A/N: The response was overwhelming for a filler. Thanks guys! Here is the second installment, and it isn't over yet! Reviews are always appreciated! Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Confessions and Worries
Neither of them slept that night, Harry would find out later.
He had to admit, he got a little worried when he did not see her in the Gryffindor Common Room. She always waited for Ron and him to get to breakfast.
This time, she was neither here nor there. So he went to the next place where he had the highest chances of finding her.
His instincts did not fail. She was hiding in a library corner, and had apparently fallen asleep while reading.
He knew that she would want to probably avoid him after last night; he could not blame her. He had taken the liberty to kiss her and then had left in a hurry. And however he might justify it in his mind, telling himself that he was not supposed to be doing that, she did not deserve that. He knew her too well and he knew that she would fail to understand his reasons for avoiding her since she had gotten wounded, even though they had been pretty obvious last night.
His hand was trembling as it lay on her shoulder, squeezing it gently.
If she did not want to speak to him, that was fine with him. He deserved it. But he had to know that she was all right, that her wound was not causing pain right now. Or at least that is what he told himself, not admitting of course, that part of the reason he wanted her to look into his eyes was that he wanted to see last night's reaction. He wanted to know why she had returned his kiss.
As soon as his hand touched her shoulder, Hermione winced, letting out a moan, her body stirring.
His hand automatically went to lift her blouse. Her wound was probably bothering her.
He gasped as her eyes suddenly opened, her body falling numb against his, her breathing erratic. Her wound was at work.
He wrapped his arms around her instinctively, making soothing noises as he did so.
She took a deep breath, and Harry never felt tears wetting his uniform. That usually was not a good sign; it meant she was fighting the pain. Out of what reason, he did not know, but that usually caused her more stress. He did not want that for her.
She was the one that pulled away first, her tear stained face, bloodshot eyes, and the bags under them a sure sign that her night had been as bad as his.
He sighed. He had to apologize, sooner rather than later.
"Hermione, I-"
She did not let him finish however. No sooner had he started speaking, he felt her hand hit his face…hard.
"How dare you?" she whispered, the tears that she had not shed for the pain flowing freely down her face now.
His breath hitched. He had never seen her that mad, that hurt. And only he was to blame.
"Hermione, I'm-"
"Why did you do it?"
She undoubtedly was talking about the kiss, not his soothing gesture earlier. Harry was also aware that she was not completely relaxed, that her wound was still probably pulsating, because the relaxation and tears of defeat that regularly numbed the pain had not come, not because of the pain anyway. Harry resolved then, that he should do whatever it took to not heighten her stress that morning, which he was sure that her lack of sleep was intensifying as it was. But he had to be truthful, he owed her that. And that somber, almost vulnerable expression that her eyes were giving him, despite the streak of anger that had been present right after the slap, was his undoing. He was frankly tired of walking on eggshells, and looking at her that morning, he knew he would do whatever she asked. She was stressed out because of him, and last night, he hadn't done a good job of calming her down. He would make up for it as he apologized, knowing he probably could not do it without admitting why he did it in the first place. He had wanted to kiss her, had wanted to for ages. He had just rationalized that doing it, he was answering her question in some weird exercise of twisted logic. That was what had gotten him into this mess; because that wasn't the answer he was supposed to give her.
"Isn't it…obvious?" he whispered carefully. Would she get it? Hermione was smart enough to connect the dots. But he had forgotten how low she thought of herself when it came to matters that had nothing to do with her unbeatable intelligence.
"Obvious? Oh, I see."
Harry flinched, both with relief and dread. Would she connect the dots, and if so, how would she react? It was a reaction he had waited for years to hear, but would it be what he wanted to hear?
Unfortunately for him, Hermione did connect the dots, her own way, and her reaction, suffice to say, took him by surprise.
"Did you think you could get off the hook like that, leave me arguing alone, just like you've done since the end of Fifth Year? I said I could take a hint Harry, but I am not about to let you insult me-"
"Hermione, I didn't-" Harry interrupted her. This was not quite going as he hoped. However, before he could explain himself, Hermione let him know that she was not finished. Not even close.
