Authors Note: I have finally finished chapter 4. This took longer to write than I would have liked, but sometimes real life gets in the way. Thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter 3 for me. The response was a pleasant surprise, and I certainly appreciate it. As always, a special thanks goes out to my wife, she is my idea sounding board, and I value her opinion. Well here's chapter 4, I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think.
Chapter 4
Hermione sat on the couch by the fireplace with Harry, listening to him try to tell her something, but he wasn't doing a very good job of it so far. She was being very patient. All she really wanted to do was snog his brains out. She also wanted to show him her special underwear. Actually, she was willing to let him find out about them on his own, she was also eager to pick up where they left off earlier in the evening.
And then, he said it. "What happened between us," and he stopped.
Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes got big, and she had trouble breathing as she brought a hand up to her chest and rose from her seat.
"Oh my God…..Oh my God, he is going to say that what happened between us was all a big mistake! He doesn't think of me like that, he just had a momentary lapse in judgment, and he's sorry! Why else would he begin a sentence that way? Oh God….please, don't let this be happening,"
Harry quickly clarified what he had meant to say, and Hermione was able to breathe again.
Hermione let him pull her back down onto the couch, but only because he was saying such wonderful thing to her. Harry said that he didn't regret what had happened at all, it made him very happy. He told her she was amazing, and sexy, and wonderful, and she started to relax, but he hadn't finished yet.
He then told her that he feared that Ginny had done something.
Hermione greeted that statement with quizzical indifference. "Who cares about Ginny?"
Whatever she had done couldn't possible compare to what Hermione thought Harry had been trying to tell her.
She waited for him to finish.
He took a deep breath, held onto her hand and told her about Ginny and the potion, and everything she had feared became reality.
Hermione thought the worst instantly. "He didn't love her! It was just the potion. It wasn't her he wanted, he was just a horny, lust filled robot, and she happened to be handy…….and she had let him!"
She didn't even remember standing up, but she was on her feet, hugging herself tight. She looked at him, and felt utterly humiliated. He, to his credit, looked upset as well, but he couldn't even begin to visit the place she was in now. Seventeen years of insecurities all came crashing to the forefront. She was unattractive, and bossy. She was an outcast as far as the other girls were concerned. Nobody could possibly desire a bushy haired, formerly buck toothed, bookworm like her. Then the tears began. Her heart had broken. She had guarded her feeling for Harry for so many years. She had locked them deep inside, and had come to grips with the fact that they would always be 'just friend'. She had accepted her role, and then, today happened, and everything changed.
Harry had wanted her, he had vigorously pursued her. She had not given in because of her insecurities, and then in the hallway….. She could control herself no longer, and she let her feelings for him out, all at once, but it was a lie, from his side anyway.
She cried like she never had before, and he just stood there, saying nothing! Hermione had to get away from him, so she fled up the stairs. She could hear him on the stairs behind her, chasing her, but she never looked back, she just kept going. She flew through her bedroom door, and dove onto her bed crying harder than ever.
Harry was screaming her name, over and over on the staircase. She had to block it out, she could not think about Harry, or she would die of a broken heart. "Stop, please stop," was all she could think as she wrapped her pillow around her head to block out the sound of his voice.
All Harry could think about as he followed her up the stairs was that he needed to reassure her that it was all real. Tell her a thousand times if he had to. But the fuckin stairs had stopped him. He called out to her, pleadingly; he needed to explain, to help ease her pain. He had never seen Hermione so hurt, and it was absolutely killing him. He had finally realized, as he sat bloody and battered on the common room floor, how much he loved her and not just as a friend. He hadn't truly known what love was until he saw the hurt in her eyes and felt the physical pain her being hurt had caused him. It was the most powerful feeling he had ever felt. It had rocked him to his core. And now…now that he understood what it was that he felt for her, he was more desperate than ever to get to Hermione, and tell her.
And the bloody castle would have none of it!
Mercifully, Harry had finally stopped yelling her name. Hermione lay on her bed still sobbing uncontrollably, but her bad night had the potential to get much worse. All the girls who had been standing around watching Harry lose his battle with the stairs flooded back into the dorm and headed straight for her, to find out what had gone on between them.
Incredibly, Lavender shooed them all away. Maybe she sensed that she might have contributed to the bizarre situation, and she may have felt a touch of guilt. Whatever the case, she did not want anyone bothering Hermione at the moment, and she was adamant about it.
