Harry tried to decipher how he truly felt at those small moments as he woke up once again. It was a mixture of nausea and light-headedness, which apparently made his eyes droop. He glanced out the window to see the sun setting. His head was still firm against the carpeted floor, and he'd wondered how he fell asleep in the first place.
It was then that he felt his right arm numb severely.
He attempted to pull away, yet a heavy weight disrupted him. Hermione lay cuddled within his arm, her breathing steady as she got lost in her own deep sleep. Harry suddenly felt himself grow conscious. He closed his eyes for a second as he tried to distract himself from the shoots of numbness that started to fill his whole body, as well as the tight clenching of his stomach by the mere sight of her. She shifted slightly in her position, before slowly draping her arm to his chest.
His breathing escalated.
Her face was now dangerously close to his, just as her head rested idly by his shoulder. It was a sight strong enough to drive him mad. The mere feel of her breath against his skin caused his heart to beat rapidly beneath his chest. It was enough that their bodies were too close for comfort.
His breath hitched.
Hermione's hand snaked slowly, almost featherlike, down to his stomach, making Harry's mind go blank. He heard her sigh in her sleep in contentment, and noticed a small smile that started to form on her lips.
By this, he finally attempted to sit up from his compromising position, but was then halted by the small, almost inaudible whisper from Hermione's lips.
"Harry…"
He remained still, cautious of any more movement that may wake her up.
"Oh Harry…"
The small moan that escaped her lips made his eyes widen. He dared not to imagine what was going on in her subconscious at that point. If he dared to, it might lead to him doing something drastic, which he certainly didn't want.
Yet somehow, the mere thought of their bodies entangled within each other made his mind clear out of all possible thoughts…
He slapped himself mentally. The thought brought him into a state of perversion. Shaking his head slightly, trying to brush out every single thought related to Hermione's small moans, he turned his head slightly to look at her. By the sight of her, his heart warmed deeply. It had actually shocked him on how much they have gone through the past few days, even amidst being strangers, up to their immediate friendship. Involuntarily, he felt himself brush a stray strand of hair from her face, leaving it bare for him to see.
She was so beautiful, it entranced him and left him speechless.
His eyes remained firm on her, traveling from her forehead, to the freckles by her nose, down to her plump lips that remained slightly parted as she slept. Harry suddenly had the urge to kiss them, and to brush his own against it and feel her moan through her swollen lips. He blinked a few times to vanish the small fantasy. Instead, he traced it lightly with his thumb, feeling her lips brush smoothly against his skin. He gulped down deeply, feeling the familiar clenching in his stomach once again.
It was then that he brushed his palm softly against the length of her arm, tracing each and every inch of it, down to the very last finger that lay softly by his stomach. It somehow pleased him to see the small goosebumps rise on her skin. She shifted on his arm once again, and Harry had inwardly prayed that she wouldn't face the other direction.
His prayers were answered immediately.
Her hands snaked back up to his chest, yet her face inched closer and closer to his. Harry looked at her, his face so near to hers, as he shifted his whole body to face her. Her hands fell lightly onto the carpet, and somehow, he had missed the feel of her hand against his skin. Finally, her eyes started to flutter open. Slowly, she was greeted by a tantalizing pair of green eyes.
Somehow lost in a daze, Hermione stared at him breathlessly. Even amidst her droopy daze, she was still quite aware of the current situation she was in.
She held her breath. An inch more, and their foreheads could touch. Harry was looking at her intently, somehow courageously, just as she did the same to him. She tried to say something, yet she seemed incapable of doing so as she felt her own voice abandon her. Her lips remained parted as she lay there, almost speechless at their display of intimacy.
"Hermione, I…" Harry licked his lips slowly, somehow making Hermione's heart palpitate beneath her chest. His voice was incredibly husky that it took her some time to recover from the heat that suddenly surged through her.
"I just…" He continued. Somehow, at the same time, both of them sat up slowly, their eyes still heavily gazing at each other. A sleeve of Hermione's dress fell slightly from her shoulder, revealing that bare skin that traced all the way up to her neck.
Harry gulped.
Their bodies were so close that it somehow excited both of them. Hermione could feel the shoots of anticipation all over her body, and somehow, she knew that Harry felt it too.
Slowly, their faces inched closer to each other, even amidst Hermione's subconscious debate with herself. She felt her heart pumping through her ears, and it slightly deafened her. She felt her palms grasp tightly onto the carpet as it shook slightly.
The images from her previous dream made her even more anxious than she already was.
Neither of them spoke, afraid to ruin the moment they both shared. They feared that even the smallest sound, even as infinitesimal as a pencil dropping, could ruin it.
Their closeness was incomparable, having them feel each other's breaths brush against their cheeks. Slowly, Harry's lips brushed against hers slightly. The mere contact made Hermione's mind go blank. Their lips still weren't in full contact, and Hermione suddenly felt restless by the mere tease of Harry's lips against hers.
