Journal Entry - 13 October 1996, 7:02 a.m.
I normally don't write entries first thing in morning. I'm usually not awake enough to put two words together coherently until I've showered and had at least one cup of tea. Something happened last night that made me miss writing here (which I would normally be terribly upset about) and altered my perception of everything, and everyone, I thought I knew. It's left me so very confused.
Here's what I remember…
~*~*~*~
It was very late in the evening, or perhaps very early in the morning, depending on your perspective of things. Harry and I were both trying feverishly to complete an essay assigned by Professor Snape at the end of yesterday's potions lab.
Normally when he assigns essays, he allows a week or so to get things done. Although judging by the lack of a reaction from the Slytherins in our class, I think this time he had revenge on his mind. Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin in last weekend's quidditch match, you see. And since Harry and I were the only non-Slytherins in the class, it was a perfect opportunity. And an essay of eight feet had to be completed and turned in by 9:00 a.m., Friday even though we did not have Potions that day.
Anyhow, that's why we were on the large rug in front of the common room fireplace; scribbling furiously at the ends of what had looked like never-ending scrolls. I was happy for the company.
I pushed myself of the rug to sitting position on my knees and began stretching my aching muscles.
"You finished, Hermione?"
I look over to my left at Harry, "Nearly. I just have to write my closing remarks. You?"
Harry gave a final flourish then chucked his quill into his inkwell. "Just now."
I let out several unladylike groans and grunts as I reached in various directions trying to work the kinks out of my joints as Harry began to clean up and gather his things. My stretching wasn't having much effect so I started kneading my lower back.
"You alright?"
"I suppose so. Just a bit stiff is all. I told you we should've worked at the table."
"Yes, we should've been. But your neck is still pinched up from your late night studying last night at that same table."
"True," I muttered in a huff. "You'd think that wizards would've heard of ergonomics?"
"Erga-what? Nevermind. Just forget that I asked." I gave him a standard-issue minor glare for such a minor offence. "Look, why don't you lay down and rest, and I'll see if I can work some of the kinks out for you." Harry can be so sweet sometimes. He never really initiates much physical contact, but he knows that I've been uncomfortably stiff for the past week.
I use my wand to summon a thin pillow from the sofa and then cast a light cushioning charm on the rug under me prior to settling upon it. I lay my head on the pillow, my face towards him. And I can't help but flinch a bit as I hear Harry popping his knuckles as he drops to his knees. I can't help but roll my eyes at his clichéd antics.
"So where do you want me to start?"
"Start with my lower back and then work your way up."
I feel Harry lay lightly a hand on the small of my back. When I give no reaction, I feel his other hand slowly join it. Compared to what I need, his touch is almost feather-light. "Harry, if you don't start pressing a bit harder, you're going to tickle me." I see an impish grin worm its way up his cheeks. "Don't you dare!! Any sudden movements right now would hurt like the devil!"
His face falls as he has been suitably chastised. "Sorry, Hermione. I didn't think about that."
"It's alright. If it starts to hurt in a bad way, I'll tell you to stop. Otherwise, don't be afraid to push a bit." I know he would never hurt me intentionally, but just to see it on his face-it touches me to know that he cares so much.
Harry nods briefly and begins again. I close my eyes to try and relax. He's pressing harder now, but his hands are still very tentative. "A little harder," I encourage without opening my eyes.
Harry says nothing, but I can just see him nodding to me in my mind's eye. After a while he finally gets into a rhythm, but he's staying in the same spot.
"Feels good but move up, Harry."
The hands on my back slowly climb upward and I let out a low moan when he comes across the spot just below my ribcage that's been so sore this evening. At my sound, he stops again, and I'm getting a bit frustrated with him now. "That felt better, Harry, but don't stop until I tell you to. Sounds are good unless I tell you to stop."
Some five minutes more, I think Harry has found his calling. His fingertips are working magic on the aching areas of my lower back. I just wish he'd go on up to my shoulders and my neck. But every time he brushes the strap across my back, he goes back down. I know he's somewhat naïve, but surely he knows what a brassiere is!
Merlin and Circe! That's the sixth time! Enough is enough!
"Honestly, Harry! I thought you'd said you were going to rub my neck and my shoulders!" I yell as I shove myself up to sit on my knees. He falls to his back with a start at my sudden movement, but I'm so frustrated that I really don't care.
"Yes Harry, I am a girl! And yes Harry, I do wear a bra!"
