Thank you so much everyone who has reviewed, I'm so happy to see that people are enjoying the story! It really does mean a lot :-)
Hope you enjoy this next instalment just as much, and please continue reviewing!
Disclaimer: J.K. is the genius, Harry and co. are hers.
Niffling
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Monday morning during Charms with Professor Flitwick was utter torture for Hermione. She tried to act naturally and normal, but it was so hard to try and concentrate on what Flitwick was saying, and when they were split into groups of three Ron grinned at both Harry and her in an expectant way, so there was nothing she could do to get away.
"So Hermione, tell us what we're doing here," Ron asked jovially.
"Hmm? What? Hey, what makes you think I know?" she snapped, then, seeing the confused and slightly hurt look on his face, she added quickly: "Sorry Ron, just a bit tired… didn't get much sleep last night…"
Harry tried to look like he hadn't noticed what Hermione had just said, and leaned over to ask Seamus if he knew the spell they were meant to be working on. As he turned away he heard Ron muttering to Hermione:
"Hey, are you sure that's all it is?" in a soft voice, and as Harry turned his head slightly he saw Ron reaching out to Hermione in a comforting way. Harry stiffened, waiting to hear Hermione's reply, not taking in a word Seamus was saying.
"I'm OK," Harry heard Hermione reply, and let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
"That all explained then mate?" Seamus' voice bought Harry back to the present.
"Huh? Oh, oh yeah, right, thanks Seamus!" Harry said as he turned back to the table.
"Oh right, did Seamus tell you what we're doing?" asked Ron, obviously having overheard Harry's thanks.
"Oh… yeah…"
"…Well?" Ron asked, peering at his friend inquisitively.
"Um… it was…" Harry began, realising he hadn't heard of word of Seamus' explanation.
"The Cheering Charm," Hermione broke in, and Harry gave her a relieved glance of thanks - too often had he not been listening only for Hermione to save him and for him to give her this look of appreciation. But then, once more, he stiffened - he had momentarily forgotten the reason he hadn't heard what Seamus was on about, and now that he remembered the smile slipped off his face like stink sap and he looked away from Hermione's chocolate brown eyes, cursing himself.
For just as his eyes had left hers, he felt sure they'd sparkled, filling up with extra tears.
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Hermione had managed to avoid Harry for the rest of the day after the disastrous episode in Charms, as she had different lessons in the afternoon and had grabbed herself something to eat and hidden in her dorm before Ron and Harry had even made it down from their Divination lesson.
Now, she lay in bed with the four poster curtains pulled shut against anyone wondering what was wrong. What, she wondered, was Harry actually thinking in Charms as he looked at her, with that mischievous grin he always flashed at her when he'd got something wrong and she helped out. What exactly had crossed his mind? Well, in fairness, Hermione thought she could answer that one for him - nothing. Nothing had crossed his mind at that moment, because he was just being normal, happy, Harry. No, in fact, the more she thought about it, the more Hermione realised what she actually wanted to know was what he'd been thinking as that smile suddenly wiped off his face and he gave her a look almost of horror before quickly looking away.
She angrily brushed tears from her eyes. Obviously, she realised, he was horrified at the thought of being normal with her, maybe of even being close to her after what she'd said the other night. In fact, Hermione concluded, what he was probably most horrified by was the actual words she'd said.
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"Oh Harry," she sighed leaning into him, and feeling the safety of his strong arms around her. "Oh Harry, I think I love you."
Harry woke with a start and opened his eyes wide. His heart was racing and he groaned as he realised what had woken him - again. He rolled over to look at his clock and realised it was 3am, which only made him groan again.
After a few minutes of tossing and turning in his bed, he realised there was no chance he was going to get more sleep just now, and rolled over to pick up his copy of Quidditch Through The Ages. As his hand scrabbled for a hold on the book and found only empty air, he realised it wasn't there, and remembered that he must have left it down stairs in the common room.
With a sigh, he hoisted himself up out of bed and wandered over to the dorm door and began the descent.
