Authors Note: About a month ago, my wife told me about a story idea she had. It wasn't just an idea actually; it was an outline for an entire story that she had in her head. She had a setting, a plot and an ending, just no words, and she wanted me to write her story for her. I loved the idea immediately, and couldn't wait to start writing. If you've read my other stories, you may have noticed that I always thank her for contributing her ideas. This is different. This story is a true collaboration, her story, my words. I hope you enjoy reading it half as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please don't forget to leave a review when you're done reading so we know what you thought of it.
Also: There is a classic movie line written into the story, my wife's one and only dialogue request. I'll give a special shout out in the authors' note of my next post to any and all that can identify not only the line, but the movie it came from as well. Let me know, all you classic movie buffs.
Heat
Harry sat on the couch in the third floor walkup that he shared with Ron and Hermione, sweating profusely. The weather geek on the TV channel he was watching just said that the temperature in London, as of six PM was thirty-five degrees Celsius, with ninety-four percent humidity.
Basically, it was hotter then hell!
Harry had gotten home from work almost an hour ago. He had taken a nice long, cold shower, and changed into the shorts and tee shirt he was now wearing, but it hadn't help.
"Damn it's hot," he thought as he sat drinking a big glass of ice water.
Harry knew Ron wouldn't be coming home anytime soon. He'd just head straight over to Luna's as usual. Harry had expected Hermione to be home by now. "Must be staying late, again," he grumbled. "You work too much Hermione, wherever you are?" he called to the empty flat.
"When she gets home, we gotta get out of here," he thought. "Too hot to stay in. Hopefully I can talk her into finding a nice cool restaurant where we can get something to eat, and get out of this heat."
Just then the front door opened.
"I'm right here, so you can stop shouting. I heard you from out in the hallway, you know. And I do not work too much; I work as much as I need to, to get my job done," she admonished him.
"Okay fine, you don't work too much. What do you say we get out of here and get something to eat? Hopefully in a nice air conditioned restaurant?" he said hopefully raising his eyebrows and nodding at her.
"Sorry Harry, I can't, I have wor….things to do tonight," she told him.
"Oh come on Hermione, please!!" he begged, giving her his best sad puppy dog face.
"Don't look at me like that." she complained and swatted at him with her hand. "You know I hate it when you give me that face."
"Too hard to resist huh?" he smiled smugly, knowing he was right.
"Yes….I mean NO, I can resist it."
She was standing a few feet from him wearing a light blue summer dress that was very flattering on her. Harry looked at her closely. Hermione had gotten prettier and prettier over the years. She wasn't overly tall, about 5'4. She was fairly slim, but she still had curves. Who would have guessed that hidden under her school robes those last few years, was that figure?
Harry looked away for a second so she wouldn't catch him staring at her.
He didn't know exactly when it happened, but all he seemed to think about these days was Hermione. Everything she did drove him absolutely crazy with desire. The way she moved, the way she looked in the morning and god help him, that constantly biting her lip thing was about to push him over the edge.
He glanced back at his best friend. Her hair was now much tamer then when she was a kid. She'd finally found a way to control the frizz a couple of years back. Harry was thinking that he actually missed the frizz a bit as his mind drifted to their past.
He was brought crashing back into the present because she had just twisted her hair into a ponytail, which she flipped up, and was now holding on top of her head with her left hand. This gave her neck some air as she fanned herself with her right hand. His eyes were instantly drawn to her neck, which had one lone droplet of sweat slowly making its way down from just behind her ear.
"Damn!" he thought, and his mouth went dry.
She also had one long tendril of hair that she hadn't gathered up on top with the rest, and it was just lightly brushing her collar bone. God, he wanted to attack that neck and collar bone so badly!
"She's your friend, she's your friend, keep saying it, she's your friend," he thought over and over again as he closed his eyes.
When he opened them, she was no longer in front of him. He pivoted his head from side to side until he found her again. She was just passing the far end of the couch and looked to be heading for her room.
Harry called to her, "Hermioneeeeee," in as pleading a voice as he could manage.
She stopped, turned her head back toward him. He mouthed a soundless 'please," to her. Still holding her hair up, and killing him with all the neck she was showing, she relented.
"Fine….but I have a few things to do first, and I desperately need a shower, so you'll have to wait," she turned and continued on to her room.
