A/N:
Hey, guys! I'm back! I'm so sorry for staying silent for so long. And even though I have so much to do right now, I really think it was time to put something up. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
By the way, I was also inspired. I recently watched Enchanted. And I do recommend seeing the movie. It's truly magical! Amy Adams really showed here how brilliant an actress she was, and a marvelous singer as well!
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"Who the hell are you?"
The man glared at Hermione as she continued to stare defiantly. Her outburst must have shocked him because he just couldn't stop looking with his mouth opening and closing, as if he had formulated some words, but just could not get them out.
"What the hell do you mean by that?" he finally said.
Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "Are you stupid?"
He crossed his arms across his chest, those broad shoulders of his stiff as a board. "Do you actually expect me to believe you don't know me?"
Hermione had the gall to laugh when she heard the incredulity in his voice, even when he meant to sound nonchalant. "I gathered you were famous, I should have expected you to be arrogant."
Despite the dim light, Hermione swore she saw the muscle in his jaw tick. "Arrogant, just because I expected you to know me?"
"Not everybody you meet will fall on your feet."
He nodded mockingly and inclined his head. "So what the bloody hell was that kiss all about?"
It was Hermione's turn to look stupid. "Just that."
"Come of it, lady, I will never take you for someone who kisses every stranger she meets."
Hermione placed her hand on her hips. "I don't."
"Then why the hell did you kiss me?"
"That's none of your business," she muttered, copying his stance, "You don't know me."
"You kissed me when you had no idea who I am. Now you're telling me that you don't know me enough to explain why."
"Don't you dare be condescending!"
"And don't you dare play innocent!" he shouted, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.
"I'm not!" Hermione shouted back.
"Then explain to me why you thought that you could just kiss somebody you don't know and then expect him not to say anything about it."
"I didn't say I expected you not to say anything."
"But you didn't think I would have something to say either," he countered, "That's the reason you find it hard to explain it to me now."
"It's complicated."
The corner of his mouth lifted. "Contrary to what you think, miss, I'm quite bright."
"I didn't say you were stupid."
"But you said it was complicated, I believe you assume again that I couldn't think for myself."
"I never said anything about you not having the brains to do anything!"
"But you keep on implying it every time that beautiful mouth of yours opens." Then he had the nerve to drop his gaze on her lips.
Hermione stopped short. "Don't charm me. I'm through your kind."
"My kind?" he repeated, "So, you've already stereotyped me? And here you are, making me believe that you don't know a damn thing about me. Lady, you're a lousy liar."
"I'm not lying."
"You could have fooled me."
"I honestly don't have an idea who you are."
He kept silent for a moment as he considered what she said. His silence meant he was considering something, but it was clear that his anger over the intrusion had not been abated. If more, it even grew.
Hermione bit her lip as she stared at him. Should she tell him? Of course she should, she owed him an explanation. She had been the one to interrupt what would have been a quiet evening for him.
But she hesitated.
The reason for that kiss was lame; at least, it would be to him.
He seemed to be more of the rational type -one who didn't believe in fate or silly little things such as inspirations.
He might see that dare as a petty excuse for being bitter about her break up. Something that really wouldn't help her at all.
But for her, it was more than that.
That kiss was important.
But how did one go about trying to make a complete stranger see how he had become a hero for someone who needed to prove she could be somebody it was time she should be?
It was because of him that she seemed to have been released from a lifelong imprisonment.
She was like a butterfly that had escaped from her caterpillar cocoon.
Hermione grimaced.
Now that she had heard it in her mind, it didn't seem like a good idea.
Butterflies, indeed.
She saw him lift a brow as he waited for further explanation.
It must be frustrating for him to just wait while she bit her lip, trying to come up with an answer worthy of his belief. He was quite patient, she had to give him that. But would he be patient enough to hear her out after she began explaining? Somehow, she wasn't so sure now what she could say to pacify what seemed to be the growing anger in him.
"I'm sorry," she offered tentatively as a starter and found out soon enough that she expected the exact thing from him.
"Sorry?" he spat, "What the hell am I supposed to do with your sorry?"
Hermione huffed out a breath, all the rational thoughts of understanding his anger rushing out of her. "Accept it, for a start."
"I don't need your sorry," he said, "You don't even look sorry."
"That's because you're making it very hard for me to be!"
"Well, I'm sorry!" he shouted, terrifying Hermione a bit, "It's just that, when women come to me, kiss me, and then tell me they don't know who the bloody hell I am, I find it hard to understand anything!"
