Heart's Content by gti88

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 10/03/2008
Last Updated: 10/03/2008
Status: Completed

Hermione still looked murderous. Exasperated, I grabbed her by the hand, and dragged her by the
hand up the stairs, back to our dormitory. I didn’t speak a word to her, until the door was closed
behind me, and I charmed the chamber for complete privacy.




1. Heart's Content
------------------



**A/N: Just an intermittent H/Hr fic in response to a challenge...I claim the plot, with the
exception of the first and last sentences…enjoy!**

**Heart's Content**

I closed my eyes against the small amount of sunlight that managed to peak through my curtains,
when I felt something move beside me. Turning over, my eyes settled on the form of Crookshanks,
stretching out beside me. Hermione's kneazle had taken a liking to me for some unfathomable
reason, and had developed a habit to sleep every night in my bed. Though that could also be due to
Hermione's own withdrawal and snappishness towards others lately…

Her new attitude intrigued me to no end. While brushing my hair, I kept perusing the possible
reasons: a boy she had fallen for? Or perhaps she was way too frustrated, in her unhealthy
obsession with books, at a spell she couldn't master…I laughed quietly at the last thought.

I had reached the first conclusion, actually. I was a girl, so I should know - our gender did
not become sulky and withdrawn without a reason, and romance was the probable culprit. All that
remained now, was to figure out which one of Hogwarts' many eligible bachelors Hermione had
fallen for…

I made my way down to the Gryffindor common room, determined to confront my best friend about
the matter. Crookshanks darted ahead of me down the stairs, evidently in search of his
mistress.

The search didn't take too long. It was still early on Saturday morning, and I saw Hermione
lying asleep on the couch. A book lay open across her chest, and there was a quill clutched in her
right hand. Judging by her deep breathing, I figured she had stayed up late, writing in the darned
book…

Writing in her book? Well, that was a diary, of course, I reminded myself. Why else would
Hermione devote such attention to it, as to deprive herself of sleep for the cause? My curiosity
peaked, I advanced forth to take a small peek at the words Hermione had written…after all, I was
her best friend, and her concerns meant I had to do everything in my power to help her resolve
them.

Carefully, I removed Hermione's free hand from atop her diary, and slid it out of her hold
as stealthily as I could. Then I plopped myself in the nearest plush chair, and flipped back a few
pages, before beginning to read.

*December 19,*

*I can barely stand it. The blissful immersion that my studies afford me from the
confrontations of reality is no longer available. Even while I'm doing my Arithmacy homework,
he permeates my thoughts. I try to persuade myself to forget about him, but I might as well tell it
to my window, because it's not going to happen. These words, which I currently write, offer me
the only respite from this. How could I possibly become so entwined with Harry? It's never
happened before, and it seems to be dominating my life recently, so far as to literally be hostile
to my closest friends, in the attempt to find solace from thinking about him.*

*I mean, I've been attracted to him for a long while, but I've managed to mask my
feelings for him successfully, until quite recently. I don't understand it…dare I say it,
I've irreversibly fallen in love with Harry, hard and fast…I usually have all the answers, but
right now, I am about as confused as I can be…*

My chin had dropped in amazement. Harry? She had considered the possibility before, certainly,
but never seriously enough…but now, she had confirmation of it, black on white. She skimmed over
the next few pages, reading the entries, which ended with yesterday's date. Hermione quite
clearly indicated her growing desperation with the affairs of the heart, and the increasing
indecision she felt because of it.

Hermione, I sighed inwardly, what am I going to do with you? I know how determined she can be,
and unless I confront her with the diary, she will deny this anytime I bring it up.

My thoughts came to an abrupt halt, when I suddenly saw Hermione stirring awake. Thinking
quickly, I tried to come up with a way to conceal my trespass of her privacy, but the other half of
my brain told me it was already too late. So I jumped to my feet, donned on my apologetic
expression, and prepared to let forth a stream of “sorry!” and “I didn't mean to, honest!”

