------------------------------------------------------------
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. does, and she has every right to do whatever she thinks is best for Harry Potter. I just love writing. So sue me. Wait, seriously… don't.
------------------------------------------------------------
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bolting upright in alarm, Hermione pushed away the strands of hair that had fallen on her face as she got out of bed, silently wondering whether she had overslept and it was only the curtains responsible for the darkness around her.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
She gave a start at the recurrence of that bloody knock, if one would call it a knock when it lacked the very essence of a true one which was done to intrude politely, not demand, which it was certainly doing now!
She mentally cursed whoever was at the door as she grabbed her robe lying lifelessly on her bedside chair and grumpily put it on.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Lady Hermione, I swear if you don't open this door, I'll barge in there in whatever state of dress or undress I shall find you in!"
She should have expected him out of all people to unceremoniously wake someone up in the middle of the night. As if having caused her to cry her eyes out was nothing, here he was again, destroying what was left of her peace.
Rolling her eyes at the tone of his voice, Hermione trudged towards the door. She opened it and regarded him with an icy stare.
"What do you want, Your Grace?"
"You have some explaining to do, countess."
If she had been surprised that he knew about her lineage, she didn't appear as if she were. All that she gave him was a mild look of confusion. It was either she didn't mind that he knew, or she expected that he already knew the entire time they had been together.
"Can't it wait?" She murmured heatedly, albeit sleepily.
He sneered at her question as he shoved the door fully open, and strode inside without invitation.
Hermione stared at him and then shook her head, bolting the door back in its place. "Why, you can come inside, Your Grace. Thank you for asking so kindly."
Harry had the gall frown at her. "Do you just let any man in your room like this?"
Hermione shot him a blazing look and said with ire. "If you must know, not that it's any of your business; I do have problems with gentlemen entering my chambers. But since you obviously had every intention of waking everybody up with your knocking, I simply made an exception. Although I must say I am already regretting that decision."
He visibly relaxed, his mood turning over. "I think we've gone past casual acquaintances for you to worry about me, luv." Harry said, his gaze traveling from her sleep-rumpled hair to her lips, down to a prim, lavender silk robe, that hugged each luscious curve she possessed.
Hermione swallowed as she watched his gaze move over her body as if trying to liquefy every inch of her. Clutching the robe she had on fiercely against her chest, she cleared her throat.
"I don't think a silly little dance makes a difference. And I am not your luv." She huffed indignantly, although her voice broke at the thought.
"And just what makes a difference, sweet?" He asked, forgetting his initial concern. It didn't matter that she knew about his life, what suddenly mattered was that he was here and so was she.
"I---I don't want to find out." She tossed her head indignantly. She must have seen the look of hunger in his eyes because she had stepped away from him, as if afraid he would suddenly leap at her.
Harry merely chuckled at the brave expression she had put on. She knew what he was doing and had liked it, but just like a school girl fresh out of the sister school, she had withdrawn from her own thoughts and had become the defensive woman he met months ago.
Not that it lessened his desire for her.
Harry nearly lost the battle of controlling himself from shaking his head. But even if he had done so, it wouldn't have mattered. No amount of denial on his part could take away the thought that he did want her, more so now than earlier or three months ago. The image of her looking so delectable hardly gave him the concentration to go on. It was surprising that he was still capable of breathing…
Or standing….
"Don't you?" Harry whispered huskily, moving closer.
"Don't I what?" Hermione stepped back, trying to get away from him as far as possible but she encountered the post on her bed. Immobilized, she could only stare at him as he closed the remaining distance between them.
He bent his head to the curve of her cheek, his breath grazing her ear. "To find out."
"No…get out…" She said, pushing him away, her hands on his chest.
He did not bother replying to her command. He had to taste her, even for just one reckless moment, he had to know how she would feel in his arms.
Capturing her chin in his fingers, he slanted his mouth over hers and took possession of her tempting lips slightly parted in surprise, catching a glimpse of her eyes widening in surprise before his own closed in pleasure at the first touch of his lips on hers.
He felt a quick flare of fire in his blood as she drew in his breath and began to push him away. But when he increased the pressure of his lips, urging hers to part, he felt her struggles begin to ease and her hands no longer pushing, but pulling him closer. She gave a faintest of all sighs as his tongue delved into hers, and he shifted to mold her into the contours of his body already beginning to ache with need.
A need to hold her even closer…tighter…longer…
How long had it been since he had experienced such strong temptation? He asked himself as he felt her clutch his arm.
Was this how it feels to be desired? She thought as his persuasive efforts destroyed the wall that she had built around herself. But even as she decided to give in to the increasing pressure on her mouth and roaming touch he had on her back, her sanity returned, an image of him years earlier crossing her mind.
"That," she murmured as she managed to pull apart from his embrace, "is enough, Your Grace."
"Not for either of us." Harry lifted his hand to capture hers, his other hand snaking its way around her waist.
"It…"
"Wasn't." Harry muttered as he kissed her parted lips. This time, he didn't wait for an invitation. He simply allowed himself to get lost in the moment; his body speaking for itself, his lips claiming what they believe was theirs. His hands had a mind of their own as it shifted from her face down to her back and to her waist, pulling her closer to his body, as if fusing them to become one.
She buckled unexpectedly as the same heat of passion swept over her, and he caught her with a husky chuckle. "I told you." He whispered on her lips.
"Yes, you did." Hermione him managed to say in a breathless whisper. Then with his words echoing in her ear, reality came and she pried his hold on her. Clearing her throat, she said in a stern voice. "I think this time, it's enough."
Her sudden dismissive tone brought Harry back to reality and he shoved his hands in his pockets. "You're right."
Hermione's heavy-lidded gaze met his and she had a very disturbing urge to fix her hair. She forced herself to stand her ground.
"We don't know each other, Your Grace. And as much as it had been a…fascinating experience…I simply cannot involve myself with you." She said, turning business-like.
That reminder caused Harry to feel an odd irritation for her, which didn't bode well on both their parts since she really didn't have anything to do with it, and because he was only now enjoying his attraction for her. The last thing he wanted was for it to be destroyed by her apparent aversion to him.
"When were you going to tell me you know who I was?" Harry asked.
Hermione simply blinked up at him. "It would have been a futile move, because as far as I am concerned, we met each other at the same time."
It didn't take long before Harry figured that she was referring to the night they met three months ago. Wiping his hand across his face, he impatiently said in a lethal voice.
"Your persistence at this game is getting quite annoying, my lady."
"Game? What game? I am most certainly not participating in any game. And if I were, I wouldn't be playing with you!"
"Quite brilliant, are you? But you can never deny it, not anymore." Harry said venomously, the passionate man who had kissed her mere minutes before, gone. "We've only met, yet you have this loathing for me that I do not even understand the reason for until a while ago. I want an explanation, and you might as well give it to me now, because if you don't I will not leave you alone."
"An explanation for what?" Hermione asked, although her thoughts had zeroed in on one thing.
"Do you or do you not know that I was hired to rescue your father?" He asked bluntly.
His expression stunned her, if not his question. And Hermione found herself biting her lip in uncertainty.
"I---I…"
"Well?"
"I…"
Harry suddenly gripped her arm and said. "Answer me, goddammit!"
Hermione's eyes widened in alarm, the pain on her arm robbing her of speech and thought. "Let go of me!" She gasped out loud.
He seemed to have realized what he was doing and immediately released her. Although his eyes were not apologetic, he said. "I'm sorry."
She looked at him spitefully all the while massaging her arm, and then she gave him a look that made his insides turn. "Yes. I know, all right?"
"How?!"
"Does it matter?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, it does!"
"Why?"
"It just does. Tell me or else I'll…"
"Hurt me? Is that it? You'll hurt me again if I don't tell you?" Hermione cried out, breathing heavily. She refused to show him how afraid she was at the moment. If he even had the notion that she was, she didn't want to know what he would do. "God, you're even more of a sinner than I thought."
Harry knew he shouldn't be hurt by her words, but somehow, they stung. During his years as a dueler, he'd been called a lot worse, but he never let them get to him. They didn't give him money to survive, so why the hell should he care?
But somehow, coming from her, it just felt different…
And degrading…
"You don't know me all too well, my lady, so don't judge me."
"Why not?" Hermione scoffed, unable to stop herself from insulting him despite the inner voice inside her head telling her to stop. "You killed people for money. You're lower than dirt!"
"I would advise you to stop, madam."
"You had the chance to redeem yourself by helping the magistrates, yet you never did. Why did you not agree? Was it because of money? You didn't think we were asking for free, did you? Would you have agreed had you known that it was the Earl of Ravenclaw you were to rescue?"
"No, it wasn't that." Harry said; his voice straining. Somehow, he knew he owed her an explanation. "I had nothing against your father; it was because of the magistrates!"
"Really? And what was it that you said? Let him rot in hell and they are welcomed to join him?" Hermione stated, repeating the thoughtless remark he had given Ethan to tell the magistrates.
Harry was unnerved by how accurate she had said the words, as if she had been there when he said it. How did she find out? He would have asked her to repeat the words had it not been for a sound just beyond the wall of her room. Someone was about so he thought better than to make the conversation longer.
"Who told you that?"
"I…"
"The magistrates?"
"No…"
"Then who?"
"Stop acting like it matters. That happened a long time ago."
"You never saw my face; you would have never recognized me even if you let me stand beside myself 7 years ago!" Harry mused aloud, raking his hand through his hair. "How is it that you know who I was?"
Hermione's gaze shifted toward the scar that he had unintentionally revealed when he grazed his hair, but kept her mouth shut. But Harry wasn't the clever man that he was for nothing. He didn't miss the look and immediately understood the underlying meaning.
"My scar?"
She bit her lip and looked the other way.
"I never let anyone see my scar when I was…"
"A killer?" She supplied scornfully.
"No, a dueler." Harry corrected impatiently, something bothering him still. It wasn't Hermione. It was different, almost as if someone was watching. But Harry decided it was just his nerves, and not to mention his growing irritation for her. "I'm going to ask you again. How?"
"If it will make you leave me alone…" Hermione sighed. And then sat on the bed, unaware that the simple move had caught the interest of Harry once again, even in his bad and cautious mood. "I went with the magistrates when they decided to hire you in person. I was disguised as a lad, of course. But we only met your messenger. The magistrates decided his presence had been enough, but I wanted to meet you. So when your messenger left, I followed him."
"And you heard ever single word I said." He concluded.
"Yes." Hermione nodded and glared at him. "I hated you right there and then!"
"But that was two years before I became the Duke. Even Sirius didn't recognize the man I had been when he saw me all polished and dress up."
"I would never forget your scar. It wasn't something that could easily escape me." Hermione said.
Harry's eyes narrowed. A thought occurring to him. "You were gone for 5 years. You wouldn't have been there when they introduced me to society. Yet, a month after you returned, you suddenly know who I am and what I had been?"
"Gossips travel fast around here, as you are already aware of." Hermione said, crossing her arms, as if thinking that when she did, the chills running up and down them would go away. "I saw your picture in the paper and there was no denying you were the man who had denied the life of my father."
Harry chose to ignore her statement and continued. "A scar? That was quite astute of you, but I refuse to believe that it was the only detail you recognized me for."
For some reason, Hermione refused to look at him. She caught a shadow just beyond the door of her balcony, and lifted her gaze in alarm only to realize it had only been a tree branch. Shaking her head, she murmured softly. "Your eyes."
He blinked and fought the urge to rush over her vanity and inspect what she had seen that was unusual to make her remember. "Green eyes? They could have belonged to another person!"
"No, not their color." Hermione shook her head, looking at him fearfully. "I would never forget the way your eyes had looked in your picture. They had been the same ones I saw when you rejected the magistrates."
"What did…?" Harry began to ask, confusion clearly in those eyes of his.
"Cold." Hermione interrupted him, shivering inside exactly as she had when she saw him up close seven years earlier. Swallowing in uncertainty, she exhaled. "They were as cold as ice."
--------------------------------------------------------
A/N:
Yes, yes, I know it was such a short chapter. But I had accomplished my goal, which was to reveal how Hermione knew who Harry was. I don't know if I missed to place some details. I'll check on it later. But for now, I hope this one sufficed. Another update wouldn't be for another few weeks or so.
I just realized something. When DH had been released, a lot of people thought it would put a stop to the Harmony shippers. But the release of the book only did one thing to us. It made us even eager to prove how wrong they are and how right we are. It gave us the motivation to be even more adamant on spreading the reality that no two people could be more compatible than Harry and Hermione.
So to all those who agreed and reviewed, thanks. I owe you a lot for your vote of confidence. I hope that you stick with me throughout this fic.
Till later…much love! =)
-->