Story Title: Imaginary Friend
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Word count for this installment: 2,107
Running Total no. of words for entire story: 5,113
Summary: Harry thinks he's loosing his mind. He has an imaginary friend but is she as imaginary as he thinks? Response to a challenge by reptilia28 on the forum side. VERY AU!
A/N: This is my first challenge response in a very long time so please be gentle.
*~*~*
A crash in his flat snapped Harry out of the light doze that the television had lulled him into and put him on his version of 'high alert'. He was awake, that was a start.
"Hermione?" He called in the general direction of the crash.
A quiet sigh and a tiny "Yeah." told him all he needed to know. Standing and making his way to his bedroom he saw her sprawled over the floor, her feet tangled in the comforter that had fallen from his bed about a week ago.
"Do you never clean?" she asked with a huff as she extracted herself from the blanket that she looked at as though it had personally insulted her.
"No need- I only sleep in here, most of the time my eyes are closed so I don't see the mess." he replied calmly.
"Well that's just disgusting and lazy." she replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I'm not the one that keeps appearing in someone else's flat."
"For the last time this is my flat!"
"For the last time no it isn't."
"Yes it is!"
"Is not."
"Is too."
"Is not."
"Too."
"Not."
"How old are you?" Hermione asked finally breaking the cycle that had the potential to go on for a very long time. Harry was rather stubborn. Despite himself he smiled and sat on his bed patting the space next to him in invitation. Hermione sighed and sat next to him staring at the opposite wall.
Looking to his right to where Hermione was seated he couldn't help but look at her out of the corner of his eye. Time to test the Hermione-is-a-ghost theory he thought. He looked at her fully now and noted how solid she looked. He was positive he couldn't see through her though that didn't stop him staring right at the side of her head and straining his eyes to see if he could see the cabinet that he knew was there. Nope, he couldn't see through her. Strike one against the ghost theory. He didn't notice her moving to look at him questionably as he raked his eyes down from her head and over her body. He was just being thorough and was most certainly not checking her out he thought resolutely. That would just be weird.
Alright so he couldn't see through her, that didn't mean he wouldn't be able to walk through her though- if she was a ghost. He was sure you should be able to walk through ghosts… rather than going through the trouble of asking her to stand up he thought prodding her shoulder would work just as well. If he was able to walk through her surely he'd be able to put his hand through her. He began to poke her.
He poked her shoulder causing her to move back with him, he was sure he didn't go through her. He poked her again a little harder just to be sure. She apparently decided that she didn't like him poking her and she shoved him back with quite a bit of force. Strike two against the ghost theory. Ghosts can't shove.
He poked her again even harder and she shoved him back harder than before. He poked her again harder and contrary to what he believed was coming, that would be a sturdy shove, he felt a sharp slap across the side of his face.
"What was that for?!" he asked rubbing his cheek. Strike three; ghosts certainly shouldn't be able to slap that well!
"For poking me!" she replied indignantly.
"I was seeing if you were solid!"
"What the heck are you talking about? Of course I am you dolt! How can I not be?"
"Well I thought you might… you know… be a ghost." he said, saying it out loud made it sound even more stupid than it did in his head.
"You're an idiot."
*~*~*
After several hours of trying to trick Hermione into leaving which included such moments as "Hey Hermione, did you hear the door?" and his not so tactful idea of trying to seduce her in an attempt to disgust her into leaving. Unfortunately for him not only did it fail to do anything it also served quite the blow to his ego. Hermione was not fazed at all; she didn't even have the good grace to pretend that she was considering him! He was sure there was some rule in the unwritten book of 'Do's and don'ts of being seduced' that the seducee should not shoot the seducer down in very painful flames no matter the reason for the seducing.
"I'm going to sleep." Hermione announced finally at around 2am.
"Oh good. Good ni- what are you doing!?" Harry exclaimed as he watched Hermione crawl up his bed and settle herself on the pillows.
"Going to sleep." she said as she closed her eyes.
"Well go sleep somewhere else!"
"Why should I? This is my bed! You sleep somewhere else!" She argued in that stubborn way that made sure Harry knew he wasn't winning this argument.
"Oh for the love of God are we still going on about that? This is my bed!"
"No it isn't now you can sleep on my couch and I think I'm being rather reasonable."
"I think you're being anything but reasonable! You come into my flat, pretend it's yours and now you take over my bed!?"
"Fine! We'll both sleep here then." she said shifting over to one side of the bed.
"What?"
"We'll both sleep here." she repeated slowly as if explaining quantum physics to a small child.
"What?" he squeaked again.
"Oh don't be such a baby! Either we both sleep here or you get the cold uncomfortable ouch, your choice. Oh and by the way if you do take the couch that'll mean that you accept that this is my home and you have to leave first thing in the morning."
"Fine! I'll sleep right here, in my bed." he strode purposefully to the side of the bed that Hermione wasn't currently sprawled on and flopped down.
