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 7
Hermione looked into the very startled emerald eyes of her best friend. She turned away quickly, but before she'd gotten very far, the owner of the eyes placed a hand on her arm. She shrugged it off and moved faster. Suddenly she felt fingers dig into her shoulder and use her momentum to turn her back around.
"Hermione," came Harry's voice.
"What?" she spat back, catching him off-guard.
"Are you ok?" he asked warily.
"Peachy-keen," she answered, determined not to let him know he was right about Aaron. "Just trying to find Aaron," she added with a fake smile.
"Oh," Harry said dejectedly. "I, um, can't help you there. I don't know where he's hiding."
`He should be under the rocks with the rest of the scum.' Hermione thought angrily. "Oh well, thanks anyway," she said aloud. She made a move to walk away but Harry blocked her path.
"Hermione," he began quietly. "What happened?"
"Nothing happened. I don't know what you're talking about," she insisted, refusing to look him in the face.
Harry placed his index finger under Hermione's chin to force her to look up at him. "Sweetie, you're my best friend and I've known you for a long time. I think I know when something's bothering you."
Hermione gathered all the courage she could muster at that time and looked him square in the eye. "Then I guess you don't know me very well." She took advantage of Harry's shock and hurried away, feeling even worse than before.
Hermione walked aimlessly around the party in a daze, not paying attention to where she was going; she kept running the conversations through her mind, picturing the look on Harry's face. "Shit, I've seriously done it now," she mumbled to herself.
She decided right then and there that she needed to put things right with Harry. His friendship was way more important than her silly pride. With new determination, Hermione set out to find her best friend.
She looked around for about 10 minutes, to no avail, before she ran into Jocelyn.
"Hey, Jocelyn," Hermione yelled over the music. "Have you seen Harry?"
Jocelyn, obviously intoxicated, giggled. "Not lately, but I wish I would. He's wicked cute. If I didn't already have Chris, I'd do him in a heartbeat," she noted. "Shit, I'd do him anyway, all he has to do is ask. But I'm sure I'd have to get in line behind you though, huh?" She giggled again and Hermione just shook her head.
"Um, ok. If you do see him, would you please tell him to meet me by the back door?" Hermione asked.
"No problem!" Jocelyn hiccupped.
"Thanks," Hermione replied.
"Bye-bye, Hermione!" Jocelyn called after her.
Hermione looked around a little longer before giving up and making her way to the back door in case Harry had run into Jocelyn and she'd actually remembered to give him the message.
She got as far as the kitchen when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She grinned and turned, expecting to see Harry. The grin faded as she glimpsed her companion.
"Looking for me?" Aaron drawled.
"Not really," Hermione shot back. She turned to walk away but Aaron moved in front of her.
"What's the rush?" he asked lazily, draping his arm around her shoulders.
"I have to meet Harry," Hermione said, trying to free herself from his clutches.
"Potter? Now why would you want to do that, when I'm right here, right now?" Aaron questioned. "Besides, you and I were just getting started," he added, leering hungrily at her.
"No," Hermione stated firmly. "I have to find Harry."
"I'm pretty sure he's otherwise occupied." Aaron grinned maliciously. He grabbed Hermione's wrist and started pulling her toward some stairs.
Hermione struggled to release her wrist, but Aaron just laughed and tightened his grip. Years of playing Quidditch as a Chaser had helped him develop a strong grip and large forearms, which he used to his advantage.
"I have to find Harry," Hermione protested weakly, still trying to get loose.
Aaron laughed evilly. "Please. That big-headed git is probably off trying to score with the first person that has bigger boobs than him," he stated cruelly. "Especially since he lost you to me. Shame, really," he continued. "Maybe now he'll finally get what he deserves." Aaron grinned maniacally, his usually handsome face distorted by the sneer he wore.
"After you," came a new voice.
Half a second later, a fist appeared out of nowhere and hit Aaron square in the jaw with a resounding crack. Just as quickly, he hit the floor, effectively knocked unconscious.
"Are you ok?" her savior asked, turning toward her.
