Life and Times
Rating: R
Ship: HHr (main emphasis)
The (unlovely) procedure: all rights go to JKR for previous plot and characters, Scholastic, Warner, and whoever else has their hands in HP.
Author Note: I really wanted to get this out in time for HP7: Part I. The chapter was supposed to be longer with the part I cut out to be continued at the end, but I decided to keep it for next time for just this date. The cliffhanger at the end wasn't intended in the beginning, but works quite well with the tone created.
Also, the toothbrush scene really came out of nowhere. I wanted to write it as this deeply intense moment, but the characters wanted to be wacky, albeit in a cute, innocent way. Thought that was interesting how it happened and how the scene now alludes to the start of their relationship (which I liked).
A/N Edit: {Nov 20 2010 1:42 AM EST} Just got back from HP7, and trying to be completely ambiguous to those who have not seen the film, the HHr dancing scene was the sexiest part in the entire series. Scarily similar, I have a dancing scene of my own-watch for it in a later chapter! Also, minor changes and fixed small errors.
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Chapter Twenty-Four - Esoteric
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An alabaster sheen of soft, white snow powdered Hogwarts's grounds. What remain of the water pouring from the fountain now stood sparkling, clear crystal. The window panes of the glorious repertoire of brick and mortar glistened a subtle, frosty outline of the archaic, Victorian-like architecture. Winter was obviously upon them, and the thumb of Jack Frost pressed heavily down on the northern parts of England's shore. Inside, however, amongst the many chattering mouths laid warmth from a nearby hearth and its roaring fire.
The Gryffindor common room and all its crimson and gold splendor was ripe, in-tune with the on-coming holiday. Mid-term exams dwindling to those few sporadic individuals left to finish, the rest were in high-spirits for the long awaited trip home to their families, friends, and the tidings of Christmas. The Gryffindor students, donning their equivalent colours in apparel, excitedly corralled themselves a small feast-a party. Warm apple cider and pumpkin juice decorated the tables as much as the hams and turkeys, and the variety of candy and puddings. A radio in the corner played the season and those who had the confidence rose to the occasion to grab a lass to dance amongst the fireplace.
Smiling, my eyes flicked from Angelina wrapped in George's arms as they swayed to the music toward Harry not but a few inches away. I had my feet propped atop his lap and he had his arm, his left hand holding my stocking-covered leg farthest from him. He had his head turned away from me, discussing probably Quidditch with Oliver as they were really getting into their conversation. Hand gestures were flying.
He never did leave my leg, and I wasn't too sure if it came from the fire, the cider in my hand or from within me, but the place he forever touched rose in temperature. The heat crept right up in me, to my core, where it settled somewhere inside my chest. Having my arms slightly crossed the jumper I wore, I took a swig of what was left of the cider and placed the cup down on the floor.
I felt drunk without having had alcohol…unless Seamus had gotten close to what was in the community bowl. Settling into the crook of the armrest along the couch we rested on, I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. The fire flickered this colour on his skin. Sometimes the shadow would complement the tone of his arms. He sat with this exuberant confidence, too, a promising and noteworthy turn-on to me. After being beaten and battered, lack of nerve hadn't left him. Oliver had said a joke. I wasn't really listening, too caught up in watching how the shadow increased my observance of Harry's jaw.
Harry's hand twitched. I felt the palm raise, and every digit push into me in tandem. Slowly, he relieved the squeeze with his fingers gently relaxing one-by-one. I'm not sure if he had done it on purpose, but I certainly became more attentive. He felt me move my legs the second after and turned to me, my side on the back of the couch. A smile wriggled its way onto my lips-I couldn't help it. He sort of made a laugh, quizzically looking at me as if I were up to something.
And, I was up to something.
"Are you okay?" He asked with utmost sincerity, leaning in and away from Oliver at standby.
My mind shut off, or at least went numb. I acted on instinct-on heart. The atmosphere pushed me over with its jubilance, its raw, puberty-ridden adolescence. Pushing myself from the seat cushions, I rose to meet him halfway. With a drawl, husky-sort of voice I responded to him with, "Follow me."
I took his hand and shot off the couch. I saw him turn to Oliver and Oliver shrug. He shrugged and I had him. I tightened my clasp as I pulled him willingly throughout the maze of bodies. I didn't once look at who I was pushing out of my way as there was only one thing on my mind, and that was Harry.
Without me he wouldn't be able to climb these stairs to the girls' dorm. I led him up the rounding staircase without a word, in silence. The windows as we wound echoed the cold, but the warmth ebbing from his hand-and through me like a circuit-eroded whatever chill clung onto me. We slipped into the dorm after I glanced around, breathing a sigh of relief to know some straggler hadn't come back from the party early. But, in case, I set a trap-a charm to whomever were to touch the doorknob would become of thrist, needing to march back down to get a drink. I went quickly about it, tapping on the outside handle thrice with my wand to make sure I'd attached my magic thoroughly.
When I flipped around, having come in and shut the door without a peep, I saw him just standing there looking at me in a daze. Then, as if knowingly, our secret, he smirked at me and I leapt nearly into his arms. I stood on my tip-toes, leaning my weight into his form at the side of my bed. He hurriedly had his hand up and under my jumper, lifting it enough for the cool air to hit my skin. Goosebumps formed, and I shivered, only to have his hands soothe over the exposed parts of me. Transferring, his heat exhausted whatever cold brought me to the shiver.
He fell back from me and onto the waiting mattress. I crinkled up my nose at how smoothly he looked when he doubled backward and lay. He winked at me and I rolled my eyes. Sticking my wand behind my ear, I slipped to my personal nightstand and breeched the top container. Sliding it open and closed, I took the piece we needed. I did a little shimmy, the purple wrapper within my fingers as I slid right to Harry-and upon him. I sat straddled on his hips and waited as he closed-shut the curtain surrounding the bed. He then sat up and kissed me, removing my wand from my ear, all the while I ripped-and-tore open the rubber with my teeth.