Hermione never even looked up as the crowd around her dispersed. She continued to cry as she lay facedown on the bed with her arm tucked under her. Her wild hair provided ample cover to obscure her face from prying eyes.
An eerie calm permeated the girl's dormitory. Most of the Gryffindor ladies were dying to speculate as to what might have happened between Harry and Hermione. They were curious to know what could have caused the extreme behavior they had witnessed from Harry, and were seeing now from Hermione. It was potentially so juicy, yet out of a grudging respect for Hermione, most refrained, there were just slight whispers here and there.
After a while Hermione was finally able to bring her emotions under control. She continued to lie in bed, but her tears, for the moment, had been spent. The unbearable weight of the emotions of the day had worn her out, and she drifted off into an uneasy, restless sleep.
Harry exploded out of the common room leaving behind dozens of his fellow Gryffindors totally stunned by what they had witnessed.
His anger toward Ginny grew with each and every step he took down the corridor. He wore no glasses, as he had lost them when he fell the first time. His chin was bleeding, his elbows were bloody, and the knees of his pants were torn out. Harry walked down the hallway clenching and unclenching his hands into fists. As he powered down the hall the wallpaper on either side of him was being sliced to shreds as if sharp claws were opening the walls up. Harry didn't even notice.
A though went through his head.
"ACCIO GINNY," he roared with all the power he could muster as he reared back and then fired forward with his wand out the window in front of him. The window exploded out, and the wand began to pull hard in his hand. He was forced to grab it with both hands to keep it from pulling away from him. He began pulling back on the wand with all his might.
Ginny Weasley stood in front of a mirror in a small wizard's boutique in Paris twirling to admire the gorgeous blue muggle dress she was trying on, when suddenly she was spun around and lifted off her feet. She was being sucked through the air feet first towards a small vortex that had opened in the ceiling at the front of the shop. She screamed, and then called out for her mother.
"MOM, Help me! What's happening?"
Molly Weasley bolted out of her seat so quickly that her chair was knocked backwards into the clothing rack behind it. The sight of her youngest, and only daughter, being sucked toward a vortex to 'who knew where' had spurred her to quick action and she leapt off the ground and grabbed both of Ginny's hands with hers. Her weight had been enough to momentarily slow Ginny's ascent as Molly's feet once again made contact with the ground. She was immediately joined by Fleur who also grabbed a hold of Ginny and began pulling her back down as well.
Harry nearly lost his grip as he was jerked forward about three feet toward the window by the extreme force exerted against his wand. As his front foot made contact with the stones below the window he braced himself with both feet. Harry then bent his knees and pulled back as hard as he could, letting out a guttural roar as he did so. The muscles in his arm and legs quivered from the strain as he fought with all his might to regain control of his wand.
Ginny, Fleur, and Molly were suddenly and unexpectedly pulled forward as Ginny headed for the vortex once again, kicking and screaming. Molly screamed for the three salesgirls from the shop to help them. The combined pull of the five women began to slowly bring Ginny back down. Molly took a second and fumbled around in her pocket and drew her wand. She pointed at the vortex and muttered something the five other women could not make out. Then, as if a knife had sliced through the center of a game of tug-or-war, the connection was broken. The five women pulling Ginny were propelled backwards into a rack of women's blouses. They came to rest piled on top of each other, and the cloths, all of them aching and disoriented.
The head salesgirl was the first one to find her voice as the other women moaned and groaned and checked themselves for the bruises they knew where there, or at the very least were coming.
"So ladies, you are taking the blue dress, right?" she asked as she nodded her head for emphasis. Her question was delivered in a tone that left Molly Weasley with little doubt that it was not actually a question at all, but more a statement of fact. Molly, relieved that their ordeal was over, grudgingly nodded in agreement.
Harry was pulling as hard as he possible could when suddenly the connection broke. He flew backwards, his arms flailing in an attempt to help him regain his balance, but to no avail. He crashed to the floor hard and his wand flew backward over his shoulder. It landed on the ground ten feet behind him and eventually rolled to a stop. He laid there on the castle floor in stunned silence staring at the stone ceiling above him for a long time, resigned to defeat. Eventually, he sat up. He was aggravated and annoyed and he shook his head in disbelief.