He didn't even notice her until he was basically on top of her; he'd just got to the chair he thought his book was on and as he walked around the front of it he nearly screamed -
"Hermione!" he yelped, and took in the sight of her. She had obviously come down from her dorm, she was in a short and vest pj set, curled up on his chair in front of the fire, which was dying down but showed signs of having been poked and a few sticks having been added.
"Harry!" she responded with equal surprise, and looked around the room quickly, as if to check if anyone else were about to leap out at her.
"I… uhh… I didn't think anyone would be down here…" Harry said, and then silently cursed himself for such a lame thing to say. They both seemed to realise at the same time that this was the first time they'd actually been alone together since she'd said those words, and the atmosphere became even more uncomfortable.
Hermione couldn't help noticing how defined Harry's abs and pecs had got, he'd come down in only a pair of baggy pj bottoms, obviously too hot for more. That Quidditch was certainly doing him some good, she thought, and he looked extra cute with his ruffled hair and without his glasses on.
Hermione cursed herself silently for looking at him and thinking these thoughts, and it suddenly occurred to her that she wasn't wearing much herself. The summer pj set she was wearing she'd had for a while now, so that where it was once baggy, it now clung to her developed form.
Harry couldn't help noticing how Hermione had filled out, seeing her pjs clinging tightly to her curves made Harry stir: she looked very different like this compared to her usual robes.
Hermione seemed to have noticed his wandering eyes, and she drew the book she had been reading to her chest, trying to keep herself decent.
"What was it you came down for?" she asked, not meeting his eyes.
"Actually it was that, um, book you're holding…" Harry admitted, recognising the front cover that was clutched to Hermione's chest.
"Oh! Sorry… I just… I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd come down and it, um, it was here…" Hermione responded, trailing off towards the end as she thought how stupid she must sound.
Harry didn't think he'd ever been so jealous of a book in his life. As Hermione tried to explain herself her chest rose and fell behind the shelter of the book, but as it rose, the book only accentuated her bosom as she clutched it to her body.
"That's OK," he replied in a somewhat strangled fashion, and tore his eyes away from her again, this time his eyes landing on the chair next to hers. He moved, somewhat jerkily, towards it and threw himself into it with a would-be-casual sigh.
Hermione watched as he stared almost defiantly at the fire, and decided to mimic his actions. She toyed with the idea of going back up to bed, making her excuses and leaving, but she realised that if she did that, she would only wonder how long he would stay down there himself, wonder what he was thinking, wonder what would have happened if she'd stayed…
Harry cursed whoever had pulled the squashy chairs closer together, he was sure they weren't usually touching, like a sofa only with arm rests dividing the occupants. He'd thought sitting down would be a good idea, keep things casual, act like they were just the same as ever. But with the chairs so close Harry could still have easily reached out and touched Hermione, felt her bare legs, run his fingers from her feet up her body until they reached fabric, and then…
Harry closed his eyes and let out a barely suppressed groan as he felt himself stir once more, teased by these thoughts and by the gorgeous girl beside him.
"What's wrong?" he heard Hermione ask, and opened his eyes to see her leaning on the arm rests separating them, looking at him with eyes full of concern.
"Nothing, I just -" Harry began, but, unable to finish, just looked away from her, across to the other side of the room.
Hermione seemed to understand, and thankfully sank further into her armchair, and away from Harry. He controlled his breathing until he had calmed down a bit and only then looked back to the fire.
Hermione was confused. She knew the best thing would be to leave, but she was sure she'd heard him groan; sure she'd seen his eyes glance appreciatively over her body, before realising what he was doing and tearing his eyes away. As he turned back to the fire again, she realised he wasn't going to start up a conversation very easily, but she also realised she was cold, and the fire was dwindling. Carefully, she moved the book she'd been hiding behind to the table on the other side of her chair - away from Harry. Then, she rose and crossed to the sticks for the fire, and, selecting a few, began to arrange them as best she could.
Harry held back another groan as he watched Hermione bend down to the fire. God her ass looked good in those shorts, and they really were very short shorts. He sat appreciating the view from behind, grateful for a chance to admire her without her being able to see his face as his eyes ravaged her body. When she stood, he admired her long legs catching the light from the fire, and as she heated her hands and rubbed herself with warmth, he felt some fantasies bubble to the surface of his thoughts and thanked God no one else was in the room to disturb them.