I heard him chant Muffliato and saw him drop my wand on the bed, his hands going to me and yanking me down. I fell, laughing when we merged and kissed him hard. My right hand, its fingers, clutched onto his face, and then in his hair. Our noses meshed together, roughly caressing, releasing our longing in one forceful kiss. I moaned into him when I felt the nibble, his teeth at my bottom lip when I pushed off to sit up. The lip sprung back firm, my eyesight coming to while my left hand slipped from his right, exchanging the missing piece of our puzzle.
He watched me as I wiggled right out of the sweater, his own personal show. Hair and all cascaded down the front of my nakedness when I was relieved, tossing the jumper atop his bugging eyes behind his messed up, sideways glasses. He laughed, tossing the jumper aside. He grabbed me, and much like he had done with my sweater, tossed me to the bed. He came in and kissed me softly, our eyes meeting. I lingered on them, his weight slight on me; his natural jades simply dazzling me…
I woke first to color, and then to that unnatural smell of Floo powder relinquishing from the fireplace. I had my head on a pillow, my hands around a book I'd been reading from the collection Harry had given me for Christmas. I didn't so much as move, knowing he'd come home and knowing that if I did anything hasty my head would explode. I'd grown a headache throughout the day even though I didn't have to work. To relax, I came home and fixed dinner after shopping with Cho at Violet Hill. I'd gone shopping primarily for the up-coming vacation Harry had promised and one that I so needed partially for me and partially for my own sanity. Tomorrow night we were to leave for a secluded island; one of many formed from this branch of wizarding travel. The island Harry had booked was entitled Nirvana and if it met all the pleasures of the Hindu definition I was greatly fine by that.
Also, I needed some girl-time. With Ginny having…well, whatever, I was without a best friend. Katie was gone with Quidditch. I called Lavender, but she was over-burdened by work. Luna had the Quibbler to worry about and so Cho it was. Not that I had anything against Cho, she was just…Ginny's friend more than mine and I had an earful of, "Why Gin and I were acting weird?" the entire outing.
Harry had sent me a text on the cellular phone I kept with me in case of emergencies. Of course, with it being for emergencies, I was startled when the machine buzzed frantically in my pants pocket. Thankfully, I was alone when I cursed aloud the word, "Fuck!" after thinking something had happened to Harry when I read his name on the caller id before reading the text:
Game tomorrow and practice tonight. Won't be in at the usual time. Don't wait up if I get in late. Text me back if you need me. I love you like crazy - Har-bear
I had to read it again, as it gave me a heart attack the first time, to calm from the confusion.
I had a little wine with the meal I prepared: a chicken casserole mum made for me with broccoli and cream with noodles. I also made cherry jello as cherry was Harry's favorite and set aside that for when he came home. I kept the oven turned on the lowest of temps to keep the casserole warm and lay down with the book. I must have drifted off to sleep unknowingly for I wasn't on my stomach nor did I lay face-first into the pillow which was behind my head.
The half a glass of wine and the cell phone didn't budge from the slight wind the Floo produced, Harry stepping out of the fireplace from nowhere. The green flash of flame burst with life, and then settled after Harry's full-form stood inside Number 12's den. I turned on my side, or tried to but was stopped by Harry swooping in after he set his belongings next to the couch. He put his hand on my back gently and squatted down to my height. I could feel a tinge of the weather on his hand through the black shirt I wore. My long sleeve undershirt, tiny black stars printed randomly all over the white base, stretched against my figure when I'd gone to turn toward him.
I merely fell back into my original position and smiled at him from my groggy state of waking. I saw him smile in return before blinking, and yawning.
"I didn't mean to wake you up…," he whispered quietly. My headache was willing to increase, so I was glad when he used his inside voice. He scratched the arch of my back, right where he knew I liked it. He asked after examining me, "Why aren't you in bed, Love?"
"Dinner's in the stove and there's some cherry jello in the refrigerator…" I turned this time, and he met me with another smile and a light kiss on my lips. He lifted his hand for me to adjust and then let it fall back now to my abdomen.
He noticed the softness of my voice and the closing of my eyes as a sign of something unusual, asking while his hand caressed the side of my face, "Are you okay? You look sick."
"Mmn…," I raised my hand to meet his and slid his palm to my forehead. I said in whisper, "Headache."
"Did you eat?" I felt him comb my hair with his fingers. "I see the wine here."
"Of course."
He kissed my cheek closest to him. I could feel the warmth of his breath when he lingered close to my ear, "Did you take something for it?"
I nodded. I let my hand go to my stomach which prompted him to ask in response, "Are you hurting anywhere else?"
His hand left my head and went to my tummy. I first felt him slip into my shirt from the bottom, and then I let out a breath of surprise when I found how cold his hand was.
"Cold! Cold!...," I let out in a notch above whisper. I giggled a little and turned my head more towards Harry. I'd taken his hand out and put it back on my forehead.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…," he made a pouty face, grazing his thumb along the skin of my forehead softly. "I didn't know."
"It's much better up here…," I rubbed his forearm when he placed it around me as if he were embracing me, kneeling as he did so to the floor. His chest was at the couch's edge and he bent down to kiss my cheek once more, then my clavicle, and then my neck.
I turned my head quickly to sneeze, probably from essence of Floo swirling invisible in our room.
"Sorry…," I preempted my apology in case I'd gotten him.
He merely lifted his hand the other way the moment it happened, reflexes like a cat. He stroked the side of my cheek, hearing me stuffy when I tried to breathe in. "You know what they say-someone's thinking about you."
"Hm…," I pushed back into his hand when he placed it back on my forehead. "And, I wonder who that could be?"
His laughter muffled into the couch.
"Is it the same sort of thing you had last month?" I heard him ask from about my neck, nuzzling me, smelling his lioness.