Hermione sat up on the couch, and Crookshanks shot into her lap. That should buy me valuable
time, I thought, but inexplicably, I remained rooted to the spot. Had my feet been transformed to
lead all of the sudden? My entire internal deliberations, willing Hermione not to notice me,
completely failed. She set the kneazle on the couch next to her, and noticed me standing there,
awkwardly, clutching her precious diary tightly in my hands. Her expression turned from delight, to
amazement, and then to outrage, as she caught on to what I had done.

“Ginny!” she sprang up to her feet, and seeing that, the feeling suddenly returned to my own
legs.

I stepped back a few times, hoping that Hermione could see I was sorry for my crime. “Hermione!”
I said in a falsely cheery voice. “Beautiful morning isn't it!”

What? It was a beautiful morning…the sun was out for the first in weeks, and the light reflected
brilliantly from the snow, and into the azure sky.

“Ginny,” Hermione's voice was deadly quiet, and a dark pout had clouded her countenance.
“What is *my* diary doing in *your* hands?”

Oh yes, she was mad. Hang on, make that *really* mad.

“Well,” I mumbled, still backing away from the slowly progressing Hermione, “funny story
actually…”

“Does it seem funny to you, Ginny?” my best friend's face had turned red with the rage.

“N-no,” I replied meekly.

“So?” it was the same expectant, cold tone, and it finally collapsed my determination to hold
out and face down her fierce gaze.

“You were sleeping and it was propped open and I took it and read it,” I explained myself very
rapidly. For some reason, I was still holding on tightly to the leather-bounded book.

“*You read it*!” Hermione shouted. “Ginny!”

“I'm sorry!” I nearly screamed back. “It was an accident!”

“An accident?” she was incredulous. “What do you mean, an accident!”

I was about to shout back a response, to tell Hermione what I had read, but thankfully, I
checked myself just in time; Harry came down the stairs, followed by Ron, and he looked at us,
silently enquiring about the commotion.

“What's going on?” he asked curiously. “We heard shouting upstairs.”

Hermione froze, looking at me with wide, angry eyes, that promised me a slow, painful death, if
I revealed anything I had read.

“Oh, nothing,” I invented wildly, smiling widely all the while, “can't two friends have an
argument on a Saturday morning?”

Harry looked at me oddly, but a second later seemed to dismiss it. “If you say so. We're
going to the Great Hall for breakfast, if you're coming down soon.”

On the way out of the portrait hole, I heard him saying to Ron that he would never understand
girls…but what can I say, we didn't understand ourselves half the time!

Hermione still looked murderous. Exasperated, I grabbed her by the hand, and dragged her by the
hand up the stairs, back to our dormitory. I didn't speak a word to her, until the door was
closed behind me, and I charmed the chamber for complete privacy.

“All right, Granger,” I sat Hermione down on the bed and looked at her sternly. “What do you
have to tell me?”

Alas, Hermione's mouth was shut tight, and her eyes bore in mine contemptuously.

“Why would I have something to say to you?” she snapped. “You betrayed me.”

“Betrayed you!” I was incredulous. “When and how?!”

Hermione laughed mirthlessly. “Don't play dumb with me, Ginny. You know I'm much smarter
than you.”

All right, so I deserved that jab. Still, I had an ominous feeling that not all of
Hermione's pent up frustration was released yet…hah, frustration…my corrupted mind wandered at
the possible implications of that word…

“Listen, Hermione, I'm really sorry,” I repented for the consecutive time. “I was just
worried about you, and you seem distant as of late…”

“That's not true,” Hermione said quickly, silently admonishing me to believe her.

“Yes, it is,” I countered with the slightest hint of annoyance in my voice. “You wrote it, for
Merlin's sake!”

“It's none of your business what I write,” Hermione still retained her snappish tone. “You
had no right to interrupt my privacy.”

“Point taken, Professor,” I ventured to make fun of my best friend to ease the tension slightly.
“But what's done is done.”

“That's all you have to say,” Hermione raised her voice once more. “What's done is
done?”

So much for the humour approach, I thought sourly, and reversed to my apologetic attitude.

“Look,” I tried to reason, “I said I was sorry, and there, I say it again! I'm sorry! But
blaming me won't help your situation.”

“My life is completely under control, thank you very much.” Great, she was still miffed at
me.

