Author's Note
So nice to "see" you all again! *smiles and waves* Hope you don't mind, but this chapter is basically just about Harry and Hermione…
SORCERERS' NOOK
By JanieB
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
In which Dean and Neville recover from an unexpected surprise after which they stay up late, talking; Harry and Hermione forget all about being tired and while they don't finish their coffee, they do have a very interesting chat and share yet another kiss…
Harry and Hermione were spared the embarrassment of knowing they'd been seen because Dean, after a few seconds of gaping at them, elbow-nudged Neville who was standing on the step below him, then turned and grabbed his friend's arm and led the way back down the stairs.
Once Dean had shut the door of his flat behind them, they stood and stared at each other for a few seconds.
`What the hell was that?' exclaimed Dean, looking outraged.
`I'd say it was a pretty serious bit of snogging,' replied Neville despondently, adding in an undertone not meant for Dean's ears, `Damn it!' But even as he said it, he realised he didn't actually feel overly shocked or surprised. Disappointed is how I feel, he thought glumly, disappointed that it wasn't me kissing Hermione. Disappointed to realise that Hermione will probably never kiss me the way she was kissing Harry…
Dean was too busy trying to process what he'd just seen to hear what Neville was saying, quietly or otherwise. He marched across to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of Ogden's out of the cupboard along with two glasses.
`To hell with coffee,' he told Neville who'd taken a seat at the bench. As Dean set the whisky and glasses down, Neville found himself reliving the memory of Harry and Hermione in the Two Hoots the previous weekend and his initial feeling in the pub that he was somehow vying with Harry for Hermione's affections; then, after returning to Harry's flat to watch a movie, the way Hermione had curled up beside Harry and fallen asleep with her head nestled in the crook of his neck, Harry's arm around her shoulders. He had realised that night that Harry had feelings for Hermione - but it was on this night he'd been made unexpectedly aware that Hermione must reciprocate those feelings; after all, surely you wouldn't kiss someone like that unless you had feelings for them...
Dean had poured them a drink each and holding up his glass, he said to Neville, `Here's to surprises!'
`Good or bad?' asked Neville dryly, picking up his glass and touching it to Dean's.
`Either. Both,' said Dean, then emptied his glass in one swallow.
`I'm curious,' said Neville, sipping his drink a little more sedately, `as to why you would be upset by Harry and Hermione having a snog?'
Something in Neville's tone caught Dean's attention and he studied his friend's face carefully for a short while before replying, `I'll tell you why I'm upset, if you'll tell me why you are.'
Neville shrugged, watching as Dean topped up his drink; while being naturally reticent, he'd never deliberately hidden his feelings for Hermione, it was just that no one had ever asked him. `I suppose I've been in love with Hermione for what feels like forever.'
Dean's hand froze in midair, the bottle suspended above his glass; he stared at Neville.
`You? In love with Hermione?'
Neville gave his friend a self-deprecating smile as he nodded. `Why wouldn't I be? Aside from being downright beautiful, at least to me, she's clever, smart and she's also kind and gentle and caring.'
`Well, yes, I guess she is - I suppose I understand - I just never thought of anyone being in love with Hermione except Ron.'
`And Viktor Krum,' put in Neville.
Dean grinned. `Forgot about that one.' He took another sip of his drink before saying, `But Harry? It's just - well, it's a bit weird.'
`Why?' asked Neville. `Any weirder than me being in love with her?'
Dean frowned into his glass. `I suppose not. It's just that I'm now wondering if Harry broke up with Ginny because of his feelings for Hermione.'
Neville sighed. `Could be. But I've been living here at the Nook with them for a few years now and until very recently I never noticed anything with Harry and Hermione. Not until after he split up with Ginny, at any rate.' Although there were times at Hogwarts when I did wonder about them…
`You're not just sticking up for him?' asked Dean.
Neville shook his head. `Nope. I've always been very aware of Hermione and erm, well,' Neville paused, looking distinctly uncomfortable, `also very aware if anyone's noticed her, if you know what I mean.'
`Yeah, I do know what you mean.'
`Well, I never noticed Harry noticing Hermione before last Saturday, so definitely not before he broke up with Ginny.'
