Harry and I are quite good at pretending things didn't happen. We're both quite good at ignoring the elephant in the room, so it was no surprise that when I showed up for breakfast the next morning Harry, Ron, Ginny and I all ate and talked as usual. In fact, everything was so normal I began to think I'd imagined that anything more than a hug had happened on Harry's part and it was all on me. He was probably confused as to why I'd run away so quickly.
Actually I should say that Ron, Ginny and I talked. Harry has grown quite reticent since Voldemort's demise, and I don't know how to help him out of the shell he's disappearing into. Ginny tells me they don't do anything when they're alone together. He won't snog, he won't shag, he won't talk. She says he doesn't feel ready to be with anyone right then.
"I spent years waiting for him once," Ginny said. "He broke up with me and went off to fight Voldemort, and I waited again. He comes back and I think 'Finally! We can be together.' We're not, though. He's cold, Hermione. He won't open up. If I don't speak, we don't talk."
"Maybe he just needs to know you're there for him. Instead of talking, just sit with him, hold his hand, be ready to listen," I respond.
"I've tried that. He always gets up and leaves and goes walking somewhere alone. Do you think there's someone else?" Ginny is so frustrated. I really feel for her.
"No," I say sincerely. If Harry was seeing someone else, I'd know about it. Everyone would. He couldn't sneeze without it making the Daily Prophet.
"I don't want to sound selfish, Hermione, but Harry's not the only one to go through hell in the war. He's not the only one to lose family to Voldemort. He didn't get to know his parents, but I got to know Fred quite well and I'm not closing myself off to those who love me."
"People grieve in different ways, Ginny. This is Harry's."
Ginny's eyes brim with unshed tears when she says "There was a time when I would have said I'd wait forever for him, and I would have meant it."
"But not now?"
Ginny shook her head and left me standing at the bathroom sink with an open tube of lip gloss and my heart pounding in turmoil. I should have been alarmed at those words, but for some reason I felt profoundly relieved that Ginny would rather walk than wait for Harry to come around, but then I doubt she really means what she's saying. She's angry and confused, and I understand that.
Actually, it doesn't take me long to feel ashamed for hoping they never work things out.
Our potions exams went well. Ron received an A, Harry and Ginny received E's. I, of course, got an O but I felt no pride in it like usual. I was too tired from three straight nights of increasingly filthy dreams about Harry. I wake from them, panting and sweating, feeling less disgust and more frustration at having some physical and emotional need that wasn't being met.
In last night's dream, I could feel Harry pressing me against a wall. My legs were splayed around him, my weight was on the tips of my toes, and Harry's hard cock was pressing against my clit. His tongue was in my mouth, his cock felt so hard and so real and so damned good. When I awoke Ginny was shaking me.
"Hermione, you sound like you're getting shagged right good," Ginny said with sleepy amusement. I knew she wouldn't be amused at all if she knew it was Harry I dreamed of instead of Ron.
"Sorry," I say breathlessly.
Ginny shrugs. "We all have dreams like that."
October comes to an end with the usual Halloween feast. The trip to Hogsmeade is crowded with third years eager to see the town. The older the student, the less the enthusiasm. Harry walks ahead of us, his hands shoved deep into his trouser pockets, and Ginny beside him. She loops a hand through his arm. He makes no effort to hold it.
Ron, who feels at liberty with my body, squeezes my bum and makes the students behind us laugh. I push him off. It's one thing for him to touch me in private, but not walking down the street. He looks put off but tries to stay good natured about it all, thank God. I really don't want another row.
"I'll meet you all at the Three Broomsticks in an hour. I have an appointment," I announce.
"Where are you going?" Harry asks, opening his mouth for the first time that morning.
"Oh, he speaks!" Ginny says sarcastically, and stalks off into the village.
"Are you ignoring her again?" Ron asks Harry. "Look, mate, if you're finished with Ginny, have the decency to tell her. Don't string her along."
"I'm not stringing her along. I told her I need some space. It's not my fault if she won't give it to me."
"Boys, please," I say, sensing a fight coming.
"Are you saying she's clingy?" Ron demands.
Harry shakes his head. He's having none of it, thankfully. "I'll see you later for drinks."
"You won't see us. Hermione and I have plans. Go drink by yourself, Harry. It's not like you plan to talk our ears off anyway."
"Ron!" I say, when Harry's out of earshot.
"What? Don't tell me you're going to stick up for him when he's being a prat!"
"He's going through a lot right now."
"Do you know how many times you've said that since school started? At least twenty times. No exaggeration. I'm tired of hearing it. You need to worry less about Harry and more about us. We need some time alone."
