"What are your plans now?" Hermione's mother asked from the couch.
Harry turned his head and looked at Hermione as she sat next to him. She looked timid, excited and like a goddess all at once. He smiled and squeezed her hand. She smiled back at him. It was smile like he had never received before from anyone. It was encouraging and wistful and what he had always wanted but never dared to ask for.
"We don't know." Hermione answered her mother, "We're going to start by going home."
"To your separate homes?" Her father said protectively.
"Yes, sir."
"Well, okay then." He shifted back onto the couch.
"Do we need to tell you about it?" Her mother pressed.
"It?" Harry raised and eyebrow.
"It." She accentuated.
"No, Mother." Hermione put her face in her hands.
They talked for awhile more before Harry politely excused himself to go. Hermione walked him out to the curb in front of her house. She stared down at her feet like a shy teenager.
"Thank you." She said softly.
"For what?"
"For coming out here, for... well for everything really." She smiled.
"Thank you, Hermione." He put his hand on her cheek, "Thank you so much."
"I.. okay?"
"You waited for me." He shrugged, "I was so messed up after everything, in such a bad place. But you waited. You recognized something in me and you waited. You didn't have to."
"Yes, I did. I know you have this complex about yourself-"
"I wouldn't call it a-" She put her hand to his mouth.
"It is." She withdrew her hand, "You have such a low opinion of yourself, no matter how wonderful you really are. I had to wait for you. It has to be you, Harry. It has to be."
"I don't know what to say."
"You never do." She leaned in and kissed him, "But that's okay. You don't have to explain anything to me."
Harry pulled her forward and hugged her. He had to feel her against himself, if only to remind him that this was real. That she cared.
"I love you. I don't know why it took so long to see that." He whispered into her hair.
"Because we weren't ready for it yet." She pulled back and looked into his eyes, "But we are now."
A few long moments passed as they stared into each other's eyes. They smiled about the long road it had taken to get there, and dreamed about the rest of their lives now that they had arrived. Finally he kissed her again. Each time she let him kiss her he felt special, privileged. He belonged to her now, nothing would ever be the same again.
"I'll come round in the morning to take you back to London." He said.
"I wish you could stay." She looked down, "I'm going to wake up tomorrow and worry that none of this happened."
"I wish I could too, but I doubt your parents would be too keen on it."
"Just be here tomorrow. Please."
"I'll be here."
After he watched her walk back in, he went back to his hotel room and packed his things for their trip home tomorrow. While brushing his teeth he caught himself in the bathroom mirror and for no reason started to blush. He called the front desk and set a wake up call for seven A.M. before he lay back on the bed, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, went to sleep with a smile on his face.
* * *
They found a spot near the back of the train where no one could hear them the next morning. There was a tremendous sense of pride and amazement from the simple fact that they could hold hands in public. Harry wondered if he would ever get tired of just holding her hand. A goofy smile spread across his face. Hermione sighed and leaned into in, resting her head on his shoulder.
"I was happy to see you this morning." She closed her eyes, "Happier than I've ever been about anything."
"Me too."
"Mum says we're acting like love sick teenagers."
"She's probably right. It's hard to tell, but I went to sleep really happy last night and that's a big deal to me."
"I still wish you could have stayed."
"Me too." He said too quickly.
"I didn't mean like that." She giggled at him.
"No. No, me either!"
"I'm not saying I'm opposed to that!" She sat up suddenly and looked into his eyes.
"No, I know. I'm not going to push it" He said comfortingly, "When we're ready. It's not about sex with me."
"Of course it's not, not that it wouldn't be welcomed-" She covered her mouth and blushed. He put his arms around her and pulled her close to him.
"When we're ready."
"Exactly." She agreed. They sat like that for half the train ride before suddenly she spoke again.
"So what do you want to do when we get back?"
"How do you mean?" He rubbed his head, "I guess we should tell Ron and Luna."
"What about Ginny?"
"Right. Ginny." He cast his eyes downward, "I was hoping to avoid that for awhile."
