Chapter IXX: Of Sexiness
--
"Why'd you put a box that looks suspiciously like a… ring bearing sort of box down onto this table?" Harry asked, eyeing the velvet box with apprehension.
Ron stammered nonsensically for the next five minutes, emitting odd sounds that all just came out like random, garbled letters forced together in his confusion. Harry personally found it to sound something like this broken down car he'd once heard gurgling ostentatiously in some film or another. Nevertheless, it wasn't a pretty sound.
"Ron," Harry finally cut in, much to Ron's relief. "Just enunciate, it's not that hard… really," Harry guided him, all the while silently praying his voice wouldn't break in his fear over what was to come.
"I… I was thinking…"
"Well that's never good," Harry quipped, trying to keep the mood light-most primarily for his own sake.
Ron let a semblance of a smile cross his face, but it was more pained than anything else. "I bought this ring… for… for Hermione."
"Oh," Harry gasped. "Well that's surprising."
"Yeah," Ron weakly agreed, another pained smile flitting onto his face.
"So… you're really serious about this?"
Ron shrugged, and not the most enthusiastically, Harry noted. "I love Hermione… that girl is my life, she's made me… she made me be a better man. Hell, she made me a man in general, without her I'd still be a lost petulant boy, we all know that," Ron admitted with a sheepish smile. "Still, though… at times it feels like everything we do is because everyone else tells us how perfect we are for each other-opposites attracting at their best-and then there's my mother," Ron added with a suggestive look Harry's way. It wasn't a very nice suggestion. "But, then again, at other moments, I just think about us… our life… growing old together, and I like the picture. The picture is bloody brilliant actually, it's only that there are moments, sparse ones, when I consider if there's a better picture. But that… that's normal, right, Harry?"
There were so many things he wanted to say to that, so many things that he could have said that would have stopped all of the nonsense before it ever even began, but all he said at that moment was: "well they don't call it cold feet for nothing, I guess."
Ron's hopeful look faltered for a second, it clearly wasn't the reply he had wanted from his best mate of all people, but a second later he regained composure and nodded brightly, letting out an overdramatic breath. "Yeah, that is true."
--
The incessant knocking was giving him a migraine and he was honestly considering just grabbing his wand and hexing whoever it was who actually had the nerve to wake him at three in the morning on a Saturday, of all days.
Finally, with a glare and bemused frown firmly and grimly set in place, he whipped the door open, prepared to tear off the terrible, anonymous offender's head.
"Hi," Hermione chirped before he had a chance to process anything, much less reply. She quickly pushed her way into his flat without the slightest regard for propriety-such as asking him for permission before hand, he noted.
With a low growl he slammed the door shut, slouching a bit as he realized that he couldn't really bring himself to chastise her for her rude awakening, and much less so when she was so happy.
"Hermione…" he tiredly sighed as he followed her into the den. "What are you doing here at three in the morning?"
"I… I need to talk to you about something."
He smirked slightly as he let his body fall onto the chesterfield next to him. It was odd how she'd gone from smiling and bouncing about one second to frowning worridly the next. It was a bit disconcerting, but as he watched her pace before the fireplace he just let out a large yawn-though making sure to cover his mouth so as not to get slapped upside the head by her again.
"Clearly," he finally muttered. "But about what?"
"It… it's rather difficult…" she evaded the question.
"Well then how about I go to bed to make it a bit easier for you?-you can come back in the… well later in the morning and we'll talk about it then, yeah? Yeah… sounds great, I'll be off then?"
"Stop," she curtly ordered the second he got off the chesterfield, moving towards him and pushing him back down into his seat. "Don't be an arse right now, Harry, I…"
"Yes?" he goaded.
She groaned, plopping down onto the coffee table and throwing her face into her palms. "I hate you," she announced, her voice muffled by the hands covering her mouth. "Why must you make this so difficult for me?"
"Well if I didn't then who would? Wouldn't wan life to get boring now, would we?"
"I hate you," she repeated, adding a little more spite to the fire that time.
Harry couldn't help the amused smile that crossed his face then. "And why so this time?"
She slowly picked her head up, almost making it look as if it weighed a ton with the amount of effort that she put into the action, and looked him in the eye. "Because-" she cut herself off with a loud breath, clearly trying to force the words out. "Because," she repeated, more slowly that time, obviously struggling with whatever admission it was, "you've been giving me entirely un-platonic feelings and it's distracting me."
His eyes widened and jaw suddenly went slack upon hearing that unexpected but very much so appreciated, announcement. "I… I cause un-platonic feelings?" he reiterated once he finally regained composure, letting a smirk take over his face.
She scowled, whimpering and letting her head fall into her hands, again.
Harry chuckled. "Oh come on, don't be like that. I mean, it's not every day a bloke gets the honor of learning that he distracts the Hermione Granger from her work, it's quite the privilege…"
Her scowl deepened as she sat up and sent him a dirty look. "You don't get it, do you? This is utterly detrimental to my work! I've been trying to go over case notes and pathology reports for the past six or so hours, but nothing! I can't concentrate because all I can think of is you and your… your damn advances."