"Yep…," his hand continued to comb my hair, his fingers creating waves in my already wavy locks. "The `girl-thing' strikes again. I'm not complaining, though… Cho gets major cramps she says."
"You know if I could take the pain away…"
"…You would, I know," I smiled, my eyes closed. Harry peck-kissed my neck, leaving goosebumps everywhere.
"How'd that go, by the way?"
"Good…," I breathed. I really didn't want to bring up how Cho talked about Ginny. "Got some new outfit things, a new swimsuit…"
"New swimsuit…," Harry murmured.
"…something else that I think you might like…"
I felt Harry stop suddenly, and then found his chin at rest on my shoulder. I lay on my back mostly and peered down at him from above. Beneath his disheveled hair those dazzling green eyes fixed upon me without hesitation.
"…'Something else I might like'?"
I made a laugh when silence filled the pause.
"I'm leaving that as a surprise for later."
"Rawr…," Harry kept his eyes on me, but rose up from my shoulder to bite lightly down.
I laughed again and shook my head at him, "What am I going to do with you?"
"You better be glad you've got a headache…," he made an evil of grins and kissed the spot he bit before resting his chin back on me.
I couldn't help but gather up a smug grin and roll my eyes. "Is that all you think about, Mister Potter?"
"I think about you, Misses Soon-to-be-Potter," His eyes finally detached themselves from me when he bent down to kiss my shoulder, and then went onto my chest. "You don't know how much I missed you today, tonight, the few hours of tonight."
"It was only today…you know I don't work every day during the week."
"But, it was like," He glanced at me on his way across my chest with gentle caresses. "I missed you like crazy. Maddening. I couldn't help but have you more on my mind than ever before-like I'd been possessed."
I laughed through my nose, a smile never ceasing from my lips.
Harry left me when he'd gotten to my other shoulder and floated above my face. He looked at me and grinned, "That was kind of corny…" He kissed me in the moment.
When he released I shook my head from side to side. "It wasn't at all," I stated, moving back to the tender kiss he had given me.
"Every day it feels like more and more butterflies are in my stomach," he said within our kiss. "Every day it gets closer to that day…and it makes this more real."
"Mmn…," I smiled, thinking upon our plans, thinking about Harry who so lightly kissed me, afraid of anything further by my illness. "February."
He halted our kiss, hovering his lips above mine as he spoke, "Were we crazy to set our wedding on Valentine's?"
"It doesn't have to be dramatic…," I lifted to kiss his lips quickly. "It doesn't have to be fancy. I don't want it to cost more than it has to, or be labyrinthine."
"But I want to give you everything. You know that, and you deserve a prodigious wedding."
I shook my head, "I only want you…and that's all that matters."
His kissed me rougher than before, but let up soon after. "…And, this is why I missed you madly."
He peck-kissed the corner of my mouth. "I love you."
"You better…," snarky, I said it with a smile.
Harry laughed and kissed my cheek.
Harry began to get up from kneeling, pushing his way from the couch. He was standing when I asked him, "Gryffindor going to beat Slytherin tomorrow?"
"Oh, yeah," He nodded on his way down to get his bag from the floor. "Definitely."
Harry became giddy over the subject. The Gryffindor House had elected him their official Quidditch House Coach only weeks into working at Hogwarts. Of course he'd affiliate himself with his alma mater, but the fact he was so notarized by the Gryffindor student elect had him more than pleased-he was honored and would do backbends to help them succeed. He'd coached them the first time versus Hufflepuff and they won. Now, they were up against Slytherin who was a game in front of Gryffindor, making the exhibition crucial for the final game at the end of the year. Harry had brought out all his old Quidditch notes, books and the like from attic storage and bought an entirely new model Firebolt for Quidditch practice drills.
I moved farther up, now sitting on the couch. Harry, in his nature, eyeballed me and ushered me back down with his hand. Underneath his arm I could read the titles, Quidditch, Quidditch, Quidditch and Quidditch: The Ball and the Hoop, from books sliding out from under his arm as he tried to lay me back down. "Don't get up, Love. Lay back down. Going upstairs quickly and rinsing off, and I'll be straight back down to take you to bed."
"I'm fine, really," He knew I was stubborn, even with a headache.
I gave him a look and he sighed, bundling those stray books together. "Fine. Okay, I'll be right back down after I shower to eat-then, we're getting you to bed." He bent down to kiss me quickly, saying as he did, "You have circles under your eyes… I don't like that."
"That's what a vacation is for," I matched him in stride, smirking.
He grinned. "Right. Tomorrow night we'll be off and away, alone-with no one to bother us…for at least a week."
The last past came out of him weakly, and I put a stop to my giggling after her looked absolutely pathetic. "Go take your shower… I'll be right here when you get back."
"What about you?"
"What about me?" I cocked an eyebrow the moment I thought I saw that spark of mischievous light and his body language more poise in initiating something he might regret.
"You still got your makeup and all on…," he smirked. "…Care to join me?"
He stood up and offered a hand.
"You…," I swatted at the hand lightly.
He lowered to my side and silently spoke into my ear, "I simply cannot resist such a stunning creature…"
I laughed a little with my eyes closing, "Rain-check…wouldn't be any fun, anyway. I'd be rubbing my temples the whole time."
Harry moved back to his stance above me. "But, I'd do all the rubbing."
"Brilliant. You're hysterics."
"Only the truth," he stifled a laugh with a grin and went to leave for the upstairs bedroom. "I'll be right back."
"And, I'll be right here," I called out after him.
"You better be!" His voice echoed throughout the staircase.