"Which is all fine and well, for you." She pointed out, "But I live with her."
"Well..." He began nervously, "You could stay at my place."
"What?"
"I mean, hey not like that!" He blushed.
"Then like what?" She gave him a look that shook every fiber of his being.
"I would, you know, I would take the couch. You could have the bed. Everyone thinks you're gone anyway."
"And everyone thinks you went after me."
"Yeah so..." He looked out the window with a measure of guilt.
"Okay."
Harry whipped his head around in shock. He had to see her. He had to know what had caused her to answer so quickly. When he saw her she was practically glowing red. She had dropped her head and was looking nervously at the floor. Her feet were moving anxiously back and forth. She was wringing her hands. She looked so vulnerable. He wanted to reach out and hold her. To comfort her. For some reason he couldn't. He just kept trying to swallow back the lump that had formed in his throat, and push some very vivid images from his mind.
* * *
Harry was sitting on his couch looking at two different take out menus, trying to decide if he wanted to order pizza or Chinese. Hermione was in the shower and Harry was trying his best to ignore that fact. His take out dilemma was in direct correlation. If he could just keep an internal debate going over food he hoped he would be able to ignore the idea of water running over her body. He shook his head. He stood up and began pacing.
"This is bad." He said aloud.
He decided to walk into his room to grab some of his things to put next to the couch. It had never been like this with her before. Not to say that he hadn't had these thoughts from time to time, but they had never been so palpable. He would find himself constantly glancing at the bathroom door before he realized what he was doing. He shook his head violently before he grabbed a handful of clean clothes and went out to the couch. He tried sitting on the couch but his leg wouldn't stop shaking. He tried to lay on it, but his leg just got worse. So finally he settled on pacing in front of the couch.
"What the hell is taking her so long?"
As if on cue he heard the water stop. He stopped pacing and for several long moments just stared at the door to the bathroom. He felt strangely compelled by the door. He put a foot forward before he stopped. He drew his foot back and shook his head. He was being stupid, impulsive. He couldn't do what his physical urges wanted him to do. He sat down and the couch and turned on the TV. He pretended to concentrate on what was on but all he could focus on was the sound of the bathroom door. He heard her footsteps patter over the hardwood as she made her way to his bedroom. He doubled his efforts not to turn his head.
"Just be cool."
After a few minutes he noticed the scent of freshly washed hair and felt her weight next to him on the couch. He refused to turn his head. He felt her hand fall onto his knee. He looked down then looked at her. She was in a simple pair of sweats but something about her being damp made it so much more interesting.
"What are you watching?" Maybe he was imagining it but he could swear she was puckering her lips.
"I.. uh..what?"
"What are you watching?"
Harry searched every part of his brain to try and remember a single frame of what he saw on his television screen. Nothing was coming. He wondered if he could chance a look at the screen and still seem casual about it. He didn't have a lot of options so he went for it. His eyes quickly scanned over the screen only to see an advert for snack chips running. He looked back at her with a guilty grin. She raised an eyebrow and the corners of her lips perked up.
"I have no idea." He admitted.
"What's got you zoning out so bad?"
"It's, well, you're going to think this is silly."
"I promise not to laugh." She crossed her heart with her finger, "Too much, anyway."
"I... you're my girlfriend now and.."
"I am, in fact, your girlfriend now." They both paused before she continued, "That is absolutely my new favorite sentence."
"It's definitely mine too." He nodded.
"So, is that what has you so spaced out? Nomenclature?"
"In a way, yes." Harry pointed at the ceiling and indicated around the rest of the apartment, "I've stayed in a lot of places, with a lot of different people."
"Girls?"
"On occasion." He shrugged.
"Sex?"
"As in have I had it?"
"As in." She affirmed.
"Yes, I have. Haven't you?"
"Yes."
There was suddenly a tightness in his chest. It should have been so obvious to him that she had had sex, he had even prepared himself for her answer, and yet hearing it was totally different. He swallowed hard and dismissed it from his mind. He was an adult, he had to start acting like one if he wanted it to work with her, and he wanted little else in the world than for it to work with her.