"I am now," she answered, falling against his body. He caught her with practiced ease and she buried her head into his chest and breathed in the scent so memorable to her.
"Thanks, Harry," she said, with a shy smile.
"I've already told you, anything for you," he answered, returning the smile. "Although I must admit," he added with a smirk, "I've wanted to do that ever since I met the guy."
"I don't doubt it," Hermione retorted.
"So what should we do with him?" Harry asked, nudging Aaron in the side lightly with his shoe.
"Just leave `im," Hermione stated, with a shrug. "Maybe we'll get lucky and no one will notice."
Both of them laughed as Harry stepped over Aaron's prone body. He offered his hand to Hermione. She took it and made certain she tread on Aaron's back -hard- as she made her way pass him.
"How'd you find me anyway?" Hermione asked suddenly.
"Jocelyn," was the answer. "I was on my way to our meeting place when I saw him grab you. I rushed over as fast as I could."
"If you hadn't…" Hermione shuddered and Harry wrapped his arms around her again.
"But I did," Harry said softly. "Don't think on it anymore. You'll drive yourself mad."
"I'll try," Hermione replied.
"Hermione," Harry tried to continue. He was stopped by Hermione's finger on his lips.
"Me too, Harry," she whispered. "Me too."
They tightened their holds on each other for a few seconds, their apologies given and accepted in the simple gesture. They stepped back and grinned at each other. Hermione stuck her tongue out at him and Harry laughed and squeezed her again.
"Hermione!" Jocelyn bellowed.
"Jocelyn!" Hermione called back.
"Am I interrupting anything?" Jocelyn asked suggestively.
"Nope, nothing at all," Harry replied.
"Shit. I'll have to try back later," she mumbled before heading back to the dance floor.
Harry raised his eyebrows questioningly and Hermione just shook her head. "You don't want to know."
"Okaaaaay," Harry replied uncertainly. "Come on, there are still a few of my teammates you haven't met."
Harry pulled Hermione over to two girls who were talking in a corner. Both were about 5"6' and very pretty; one had short dark blond hair and hazel eyes, the other red-streaked brown hair and light blue eyes.
"Hey, Potter!" they chorused, then giggled.
"Yeah…they're totally wasted," Harry whispered in Hermione's ear before straightening up. "Hey, Anna, Emily."
"Hi, Harry," they said again, giggling like mad.
"Is this the girl you've been talking about?" the brunette asked.
"Yeah," Harry answered. "This is my best friend Hermione. Hermione these two lushes are Anna," he said, pointing to the girl who'd asked the question, "and Emily. They're our two other Chasers."
Emily picked up on the tone of voice Harry was using. "Ah, I take it you have had a run-in with our infamous third Chaser. Where is he now?"
"Knocked out cold on the kitchen floor, as far as I know," Hermione answered, straight-faced.
The girls looked at her unbelievingly, then burst out laughing. "Nu-uh. For real?"
Hermione nodded.
"It's about bloody time someone decked that prat," Anna said vehemently. "Who did it so I can kiss `em?"
Hermione smirked and her eyes twinkled mischievously. "I do believe you'r…hmph mmph." She was cut off by Harry clapping his hand over her mouth. He grinned at his teammates, who giggled again, and dragged her away.
Harry removed his hand and prepared for the onslaught.
"Why'd you do that?" Hermione asked. "I thought you would want to be snogged by your teammates." She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively and Harry had to laugh.
"Nah. They're nice and all, and not usually so giggly, but I have my eye on someone else," Harry blushed.
"Ah, yes, Miss Madeline," Hermione recalled. "She seemed really sweet when we had dinner a couple weeks ago."
"She is the sweetest girl I've ever met. Well, other than you, of course," he added.
Hermione smiled, flattered by his compliment. "Thanks, Harry."
"Yeah, I want you and Ron to get to know her better……" Harry trailed off as something caught his eye.
"Harry?" Hermione asked, her brows furrowed in concern. "What's going on?"