I went to roll over, to lie back down only to find myself wide awake again. I don't know if I'd fallen asleep… I had, obvious by the tiny drool spot on the pillow I lay on. I made a grimace and turned the pillow over, making note to have it cleaned at a moment's notice. I rose up and sat on the edge of the couch for a while. Beneath the silence I could hear water running in the pipes behind the walls. The Floo-fire had died down and the smell gone from the room. The click-click noise from a grandfather clock somewhere notched the seconds I remained rooted to my spot until I finally rounded up the glass of lukewarm wine. I slipped the cell phone in my pocket and made my way, albeit drowsily, into the kitchen.
After pouring and rinsing the wine from the glass, setting it in the rack to dry, I went over to the cupboard and took out a plate. Walking by the drawer, I pulled out a fork and bumped it back with my hip. Placing the plate down beside the range, I bent down to remove the still-warm casserole with pot holders. I took off the aluminum and set it aside, flicking off the dial to the oven to off. Finding the spoon still where'd I'd kept it on the counter atop a paper towel, I dipped Harry a helping and a quarter in case he was really hungry and went over to the table.
Going back to the cupboards, I lifted out a glass for wine. Leaving it beside the fridge, I pulled forth the door to the box and uncorked the bottle I'd opened. Pouring the transparent red liquid into the rose-coloured glass, I popped the cork back on and put the bottle back on the shelf within the door only after taking out the serving of cherry jello. I was making the arrangement on the table look nice when Harry came on around. His hair was still damp and in that mess upon his head. He had on a shirt to eat which he probably wouldn't have had on. A pair of black lounge pants clung to his hips and that's where his hands were when I looked up at him from the table in a chair alongside his.
He sighed.
I shrugged and made a face at him.
"Aw. Don't look at me that way…," He came over as he talked and slipped onto the chair. I felt his hand come up behind my head, cradling it as he kissed me. Eye-to-eye he said, "You're sick, and I didn't mean you to do all this."
"Well, I did it anyway. I had to eat, too."
"And, you ate?"
I nodded. "Yeeeesss..."
"Juuuussssttt checking," he had his fork in hand, stabbing the pieces of broccoli and chicken with its four-prongs. As he did, he observed the material I'd left on the table besides the food. An envelope sat in front of him and the Daily Prophet, too, but that was more towards me.
"What's this?" He went to reach for it cautiously. "Another odd bill or a loving invitation to be interviewed by Skeeter? Like I'd give that woman the time of day."
"Well," I began, nodding a little. "You're half correct."
"Half correct?" He glanced at me confused.
"Half correct," I watched him remove the letter which was in fact…
"An invitation," He was reading. "A grand opening for a new night club in Silverpond."
"I thought…maybe…"
"The date is right inside our vacation."
"If we ever got bored, needed something to do-"
He lowered his head and eyed me over his brow, "…We'll need something to do?"
He winked.
"You're expecting sex twenty-four seven?"
"Weren't you?"
I pushed on him while he bit down on his fork-full of noodles and cream.
Of course, he laughed and lightly pushed on me, coming back like a pendulum.
I laid my head along his shoulder and silently watched him dine.
"If you want to go, I'm more than happy to go," he added, taking up his glass of wine for a sip. "I just get worried over all the publicity. You know the paparazzi will have a field day with us out-and-about."
"I don't want them to run our lives, Harry," I rubbed my cheek on the spot on his shoulder and wrapped my arms around his waist. "I say if we want to do something we do it."
"You know I hate hearing and reading all the crap Skeeter says the day after. She still hasn't come off the whole comparison of you, and Ginny, and Cho, and the rest of the females I'd ever been associated with. And, she loves degrading each and every thing you do as if you were her arch-nemesis."
"Speaking of…," I took up the Daily Prophet and unfolded to the page I'd come to hours before. "Care to read her daily slap at me?"
"Not entirely," he was halfway done with his meal, and he looked satisfied with every bite. Whenever he'd let me cook, I was happy with the result as well as Harry who scarfed the food down. Stone Age-d thinking with such a progressive man, he was thankful anyway. Not that I didn't like him cooking-I'd actually grown to like it, drowning the struggle I used to have to put on the "female"-role. Call me spoiled, but I'd still pick up and do the laundry.
"Fine. I'll paraphrase."
"And, I can get angry because I can't do anything about. Write a stern letter? Ha!" He drank from his glass and set it down a tad hard. "That would be in the next day's news. The main headline, edited and twisted."
"I've been graciously spotted at number nine." I said this with utmost sarcasm.
"'Spotted at number nine'?" Harry affixed his eyes on me, flicking them to the paper every now and then whilst chewing.
"'For the past six months, we here at the Daily Prophet have been taking a poll on who young men see as most desirable. We're calling this, 2000's Most Alluring Witch (Up Till Now)'."
"And let me guess," Harry picked up the pepper shaker and shook some on a part of the casserole he missed. He cleared his throat, putting the pepper shaker back. "Gin's number one."
"Believe it or not," I laughed a little even after reading this prior. I was surprised as much as Harry for Skeeter, the head editor and all-around owner of the Prophet in so many ways, to see Ginny NOT number one. Skeeter forever put my-belated?-best friend up against me as if we were competing. "Shade Epsilon is ranked number one. Gin's number three."
"Well damn," Harry scoffed. "Bloody well could have fooled me."
"That's not the end, though."
"With that hate-breeding loon it's never the end."
"'You'd think Miss Hermione Granger-soon to be Miss Hermione Potter-still hasn't had a clue what the men want out there, apparently. For such a well-known witch you'd think she wouldn't be caught out of the house with this little number on. Looking out-of-place, clammy, dressed like a vagrant. Miss Granger should see a fashion consultant immediately or else be a clown. What is the One, our famous Harry Potter thinking to be marrying to something that looks from the streets?'"
I paused to glance at Harry who just shrugged. He stated with little emotion to the "commentary" by saying, "Bugger-sounds like a pathetic woman seeking attention."
"They even have this picture of me in the margin here," I held the paper out to Harry to which he examined my show-and-tell. "And obviously, it's not at my best. They wouldn't dare take a photo of me actually looking good."