"What do you want me to do?"
"Start by explaining."
"I…"
He looked at her expectantly.
And then his cell phone rang.
Still glaring at her, he took it out of his pocket and flipped it open. "What?" he answered impatiently.
Hermione fiddled with her fingers as she heard the buzzing sound of an angry voice at the other end of the line. The increasing frown on this man's forehead indicated the call had not improved his mood.
She could hear his muffled sound as he spoke to the other person. His face was strained, and his Adam's apple was constantly bobbing up and down. He kept swallowing as if he was trying to get rid of a lump in his throat.
And suddenly, he was that vulnerable man again. That side of him she had seen from across the room in that pub. He had the same expression that had lured her over, and made her kiss him.
Maybe he wasn't as frightening as she made herself to believe if he could look so naïve. Perhaps he was just like her, only he was more expressive.
Hermione didn't want to add to his worries, and she was sure that he had many. She told herself that he would understand and might even find it quite stupid and funny.
Really, there was no use trying to get out of the reason she kissed him. He would find out soon enough with a little more prodding anyway. And he was certainly going to be angrier. No matter, she deserved it. What else could he do about it? It wasn't as if he would lose anything because of that.
Hermione heard him mutter a harsh `bye' to the person he was talking to, and the defeated voice he had warned her not to say anything more about what happened tonight.
But she couldn't seem to stop herself as she watched him close his phone and heard his low groan.
She took a deep breath and stepped forward. "It was a dare."
He looked up, his eyes unclear; as if he was surprised she was there. "What?"
"The kiss," she shrugged, "It was a dare."
She waited for him to speak, but he didn't. But the muscle in his jaw began to throb like hell, and she could feel his tension even from afar. Whatever made her think that he would find the dare hilarious vanished as he moved toward her, their distance lethally close.
He leaned over, his breath fanning her face. "Do you have any idea what you've done?!"
His words were spoken so softly, the icy edge they possessed pricked her very senses. In fear for what he could do, Hermione could only shake her head once and gaze with fearful eyes at his scorching ones.
"You've given me more trouble, that's what!"
He shoved her away, looked at her with contempt, and headed back to the car.
Before Hermione could think of what to do or what to make out of his anger, he had already gotten inside his vehicle and had started the engine. There was no time to even say a word to him before he backed out of his space, and drove off, leaving her all alone, with nothing but an empty feeling that she had failed yet again.
She couldn't think that anything could get any worse than feeling sorry for herself and being stranded in a deserted area…
And then, it started to rain.
------------------------------------------------------
Harry Potter couldn't help but smash his hand against the stirring wheel as visions of that brown-eyed beauty he left behind kept flashing right before his very eyes.
He hadn't meant to leave her; it was just that, finding out the reason for her stunt back in the pub had driven him over the edge. He would have accepted other reasons, reasons that he wasn't sure of right now, but a dare?
Really, what was the point in that?
And for what cause?
Didn't she think it would affect him…?
Granted, that she didn't know who he was, but still…
His cell phone rang again.
He fumbled for the speaker as he anticipated with great reluctance the never-ending sermon he would be receiving in the next minutes of this conversation. His agent's fits were rare, but when they happen, you would wish you had never been born.
"What?"
"Have you lost your mind?"
He relaxed as he recognized the voice at the other end of the line. "I still got it."
Silence. And then, "Then what the hell did you think you were doing kissing somebody after…after…"
"How did you know about that?"
"Warren told me."
Harry winced. "It's not a big deal."
"Anything that comes from your agent's mouth is a big deal."
"Did he tell you how he found out?"
"Yeah. Some local girl explained it to him when he asked around where you were."
"Great. How did Warren know we're friends?"
"Seriously, Harry, do you think something like your background would escape your agent? Agents are supposed to be meddling creatures."
"Now that makes me wonder what else he knows."
"The question is, what does he not know?" Then he laughed, "When did you arrive?"
"Last night."
"Have you contacted anyone yet?"
"Nobody knows I'm here. I was surprised to find out I've already been discovered after just a day."
"That's what happens when you do what you did. How long are you in town for anyway?"
Harry was stopped short from answering when he heard the rumble of thunder. Then he thought about her. Damn.
"I don't know," he muttered, "The game's in a couple of days."
"You're going to have some serious explaining to do."