A thoughtful frown creased Dean's brow. `Well, I suppose it's not too hard to give him the benefit of the doubt. He's always been one of the most honest blokes I know.' If Dean sounded a little begrudging, it was because he was feeling rather conflicted. On one hand he was feeling furious with Harry on Ginny's behalf for appearing to have "moved on" from her so easily after hurting her so much, while on the other hand he was glad Harry was now "out of the way", giving him hope for his own future with Ginny; despite knowing it was illogical to do so, he couldn't help but feel that this somehow showed disloyalty to Ginny
`So you're upset about this on Ginny's behalf?' asked Neville.
It was now Dean's turn to look uncomfortable; he didn't meet Neville's eyes as he mumbled something that sounded like, `Well, yeah. Sort of.'
Neville's eyebrows shot up. `So you have a thing for Ginny, do you?'
Dean now looked distinctly embarrassed. He shrugged, then as he caught Neville's eye, he couldn't help but chuckle. `Yeah, I admit it. I never stopped having a thing for her. Not since we were at school. I was pretty pissed off when she took up with Harry after breaking up with me.'
`You haven't stopped liking her since school? Seriously?' asked Neville incredulously.
Dean's smile said it all. Then Neville burst out laughing. `We're a fine pair, aren't we?! You in love with Harry's ex and me in love with Harry's latest!'
They spontaneously touched their glasses together and drained them, still laughing as they put them down.
`So, you gonna tell Ginny about that?' asked Neville, holding out his glass for a refill and jerking his head upwards by way of indicating what they'd seen on the floor above.
`I don't think I should,' said Dean, `I mean, it's not really any of my business and I don't think it'd help Ginny right now.'
`And it might look to her as though you're trying to make yourself look good in her eyes by making Harry look bad. Never a good thing.'
Dean looked mildly surprised at this notion, then shrugged and nodded in agreement.
Neville then asked, `So now that we've sorted out our love lives, what d'you think of the whole situation with this Dark One and that book of Hermione's?' As he finished speaking, Neville was suddenly struck by the memory of a somewhat tipsy Hermione offering to show himself and Harry a "special book"; he realised in that instant that she must've been talking about the Book of Records she and Harry were using in their research. He explained all this to Dean who, like Neville, wondered how the book had been acquired. So it was that the two former school mates finished their drink, switched to coffee and went on to talk until past midnight.
*
When Harry and Hermione's kiss finally came to an end, Harry dropped his hands from Hermione's face and wrapped his arms around her, holding her closely against him, his cheek resting against her hair. He wished he could hold her like that every day - he wished he could tell her how much he loved her, but right at that moment, more than anything he wished he could pick her up and carry her to bed…
`Harry?' Hermione's muffled voice interrupted his wishful thinking.
Loosening his arms so that Hermione could turn her head to look up at him, Harry murmured, `Yes?'
`I think we need to do something about this kissing-each-other-at-random-moments thing.'
Harry stared at her for just a second before giving her a lopsided grin; he knew that unfortunately, Hermione's idea of what the "something" they needed to do didn't match his current idea of the "something" he desperately wanted to do...
`What do you think we should do then?' he asked, willing to go along with whatever she suggested, desperate for anything that would distract him from the undeniably wanton thoughts churning in his head.
Hermione smiled. `Get out of the hallway, for a start.'
Harry smiled back, then reluctantly dropped his arms and followed Hermione into her flat, shutting the door behind them; not surprisingly, they both seemed to have forgotten how exhausted they'd felt a mere five minutes ago…
`Tea or coffee?' asked Hermione, automatically glancing at the basket over by the fireplace; Crookshanks was curled up in it, fast asleep.
`Coffee, please,' said Harry, walking into the kitchen behind Hermione. Leaning back against the bench and folding his arms, found a simple, private enjoyment in watching her go about opening cupboards and filling the kettle, her movements and hands all naturally graceful.
