JKR owns.
Just Decide
Chapter One
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Another fic! Book 7 spoilers- but I'm ignoring that stupid epilogue. Again, this fic is something I haven't tried before. I hope it's up to par :]
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(July 31st; midnight)
"Ha! I made it again! Drink!"
"This isn't fair…" Hermione moaned, tilting her head away from the shot glass Harry was filling up in front of her.
Harry and Hermione were sitting next to each other at a muggle pub on the outskirts of London. Their booth was near the back of the pub, and facing away from the bar, so they hadn't been disturbed all night.
After about three hours, Hermione had done what she had promised, and drank down every hard liquor Harry had put in front of her. Even though it was muggle alcohol, Hermione was still completely pissed.
Harry was having the best time he'd had in a very long time.
"Rules are rules, Hermione. Now drink!" Harry lifted the glass of rum before her lips.
"You're using magic," she accused nimbly, still taking the glass.
Harry gave her a silly smile as she put the glass to her lips and tipped it back. She cringed as the liquid poured down her throat.
"Even if I have been using magic, you're still bloody awful at this game."
"I'm improving," she mumbled, trying to bounce another knut into the glass of beer in the middle of the table. The coin nicked against the table before flying to the left, missing the mug entirely.
Harry and Hermione glanced at each other before breaking out into a fit of laughter. Once their hysterics had died down to hushed giggles, Harry lifted his beer to his lips.
He frowned suddenly, "Bugger."
"Wha's wrong?" asked Hermione, leaning her head on Harry's shoulder. She had been becoming less and less stable as the night progressed.
"I'm tapped out."
"Aww, poor little Harry," Hermione cooed, pinching Harry's cheek.
"I guess this means that this place is no good to us anymore…"
"Oi!" a deep, grumpy voice sounded from behind their booth. Harry and Hermione peeked their heads around the seat to see who it was. Harry didn't miss how Hermione was practically on top of him, her hand braced firmly on his upper thigh. Suddenly the deep, grumpy voice became less interesting to him.
"We're closing up!"
"I bet you he read our minds or something," Hermione whispered to Harry as she was drawing back. Harry, however, was still focused on Hermione's hand.
Hermione followed his stare. "Oh, sorry…" she muttered, instantly blushing.
Harry didn't say anything, just looked up into her warm face. She looked absolutely gorgeous, even in a drunken stupor.
"Er, so should we get going?"
"Where?"
Hermione shrugged, "I dunno. Somewhere."
"'Kay." Harry led the way out of the booth and held a hand out for Hermione to take, knowing she'd probably need one. Realistically, she needed a few, because she ended up balancing her entire body against Harry's side.
Since their drinks had already been paid for, the grumpy bartender didn't bother them as they made their way out of the empty pub.
Outside, they were met with a midnight chill, so Hermione pressed deeper into Harry's embrace. He led the way across the street, and into the small neighborhood park.
"Park's so gloomy at night…" Hermione mumbled into Harry's chest.
"I'll protect you from them."
Hermione gasped, but Harry continued walking them forward, "From who?"
"I see dead people," Harry whispered to her eerily.
Hermione's glossy, faded eyes went wide, "Where?"
Harry pretended to look from side to side. "THERE!" he yelled suddenly, grabbing Hermione tightly.
"AHH!" Hermione screamed, jumping further into Harry's arms and wrapping her arms around his neck.
Harry howled with laughter, almost to the point of tears. Hermione drew her hands back from him with a stricken look on her face.
"Oh…"
Harry was on the ground now, holding his sides and rolling with hysterics.
"That was so not funny," Hermione continued, glaring daggers at him.
Harry pointed up at her while snickering, "You should have seen the look on your face!"
"The only reason I'm not killing you really hard right now, is because it's your birthday."
"Thank Merlin. I'd hate to go home with a few scratches on me."
Hermione's face dropped instantly. Her eyes went livid. Before Harry could get another word out, she dropped over him with her fists curled.
"Ah!" Harry shouted as Hermione's tiny hands started pounding into him, "Stop, you're tickling me!"
Harry managed to turn over, hoping to get a better a view of things when he stopped dead. Hermione was straddling him. His arms dropped from his face.
Hermione took advantaged of his dazed expression, and pinned his arms down. "Say you're sorry."
Harry didn't say anything and continued to stare at her. His heart was beating so fast, he thought that if he wasted any oxygen to say anything, then he'd pass out. He didn't think he would ever get the picture of Hermione looking down upon him, her tiny hands pressing down against him, out of his mind.
She shook him, "Say it!"
"S-Sorry…" Harry answered, starting to piece his mind back together.
Hermione grinned, "That's right."
Harry, too, smiled cheekily, "Not."
Hermione's face dropped instantly again. Before he could move a muscle, or even recognize Hermione's movements, she lifted her fist and punched him on the cheek.
Harry grabbed his jaw and stared up at Hermione in shock, "You hit me!"
She smirked triumphantly, "It hurts, doesn't it?"
Harry gave his jaw another rub, "Not at all."
