Extraordinary

runningidiot

Rating: PG
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 28/06/2007
Last Updated: 28/06/2007
Status: completed

A blizzard hits Hogwarts during the festive season of Christmas, but doesn't stop Harry and Hermione from enjoying the festive season. Not even work can do that!

Chapters

1. Extraordinary

1. Extraordinary

Author's Note: And Runningidiot makes his dramatic return to the H/Hr fandom with a FANTASTIC submission!

Well, it might be … read it find out! It's all about interpretation ^_^ This is my first submission to the contest, 7 `fore 7 ^_^ and I hope it's adequate to the standards of the contest ^^;;

Well, if it's not, at least let it be a good read! Please enjoy!

Extraordinary

Disclaimer:

No one belongs to me…. Just playing with the creations of the great J.K Rowling!

Rating:

Pg - For the fanastic kiss that isn't meant for kids ;)

Genre:

Romance/drama For those very necessary character developing scenes ^^;;

The large amounts of snow, coupled with the intensity of the billowing, blizzard like, wind did not hint that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was going through Christmas. If anything, it was more like a natural disaster.

Teachers had set up portkey lines to transport the school's many students returning home for the festive holidays due to the drastic situation.

“We haven't had to do that ever,” McGonagall was telling, what most considered to be, the greatest headmaster who had ever run Hogwarts. “Not in the history of Hogwarts.”

“My dear, Minerva,” Albus Dumbledore said, waving his right hand lightly and summon his cup of morning tea. “The situation demanded it, we could have easily sent those children to the St. Mungos, all with the condition of `heavy frostbite,' which, of course, isn't anything drastic…. But I must admit that the trip would be rath….”

“Albus!” McGonagall interrupted angrily, realizing her impoliteness though; she quickly regained her posture. “Forgive me; I must say that I'm quite frustrated with this `situation',”

Dumbledore nodded, peering over at Fawkes idly, watching as his form unearthed itself from the ashes of its previous form. “Has Filch escorted the last of the students to the portkey?”

The Transfiguration professor sighed slightly and nodded, “the rest of the students are staying for the two weeks, headmaster.”

“Mr. Potter is among them I'm guessing?”

McGonagall nodded, “And Mrs. Granger,” she never missed a chance to mention her favourite student.

Dumbledore nodded, muttering to himself for a bit, and then rose from his chair, causing the many ex-headmasters' eyes to follow him. “Shall we proceed to breakfast, then?”

“Umm…. Albus,” she replied uncertainly. “Breakfast was two hours ago.”

Dumbledore looked aghast. “Astounding, I missed breakfast … haven't done that in 25 years…. Extraordinary…. I must say though, that this situation is, indeed, dire…. If I miss breakfast, I know something's wrong….”

McGonagall sighed, wondering where the fame for this man came from.

~*~

Meanwhile, after bidding their Weasley friends farewell, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter grudgingly made their way back to the Gryffindor common room, knowing that piles of homework awaited them.

“Transfiguration essay, Defence against the Dark Arts assignment, Charms test….” Hermione was counting off the articles that needed to be addressed. “And I have that Potions test as well, but you dropped the course, thank Merlin.”

“Alright, Hermione,” Harry moaned, “I don't need to be reminded….”

Sixth year was hard on the two, not only had the courses they had chosen proven to be much more difficult than any previous year, but emotionally as well. Harry and Hermione had both recently lost a family member.

Harry painstakingly remembered watching, without being able to do anything, as his Godfather, Sirius, fell through one of the Department of Mysteries' many veil's that led only to death. He remembered standing there, waiting for Sirius to come back, wearing the cocky eyed expression Harry had gotten so used to and come to love. But he never came, and Harry had become revengeful, more than he had ever felt.

If there was a time when Harry had been angry, it wasn't when he first arrived at Grimmauld Place, and begun yelling at his two best friends for leaving him at Privet Drive for over a month. No, if there was a time when Harry was angry, it was when Sirius died by the over-zealous Death Eater, Bellatrix's, hand.

Harry would've relied on Hermione and Ron to get through that, but he was one short…. Harry was shocked when he learned that Hermione's father had, in the first week of summer, died in a car crash. The next time Harry saw her was at Grimmauld Place, and he was astounded.