"Yeah, sure, whatever."
"It could take me a good hour?" she warned.
"That's fine with me……You're the best Hermione, you know that?" he called after her.
"I can't believe the things I let you talk me into," she grumbled as she disappeared into her room. The last thing he heard before the door shut was her mumbling something about her having work to get done.
He laughed, but not to loudly, no sense pissing her off after he'd just gotten her to give in.
Harry put his glass of water down on the coffee table, hopped up, and headed for his room to find a clean shirt. He lingered in the hallway for a second when he heard Hermione turn on the shower. Despite the unbearable heat, he shutter ever so slightly. "She's your friend," he said to himself as he went through his doorway shaking his head.
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Harry took off the shirt he was wearing and lobbed it in the general vicinity of the hamper in the corner. Then he went to his dresser and found a clean tee shirt which he tossed onto the foot of his bed. He grabbed the Quidditch magazine off the top of the dresser and flopped down on the bed to read while he waited for Hermione.
About fifteen minutes later he heard the bathroom door open and then Hermione's door close. So, he threw the magazine back on the dresser, grabbed his shirt and headed for the living room. He pulled on his tee shirt as he walked, then hopped onto the couch and picked up the remote.
Hermione's door opened and out she came, wearing blue shorts and what looked like a white tank top. She had the biggest book he's ever seen open in front of her as she walked. He couldn't see her face, or ninety percent of her upper body for that matter, as it was all obliterated by the huge book, but he could see the longest, sexiest, pair of legs he'd ever laid eyes on.
"Wow, that book has great legs!" he teased.
"Shut up……..and thank you," she replied, grateful that the book was covering her blush.
"You're gonna cause a riot in the restaurant if you go in there like that!"
"You're an idiot, you know that," she said to him, but chuckled afterwards. "I told you I had things to do first, then I'll get changed," the book seemed to be saying.
"Are you serious? I'm starving." Harry whined.
Hermione peered around the book at him. "Yes, I told you I had things to do."
Her hair was up in a bun that was held together by her wand being jammed through it.
"Nice doo." He snickered at her.
She stuck out her tongue and then disappeared once again behind her book as she headed for the kitchen.
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Hermione entered the kitchen and once the door had shut, she leaned against it clutching the huge book to her chest. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back and it thudded lightly against the door. Hermione didn't even notice; she was busy trying to suppress the blush that Harry caused by complimenting her on her legs.
"You okay in there?" Harry called to her from the living room.
"Yes, I'm fine," she answered.
"What'd you do, drop the book?"
"No smart-aleck, I didn't."
"Yeah, you're right; if you had dropped that book the shock waves would have leveled London."
"You're an arse Harry!"
"But you love me anyway!" As soon as he said it he snapped his mouth shut and looked towards the kitchen.
On the other side of the kitchen door Hermione's mouth dropped open.
"What? What do I do? Answer him," she told herself. "You can't just leave that hanging out there, answer him! Say something, anything!" Then she blurted out, "Just like you love me!"
Hermione winced, and shut her eyes tight as her brain screamed, "NO, you idiot!" She whimpered silently as she leaned against the door.
Now it was Harry's turn to be startled. He looked around for help, then thought for a second, and called back.
"Of course!"
He held his breath, and waited to see if she would respond.
In the kitchen, Hermione exhaled and relaxed a bit.
"Hermione?"
"Yes."
"Now that the declarations of love are over, can we go eat?" He hoped his words didn't sound as forced as they felt.
Hermione smiled as her heartbeat returned to normal, "No!"
"Ahh crap." She heard him mutter through the door, and she snickered.
Now that the awkwardness of the last minute was over, Hermione decided she would get herself some juice, and read her book. She stepped away from the door and dropped her book on the counter to the left of the sink. It thudded very loudly.
"Don't say it," she warned.
"Who me?"
Hermione reached into the cabinet above the sink and got herself a glass. She set it on the counter and then went to the fridge. She took out the juice, filled her glass, put the juice away, and then went back to the counter where she had left her book.
And that's where she was when Harry entered the kitchen to refill his water glass. He pushed open the door and stopped dead. Hermione was leaning over the counter bent at the waist. The gorgeous legs he had seen in the living room looked longer, and even more spectacular, if that were possible. The little blue shorts she was wearing were now stretched tightly over her bum accentuating it, incredibly. She was indeed wearing the white tank top that he thought, but due to the heat, she was not wearing a bra, and bending over like that, it made the silhouette of her body look absolutely …amazing!
