Chapter Six
Five minutes. Just five more minutes she had to meet Harry in the library for their first studying session. Hermione couldn't be more anxious as she twiddled her feet underneath the table and continued to glance towards the direction of the exit. She knew she shouldn't be this overly excited about their meeting. But it felt sort of exciting, breaking to rules to meet your new partner in the confines of the library.
Ron had made sure to keep a close eye on her ever since the `incident' that morning. It seems that his ego being somewhat deflated had no effect affect whatsoever on his overprotection of his not-so-secret fancy. He made sure to stay close by her side during dinner and try (yet not succeed) to hold her hand underneath the table. He was now nursing the bruises forming on his palm. Hermione took this as an opportunity to run for it.
She got up swiftly from the table and grabbed her books from where she had set it previous. She only glanced at Ron's reaction to her abrupt leaving, and in that glance it seemed as though he needed a very firm stress ball. As she made her way out of the hall she felt eyes at the back of her head. She stopped, an odd feeling coming over her. She turned around and heard the shifting of seats so that it appeared the whole hall was eating and easily in conversation. Hermione sighed. Those new hobbies had better show up soon.
It was a quick trip to the library. That might have been due to the rapid movements of her legs and her slightly out-of-breath demeanor. She pushed open the doors that allowed her into the library and felt a gust of something come over her; must have been the cooling charm on the school. Hermione started to search the tables for a familiar tuff of ebony hair.
"He has to be here somewhere . . ." she muttered to herself. "Of course we didn't pick a place to study"
All of the places she checked were vacant as usual as there were no upcoming exams or projects due until the following months. Of course, there were the odd few overachievers scattered throughout the secluded places. She often found herself in these corners more often than not.
Hermione edged her way around another corner, expecting to find another vacant table. She heard it before she saw it. Giggling . . . and a faint sound that to her ears sounded light someone sucking on a cherry lollipop. She looked up and gasped.
"Oh Merlin! I'm so sorry!"
The couple only glanced a moment at her before continuing their activities. But it wasn't the curiosity or the outrage of the couple flaunting public displays of affection that caused her to stay where she stood. It was the familiar tuff she had been looking for.
"Harry?" she whispered in astonishment.
The boy half of the pair glanced up to meet her gaze. When their eyes met he immediately started to push the girl away from where she stood sucking on his neck. She turned around and Hermione recognized her as the seventh year Ravenclaw bombshell, Cho Chang. She let out a breath.
"Sorry to have interrupted-" Hermione started.
"No. No really it's alright . . . right Cho?" Harry glanced at the black haired beauty as she wiped her smeared lip gloss from her lips.
She nodded. "Oh yeah." She smiled at Harry and picked up her discarded jumper from the table at her side, smoothing out the small wrinkles. "I'll see you later, Harry."
Harry gave her a curt nod in response. When she was safely out of reach Harry sighed and took a seat at the far end of the table. He motioned for Hermione too sit down and she complied in her zombie-like state. She expected him to smile at her but he was looking down at the table, tracing the patterns the wooden structure held. Her brow furrowed in confusion. He glanced up and caught her look right before she had time to change it back. He sighed as he straightened out his composure and leant back in the chair.
"Listen, I really am sorry that you had to see me like that."
Hermione's expression didn't change. "You're apologizing to me?" -he nodded- "It should be me apologizing to you. I came too early and you were obviously occupied . . . so I'm sorry."
He shook his head, "She caught me off guard, that's all."
"Oh."
He must have taken her reply in a questioning manor, as he continued to speak. "You aren't mad at me?"
"No, why would I be?"
He now seemed to match Hermione's look of confusion. "You're not . . . jealous?"
Hermione stomach seemed to drop down into her feet. "J-jealous? Why would I be jealous?"
Harry looked embarrassed, "Well I thought because of our history . . ." Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. "And I see I was wrong. You obviously didn't feel anything."
"Look Harry, I said I wanted to forget about it. That means no mentioning it, no acting differently around me because of it. I'm one of your friends and we are working on a project together that is due in a few short months and I for one would like to get it done." She was out of breath when she finished.
Harry looked slightly affronted, "Oh . . . well, alright then."