"Why me?" he asked no one in particular as he stood up and brushed the dirt from the castle floor off his hands. "I don't deserve to lose my best friend like this! It's not fair!" he roared, as the happiest day of his live had been turned into his worst day ever.
Harry could not face the prospect of spending the night in the dorms, not with all of the questions that it would undoubtedly entail. He knew he couldn't face that at the moment. Not now, no way! He headed off down the corridor hoping that the room of requirement would appear so he could bed down for the night. It did, and in he went. He dropped onto the bed fully clothed, still bloody, but too damn worn out to do anything about it, and in minutes, he was asleep.
Neville Longbottom lay in his bed wide awake. He was very troubled by what he had witnessed in the common room just a short while ago concerning Harry. Earlier in the evening he had come upon Harry and Hermione in the hallway and there was zero doubt in his mind that they were together, and in love. What he saw in the common room defied logic. How could things between them have fallen apart so fast? Whether it was proper or not for him to peek around the corner at them back in the hallway earlier, he had done it, and was blown away by what he had seen. Harry and Hermione were all over one another. He'd seen them together, only like a thousand times in the last six years, but not like that! It was impossible to tell where Harry ended and Hermione began. He truly believed if they hadn't known that he was standing ten feet away, they would have shagged, right there, in the hallway, no question.
He took a deep breath as he lay in bed remembering.
"Whew!" he exhaled, as the vision of what his two friends had been doing began to fade from his mind.
"So, what happened?" he wondered. "Must have been McGonagall, whatever she said to Harry must have upset him. But then, why was he pleading with Hermione? Was she the one who was upset?" Hermione hadn't talked to McGonagall as far as he knew. "I don't understand. This whole thing makes no sense." He shook his head, rolled over onto his side, and lay there wondering as he tried to fall asleep.
Ron Weasley was in his bed, which was two down from Neville's, wide awake as well. Harry's bed sat empty between them. Where his best friend was, Ron had no idea. Although, to Ron, it was obvious that Hermione was the cause of whatever was upsetting Harry.
"What the hell did she do to him?" he wondered. Ron was extremely unnerved by that, whatever it was, that had taken place in the common room. He was totally at a loss to explain it. He had never seen Harry behave that way before, ever! He knew he should probably go look for his friend, but he also knew that when Harry was angry like that, it was just best to leave him alone until he calmed down.
"Hermione better tell me what the hell she did to him," he growled, still more than a little annoyed about her 'inquisition' crack from earlier in the night. Ron had somehow managed to forget that it was his remark about her hair that had prompted her response. He was convinced that Hermione had upset Harry, like she had upset him when she snapped at him, and he wasn't going to let her get away with it. He would confront her, first thing tomorrow, about what she had done to upset Harry.
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Minerva McGonagall sat behind her desk, slowly sipping a southing cup of tea. She had more or less finished up her work for the day and was just relaxing before heading off to bed. The Headmistress still felt a nagging uneasiness about her conversation with Harry. The boy was obviously upset, which was no surprise, but he was also just as obviously hiding something from her. Something had happened between Harry and Miss Granger, of that she had no doubt, and if that question he had attempted to ask her was any indication, she wasn't sure she wanted to know what it was.
"Teenagers…..they are so clueless, I'm amazed they take so long to figure things out." She'd suspected for years that Harry and Miss Granger, would eventually end up together, but they continued to muddle along, clueless as ever.
"But today was different," she said to herself. "He was very upset. I thing it might be prudent if I made some inquires."
She looked across the room at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore that hung on the wall between two former headmasters. His beautifully ornate frame was empty at the moment; he was not in his painting.
"I wonder where he could be so late," she wondered as she looked at the old grandfather clock to her right and spied the time. "Albus, are you there?" McGonagall called as she got up from her desk, tea cup still in hand, and heading across the room towards the empty frame. As she did so, she watched for any signs of movement from within the painting.
Finally, the former Headmaster appeared, jutting his head back into view.
"I'm sorry Minerva, where you looking for me?" Dumbledore asked. "I was unavoidable drawn into a deep philosophical discussion that was raging among my fellow portraits about the pros and cons of earwax as a flavor of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans." He smiled a playful smile, and winked at her in his whimsical way.
When his lighthearted attempt at humor failed to elicit the response he was hoping for from his successor, his tone changed, and he asked her with all seriousness.
