THE NEXT DOOR
The Closeness of Friends
Chapter Seven
Hermione wrapped her arms around a warm body. She nestled in close and a muffled moan slipped between her lips. She felt comfortable and content between the sheets, lying in a cozy bed. Her dreams were lucid, and she drifted in and out of consciousness, thinking of nothing particular, only that she was so very comfortable. She slid her hand up the man's chest and sighed. It was a sweet sound, and it nearly stopped Harry's heart.
His eyes were open, wide and full of panic. He had been awake for at least an hour. He hadn't been able to sleep through the 5th year Gryffindor boys tromping out of bed and down the dormitory stairs for a Saturday morning breakfast. Ron had called to him. Harry had lowered the Silencing Charm long enough to tell his best mate he still wasn't feeling great, and he would be down later in the morning. Ron said something about bringing breakfast back up for him, and Harry had looked down at the top of Hermione's head and felt guilt claw its way up from his toes to the crown of his head. Then the dormitory had been silent-except for Hermione's gentle breathing and the almost cute snuffling noises she made when she fell in and out of dreaming.
He should have gotten out of bed minutes ago. After the others had left, he should have gotten up, but, if he was to be completely honest with himself (which was difficult under the circumstances), he hadn't wanted to get up. Not really. The bed was warm. He was comfortable, and then, there was the problem of Hermione. She had completely draped her body across his. Her knee slung over his thighs. Her hand had crept up his chest and felt to be burning a hole straight to his heart. Now she was moaning. Sweet Merlin, the control he had over his more embarrassing anatomy threatened to be ripped away. He tried thinking of Quidditch, of how to properly polish the handle… Nice Potter, he swore to himself. His thoughts struggled to run away with Hermione in tow. He squeezed his eyes closed, and he was almost calm again until her hand slid up his neck and began to rub through the hair at his temple. Harry was paralyzed.
Hermione sighed heavily against his chest. Her body shifted and stretched, and Harry knew she was waking. She yawned but continued to run her hand through his hair. His cheeks felt hot and he knew they must be burning red.
"Mmmm, sleep well?" she murmured and adjusted her leg across his thighs. She scooted even closer into his body though Harry would have sworn that was impossible.
"Err…yeah," Harry answered. He was amazed he could say anything given the tightness of his throat and the control he was losing over the lower half of his body.
Hermione's hand froze in place. Harry could feel her body stiffen. The silence was maddening. "H-Harry?" she asked.
Harry swallowed. "Yeah."
"I-uh-I…" she stammered. She lifted her hand from his hair and pulled it down toward her body without touching him with it. With the stiffness of a man frozen in ice, Hermione lifted her leg from his thighs and tucked it beside her other leg. They lay in an awkward stretching silence for longer than Harry could stand. Then, Hermione jolted upright and covered her face in her hands. She laughed but it sounded tight and embarrassed.
"I…I am so sorry, Harry," she said into her hands.
The heat evaporated from his body almost instantaneously with Hermione moving away. He propped up on his elbows and made sure his obvious arousal wasn't obvious. He tugged at the sheets a bit.
"What for?" he asked.
"For…for…" she dropped her hands, "for lying all over you. I had no idea."
Harry's embarrassment released into a laugh. "No worries, Hermione. You were sleeping. I was sleeping."
She turned her brown eyes to him. "I wasn't trying to-I didn't mean-I didn't know-"
"-Hermione, it's okay. Really."
She released a ragged breath. Then, she smiled, and for the first time he could remember, Harry saw the wonder in her smile. Her eyes relaxed. The tension in her forehead disappeared. He felt his stomach flip flop. He wanted her close to him again, to feel her warmth. Then, he closed his eyes and shoved those thoughts into an already packed area of his mind.
"These alternate realities are interesting at least," she said, half-joking, half trying to ease the tension that surrounded them.
Harry sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah," he agreed. "Interesting."
"Is everyone-"
"-they've all gone down to breakfast," Harry said. "Ron included."
"Should we try to sneak out then?" she asked.
"Probably a good time."
Harry opened the curtains and dropped his feet onto the floor. Hermione eased out of the other side of the bed. He cast a glance at her over his shoulder and saw she was twirling a curl around her finger-a nervous habit.
He leaned his arm on the bed and eased toward her. He touched her shoulder, and she jumped in surprise.
"Hermione," he chuckled low, "it's okay."