She glanced up at him and gave him a quick smile, and he forced himself to move because he knew that if he didn't she'd know he was staring. Once he was in motion she went right back to reading her book. He dumped the warm water in his glass into the sink and then placed the glass on the counter to the right of it, stealing quick glances at her curves the entire time. He opened the fridge and reached in and took out the pitcher of cold water. He took the top off, dropped it on the counter and filled his glass. When the top hit the counter she looked up, saw it, and frowned at him. He knew she hated that he always took the top off, but.
"Water pours easier," he said. She harrumphed at him, and went back to her reading. He sucked down his water and refilled the glass.
"What're you reading?" he inquired as he leaned back against the counter trying to sound casual.
"Like you really care," she said in a sing song way without looking up. His mouth dropped open, and he put a hand to his chest feigning pain. "Ouch Hermione, I'm hurt. I would really like to know."
"Really?" she asked cautiously turning her head.
"Yes!" he assured her.
She gauged the look on his face and then twister her torso towards him.
"Well," she began, but that was the last word he heard. She went on and on about the book but not one word registered. All he was capable of doing at that moment was staring at her face. He stared for what seemed like hours. He was trying to memorize every feature of a face he'd seen a thousand times before, but never really looked at. Not like this! She was absolutely gorgeous. Her skin was flawless, her features were perfect, and her honey brown eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she spoke. He couldn't have looked away if his life had depended on it.
"…………And that's about it," he heard her say, and he snapped back.
"That's interesting, I think?" he said looking perplexed. She smiled at him, "Yeah, I thought so," and she went back to reading.
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"It's REALLY, REALLY hot in this kitchen," he thought, wiping the sweat from his brow with his left sleeve. Harry reached up, pulled open the freezer, and took out the ice tray. He was just about to toss an ice cube into his glass of water when a mischievous smile creased his lips. He looked down at the cube in his hand, and then over at the two inch strip of bare skin on Hermione's back that he could see just above the waist of her shorts.
"I shouldn't, she'll kill me," he told himself. "But I really, really want to." He stared at her bare back again, and then slowly strolled in her direction.
He leaned over next to her to look at the book and commented, "Looks interesting." She was surprised he was so close. Hermione was just about to ask him what looked so 'interesting' when she shrieked. A freezing cold ice cube slid right down the path of her spine. She bolted upright and wiggled and screamed as she tried to shake the ice cube loose. Harry smiled and backed away, enjoying all the wiggling, and jiggling she was doing as she hopped around. When the cube hit the floor she stood there struggling to speak. She could not believe he had put an ice cube down her back. He was slowly backing towards the kitchen door.
"I ….I can't believe you did that!" she finally managed, an expression of shock still plastered on her face. Harry just stood there smiling at her. Then with speed he would not have thought a bookworm could possess she had flipped up the tap on the kitchen sink, grabbed the hose, and fired. The smug smile on his face disappeared under a torrent of cold water that hit him right in the center of his chest. He had never moved. After he was thoroughly drenched from head to toe, she released the trigger on the hose, held it up, blew the smoke off the tip of her pseudo gun, and beamed back at him.
Harry held up his hands in surrender. He was absolutely soaked. The white tee shirt he was wearing, Hermione noticed, was plastered to his chest. Harry was no longer the skinny boy she had met all those years ago. His chest had definition, and it looked rock hard. Hermione bit her bottom lip as she looked him over.
"Truce?" he asked her.
She nodded smiling.
Harry shook his arms out to get rid of the excess water and then squeezed as much water as he could from the front of his shirt, creating a sizable puddle on the kitchen floor. As she watched, he lifted the front of his shirt and used it as a towel to dry his face. Hermione stared at his stomach. She watched transfixed as it rippled as he moved and she couldn't help but notice the jet black hair, which started at his navel and worked its way down until it disappeared under the exposed waistband of his boxer shorts.
She exhaled slowly.
"How about a nice big hug?" he crooner as he advanced towards her with open arms.
She put down the hose, and put up her hands. "No way soggy, you stay away from me."