"When was this taken?" he asked, closely watching the photograph move of me walking into a store, my hair messy and slung in a bun, a grey sweat shirt unbuttoned and falling off one shoulder with a white tank top on. My bra-strap was evident, black to the white of the strap from my top on my shoulder. I had my aviators on and it didn't look like I'd eaten, this muscle in my neck prodding out after scrutinizing the picture. All in all, I looked about ten years older, gross and oily.
"A few weeks ago while I was out with…Ginny before…you know," I paused.
Harry looked at me and smiled, "Well, you look brilliant nevertheless."
"Ha." He humored me. "I look sweaty."
"Sweat or no, Love," he wiped his mouth on a napkin and leaned over to kiss my lips. He then looked at me without a blink. "You could wear a cardboard box and outdo any woman out there, hands down."
I bit my bottom lip and waited for him to swallow the portion of jello he'd taken in.
He knew how to string those words together to make my heart aflutter.
I kissed him the moment after I saw his Adam's apple bob, unwrapping and re-wrapping my arms about his neck loosely, enough so he could continue eating without having to maneuver around me; though, I'm sure he wouldn't mind anyway.
"So, here's a funny story," I'd left him with a goofy grin and, like fire, it made me smile. "Cho and I were in the, uh-out and about…"
I'd almost undone the surprise with the slip of the tongue.
Harry made a notion as if he knew what it was, and I'm sure he did with that wink he gave me furtively. Not that he had any idea what it looked like, he still had a good, gut feeling I assumed.
"Mhmm…," The metal spoon he held scraped the inside of the bowl. His favorite was cherry after all.
"Cho had to go to the loo, and I went to pay for my merchandise while she went. Nothing really out of the ordinary until this guy, older, elderly, steps in line. I sort of smiled at him when he smiled at me, which was kind of creepy."
"That is creepy," Harry agreed.
"He was older than daddy, like my grandfather's age. He started talking to me while the lady rung up the receipt, asking me my name-as if he didn't know-and then he was all like, `Doll, you're very pretty, how old are you?'."
Harry busted laughing, but stopped himself short with a clearing of his throat. He cocked his brow at me, an enormous smirk smug on his face. "The guy was making a pass at you? He called you `doll'?" he asked with the tint of humor still apparent in his voice.
"Yeah, and I could be like his great granddaughter," Harry shook his head and sighed, sitting the empty bowl down and settling in beside me. His back rested against the chair, his arm looped around my waist. "And I swear I caught that sod taking a look at my bum."
Harry couldn't stand it. He tried to bottle his laughter, but burst forth again. He became teary-eyed, and the more he tried to stop the more he continued.
"It was terribly disturbing. I told Cho all about it and she was doubled over laughing, and she told me she was certain you'd die when you heard the story."
Harry was coughing, caught up in the shaking. He took a deep breath and became very serious, very quickly. Sternly, he looked at me and said, "Your arse is off limits" before losing his cool and laughing some more.
I waited for him, and he finally calmed down with a "Sorry, sorry-but, thank you for that. I needed a fix after discussing that dim lot at the Prophet."
I scoffed. "I'm glad my horribly unpleasant experience helped."
"Aw…," He kissed the tip of my nose. "I'm sorry… And, thank you for dinner, Love. It was wonderful."
***
Harry didn't go to bed right away.
I went to bed, attached and laying-held-in his arms.
He sat at one of the ends so his side touched an armrest. Part of my back bent towards and lay on said armrest whilst I had my arms around him, his arms around me. He'd found the Gryffindor quilt and put it about me, and about him. His hand, the opposite from the one which cradled me, softly sifted through my hair. My headache inched away on its own due to the medication I'd taken prior to him coming home, but Harry's hands were much better at soothing the hurt.
I went to sleep, dishes washed, kitchen cleaned, lights off. The only thing illuminating the room was the ever-so-flickering of the television screen. Harry relaxed as he watched old reruns of Quidditch farther back from when we were born. He'd taken quite the liking of my Christmas gift to him, the Quidditch channel annual sport pass. He studied it for his team at Hogwarts Anything to help his team. In a way, the DA of old, with him at the lead, transferred the same passion of teaching onto this new group; though, instead of secret dueling matches it was Bludgers and Beaters. At least, for history tells all, it wasn't as violent and devastating compared to what we'd been through. That, I was thankful.
I'd grown cold. I was always cold lately. Harry would tell me I warmed him, but it was really the other way around. With my arms about his neck, my head was all but buried into his throat. The quilt was covering most of my face with only my hair dragging out in random, loose strands. The cave I created kept in his pumpkin scent and heat, the true reason why I'd slipped further in but his scent was a plus. I didn't as move much which was funny for I fidgeted in bed and didn't flail about now. I stayed still. My breathing collected. My mind somewhere in the twilight, deeply into sleep-and boy, did I need it. People say you can't catch up the sleep you've missed, but I wanted to and was well on my way come our vacation. Harry would probably dislike it-maybe-but the bed seemed nicer to sleep for now. First things first: sleep, and wake up whenever I felt like it. Eight hours. Twelve hours. Twenty-four hours. The more the better.
Stress was keeping me on pins and needles.
Endless nights of thought.
Harry might believe I was asleep, but no, I was probably wide awake thinking about this and that, the future, the present, the rift that broke me and my best friend. Could I fix it? Should I fix it? And Neville, the wedding…so soon. They'd be getting it all together after Harry and I came back. Should I still help plan? Gowns? Cake? Music? For what? Lies? I didn't understand, and when I-Hermione, the know-it-all-couldn't grasp a concept, I'd dwell until I found a solution.
Not exactly a strength.
Not exactly a weakness, either.
But, neither helped me now.
"Hey."
Roused by the quiet calling of my lover, I responded with a, "Mmm?" and not so much as a centimeter of motion.