“Oh yeah,” I countered as casually as I could. “Especially those dreams that go on for pages -
“

“Argh!” Hermione bolted up in surprise. “How -“

“Calm down, Hermione,” I almost laughed. “Your secret is safe with me. Harry will never hear it
from my lips.”

“Ginny, I promise you, you breathe a word to anyone, I will kill you.”

Yes, I could tell she was not kidding.

“Just as I said before, you could threaten me all you want, but it doesn't help you, nor
Harry,” I stated one more time, my annoyance with Hermione making itself more prominent. Here I
was, hoping she would not fly into another fit of anger.

To my surprise, Hermione collapsed back down on the bed, and covered her face with her hands. A
sob escaped her, and I could see her determination to keep her feelings harboured, was
breaking.

“Ginny,” she whispered to me in a quavering voice, looking up through teary eyes, “I don't
know what to do…help me, please.”

“Thought you'd never ask,” I said brightly, and sat next to her, embracing her in a friendly
hug. “Leave it to me, Hermione. I'll think of a way to make you and Harry come together as more
than friends.”

“No, you needn't do that, Ginny,” Hermione told me a little stronger, “I only need someone I
can talk to about this - “

“And help you resolve it,” I finished for her. “There's no point denying it, Hermione.
You're falling head over heels for the boy, and it's about time you acted on it.”

“Why do I have the feeling this will go horribly wrong?” she asked me seriously.

“Because that's what love is,” I answered expertly. “It's about taking a chance.”

The ashen look on her face told me she was feeling her chances weren't too good at he
moment.

**

I persuaded Hermione to come down to the Great Hall with me, to join Harry and my git of a
brother, Ron, for breakfast. Even if there was still palpable tension between us, I was glad we
were at least on speaking terms.

Harry and Ron were sitting at the Gryffindor table, seemingly talking about something serious
amongst them. Hermione and I progressed swiftly up the table, and joined them.

“Hi, again,” I put on my cheery voice, looking to alleviate the awkwardness as much as I could.
“Enjoying your toast?”

“It's good,” Ron said simply, eyeing me rather oddly too.

“Is everything alright?” Harry asked in concern. “Hermione, you were pretty angry this
morning.”

The girl in question nearly choked on her juice, when Harry said that. My quick thinking saved
us all, because I clapped Hermione on the back, and she soon gasped a deep breath.

“Sorry, sorry,” she apologized quickly, red all over.

“You scared me half to death!” I declared loudly, and gave her a hug, just to make sure she was
still alive and breathing.

“Blimey, Hermione, don't do that again!” Ron voiced his own opinion with wide, fearful
eyes.

“Are you okay?” I saw Harry almost instinctively place his hand on Hermione's, as he
stretched across the table to check on her.

“I'm fine, Harry, I'm fine,” she managed to respond more calmly, when she had regained
her breathing rhythm. “Thank you.”

“For an insensitive git, even I can tell something is not right here,” Ron observed into the
silence, after we had resumed eating, and the surrounding attention had subsided.

“Err…why?” Hermione cautiously asked Ron.

“Because,” Harry put in forcefully before Ron could speak up, “you don't usually almost
choke to death when I ask you a question.”

“Lay off her, will you!” I piped up. “Hermione's just been under a lot of stress from
schoolwork lately. She needs time to relax. Can't you two dunderheads figure that out!”

“Thanks, Ginny,” I heard her whisper quietly in my direction.

“We're just concerned, is all,” Harry explained weakly, clearly startled by my outburst.
“We're her best friends too, you know.”

“And that's very touching of you, Harry,” I quelled him quickly, “but right now, Hermione
needs me, and also some time to herself.”

“Okay, we'll back off then,” Ron agreed. “There's no need to be so forceful about
it.”

With that, Hermione and I said our goodbyes, and departed from the Great Hall. Unfortunately,
from the corner of my eye I caught Harry's expression, and he did not look wholly
convinced.

**

It took me the rest of Saturday, but I successfully managed to set my designs in motion. Had my
calculations been right, and they usually are, Hermione was going to be freed from her weighing
secret, and with a bit of luck, Harry would be the potential recipient of her affection.