"Alright," he said sounding disappointed.
She put her hands down, and as she did he scooped up his glass of cold water and hit her with the contents. Water splattered all over the kitchen. She stood there with her mouth open stunned as cold water dripped from her eye lashes. She could not fathom that he had done it again.
When the shock of what he had just done, wore off, a steely determination appeared in the eyes of Hermione Granger. She stared into the beautiful green eyes of her best friend and declared, "Of course you know this means war." With that, she lunged for the pitcher of water that Harry had left on the counter, sans top, and took off after the now fleeing Mister Potter.
He turned and used his shoulder to bang open the kitchen door which sprung back at Hermione, forcing her to slow her pursuit. She growled at him as she chased him across the living room carrying the pitcher or water out in front of her. Harry hit the hallway that lead down to Ron's room with Hermione gaining fast. Just as he turned the corner, and was out of her sight, he apparated. Hermione heard the 'pop', but it didn't register. As she turned the corner into the hallway there was another 'pop'. By the time she grasped what had happened, he was gone, and back, only now he was right behind her.
"Gotcha," and yelled in triumph as he pounced. She screamed and turned, but it was too late. A smiling Harry tackled her to the hallway floor. Hermione felt herself falling and she flailed her arms in an attempt to save herself, but…. As she went down, three-quarters of the water in the pitcher she was holding doused her, and not Harry. What missed her splashed off the walls, the ceiling, everywhere! Both Harry and Hermione landed in a heap on the hallway rug with Harry on top of her. The empty pitcher was still in her hand.
"Didn't see that coming did you," he laughed triumphantly. She looked into his eyes, stunned by the turn of events, and then she flung the empty pitcher to her right, where it bounced off the wall and right back to her. He watched as the pitcher came to rest against her hip and then looked up at her in confusion.
It didn't matter to her where the pitcher went, that wasn't the point, it freed up her hand and she reached up into her hair and pulled out her wand. She go it as far down as shoulder level before he realized what she was doing and pinned her arm to the floor. She shrieked and shook her head in frustration; Hermione Granger did not like finishing second, even to the great Harry Potter. He grabbed both her hands and pinned them up over her head, as she writhed to get free. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair was now loose, and there was fire in her eyes. She was also soaking wet, from head to toe.
Harry's eyes sparkled with amusement as he hovered over Hermione and stared at her face. Then his eyes glanced down at her shirt, and his breath hitched. The little white tank top she was wearing was soaking wet and molded to her chest like a second skin. Harry's mouth dropped open. He looked back up at her face. There was a blush there, but she met his eyes, she refused to be embarrassed. This game or theirs had just gone from silly to serious in the blink of an eye. He focused intently on her face, trying to read her expression. There was frustration there, and maybe a hint of embarrassment, but also something else he could not quite discern. He knew damn well what he wanted it to be, but he didn't want to make a mistake, not with her.
Hermione lay flat on her back on the hallway rug, pinned under Harry and completely helpless. The air was charged with electricity as they started at each other intently. Hermione bit her bottom lip and waited to see what he would do next. Harry stared down at the beautiful girl beneath him who was biting her lip again, and then he crossed a line he had only hoped to one day cross. Harry Potter kissed his best friend. Their lips touched gently as they shared their first kiss. Hermione instantly dropped her wand and snaked her arms around his neck and held him close as they slowly explored each others mouths. When they broke the kiss, Hermione stared up at him smiling.
"What?" he asked.
"What took you so long Potter?" she teased playfully.
Startled a bit, Harry just shrugged. "I-I didn't know you wanted me to," he replied as he gently ran his finger down her cheek.
"Well, now you do. And she smirked up at him.
"Yup, now I know….. You're warm for my form," and he laughed at the expression that appeared on her face.
Hermione was stunned into silence. When the shock of what he had just said wore off, she shyly smiled at him. "Well…. maybe just a little." and she held her fingers an inch or so apart.
Harry nodded his head, "That's good to know, and for the record, the feeling is definitely mutual."
Hermione's cheeks flushed beat red, but she was smiling.
"So, what's the deal already? Are you ever planning on kissing me again or what?"
"Impatient aren't we Miss Granger?"
"Yes….. I've waited far too long as it is."
Harry nodded. "Fair enough." And then he leaned in and kissed her again.