"I know," he winced uncomfortably as another flash of lightning came and the rain started to pour down hard.
"Seriously, kissing a girl in public."
Harry felt the first tugs of guilt in his gut as he thought about her being alone. Despite the fact that she caused him more trouble than he wanted, he still didn't need to be cruel and let her get back to the city alone, and under the rain.
"Have you told your wife yet?"
"No," he chuckled, "She'll be thrilled to see you again, though. She's been asking me who I'd been meeting for the past few months. It's a relief, really, that she trusts me, or I'd be forced to get you out of hiding to prove I'm not adulterous."
Harry forced himself to laugh. "Everybody knows you've been pining for her ever since we were still in Hogwarts. You sure she doesn't suspect me?"
"Yeah, well, after you left, I pretty much made her believe I had no care where you were. You specifically told me to make it convincing. I guess I could pass more as a rejected friend than a concerned one."
"You did great." Another thunder hit the sky, and rain poured continuously on the pavement. And then he made up his mind. "Listen, I have to go."
"Uh-huh," his friend muttered, "That lady friend of yours must be waiting for you."
Harry groaned as he stirred his car around and drove back, all the way up to the hill. "She's not my lady friend; she's not even anything to me," he said as he fought to clear the vision in front of him; the front shield of his car was fogged up because of the rain. "I'll explain it to you when I see you."
"When would that be?"
Harry tried to think and had to look back when he thought he saw a form of a person. He cursed as he recognized the woman he met. Feeling quite irritated that she was a martyr in her own right to just walk back to the city; he stopped and put his gear into reverse.
"I have to go," he said with finality, "Tell Luna I said hi."
Ron sighed. "Will do."
-------------------------------------------------------
Hermione saw the car go past her.
She had seen it when it was making its way up the hill quite dangerously. She would have stopped the car for a lift home, but decided not to when she recognized who owned the vehicle. It was raining hard, and she knew that she would get sick at the end of the night, but no amount of weakness would make her lower her pride and ask if he could take her home.
She heard him come back, but she didn't stop, even for a second, to look where he would be going. She heard him shouting at her through the noisy claps of thunder and drops of rain. But she didn't stop.
Finally, the roar of the engine stopped. The next thing she knew, he was beside her, a hand on her arm.
"What do you want?" was the first thing that came from her mouth.
"It's raining," he snarled, "You didn't expect me to let you under the rain, did you?"
She glared at him, surprising him with how beautiful she looked, even with that unwelcome expression on her face. "Yes, well, I didn't expect you to leave me alone either! But you did!"
"Can we talk about this when we're inside my car?"
He rolled his eyes when she hesitated.
"Look, we both know at the end of this conversation you'd be agreeing with me, so I suggest that you follow me now before we end up with a disease."
Hermione shoved his hands away and threw him a disgusted look before marching all the way to his car and getting inside, banging his door with her might. Cursing himself for even thinking of rescuing her, he followed her. When he was already seated in the driver's seat, he shook away the water from his head, not that it did any good to his already wet head.
He took of his jacket, glad that his shirt wasn't as soaked as the rest of his clothes and fired the engine to life. Beside him, he heard her shivering and he sighed. "I can't do anything about you, sorry. I don't have any extra clothes with me."
"I'm fine," she muttered through chattering teeth.
"Whatever you say, lady."
This seemed to have ticked her off because she abruptly turned to face him. "Would you quit saying `lady'? I have a name you know."
"I know," he replied nonchalantly, turning back to right themselves on the road, "I just don't have an idea what it is. I'm sure you'll forgive me for that, seeing that you don't know me either."
"My name is Hermione."
"I didn't ask."
He could feel her murderous gaze at him, but she didn't say anything. He took a deep breath as he felt her judge him as a boorish person.
"The name's Harry."
For the first time in an hour, Hermione turned to look at him with the strangest of expressions. "Why did you…"
"Help?" he chuckled knowingly, "I'm not so terrible, you know."
She nodded. "I know."
It was Harry's turn to look pensive. "How?"
"You haven't killed me yet."
He gripped the stirring wheel tighter as he was reminded of the reason that they were in this situation. "Believe me, I am close to."
If the statement was meant to alarm her, Hermione didn't take the bait. "I really am sorry."
"Not as sorry as I am, I'm sure," he muttered as he took a right turn.
Hermione frowned at the direction they were going. They weren't taking the same direction they had earlier. This one's different, and the path ahead was dark. She started to feel that she was ready to believe he might do some violence with her. "Where are you taking me?"