Harry was too busy staring, unblinking, at something behind Hermione to answer her. Hermione turned around and discovered he was starring at two someONES, both of whom were very familiar; Aaron and…Maddy?! Entwined…intimately…on a couch…
Hermione tried to digest all this information while Harry looked as though he was trying to keep down his dinner.
The two in question decided they needed to get some air and detached. Aaron leaned over and whispered something into Maddy's ear. "Oh, Aaron," she giggled and playfully swat him. She glanced up and saw Harry. She froze, eyes wide, starring at him.
Aaron noticed her behavior and looked up, a huge bruise forming on his jaw. His face contorted into a diabolical sneer as he caught sight of Harry and Hermione. "Well, well, well. Who got the girl this time, Potter?"
Harry just stood there, feeling as though he'd been punched in the stomach; his eyes boor into Maddy's. "You can have her," he stated soft, yet firmly. "I don't want her." He then disaparated without another word.
"Hermione," Maddy began, pleadingly.
"Stop. I don't want to hear it," Hermione responded. "You've hurt my best friend. You're on your own.
"And you," she said steely, whirling on Aaron. "Well, you might want to find another team to play on. You do not want me at any of your games or practices. It's too easy for an accident to occur," she finished, her voice low and deadly calm.
With that, she was gone, reappearing on the front porch of her house. There was a loud crash inside and she hurried in to find the entrance hall in disarray. "At least I know he's here," she muttered to herself. She followed the crashes and yells until she found the source.
Harry was blasting everything he could see, sometimes twice. Hermione stood back and watched in silence, letting him do what he needed to get out his anger and frustration.
After 15 minutes, Hermione came to the conclusion the house had taken enough abuse. "Harry," she called lightly. He didn't hear her above the ruckus he was making. "Harry," she tried again, and got the same reaction.
"HARRY!" she yelled, then ducked as a stray curse was accidentally sent her way. She stood up and adjusted her tank top. "Feel better?" she inquired, a touch of sarcasm in her tone.
"Sorry," Harry answered. "Guess I got a bit carried away, huh?" He grinned sheepishly, and with a well-placed `Reparo', everything was back to normal. Well, everything but Harry, who kept pacing back and forth, mumbling.
The only words Hermione was able to discern were "bloody wanker" and "stupid cow." She smiled to herself and went to retrieve the largest bottle of Firewhiskey she could find. She poured two glasses and handed one to Harry. He took it and swallowed it in one gulp, slamming the empty cup on the table. Hermione refilled it and Harry downed it. Silently, Hermione handed the bottle to him. He took a long drink, not even noticing the burning sensation as the liquid slid down his throat.
"You know what really gets me pissed?" Harry finally blurted. "The way she acted all…innocent," he spat.
"Oh, Harry," he began in a high voice. "You shouldn't stay tonight. We've only been together for a little while; we don't want to rush into anything." Harry let out a false giggle and Hermione fought the urge to grin.
"Now, I am totally thankful for not being with her," he continued. "Although, in all seriousness, when you're shagging the entire English National Team, what's one more?"
"Well, technically, she only shagged part of the team. She didn't shag you, and I'm fairly certain, though I could be wrong, she never shagged Anna or Emily," Hermione put in, a hint of amusement in her voice.
Despite his current mood, Harry cracked a smile and Hermione was encouraged.
"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she urged.
"No," Harry grudgingly agreed. "But that doesn't mean I'm not still mad!"
"Of course not," Hermione retorted condescendingly, pinching his cheek. "You can be as mad as you want."
"Don't mock me, woman!" Harry growled playfully.
"Who? Me?" Hermione feigned. "Never." She sent Harry a coy half-smile and any anger Harry harbored broke. He grabbed Hermione up in a huge bear hug and swung her around for effect.
"That's why I love you, Granger," Harry declared once he'd set her down. "You always know what to say to cheer me up."
"Do you know what else I say?" Hermione added mischievously.
"What?" Harry asked warily.
"I say I can drink you under the table," she replied.
"Bring it," he retorted with a smirk.
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