I pull both of my arms inside my shirt and loop them behind my back to start a familiar manoeuvre. I remove the offending garment, push my arms back out through the sleeves, and chuck the rubber band over to my schoolbag by the sofa.
"Get over it!" I then flop back down to my pillow and close my eyes, waiting patiently (at least in my mind) for Harry to start again. After another moment without satisfaction, I open my eyes to glare at Harry.
"Anytime now, Harry!"
If I had been more patient, I would see Harry staring dumbstruck at my undergarment lain out against by bag. While I admit it isn't one of the most conservative pieces I own, it not the most risqué either. As it is, I would only see that in retrospect later as Harry dives to start rubbing my back again, and I am once again in my Happy Place.
Harry moves on up my back with a vengeance. His fingertips dig in aggressively to work out the kinks. Several times, I don't even bother to catch the loud moans that escape my mouth and throat. It feels that good! The louder the moans, the more intense Harry's rubbing.
My eyes pop open after a particularly load moan when I feel more than a little tingling of arousal on my skin and in a few other areas. I'm glad for the low lighting, as I know my face must be aflame by now. While I have felt that particular sensation before, it has never been something that I would have associated with Harry.
I settle down a bit and Harry seems to have followed suit. He is now moving in a slow rhythm over my torso. I feel Harry stop briefly and open my eyes long enough to see Harry shift to lie a foot or so from me before resuming, and I gift him with a sleepy smile.
"Thank you, Harry. I've never felt better."
His eyes light up as he smiles at me. "Your welcome. It was my pleasure."
I feel my head start to cloud and my eyes seem to close of their own accord. I hear a voice like my own say quietly, "You're such a wonderful person, Harry. I don't ever want to know what my life would be like without you."
After what could have been a few minutes or a few hours, I feel something warm, soft and slightly moist press against my forehead, and I hear Harry's familiar voice.
"I don't ever want to know what my life would be like without you either. You're strong and confident and so very smart. You've saved me more times than I care to count. I wish I were more like you. If I were, I would be able to talk to about what I'm feeling while you're awake. This will have to do though.
"I care about you so much, Hermione. So much that it scares me-for several reasons, in fact. Sometimes, like right now, I feel like I want to pull you in close to hold you and never let you go. Other times, I see you reading or studying and you look so beautiful that I feel like kissing you. I think about you all the time… what you may be doing… what you might be thinking when you have a certain look on your face. It takes everything I have to keep from doing that to you. To think that I would want to use you like that scares me and makes me so confused. That's because I know it would ruin the great friendship with you that I treasure above everything else. I don't know if I fancy you, or love you, or whatever it may be. I just know it hurts because that I know you will probably never feel the same way about me.
I vaguely feel something warm rubbing over my hand and hear a quiet sniffle from beside me.
"As it is, I know you'll probably hate me after today anyway. I have to pull away from you and stop being your friend. Tom is after me again, and now I know why. There was a prophecy made before my birth that basically said that I am the only one that can destroy him, and that I will end up killing him or that he will kill me. Because of his experience and the power he commands, I'm afraid that my only chance to get rid of him is to do something stupid-something that he wouldn't understand, and it will probably mean my death. But if it means that you will eventually live and be happy, then to me, it's worth it.
"If I had any Gryffindor courage, I would tell you all this. But I can't. I can't let you get in the middle of this. If you are, you'll be hurt terribly-I just know it. And I can't live with that. I can live with you hating me, but I won't allow you to be hurt. Knowing that I'm trying to make it safe for you is the only thing that makes this all bearable to me. I just hope that when everything is said and done that you won't hate me for being such a coward. I just hope that you'll eventually see that I am doing this because I love you so much. Well, I mean... I do and that will have to be enough.
"Anyhow, I hope you'll remember tonight well because this is goodbye for me. Goodbye, love."
I feel a warm breath on my cheek, a soft press against my lips this time, and then a warm blanket sliding over me, which I curl into its softness. Then the eerie silence and the hissing and crackling of the fire in the grate are all that remain.
~*~*~*~
I remember Harry rubbing my back, and my bra was tucked inside my bag this morning as I woke in front of the fireplace. But Harry was already gone. I don't know if the rest was just a dream or if it was real. I don't even remember everything he said in the `episode.'
I know I can't confront him about it, but I can't just let it go either. I just know that if he tries to step away, I won't let him. As far as how I feel about Harry now, I just don't know. I guess I'll just have to leave that up to him.
-- HJG
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