THE NEXT DOOR
One Bed For Two
Chapter Six
Harry stared at the Fat Lady. She stared back. "Password?" she asked in a sing-song voice, but Harry didn't respond. For the first time, he realized how many doorways he had passed through…without Hermione.
"What was I thinking?" he cursed aloud.
"I hope you were thinking of the password," the Fat Lady responded. "Otherwise, you'll miss the party."
Harry backed away from the portrait and spun around on his heels. He slammed into Ginny.
"Oof," she said. "Oy, Harry, where are you going?"
"I…" Harry stammered, "…I forgot Hermione…"
"You forgot what?" Ginny asked with a confused expression.
"Hermione," Harry said in a rush. "There's something I needed to tell her." A feeling of panic and separation doubled at the thought of the doors Hermione would be walking through-or had already walked through… What if she's gone? he thought.
Ginny smiled. "She and Ron will be up for the party. You know they always…spend time together after a game."
"They do?" Harry asked stupidly.
Ginny laughed. "Best if you block it out, eh? I feel the same way," she said. "You want to come on inside?" She spoke the password and the portrait swung open. Loud voices and laughter filled the hallway.
He shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "I'll be back." Without saying another word to Ginny, he rushed toward the Entrance Hall and tried not to walk through a single door.
When Harry burst into the Entrance Hall, he saw a frazzled Hermione and a red-faced Ron hurrying through the front doors. Ron wore an expression of bewilderment, but he was close on Hermione heels.
"Hermione," Harry shouted immediately. She made eye contact with him and made a bee-line in his direction. He hurried toward them. "The doors," he said in a rush, "I wasn't thinking. I was worried that you'd-"
"-what's going on, mate?" Ron asked as his expression changed to concern.
"Er…" Harry stammered.
"The party is out of canapés," Hermione said.
"Cana-whats?"
"Hor'dourves," Hermione explained, and when Ron still looked perplexed she sighed in exasperation. "Finger foods, Ron. Little sandwiches, sweets…"
"Oh," he nodded, "you're going to the kitchens then?"
"I…" Harry looked at Hermione, and with a slight headshake from her, he answered, "no, that's okay. Someone else can go. Unless you both want to go, too."
Ron shrugged. "Sure, mate. I'm starved."
Harry tickled the pear and the three of them walked into the kitchens. They were immediately bombarded by house-elves, and Ron took the opportunity to tell them everything he would like to eat. As the house-elves bustled happily away, Ron leaned toward Harry and whispered, "You noticed anything weird going on with Hermione?"
Harry's stomach dropped. He glanced around the kitchen and found her watching him closely. She half-smiled, and he could almost hear the sigh that escaped her lips.
"Er…no, why?"
"Well, at first she was…" Ron's ears reddened, "…she was into it and then like lightning she panicked and acted beserk and said we needed to get back to the common room and talk to you about the game…"
Harry couldn't follow Ron's quick succession of words. "What are you talking about?"
Ron's face, neck and ears matched the vivid red of his hair. "After the game," he whispered as a house-elf shoved a bag of éclairs into his hands, "we…well, you know what we always do…"
Realization dawned across Harry's face. The dark, uncomfortable feeling returned to the pit of his stomach.
"That's right," Ron said quickly when he saw Harry understood. "And she acted nutters halfway through and insisted we leave and get back so we could discuss game strategies with you."
Harry glanced back at Hermione. She was staring pointedly down at her fingernails, but Harry could see the pink blush to her cheeks. She knew what they were discussing, and Harry's cheeks flushed in response to the awkward feeling sliding around in his chest. He swallowed.
"I don't know," Harry said finally. "I don't think anything is different. Not to me," he lied but felt uneasy.
Ron nodded and took more bags of food from the helpful elves. "Think we have enough." He looked to Hermione. "You ready."