Hermione was acutely aware of Harry's scrutiny, while at the same time doing her utmost to appear as though she was oblivious to it. She took her time, partly to make sure she didn't fumble anything, partly because she needed to think before she and Harry sat down with the coffee she was making and talked. But talk about what? The fact that I've discovered kissing Harry is…good? What a pathetically feeble description, Hermione! she smiled to herself. Kissing Harry is…exciting. Hmmm, better. And then a thought presented itself, making her fumble slightly with the coffee jar. Sexy. Kissing Harry was sexy. And hot. Very! Harry was sexy. And hot. Very! Hermione risked a quick glance at Harry, smiling nervously when she saw he was still watching her, his green eyes clouded with some emotion she didn't dare try to fathom just at that moment. She had the illogical and uneasy feeling he'd somehow heard her thoughts, although she knew that was impossible. Then she wondered frantically how it was she'd started thinking of Harry as sexy and why kissing Harry made her feel - well… Enough for now! I know we've been so preoccupied and busy recently that I haven't had a chance to give any time to thinking through this whole kissing Harry thing. And what would Ginny say? Hermione froze, her fingers curled around the handle of the fridge. What would Ginny say? What would she say to Ginny? `Ginny, how are you? By the way, I've found out why you were so hung up on kissing Harry.' Ginny. Her best friend. Not once since she and Harry had kissed the first time had she given a thought to Ginny!
`Hermione? You all right?'
The sound of Harry's voice startled her and she jumped. Then realising she was still holding the fridge door handle, Hermione pulled on it and said as casually as she could manage, although her voice sounded shaky to her own ears, `I'm fine - I was just thinking.'
`About what?'
Hermione lifted a carton of milk out of the door shelf and before she could stop herself, she said, `Ginny.'
`Oh.'
Hermione drew out her wand as she carried the milk across the kitchen, levitating the two mugs of hot coffee to the bench beside Harry, then poured some milk into both after which, with a casual wave of his hand, Harry returned the milk to fridge. By unspoken agreement, they remained standing where they were rather than sitting down at the table or up at the bench; they each picked up their coffee, Hermione turning and leaning back against the bench, mirroring Harry.
`Why are you thinking about Ginny?' asked Harry quietly.
`She didn't speak to you tonight, did she?' asked Hermione, as though she hadn't heard Harry's question.
`No, but I didn't expect her to.'
`Mr and Mrs Weasley did.'
`Yes, and they were very kind and understanding, I have to say.'
`You didn't expect that?'
Harry shrugged. `I wasn't sure what to expect from them, actually.'
`Dean didn't leave her side the whole night.'
`I noticed that too. I'm glad she had his support. I have a strong feeling he's been carrying a torch for Ginny since school.'
Hermione nodded in agreement. Neither said anything for a minute as they sipped cautiously at their hot coffee. Then Hermione spoke again.
`I've only just realised that I hadn't thought of Ginny once since you - since we - I mean after we…' Hermione's voice faded away; for some reason she found that the words, "we kissed", just wouldn't come out.
Harry suffered no such qualms. `You mean since we kissed that first time?'
Hermione winced slightly, then nodded, staring into her coffee cup. Harry and she had kissed today. And yesterday. And the day before yesterday. Three days, three kisses. Only three days? It feels like three months, so much has happened…
Harry had been somewhat horrified when Hermione said she'd been thinking of Ginny. He was afraid it may mean that Hermione would pull away from him, believing it was wrong for them to go beyond friendship because of Ginny. He couldn't bring himself to contemplate such a thing and Harry's jaw tightened as he found himself feeling distinctly aggravated at this prospect. As Hermione's silence continued, his aggravation increased, building up swiftly. His fear and insecurity, however baseless, then forced their way out and he found himself speaking with no knowledge of what he was going to say, each word forming as he spoke it. He listened to himself, appalled at what he said, even as he said it.
`Hermione, I really hope you're not going to tell me that "this ends here" or "we can't let this happen" or some such utter rubbish just because you're worried about Ginny or what people might think.'
Harry grimaced as he closed his eyes, feeling instant regret for even to his own ears, his voice sounded petulant and his words puerile. And because his eyes were shut, he felt rather than saw Hermione stiffening with indignation beside him.