"Did you think that's what I wanted you for? Why I have stayed by your side all these years? Oh, maybe he'll notice me after nearly seven years by his side, will notice I'm a girl and then I can finally say to all my gossipy friends, if I can find them in my lengthy list, that is, Harry Potter kissed me!"
"Hermione, I didn't-" Alarms were going off in Harry's head. How on earth had she gotten that impression? And did she have "gossipy" friends? Since when? He was trying so hard to figure out where her reaction was coming from and how he had insulted her that he did not realize Hermione was using sarcasm. But she still had not finished.
"Well, that's a terribly shallow perception, but now that we're on the topic, let me just say what an amazing honor it was for Harry Potter to give me my first kiss."
"You've never been-"
"And then run away as if a Dementor was chasing him. Let me tell you, that does great wonders for a girl's self-esteem," Hermione finished whispering defiantly, meeting his eyes. She sighed and lowered her gaze. She could not look into his eyes and remain angry for long, not within the eyes that she could always get lost in. She gulped, trying to steady the torrent of emotions that was threatening to surface. She had tried, had tried her hardest, to make her concern seem as if it was purely a friendship, platonic concern. Had he seen right through her then? She did not even want to think of how stupid she must have seen if he did…
"But I thought…didn't you and Ron?"
"There was never a me and Ron."
If Harry was not mistaken, Hermione sounded outraged. Or was it his imagination, hoping?
"We both know that the only reason that I am friends with Ron is because I am friends with you."
Harry sighed. He had never seen it that way. Ron had been the first person he had met on the train to Hogwarts. And then, she had found her way into their compartment, and, he supposed, she considered Ron a friend by association, if she was putting it that way, because he, Harry, had been the first one she had met, had truly acknowledged.
He knew that Ron had fancied her, at least at one point. Now no one could tear Ron away from Luna now, much to Harry's unvoiced relief. However, before the blonde had caught Ron's eye, Harry figured that, much to his dismay, Hermione had given in to his charms. He always saw them together, whispering amongst themselves when they thought he was not around. To Harry, it had seen like such an intimate gesture…he felt a pang of guilt when he realized that he felt relieved that Hermione had not been touched by his best friend.
His silence prompted Hermione to continue speaking.
"I thought our friendship meant more to you. At least it meant a lot to me. I never realized you had that impression of me."
"Hermione, I don't-"
"If you wanted me out, you could have just said so. I would have given you my help anyway. You are our only hope against Voldemort, you know that." She sniffled, much to her dismay. She did not want for him to see her weak, this undone, because of him, especially now, when she might have possibly discovered the cause of his avoidance.
"Hermione-"
"Here is my latest research on the Horocruxes. I hope it helps," she whispered, then stood up as fast as her body would let her.
Good thing Harry had Seeker reflexes.
"Hold it!" he grasped her wrist before she could take two steps away from him. It took all his power to not growl in fury. How could she think that? How could she think that he did not value her as a friend, when she was so much more to him? Had he been that bad of a friend?
Well, I think last night topped it. He had to apologize, but had to make her hear him for that to happen, an unsuccessful attempt so far.
"Harry, please let go," she whispered. She just wanted to go to her room and bury herself against her pillow. She suddenly was too tired to be angry, too tired to fight, and frankly, too tired to care about what he was going to say.
"No. So far you have done all the talking and come up with some very interesting, if unfounded, assessments."
"Unfounded? Hardly." Hermione should have been outraged at his allegation, but after her confession, she was too hurt to feel anything else. After all, having him as a friend was better than not having him at all. And now she was on the verge of losing that too, although she supposed she had lost it ever since the beginning of Sixth Year, the beginning of his avoiding streaks…
"Yes, unfounded." He refused to let go of her. This was his chance, his chance to explain it all, and he would, if he did not want to lose her. Now how to put it without screwing it up, admitting that he felt much more than friendship toward her? Admitting that his feelings had become clear the day he almost lost her in the Department of Mysteries? Admit that such was the reason for his avoidance?