Harry felt her growing need, and finally took initiative.
With as much courage, he pushed him lips forward-
Hermione sighed.
He found himself swearing inwardly to himself, and with much coherency, as his lips landed onto her cheeks by the insistent knocking on the door. His eyes shut close in embarrassment.
"Bloody Hell." He whispered to himself. He stood up, his face in a full frown as he approached the door. Hermione's face was downcast, her eyes shut closed as well by the sudden feeling of disappointment.
Harry opened the door slowly, all the while aware of how he would seem to the person behind the door if they saw the frown on his face.
"What-" He was cut off.
"Sorry to bother you, Harry. I need a place to stay. Would it be all right if I crash here first?" He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
"Ginny?"
---thepianist---
"I didn't want to intrude or anything. It's just been such a long day for me." Ginny voluntarily carried her luggage into the house, before dropping it audibly on the floor. It caused a small series of echoes through the ceiling.
"Oh, not at all…I guess." Harry stated, his face forming into a frown as Ginny made her way towards the kitchen. He followed after her slowly, making sure to cast a sideway glance at Hermione, who looked just as confused as he was.
Upon entering, Ginny was already seated by the counter, holding a beer bottle within her palms.
"Ruddy bastard. Can't even get his head straight for one whole minute! He's like a child that needs a nanny! Honestly!" She exclaimed in between sips. Harry leaned by the wall, obviously uninterested in her rant.
"Look Ginny. I don't mean to sound rude but, why the hell are you here?" Ginny stopped midway in her drinking, obviously pulsed by Harry's sudden question.
"Am I not welcome here or something?" Ginny asked in a worried tone. Harry looked at her with a straight face, obviously unsure on what to answer her.
"It's not that. I mean, one day I'm punching your best mate, the next you're here asking for a place to stay." Harry took the seat next to her, his hands placed firmly on the counter. Ginny stared blankly ahead of her, the beer bottle twirling softly within her fingertips.
"I apologize, really. It's just-ever since you brought up Seamus' past, it's all he ruddy talks about. He's like a walking guilt-stick! He's been sulking and whining, and it's irritating the wits out of me!" Her last sentence echoed through the small walls of the kitchen.
"I'm sorry…?"
"Nah, It's not your fault. The git brought himself into this mess. I mean, he was the one so eager to visit you that day. 'Dunno what in blazes got into him, but he looked pretty confused before we arrived here that day." She took another sip from her bottle, and with a soft pop of her lips, she spoke again.
"Although don't get offended by what I'm going to say next, but you never really gave him a chance to talk." She looked at Harry with an honest frown. Harry sighed beside her, his face looking down onto the floor.
"You're right, I didn't. But he still didn't have the right to say those things to me."
"Ah hell, but it's all over now. Besides, he needs as much space as he can get. And being his best mate, I should be the first to give that to him." She glanced sideways at him, only to find him staring back at her with an expressionless face. Somehow, she couldn't hold the blush that started to form by her cheeks.
"You're doing a wonderful thing for him, Ginny. I really commend you on that." A small smile formed on his lips, making her blush even more.
"Thanks, I guess." She said finally, before looking straight once again. Harry looked at her with an intense look of confusion. Something about her interested him, and it piqued his curiosity.
"So, anyway. You're free to stay here. We have an extra guest room upstairs." Ginny suddenly looked worried.
"We?" She questioned. Harry opened his mouth to answer, but was halted midway as Hermione entered the kitchen. She was wearing a small smile on her lips, with her hair tied neatly in a bun by her nape. Ginny eyed her suspiciously, somehow skeptically, before throwing Harry a questioning look.
"Oh-Ginny, this is-" Hermione took the initiative and extended her hand out to her.
"I'm Hermione." Ginny stared at her hand for a few moments before nodding her head in reply.
"Ginny. Hi." Hermione retreated her hand, which was hanging idly in midair. She tried to hide her agitation towards Ginny's apparent rudeness. The two girls stared at each other in silence, both of their faces expressionless. Harry, noticing the sudden awkwardness, suddenly spoke.
"So anyway, should I carry your luggage upstairs?" He asked Ginny, who then looked at him with a frown.
"I didn't know you had company. Are you sure I'm not intruding on you two or something? I mean…" She cast a knowing glance to Hermione, which made both Harry and she blush furiously.
"Oh, no. Hermione's a…friend." Somehow, his statement made her heart drop down to the floor. Amidst that, she tried to nod in agreement with him.
"Yeah. I just needed a place to stay too so Harry offered me to stay as well." She explained. Ginny looked at her skeptically at first, before nodding as she stood up to get her luggage.
"So, where to?" She asked.
"Right upstairs. Follow me." Harry said as he stood up, purposely brushing past Hermione as he exited. His fingers brushed against her arm, and she tried so hard to stand still. Inwardly, she felt her knees start to buckle beneath her. She looked back slightly, only to find him side by side with Ginny as they rushed upstairs. The familiar scent of his perfume still lingered by her side, and it intoxicated her to no end.