"It's getting late," he whispered to me. "And, you said you wanted to wash up before bed."
"…What time is it?" Waking further, I grazed the bridge of my nose to the tip against Harry's neck and kissed him where I stopped.
"After midnight," he replied. I didn't hear the television on nor did I see the lights jumping sporadically. "Nearly one o'clock in the morning."
"You got to get to bed, too, you know…" My voice was a little rough-sounding, nothing mousy I'd been called out for mimicking.
Harry lightly made a chortle, his hand still scratching my head, "I'm going right with you. I just didn't want to move quickly to startle you awake. You seem pretty shot as it is."
"Mmm…," my instincts in control, I curled right back around him.
"Okay, come on…," I felt light. He'd picked me straight up. The padding of his feet gave a drum-like noise against the hollow of the stairs that kept me coming in-and-out of my tired state. Up one flight, and then the other until he let me go after closing our bedroom door behind.
Walking drunk, I stumbled over to the dresser under heavy eyelids. I realized, only after obtaining a sleep shirt that I didn't care what I wore to bed. Pushing the shirt back in, I shut the dresser drawer behind and made it to the lavatory without stepping on my feet. I could hear Harry getting ready for bed behind me and while I was in the bathroom: the sheets being pulled down, him walking back and forth between my side and his and the grunt he made after relieving himself of his shirt.
When the cool water hit my fingers, my body replied in tune. I became more, if by a little, attentive to my surroundings. Waiting, the hot water came to and I washed whatever makeup on my face off-mostly around my eyes-the black pigment swirling down the drain. I patted my face dry, dropping off the towel in the hamper on my way out. I didn't make it to the bed, sitting down in a chair halfway to tear off my shoes and toss them in the corner until tomorrow. My socks went with them, sailing in a ball-like form and bouncing off the Converse.
I had to have slept-walked to bed because in one moment I sat in a chair, the next I was on the mattress. Harry said something. He asked something. He could have asked for the moon. I didn't care. I just agreed to whatever was said and felt him at the dark-grey and black pin-striped pants I wore. My pants loosened as he undid the belt buckle. He had the fastens off and was pulling my bottoms away. I stretched my bare legs when the pants were gone, blinking quickly to see Harry folding them and putting them on his nightstand with the matching belt. The sheets felt cool, and I felt better-feeling increasingly better the moment Harry had me back in his arms. He scooped me up, pulling the sheets around our united beings, and set me on his chest.
I stopped being cold.
I stopped thinking.
Harry rubbed the back of my head and that ended my day.
I was out like a light.
***
Waking up, curled next to my man who so enveloped me with his form. Comforting, I smelled the aroma, his scent upon me: vanilla and pumpkin. The sun had raised, shades of the brightest orange coming in through a window, illuminating our world within Number 12. But, how the sun glistened, how the rays had this tinge, a sparkle as it filtered right onto our mattress felt from fairy tale. The white sheets of the bed were turned the matching hue in columns across, three identical parallel lines. They never touched our faces, merely creating the creamsicle colour around us.
I felt slightly more rested from yesterday, sliding over to flip off the machine and its beeping alarm. Blinking, going through the closest of those columns of light, I stretched upward in sitting up. Part way, I felt pulled back. Harry's arms had dropped to my waist from my upper torso, and while sleeping was taking me back to him. Like Linus, as I smiled down at him, I was his blanket.
He gave me enough room, even with the tightening of his arms, to move and I did, my hand stroking his face. My fingers, my nails lightly grazed his cheek and into his messy, strewn hair. I heard him first, and then felt him take in a breath and move to my touch. Lowering, my hair falling to one side, I met him the moment his eyes adjusted to the morning sunshine. He smiled just the second I kissed him. Sliding onto my hip, and then my abdomen, I fell on him, beside him, my arms about his shoulder and neck. He gathered his hands to the lowest part of my back and ran them up across the arch, to my shoulders and down again. Our legs, our feet were entangled and playing a bit of un buen dia-footsie.
I nudged my nose with his, Harry relaxing back on the pillow as I nuzzled into his neck. Caressing, I made a loving line down his clavicle, portions of his more exposed arm and to his chest. He had halted all the while, but began again when I'd stopped to smush my nose, my mouth into his pectoral. I couldn't get to his heart, Harry lying on his left side, so I doubly made sure to love the spot. His hands had traveled to my buttocks where they squeezed. Gasping, I should have known he'd get there eventually, finding out that was one of his favorite areas to feel.
He didn't stay there long. He only wanted to see and hear that gasp. I had my face back to his height, on my pillow, an inch away. He smirked. I smirked, and I tapped him on the nose. Naughty, just five minutes into being awake. Quietly, he laughed at my response. I kissed him again, on the lips this time, and remained fixated-our eyes never leaving each others. We laid like that, just together, two people living their moment. Our breaths even matched.
I sighed happily and closed my eyes, his hands, his fingers in my hair. He glided me to him, his lips at my forehead where he caressed me and lingered the kiss. Lightly, I clawed at the bare chest before me, measuring through touch my man-his muscle, the skin, the essence of my future.
***
We both stood in front of the master lavatory's mirror, toothbrushes in hand and brushing our teeth.
Mint chocolate toothpaste for the both of us-the irony.
We were staring at each other, into each other. One of those gazes, much like the blinking-game, but profound as if interlocked without touching.
If we weren't extrovertly happy, smiling as we do so much together, our insides were fluttering. My insides were fluttering. Ten-thousand bumble bees buzzing. Forty-six bajillion butterflies flapping. I could hardly stand it. I think I needed to sit down, but I didn't need to sit down. Antsy. Outright antsy.
I'd brush up and down.
He'd brush up and down.
I'd move side to side.
He'd move side-to-side.
I stopped.
He stopped.
Did a swirl on my tongue.
He followed suit.