As her front began to warm, Hermione turned to heat her back too, and as she did so she felt Harry's eyes on her body again. She felt her nipples become erect from the sudden coolness of the rest of the room compared to the warmth of the fire, or maybe just the attention from Harry. As she realised this she glanced, embarrassed, at Harry, and saw his eyes dart to her chest and take in the sight. She looked away, mortified, and felt herself close to tears. She slumped down in front of the fire, turning side on so that she could still see Harry, but chose to look at the fire.
"Are you cold?" Harry asked, his voice sounding huskier than he'd intended, breaking the silence that he had only just realised had stretched for several long minutes. Hermione nodded, not looking at him, and stretched her legs out in front of her for them to heat up too, and Harry couldn't help but look at them again.
"Me too," he declared, and moved on to the floor to sit by Hermione's feet, his legs stretched out by the side of hers.
She glanced at him, confused, but he only stared back into the fire, so again she followed his example. What was he doing? She wondered - why was he doing this? If he'd wanted the book he could have asked, but he hadn't even mentioned it again. As her thoughts spun in confusing directions Hermione realised she was just as much to blame. She hadn't mentioned the book either, and it lay seemingly forgotten on the table away from them.
Harry's eyes slid carefully away from the fire to Hermione's face, which was frowning slightly, as if in deep thought. Content that she was occupied with her thoughts and not his face, he let his eyes roam her body again. He just couldn't believe how much she'd developed. I mean, sure, he thought, her robes were more filled out and her uniform a little tighter, but Hogwarts uniform wasn't exactly meant to serve as fashion wear, and he'd never seen Hermione revealing so much before. Or maybe it was just that she hadn't had anything to reveal, he pondered, eyeing her chest appreciatively. Catching himself, he dragged his eyes away yet again. He glanced down at her neatly polished toe nails and before he really noticed what he was doing, he traced the outside of her foot with his hands.
Hermione gasped at the touch and looked sharply down at her feet and Harry, who looked guiltily up at her.
"Sorry I just - I mean - God your feet are freezing!" He said looking back to her toes and holding her feet in his hands, warming them up.
Hermione gave an involuntary twitch, about to pull them away, but then thought better of it, and looked carefully down at Harry. He'd obviously felt the twitch as he'd looked up at her, right into her eyes, and Hermione felt herself go weak with the strength of those emerald green eyes, which hadn't properly connected with hers since looking at her with horror.
"I'm sorry," he said gently in his low voice, still running his hands over her feet. "You're just so cold… I thought I'd help…" he faltered, drawing his eyes back down to her feet. She turned her face away from him, relishing his touch but not wanting him to see how much she wanted him.
As he continued to touch her, she realised that his hands were beginning, slowly, to venture further up from her feet, first just glancing the ankles, and then running softly up her smooth legs, until soon he'd reached up to her knee with his gentle fingers gliding over her skin, apparently to warm her, although in truth wherever he touched turned to instant goose bumps. She felt him looking at her, and eventually turned to face him again, only to see him look to his fingers, now back on her toes. He looked up at her again, as if to check that she was watching, and obediently she looked to his fingers.
They both followed his fingers with their eyes as he danced them lightly up her leg and when he reached her knee this time his eyes darted back up to hers. He watched her face as he slowly extended his reach further up her leg, and when she gasped as he touched her he stopped, and looked at her until she caught his eye and looked back to his hand again, as if granting permission to continue.
He let his fingers glide higher up her legs, and when he was nearing the length of his reach he knew he didn't want to stop, and pulled himself up onto his knees to move closer to her and lean over her body as his fingers continued their ascent. As he got higher he could barely stop himself trembling as his hand neared her shorts and he glanced to her face, silently begging her to let him continue. She turned to look into his face, and slowly leaned back so that she was lay down in front of him, gazing at him vulnerably. He knew this was her way of granting permission and he moved to lie down beside her, lying on his side so that he could run his hand down her body. He grazed her nipples through the thin fabric of her vest and then continued down to her exposed midriff, which he ran his hand over lightly before teasing the waistband of her shorts, sliding a finger between them and her body. He looked at her again and saw that she had closed her eyes, enjoying feeling his hands on her. He knew that he couldn't let this just happen without being sure she wanted it, and stopped his hand with his fingers just underneath the waistband of the shorts, no lower.