Suddenly feeling lonely, she walked back to the couch, her back slouching as she tried to hold back the look of confusion that threatened to play on her face. She pondered greatly on what this all meant- having known that the events that happened earlier weren't just an accident. Harry had obviously, really intended to kiss her.
It gave her chills just thinking about it.
Her heart palpitated beneath her chest at the mere imagery of the past events. It was such a gorgeous moment, that she resented Ginny for ruining it. Suddenly, her face frowned.
The nerve of that girl! she huffed to herself. The rudeness she displayed moments ago was unacceptable. And to think that she actually had the nerve to volunteer herself to stay here. Bloody prat! she thought begrudgingly. She had seen the way she looked at him earlier. If she was not mistaken, she was actually flirting with him.
I refuse to be jealous of that insensitive woman! She exclaimed inwardly, her hands now clutching onto the throw pillows tightly in aggravation. But then, that same thought brought her into a moment of realization.
I'm actually jealous! She pondered. The thought of actually being jealous of Ginny was, even to her, absurd. What was she jealous about? This question rang in her head repetitively. Maybe, she thought, it was the way she scooted herself closer to Harry upon saying her thanks. Or maybe it was the way she threw herself at Harry…
But she didn't even do such a thing! It was a mere conversation between two acquaintances! Ruddy hell, I'm jealous about a small, stupid conversation? She thought incredulously. But then, she couldn't really blame herself. Who could, honestly? She had just experienced the most intimate moment with Harry earlier, that she had almost combusted right on the spot. Who could blame her for suddenly being too protective?
She'd known him for a fair amount of time, and their immediate friendship was something she did not regret at all. She would be damned if she didn't go to The Old Stallion that fateful night. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have met him. She wouldn't have known him.
And with a small pang as she thought of this, she wouldn't have been in this mess.
She felt utterly stupid for actually thinking of it, but it was somehow true.
As she stared at the ashen fireplace, she had imagined her life without Harry. She imagined a life where she had never met him, and where she had never befriended him. Upon this thought, all she saw was her own misery.
Closing her eyes slightly, she sighed.
She could not deny, however, that she had wished that life were normal once again for her, and possibly, for Harry as well. The mere thought of his whole life as a struggle pained her deeply and made her eyes sparkle with tears. Maybe that's why she was there.
She was his savior.
And he was hers.
"We really do need each other more than we think."
---thepianist---
Peter Pettigrew sat impatiently on the wooden rocking chair, his eyes slightly droopy as the moon started to rise. Riddle had been on the phone for the past hour, talking non-stop to someone that was beyond Peter's knowledge. He spoke in a low tone, almost inaudible for Peter to hear, and his face was expressionless.
"Hey Riddle, My time is the last thing you'd want to waste!" He exclaimed. Riddle cast him a small glance before turning back to his conversation. By the far end, Draco waited patiently by the door, both his hands firmly by his back.
"Hey boy!" He called out to him. Draco paid no attention to him.
"Hey boy! I'm talking to you!" He shouted louder. Still, he was remained unnoticed. Out of irritation, Peter finally stood up.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you, you bloody son of a b-" he was silenced as Draco pulled out a pistol and directed it straight at his forehead. By the far end, Peter saw a small grin form on Riddle's lips.
"W-What do you think you're doing!" He stuttered. Draco smirked.
"I can pull this trigger right now and blow the brains out of your bloody head, but out of respect, I won't."
"Are you threatening me?" Peter screamed incredulously. Draco seemed non-pulsed.
"Yes, you idiot. Now sit down and wait for the General to finish. If you wish to do otherwise, consider yourself dead." Draco glowered at him, the gun still firmly placed in front of Peter's face. With a deep scowl, Peter retreated back to his seat, muttering silently under his breath. Draco retreated the gun as well, hiding it once again by his back pocket.
Minutes passed, and Riddle was still in the middle of his heated conversation. Peter tapped his shoe impatiently onto the hardwood floors, earning a glare from Draco. He stopped immediately, threatened by the smirk that played on his lips.
"Peter." His head snapped up, only to find Riddle facing him at last.
"Finally. Who were you talking to anyway?"
"Just a friend. I've brought you some good news, and some bad news." Riddle said, taking a seat across from him. Peter looked at him expectantly with eyes of curiosity.
"Go on."
"The good news is, my friend knows someone who can track down Potter's whereabouts." Peter's face lightened up.
"Fantastic!"
"Well, the bad news is, your little friends at Germany have just arrived in Britain." By this statement, Peter's face had paled.
"…You're bloody serious?"
"Yes. And they've got some weapons to prove their point."
---thepianist---
A/N: It's been a bloody two weeks, and I can honestly say that I tried my best to update. But it seems as though my inspiration only arrived recently. For that, I terribly apologize- not just for the lateness of this update, but for the tease I gave you at the first part. Amidst that, I hope some points of this chapter didn't disappoint all of you. (: