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A/N: The Disclaimer - I don't any characters in this fic, they're all JK's...does anyone put that in anymore?

Chapter VII: Accidents

While Harry was looking at nearly the entire summer being spent at Hermione's, that did not mean he would accept not seeing Ron at least several times, along with a visit at the famous Burrow. He particularly missed Molly Weasley's even more famous cooking - the thought of her chicken and potato borsch alone made his mouth water. It was nothing personal against Emma Granger, because her own cooking was stellar - and Mr. Granger pitched in to great effect himself, but Mrs. Weasley still took the culinary crown. Hermione would never admit this to her parents, and she compelled Harry to do the same; he was only too happy to oblige.

Remus had been out of touch for the last several days, Hermione's parents were gone for most of the day, and Harry and Hermione effectively had had the run of the house to themselves. The days were getting longer and hotter, and the Grangers' pool was a welcome relief, both from the heat and the slightly noticeable monotony that was beginning to make itself felt.

It was the first time Harry had seen Hermione in a bikini, and admittedly, she wore them less often than she liked to, as Hogwarts life and her summer academic drive provided far fewer occasions previously to do so. Now, however, as there was a boy by her side at nearly all times, Hermione found herself liking the exercise and even more so watching Harry's slightly awkward reactions when she purposely lingered in his sights for longer periods.

"You know, Harry, you could come and join me," she smiled at him. He was sitting in a pool chair, flicking disinterested through one of his books. "And since when did you get such an interest in academics?"

"Must be you, Hermione," he said, chiding himself for feeling so strange, seeing Hermione both so liberated and at ease with herself - this was a side of her he had never seen before and the teenage boy in him found the experience frustrating.

"You can stop pretending to read, Harry. I've caught you staring at me from upstairs."

If there was a limit to how crimson one could turn, Harry was positive he had just surpassed it. "That's not true," he mumbled.

"So you like it when I change out here?"

"No!"

She smirked. "No?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"No."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I mean - "

Harry had to concede. For all his stealth, he had been discovered. "I don't mind it."

"There, now was that so hard?"

"No," he stared fixedly at the book.

"Is the book really more interesting than me, Harry?"

Harry enjoyed his chance. "Oh, yes, definitely." He held it up for her to see: Quidditch. A History.

"Quidditch is more interesting to you than me?" she looked affronted.

"You better believe it!"

He just managed to see the splash that came his way instead of a response and held out the book barely out of reach of the water.

"Hey!"

"Am I still more interesting than Qudditch?"

"Don't make me come in there, Hermione."

"I do hope you will," she pulled herself up by the side of the pool, leaned forward and smiled sweetly. Our hero found himself cornered and flushing to the roots of his hair once more.

"Give me two minutes."

Between dropping off the book in the guest bedroom, putting his swimming shorts on and finding himself in the pool next to Hermione, Harry found he came fifteen seconds ahead of the mark he had set himself.

"That was fast," Hermione commented, smiling.

"For you, always."

He thought he spoke too soon, but it was too late now.

Hermione kicked off the wall and swam a length to the deep end. Watching her move, Harry `s mind reeled. Why couldn't he get a handle on himself?

"You coming?"

The water was still uncomfortably cool to the touch, as it always is when one enters a pool for the first time, but he took the plunge anyway. Water filled his nose and he screwed his eyes against the stinging chlorine, but pushed off the wall anyway and with a splash that probably scared the neighbours' car, he was off.

After the task in the lake during the tournament, he had become an expert swimmer, but he doubted he would ever be as graceful as she was, going across the pool. Then, his hand touched a leg and he immediately surfaced.

Either he had gone off course, as often happened in pools, or Hermione had surreptitiously moved in his way - he couldn't tell. Yet again, he found himself flustered.

"You do know how to swim well, Harry," she commented. "I'm impressed."

"Well, the tournament wasn't all magic," he smiled coyly for the first time. Maybe he had the upper hand on her now.

"You don't say!"

He looked at her. `I'll race you."

Easy pickings, Harry thought. There was no way she could match his speed.

Hermione's face turned serious for a brief second, and then her eyes shone in that way Harry adored so much when she was about to tackle something challenging. "You're on."

That image and her dripping hair, all of it barely half a foot away, would not help him concentrate on the swimming. He thought he would have to reconsider the upper hand thought of a minute ago.

"On three, then," she said. "I'll count it off."

He nodded.

"One."

Focus on the other end of the pool, he reminded himself.

"Two."

Narrowed eyes, set chin, flared nose, that barely noticeable smirk of confidence and - oh yes - the golden-brown dripping hair hanging off her cheek -

"Three."

You sap.

Hermione shot off and Harry took a half second extra to get his bearings. Then he launched himself off the side of the pool, making the biggest strokes he possibly could to catch up.

For once, the fact he was physically stronger helped him. On one of the consecutive breaths he glimpsed Hermione slightly falling behind him. Splashing madly from the extra effort he tried to muster getting ahead meant he had probably watered half the lawn already, but that did not matter as long as he won!

Which, incidentally, would have been amazing had his head not been the first thing to impact the finish line. Caught up in the inertia, he failed to anticipate it, and a low, thudding pain spread from the top of his forehead and down into his neck and back, as he grimaced instinctively. Shooting up, Harry grabbed his head hard, trying to will the pain away, face still compressed with the pain.

"Harry?"

Hermione's voice was distant, but he squinted his eyes to look at her. The very act made the pain worse.

"Oh, no, did you - "

She didn't have to read minds to deduce what happened. Nevertheless he nodded - that felt someone had stabbed his brain and he hissed with the consequent pain.

"My, oh my, come here," Hermione guided Harry towards the ladder - he walked gingerly, trying not to aggravate his still throbbing head.

He stepped out, and dry land coupled with the warm air to knock some sense back into him. Hermione got up the ladder after him. "Let's get you some ice."

"No, Hermione, I'm fine," he grimaced, trying to dismiss the woozy feeling and the ringing in his ears.

Walking wasn't difficult, but he could his brain shaking with every step.

"You need to lie down, Harry."

"That I can do," he said quietly. "And I'll take the ice."

She gave him a towel and put him on the couch in the living room.

"At least you won," her voice carried from the kitchen over the sound of ice cubes clanging together in a glass.

"I should've let you won," he replied with a hint of bitterness. "Some price to pay."

"You will hit walls right on, Harry," she came back in the living room, holding a hand towel that contained the ice. "That's what I like about you."

She applied the bundle to the top of his head. "Now, hold it there."

He leaned back, allowing his head to rest against the couch. "Where are you going?"

She leaned into his ear. "You sit tight. I'm going to slip into something more comfortable."

The faster heart rate did nothing to help the headache. He groaned inwardly.

Hermione left for the second floor and Harry was left alone with his headache and thoughts for company.

The nagging thought was why he was so nervous around Hermione today. They had spent a lot of time together and were great friends before, so he did not understand what the problem could be. It was like a figurative wall he could not figure out, much like the one he met today. Maybe that was the metaphor for whatever he was feeling, the thought pierced the headache for a brief moment.

And then she emerged - wearing nothing more than a tank top, shorts, barefoot and the hair in a messy bun she was still stitching up. Yet, the effect on him was profound.

"You okay, Harry?"

Had his chin been down?

"Fine, Hermione, fine. Head still hurts a bit."

"Give me that ice."

He handed it to her. Then she went behind him and put her fingers on his temples, rubbing them in slow circles.

If he had to be honest with himself, the warmth and touch of her fingers was much more preferable to the coldness of the ice.

"You might as well keep going," he told her. "My head isn't feeling too well."

"With a blow like that, I'm not surprised," she rejoined. "I'm glad it isn't any worse."

"I'll be careful next murmured." Closing his eyes really made the feeling even more enjoyable.

"Make sure you're not too eager next time," she breathed into his ear.

There she went again. Now he was eager enough to bash his head twice, at least. And, there went that annoying heartbeat once more.

"I won't," he promised. Had she noticed anything?

"Do you want to go for a walk after?"

"Maybe, if my world stops spinning before then," Harry said. "I hope it does."

"Shall I keep it spinning?"

"Not today, but tomorrow, I don't think I'd have any objections." For some reason, he thought about visiting Ron and the Weasleys soon - but he could to Hermione about it later.

Hermione went on with the temple massage for another half hour and Harry was immensely thankful for it. The headache had effectively begun to subside, although his neck began to feel a dull soreness.

"Thank you, Hermione."

"Anytime, Harry."

She stepped over the back of the couch and plopped next to him, took his arm and draped it over her shoulders.

"Now what?"

"You are amazing at this," Harry commented. "I think I'm primed for a nap - that's really about enough excitement I can handle for one day."

"What about our walk?" Hermione looked at him.

"After," he shrugged. "Don't you want to have a nap with me?"

In fact, having her pressed up against him was unleashing a brew of sensations he hadn't felt since that brief fling with Cho the previous year, and this time they were a lot more interesting.

Hermione snuck a kiss in. "Okay."

A/N: I don't think the light n funny fics are my thing. Any ideas for dark and stormy chapters ahead?

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