"But…I was…"
"All over me?" he asked with a wink. "I know. I get that all the time."
She shoved him away but she was laughing. Her cheeks reddened, and it made her eyes bashful.
"Really," he said. "It's not a big deal. It's just…me," he added, but even as he said it, the intonation he had used made him wish that he could have said the very same phrase and it meant more. That `just Harry' wasn't the same as a dismissive hand wave…his stomach tightened at the thought.
"You okay?" she asked.
Harry looked back up at her and smiled. "Sure. Here's the cloak. You'll need it to get out of here, and then we should be okay."
Hermione took the cloak and slipped it around her shoulders. Harry laughed at her floating head and the absurdity of the sight. He knelt down in front of his trunk and flipped it open.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting a clean shirt."
"Do those clothes even fit you anymore?"
"Dunno," Harry said. He pulled out a Gryffindor t-shirt and stood up with it in his hand.
He dropped the shirt on the bed and tugged at the one he was wearing. Hermione made a tiny `eep' noise and pulled the cloak over her head. Harry heard her steps moving toward the door.
"I'll wait here," she said.
Harry grinned. "I'm only changing my shirt."
"Still," she said from somewhere across the room. "I don't need to take part."
Harry heard the amusement in her voice. He tugged off the shirt he had slept in and draped it across the bed. Across the room, Hermione tried to stare at the door, but she turned back to Harry though she didn't know why. He stood with his back to her. Then, he leaned down and picked up the t-shirt from his trunk. With t-shirt in hand, but still shirtless, he turned toward Hermione. She stiffed in shock before she realized he didn't know where she was looking.
"I think you should wear the cloak until we get to the common room," Harry said. "If it's empty then you can take it off, but if it's not you should wear it until we find a place where it's clear of people. Don't you think?"
Hermione stared at Harry. She didn't know if she'd ever seen Harry without his shirt on…or if she'd ever seen Harry without his shirt on. He was muscled from his undying stubbornness to play Quidditch until his body gave out. When he moved, his muscle definition shone with such clarity that Hermione's stomach felt hot and then the sensation spread lower. She instantly imagined her hands on his chest. She slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. What am I thinking? she scolded herself.
"Hermione?" Harry asked.
She blinked her eyes and saw he had pulled on his Gryffindor t-shirt, and it looked about two sizes too small.
"Yeah?"
"What do you think?"
"I think it's too small," she answered.
"What?" Harry asked, looking confused.
"The shirt," she said. "It's too small."
"I asked you about the plan with the cloak and the common room," Harry said, and then he flexed his muscles in an overly dramatic way, "but you don't like my shirt?"
Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes. "It fit you when you were 15."
"And now my sexy physique is too much for it?"
"Yeah," she said quickly and squeezed her lips together to stop herself from cursing aloud.
"Really?" Harry asked in such a surprised innocent voice, Hermione knew they needed to get out of the dormitory.
"We should go," she said.
Harry nodded and walked to the door. "Where are you?"
She touched his arm, and he opened the door. Voices carried up the stairs from the common room below. "Leave the cloak on until we get out of the portrait hole," he said and they walked down the stairs.
When they reached the common room, Ron was in a tirade, surrounded by Ginny and Fred and George.
"Calm down, Ron," Ginny said, "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation."
"Yeah?" he asked bitterly. "Like what?"
Ginny didn't answer, but she looked up as Harry entered the common room. He could feel Hermione pressing closely into his back.
"Harry," Ginny said in exasperation, "talk to him."
"What's going on?" he asked Ron, but his best mate paced in front of the hearth with an expression of barely suppressed rage on his face.
"Hermione didn't sleep in her dormitory last night," Ginny said quietly, and Ron mumbled something incoherent.
Harry felt his mouth dry. He licked his lips and inhaled deeply. He tried to look unaffected. "Wasn't she ill?" Harry asked. "Didn't she mention the Hospital Wing?"
Ginny glanced quickly at Ron. The twins looked at Harry, and his heart raced.
"We were down there," Fred said.
"Tested out a new sweet," George added.
"We sprouted lamb ears," Fred continued.
"Out of our ankles," George said while he pointed to their bandaged feet and lower legs.
Harry still said nothing. But Ginny looked at him and whispered, "Hermione wasn't in there."
"Maybe she had already left," Harry said.