Hermione rejoined them and they wound their way up to Gryffindor Tower. Harry and Hermione released a sigh after each doorway they passed through without being transported away. And yet, this new reality, though less abrasive than Harry sorted into Slytherin, was awkward and ill-placed, and each passing minute, was one minute too long.
* * * *
The Gryffindor common room party was uneventful unless the round of Filibuster Fireworks Fred and George let loose were taken into account, but the explosions of color and noise caused Professor McGonagall to bound in and order some peace and quiet.
Hermione slid her way around the common room and squeezed into a seat on the couch next to Harry. The couch was already crowded, and her body barely fit onto the cushion. Most of her body seemed propped on Harry's. He shifted uncomfortably and rubbed his fluttery stomach. Must be the canary creams, he thought.
She turned to him and whispered, "Harry, you shouldn't have left me."
Harry nodded and swallowed. An image of Ron and Hermione kissing entered his mind, and his throat tightened. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"I figured something out," she said.
"Have you, now?" he said with more bitterness than he'd intended. He couldn't seem to rid his mind of Hermione and Ron doing inappropriate things alone together…after every game as Ron and Ginny had felt fit to inform him.
"I think," she said, and leaned closer, "I think we absorb a bit of our altered reality selves."
Harry's brows knitted together. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," she explained, "clearly this Hermione knows how to fly and I, however, do not. Yet, I was able to fly and play Quidditch today."
"And this Hermione is in love with Ron," Harry said without meaning for the words to spill out.
"What?" she questioned and then she blushed. "Yes, I think so." She looked away from Harry. "After the game…"
"I know," Harry said a bit louder than he should have. Several people around them turned to stare. "The Slytherins are always trying to cheat," he said to them, and they took his statement as the reason for his raised voice. Several people agreed with him and then went back to their conversations. He glanced at Hermione and repeated, "I know."
"No, you don't know," she said, and he could hear the annoyance tinting her voice. "You have no idea what happened after the game. If you had not left me, then none of this nonsense would have ever happened."
He glared at her. "You're blaming me for Ron trying to get your knickers off?"
"Why you…what on earth…I can't believe you…" she said, clearly flustered. She pushed herself off Harry, but he grabbed her, and she plopped back down, half on the couch cushion, half in his lap.
"I didn't mean that," Harry said apologetically.
"It's not like I have control over this hair-brained Hermione," she spat in an angry whisper. "Do you also know that Quidditch Star Hermione has let her marks suffer? Can you believe that?!" She was obviously affronted to have learned that she had let her marks suffer even in a alternate reality.
Harry chuckled. He couldn't help himself. Hermione glowered at him. "Come on, Hermione," he said, "this isn't the real you."
"Apologize for saying that…for saying that about my knickers," she said. Her face pinked in embarrassment.
"I didn't mean it," he said.
"Because you…you sounded like a jealous boyfriend," she said.
"A what…" he trailed off, but his thoughts began to wonder. Had he? He shook his head in response to his silent question.
"We can't be separated again," she said as she skirted any more discussion on what had actually happened after the game.
"What do you suggest?" he asked. "Hide out in the library?"
Hermione chewed her bottom lip and as an idea came to her, she gripped Harry's hand. "We can hide in the same dormitory."
"How?" he wondered.
"I can tell Ron that I'm not feeling well," she began in a rushed whisper, "and that I'm going to the Hospital Wing. You can meet me at the portrait hole and give me your invisibility cloak, and I can sneak back up to your dormitory."
"My dormitory?" he asked in a strangled voice.
"You clearly can't get into mine. Remember the stairs turn into a slide?"
Harry nodded, but the fluttery sensation had returned to his stomach. "What are you going to do in my dormitory?"
"Sleep. If we don't get home before then, I'll need to rest," she said. "And I'm afraid for us to separate." She turned her brown eyes up to his. "Aren't you?"
"Well…yeah," he said honestly. "You want the cloak then?" She nodded. "Give me a second to find it and then I'll meet you at the portrait hole." Hermione eased off Harry's lap and scooted through the crowd in search of Ron.
