas and New Years parties at Privet Drive when both Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would have a little too much sherry and sing spine-chilling duets of their favourite group's songs. The one playing now was the only one he liked.
'I know this one,' he said vaguely to Hermione, 'Bridge Over Troubled Water. Its quite nice.'
'Ron,' said Luna coming up for the umpteenth time, 'come and dance with me.'
Ron didn't resist at all, not that he done the fourteen other times Luna had asked him to dance, and left Harry and Hermione alone. By this time most of the other students had left the hall, some for bed but most, Harry suspected, for late night shenanigans in the most secluded spots Hogwarts had to offer. Hermione got up and Harry prepared to say good night. Instead, though, Hermione stood in front of him and held out her hands. Harry's heart started to pump hard and fast under his ribs.
'Dance with me, Harry,' she said. It wasn't a request or a statement, or even a demand. But it was something Harry had no choice, or no objection for that matter, but to do. Hermione led Harry to the dance floor; he shuddered all over when she guided both his hands around her and placed them on the small of her back. Harry's breath was coming so quickly now that it was making his lips dry and his tongue itchy. Hermione put her hands around Harry's neck and drew him into her, placing her head softly against his chest. He could feel her chest moving up and down as fast as his was and knew all the nervousness he felt she was experiencing too. He just hoped she was as comfortable as he was.
Harry held her tight as they swayed in time to the music. Harry had forgotten the song by now, captivated by the warmth of Hermione's body, the lush scent of her hair as his face was buried in it. He lost control one time and kissed the top of her head, recoiling quickly as soon as he did. He was glad to find she didn't move; either she didn't mind it or didn't feel it. Harry was ok with either option.
Harry wasn't sure how long they'd danced but knew that the song had changed at least twice and they hadn't moved. It was only when the music stopped and Dumbledore announced to the remaining slow dancing couples that it was 12:30 and bedtime. Hermione took Harry's hand and led him away.
'Lets go upstairs,' she said with a smile.
Harry followed her, not strong enough in his ability to think to do anything else. He noticed that he and Hermione were one of only four couples left and that Ron was nowhere to be seen. Strange sounds of muffled giggling and awkward movement seemed to be coming from everywhere; empty classrooms, broom cupboards, even behind suits of armour and statues. Harry knew that few people would take Dumbledore's advice and go to bed.
Harry and Hermione entered the common room to find it empty, which Harry thought was surprising. The fire was still roaring so he and Hermione sat down on the hearthrug. At first, Harry couldn't look at her, not really sure what to say. He was so lost in emotions that were dominating him that he couldn't manage speech.
'What's up?' Hermione asked eventually, her questioning eyes peering into him.
'Nothing.' Harry said, his voice going oddly squeaky.
'Are you thinking about what Cho said?' Hermione asked, her tone almost seductive.
'Which bit?' Harry said wearily.
'The bit about you being a bad kisser?' she said tentatively.
'A little,' replied Harry, where was this going?
'Well, I think she's wrong,' said Hermione defiantly.
'How'd you know? She could be right. I haven't exactly got a point of reference have I?'
'Well,' said Hermione slowly, weighing up every word as if debating whether or not to say what she was about to, 'I have an idea. How about you…' she gulped heavily, '…um, practice…on me. Then I can tell you if you're bad or not.'
Harry felt his fingers trembling where his leg was pressing down on them. His chest was shaking so much that Harry thought at any moment it would break free and smash through the window and sail to a wild life in the Forbidden Forest with the old Ford Anglia.
'How-how will you know?' Harry stuttered nervously.
'Call it woman's intuition,' said Hermione calmly, her tone leaving Harry wondering why she wasn't more nervous.
'O-OK,' Harry stuttered again, 'what do you want me to do?'
'Right,' said Hermione gleefully, shifting up so that her knees touched Harry's, sending a wave of flutters through his body, 'all you do is lean in slowly. Moisten your lips a little, brush your nose against mine then just move your head till our lips touch and press lightly. Got it?'
'How do you know so much about this?' Harry asked shrewdly.
'Oh well,' said Hermione matter-of-factly, 'I go around Hogwarts snogging every boy I find! Where do I get all my information from, Harry?'
'Books?'
'Yes. It just so happens that I read a copy of Witch Weekly that Lavender had. Tips of the Kiss was the article. Very informative. Shall we try it?'
Harry wasn't sure if he nodded or if his head just spasmed. He moved his head in slowly…Hermione did the same. Harry tried to line up his head with hers so that their noses would touch like she said. He saw her close her eyes, so he did the same. It was much harder to guide in the dark. Then it happened.
'Ouch, Harry!' Hermione giggled.