Ron scoffed by the hearth. "Hard for her to leave when she never arrived."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked. Hermione pressed harder into his back. He felt she was cowering behind him even in her invisibility.
"Ron went to see how she felt," Ginny answered. "Madame Pomfrey said she hadn't seen Hermione."
"Oh," Harry said.
"Yeah, oh," Ron said sarcastically. "Where do you suppose she is then?"
"Did…did anyone check the library?" Harry asked quickly. Panic arose inside Harry as he thought of the myriad of complications this alternate reality could hold.
No one said anything until Fred and George glanced at Ron. "You didn't think of that, did you?" they asked together. Ron stopped pacing and shook his head.
"She's probably there," Harry said. "Probably wanted to research why she was feeling off and she was going to take it to Madame Pomfrey, only she probably fell asleep before she got to the Hospital Wing. You know Hermione, always in the library researching."
Ron looked less angry. Perhaps he thought Harry's explanation held weight. Fred and George shrugged and patted Ron's back before leaving the common room.
"That would make sense, Ron," Ginny said gently.
"I-I could go check," Harry said. "I haven't eaten, so I'll nick some food and then search the library. It's probably nothing, mate." It's not like I slept in the bed with her last night… Harry's mind voiced. He rubbed his neck and waited.
"I'll go, too," Ron said.
"No!" Harry said. "Er…you're not in the best mood. If she is in the library and she fell asleep and you show up angry, you're bound to have a row. And…and I don't think it's the best idea."
"Harry's right, Ron," Ginny agreed. "You should wait. He'll hurry, won't you, Harry?"
"That's right," Harry said. "I'll be back before you know it. I'm sure there's a good explanation."
Ron nodded and mumbled something else, and Harry dashed for the portrait hole. He prayed Hermione was behind him. When the portrait swung open, the hallway was crowded with students milling around and laughing. Dean played Muggle jacks on the floor with Seamus, who kept complaining he was bored with such a dull game.
"To an empty room," Harry mumbled out the corner of his mouth. Hermione pressed an invisible hand into his back to let him know she heard.
They wandered down the hallways until Harry poked his head into an empty classroom. He walked inside and closed the door behind him. Hermione let the cloak fall from her head. She looked pale.
She reached for his hand. "That was almost terrible," she whispered.
Harry was distracted by her hand in his. She had held his hand a million times before now, but her touch had never made him feel warm…or aroused. And then he wondered why.
"What are we going to do?" she asked, looking up at him.
Harry tried to focus his attention on her. "We'll have to sneak down to the library, and you'll have to go along with my story. You wanted to get a book and you feel asleep. He'll believe it because he wants to believe it."
"He looked so…angry."
"It's jealousy, not anger," Harry said plainly.
"He should know me," Hermione said, looking offended. "I'd never run around with two men at once."
"Not you," Harry said, "but maybe this Hermione is different."
"Surely not," she argued.
"You were sleeping in my bed," he said.
Hermione glared at him. "Out of necessity." Harry's smiled faded, and the look of it knocked Hermione off balance for a moment. Did Harry look disappointed? she wondered. "I-well-you know what I'm saying. If I was dating Ron and I was okay with it, I wouldn't have been…"
"I get it, Hermione," Harry said, but he sounded annoyed. And he was-mostly with himself. He couldn't understand why Hermione's comment `out of necessity' had irked him so. "Let's get this over with. Put the cloak back on and we'll go to the library."
Harry's voice was brusque. He reached for the doorknob once Hermione was covered with the cloak again. She grabbed his arm to apologize…or explain to him exactly what she had meant. She felt something in her words had struck a nerve with him, and the need to fix whatever she had done wrong swelled up inside her.
"Harry-" she began, but Harry had already opened the door, and they were already tumbling away from the alternate reality.
The feeling of falling slammed into Hermione with a force unlike she had ever experienced before. She felt as though an invisible hand reached into her chest and pulled her beating heart from her body. Cold sorrow seeped into every nerve. She felt doubled over in a grief-stricken agony so strong, she could not summon the strength to breathe. Hermione fell deep into darkness.
Harry fell forward, fully aware of their drop through space and time. Heat enveloped him. A tight, twisted sort of exhilaration gripped him. Though he fell forward, his body released itself and soared and spread into a hundred alternate directions. Though the darkness closed in around him, he felt trapped inside a feeling of security and love he had never before known.
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