After what seemed an interminable silence, Harry slowly opened his eyes, daring only to stare fixedly down into his coffee. He wondered if the painful band tightening around his chest meant he'd stopped breathing. He was in a quandary with no clear idea of what he could say, or do, to resolve it. He tried to speak, to say her name, but instead of "Hermione", he heard some peculiar, strangled sound.
And then Hermione finally spoke, and each softly-spoken word was like a jagged shaft, piercing his heart.
`Is that what you truly think of me, Harry? That I would heartlessly dismiss you, someone I've known and cared about, and respected, since I was eleven?'
Harry could only shake his head, feeling numb with despair.
`Harry?'
Harry lifted his head slowly, staring straight ahead, and when he finally managed to speak, it was in a hoarse whisper.
`I'm so sorry, Hermione. More than anything, I wish I could take back what I said. I don't know why I said it - it's not what I think of you at all. I think I'm just -' Harry hesitated, not sure he wanted to say the first word that had come into his head, then since he knew it to be true, he took a deep breath and continued, `- I'm scared, Hermione.'
`Harry, please look at me.'
Harry turned his head slowly and looked down at Hermione. His heart skipped several beats as he saw hurt - caused by me! - mingled with heartrending tenderness and a touch of uncertainty.
`How do you feel about me?' Hermione asked him softly.
Harry stared at Hermione, his initial amazement quickly replaced with admiration. She has more courage than I do, he thought. I'd be too afraid to ask that question right now. Taking another deep breath to steady himself, Harry turned and put his mug down on the bench, gently taking Hermione's from her as well and placing it beside his. Then he took her hands in his, drawing her around so that they were facing each other.
I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to answer that, Hermione, he thought, desperately afraid of saying the wrong thing again. Without having the actual words for it, Harry nonetheless recognised that Hermione had put herself in a very vulnerable position by asking how he felt about her; it filled his heart with hope and an exquisite tenderness for her - and love so poignant, his breath caught in his throat.
Should I tell you how much I love you? No, I can't blurt that out just yet - too soon! I like you very much, Hermione? Bit weak. I guess honesty is the best policy.
`Hermione, you are one of my best friends - you're my closest friend. My dearest friend. You always will be. But I no longer only think of you as just my friend. You've become so much more than that. And I know this probably isn't the best time to tell you this - and I know it may feel a bit strange at first, because of you and Ron and me and Ginny - but I want to…' Harry faltered, unsure of how to continue.
Then words were forgotten - they didn't matter - because Hermione smiled at him and the look in her eyes caught him and held him spellbound; it was as if her thoughts were there for him to see in the warm, lustrous brown depths of her gaze: He watched as her perception of him altered, he could see as her newly discovered awareness of her own feelings unfolded; he saw, too, understanding of what it was he'd been trying to say and as this fascinating journey came to an end, he was certain he caught a glimpse of desire to match his own…
`I think,' whispered Hermione, sounding slightly breathless, `I think that I might feel the same, Harry - that I see you as more than just my best friend. I can hardly believe it, but there it is.'
With Hermione's words, Harry suddenly felt his whole body become ultra-light, as though he was floating - suspended in mid-air. He wanted to jump and cry out - he wanted to laugh! He fought down a wild impulse to pick her up and swing her around and shout for joy, but his irrepressibly radiant smile and glowing eyes gave him away and Hermione's expression became uncertain and apprehensive as though the strength of his elation was too overwhelming for her.
Harry felt an unpleasant swooping sensation in his stomach when he saw the change in her and immediately tried to reassure her.
`Hermione, please! You needn't be afraid - especially not of me!'
`I'm not afraid, Harry, never of you - it's just that I'm trying to make sense of all of this, when it seems to be so sudden and so much, so quickly! And Ginny - even though she's my best friend, somehow I don't feel as though I'm betraying her and I don't know why and I don't suppose things will be the same between us, at least not for a while - maybe never! I mean, I'm so used to you, but now it's different! And I feel safe with you, I've always felt safe with you, so even though I'm sort of afraid, I'm not really. And I feel excited, too, and happy - ' Harry found himself grinning uncontrollably, happiness bubbling up inside him as he listened to Hermione and without thinking, he leant down and silenced her with an impulsive little kiss. Hermione groaned, then grinned back at him before finishing with, `Dear Merlin that all sounded so ridiculously lame and confused!'