"Can we be done with this portion of the conversation?"
"Did you sleep with Ginny?"
"God, no. We stopped dating in school."
"Do you want to know if I slept with Ron?"
"No." He bit his lip, "Okay, a little bit yeah."
"Yes, once. Is that okay?"
"Why wouldn't it be?" He raised an eyebrow.
"He's your best friend."
"Yeah, we're finished with this portion of the conversation now."
"Agreed. You were saying?"
"Right, I was saying that I have never slept this close to a girlfriend."
"What about the one you had sex with?"
"You don't really want me answering that." He shook his head.
"Yeah, I kind of do."
"She wasn't my girlfriend. Is this important?"
"I don't really know."
Harry shuffled uncomfortably on the couch. Hermione put her hand on his.
"Okay, this is that part in the relationship where everything is kind of still settling."
"I'm not good at these things, Hermione. I'm not..." He hung his head, "I've never been a very good boyfriend."
Hermione put her hand gently on his cheek. "You're the only boyfriend I want, Harry."
Harry kissed her. She leaned back on the couch with his weight. Her chest heaved into him as her fingers laced through his hair on the back of his head. She pulled him closer, and what had begun its life as a chaste kiss became something far more passionate. Harry moaned into her mouth as his hips involuntarily pressed against hers. He felt her smile against his lips. He suddenly became aware of where his hand was. He felt the soft cotton sweatshirt covering her bosom against his palm. His eyes went wide and he jerked himself away from her.
He snapped his head to the side to look at his offending hand. It looked like his hand had always looked, no difference and yet it also looked totally alien to him. He couldn't believe what it, or rather what he, had done. He turned his head back to her. She was still laying back on the couch but her face had gone pale, save for the tremendous blush covering her cheeks. She was breathing heavy, her chest rising up and down with each breath. He forced his eyes from her heaving chest back to her face. Her eyes were focused on him.
"You... you stopped." She squeaked out.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...you know.... it just kind of happened."
"I.."
Harry stood up and fled the room at a reckless pace. He closed the bathroom door behind him when he got in. He took several long steading breaths as he paced the room. Finally he sat down on the cold tiles in front of the toilet and hung his head. He soon lost himself in thought. Regret for the most part. He would look up every now and then at the door. Making sure the knob was still locked.
He sat in the bathroom for almost a half an hour listening to Hermione through the door. He waited specifically to hear her walk into his room and close the door. Instead, after a long wait he heard her knock on the door to the bathroom. He debated not answering but decided it would be difficult to convince her that he wasn't in there. So he stood up and opened the door a crack.
"Hello." He said lamely.
"Can I come in?"
"I'm sorry."
"Harry, can I come in? We should probably talk about this."
Harry hesitated. He couldn't help but feel that everything was happening too fast and he worried that if he let her into the room that it would only hurtle even further out of his control. He did not want to ruin what they had but he feared deep in the pit of his soul that he would. He had never been in a serious relationship before. He had no idea how to handle it. Furthermore he was really embarrassed by his actions and unsure of how composed he was to handle an extended conversation in his condition. She was making him blush.
He looked to her and realized that he was being stupid. This was Hermione. His Hermione. She would never do anything to hurt him in any way. He sighed.
"Yeah. You're right."
He stepped aside and let her enter. She sat on the edge of the bathtub and patted the area next to her. He sat down with a little space between the two of them. She moved over until her thigh rested against his. He cast his eyes down nervously.
"I'm sorry." He repeated.
"Is this going to happen every time you touch me?"
"I don't... What?" He looked up at her. Her face was stern, but with a kind of sweetness he didn't expect.
"I'm yours, Harry. Heart, mind and body. Everything. And you? You're mine."
"I know, it's just I promised not to push this."
"It's okay, Harry. Things happen in the heat of the moment. I didn't object."
"I don't think..." He paused before shaking his head, "I don't think we're ready yet."