She was a zombie, walking around with dead, blank, eyes and mumbling at every remark or question directed at her. She never cried, she later told Harry that she had cried virtually non-stop for a week and finally decided to come here, with her friends. She felt guilty for leaving her mother, but she had gone with her fathers' brother, letting him comfort her.

But upon seeing Hermione like that made Harry feel like he was looking at a mirror, seeing someone going through the same things he was. He had matured greatly from the experience though, seeing as he did not want Hermione to be like that, he decided to push away the past and encouraged Hermione to do so as well.

He made a silent pact then, to ensure that neither he, nor Hermione, would have to go through that ever again. Together, he realized, they worked extremely well, not just against Death Eaters, but around Grimmauld Place as well. They were silent, but flowing, he realized.

Mrs. Weasley had assigned tasks for the Hogwarts students during the summer stay at Sirius's old manor, of course, being in the place was rather depressing for Harry, but he shrugged it off, taking his mind off of the memories through the chores.

Hermione and Harry were assigned to the basement, the one place where only Mad-eye had ever dared set foot. He had reported that bats had taken up residence as well as a ghoul.

“Clear them out,” Mrs. Weasley told them strictly. “I don't care how you do it, just do it. I hate bats.” She added scathingly.

But the way they did it, was rather brilliant. They didn't plan anything as they carefully edged down the creaking stairs that Harry had never noticed in his one previous stay at this place. Upon arriving, they combined their magic beautifully, silently, Hermione would light up the bats nesting grounds with a lumos spell, and Harry would zap them away with a hearty whispered stupefy. It worked magnificently, until one of them tripped on something and made every bat in the basement fly up the stairs and out the window.

Hermione and Harry had gulped simultaneously, knowing the shriek from Mrs. Weasley was fast approaching, and it came like lightning. Covering their ears at the fury of noises, they couldn't help bursting out in laughter.

If anything, this situation had solidified their friendship, it was now a bond that would not break, and they each constantly reminded one another of this.

“No Quidditch this week,” Hermione said sombrely, bringing Harry back from his reminiscences of the summer.

Harry shrugged mildly, turning the corner to reach the next flight of stairs, Hermione followed suit. “Ginny's beginning to really irritate me.”

In earlier years, Harry would have been quite pleased if any girl made any advances onto him, but with the immense amount of emotional bricks the Boy-who-lived was carrying; now was not the time for flirting in his opinion.

Especially with the red haired dame named Ginny Weasley.

“She's not leaving you alone, eh?” Hermione remarked rhetorically with a sidelong grin.

Harry rolled his eyes as he semi-yelled the password, Which Witch, to the Fat-Lady portrait. “You're beginning to act like Ron, and I have enough of him every day.”

Hermione chuckled as they took their favourite seats by the ever-lasting fire.

They silently took out their Transfiguration notes and blank parchment scrolls, silently agreeing to get the essay out of the way first.

After a mere moment's of diligent working, Harry groaned and threw his quill to the table. “I can't do this, Hermione!” He pronounced clearly and meaning every word.

“Harry,” she said, calmly placing her quill onto the table, as if teaching him how to do it properly. “If you don't do it now, when are you going to do it?”

“Tomorrow of cour-”

“AHA!” She interrupted. “I'm willing to bet two silver sickles and a dungbomb that you will say the same thing tomorrow. That, my friend, is procrastinating.”

Harry crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, staring at Hermione with a slight grin. “Two silver sickles and a dungbomb? I didn't know you collected dungbombs….”

“I don't,” she said, taking her quill back and beginning to write again, thinking that the matter was done, and she had come out the victor.

Harry had other plans though.

“So you can't bet that, can you?” as calmly as possible, Hermione placed her quill back on the table and looked up at Harry.

“I don't have two sickles either,” she said mildly. “I spent all my money at the last Hogsmeade trip; remember that necklace I got you? Yeah, you're wearing it now - cost me a fortune. I planned on restocking during the holidays but….”

She trailed off, and Harry fished for a way of getting the conversation going, he knew she was not thinking of the two sickles anymore, but rather, her late father, who, if she went home, she would not see.

“My point's proven then,” Harry declared. “You owe me two sickles and a dungbomb.”

“Do I now, Mr. Harry Potter?” Harry shuddered slightly at the morph in his full name, being called Harry Potter in a snake like voice by Lord Voldemort was one thing, being called Mr. Harry Potter from Hermione Granger was beyond that. “You know that it was merely a figure of speech….”