Harry cocked an eyebrow, smiling widely. "Advances?"
"It's a variation," she defended. "You-you put your hand on the small of my back whenever opening a door for me and helping me in… you'll-you'll take my hand once in a while as we walk…" she stumbled on a bit nonsensically. "And-and you're chivalrous. I hate that about you, you know? It makes everything all the harder as I realize I can't ignore you or my damn feelings, you-you jerk!"
His eyes twinkled with teasing, she grumpily noted. "Sure, love," he drawled.
She raised her hands, waving them about in an almost lunatic-like manner. "Oh and there you go, again."
He let out a snort. "Well I'm sorry, Hermione, what would you prefer I do?"
"Something other than just sitting there and mocking me, that I can assure you."
At that… well his grin became perfectly wicked then.
--
"You… you knew that he was going to ask me to marry him and you didn't warn me?!" Hermione shook with anger as she shrieked at Harry.
Harry's jaw was slack, not having expected to have Hermione suddenly just apparate into his room in the middle of the night with steam practically coming out of her ears. "I… I'm sorry?" he tried.
She sent him a glare before grabbing the beer that he had been drinking and letting herself get comfortable on his bed before moving to shut off his television. "You are a prat," she informed him.
"I just… I didn't think it was my place though."
"Psh, please, don't give me that bull, Harry, I deserve better than that."
He shrugged helplessly. "I honestly thought that you'd prefer to be surprised when it happened."
"Me?" she gasped, bringing a hand to her chest as she scoffed at his audacity. "Me, even with my history with Ron? Really?!"
"It sounded good at the moment, I swear," he defended pleadingly.
"Harry," she sighed, slumping against the headboard of his bed. "You should have given me a chance to prepare."
His brow wrinkled as he eyed her questioningly. "Prepare for what? Feigning surprise?"
"No," she quietly refuted. "To let him down easily," was her meek admission, one that had the church choirs singing praises of "hallelujah" in his head.
Harry felt as if his eyes were practically bugging out of his head when he heard that one and his voice cracked embarrassingly as he asked, "you did?"
Hermione nodded solemnly, taking a large sip of his beer. "It's not the right time, especially not when Molly is breathing down his neck for this. If… if it ever does happen-the stars align for us, and all of that useless tripe-well I guess I just want it to be real; I'm girly enough for that, at least."
Harry smiled slowly as he watched her. "Yeah, I guess I can understand that."
"But, Harry…?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time Ron tells you something important concerning me I will castrate you if you don't tell me right away, I swear to god."
"Right-o… and I'll get us some more beer, too…"
"Good thinking."
--
She didn't know who was the one to make the first official leap-to lean forward first, to make the shift from friendship to… something else permanent-but she did know she was thankful for it. The second their bodies met, the second their mouth conjoined, the second she felt the heady pressure of his tongue against hers she was lost to it all. It was… sexy. There was simply no other word for it, and she wanted to beat herself for not having indulged the second she was given the opportunity.
There was something terrifyingly masterful about his technique-something that possibly foreshadowed many fights lost on her part if he was going to use that particular skill on her often. He was rough and gentle all at once, though she didn't quite understand how he managed to do it. His touch was so gentle, but his hold on her so strong, and she reveled in the feel of it all. He controlled the kiss, probing her mouth and leaving no crevice unexplored as he expertly massaged them.
She felt her knees weaken and he immediately hoisted her up, allowing her the chance to wrap her legs around his waist as he moved to push her against the wall for support. They continued to snog for another minute before Harry suddenly wrenched his lips away from her neck-where he had moved his attentions to, and begun doing the most delicious of things on this special little spot at its base-taking them both by surprise, and unpleasantly so.
Hermione's legs slid down his body and made their way back to the ground before Harry backed away from her, eyes wide with shock.
Hermione cocked her head to the side, worry prevalent in her wide eyes, as she asked: "wh-why did you stop?"
She couldn't help the plethora of terrible possibilities that ran through her mind at that moment. Each was more disturbing than the next as she was struck with the paralyzing fear that he might be over her. Was it possible that she may have waited too long and now he had moved on? Maybe he had come to realize that maybe she wasn't really what he wanted after all now that he had had a taste of her. Oh sure, he'd put her down politely, as he was Harry and her best friend, but still… he'd be rejecting her nevertheless and that hurt more than she had ever imagined her heart could bear.
"Hermione? Hermione?!" Harry waved a hand in front of her face, pulling her out of her terrifying reverie.
"Huh?" was her most ineloquent reply.
A crooked smile was sent her way at that response. "I… I was just asking you something…"
"Huh?" she repeated.
He laughed softly as a hint of rouge touched his cheeks, but she didn't even have time to note it while lost in her fears.
"I was wondering if you'd let me take you out this weekend… you know, give it a go… the right way," he elaborated, stumbling along the way as he nervously dragged his hand through his hair.
