A/N: Here is a little story that has been inspired by a book I read the other day. It won't be updated as often as The Real Potter as I am trying to take a different approach to this fanfiction – the chapters will be longer, the descriptions will be better and the story will hopefully appeal to more people. Take a little look and post me a review telling me whether I should continue or not, please? A little bit, wait, a lotta bit of angst. Gotta love that angst.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Awkward Kisses and Bittersweet Stolen Moments
Chapter One – Where It All Began
It was a first for Hermione Granger. Definately out of the ordinary and most certainly the first and last time it would happen. For once, she was taking an interest in her appearance.
Compact mirrors, bottles of foundation and eyeliner pencils lay scattered across what would usually be the dark oak counter top of her desk. When buying her flat in Diagon Alley, it was her bedroom that sealed the deal. In fact, it was the large floor to ceiling window that covered the back of her first floor. The tall pane of glass, which had a ornate, mahogany stained edging surrounding it, looked out into the square of greenery that just brought that little bit of normality to the area.
In the four years since the Final Battle, the Wizarding World had changed dramatically. Everything had become much more industrialised and cramped as everyone moved from the countryside to the central areas in hope of, well, finding love. Before Voldemort had been vanquished, people lived in the outer areas in a hope that they wouldn't be found. After, people had started moving in. People started to be brave and just thank Merlin for being alive. People started meeting each other and people started to fall in love.
Wizards flocked to the centre and soon those precious moments became less and less frequent and every time was savoured before been swallowed up into memory. The greenery brought peace to the hustle and bustle of the city. It was a sanctum, providing that little bit of sanity to her busy life. It was best when it rained.
Hermione inhaled at the memory, the scent of the dewy grass filling her airways. She'd always loved the rain.
It had been a close, summer evening. You could feel the humidity rising in the air leaving the dry air to choke on. Hermione had resided to reading in her flat, the binding resting on the inside of her thigh. She chewed instinctively on her bottom, chapped lip and twiddled a front strand of her hair around the index finger of her left hand as she concentrated on the words flowing from the page.
CRACK!
"Merlin!" Hermione exclaimed, "What in the world was that?"
SMASH!
She jolted up from her curled position, turned in the direction of the commotion and saw a tall, raven haired man standing at her doorway holding the remains of a vase in his hands, "Shit."
Hermione stood up, her bare feet thumping against the wood of the floor, "Harry?" she said, "What are you doing here at," she stopped to consult the clock on the wall, "half twelve at night?"
He shuffled on his feet, and sheepishly clasped a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing the nonexistent tension from it, "I wanted to see you?" he answered, hoping that it was the right answer.
Her lips curved into a smile, "And you just thought you'd come in and smash my vase as well? Well, it is nice to see you too."
He choked a smile, looking down at the pieces in his hands, "I suppose you'll want these."
He outstretched his arms, his cupped hands grasping all the shards of the vase. She smiled and took her wand from the pocket of her soft pink dressing gown before pointing it at the remains. She paused for thought.
"What?" Harry asked, breaking the silence between them.
"I'm thinking Harry," she replied, taping the end of the wand against her chin.
Smirking, Harry spoke, "That's a first."
A small scowl wrinkled her forehead as she momentarily stopped tapping, "Got it," she mumbled to herself.
She pointed the wand at the shards and spoke, "Reparo."
The pieces of the blue, flowered crockery clicked together like a jigsaw mid-air as her hand fluttered from the incantation. And that's when she heard it.
It was soft and almost recognisable at first but nevertheless she heard it. She dropped her hand, and hastily shoved her wand into her pocket. She stopped and heard it again. It was enough to confirm it and jumped up and down with excitement.
Harry looked at her, feeling like he was missing something, "What is it?"
She gasped and looked at him, "It's raining."
His eyebrows knitted together in thought, "And?"
"And?" she imitated, "And? What do you mean 'and?' – it's raining!"
She ran over to the door and pulled on her wellington boots over the soft flannel of her pyjama bottoms. Harry followed her to the door, "I still don't understand you Hermione."
She crouched down to make sure all the trouser was tucked into the boot, and looked up at him as soon as he had spoken. She stood up and looked him square in the face, an unfamiliar and mischievous twinkle in her eye, "I'll show you."
She took hold of his hand, clasping his fingers firmly around hers before she flung open the front door. She yanked at his hand which caused him to stumble forward closer to her. She threw her head back, and laughed at his clumsiness, "Come on! We'll miss it!"
She ran down the stairs to the ground floor of her apartment block and out into the street, losing hold of Harry's hand as she reached the front door. There she just stood in the rain. The water soaked through her clothes and yet she just stood there smiling, no wait, grinning at the sight. She looked up at the sky and opened her mouth to scream with happiness.
She jumped up and down on the pavement, splashing the fresh rainwater up onto her legs. Her green wellies were almost recognisable in the darkness of the night but yet she stared down at the glistening coat that the rain had created against the rubber.
Looking up at Harry, her fringe plastered against her forehead, she grinned, "What are you waiting for?"
Excitement itched Harry to run outside. He could feel the pulse compelling him to run out into the pouring rain and scream. And so he did. He ran out into the rain and within seconds he was soaked to the skin, his clothes resembling those of Hermione's.
He seized her hand and pulled her along, "Come on! Now you've got me out here, let me have my fun."
He cheekily raised his eyebrows at her and cocked his head to the left in the direction of the vast green space that Hermione's flat looked out onto. He pulled her onto the grass but lost his footing and went crashing to the ground, pulling her with him. The mud stained the back of his black jacket but he didn't care.
She turned her head so she was facing Harry as she lay on the ground, "Yeah, this seems fun."
He cackled, his voice laced with wickedness as he spread his arms and legs out in a starfish fashion, "Ever heard of snow angles?" he shouted up the sky above the pitter patter on the rain against the tarmac near them.
"Oh no," she replied, "You're not going to... oh, Merlin you are. Harry..." she trailed off.
He started sliding his legs and arms in the mud beneath him keeping his eyes fixed on hers, "Your turn."
She sat up, "No way am I doing that Harry. I like the rain, not getting muddy in the rain!"
"Don't say I didn't warn you," he said before he pulled her to the ground again.
She toppled on top of him, their faces inches apart. Seconds passed, mere seconds, before Harry crushed his lips to hers. She closed her eyes and fell into the kiss, wrapping her sodden arms around his torso. He hungrily pushed her over so he was on top. He brought his lips back and studied her beautiful face beneath him before silencing her before she could say something rational and stop all this happening.
She moaned at the sweetness that he tasted of and at the soft kisses that he proceeded to run down her neck. She curled her arms around his and pushed him up so that they sat up and whispered softly, "I've never done this before."
He broke and looked at her face, and pushed the fringe from her face, "Don't worry, neither have I."
She smiled and he ran a finger over her bottom lip before uttering, "You are so goddamn beautiful."
She blushed and looked down awkwardly at the floor, "Um... thanks I suppose."
He gazed up at her face and studied her confused features, "Just take the compliment Hermione."
Laughing at the urgency of the kisses that he had trailed up to the side of her mouth and what he just said, "I am."
She pushed her hands across his chest and across the see through fabric of his white shirt. Her hands shaking, she undid the buttons to expose his torso to the rain. He watched her fumbling hands, "Let me get that for you."
He helped her undo the rest of his buttons and she spoke as he worked, "I never thought it would be like this."
After undoing his last button he looked up and stroked her cheek, "Neither did I, but I'm glad it is."
He started the pull her pyjamas from above her head and she spoke, "Are you not nervous or..."
"Shhh," he silenced her, "You talk too much."
Awkward kisses and awkward laughs added to the bittersweet moment that they were sharing. Neither of them even stopped to think whether it was right or wrong. Neither of them questioned each other's actions. In that respect they were learning from each other. Never pausing to contemplate the precautions they should take, never breaking to understand the implications that had turned from their platonic friendship. They just presumed that it would last forever.
Hermione sighed as she looked out of her window – sitting on the stool that accompanied the desk. She shifted uneasily on the deep red velvet cushion underneath her and she looked from the sight out of the window. She smiled, a plain and yet bittersweet tint to her happiness.
A tall, blonde man walked on the grass, a white brimmed hat covering his head from the blazing sun. In his hand sat another person's hand, her skin a milkier complexion than his. He gave her hand a squeeze and looked down lovingly at her. Sensing his touch, she tilted her up to his shyly and smiled.
"Awkward signs of a first date," Hermione muttered to herself, her breath no more than a whisper.
She snapped out of her trance, and switched her vision to the beige powder in front of her. She took the brush and slowly swirled it around the contents of the pot. She glanced up at the mirror that she had conjured to float in front of her and delicately brought the brush up to her right cheek. She stared into the eyes of the image and absentmindedly brushed the powder on her face. The brushing became slower and slower and eventually she stopped and the brush fell through her fingertips onto the wood.
She didn't even flinch or even remotely recognise the sound that it had made; she was too busy wrapped up in the silence and solitude that her life had become. Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she fought them back with words of encouragement from her conscience.
Don't give in to them Hermione, it spoke, we know how much it hurts.
She closed her eyes slowly and inhaled deeply before looking at herself in the mirror, "What a mess," she spoke to her image, "What a mess I have got myself into."
She ran a hand up her face and over the top of her ponytailed hair. She rested her hand on her forehead and pushed her emotions into the grip. She looked down at her knees and whimpered helplessly.
"No," she said, pushing herself on, "It'll happen. Just you wait and see."
The wounds cut deeper and the lies got thicker. The more she told herself everything was gonna turn out fine, the more and more she started to believe it, sheltering herself from him.
Him. The words her brain spat – couldn't even mention his name without her heart panging and the dry lump rising up her throat. She coughed and cleared her throat but the lump didn't want to go.
So she just sat there, speechless and helpless brushing her face with stuff she didn't even know the name of. She scoffed, "I don't know why I even bother sometimes."
She did. She knew fine well what everything was for. Him.
She violently pulled the wand from the mascara tube which caused her to stab herself in the eye, "Oh for Merlin's sake."
That's what did it. That's what broke the barrier. The end of her nose turned a shade of pink and her eyes glazed over. She stared at the broken heart in the mirror, never moving her eyes. Not blinking, blinking would push the tears further and further out of her sheltered soul. She just stared completely apathetic and her mind devoid of emotion.
Her glazed-over eyes let a single tear drop down her cheek, not even moving to wipe it away. It just tumbled down her face and clung to the bottom of her chin. She sniffed and broke from the stare, wiping the tear from her chin and wiping the path it had took down her face.
"Right," she said to herself, "Right, right, right, right, right."
She took the mascara to her eyelashes and applied it, this time taking extra care not to poke it in her eye. She started talking to herself again, "It's not like anything was ever going to become of it. He was just forgetting all the hatred he had seen. All the war, all the violence. That's all it was," she scoffed at her realisation and put down the mascara on the desktop, "Just sex."
She felt herself wanting to sit and sob, "Just sex."
She stood up from her chair and took the robe that she had wore over her underwear when she had been putting her makeup. She looked in the full length mirror and took off her robe. She just stood there and looked at the small bruise that had appeared over her collarbone. She rubbed it gently with her fingertips and sighed. Last week was all it took. They couldn't even be in the same room as each other without having to push back the sexual tension that hung in the air between them. Everywhere and anywhere. Adventurous and risky sex.
She turned to her wardrobe and put on a knee length black dress and a pair of black heels. Simple, elegant and not too revealing. She didn't want him to want her, especially at the announcement of his engagement.
She choked. His engagement and all this sneaking around had to stop. She never thought that she would be involved in an affair, never mind the one that is pulling the husband-to-be away from his future wife and all their normality and happiness.
She felt dirty and ashamed. She never wanted anyone to be hurt. In fact, she would rather she was the one hurting, but she couldn't bring herself to stopping it all.
She rushed around her room collecting her prize belongings and putting them in a simple, black clutch bag that matched the silver necklace that hung around her neck and the silver charm bracelet to match.
Walking out of her bedroom and into the living area, she took the keys from the table beside the door, next to the vase. She touched the vase and shuddered with pleasure at the thought of what happened last time.
"This night is going to be insatiable as far as restraining will go," she said, "Oh Merlin."
A/N: I hope you liked it. I don't know so much about it yet, but I have a feeling it's going to go somewhere good!