He was silent for a while before she saw the corner of his lips lift into a smile. "To my house, that's where."
Hermione's heart dislodged itself off its place and seemed to have become stuck in her throat. "You can just drop me to the nearest station," she muttered, looking back, longing for a glimpse of another vehicle along the road. But to her great dismay, there was none. Her apprehension grew greater.
Harry must have sensed her discomfort because he laughed despite his foul mood. "Relax, will you?"
She stared at him in disbelief. "How can I relax?" she burst out, "You're giving me thoughts."
Harry stole a glance at her and cleared his throat. "You're not thinking what I'm really thinking. Because if you're really thinking what I'm thinking, you'd not stick around for another minute."
Hermione settled a bit into her chair after she heard this, not having any idea why. But she was still confused. "Why are we going to your house?"
"You're soaked," he shrugged as he changed gears, "You need clothes."
"You can just drive me to my house," she offered, but was somehow hoping that he would not consider the idea.
"Yes, I can, but the press would still be lurking around to catch a glimpse of me or my car," he explained, "I'd rather avoid them."
"If you're as famous as you think you are, wouldn't they know where you live?" Hermione asked.
"I just got back to town, nobody knows where I'm staying."
"You seem to have an answer for everything."
He chuckled. "That's only because you have a question for everything."
Hermione settled down, quite comfortable and quite exhilarated.
Harry seemed to be a pleasant company when he was not raging at her. But she didn't allow herself to completely let go of the feeling that she was still in danger. He was, after all, a stranger. And no matter how much his fame should reassure her, she still needed to be careful.
And she still needed to know what he was famous for.
She hugged herself to keep the chills in her body from emerging. The rain had really given her a shower, she was sure to fall ill some time later. She hoped that by that time, she was already at home. The last thing this guy needed or wanted was to take care of his intruder for the rest of the night.
"We're nearly there," he said quietly.
He must have noticed her attempt to warm herself, Hermione thought. She nodded without saying a word.
They reached his house, which wasn't bigger than the one she owned, granted that the bottom part of it was a bookstore, and the upper one was her room. It was quite eerie to look at, during the night, but Hermione guessed there was really nothing to see even during the day. The setting did not really surprise her. Harry didn't seem to be the type to settle in one place over a long period of time. Perhaps he just bought the house for a place to live in while he stayed in London.
He parked close to the steps of the front door and Hermione got out of the car just as he closed his own side of the door. They ran up the steps to avoid further rain, as if it would have done some good, and Harry fumbled for his keys.
The interlude gave Hermione the chance to appreciate his profile even closer. A little while ago, in the pub, he looked quite smashing in his imperturbable clothes and expression. Now that he was soaking wet and tension was clearly emanating from him, he looked even more dangerous, in a good sort of way.
Harry must have felt her scrutiny because he stopped to look at her with a curious expression before shoving the key in the hole and turning it open.
They came upon a darkly lit living room and when Harry flipped open the lights, Hermione was surprised that everything, from the furniture up to the walls, was clean.
"Thought I was sloppy, did you?" Harry's voice interrupted her dumbfounded state. It was as if had heard her and read the expression on her face. He sighed with humor, "Am I proving myself to be more than you thought I was?"
Hermione shrugged, "It's all right to be proven wrong sometimes."
She wandered around for a bit as he vanished to retrieve some clothes. She walked across the room as she noticed photographs on the shelf. There were few of them, but most showed him off with a girl in his arms. She was quite beautiful and they looked good together. Hermione felt something in her heart as she gazed at the happy expression on Harry's face.
Maybe he wasn't so lonely after all…
Hermione looked to the side and noticed a photograph of a person with a mustache and long unkempt hair. Somehow, the image was very familiar, but she couldn't quite come close to remembering. It was bizarre really, that she would remember somebody whom she had not met.
At the other side of the room, there were more pictures, but before she could go over and look, she heard his footsteps coming down the stairs.
He appeared before her wearing a new set of pants, and a crisp white shirt. He handed her some clothes.
"Thanks," she whispered, unable to tear his gaze away. His shirt was thin, so she could see the muscular breadth of his shoulders, and his chest. She shook her head. Her hormones were getting way ahead of her, "Um…where can I change?"