I winked at him the same time he winked at me.
I scrunched up my nose, and then bit my bottom lip. I glanced up, dunking the brush underneath the faucet to see if he imitated me there and laughed a little when he kept staring. He had these…eyes, staring…just staring. Enough for me to widen mine in interest to know what he was staring at, my black eyeshadow and liner emphasizing the whites around the dark brown irises. Did I have something on my face? Something in my hair? …Was my shirt on backwards? I went into hyper-drive, well my brain did, not literally touching those areas, but examining them in my peripheral while keeping my eyes on Harry who watched me.
He finally blinked, shook his head and laughed through his nose.
He bumped me with his hip on purpose and pushed my hand from the sink.
I pushed on him back, using more force than him to make him shift back to his side.
Then, we fought with our hands, grabbing each other. I dropped my toothbrush in the sink and he dropped his.
We were laughing, I was laughing more when he caught me under my arms and began tickling. The moment I could, I grabbed the severely wet toothbrush of mine and held it up to him.
He had his in tow and smacked the side of mine, brush downward, in the palms of our hands.
"En garde!" I said, knocking his back.
"You are no match for me!" he slapped my toothbrush back, making a clink-sound of two hard plastics hitting.
He went to go in for the kill, but I knocked his hand away.
"Oh ho! Wise guy, eh?"
I shot back, coming to poke him in the stomach with my brush when he came in with a sneak attack from my blindside. I was caught. He had his left arm around my neck, being not at all rough, and placed me in a headlock. He grabbed my wrist, the hand with the brush, and set it on his hip. The black, thin sweater-like shirt gathered up at my elbow, he'd caught hold of mostly the cuffs and bracelets.
"Mwahahaa…"
I looked up at him through squints, a wry smile creasing my lips.
"You win this time…"
He smiled and kissed the mint-flavor from my mouth.
"I always win…"
He started to let me go, having thought he won when I…came in and got him! Poked him square in the ribs, the handle pushing into the crimson cloth of his dress shirt.
"Guess again, o' evil villain!"
"Oh!" He held the spot with both of his hands. His gold tie swayed as he did, becoming melodramatic. "O' dearest world, how I loved thee!"
Harry dropped his brush into the container, a two-slot hanger on the wall and started to stumble out of the lavatory still clutching his ribcage. I dropped mine in as well and took off after him. Jumping, I cleared the small distance he'd made and latched onto his back. Curling my arms around his neck, his arms instantly found and supported me underneath my knees. In the breeze I created, my hair fell around me and all over him as well, strands of cinnamon-and-mahogany brown everywhere. So much for the brushing. My black socks tightened, constricting Harry from behind while my skirt slightly rose up onto my thigh from hanging on. A small, two-striped band around the edge ran opposite to Harry's black dress pants, similar to the pale color of my exposed knees.
I stole a kiss upon his neck, while he rallied our school bags.
"You know," he said as he walked me, my bag, and himself out of the bedroom. I had my chin on my arm which was wrapped snug around him, my cheek against his ear.
"Hm?" I sighed, engrossed in happiness. Have I ever said how much I loved this man?
"I was thinking the other day about how we've never had a fight."
We were on the middle floor now, winding our way down.
"I know, right?" I had this grin on while I became sarcastic. "It's like…we're meant for each other. Simply maddening!"
He squeezed the sock covering my right calf. "Isn't it, you know…healthy for us to fight?"
"I think we're drastically unhealthy…," That grinned hadn't stopped, nor had my snark. "Call the doctor-immediately!"
"Such the jokester." We were in front of the fireplace, ready for Floo.
"Well, I have been called a clown," I hopped down from his back. "I'll set us a date."
I sounded serious.
"For what?" He turned his head and followed me as I gathered my bag and slung it over my shoulder.
I stepped in front of him, fixing his collar after I'd messed it up. I didn't look at him.
"For a fight, silly."
"You're going to set us a date…for a fight?"
I could tell his brows were knitted from his voice, and sure enough when I looked at him they were.
"Exactly," I patted the knot of his tie. My hand sifted into the Floo powder as I stepped backwards into the hearth. He followed cautiously, eyeing my strange speech. "Now, would you like Mondays or Thursdays? Because my schedule is pretty jam-packed."
He rolled his eyes and sighed out of exasperation. He picked me up beneath my arms in one, strong lift and kissed me hard. Giggling through the kiss, I dropped the powder and our surroundings lit up with the signature green flames of flight.
***
I had a free period.
Harry didn't have class.
We met for lunch and, of course, I surprised him with yet another hop on his back.
People still stared at us. Sure, it probably was considered immature, but we didn't do it during our work. Only when we had time for ourselves did we get a bit flirty, a bit more of our intimate selves. And besides, the Prophet wasn't allowed on Hogwarts property. This gave Harry and me more freedom to be ourselves without ending up as yet the next day's headline. It wasn't like we made out, too-just affectionate, playful, like kids at times. I liked this, sort of acting out those years we lost. Like Professor Dumbledore, I'm sure Minerva intended for all pieces to fall as they did, bringing both Harry and I back under the safety of this nostalgic roof.
Harry had placed my turkey sandwich and his ham sandwich in a sack with chips from the Great Hall. He carried our food, like he carried me, to a place near the lake with a great view back at the castle and the mountains on the far side. Unlike our normal pattern, today was sunny with wisps of clouds to break the summer glow. The grass was so green against our dark clothes, vivid, blades of emeralds. The wind brought a chill, the trees around us swaying with each individual leaf twirling in the breeze. If one would listen closely, you could hear the knotted Whomping Willow twisting against our zephyrs.