She let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding back as a wide smile took over her face. "I'd say my answer to that is a bit obvious wouldn't you?"
"Let me hear it anyway; just in case, we wouldn't want it to be lost in translation or anything."
She moved towards him, bringing her lips a hairsbreadth away from his, taking an immense amount of pleasure in his sharp intake of a breath as she brought her hands up to rest on his naked chest. "I'd love to," she told him before bringing her lips to his.
--
"I don't know what it is with people your age," Andersen suddenly announced with a large sigh.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked with a curious look as he took a sip of the coffee that his therapist's receptionist had provided him with.
"You're all so… mopey."
"Mopey?"
"Yes, you all love to mope."
Harry snickered. "I got that much, but I can't understand where the proclamation came from."
"Look at yourself," Andersen glibly replied. "All you do is bitch and moan, but you never act."
"There's reason-"
"I know, you've listed them so many times that I don't know who you're trying to convince, me or yourself."
"Don't be a bastard," Harry scowled.
Andersen smiled softly, pityingly. "I'm just stating the facts, Harry. All you talk about is change, and you've accomplished a great deal of it, but the one thing that hasn't changed is that you're still not happy."
"That's not true, I'm very happy. I mean… I have an amazing job, fun girlfriend, the best friends you could ask for… no addiction…"
"Still doesn't mean you're truly happy. Let's be honest, Potter, it's more so out of obligation than the fact that you truly do feel fulfilled, so stop with the bullshit and face the real problems in your life." He let a frown mar his face, pausing before continuing. "You're a good kid, don't muck up the rest of your life over fear. Take a chance."
"I will… sometime…"
Andersen shook his head disappointedly. "Just don't croak before that time comes, yeah?"
--
When she woke up she found herself completely disoriented, all that she knew was that she found the position extremely uncomfortable as Crookshanks found himself lying across her waist.
"Urmf," she groaned. "Crooks, move," she pleaded.
The animal, however, didn't budge. Instead, a very un-orange and un-fluffy arm turned her over so she found herself facing a grinning Harry.
A blush immediately overtook her face as she realized her mistake and she ducked her head in embarrassment. "I… I thought it was Crooks…"
"So I heard," he grinned, using his pointer finger to force her view to his face. "Morning," he huskily whispered.
She smiled, biting her lip lightly. "Good morning to you, too… we should go, shouldn't we?"
He nodded disappointedly. "'Fraid so, love, we have a busy day ahead of us."
"Then… I should go… home, to change," she noted as she looked down at her body, still clad in the pajamas she'd arrived in the night before.
"Shame," he frowned. "I'm rather turned on by the tiny shorts and Liverpool jersey… just have to ask, you don't actually have a crush on Torres, do you?"
She laughed. "Nope… I find myself leaning more so towards the tall, dark, and handsome sort. Especially when they have hair that just won't stay in place, I love the quirkiness," she winked with a teasing tone.
"Good," he said, tightening his grip on her waist. "But you should probably go… now, before I decide to find a reason to lock us up in here all day."
She paused for a moment, her cheeks reddening again. "Maybe… maybe I wouldn't be entirely adverse to that…"
He groaned as he pushed her away from him. "Go, you wench," he groaned, rubbing and pulling on his face with both hands.
She let out a small giggle despite herself and how much she'd always mocked those sorts of girls, apparating out of the bedroom with a small smile sent Harry's way.
"Eventful evening?" Ron asked from behind his newspaper as soon as Hermione popped into the kitchen.
"Very," she replied with a surprised laugh.
Ron whistled, putting down his paper with an expectant look her way. "Well he better not have been a prat and screwed you right away."
"I hate you," Hermione growled as she took a seat opposite of him and stole a piece of bacon from his plate.
--
Author's note: I know, I'm terrible for not having updated in ages… and I feel horrible about it, I promise. However, like any good procrastinator, I do have my fair share of excuses (and they're good, I swear!):
1. Finals
2. Moving
3. Vacation-went away
4. Founding out I'd lost my USB while moving. NOTE: this USB had all of my notes on In Retrospect (along with a few chapters I wrote between studying for finals) as well as half of the rebooted Into the Dark and a good 5 chapters of my rebooted I Know that You Sleep with My Boyfriend
5. Feeling no inspiration to write after losing everything since I only keep it on my USB and not my laptop…
but after finally allowing the guilt to take over and having the amazing luck to find a FULL copy of IF LIVE GIVES YOU LEMONS, THROW THEM BACK online and reading through it I felt so inspired (and in HHr-love) that I wrote up this new chapter. It's totally different from what little I remember of the original version of this chapter (as I hadn't had the time to revise/go through it again, yet) but hopefully for the better.
p.s. trying to work my way to maybe writing smut, idk, you can tell me what you think (honestly!)
PLEASE, take pity on me, review.
And, again, a thousand thank so my wonderful beta Searcy.


-->