Surprises
Author notes: First, thanks for the reviews. They really keep me going. Writing seems to get harder and harder with every new chapter, so I welcome any and all critiques/advice/ compliments. Keep in mind that I'm uploading two chapters at once. Chapter 9 will be up immediately after this shorter one is. Strange? Yes. But it's my vision and I pretty much do what I want, when I want.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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Hermione's eyes opened wide when she felt Harry's mouth press against hers. She immediately pulled back with a surprised gasp.
"Harry…?" Hermione's breathy whisper was cut off as Harry captured her mouth again. She sighed as a delicious shudder ran through her body. She couldn't help it. The feel of his lips was incredible; supple, aching, moist, warm, perfect. His lips slowly opened against hers and the feel of him tenderly stoking her mouth sent a toe-curling trill down her spine.
She melted against him, gripping his lapel and gasping as she breathlessly returned his kisses. Her eyes closed as she lost herself to Harry's caresses. His soft mouth gently explored hers; his strong hands tickled the back of her neck; his faint noises made her heart flutter. She knew they shouldn't be doing this. It was unbelievably irresponsible, but she couldn't stop to save her life. She wanted more. More touching, more tasting. Just more.
Harry's lips continued to move against hers, and Hermione gave a needy moan that offered encouragement to him. He pulled her into his lap, pressing his mouth more firmly against hers as he cradled her.
She returned the kiss ardently, surrendering to the urgent pulse that now had her enraptured. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her hands tangled in his hair. She could feel Harry's lips working their way down her throat and fastening onto her neck as he planted feathery kisses on every inch of exposed skin. Burying her hands in his hair, muttering his name and guiding his kisses along her collar, Hermione's only coherent thought was that she never wanted him to stop.
"Hermione," he said softly, brushing her cheek with his fingertips.
"Hmmm?" Hermione murmured. "What…Harry?" she asked, her breath catching in her throat. She opened her eyes and found herself looking up into his endlessly green ones.
"Marry me Hermione," he whispered.
"What? Marry…um…" she managed to stammer. She swallowed and tried to form whole words. "You want to marry me?"
"Yes, I do," Harry said with a gruff voice full of emotion. "Very much so." His mouth closed over hers once again, and she was lost as his lips coaxed hers into a slow dance. Hermione fought to control herself, finding it harder and harder as he teased and nipped and ran his hands roughly along her sides.
"Harry, we…" Hermione pushed him back so she could see his face. "Are you serious? You really want to marry me?"
Harry softly touched her face. "I'm in love with you," he replied simply. His eyes shone tenderly as he stroked her cheek.
He lowered his face to hers, intending to give her a thorough kiss, but she pulled away and sat at the other end of the couch. However much it pained her, if she was going to have a sensible conversation with him, she had to put some distance between his lips and hers. Though she tried to appear calm, her heavily flushed face and hiccupping gasps betrayed any semblance of composure.
"Were you in love with me when you went to London?" she asked unevenly, determined to understand exactly how Harry felt for her.
"Yes," Harry admitted, "I left because of you. Because I love you." His hand came to rest on her shoulder, "And I came back for same reason."
Hermione uncertainly eyed his hand on her shoulder. The fact that Harry went to London because of his feelings for her somewhat substantiated Viktor's account of it. Hermione wondered if what Viktor said about Harry's involvement in separating Ron and Luna was also true.
Oh shut up brain, she grumbled as she studied the man sitting across from her.
Although part of her desperately wanted Harry to simply silence her suspicions with another slow, deep, wonderful kiss… another part (the more sensible-sober-frustratingly-Hermione part) needed to know the truth. She swallowed hard and set her jaw, determined to find out.
"What about Ron?" Hermione asked directly.
"No. I'm not in love with Ron, Hermione," Harry said with a half-grin.
"But why take him with you to London?" she asked slowly. "The Weasleys left with you."
Harry studied her but didn't answer.