"What is it that's troubling you Minerva?"
McGonagall pondered his question for a moment as she set down her tea cup. She was slightly apprehensive about bringing up a student's private affairs with Dumbledore. But, considering the student was Harry Potter, she thought it might be best to seek his advice.
"Albus, I had a somewhat disturbing conversation with Mister Potter early this evening, and I'm hoping that maybe you could offer a fresh perspective on the situation."
She then relayed to the former headmaster all that had transpired in her office concerning Harry.
Dumbledore listened, nodded in understanding when it was appropriate to do so, and let her tell the whole tale before he spoke.
"Minerva, Harry is no longer the young boy he was when he came to us. He has grown into a fine young man. But, if as you suspect, something may have taken place between he and Miss Granger that could have been potion induced, then it is our duty to investigate the matter. We both know that such an occurrence could have a great affect on the well being of two of our most gifted students."
McGonagall nodded in agreement. "What do you suggest, Albus?"
The wily old Headmaster thought for a moment. "I shall make some discreet inquiries among my fellow portraits as to whether or not any of them has seen anything out of the ordinary in regard to Mister Potter or Miss Granger today. The castle and the ground are large, but with a little luck, someone may have seen something that could shed some light on the situation."
Both Dumbledore and McGonagall agreed that it was a bit too late to be rousing some of the painting occupants. So it was decided that Dumbledore would begin to make inquires first thing in the morning.
"Thank you Dumbledore, I truly appreciate your help in this matter," the Headmistress relayed to her former headmaster with a nod of appreciation.
"Minerva, as you know, I will always assist you in any way that I can." And with that he bowed his head and disappeared from the painting.
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Bright and early the next morning, before the students were up and about, McGonagall was back at her desk preparing for the day ahead. Despite the fact that it was a Saturday, school business still needed to be addressed. The Hogwarts Headmistress could very often be found at her desk before sun up, and this day was no exception. As she was rustling through the papers on her desk she was startled when a gentle cough from the row of portraits broke the predawn silence.
"Forgive me Minerva, I didn't mean to startle you," Dumbledore apologized.
"That is quite alright, Albus." She replied as she raised and hand to her chest to try to coax her heartbeat back to normal. "Are you preparing to make inquires so early?" she asked the gray haired old wizard.
"Actually, that will not be necessary as I have already acquired all the information that is needed."
McGonagall looked at the former headmaster with a slightly startled expression. She had not expected such an answer.
"Tell me Albus, is it as bad as I have feared?" she whispered to him in a low tone. "Your expression is not hopeful."
"While some of the portraits were more reserved in what they were willing to divulge, others were far more forthcoming about what they had seen," he answered.
"What I can tell you Minerva is this. That yes, there was indeed an 'encounter' between Harry and Miss Granger, which was most definitely romantic in nature. But, as I'm sure you will understand, it would be the height of impropriety for me to elaborate on the specific details of their encounter. Unfortunately for me, said details were relayed to me most graphically, but also of course, in the strictest of confidence. I will add though, that while their liaison may have indeed been instigated by Mister Potter, it would seem that our Miss Granger was, shall we say, at the very least a most active participant. And." A sly smile reached the old Headmasters lips before he finished. "It would appear that she was in fact, at times, the aggressor."
McGonagall's face instantly registered the incredible shock she felt at the last of Dumbledore's words.
"Oh my," was all she could manage as she stared at Dumbledore's smirking face. "Our Miss Granger? Good heavens, I never would have guessed it." She shook her head and brought a hand up to her cheek
"Oh my indeed," she remarked again.
Dumbledore wasn't sure, but it seemed to him that the slightest hint of a blush appeared on the aged Headmistresses face just before she chuckled softly to herself and smiled.
When she had recovered from Dumbledore's somewhat surprising news, her expression turned more serious once again as she posed the following question to her predecessor.
"So Albus, what do you suggest we do now?"
"Minerva, while I defer to your judgment, of course," he said as he nodded to her. "I believe that this may ultimately be a situation that would be best left to the parties involved to sort out. However, a friendly word of advice, gently offered, could be helpful if needed. Now, Miss Weasely, on the other hand," Dumbledore grumbled as his demeanor changed completely. "It is my opinion that she should be sternly spoken to upon her return to the castle. Her offence is quite serious, and her fate in regards to this matter will need to be decided."