I know I shouldn't, but I feel so angry with Ron for being so willing to walk away from Harry that I snap back with "Do you know how many times you've said that since school started? At least a thousand. No exaggeration. I'm tired of hearing it. We need some time apart."
"You're going to run after him, aren't you?" Ron accuses me.
"One of us should."
***
I get my hair cut as scheduled. Nothing too short, but something that makes good use of my naturally bushy hair. I know I'll never have silky locks like Ginny. Well, not unless I use tons of hair potion every day, and I'm not about to do that. As I've grown older, though, I've really begun to take more of an interest in my hair, my clothes, and makeup. I've also started to work on staying current on the latest Magic and Muggle fashions, hairstyles, and trends in makeup. Right now the vamp look is in with witches, so I'm skipping that in favor of a natural look.
I leave the salon with my new haircut. My head feels twenty pounds lighter, and it's no wonder. I have a fashionable cut that holds down the frizz with cute silver clips and beads. My hair still comes down past my ears, but it'll be much easier to manage now. Nobody from school recognizes me at first glance, and I'm getting plenty of first glances. Especially from the boys.
Harry is in a booth in the Three Broomsticks alone. Ginny's at the bar, and I hope she's getting drinks for her and Harry but she's not. She's sitting with a few girls from Hufflepuff and studiously ignoring Harry. She walks right past me without realizing who I am.
"Harry?"
He looks up at me and his green eyes widen. His face breaks into a grin.
"Hermione! Look at you! You're lovely. Sit down."
I feel so stupid for feeling so good at those few words of praise. I feel especially stupid that my heart quickens when he reaches up and tugs at a few stray, bushy wisps of hair. He looks into my eyes and immediately puts his hand down.
So something did happen with that hug. It wasn't all my imagination…unless of course he doesn't feel comfortable touching his best friends girlfriends hair.
"I knew you'd come," he says.
"Harry, I want to ask you something personal."
"Yes, I'm finished with Ginny."
"That's not it," I say, but it's good to know.
"Why am I being a wanker and not just saying it flat out?" Harry shrugs. "I don't want to hurt her. I like her."
"No, that's not it either."
Harry laughs. It's the first laugh I've heard from him since school started. "Then what is it?"
"Why are you so sad?"
Harry gulps down some mead. He doesn't look up at first. I think he's not going to answer, and maybe he'll even be angry that I asked.
"I'm not sad. Not over the war, or Voldemort, if that's what you're talking about."
"Then what's bothering you?"
"Something's missing," he said frankly. I thought he'd tell me he doesn't know, but he does know. At least a little bit.
"That something is?"
"I don't know."
He's holding back. I can feel it.
"Ginny? She loves you, Harry. She's lost a lot in the war, and you're all she's ever really wanted."
"I care about Ginny."
"Then be kinder to her, Harry. She's loves you and she's hurting."
"I try to be her friend, but she wants more and...and I don't. I'm not going to string her along, Hermione. It wouldn't be fair to her. I'm not going to trap myself in a relationship I know I don't want just to keep pretending everything is perfect."
I know he's dropping a hint about my relationship with Ron. The fact that he thinks I'm trapping myself out of some sense of denial stings, but I let it pass. It's not true. It's a misconception on Harry's part.
"I miss our friends. I miss the good people we lost to the war, but I've accepted they're gone forever and there's nothing I can do about it."
"But…" I prompt.
"Hermione, don't make me say it."
"You don't have to. I just want to help you."
Harry looks me in the eye again. "You do. Every time I see you."
You can never know what I'm feeling right now, looking into those green eyes and seeing the Boy Who Lived deep inside the Man I-
I look away. I promise that I will never finish that thought.
"Drink?" Harry asks.
His hand is on my leg. It's not indecently high up, but he's got a good grip. His hand is strong and warm on the inside of my knee. Like a fool I part my knees just a tad and hold very still, wondering what the hell I'm doing sending a signal like that to a man I know is feeling vulnerable. I pray to God he doesn't get it, that he's clueless. I'm Ron's girl, but it's Harry's hand I want on my thigh. I feel guilty already.
Harry moves his hand up an inch and puts it a little further on the inside of my leg before squeezing lightly.
He's not clueless at all. He got the signal.
He wants it.
"I need a drink," I shakily whisper. I catch my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. I look unsettlingly pale, and I know exactly what I'm going to look like in twenty-five years. I can't imagine how Harry heard me over the din in the room, but he did. He slides his hand from my leg.
"I'll get it," Harry says.
I'm gone by the time he returns to the table. I think he knew I would be.