I just had to congratulate myself on my brilliance. Convincing Hermione to meet me under the old
birch tree by the lake in a few hours was perhaps the easiest of my tasks. She agreed to do it, and
as I asked on her way to class, so she had little time to think about it and refuse.

Harry was a bit more difficult to crack. Coming up with an excuse to make him to the same spot
was not easy, because he looked at me skeptically, every time I tried to provide a legitimate
reason. In the end, though, he agreed, and I told him to be by the lake at precisely the same
time.

All I had to do now was sit back and enjoy what I had arranged.

Whiling away the hours between my dormitory and the Common room, I played a couple of games of
Exploding Snap with Fred and George, and when the time came, I snuck out ahead of Harry and
Hermione, and concealing my tracks, I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, to hide behind the
birch.

My expectations were not disappointed, as I noticed after about ten minutes in the cold.
Shivering, I noticed with a smile, as Hermoine came, looked around, and remained expectant, still
glancing about her.

Not a few minutes passed, and Harry approached. Hermione gave a gasp of surprise, when she saw
him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in confusion; being the evil schemer that I was, I
snickered from my hiding spot.

“Ginny told me to come here,” Harry replied. “Why are you here then?”

“She told me the exactly the same,” Hermione said, her voice trailing. “Do you know where she
is?”

“No, I haven't seen her recently…have you seen her anywhere?”

“Nuh-uh,” she shook her head.

A silence fell over the two, as they waited for Ginny to come. The minutes soon turned into a
half hour, and there was still no trace of her.

“”I think we should go back,” Hermione offered. “Before we freeze.”

Harry was on the verge of agreeing, when something stopped him.

“Hermione,” he said, “can I talk to you for a second? Here?”

She hesitated, but nodded her agreement. “What do you want to talk about?”

“About you, really,” Harry said quietly, as the snow began to fall more heavily around them.
“How have you been?”

“I've been great. Why?” Hermione answered, somewhat defensively.

“I know something's eating you, Hermione,” Harry explained. “Please, tell me.”

I watched, absorbed with interest.

Hermione sighed, and looked down. “Harry, it's really nothing.”

“Hermione,” he whispered, coming up to her, and grabbing her by the shoulders. “Tell me.”

She looked up, and it was that moment, which I still recall vividly. The snow was falling
quietly around them, and the passion, the desire, with which she looked into his eyes - it
surprised me even. I had no idea she felt so strongly about him. Over the wind, I could hear her
breath quicken. Somehow, I could feel her becoming ensnared by him, and vice versa…

No words were exchanged between them. Her eyes were a sea of emotion, which he could happily
drown into. What caused it? What did it mean? He didn't know…but slowly leaning in, his lips
met hers…a palpable kiss, at first, timid, careful…then slowly, but surely, it intensified, became
more confident, powerful…I watched them, mesmerized, sharing a kiss in the snow, thinking to myself
I had seen nothing more beautiful prior to this…

“Harry,” Hermione whispered hoarsely, when they parted. “I think I have to tell you this…”

He looked at her intensely; willing himself to believe this wasn't a dream.

“I love you,” Hermione admitted quietly. “I always have.”

“I know, Hermione,” Harry replied, and in the next second, wondering how exactly he knew. “I
love you too.”

They embraced, sharing another kiss. I was lost, trying to decipher how they had managed to
admit their feelings towards one another, literally from nothing. What happened between them? I
think Hermione finally couldn't hold it in, and the sight of Harry, standing there, inches from
her, finally pushed her over the top…thanks to moi, might I add smugly.

Smiling inwardly, I quietly disengaged myself from behind the tree, and made my way back to the
castle through a roundabout way, feeling very happy for my best friend.

What can I say? I suppose I have a talent…the next day, Harry and I were talking, and he asked
me about last night. Pausing for effect, I relayed my brilliant plan to Harry, whose incredulity
only increased as I spoke. He started to question me, just as I intended to leave, but I
wouldn't have it. Hermione had taken a turn for the better after she and Harry had become an
item, and I did not want Harry to delve further in my methods. So, I turned to face him one last
time before I walked through the door, and I couldn't resist smiling at the look of shock upon
his face.

Fin.

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