Hermione nodded and began to unload the supplies she had packed in her book bag, all the while scolding herself. Great, now he thinks that you are some freak that wants to avoid something that obviously meant something to you.-No it didn't-Yes it did-No it didn't!-You know you felt something-It was just the punch-YOU DIDN'T HAVE ANY PUNCH!
"Are you alright?"
Hermione gasped as her head shot up and banged against the bottom of the table. "Owch!" she whispered as she rubbed the top of her head. She sat down on the ground and continued to rub it until she felt a small bump. "Just great." She muttered under her breath.
She heard some movement beside her and saw Harry kneeling with a concerned look etched on his features. "I'm sorry; you must have been looking for something."
"No." she confessed, beginning to straighten her back. "I was just thinking." She saw his hand held out in front of her and took it. They both got up and faced each other, not even an inch away. Hermione felt her breath catch and took a step away. When she looked back up she saw his face was turned to the ground as well. She smiled. She let the smile fade, though, the reason behind it causing her thoughts to run rampant. But before it could get too out of hand, she felt the need to speak and end the silence.
"I guess we should get to work, then."
"Y-yeah . . . that would work."
They both took their seats and began to look through the notes that the two of them had taken when the class was covering the subject. Hermione was scribbling furiously against her parchment as Harry just stared blankly at his notes. She noticed his lack of progress and looked up to him. "What's wrong?"
"I just feel that I should be doing something more. Outlining notes that are already to the point seems kind of bleak and boring, don't you think?"
"Well it's the only way I know to start off the project . . . anything in mind?"
He looked to be deep in thought until he spoke again with a smile on his face, "I think we should do an act."
"An act?" she questioned.
"Yeah, like a skit with all of the correct information and such. We'll have a narrator, a witch of course, and some angry villagers throwing fake torches into the fake fire."
"It's going to be fake, then?" I asked with a smirk.
"No . . . we're going to burn you alive and eat you with freshly cut pineapple and cinnamon seasoning." His sarcasm was evident.
"Yummy." She replied. It was a few seconds until she realized the significance of his reply. "Wait, me?"
"Well yeah. Who else would play the cunning witch faking her own death?" He asked with a smile.
"I don't know, Harry. I don't like attention much."
"It'll only be for a five minute presentation . . . please?" He looked at me with his eyes open wide and lower lip puffed out. Strange that he would know her only weakness.
"Not the pout . . ."
"Yep, the pout." He smirked.
Hermione sighed. "I hate you . . ."
"No you don't."
She let out a growl, "Fine, I'll do it."
Harry settled the dispute with a smile and started to scribble on his piece of parchment. "I thought you didn't want to take any notes."
"I'm not." He saw Hermione's confused look and laughed, "I'm writing a script, you didn't think that we would just make the whole thing up?"
"Oh, alright." Hermione nodded and began to read the book that she had checked out of the library the day before on their subject. Kind of ironic that she was reading it in here since she checked it out to be able to read in the seclusion of her room.
The evening was spent like that, the both of them writing and studying about their report until Hermione let out a loud yawn. Harry looked up from his parchments (he was a very fast writer, although most of the writing was scribbled out in big splotches of black ink) and forced back a smile. "I guess that's our signal to go to bed."
"Oh am I a signal now?" She stifled another yawn.
"You got it. Now let's get you up to bed before you collapse, `Mione."
Hermione, no matter how tired she was, furrowed her brow as he helped her pack up her things and ease her out of her chair. Only when she was balanced with Harry's arm around her waist did she speak, "`Mione?"
"Yeah . . . what you don't like it?"
"N-no . . . it's just different. But in a good way." Even though she couldn't see his face she knew he was smiling.
They made their way up to the Gryffindor Common Room in silence, Hermione slipping on her own feet or a loose carpet piece more than once. They somehow made their way to their destination right before Hermione thought she might collapse. She was only faintly aware of the portrait opening and Harry kissing her cheek goodbye. Somehow she made it to her dormitory and collapsed on her bed, instantly falling asleep when her head hit the pillow.