"He had nothing to do with me. So why force him to go too?" Hermione persisted.
Harry still didn't answer.
"You wanted to separate him from Luna," she said dejectedly, now sure of it.
Harry released her and looked at her sternly. Hermione often received that look from the schoolmaster when she was being too clever for her own good.
"Hermione, I didn't 'take' Ron with me. There were no chains or lockboxes involved."
"He only left because you convinced him that Luna's family connections would humiliate him," Hermione said, exasperated with the hypocrisy of it.
"I convinced him of nothing of the sort. He simply asked if I thought your sister felt favorably towards him."
"And?" Hermione urged.
"And I said no."
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Any particular reason why?" she asked through gritted teeth.
Harry shrugged. "I saw them together, and Luna always appeared disinterested and distant."
"That's because you don't know her!" Hermione angrily protested as she stood up and paced around the room "Even I have difficulty understanding what she's really feeling." Arrogant assuming bastard, she thought. And now poor Luna's suffering for it…"There's not a sweeter or more selfless girl in the whole of England Harry, and now her heart's broken." Hermione shook her head. "Doesn't that bother you? Doesn't that affect you in any way?"
Harry paused to think about this, and Hermione looked around for a blunt object to throw at him.
"My opinion about their friendship had nothing to do with my feelings about Luna or about your family. It was just my honest and indifferent opinion."
"Indifferent?" Hermione laughed harshly. "Very indifferent I'm sure. If she had a dowry and a title, perhaps you wouldn't have felt so indifferent about it."
"That didn't stop me from feeling this way about you," Harry pointed out gently. He rose from the couch and took a step towards her.
"But Harry," she was frustrated as she took a step back, "how do you know what your feelings are towards me. You say that you love me and yet I feel like I know nothing about you."
Harry didn't answer. All the tenderness drained from his expression, and his new (but familiar) coldness gave Hermione cause to go on.
"Harry, it's as though there are two sides to you, and one part is selfish and disagreeable while another part…"
"Is that what Viktor Krum's been telling you?" Harry snapped angrily, interrupting her.
"I'm sorry?" Hermione asked, slightly insulted.
Harry narrowed his eyes and repeated his question more slowly: "Is. That. What. Krum. Told. You." His eyes darkened as he spat out Krum's name.
"I didn't need Viktor Krum to tell me you're a disagreeable prat. I found that out for myself." Hermione's patience waned with his accusatory tone. "And how do you even know about Viktor?"
"Oh, it's just 'Viktor' now is it?" Harry's voice was laced with derision. "I saw you and that blasted fool in town today."
"He wasn't the only blasted fool in town today," Hermione replied archly.
"Well that's fairly obvious." Harry's voice grew louder as he returned her angry stare.
"This has nothing to do with Viktor Krum. This is about marrying a man I know nothing about!" Hermione's volume now matched his.
"Shall I ask Krum if you've made it a habit of kissing men you know nothing about," Harry bellowed at her.
Harry felt a sudden slap and a silence descended on the room. It happened so quickly he wasn't sure if he'd just imagined it. He looked into Hermione's wide-watery eyes, saw her hand rise, and felt the same smart sting on his face a second time.
Harry lifted his hand to his cheek, rubbing the sharp pain there.
"Get out," she said, not bothering to wipe the tears off her face.
Staring at her with an unreadable expression, Harry nodded. Without a word and without looking back, Harry grabbed his cloak and stormed down the hallway towards the front door.
As the door slammed shut, Hermione sank down onto the sofa. Whatever warmth she'd felt by the fireplace soon faded. She covered her face with her hands and tried to hold back the sobs that were rising in her throat. But one sob escaped. Then another. And another. In no time she was lying on the sofa, crying bitterly. She had never been so ashamed with herself, but ashamed she was. Ashamed that she had been so utterly compromised by a man and ashamed that she wanted nothing more than to crawl back into Harry's arms and lose herself in his embrace.