“What?” Harry said, taken aback by the `Mr. Harry Potter,' “The two sickles and a dungbomb?”

She nodded, “I heard someone else, think she's in fourth year now, say it and I've waited to say it myself…. Comes off the tongue in a neat way…. Two sickles and a dungbomb,” she added, as if testing the feeling. She smiled at Harry and continued with her work.

Harry quietly said it to himself a couple of times too. Until Hermione pointed it out, he did not realize how neat it was, saying that. She put it nicely by saying that it comes off the tongue in a neat way; it was very true; an indescribable feeling of agreement.

“It sounds like something Dumbledore would say,” He stated randomly.

“Hmm?” The brown haired girl said, distracted. “Oh, yes … it does actually…. AH!” She screamed suddenly, dropping her quill onto the floor.

“What?” Harry said, rising from his chair, thinking it was a most dire situation.

“Look at my essay … the very end,” she added, handing the piece of parchment to him. And standing there was Harry, thinking that he would be fighting some demonic Death Eater right there and then by the sound of her scream. Thank Merlin that the common room was void of any other Gryffindors.

He took the parchment, lightly returning to his sitting position, and looked down past the large amounts of text that was the bulk of Hermione's essay.

As was said in the first paragraph, apparition is used quite often by wizard and witch alike, all of which owe me two sickles and a dun…

Harry stopped reading due to his burst of laughter, unheard by him since the days of fourth year of earlier.

“It's not funny, Harry!” Hermione said, taking the essay back while fuming furiously. “I have to cross that all out and rewrite the entire paragraph; I even lost my argument due to that - that stupid debate we were having!”

Harry smiled as she stubbornly tried to return to her work, angrily crossing out the last paragraph that contained the fabled words. He knew that she was trying quite hard to work; he knew she wanted to be free from the shackles of homework and obligations.

And he had a way of doing just that.

“Hermione,” he said, rising up from his chair once more. Distracted, Hermione glanced at him.

“Huh?” She said stupidly, so unlike Hermione. “What?” That was more like her, rather pushy and irritable.

“Come with me,”

She stared at him blankly. “No,” she announced.

“Hermione,” He expected her to refuse outright. “You're not going to get any work done with me around, and do you want me to go away?”

“Yes,” she answered immediately.

We've played this game before, Harry thought to himself with a mind's smile. “Say it like you mean it, Hermione.”

“Y - yes…” There was a definite falter in her voice.

“My point's proven once more, now come with me.” He reached his hand out, effectively offering a, in his opinion, better alternative to working.

“Where're we going?” She looked concerned, and it was, in fact, genuine. Harry and Ron have goaded her into too many illegal trips around the school after curfew too count.

“You'll see,” that was definitely not an incentive for her.

“Is it anywhere dangerous?” That was also a good, and necessary, question for Harry.

“Depending on your definition of dangerous….”

“HARRY!”

“Alright, fine! It's not … unless you're a frigging git like Malfoy and decide to jump out a window….” Hermione rolled her eyes, but took Harry's, still, outstretched hand, feeling rather giddy already.

“Alright, Harry … My fate is in your hands…” She said with a smile, squeezing his hand lightly, but letting go of their clasped grip because of the hole that led into the common room.

“Isn't it always?” Harry asked with a sidelong smile, gesturing that she should go through the hole first, clearly saying non-verbally “Ladies first,” Hermione nodded her consent and crawled through.

~*~

“Of all the places in the school, Harry….” Hermione yelled feverishly over the howls of the wind outside. “WHY HERE?!”

“You'll see, Hermione!” Harry yelled back at her as he continued to climb the stairs towards the astronomy tower, gripping her hand tightly, making sure she would not ditch him now, but he knew she would not, even if he let go.

So the question was: why was he still holding onto her hand?

He shoved that rhetorical question to the back of his mind and focused on climbing the stairs.

When they finally reached the top, the wind's volume had reached its zenith, but it was soon silenced as Harry pulled his wand out and waved it lightly, effectively making use of his recently developed skills with non-verbal magic.

The silence that issued from the spell was rather extraordinary. And Hermione's expression proved it, mouth gaped open at Harry. “Wow, Harry … that … that was….”

Harry smiled and sat down on top of the window sill, patting the spot opposite of him, knowing that the both of them could fit on it with a comfortable amount of space.

She lightly jumped on top, using their, still entwined, hands as a way of boosting herself on top, and still managed to hang on. Only when she sat down, did she let go, and they both felt the effects immediately.

“This is … beautiful,” Hermione said blissfully, mirroring Harry's thoughts every time he came up here.

“I got the idea after that Defence against the Dark Arts lesson about the concentration charm.” He noticed the proud looking expression she gave him, and suddenly felt quite fulfilled. “I've been coming up here every day during the blizzard out there. Helps me get away from Ginny, you know?”

Hermione chuckled and nodded knowingly, she had actually grown on her looks in Harry's opinion, and apparently a lot of other people in the school shared it, including Ron.

Indeed, for a good month or two, Hermione and Ron were together, and to Harry's eyes, it seemed rather … clumsy, like every first relationship is.

The relationship between the two of them was not like Harry's relationship with Hermione at all, they did not know whether they should hold hands … or when to hug … or any of that stuff, and when they did, actually, go through with it, it was always awkward, more so for them then any passer-bys.

“Have you talked to Ginny about it?” The most brilliant student in their year asked.

“Of course I have!” He shouted, crossing his arms and looking sternly out the window at the billowing blizzard. “Well, I've tried … but every time I get her alone, she tries to jump on me and snog me to death.”

Hermione laughed genuinely there, “You're her role model, Harry… You've got to understa-”

“Why doesn't she start then?!” Harry was suddenly angry, frowning at Hermione as he continued to shout. “Can't she see I'm not in the mood for that kind of thing now?!”

“Harry….” She said softly, not needing to say anything else to calm him down. They had been through this talk already, the emotional strain talk; they had begun calling it.

“I know, Hermione…” he added, “I'm sorry for yelling; I - I don't know what came over me….”

“It's quite alright, Harry.” She said with a slight smile. “You've got enough on your plate to yell a thousand times alone without needing an apology to justify your rant.”

Harry nodded his thanks, looking back out the window to distract him from the silence that had ensued in his rant's wake.

“What's wrong with Ginny anyway?” Hermione asked abruptly, the Boy-who-lived spun his head to face her, finding her eyes directed at the blizzard outside.

He was taken a back by the question, much like when someone asks anyone: “Why do you hate him?” Or “Why do you love her?” Everybody immediately answers with, “I - I don't know…” And Harry just followed suit. “She's just … not my type I guess.”

“So what exactly is your type?” Her chocolate brown eyes were directed at him now, glinting because of the bright light seeping through the window they were leaning against. Harry could have sworn that she moved a bit toward him, but blamed it on the fact that his heart was acting as though it were participating in a high-speed chase.

“Err .. I don't know….” Harry was disoriented, to say the least. That was the second time in a row that he said it.

“Is it someone who's pretty?”

“Well, it helps I guess…” he added, “but there are different forms of beauty.”

“Oh, you're a smart man, Harry.” She chuckled, leaning against the wall behind her with a satisfied look on her face. “I wish more people were like you.”

“No you don't, Hermione.” He gave her a sidelong smile. “More people begging you for your homework?”

She giggled softly, “Yeah, one Harry Potter is enough.”

“Tell me about it,” Harry said in return, feeling the silence coming onto them. They both turned back to the blizzard, watching it silently. Harry noticed he could not see much besides the snow billowing around the school, he wondered for a minute why, exactly, he was so interested in coming up here every day and spend around two hours merely staring at the windy snow.

“Is it someone who's smart?” Hermione interjected, disrupting Harry's thoughts. He turned back to her, finding her eyes right on his, making him nervous and flustered once again.

“Well … I'd prefer someone who's smart instead of someone's who's dumb, you know?” The brown eyed girl laughed.

“What about character?”

“What about it?”

“Well, what's she like?”

“Couldn't have given me a vaguer question, Hermione….”

“Alright, let's narrow it down.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “Beliefs and ideology?” She suggested.

“Ideology?”

“Political view … right wing … left wing….”

“Gone through one ear and out the other, Hermione….”

She sighed, “Alright, just beliefs then?”

“Well, they don't have to be identical to mine, you know…. But I'd like to know them, and I'd like that she accepts mine as well.”

“Wow, Harry….”

“Wow?” Harry was surprised by the response.