Harry found his invisibility cloak stashed away at the bottom of his trunk. He pushed through the crowded common room and tried to appear nonchalant as he walked to the portrait hole. He crawled through and found Hermione waiting on the other side.
"Find it?" she asked, a breathless quality to her voice.
He handed her the cloak. She draped it around her shoulders and then pulled it over her head.
"You're okay with this right?" she asked.
Harry stared at where he thought her invisible form stood. "Sure, you can borrow the cloak whenever."
"No, I mean with me sharing your dorm bed."
Harry's stomach floated into this throat and then dropped straight into his trainers. "My…my bed," he muttered numbly.
"You're okay, then?" she asked, and Harry sensed her nervousness.
"S-sure," he answered though he didn't feel sure of anything. Sneaking Hermione into his dormitory under the cloak seemed perfectly reasonable. But he had never thought what would happen after she was in their dormitory, and the idea of her sharing his bed made his insides squirm.
Hermione spoke the password, and the Fat Lady swung open. "Make up your minds, will you?" she asked in annoyance.
"I'll-I'll need to say I'm going to bed," Harry said. "I'll meet you up there."
Harry found Ron and explained he had a headache and needed to lie down. Harry pretended it had something to do will all the sweets he had inhaled. Ron appeared to understand, but was too involved in a chess game to say much more.
Harry walked up the stairs to the 5th year boys' dormitory with leaden feet. A buzzing filled his ears, and his heart beat too quickly for bedtime. The door stood open at the top of the stairs. He stepped cautiously inside.
"Hermione?" he called.
"Over here," she answered.
He could see the slight sink of his mattress where she sat waiting for him. He cleared his throat and crossed the room.
"Suppose we should cast Silencing Charms on the curtains," Hermione said. "That way they won't hear my voice."
"Good idea," he agreed in a voice that came out much higher than he'd intended.
"You're okay with this, right?" she asked again.
Harry cleared his throat again. "Sure," he said as nonplussed as he could. "It's not a big deal."
Hermione exhaled a shaky sigh. "Good," she said. "I know it might seem odd, but we're…we're best mates. And given the circumstances, I don't see an alternate choice. We can't risk being separated."
"I agree," Harry said, and he did agree with her; he just felt strangely unsettled with the idea of them sharing a bed for one. There would be no way to have space, no way to not touch bodies.
Hermione slid the cloak from her body and scooted back on Harry's pillow. Harry kicked off his shoes and crawled in beside her. He closed the curtains around his bed. Hermione cast a Silencing Charm and a Locking Charm to prohibit anyone from hearing them or from pulling the curtains aside.
Hermione eased down onto his pillow. She yawned. "I'm exhausted," she said.
Harry said nothing. With his heart pounding in his chest, and his stomach in a Gordian knot, he didn't think he'd be able to fall asleep without someone clubbing him.
"Perhaps if we slept back to back," Hermione said, "you would have enough room."
"Okay," Harry mumbled. He rolled on his side and tried not to tense every muscle in his body as Hermione's backside pressed into his. He felt her nestle in and within minutes, her breathing was slow and steady. She had fallen asleep. Harry lay awake long after Hermione had drifted off to sleep. He heard the remaining 5th year boys enter their dormitory, and as soon as he heard Ron's voice, guilt rose in his chest like heartburn. Then, he felt foolish for his reaction. After all, this was an alternate reality; this was a reality where Hermione made better Quidditch plays than marks and where she was in love with Ron. And Harry…well, he was the jealous non-boyfriend. He tried to shake off the dark thoughts that rose steadily to the surface.
He closed his eyes and forced his mind to relax. Soon the warmth of Hermione's body eased the tension in his body, and he drifted off to sleep thinking of an alternate reality where Hermione in his bed wasn't such a far-fetched idea.
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