Harry Potter and the Loss of Chasity

Harry Potter was confused. Maybe confused wasn't an apt term to describe how he felt, quite the contrary; he knew exactly where he was, what was happening, and why it was happening. It would be more accurate to say that he still couldn't believe that he was underneath a half-naked Hermione, feeling her breath on his neck, her nimble fingers in his hair, her lithe body melting into his own chiseled one. Looking back he realized that this was caused by his own nobility. He chuckled to himself as he recalled the events that took place a scant few hours ago.

I had just managed to escape Slughorn's grasp, bloody bastard was just using me as a show pony. Kept showing me off to every Ministry Official, Quidditch Player, and Potion Master in Europe who was at his party. There was even a bloody vampire there for Merlin's sake! Upon my escape, I immediately sought out my date for the party: Luna Lovegood. When I had seen her come down the staircase to meet me before the ball, she was absolutely breathtaking. Her hair was sleek and shiny, her dress was a brilliant shade of blue that ran down to her ankles and showed off her womanly curves. Her outfit was completed with silver heels, earrings, and a necklace, without a hint of a radish or butterbeer cork to be found. When I came to after being exposed to such a vision of beauty, I realized she had been trying to get my attention for several minutes, and had a very sly and decidedly un-Lunaesque smile on her face, without a hint of her usual dreamy expression to be found. I had never known Luna to be the type to flirt, but after a few words and slurs back and forth, I felt like my face was redder than the hair of any Weasley. Right before we entered the party, she implied that she wanted to thank me very personally for inviting her to the party, which as she'd said before she had no friends, so she wasn't expecting an invitation. Any anger I felt towards the people whom had mistreated her before I'd met the young witch took a backseat to the hormonal imaginations of her "thank you".

So caught up was I in my recollections that I didn't notice anyone had walked up to me until I had already been dragged behind a set of curtains and had a set of lips mashed forcefully against my own.

A gasp was my only response when I saw a mane of bushy brown hair that I knew almost as well as my own messy black locks. I pushed back the body on top of me to see the face of none other than Hermione, face flushed and breathing heavily. I could smell the alcohol on her breath, and see the tear tracks on her cheeks, which led me to believe something was seriously wrong with my calm, cool, logical Hermione.

"Hermione-" I started before her lips were on mine yet again, but I wasted no time in pushing her back again. I held her firmly this time before continuing, "Hermione! What has gotten into you!?"

I watched as several emotions flited across her face, a few being shock, anger, sadness, before settling on resignation.

"I knew it," She whispered, "no one could ever be attracted to a know-it-all bookworm like me." She sniffed once, before turning and running away, leaving me standing in shock, for almost a full minute before tearing out of the room and down the hall after her at a record pace, not even noticing that I ran past Luna, nor did I notice Luna's smile, before she skipped out the door after me.

After running up several flights of stairs, and getting directions from a few ghosts, I discovered Hermione curled up in the corner of an unused classroom, crying and hiccupping through her tears.

"Hermione?" I whispered. Her response was muffled and soft.

"Leave me alone." She said through her tears.

"Are you alright?" I said a little louder, though I quickly realized this was the wrong thing to say.

"What the bloody hell does it look like, Harry!?" Hermione shouted, raising her hands in the hair, glaring at him with anguished eyes. "You don't care about me!"

I was stunned to say the least. Here was Hermione, my Hermione, telling me that she honestly believed that I didn't care about her, my most precious person. The thought was so stunning it took me a few moments to form a response.

"Of course I care for you, Hermione. You my greatest and truest friend, we've been through everything together, not even Ron can say that!"

"If you were really my "friend" you would know I meant my needs, my wants, and my desires. I have them too you know, this is just like the Yule Ball, you don't see me as a girl- no as a woman." Hermione snapped.

And suddenly it all clicked, like a key piece of a puzzle falling into place, I realized what Hermione was getting at. I realized that I had been blind to Hermione's feelings for me. I had hurt her, my most precious person, through my ignorance. This brought me back to times I had over looked in my past; holding her hand after saving her from the troll in first year, my first ever hug, visiting her petrified body, her holding me so tightly before the first task, and me holding her back just as tightly…

At this point my heart had already realized where this conversation was headed, and the depth of my feelings, but my mind wasn't yet ready to give up.

"But Hermione, how can you feel this way? What about Ron?"

"Ron has always been your friend Harry, not mine. It was his bloody fault that I almost got killed by that troll in first year in the first place! All because of him and his petty words, he just couldn't handle a muggleborn or a girl being better than him. From then until now you are and have always been there for me Harry, whenever I needed a shoulder to cry on or a knight in shining armor, you were always there for me. Even now, even though you have your own date, who is much more beautiful than me, you're here, with me, and where is Ron? He's off angry and jealous that you and I got invited to this party and he didn't."

As she said this, she stood and brushed herself off, though I figured that was just subconscious, as even drunk she couldn't have her appearance be less than perfect. I was struck at how beautiful she looked, her bushy hair, upon closer inspection, looking more like elegant curls, chocolate brown eyes brimming with tears and looking so very beautiful, her crimson gown flowing down her wonderful body, which was filled out in all the right places. I was struck by her beauty in a way that made Luna's seem to pale in comparison. At this moment, I had accepted how I felt for this wonderful, beautiful witch in front of me.I was shake from my thoughts as she spoke.

"You care for me, more than anyone else, so please, will you be there for me, just this one time. Please Harry…will you?"

She then move towards me at a speed which while still slow to me (probably due to Quidditch reflexes), was much faster than she should have been capable of in her condition, and then she pushed me down and climbed on top of me.

At that moment, I was struck by how much she needed me, and how vulnerable she was. And at the same moment, I felt guilty. My ignorance of my self-proclaimed "truest friend's" feelings had caused this wonderful witch to be reduced to begging. How could I do this? To her? What could I do to make up for this? As I reflected further, I realized that after all she's done for me; I had never once thanked her. Not for saving me from devil's snare, risking petrification and death to figure out what Slytherin's monster was, risking my hatred for turning in my broom, helping me prepare for the Tri-wizard Tournament, and even going with me to the Department of Mysteries with me and getting nearly killed by Dolohov, even though she was against us going in the first place, she put me and my selfishness ahead of her better (and usually correct) judgment. It was then, while her lips were descending toward my own, that I made my decision. If this, in some small way would make up for all my selfishness over the years, and help her and make her feel better, then I'll do it.

Because if anyone had the right to ask this of Harry Potter, it would be Hermione Granger, the witch currently lying on top of him, half naked, clearly drunk, breathing on his neck, fingers in his hair, body melting into his, and if this made her just a bit happy, helped her smile just a tad bit more, then by Merlin he'd do it for one simple reason; Harry Potter was in love with Hermione Granger. As they began a dance as old as time, they didn't notice a platinum blonde girl skipping away after locking and silencing the door, whistling merrily with a smile on her face.

Fin

AN: So ends my first Fanfiction. Please leave reviews, considering I have no prior experience in writing fanfiction like this, I am dependant on your reviews to point out any errors with story-telling and plot flow that you find. And while I have been encouraged to take full responsibility for this, which I will for the most part, I find that I must give thanks to my friend who helped edit this story for me, though he, at least, wishes to remain anonymous.

Farewell readers!