"What else am I supposed to think Harry? You avoid me like the plague, then kiss me out of the blue in the middle of an argument, pull away when I kiss you back, and run away as if you were running from Voldemort's wand. I ask you again, what am I supposed to think? Am I supposed to thank my lucky stars for this?" Hermione whispered, trying to keep her tears at bay while also taking deep breaths to steady herself. She did not need her wound bothering her right now.
"I was scared Hermione," he whispered, softening his hold of her wrist. It was not his smoothest statement, but it was honest. That was at least a good start; she deserved honest.
Hermione scoffed.
"Did you think I would have hexed you? Honestly Harry-"
"I wish you had."
"What?" Hermione's eyebrows could have reached the library's ceiling. What did he mean? What could he mean?
"That way, perhaps I would not have the urge to do it again." Harry wanted to hit himself mentally in the head. He was not supposed to say these things! What he wanted did not matter! What mattered was her safety. Besides, what would happen if she did not feel the same way? Would their friendship survive, after his unwise declaration?
"Harry, what are you saying?" she asked in a whisper. She had her suspicions, but she wanted him, needed him to say it straightforwardly.
Hermione was surprised at how suddenly Harry's hand snapped from her wrist. She could not help but look at him questioningly. One minute it seemed like he was opening up to her for the first time since the end of Fifth Year. Now, he seemingly appeared closed inside his own world once more.
"Go," he whispered. It was safer that way, he realized, for her to draw her own conclusions, to despise him even. This whole thing had been a mistake, a careless mistake for which he had only his heart to blame. But he would keep her safe for as long as he could, even if he only gained her hatred for it.
"What? Harry-" she whispered pleadingly. But Harry knew this was for her own good, as much as her reaction pained him.
"You obviously don't want to be here with me. You asked me to let go of you earlier. And I cannot blame you. I apologize if it seemed like I used you. I never meant for that to be your impression Hermione. I care about you a great deal. And I know that you were not with me merely for a kiss. In fact, I know you did not want it. And it was selfish of me to do so." That was as good as an apology as she was going to get. It was the truth, although not the complete version, but for her safety, all he was willing to give.
"Do what Harry?" Hermione was lost once more. Harry's turmoil was never easy to deal with, much less with this kind of awkward conversation. Not to mention she really wanted to be sure he regretted the kiss. Last night's kiss, despite never having been kissed before, did not feel cold or withdrawn , and she had dared to hope, hope that he had wanted it as much as she had.
"I know you didn't want me to kiss you."
"I didn't?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. She had kissed him back. Hadn't he picked up on that?
"I am sorry I did it. But I didn't do it to cut you off."
Hermione tried not to wince as the pain returned, although not because of her wand , but the kind that trampled her hope. He said he was sorry, but the end of the sentence, for her sanity's sake, was the one thing that could overcome the pain. Curiosity after all, was something that she always had had within her. To these days, Hermione did not know if such a thing was a blessing or a curse, and now seemed hardly the moment to debate the matter.
"Why did you do it, Harry?" she whispered.
"I wanted…I can't have you."
"You keep saying that. What do you want? What can't you have?"
Seeking comfort, Harry had not noticed that he had taken hold of Hermione's hand again, and was now caressing her knuckles.
Hermione's hand gave an involuntary spasm as she felt Harry's subtle caress.
Suffice to say, that was all the response Harry needed to let her go.
She would never want him like that. How could she? All he ever did was get her in trouble.
And that would work well for him. Voldemort could not be allowed to get to her. She was too precious for him. And if that meant suppressing his longing for her, then so be it.
Easier said than done, however.
Again, Hermione looked at him questioningly when his hand jolted away from her, as if running away from a raging fire. It was then that she noticed he would not look at her.
"Harry, are you all right? What's going on?" Hermione sighed. This cat and mouse game was turning out to be slightly annoying. What wasn't he telling her?
"I better go," he mumbled.
But Hermione would not budge. She was going to get to the bottom of this today, if she wanted to get any sleep tonight.
"No! Talk to me." Her hand went to his jaw, trying to get him to raise his eyes, to gaze upon her once more.