He must have been staring at her, too, because it took a while before he could direct her to the bathroom. While in there, Hermione tried her best to look as if she hadn't just cavorted all the way here under the rain. It took a while to dry her hair, but when she had, she was proud that it fell into an artless array down her back, instead of its usual wiry state.
Harry had given her women's clothes. You could say that she was more concerned than surprised that he had some with him. It wasn't really startling that he did because of the woman she had seen in the photographs, but for him to actually make her use it was disconcerting for her, more so after she had spent some few minutes wondering what it would feel like to be the girl with him in the picture.
The shirt was simple, but she had to throw onto it a sweater to cover herself fully. She had worn no underwear and it was understood what she would be revealing if she wore only one layer of clothing.
She must have been gone quite long because by the time she got outside, he already had with him two cups of steaming coffee. She smiled when he offered one to her.
"I called for car service," he mumbled when they made their way back to the living room, "They said the storm was to clear up in a couple of hours. They'd send someone by then. Is that all right with you?"
She nodded absentmindedly, poignantly remembering that she used to wish for nights like these when it was raining and the man she was with would let her cuddle close to him and he would wrap his arms around her as they waited for the rain to stop.
Of course, those dreams of hers never did happen because nobody stayed long enough to keep her company that way, not even Lucas, who had always been out. She couldn't figure out the reason that Lucas never bothered to stay with her for as long as a couple of hours. She had suspected him to have another woman; she just didn't want to believe it.
"I suppose we could talk now about that dare?" Harry said from behind.
Hermione blinked away the tears that had threatened to fall on her face, and turned to look at him. She nodded, shoving aside the thought of Lucas. "I owe you an explanation."
His gaze on her was intense as she made her way towards the sofa where he was seated. He must have sensed her reluctance, because he shrugged and said. "Not right now, if you're not up to it."
She shook her head. "It's nothing really."
"You sure?"
"The dare was something that I made with two of my friends," she said as she sat down across him, "I had drunk quite some whiskey, and it must have gotten in my head. I normally don't do dares, you know."
"I'm not arguing with that," he kidded.
Hermione threw him a sheepish look and then continued. "One of them told me to introduce myself to you."
"Which you didn't do," he interrupted light-heartedly.
"And then kiss you."
"Now that, you did."
Hermione smiled. "Really, that was it."
"That explains who gave the dare. But it really didn't explain why you had yourself put up for it."
Hermione looked away from him. It was a personal question, one that he knew should not be asked. But why was he asking? And why was she not answering?
It would be easy to put the blame on Lucas.
But then Lucas had been an important part of her life, and as much as she hated to admit, she still loved the guy. He was a bastard, but she loved him still, so what did that make her?
Desperate.
"I'm sorry about the kiss," she evaded, offering him her best apologetic smile, "I couldn't understand why you were so mad, but when I saw you had a girlfriend, I figured she might find out and it would get you in trouble."
He looked at the pictures he'd seen and laughed. Hermione wasn't so sure if there was bitterness in there, but he didn't say anything else.
It sank her spirits when he didn't refute her claim; somehow she was hoping that the girl would turn out to be his sister, or just a friend. But she should have expected a handsome guy like him would already be with somebody.
"I'm sorry," she said again, "I shouldn't have agreed when they picked you."
"Out of curiosity, why did they?"
Hermione shrugged, yawning, exhaustion overcoming her. "I didn't get to ask."
"You still haven't answered my question."
"What question?"
"Why were you dared?"
"It was just a dare. Haven't you been dared before?"
"I have, but usually the reason is because people really don't have anything to do."
Hermione smiled at him and splayed her hands across her, "There you go. We didn't have anything to do either."
"Somehow, I find that hard to believe."
"Why?"
"Because you said you don't usually do dares. And as far as I'm concerned, boredom doesn't make a valid enough reason for someone like you to just accept the challenge."
Hermione straightened. In just a short span of time, she had given him the means to analyze her. Great. She took a deep breath. "I've never been spontaneous."
"Spontaneous," he repeated incredulously, then he crossed his arms across his chest, "And the kiss was the spontaneous deed?"
"Yes," Hermione nodded once, "That's it."
"What made you decide to be spontaneous?"
Hermione looked up at the ceiling. "I'm not sure I can talk about it now."
Harry mimicked her and leaned back. "Just give me an idea so I can understand you."
"I don't know you, Harry," she wanted to plead with him to back off, but she just didn't have the strength to do so. Between discovering about Lucas' deception, and her escapade with this man she didn't know, she was finding it hard to keep her body away from sleep.