Harry let go of her hands and for the second time that night, pulled her into the circle of his arms, murmuring soft words of reassurance. Hermione sighed and relaxed into his embrace, wrapping her own arms around him.
`I do know what you mean,' he told her softly, `because I went through that a couple of weeks ago when I first realised I didn't love Ginny any longer, and that I hadn't for some time and that I had feelings for you. So I guess I'm a jump or two ahead of you in that department. I feel quite clear headed now though, and I know - well, at the risk of sounding really corny - I know what's in my heart. And I'm the happiest I've ever been now.'
He felt her begin to shake and knew she was crying - something Ginny had never done before the night he ended their relationship. And yet, instinct kept his lips closed and his arms tight; he simply held her and waited patiently, knowing that when she was ready to speak, she would do so.
When he felt her pulling back, he brought his hands to rest on her shoulders while she wiped her eyes with her fingers, trying to apologise for crying all over him.
`Don't,' he told her gently, `If having a good cry makes you feel better, I'm all for it.' Especially when it's me that gets to hold you like this, and comfort you.
Hermione gave him a watery smile as she brought her hands up and laid them on his chest, very aware of the feel of his fingers gently rubbing her shoulders.
`I honestly don't know what to say Harry! I feel half confused and half happy - and part of me feels a strange sort of peace about all this, while another part is still trying to figure out how we're going to destroy that accursed Dark One!' Hermione's tone sounded slightly hysterical and she looked as though she wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry again.
Harry felt as though he could defeat a thousand Dark Ones at that moment and he grinned at Hermione as he told her, `Well, we can work on the confused half and personally, I'm really, really happy about the happy half and the peace part. As for how we destroy the Dark One - I have no doubts about us managing that, especially with all the help and support we've got.'
Hermione sighed and smiled. `I believe there's a strong possibility I'm going to wake up in the morning and think that I dreamt all this.'
Holding her gaze, Harry let his right hand drop from Hermione's shoulder to follow the curve of her back down to her waist; he exerted gentle pressure, drawing her closer to him. He could feel his heart rate begin to climb and when Hermione's hands slid up over his chest and her arms wound around his neck, he thought his heart was going to jump out his chest. He was intensely aware as every delicious inch of her slowly came into contact with him.
`Do you know,' whispered Hermione, `I've just realised that each time we've kissed, for those moments I don't feel confused or mystified; I just feel -' Hermione paused, searching for the right word. She frowned thoughtfully, a small crease between her eyes; then the frown disappeared and she smiled up at Harry as she finished, `I just feel right. That everything is as it should be.'
`I believe that everything is as it should be, when I'm with you, Hermione.' Harry felt surprised at hearing himself say those words. He'd never been terribly eloquent with Ginny, with whom there hadn't been this depth of feeling of sureness and rightness. And yet, the words were simply there, plucked from some corner of his mind as though they'd been waiting for the right moment - or for the right person to say them to…
And then his mouth covered hers once more, only this time there was so much more behind the meeting of their lips - a newfound awareness and a sense of wonder at the discovery of feelings previously unacknowledged - all adding to the enjoyment and passion they were experiencing. Harry now had both his arms wrapped tightly around Hermione, one still around her waist, the other around her shoulders, his hand enmeshed in the tangled curls of her hair, his fingers clasped around the back of her neck. Hermione found herself lost in a kiss such as she'd never before experienced; Harry was agonisingly aware of the rushing tide of desire that threatened to take control - all his senses were being overwhelmed by the impact of this one, single kiss.
As though aware of Harry's escalating desire, Hermione began to slowly pull back from the kiss, aware that she was also in danger of losing herself to a longing that was unexpectedly strong - and she wasn't quite ready for that, at least not yet. Harry sensed her withdrawal and managed to reign himself in, although not without a struggle; his every instinct and feeling cried out for him to go on, to demand, to plead, to cajole, for more. When their lips finally parted, Harry was shaken by the strength of his reaction to Hermione, both physical and emotional. Hermione too, felt dazed. `Well,' she managed, feeling as breathless as if she'd just run a mile, `that was - that was…'
`Yeah, it was,' offered Harry with an attempt at a grin, experiencing an identical loss for words. He and Hermione stared at each other for a few seconds; it was as though they were seeing each other for the first time which, in a way, they were, for they were now looking at each other as a man and a woman, the ability to exist and continue within the confines of a purely platonic friendship gone forever. They both felt a shiver of apprehension, for on some deeper level, they were both aware of this. And the fact that there was no going back.