"Then we're not." She put her hand on his cheek and his head instinctively turned into it, "We can always stop if it's going too far. I promise you that. Okay?"
"Okay."
"But that doesn't mean I don't want you touching me. Because I do. I want you to be comfortable touching me in any way you like. I mean that."
"It's not that I don't want to."
"You have to understand that I thought that. I sat out there forever, Harry, thinking that you didn't find me attractive or that you didn't like what you felt. The things I thought, it worried me."
"That isn't it at all!" He stood up suddenly, "Hermione, I think you're the most beautiful, sexy, wonderful woman I've ever met."
"I wasn't fishing for compliments."
"I wasn't taking any bait either. That's a fact."
"Then it's okay for you to grab my breast. It's okay for you to do so much more. It honestly is."
"I just don't want to rush things."
"We won't. If it's going to far, in the future, I'll stop you and we'll discuss if we go further or not. You don't need to worry about that. I'll know if we hit the point of no return or not. You will too."
"What if I don't? What if you don't?"
"There are worse things in the world than making love to you, Harry." Harry nearly fell off the edge of the tub in shock. He looked at her wide eyed. Something about the way she had said it caught his funny bone and he began to laugh. She soon joined him. Eventually when the laughter died down she put her hand on his, "If it happens it happens. If we love each other, if neither one of us stops, then that's when we're ready."
"Oh... okay."
He sat back down next to her and she put her head on his shoulder. He ran his hand over the top of her head, mussing her hair a little. She smiled and closed her eyes.
"I told you I was bad at being a boyfriend." He chuckled.
"It's a learning experience."
* * *
The next morning Harry picked himself up off the couch and walked into the kitchen to make breakfast. He yawned as he looked at the clock on the stove. It was just shy of eleven o'clock in the morning. He hadn't meant to oversleep but they had stayed up half the night talking. He couldn't really remember what they had talked about for most of it. All he recalled was realizing it was three in the morning and deciding it was time for them to get some sleep.
As he turned over the bacon he realized that he wasn't making enough. He had spent so many years making breakfast for one that he had let himself do it out of pure muscle memory. He went to the fridge and pulled out two more eggs and some more bacon. When he had finished cooking breakfast he set it on the table and turned around to wake up Hermione. He turned around to find her stretching and yawning.
"Something smells wonderful." She announced.
"I, uh, I made breakfast." He pointed to the table.
"Mmmm. This I could get used to."
They sat down and ate breakfast, the whole time giggling at silly jokes and making eyes at one another. When they had finished Harry took both plates and began to wash them.
"You don't have to do the dishes." Hermione offered.
"No big deal."
"You cooked."
"You're my guest."
"Well, if you insist." She stood up, "Anything you want to watch? I'm going to put the TV on."
"I'm fairly certain that there is nothing worth watching on."
"It is daytime television."
"I'm not convinced the time of day matters." He shrugged.
"You may be onto something there."
Hermione walked into the living room and turned on the TV. She found a channel that was playing "Strangers on a Train" and left it on. Before long Harry joined her on the couch. They sat down and talked to each other about nothing substantial instead of paying attention to the movie. She put her hand in his. Somewhere in the background Ruth Roman spoke an impassioned monologue.
"So." She started, "Living together. So far?"
"So far so good." He nodded.
"I'm enjoying it. It's like the best vacation ever."
"I agree. You should consider never leaving." He joked.
Hermione just sat there staring at him. Harry smiled uncomfortably.
"You mean... Live together?"
"I was, uhm... I was kidding."
"I know, I just.. Big step in a relationship to joke about."
"You're right."
"Yeah." They sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes.
"Uh... Did you want to?"
Hermione looked at him for what felt like months. He instantly regretted asking. He tried to turn his brain into overdrive to come up with a way to back pedal. Before he could find an appropriate line of reasoning she trumped him.
"I honestly don't know."
They both sat back on the couch and stared off into space. Contemplating their shared future. The world was changing around them. They needed time to catch their breath.