Other students were out enjoying the light. Actually, practically the entire student body was outside eating, or reading, or running around. Someone had brought out a Frisbee and a group threw it around beside us when we made it to a spot along the water. I quickly kissed Harry's cheek and down I went coming to my feet. I took the bag while Harry fell down upon the wavy grass. Following him, I sat crisscross, perpendicular to him as his feet had fallen in the direction of the lake. A slight hill we relaxed on, so I sat sideways but nothing noticeable from my point of view. If we hadn't been here for the longest time, we wouldn't have realized the earth going towards the lake anyway.
Reaching into the bag, I took out his sandwich first. Amidst loosening his tie, I handed him his lunch and a bag of chips. He sat up on his elbows and dove right in, really before I could even take my hand away. He made this obvious bite and snarled, making me shake my head and chomp into mine. I reached into my bag I'd put down at my hip and pushed down my skirt from flittering in the wind. Slipping on my aviators, I could feel the coolness on my knobby knees. I didn't dare look at them for fear of being blinded, reflecting off from the sun.
I'll never tan.
We unwound without a word, being at ease, just taking it in.
The only sound in those minutes came from when he or I would slide our hand into the chip bag and the foil crinkled. I had a water bottle I always carried with me in my bag, and Harry had one too, to quench our thirst. The pumpkin juice became a little too sweet after drinking it every day, and I rubbed off on Harry after making it a routine to fill mine up the night before.
I wished my time here was like this-without what had happened. Without all the drama of now. Me, and Harry, our friends-especially the ones we could no longer see. And, Harry's parents and my parents, and the Weasley's, and even Ron whenever he wasn't being himself. Harry had really assisted in the healing process, helping me get over the trauma of not only our past, but of my past with Ronald. Not that I'd go up and hug the boy, but I could probably tolerate him more now with the help and backing of my beloved. He had helped me grow as a human being without all the chains that had barred me from pursuing my own interests, pursuing my life.
I wondered, sitting there beside him-my fiance, and soon to be husband-how many other women could say the same about their boyfriends, fiances or husbands?
I felt lucky to have someone so endearing to my nature, to my needs and my wants.
I only hoped in retrospect that I gave back to him all one hundred percent he gave me.
Harry's face turned back from watching a seagull skim across the lake, creating a ripple, to the front where he met me. I'd come around and hovered over him the second he'd come back. I caught him unaware, collapsing a makeshift curtain by my hand for privacy and kissed him.
I heard a "Mm…" express from his mouth with my release, his hand sliding to the exposed knee closest to him where he squeezed.
I sat back up in a smile, peering down at him through my sunglasses.
"You're coming to the game later?"
"Have I missed one yet?"
"Mm…," he smirked. "Come back down here…"
"Harry…," Doing as told, I met him again and put up my hand, blocking out our scene of intimacy from view. Not like people wouldn't know what we were doing. I'm sure some airhead thought I was actually giving Harry mouth-to-mouth. Maybe he fell into the lake?
"Tell me."
That voice wasn't Harry's.
That voice startled me, coming out of nowhere, from behind me.
I pulled away from Harry and glanced around to see the unlit, uneven form of Xavier towering over us.
It was pretty frightening, actually. Him in his black robes and a shadow across his face. I could only really tell who it was by the pointy blonde hair atop his head.
"Is this how adults act on the clock?" He wasn't really smirking. He wasn't really smiling. I couldn't tell what his expression was, but I felt cold, whatever it was.
I was more than a little perturbed. I heard the haughty, better-than-you Slytherin in his mouth.
"May I help you, Xavier?"
"Is this Xavier?" Harry asked, putting his hand up to block the sunlight from his face.
My eyes flicked from my love, and back to Xavier.
This would be the first time they actually met. I thought Xavier stayed away from Harry like the plague-I thought wrong by this awkward and more than slightly odd occurrence. Harry thought the boy was all talk and no walk, a kid with a little too much hormones, but now they were seeing each other up close and personal. At least moreso on Harry's side of the fence.
Xavier didn't react as if Harry was there. He just kept his dark eyes on me.
"I thought you'd like to know that I got an eighty-nine on my essay both you and I worked on," Seething anger fell from Xavier's lips. If he'd been a rabid dog, his froth would have spilled over on me. "But, I see you're busy. I'm sure the Headmistress didn't hire you to be felt up in front of the entire class."
"Excuse me?" Scoffing, I was taken aback by such audacity.
Harry was on his behind, having sat up from where he lay. He had his hand still above his brow which was bunched together, coming toward his nose. I was sure he'd gotten angry by Xavier disrespectful attitude at me. I was sure if he were more animalistic he'd growl. "I believe you owe Hermione an apology whoever you are."
Harry was rather firm in speech, acute with every word.
"I'll be having a word with Headmistress about your flaunting sexual activities, Granger," I couldn't see him breathe. Was Xavier moving at all? He stood as still as a statue, breathing this hatred on us-on me. "I'm sure she'd like to hear all about the promiscuity of one she holds so highly."
I couldn't say anything.
Not because I was fearful of the threat he had said about contacting Minerva, as we hadn't done anything wrong by any means.
It was the fact that I didn't want to say anything-I wanted to act. I wanted to slap him, hit him, sock him right in the jaw for being so uncontrollably ridiculous. He reminded me of a certain someone from the past. Someone who had an affinity of calling me by my last name and getting a thrill of me reeling in irritation. He'd say it as if my name were malignant, the disease of our species-the "Mudblood". I saw it every day, scarred into my arm. I heard this filth coming from Xavier for the first time. I had evidence that he didn't like me with Harry, but this crossed a line. Now, he was in our bubble and spat on us.
He turned without another word and left us watching his backside, going towards that safety of Hogwarts castle.
Clouds began to roll in blocking out the sun.
{Inspirations for the Chapter: I had the most difficult time trying to find a title for this chapter. There's a lot of changing moods going on, and I was listening to a lot of U2. I came up with the title when I was actually reading comments of U2's lyrics and how cryptic they could be to the listener. No one is right and everyone is right at the same time. I'm not entirely sure about it, but for right now it works}
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