He knew he should not be doing it, but he leaned involuntarily against her caress. Her hand was so soft, he could not resist. Her pull was like the sheer pull of gravity for him.
He sighed against her hand, his own palm coming to rest on it, caressing its back.
"What's wrong? Does your scar hurt?" Hermione was puzzled once more. One minute he was running away from her, the next he was caressing the back of her hand, his face glued to it.
She sighed. At least she had prevented him from running away. That was a start. Now how to convince him to confide in her the way he used to? If his scar hurt, that meant Voldemort was prowling once again inside him. And if that was the case, he needed help. No matter how much he kept denying it, he needed someone. And she wanted to be that someone. But she had to be tactful in her approach.
Hermione's other hand went to his forehead, moving his untidy hair away from the scar, her touch lingering.
Harry sighed, almost emitting an involuntary groan. Her touch was just as intoxicating as her lips had been. And he was enjoying every single minute of it, which was exactly what he should not have been doing. He had better get out now, while he still could.
Hermione noticed his hesitation, his sudden tenseness.
"Harry, please tell me what's bothering you. I just want to help," she pleaded once more.
Suddenly, Hermione's breath hitched as her hand went out of Harry's cheek and straight to his lips.
Before he knew it, he was kissing her palm, his hand still holding the back of hers. Her pull was too strong. He did not want to get out of her sudden affectionate gestures, not now that he knew what she tasted like, like cinnamon and honey, not now that his longing had seemingly multiplied tenfold.
They were feather-light kisses, and his hand had a gentle hold of her own, giving her free reign to remove her hand at any time. But Hermione found that she did not want to.
In fact, she wanted more.
He only had time to look at her, a look of puzzlement evident in his eyes, before her lips had replaced her hand on his cheek, and then, went to part in his mouth.
Harry's body shifted from a dazed composure to a rigid, alert one. What was going on here?
One minute, he was resolved to get out of the library, of any place that brought him near her, and the next, his best friend, the girl he had wanted since before he could remember, had her lips parted against his.
Could it really be true? Could this really be happening?
He felt Hermione's hands hesitantly take hold of his shoulders before going to rest around his neck, her tongue hesitantly meeting Harry's lips.
And that was when he lost all control.
His hands found her waist, pulling her firmly against him while his mouth opened over hers.
He groaned as he felt Hermione whimper against his mouth, their tongues now dueling for control. He still could not believe it was happening, and despite his attempt to stay away from her, he found he lacked both the strength and the desire to pull away.
Their passionate embrace lasted as long as it could, until the lack of oxygen pulled them apart.
Hermione sighed, afraid to look into his eyes, afraid that he would run away, like last night. She settled for laying her head on his shoulder, her arms still around his neck. She should have thought about this, should have thought that their friendship, which was hanging by a thread as it was. It could go down in flames as she expressed her true feelings for the green eyed wizard. But his light kisses on her hand had been her undoing. She had wanted to kiss him ever since she had been brought back after been petrified during Second Year. It had been a yearning slowly building inside her, dismissed as a simple crush on his fame, on his admiring bravery, as the hero who had saved her from that Troll, but as the years passed by, she could not deny it any longer. And now she knew how he tasted, how the musky smell of parchment and fresh cut grass mingled with the taste of pumpkin juice and lemon drops, no doubt from Dumbledore's office, on his lips. Since her discovery, she had been dying to kiss him again, to see his proper response, and hoping he did not run away.
His arms went from her waist to her lower back, holding her as close as he could.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Don't be," Hermione pleaded. Was he truly sorry to kiss her? Then why had he responded to her kiss?
"We can't do this. I can't do this."
"Why-oh no. I made you cheat on Ginny," Hermione whispered, pulling away. "It's best that I go."
She could not believe that she had not thought of her dear red haired friend while she attempted to snog her boyfriend. The terrible feeling of guilt swept upon her, especially since she realized she was dying to kiss Harry again. That was why she had to get away. She would not be responsible for ruining their relationship.
"No, Hermione don't." He grabbed her wrist again.
"What now?" Hermione turned around, fresh tears staining her face. Why was he making this more difficult than it already was?