Again, she glared at him, her mouth parted. Harry didn't know why, but that look in particular sparked something within him. He pushed himself up, his eyes trained on her lips, right as Hermione slid off him. Wobbling, she stood up.
"You're insufferable," she muttered, wiping off her knees. "I'm going home."
Harry frowned, seriously worried that he might have offended her.
"'Ey! You can't go home! It's still my birthday!"
"Happy bloody birthday…" she grumbled, stalking off across the lawn.
Harry scrambled to get up, feeling extremely light-headed as he did so, "Hermione! Hermione, wait."
Fortunately, Hermione did stop. Harry jogged up to her and grabbed onto her hand.
"Oh no…" she whispered blankly.
"Wha's sa matta?" Harry asked, pressing his other hand against his jaw. It did sort of hurt.
Hermione shook her head, "I can't go home…"
"Why not?"
"My parents…"
Harry chuckled, "I guess you gotta sleep in the park tonight!"
Hermione jumped as if she was startled, "No, don't leave me in the park! I can't sleep with dead people around!"
She threw her arms around Harry's neck and buried her head in his shoulder. Harry's heart pounded as he inhaled the scent from her hair. Vanilla and mint. Now he was definitely one step closer to passing out.
"I guess you could come back to my flat…"
Hermione didn't move from his neck, "That's a better idea."
Her hot breath against him was making all of his blood run south. He wasn't sure if he'd be embarrassed or not if Hermione started to feel his hard on. He could just say he was drunk…
Harry pulled her arms from around his neck, but held on to her left hand, "C'mon then. It's close…"
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Harry's flat was just a few blocks away, in a more rural area of London. He had his private stairwell entry connected to an abandoned alley. It all seemed very Harry-ish. Or at least the Harry as of late; the one who liked his alone time.
Hermione had only been inside the flat once when Harry first bought it. It had been a brief visit with Ron, but what she remembered of the place was that it was beautiful inside.
Hermione stayed pressed against his shoulder as Harry opened the door and led them inside. He snapped, and the apartment instantly lit up.
"Jeez Harry…" Hermione said, getting a clear view of his spacious flat, covered in dirty laundry, garbage, pizza boxes, and quite a few firewhiskey bottles. She looked at him and nodded, "I like what you've done with the place."
"Er, yeah… I haven't had a lot of time to clean lately," he explained lamely, scratching at the back of his head.
Hermione frowned, "Really? What have you been doing?"
"You know, going out and stuff…"
For the past few weeks, every time Hermione and Ron invited Harry out or over to the Burrow, he had begged off saying he was decorating his flat. Every time they offered to come over and help, he said that he was tired and that he was just going to clean up and go to bed. Well, now she knew why he'd been so evasive. By the look on Hermione's face, she wasn't happy about the revelation at all.
"Gotten lucky with any girls, yet?" Hermione spat, more bitterly than the light tease she had intended.
Harry blinked repeatedly, "Hermione, it's not like that at all." And it wasn't. Honestly, all he had done was go out drinking. He'd met a few new muggle friends that he'd seen and hung out with over the weeks. There had been a couple cute girls also, but he hadn't done anything with them beyond kissing. It wasn't like he had brought any of them home with him. He wished he was capable of being so shallow.
Hermione looked embarrassed, "Er, right… so…"
"There's some clothes in my room that you can sleep in," Harry said, a little bashfully. He wasn't sure how he would react to seeing Hermione in his larger clothes, but he still had to offer.
"Where's your room?" Hermione asked enthusiastically.
"I thought you were the smartest witch of your age?" Harry jeered, crossing his arms across his chest.
Hermione scowled at him, "Harry…"
He laughed, "Alright, alright… I don't want you to tickle me again…"
Hermione used all her muscle to shove him as hard as possible. Gallingly, he barely had to take a step back. He flashed her a cheeky grin before she huffed and walked off into his flat. Just as she was about to open one door, Harry came up from behind her and grabbed her hand.
"It's this way, Sherlock." Harry tugged her down the hallway and passed an open library office that still looked like it was under construction. At the end of the corridor was a set of double doors. Harry led her straight through them.
His room looked much like the rest of the flat; an unkempt mess. Hermione didn't complain though. She loved the look of it- mostly because it was all so Harry.
Harry let go of her hand and walked to his closet in the corner. He took one of his old quidditch shirts off the hanger and then pulled out a pair of his black boxer briefs from his dresser. He handed them to Hermione.
"Here you go."
"Spank you," she said with a charming grin, her good mood inspired by the surroundings. Harry laughed and stood, watching her. He could feel the closeness already starting to strangle him.
Hermione set the clothes down on the bed and had just grabbed the hem of her blouse when she glanced back up to Harry.
"Turn around!"
"Okay…" Harry murmured, not moving an inch. Hermione didn't notice, and turned, facing the bed again.