"But I can tell you, you can trust me," Harry murmured, "Besides, don't I deserve to know everything?"
She shot him a dirty look, and straightened, although the posture was quite hard to maintain, "My boyfriend thought I was not exciting enough, so he broke up with me to get engaged with a model. I wanted to be spontaneous because I needed to show him what he left behind."
Hermione said this so fast she didn't think he was able to understand, but then he did. And when Harry had fully grasped the situation, he looked at her with disbelief.
"How long had you been dating?"
"A little over a year," she answered, "why?"
"Because that was the stupidest idea I've ever heard," he muttered wickedly, "Did you really think he would come back because of that?"
It was Hermione's turn to look at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but could only manage to squeak out. "I wasn't trying to get Lucas back."
"Weren't you?" he asked, shaking his head, "You were trying to be somebody he wanted. So what? So he could see that you could be exciting enough for him to leave his fiance and go back to you? I think you're smarter than that!"
"I wanted to prove to him that he left me for no reason. But I don't want him back."
"Why was he with you in the first place?"
"What?"
"You don't mean to tell me that even after dating a year, he'd just discovered how boring you were. What made him stay for a year?"
"I don't know."
"So, how does it feel to be spontaneous?" Harry muttered.
"What?"
"How does it feel to finally be that woman he wanted? Does it feel good, does it make you feel better?"
Hermione refused to look at him. There were tears burning in her eyes and if she looked at his accusing face, she was afraid she would admit defeat. But she could no longer deny that he was right.
"I'm guessing it didn't, it only made things worse. And you dragged me along your foolish heartbreak fit!"
His words hit her like bullets and she stood up to face him defiantly. "Don't you dare speak to me as if I have no right to hurt! Lucas left me because he thought I was not good enough for him. Do you know how that makes me feel? It makes me feel stupid and worthless. I haven't kept a relationship that long. Every single man I'd been with is now married. So the fault was not with them, it's with me! So excuse me for wanting to be that woman he wanted, that woman, every one of those men, wanted."
"Stop," Harry had stood to calm her down, to face her with a cool expression, but she could see that there was something wrong with him.
His eyes…
They were...sad…
"I am sorry for barging into your life like that, but I want to prove something," Hermione shoved hard at him, neglecting the thought that he was no more than a stranger to her than she was to him, "You can say that you have the right for explanations. You can say that you have the right to be angry. But don't you dare tell me you have the right to judge me!"
The idea repulsed Harry that he wasn't thinking when he advanced on her and grabbed her arms. "I'm not judging you, damn it!" he gripped her hard enough to make her see sense, "I'm just telling you that what you did was not right. For me, nor for you."
"And what do you know about right?" Hermione struggled against his hold, "You with your girlfriend, you don't know how I feel!"
"You're wrong, I know exactly how you feel!" Harry shouted.
Hermione snickered. "Yeah, right."
His life was a completely different story. He could have any woman he wanted. With just a snap of his finger, anybody would come to save him from his pain, if he wanted to forget, he could and he would.
But she had no one.
And that was something he wouldn't understand.
Not in a million years.
To her great dismay, tears started to fall on her face. The exhaustion of today had finally overturned her emotions and she was ashamed that it was, of all the people, he who saw her weakness.
"Been dumped before, Harry?" she challenged him, owing it to herself to show some dignity. She was starting to sway, but she forced herself to look at him, to see his face clearly, "Been left without knowing the reason why? I suppose a man like you haven't had the luxury of experiencing that."
"As a matter of fact, I have," he glowered at her as her fogged mind cleared up, "Yesterday."
Hermione's hand flew to her mouth and she stole a quick glance at the photographs just behind him. Her vision was blurry, but she could see how hurt he was when he began to recall.
"Yes, that's her," he muttered savagely, still holding her in a death grip, "Got married with my teammate. Just a few days before I proposed."
"Harry, I…"
"Can you imagine my surprise when I asked her to marry me, and instead of an `I will', she answered `I'm already married.' Quite the surprise, really. I thought she was joking."
"I'm sorry," Hermione muttered, bowing her head and crying hard.
Harry let go of her and gave her some distance. She swayed on the spot but managed to keep herself on her feet He shoved his hand through his hair. "I didn't tell you that so you would pity me. I just didn't want you to pity yourself."