"This is not about Ginny," he whispered. He felt horrible about the way he easily dismissed his girlfriend, but it was true. Hermione had been right last night; he did not want to be with Ginny. And now he would admit it to the object of his affection, her kiss giving him courage.
"You are still with her Harry, and she doesn't deserve this. I'm sorry."
"You are right. She doesn't. I'll break up with her."
"What? Why?" His statement truly caught Hermone off guard. Could it be? Could he care for her as much as she cared about him?
"As you say, she doesn't deserve this."
"I know." Hermione tried to push the pain away once more. He had not said he cared about her as more than a friend, merely that he felt like a cheater and that his girlfriend did not deserve infidelity. A noble gesture, but not what she wanted to hear, much to her dismay and overwhelming sense of guilt. "That's why I'm leaving and apologizing to her first thing-"
"Hermione, let's go over this one more time. I DON'T want you to leave, and I'll talk to Ginny later. I'll give her the treatment she deserves, but I'm not running away from you this time."
"All right," Hermione whispered, fresh hope welling inside of her before she could stop it. . "Are you going to tell me what's been going on then?"
"It's you. It's always been you," Harry whispered in resignation. There was no hiding the truth now, not after he had kissed her like that, not after he admitted he would break up with Ginny for her.
"What do you mean, Harry?" Hermione whispered, afraid he would correct himself at any moment.
"I tried to deny it, I really did. After all, what kind of girl would want the guy who always gets her in trouble? The guy who almost…killed her?"
"Oh Harry-" Hermione tried to reassure him, reassure him that the incident at the Department of Mysteries had not been his fault, but he would not let her speak.
"Then, I realized, it didn't really matter, because even if I managed to save you, I'm afraid it's Neville who deserves the credit, however, but even if you were saved, somebody else would make sure that next time you didn't get so lucky."
"Harry-"
"It was then that I realized that I had to make sure there wouldn't be a next time."
"Harry-"
"But I knew what you would say. Just what you said last night, you would do it again in a heartbeat. You are so amazing Hermione. You put about other people first, ahead of your own safety. But you forget that by caring about other people, the one that becomes vulnerable is you."
`Harry, please-"
"So you see, I had to take care of you, to make sure he didn't touch you, because you mean so much to me you see-"
"Harry-" Hermione was getting too impatient. She wanted to listen to him, but he was punishing himself. She could not let that happen, not even if this was the confession she had wanted to hear for so long.
But Harry wasn't giving up.
"-And he knows that. I have seen it in my nightmares. That's why Occlumency is such a drag. I just can't get you out of my mind. So I figured the safest way to keep you alive was to shut you out; make you think I just didn't care about you anymore. That way, someday, I would begin to believe it myself. And I figured that it would be better for you to be mad at me, but safe, than happy with me, if you ever could be, and dead."
"Oh Harry-"
"I'm sorry Hermione; I'm so sorry. You deserve so much more, but I have lost so many people in my lifetime, so many people that were and still are so dear to me. I just…couldn't lose you too." Harry lowered his head. Hermione could tell that he just did not want her to see him cry; something to do with the male sex being invincible. But he did not need to pretend in front of her.
"It's okay," Hermione whispered, enveloping him in a hug before he even had a chance to react.
His arms tightened around her, as if holding on to her for dear life, and he let out a shaky breath, clear sign that he had been shedding tears.
"You'll never lose me," she whispered. "I'll be with you every step of the way."
"That's just it! I don't want you to be. It's my fight." Harry struggled to make a clear statement when his emotions were a mess. He had to finish Voldemort and he had to do so alone. He did not want to lose anyone else, much less her.
"That's where you are wrong Harry. It was never your fight. That's why Voldemort is losing, that is why he is desperate. He's got people with him out of fear, not genuine appreciation. You, on the other hand, you have people who love you, and he doesn't understand that."
"And look where it's gotten them so far!" His scream got muffled as his head was lying on her shoulder. His back would surely hurt later, but right now he did not care. He just wanted to hold her close. He did not know when this would happen again, or even if she felt the same way he did about her. He did not want her kissing him just because she felt sorry for him.