Harry took a deep, shuddering breath. `I'd better go,' he said, his voice sounding gruff to his own ears.
Hermione nodded. `We both need a good night's sleep,' she offered.
`We do,' agreed Harry. `So, I'll see you in the morning, then?' He gazed at her, his heart in his eyes, his desire clearly blazing through his glasses.
Hermione nodded, the look in Harry's eyes robbing her of the power of speech.
`Good night,' he whispered huskily as he walked to the door, doing so almost sideways so that he didn't lose eye contact with Hermione. Hermione stood as still as a statue in the kitchen, holding his gaze unblinkingly as he departed.
When the door closed behind him with a faint, reluctant click, Hermione turned and leant over, putting her arms on the bench top beside their forgotten coffees, dropping her head to rest on them as she moaned softly to herself.
Oh my God! Harry! And me! It's so incredibly crazy and yet so - so sane, all at the same time! She could feel hysterical laughter beginning to bubble up and quashed it, at the same time ignoring the milling crowd of thoughts threatening to overwhelm her. Not now! she told herself firmly. Not tonight! Tonight I need to rest and sleep - there is so much to be done and so little time in which to do it…
Needless to say, it took both Harry and Hermione quite some time to fall asleep, and when sleep did finally claim them, they both found themselves immersed in very pleasant dreams. About each other, of course…
*
The next morning Hermione found herself suddenly and wide awake and sat up in bed; the sun hadn't risen properly yet and it was still mostly dark outside. Her first thought was that neither she nor Harry had spoken to Dean the previous night, something they'd hoped to do; they would have to arrange a meeting with him as soon as possible. Then her head became full of nothing but Harry and she sank back down, closing her eyes as her head hit the pillow. Harry... Harry likes me, he really, really likes me! Harry wants me… she felt a familiar warmth flood her cheeks at this thought. And I want Harry. Hermione gasped out loud then laughed, feeling intoxicated. It's all so strange - but so exciting! It's as though there was a part of me I knew nothing about until Harry kissed me - and now I feel like someone else, a new person, but still me… Hermione chuckled to herself, wondering how long it would take to get used this new part of her. But I'm fairly certain I'm going to enjoy doing so!
Although he didn't know it, Harry woke up shortly after Hermione. His was a much slower awakening; he was reluctant to give up sleep when it held a tantalising dream vision of Hermione which he wished fervently was real. One thing that was real, was the level of his discomfort; not that this discomfort wasn't a familiar morning experience, but this particular morning it was distinctly greater…or should that be harder? Harry laughed at himself. Hermione. He felt impatience sweep through him. He cursed the need to deal with this latest threat when all he really wanted to do was spend time with Hermione. The memory of how it had felt having her pressed against him, having her arms around his neck… Harry groaned. Enough of that! he told himself firmly. First things first. Dammit.
He rolled out of bed and made his way out to the kitchen, automatically waving his hand to light the candles as he headed for the kettle. Hedwig hooted softly from her perch and Harry gave her a mumbled `morning, girl'. Half an hour later, feeling much more awake after a coffee and a shower, he put some owl treats and fresh water in Hedwig's small bowls fastened to the end of her perch, then headed for Hermione's flat.
The strip of light across the bottom of her door told him that she too was up, but as he lifted his hand to the doorknob he froze, and while his body was motionless, his mind was filled with a fast flowing stream of thoughts and visions. Harry shook his head to disperse them. How many hundreds of times over the past couple of years have I done this? Just walked up to this very door and walked in, more often than not, without knocking? But this is the first time that it's different. Everything's different. He grinned and opened the door.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Author's Note
See you next Thursday! Janie xoxo
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