'Sorry,' mumbled Harry, rubbing his nose from where he'd banged it ungainly into Hermione's.
'Its ok,' she said, still giggling, 'lets try again.'
This time Harry was able to hold his head steady. This was despite the pressure and pulses spinning around inside it. His stomach was quivering so much he felt like he was going to be sick, but he knew that this time he'd do it. Second time was, after all, a charm.
Harry thought that Hermione must have pulled away because he couldn't find her face and felt like he'd been moving in for ages. He was about to open his eyes and look when he felt his nose brush against hers. Her skin was soft and warm and the first contact sent tickles of electricity through him causing his body to shake, It didn't matter this time though, as he felt Hermione's do the same.
He let the tip of his nose slide down the side of Hermione's towards her cheek. They were too close, now, and Harry was definite in the conviction that his body was on the verge of collapse. He felt Hermione's hands move into his lap and grab his own, both sets trembling furiously. Soon, Harry felt his nose touch Hermione's cheek and the important part was coming up.
He tilted his head up slightly and slowly, feeling Hermione do the same. Then the connection. It wasn't like with the noses, no harsh bumps and embarrassment. This time Harry felt his lips smooth against Hermione's as they found each other. Harry's first feeling, after euphoric brain explosion, was that this was nothing like it was with Cho. This was right, this was perfect…the way it was meant to be. And he loved it.
For a few moments they stayed like that, lips frozen and pressed lightly against each other. Then, Hermione applied a little more pressure and Harry responded in kind. Hermione started to move her lips around slowly, occasionally breaking with parts of Harry's only to return with more pressure. After a minute or so, Harry felt Hermione's hand snake up his arm and around his neck, getting lost in his hair as Hermione tilted his head. The passion was more than Harry could bare, not that he wanted it to stop. But, as Harry had found out in the past, there can be no pleasure without pain.
'Just cant help yourself can you!'
It was Ron and he was furious. Harry and Hermione flew apart quickly but neither had an excuse this time.
'Why do you have to have everything? She was my date!' Ron screamed.
'Yeah, but that isn't my lipstick on your cheek,' said Hermione quietly.
'I thought you wanted to be friends!' Ron yelled ignoring Hermione, his voice, Harry noticed, was higher and shriller than ever, 'And you do this!'
'I do want to be friends,' Harry said getting to his feet, 'I'm sorry. I just can't fight this anymore. I've tried all year to deny it.'
'Deny what?' Ron spat.
'I care for Hermione,' said Harry, 'Its too much. You were right when you said she's all I think about. She is, from when I get up to when I go to bed. I can't stop it.'
'So you think nicking her on my date was ok do you?'
'No, but she should've been with me. Don't think you would have noticed anyway, not with Luna distracting you!'
'Don't you compare Luna to this…to this,' Harry knew Ron was winding up to a punishing insult, 'this…MUDBLOOD!'
Ron's next thought, Harry considered later, must have been what it felt like to fall face first onto the flagged stone of the common room floor. Because this was where Ron was moments later, sporting a nose now slightly off centre. Harry, despite his knuckles starting to ache, dived at Ron but Hermione got between them. Ron kicked out under Hermione's arm and caught Harry in the stomach, sending him reeling back and over an armchair.
Ron was up and had his wand out. Harry dived behind a table as Ron's spell shattered an empty Butterbeer bottle. Harry whipped out his own wand, he knew Ron was really no match for him.
'Expelliarmus!' Harry yelled.
Ron's wand soared in the air and he stumbled backwards into Hermione.
'Stupefy!' Harry bellowed.
What Ron did next Harry was sure would end their friendship for ever. As Harry began the incantation, Ron grabbed Hermione and dragged her in front if him. Harry couldn't stop himself and the force of the spell, due to his anger at Ron, was strong enough to fling Hermione out of Ron's grip and into the wall. She was knocked cold, a trickled of blood coming from her mouth.
'Hermione!' Harry whimpered meekly as he raced over, 'Get away!' he screamed at Ron, who looked genuinely distraught.
'Harry…I'm sorry…I don't know what's happening to me,' stuttered Ron.
'Just get away,' hissed Harry.
'Harry…'
Harry was overcome with a fury so terrible that his scar prickled and he had the impression he was sending Voldemort some powerful emotion. He took Ron by the shoulders and cracked his head against his own. It had seemed a good idea at the time but now his head was searing in pain. Ron stumbled away, tears in his eyes and up the dormitory stairs. Harry, tears in his own eyes, scooped up Hermione and clambered with her through the portrait hole. He would take her to the hospital wing wishing two things. One was that Madame Pomfrey was awake; the second, was that Hermione would find some way to forgive him. She just had to. If she didn't then either he or Ron would be soon going to meet Sirius.
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