Hermione opened her eyes to see him gazing down at her and realised he needed to know if she was ready. I wonder if I am, she wondered, but overrode this thought by taking his wrist in her hand, and plunging it into her shorts. His hand was warm as it stroked through her hair and Hermione felt so nervous she could barely breathe, let alone move. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Harry's hand touching her there. She felt like she could die with lust as her body yearned towards his seeking hand, and suddenly he'd pushed inside her, making her gasp and him groan as he felt her wetness waiting for him. He pushed deeper inside her and Hermione writhed under his hand not wanting him to stop. He began to pull out of her and she nearly screamed out with rage, until her exclamation was knocked out of her by the thrust of two fingers entering her this time. She pushed her body into his hand and heard his breath coming quick and hard as she moved against him. She didn't think she could feel more pleasure as she thrashed around moaning, until she gasped with renewed ecstasy when his thumb found her clit and started teasing it gently. She moaned harder and harder and Harry understood her rising desperation, and thrust into her harder and deeper than before, making her gasp and suddenly moan her release as she came with his fingers inside her.
When Harry felt Hermione's release he thought he had never seen anything as beautiful as her lying next to him, hot and exhausted catching her breath by the fire, and the small noise of disapproval she made as he pulled his hand from her shorts made him smile down at her. She had closed her eyes in apparent exhaustion and as he stared into her flushed face Harry wanted nothing more than to kiss her sweet lips. As he leaned down over her to place his lips gently on hers Hermione's eyes flickered open and he found himself looking into her eyes.
"Oh Harry," she sighed leaning into him, and feeling the safety of his strong arms around her. Harry stiffened instantly his memory coming to haunt him again. She looked at him, concerned, as his eyes suddenly darted away from hers.
"Harry? What's-?"
Harry pulled himself away from Hermione as she reached for his face and pushed himself off the floor to stand above her. He felt like he'd woken from a dream, what have I done? What was I thinking? This was Hermione, hadn't just kissing her got him into enough confusion?
"Fuck," Harry swore as he paced away from her - her, not Hermione, God he was thinking about her like a nobody now, he couldn't believe himself for letting this happen.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, picking herself up and approaching him.
"DON'T." Harry practically shouted, turning to her. All he could hear from her mouth was the unfinished sentence, the: "oh Harry, I think I love you."
"Harry I - " think I love you, Harry's memory teased. Hermione was trying to check that he was OK but all he did was pull away from her and pace and swear. "What's wrong with you? What's the matter?"
Harry tried to ignore her questions but they battered at his brain, pestering, questioning, what was wrong with him?
"You! You! I- I just…" he exclaimed, then, losing grasp of what he was trying to say, he paced away from her again, unable to look at her.
Hermione stood as if shell shocked. Tears rose up in her eyes but she barely even noticed as they blurred her vision so completely, until she blinked and the hot tears spilled down her cheeks. The blurring had gone and it wasn't just an illusion, Harry was still pacing, still angry, still not catching her eye.
"Me?" she whispered, unable to believe what she was hearing. "What have I done? I thought…" she stopped herself, wondering what exactly had she thought, what had she thought this meant to Harry? He looked up at her when she stopped speaking, and she couldn't read his eyes, couldn't tell what he was thinking. She looked away from him and noticed that the fire had gone out.
"Are you cold?" she remembered him asking huskily, and closed her eyes tight shut against the memory, trying to block it out, trying not to think about what had just happened.
Quickly she moved away from him towards her dormitory,
"Where are you going?" she heard him ask, and she turned back to him, shocked by his cheek to question her leaving.
"Away from you," she whispered, letting the fresh tears run down her face.
"Oh Harry, I think I love you." was the voice that haunted Harry's dreams.
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