If Harry thought he was going to pass out at the park, he was going to have a heart attack watching Hermione slowly lifting her shirt off her body. Every inch revealed was a new piece of skin to study and eventually dream about. Oh how he wanted her…
She struggled a bit trying to pull the shirt over her head, and for a moment Harry contemplated offering to help. He decided not to; after all he wasn't supposed to be watching.
Now that her top was completely gone, Harry recognized the strap hooked around her back was her bra. It was black. Might as well have been a Viagra pill.
Next, Harry heard Hermione unzipping and unbuttoning her jeans. He wished he could have done it for her, but the desire was forgotten as she began pushing her pants down her hips. If Harry thought he was going to have a heart attack watching her take off her top, then he was going to have both lungs fail watching her struggle with her pants.
Holy shit. Her knickers were black, too…
Just as she kicked her jeans off, she half glanced over her shoulder, not really looking, but acknowledging.
"Are you watching me?"
Harry couldn't bare to take his eyes off her, much less be embarrassed by her discovery.
"Yeah."
Hermione turned her head back and was quiet. For a long moment, Harry thought she was going to accuse him of being a pervert or something. But to his jaw-dropping pleasure, she turned around to face him.
"Do you like what you see?"
There weren't words to describe how he was feeling, or how hot and sexy Hermione looked. He knew he was going to sound like a fool either way, "A lot."
Hermione's cheeks tinged, yet she smiled. A few seconds passed before she shook her head and whispered, "I'm not ready to show him…"
Harry was slowly starting to work his eyes down her body, "Show who what?"
"I'm not ready to show Ron my body."
Her statement made Harry look up into her eyes. She looked uncomfortable even mentioning him, but maybe it was just the alcohol.
"Then don't. Ever."
"He says he's had feelings for me ever since fourth year. And that he's loved me so long that he thinks it's time to take the next step in our relationship… or something like that…"
"I wanted to kiss you in third year," Harry told her unabashedly. Since they were drunk, he might as well get some things out of his system… "When me and you were waiting for Lupin to turn into a werewolf."
"You did?" Hermione asked with a smile.
Harry nodded, "So bad."
"I wanted you to."
"Really?"
"Yes. You really became my best friend that night. I thought it would have been so romantic." Her eyes half-closed, as if remembering the night five years ago. Everything was much less complicated back then.
The silence engulfed them both for a while before Harry broke it with a laugh, "You know what this means?"
"You've like me longer than Ron," Hermione let out a laugh too.
"You're showing me you're body," Harry said quietly, after another pause.
Hermione stared into his eyes, "You weren't supposed to look."
Not even realizing it, Harry took a step towards her, "Are you mad at me?"
"No."
"Then I'm glad I did."
"I'm glad you like me."
He was surprised by her answer. By now, he couldn't control his tongue, "You're so sexy, 'Mione…"
"I am?" she asked, giving him a humbled look.
"So sexy…"
She smiled, "Thanks. You are too."
"You're just saying that 'cause I said it."
Hermione shook her head, "No, no, you really are. Everyone knows it."
"I only care that you think so. Your opinion's all that matters," Harry finished, giving her an intense look. A shiver ran up her spine, and she was spurred to say more.
"I have a lot of opinions," she muttered unthinkingly.
"About me?" Harry was only an inch away from her now. He was tracing a finger over the faint scar on her shoulder that she received at the Malfoy Mansion last spring.
Hermione's eyes drifted close, "They all revolve around you."
Without realizing, he bent down and kissed the scar, "Are they good?"
"They confuse me."
"Sorry."
"I don't know why I'm always thinking about you, Harry," she finally admitted, unwilling to open her eyes.
He laid a path of kisses from the scar, to the crook of her neck, "I think about you every minute."
"Why?"
Harry shrugged simply, "Because I don't want to think about anyone else."
"All I want is for you to be happy," she whispered, revealing another secret.
Harry's heart swelled. She was so beautiful; inside, out. "Right now, I'm the happiest I've been in a really, really long time."
Hermione let out a sigh as Harry sucked on her pulse point, "Because of me?"
"It's always because of you."
Harry kissed his way up to below her earlobe and then across her cheek. When he reached the corner of her lips, he opened his eyes and pulled away slightly. He wouldn't continue unless she wanted him to.
Hermione opened her eyes, the foggy haze gone from them. They stared at each other for the longest time before Harry felt a slight tugging coming from the center of his chest. He glanced downward.
It was Hermione's hand, pulling on his t-shirt.
Harry looked up again. When he met Hermione's eyes, he was also met with the burning, apparent desire blooming there. His nose was already pressing against her cheek. But he didn't kiss her.
Harry grazed his hands up her bare waist, staring into her eyes the entire time. When they passed over the sides of her breast, Hermione's eyes flickered slightly. Delicately, he slid down the straps of her bra and waited for her to make the next move.
Hermione bent her head down, and for a second Harry thought she was going to push away from him. Though, to his immense please, she worked her hands behind her and a second later, her bra fell to the floor. Shyly, Hermione looked back to him.
Her shy, insecure look was even sexier than her lusting one.
Harry didn't wait another second. He leaned in and kissed her on the lips.
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