"Be careful! It's not a bouncy castle you know!" Hermione scolded, her eyes closed.
"It's my bed, I can do whatever I like." he replied sounding very much like a moody teenager who had just been told he couldn't get a nose ring.
"It's my bed and no you can't. Now shut up so I can get some sleep."
It pained Harry to do as he was told but as he couldn't think of a decent retort he sighed and resigned himself to sharing a bed with Hermione and closed his eyes. He hoped that when he opened them again this would all be a terribly realistic and extremely strange dream.
Somehow he knew that wouldn't be the case.
*~*~*
Harry woke early, or late he wasn't too sure, the next morning and delayed opening his eyes for as long as he could. Willing himself to be a man he dragged one eye open and looked to the side of the bed that Hermione had occupied last night. It was gloriously empty.
"Oh thank God for that!" he exclaimed sitting up in victory. His joy was short-lived for as soon as he sat he saw the star of his "dream" sitting in a chair that he had forgotten was even in the room. A pile of laundry cluttered the floor next to the chair so he reasoned that it was likely hidden under the mass of clothes.
Apparently his exclamation of joy had been the wrong thing to say with Hermione in the room, evidenced by the death glare that he was currently on the receiving end of. Heaven help the poor soul that had to put up with her for the rest of their life!
"Not a dream then." he muttered raking a hand though his already messy hair.
"No, not a dream. You do realise it's almost midday right?" Late then he thought "Do you normally sleep this late? Do you know how bad that is for you? Don't you have anywhere to be? Don't you have a girlfriend to get to?"
"Don't you know you shouldn't give a lecture as soon as I wake up?" Harry retorted grumpily slumping back down onto the bed.
"Not a morning person I see."
"No."
"Your girlfriend must love that." she said sarcastically.
"Don't have one." he mumbled almost silently into the duvet that he had pulled over his head.
"What a shock." She had superhuman hearing.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he said picking up on the subtle hints that she was throwing at him.
"I'm not surprised you haven't got a girlfriend, no one would want to come back to this dump."
"Last night this was your flat."
"It still is, it's just messy because someone is a pig."
"Well how did that someone have the time to make it a dump if someone else lived here?"
Hermione opened her mouth to throw out another witty remark he was sure when she stopped and looked a little confused. Hah! That had her!
"I don't know." she said finally, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Harry frowned and disengaged himself from the mess of covers on the bed to make his way to the chair where Hermione was sitting quietly. He was almost sure she was crying, the slight tremble in her shoulders told him as much.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked with concern shocking himself.
"I've been thinking." she said shakily "I don't know how I keep getting here. Last night you threw me out over and over again but somehow I just reappeared right in front of you. I mean I got into the shower with you! How on earth did that happen?! And now I think about it, this… this mess isn't one that can just appear in a matter of hours. This mess has been around for months yet if I live here like I know I do how did it happen?"
"I don't know." he replied honestly. He had no idea why he hated seeing her cry but he wanted it to stop. It was just a matter of finding that off switch…
"Neither do I and it's scaring me. Maybe what you said last night is right." she said tightly.
He was at a loss; he'd said a lot of things- calling her a tiny shrill opposite-of-Houdini flying woman was what stood out the most though he was pretty sure he didn't say that to her face. He was sure he would still have the mark from the extra-hard slap he would have received. "What did I say?" he asked instead, taking the safest route was probably the best idea in this situation, he wanted her to stop crying but he didn't want her to turn into a rabid pitbull. And you know how women can be with their mood swings.
"Maybe I'm a ghost" she whispered sniffling "Maybe I'm dead."
"Hermione, ghosts can't slap the way you did. I can still feel that you know!" he said trying to get at least a small smile from her. Success! A slight curve of her lips gave him a rather strange feeling in the pit of his stomach but he chose to ignore it and continue the plan to stop her crying.
"Listen to me Hermione. That was stupid. Ghosts don't exist and you quite clearly do. Unless I'm imagining all of this but then if I was we wouldn't be having this conversation because you wouldn't be crying because I don't deal with crying women well so I wouldn't imagine it… did that make sense?"
"No." she laughed this time wiping the stray tears from her eyes. He congratulated himself on a job well done.
"Didn't think so, but do you get the idea? You're here. I don't know how you're here, I don't know why you're here but you are. You're not a ghost and you're definitely not dead."
She nodded silently and Harry wondered why it was so important that he stop her crying. He also wondered how he had actually managed to stop her crying but he decided that it didn't matter much. So long as she wasn't doing that hosepipe thing women were so fond of then it was all good in his eyes.
"Right, I'm going to go and shower- try not to come in this time alright?" he grinned standing from his position on the floor.
"I'll try to contain myself" she grinned as he grabbed some clothes from the pile next to her chair. He was almost sure they were clean.
*~*~*
A/N: I forgot to mention in the other chapters but please review and let me know what you think. This is my first fic in a very long time so I'm a little nervous about posting it… Thanks!
~ Bec AKA Harry/Hermione 4eva