All or Nothing

dragonrider

Rating: G
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 21/01/2009
Last Updated: 21/01/2009
Status: in_progress

Hermione grows tired of waiting and takes control. Just a one-shot bit of fluff written a long time ago.

Chapters

1. All or Nothing

1. All or Nothing

A/N: Just a little one-shot I found that I wrote several years ago. Hermione takes control. Oh yeah. … I own nothing. It all belongs to JKR.

ALL OR NOTHING

“That’s it!” Hermione’s exasperated voice echoed through the silent common room like a gunshot. Harry nearly jumped out of his seat. He wasn’t sure what had startled him more – the fact that she had slammed her books on the table, or that particular ‘something’ he’d heard in her voice. It wasn’t exactly anger, but a tone he knew well, all the same. It was an ‘I’ve had enough and I’m not going to take anymore’ tone.

They were alone in the common room, just the two of them, finishing a Transfiguration essay for McGonagall. The other Gryffindors had all gone to bed, each in turn. Even Ron had finally given up and dragged himself up to his dorm room. Many nights ended this way, just the two of them.

In the beginning at least, for Hermione Granger, it was simply her way – pushing herself that little extra, striving toward some sort of self-satisfying academic perfection. And Harry, well…. Sometimes she didn’t know why he stayed. She knew that he didn’t always legitimately have homework. And there were those times when he seemed to be deliberately stalling, ‘struggling’ with a last little bit as an excuse to stay. Then again, homework had sometimes become a convenient excuse for her as well. Those were the times when she waited anxiously, feeling as though there was something undisclosed, just under the surface – something waiting to reveal itself at just the right moment. But that moment never seemed to come.

Oh, they had plenty of conversations, often about deep, personal subjects. They learned a lot about one another, but there always seemed to be that boundary that couldn’t be crossed. The evening always ended with Harry packing up his things, breathing a sigh that seemed to quietly scream of something unsaid, then bidding her goodnight as he headed for the dorm, his emerald eyes downcast in a look of sad defeat.

Well, she’d had enough waiting. Tonight, come what may, she was taking matters into her own hands. She stood abruptly. Harry was clueless as to what was wrong, what had brought about her sudden outburst. But one look into those blazing dark orbs and he was certain it had something to do with him. He’d faced the “Wrath of Hermione” before, and he was more than a little wary.

“I’ve had enough, Harry James Potter!” She began circling toward him, a menacing look in her eyes. Harry stood up, began to move away. He nearly tripped over the corner of the easy chair he’d just been sitting in, grabbing the back to steady himself.

“For six years I’ve been here,” she continued, matching him step for step. She was in control, maneuvering him where she wanted. Harry suddenly found himself backed against a wall, her slender forefinger jabbing him in the chest.

“Always there, through EVERYTHING! Helping, supporting, following, saving, planning, worrying, fearing, …waiting…needing. But nothing, not the slightest hint of … anything!” She had thrown her arms up, gesturing wildly.

‘What is she going on about?’ Harry wondered silently. ‘She’s gone mad. Am I supposed to be making sense of all this?’

“All the clues were there,” she continued. “How could you not see them? How could you be so bloody blind?”

By now Harry’s head was reeling. “Hermione…” he tried.

“NO!” She stopped him abruptly. “It’s my turn. You’re going to hear me out.” She was once again jabbing a finger into his chest. “All the things… all the risks….” Her thoughts were spilling out in incomplete bits and pieces. “All the rules I broke. I could have been EXPELLED!”

She turned her back on him, took a step away, her hands on either side of her head. “All the late nights, the talks, the walks around the lake.” She turned sharply, to face him again.

“I FLEW!” she cried, her face only inches from his. “More than once! I hate flying!”

Harry winced. Yep, this definitely had something to do with him. Now if he could only figure out what it was.

“Hermione, would you…?” But she cut him off again.

“Trap doors and polyjuice potions and hippogriffs and werewolves and dementors and deatheaters….” She was rambling now, allowing years of frustration to pour out of her. And Harry was still clueless. With Hermione’s face pressed close to his, Harry found his eyes locked with hers. He noted, though not for the first time, that they burned almost black when she was angry. He noticed too how flushed her cheeks were, how deep the color was in her lips, burning with the heat of her emotion. Harry found a stray thought racing through his head. ‘God, you’re so hot when you’re raving like a lunatic.’ He couldn’t suppress a slight grin.

“Oh no you don’t, Mr. Harry Bloody Potter,” she chided. “Don’t think for a minute you’re going to placate me with that damn disarming grin. Not this time!”

Harry raised his hands defensively as she shook a tightly wrapped fist at him. He knew better than to take for granted that small, delicate looking hand. He had witnessed its power at least once before, when one Draco Malfoy had foolishly tested the “Wrath of Hermione”. Malfoy had failed that test, miserably.

By now, Hermione’s rantings had become increasingly louder, drawing the attention of those fellow housemates unfortunate enough to have rooms nearest to the Gryffindor common room. Though the pair was not aware of it, a small crowd had now gathered on the stairs to, as Seamus later put it, “watch the fireworks”. If Harry had been able to see the knowing smiles on some of those faces, he might have been surprised to find out that they seemed to have a much better idea of what Hermione was on about than he did.

“So much time,” Hermione continued on, oblivious to her audience. “Trying to make you see how much I cared.”

Harry felt his pulse quicken. ‘What did she just say? Did she mean…?’ A warm sensation took hold of the pit of his stomach, began radiating outward.

“I’d walk through fire for you and you don’t even know it.”

Harry was now staring at her, dumbfounded, his mouth gaping. ‘I do. Hermione, I do know,’ he was trying to shout at her, but no sound escaped his lips. ‘I’d do the same for you.’

“So here it is then, Mr. Harry Potter. I’m not waiting any longer. It’s all or nothing. At least I’ll know.” With that, she stepped forward, pushed him against the wall, and kissed him fiercely, still unaware of the dozen or so grinning onlookers. Harry didn’t move.

“So, that’s it then,” she said matter-of-factly. She turned on her heel, intending to walk away. Before she could actually take a step, Harry snatched her hand, pulled her to him. Their eyes locked for a moment, long enough for her to see what was in his heart, to hear him whisper, “All.” As he held her to his chest, pressed his lips to hers, they both could have sworn they heard a familiar husky voice say, “About bloody time.”

-End-