Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize; if you don't recognize something, I made it up. Any similarities are purely coincidental; the only thing I get from writing is satisfaction. The title is taken from a song by 3 of Hearts, from the movie Where the Heart Is, the refrain inspiring the plot a bit.
Chapter 2
Harry awoke to what sounded like a door closing softly. Thinking Hermione had gotten up to go to the bathroom, he turned his head to look at the time. The muggle clock read 1:30, while the wizard clock was pointing to `get out of bed, you lazy-head'. He tried to get up, but was prevented by the weight of Hermione on his chest.
`Hmm,' he thought. `Must've just imagined the noise.'
Harry took the opportunity to study Hermione's features and contemplate what had occurred to elicit such emotions from her and such a reaction from Ron. He couldn't figure it out, but knew she would tell him when she was ready.
Not wanting to wake Hermione, but knowing how upset she'd be for napping so long, Harry decided to try to wake her, if only to find out how long she wanted to sleep.
"Hermione," he called lightly. "Time to wake up, kiddo."
When she didn't budge, he called her name a little louder. "Hermione."
Seeing that more drastic measures would need to be taken, he began to run his fingers down her arm. "Hermione," he drawled.
All she did was stir slightly and sigh, so Harry took matters into his own hands and grinned maniacally. He noticed she has some skin showing at her hip, her most ticklish spot, and began to stroke the area lightly with his fingernails. Hermione shifted more and emitted a soft groan. This made Harry grin even wider.
"Her-my-oh-knee!" he called in a sing-song voice. "Wakey-wakey, Hermione!"
Satisfied when she tried to cover her head, Harry called out again, in a louder, more obnoxious voice. "Wakey-wakey, Hermione!"
"What?" she asked groggily.
"Good morning, Sunshine!" Harry said. "It's 1:45. Time to get up."
"1:45?!" Hermione exclaimed, sitting up quickly. "Why did you let me sleep so late?" she accused.
"Because you needed it," Harry stated matter-of-factly. "And I just woke up as well."
"Oh, ok then," Hermione said guiltily.
"Silly Hermione," Harry said affectionately as he smiled at her. He still wanted to ask about what happened with Ron, but knew not to press matters.
"I am going to take a shower," he announced. "And I suggest you do the same, because you STINK!"
Hermione playfully swatted at her green-eyed best friend. "Not as much as you, Potter!" she called as he disappeared into the bathroom that separated his bedroom from hers.
When she heard the water turn on, Hermione thought of ways to get back at Harry. She gave up, after deciding that whatever she did, he'd retaliate ten times worse.
While waiting for Harry to get out, Hermione went through her drawers to pick something to wear. She finally opted for sweat pants and a t-shirt and pulled her hair into a messy bun.
"Hey, Harry," she called into the bathroom. "Do you want something to eat?"
"Sure. I'll take a sandwich," he answered back. "Thanks, Hermione!"
Hermione trotted downstairs, taking the empty mug with her, and went into the refrigerator to get lunchmeat, cheese and lettuce for the sandwiches. By the time Harry joined her, his raven hair still damp, there were two sandwiches and two glasses of water on the table. Hermione came into the kitchen from the hallway.
"Bout time," she teased. "I swear, you take longer than any girl I know."
Harry stuck his tongue out at her and she smirked in satisfaction. "I win."
The two sat and ate their sandwiches, followed by a few chocolate biscuits, to finish lunch.
"What've you got planned today?" Hermione asked. "Going to see Maddy?"
"Nah. She had to go out of town for an assignment this morning. She should be back next week sometime," he answered.
"So, how long has it been?" Hermione inquired.
"About three weeks, I think," Harry answered, blushing slightly.
"And…?" Hermione urged.
"And…I like her. I don't know how long it'll last, but I do like her," Harry admitted.
"Good. You deserve to be happy, Harry," Hermione declared.
"As do you, my friend. As do you," Harry answered meaningfully.
"Enough about me," Hermione said swiftly. "What are you up to today?"
"Oh yeah," Harry said. "Mike O'Leary and Ike Fitzgerald are having a party at their house tonight. The whole team will be there, so I kind of have to make an appearance." He looked at his best friend of eleven years. "Why don't you come with me? We can get dinner first, then go to Mike and Ike's for a little while. You'll finally get to meet everyone and I promise we won't stay long."
"I don't know," Hermione started. "I was going to try to talk to Ron…"she trailed off.
Harry positioned himself so he and Hermione were eye-to-eye. "Hermione," he began. "How long have you known one, Ron Weasley?"
"Eleven years," she answered, a bit uncertain.
"And how often have you seen him lose his temper?" Harry asked.
"Probably once or twice a month, without fail," she affirmed.
"So, that's roughly 264 times, give or take?" He waited until she nodded her head in agreement before continuing. "Out of these 264, how many times have you seen him get over it in one day, no matter how small or insignificant the incident?"
"Well, none actually," Hermione admitted bashfully. "But…"
"No buts," Harry said firmly. "By going to talk to him right now, things are going to get worse. And knowing you two, much worse," he finished with a grin.
"I guess you're right," Hermione said hesitantly. "So what time are you taking me to dinner?"
Harry grinned at his best friend; the grin that sent grown women swooning; the lazy grin that accentuated his features, especially his eyes; the grin that won Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile award more times than anyone has counted. And it's effect wasn't entirely lost on Hermione.
"Ok, Potter, I've already agreed to go with you to dinner and the party. You can put that away," she said, gesturing to the smile.
"I can't help it, Hermione. You just make me want to smile," he said frankly.
"Thanks," Hermione said, smiling her own beautiful smile that had gotten attention all it's own; even more so since her teeth had been magically fixed in their 4th year.
"Do you want to eat at a Muggle or Wizarding restaurant?" Harry asked.
"Hmm…let's try that new Wizarding Italian place around the corner. Try to get a reservation, since it is Saturday," Hermione answered. "Go in person if need be. It's supposed to be really good and very difficult to get in. Use that scar of yours for something good."
"Heh heh heh. You're a regular comedian. What time do you want to eat?" Harry said dryly.
"Mmm…try for two hours before you want to be at the party. I don't want to have to rush through dinner so you can get trashed with your new teammates and make an ass out of yourself," Hermione grinned wickedly.
"I'll have you know, Miss Granger," Harry began, with a smile. "That I don't need to get drunk to make can ass out of myself. I can do that completely sober."
"And I can definitely attest to that, Mr. Potter," Hermione said playfully.
"You hurt my feelings," Harry pouted. "I'm going to leave."
"Don't forget to make the reservation for two!" Hermione called after him.
"Oh, I won't. I'm sure I can find someone to go to Nicoli's with the Boy-Who-Lived," Harry said mischievously.
"Well, you probably could. But they'd have to fight me for it," Hermione shot back.
"Ooooh, a cat fight! I could charge admission," Harry said thoughtfully.
"I don't think so, Potter. Now get out of here," she answered, giving Harry a light shove toward the door.
"Fine," Harry mock whined. "I'm going to try for a 7:30 reservation. I'll come back right away if it's before then. I know it takes you forever to get ready," Harry smirked.
"Would you go already?" Hermione said exasperated.
Harry laughed and kissed Hermione on the forehead. "I won't be long. Love you."
"Love you too," Hermione smiled as Harry waved and shut the door behind him.
`That Harry' Hermione thought with a wry grin. `He's such a character.'
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