Hermione couldn't believe how she let her famous self-control snap. And she was ashamed that she had said some awful things to him. Even when she didn't know what happened, she had no right to say anything.
"I should go," she muttered, and then flinched when a clap of thunder reverberated across the silent room.
"You should," Harry agreed, "But I'm not letting you go out there, sick."
Hermione looked up at him and wondered, although she was beginning to understand why.
"You're already warm."
Hermione blinked. She knew she was feeling warm, but she was certain it had been because of anger. But now that she was starting to calm down, she could feel her energy was slipping out of her.
"Come on, I'll let you sleep in my room," he muttered.
"I don't think…that's necessary…I can sleep…here…on the…on the couch," Hermione placed her hand on her head as nausea forced herself to sit down. When she hit the soft cushions, she was immediately asleep.
"I'm not so angry to think that you can rest there," he said as he approached her.
He leaned over and scooped her into his arms. She wasn't heavy, but the growing warmth in her caused Harry to flinch. She was even more ill than he thought.
Cursing himself, he secured her in his arms and went up the stairs to put her into bed. When she was settled comfortably under the layers of covering, he jogged down the stairs and retrieved a glass of water and some aspirin.
He had left the nightlight open before he had gone down, so when he entered the room, it didn't take him long to reach his bed.
He was surprised to see her shivering violently underneath the covers.
"Hermione," he murmured in her ear. Even from the distance, he could feel her warmth, but she was trembling and he frowned even more.
She was suffering physically and emotionally, he remembered.
She was not a lost cause, but she certainly did not believe in herself.
But as he looked at her, he couldn't find the words to describe her other than…
She was beautiful.
Completely mesmerizing…
And it had taken him some time to recover from the shock of seeing her up close.
He had not seen her earlier in the pub. If he had, he would have been more prepared for the impact of her presence.
The moment she had stepped up to him, he immediately had this jolt of sensation. She was this exotic thing. Her hair was of luscious curves and rich honey. Her eyes were a melting color of chocolate, sweet, enticing…wickedly tempting.
And her mouth, those full lips had been driving him crazy all night!
It didn't bode well for him to be reacting this way, not after breaking up with Sophia. But, Hermione was more than he wanted her to be and he found himself liking her, despite the dangerous situation that dare of hers put him through.
Harry shook his head as his thoughts had gone way ahead of him again.
Tonight was the end of their relations. After tonight, he would never allow himself to see her again, because that would be stupid.
He didn't need a relationship.
He didn't want a relationship…
"Hermione," he murmured yet again, "wake up."
She stirred, slowly, her lids opening, blasting him with those eyes of hers.
"Drink this, then you can go back to sleep."
It took a great deal of effort for her to lift her head from the pillows and swallow the pill he had given, but when she had, her lips immediately closed and she settled back on the bed. But her shivers were starting again.
Harry had no idea what else to do but offer her some of his own warmth.
This was dangerous. He couldn't help but think. More so that he seemed to have developed a response to her whenever she got close. But she was not going to get rid of those shivers alone. Not when the rain continued to pour, and her fever spiking up.
Against his thoughts, but not his will, Harry climbed into bed with her. And leaned over to turn off the night light. She was facing him and he felt a tightening in his gut as he placed his head on the pillow next to hers.
Then he made the mistake of letting his gaze drop onto her lips.
Was it tonight that they'd just met?
It seemed like they have known each other for so long, with the way they had suddenly expressed those feelings. Would it be wrong for him, who had only gotten out of a relationship yesterday, to admit an attraction for someone who had just broken up with somebody as well?
If it was, then what he was about to do was completely out of the question…
But he was hooked…and she was pulling him closer, and closer…
Only few inches away, and he would be even warmer than what he wanted her to feel. He could feel her breath mingling with his own…
Just a few more seconds to go and she…
Turned…
Harry blinked and then laughed.
"Aw, hell…" he muttered as he comfortably settled his face instead on the crook of her neck.
She muttered something incoherent and felt her move closer.
Still shivering, he snaked his arm around her waist and let her body settle next to his. Smiling, he let himself be lulled into sleep by the rhythmic sound of her breath next to his.
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A/N:
I think this is just about enough suspense for the day. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to make another chapter next week. I sure do hope so. Again, mistakes are present, so please bear with them. I spent 5 hours doing this, so you could say I'm quite tired. 18 pages are as long as I can go. I achieved what I wanted in this chapter. And I hope you liked it.
Please, please review! Thank you very much!
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