She shifted forward, Harry was definitely sure of it this time; his heart was still racing as she continued to question his ideal girl, but now in whispers. “What about character? Like … does she have to be a specific type of person? Amazonian, charismatic, feisty, sexy, etcetera?”

“Charis … matic?”

“Just answer the question, Harry.”

He laughed, “Someone who's sure of herself … I don't know if there's a word for that….”

“Assertive.”

“Alright, there we go! I'd like someone who's assertive, well … that sounded weirder coming from my mouth….” The girl giggled and crept forward once again, Harry even dared edging forward too. He felt so light-headed, his head had joined the race and was attempting to pound just as much as his heart was racing. Their heads were practically banging into one another, they were so close. “But yeah … I'd like someone who will stand by their beliefs and not let anyone try to change them…. And I'd like her to be loyal; she should be by my side throughout my life, even if we're bickering about something dumb….”

Hermione took Harry by surprise, by cupping his cheek and, while cutting off Harry's breath entirely, closed the gap between them, leaning in with her lips open slightly.

Harry felt her lips brush his, and could not help but feel foolish, sitting there, while she was doing this to him. His heart and head had stopped doing anything, all he could feel was the warm touch of her lips on his…. He remembered Cho's kiss from last year, and felt that it paled in comparison with what Hermione was making him feel at this time.

He subconsciously rose one of his hands, he was too busy with Hermione's tongue to concentrate on trivial things like that, and ran it through Hermione's hair, finding it rather silky, instead of dishevelled, like he was expecting.

Not only did the kiss feel extremely good, but it felt so right for Harry, the two of them melted together, fussed, into this giant mass of pleasure. He felt her soft tongue glide over his and into his actual mouth, and wondered how by Merlin she learned how to do this.

Girls just know, he thought to himself, but then told his mind to shut up, and concentrate on this blissful moment, for it was about to end; he felt it.

Hermione drew away from him, blushing red slightly from the interaction. She tucked a loose bit of hair behind her left ear and looked away from Harry.

The Boy-who-lived cupped her right cheek, in the same manner that Hermione had done to him earlier. Her eyes were drawn back to his, and his heart resumed the race, done with its break.

“You're the girl, Hermione,” was all he said before he sealed his lips over hers again.

~*~

“Well, Minerva,” Dumbledore said as he drew the curtains for his office's large double windows. “I have to say that nothing bad happened today.”

“Is that so, Headmaster?” McGongall said as she took the seat across from his desk. “Well, that's good news. Anyway, Headmaster, getting to the issue of bringing back the students; if the storm persists throughout the holidays and afterwa-”

“Would you like some tea, Minerva?” He asked randomly.

“Oh, err … no thanks, sir.” She cleared her throat and continued. “If the storm persists throughout the holidays and afterwards, we're going to have to set up the portkeys once more, I've already contacted the Ministry of Magic, and-”

“Could we do this another time, Minerva?” Dumbledore interrupted again, “I must say, some thoughts are … distracting me. I'm sorry to put this important issue off, Minerva, but for convenience's sake….”

“Oh, umm … yes, yes of course, Headmaster. I'll leave you to your thoughts.” She rose from her seat. “Good night, Albus.”

“Good night, Minerva,” he watched her leave before recalling the event that took place at the top of the astronomy tower, a place that Dumbledore had seen many blissful teenage couples pass through, meeting for a night of heavenly and almost fictitious love, but he had seen nothing like what he saw today.

“Amazing that I could see that through the blizzard,” he said to baby Fawkes and the portraits around him. “Magic's truly an extraordinary thing. Absolutely extraordinary.” He added, peering through the curtains again to see Harry and Hermione, gripped in a powerful embrace.

With a snap of his fingers, he smiled to himself, beginning to hear the wind die down. He saw the surprised expressions of the two sixth year Gryffindors as they watched the blizzard subside.

“Extraordinary….” Albus Dumbledore said to no one, but Harry and Hermione. “Congratulations, you'll go a far way….”

Author's Note: Yes, the “two sickles and a dungbomb” is a direct reference to The Harry Potter Puppets flash video (I believe that's what it was called…) I was so tempted to bring in Ron and have him continually shove people while saying, in an extraordinarily high-pitched voice, “BOTHER!” ^_^

Don't forget to review before you leave! I haven't received a review in over a year! Well, I haven't submitted anything in over a year … BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT! ^_^ REVIEW!

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