~*~
He knew that he shouldn't have given in so easily. Damn testosterone. When Cho just approached him in that corner where he was getting in some last-minute studying before he went off to meet Hermione he didn't know what to do. Push her away? Ha, that was a laugh; definitely not. He had been pining over this girl for Merlin knows how long. Hermione could wait.
But when Hermione gave him that look . . . Harry knew that he had to end their brief encounter, no matter how pleasurable it was. When he looked Hermione in the eyes he was immediately overcome by guilt. She deserved friend then one who would be thinking about skipping their meeting for a quick snog with another girl. A very pretty girl, with lovely lips that felt so good upon his . . .
These thoughts were what plagued Harry when he was atop his bed that night. The many different emotions and feelings were overwhelming on his already exhausted mind. He didn't think he would ever fall asleep until he began to see a smoky figure coming towards him, swaying her hips almost seductively. She reached where he was standing and he could make out her face . . .
"Cho" he whispered.
Cho nodded her head and leaned towards him slightly and he met her lips with his. His arms wrapped instinctively around her waist as he pressed their bodies together. Her lips felt better than they had the last time, her tongue even more.
Their lips devoured each other and he felt the scene spinning around him. He heard voices around him conversing in relaxed conversations. He pulled back from Cho slightly to make sense of the change, but when he looked at her fully he found a pair of cinnamon eyes staring back at him. That was definitely not Cho.
Her hair was down in curls and a mask covered the majority of her soft face. He looked down and found that he was dressed in his costume from the Masquerade ball. He looked into her eyes again and claimed her lips with his. This kiss was different . . . softer and less rushed. Tender, almost.
He felt her trying to pull away so he moved his hands to her face to hold her face to hold her more securely against him. She seemed very eager to end the kiss. He felt warm droplets on his cheeks and he pulled back. She was crying.
"`Mione . . ." he mumbled. She was shaking her head, looking anywhere but him. "`Mione tell me what's wrong."
She looked up to him and his heart broke. Her cheeks were stained with rolling tears and her shoulders were shaking. "I trusted you." She mumbled, "I trusted you and you b-betrayed me!"
The last sentence left Harry so shell-shocked that he didn't even notice her moving away from him until she was well into the crowd. He followed her, trying to find her among the many masked guests. It was a difficult task, certainly. He reached the end of the room and found a door slightly ajar and followed the dark corridor within.
He heard sobs from in front of him. He broke into a sprint to find the source of the broken noise. He noticed a figure against a wall, leaning up against it for support. He did this. He made her cry. But why . . . how?
He slowed down his steps and tried to walk silently as to not disturb her and set her off again. He was right behind her and could see the white material of her dress cling to her shaking body. She looked so frail and weak . . . and it was all his fault. But what did he do?
He placed his hand on her shoulder instinctively and she jumped from surprise at the contact. She turned around quickly and met his gaze. Her tears were still running freely down her face and they seemed to be pouring out at a quicker rate than before. Harry reached up and brushed the tears away with his thumb, she flinched but didn't restrain from the contact. He found himself begin to smile until he notice her body start to fade. She was gone.
Harry woke up with a start. His breathing ragged and sweat making his nightshirt stick to his upper body. He looked around the room and let out a breath of relief. It had only been a dream. A nightmare. A nightmare which made absolutely no sense . . . He glanced at the clock beside his bed and sighed. Four A.M.
Well there's no use going back to bed now, he thought as he pulled off his duvet. He quickly slipped into some trainers at the foot of his bed and began to walk out of the dorm. He listened for the snoring from his classmate's beds and quietly opened the door.
He made his way through the familiar dungeons lit with the enchanted green flames. Kind of eerie once you think about it; but he was used to it by now. The empty corridors didn't have much effect on him, either. This path was too familiar to shiver at the darkness and cold chill that came from the charms in effect. Harry walked the many staircases until he found the entrance to his getaway. He sighed in content.
He climbed the last of the stairs with ease as he pushed open the wooden door. It squeaked loudly and he cringed at the high sound. The cool air had a calming effect on his still sweat-stained body. It didn't feel like early February to him. He placed his hands on the edge of the tower and looked down at the dew covered grass below. Harry turned around and leant up against the hard surface. He didn't even have any time to react when he saw a figure on the other side of the tower.
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