"They died for a cause, and they would do it again without hesitation. And so would I," she whispered, taking the liberty to kiss his cheek before she became fully aware of what she was doing.
He was still with Ginny for Merlin's sake!
But she did not get a chance to back away and apologize, because as soon as she became aware that her lips could not be where they presently were, Harry's mouth was on hers.
His kiss was not demanding, it was a soft feather-light caress, but a firm one at that. Nevertheless, she realized that she could break it at any time. And she should have, given the fact that the "talk with Ginny" had never taken place. And where was this leading?
Could Harry really love her or was he so overwhelmed by the prospect of facing Voldemort that he was looking for comfort? One thing was for sure: when his tongue hesitantly asked for permission, she could not refuse.
Hermione moaned when his tongue caressed hers and her noise made Harry's heart skip a beat. He could not believe that she was reacting this way to him, to his kiss, and his caresses.
But the thrilling sensation soon got replaced by a sense of dread. What if Voldemort were to read his thoughts right now? He had practiced Occlumency every day for the past months. Ever since she had been hit in the Department of Mysteries, he would not go through a single night without engaging in the practice of this exhausting magic. Hermione however, was the very thing that could make him vulnerable. And while right now he felt like throwing caution to the winds and holding her closer, as far as he was concerned, Hermione could do anything and everything she wanted to him, he would not let her take that risk, not for his sake.
He broke the caress as soon as he found the willpower to do so, but that did not prevent him from enveloping her in another hug, kissing her forehead as he did so.
"I'm sorry," he whispered once more.
"You keep apologizing. What for? Don't. It was my fault to begin with," she replied, her breath tickling his neck. She was aware that she had given him the first kiss. But he had said he wanted her, didn't he? Why was he apologizing for? Didn't her kisses speak for themselves?
"I cannot do this to you."
"Cannot do this to me? Last time I checked, I was kissing you back. You were not doing anything to me. At least anything I did not want," Hermione snapped. Apparently, he was as thick as ever, so she had to be bold.
"You should not want this from me." He meant it. If Voldemort were to find out…
"I'm afraid it's a little too late for that Harry. The question now should be, do you want it? What do you want from me?" Hermione asked carefully. He had told her his feelings, but only had told her that he cared for her. She wanted something more, a reassurance that they were more than friends, and that she was not someone he would kiss whenever he was seeking comfort.
"Don't ask me that," he whispered. He would not budge. He could not; he could not lose her precisely because he wanted her so much. Yet, it was too much of a temptation. She was offering him what he had wanted for so long.
"Well tough Harry, because I am asking you. It's the least you could do, don't you think?" Hermione crossed her arms.
She had the incredible urge to run to his arms again and hold on to him for dear life. Yet, she had to know how he felt and, whether she liked his answer or not, she was going to get it out of him.
"What do you want?" she whispered once more.
"Hermione-"
"Did you just kiss me for the hell of it?"
"What? I-" That's what she thought, after all the kisses they had shared that afternoon?
But Harry never got a chance to express his outrage at her sudden outburst.
"There you are! I should have known! Did you need help with your Potions essay? Hermione, don't you ever get tired of this?"
Hermione watched as Ginny Weasley put her arms around the man who had been kissing her just minutes earlier.
"I don't know why I bother," Hermione snapped, smiling thinly, but Harry could see that her smile did not reach her eyes and he could bet that her answer had nothing to do with the supposed Potions essay, which, he realized with a groan, he had to worry about later.
"Harry, let's go or we are going to be late," Ginny warned him.
Harry sighed. So much for Hermione's answer.
"Where are we going?" Harry asked.
"Remember? We promised Ron and Luna we would meet them for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron. To tell you the truth, I was hoping we would get to Hogsmeade earlier. We could have gone to that cozy little tea house-"
"I have to go," Hermione snapped once more. Truth be told, she could not bear to watch this little exchange for another minute. Not when it should have been her in his arms.
"Hermione-" Harry called after her. He had to tell her that their conversation was not finished, not by a long shot.
But Hermione was out the door without even saying goodbye before Harry had time to open his mouth.
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