Imagine Me and You
Ahem Emily here does not own anything that has already been copyrighted to JKR. Also, plot twists and any additional characters are completely fictional unless stated otherwise! If you feel the need to not read this fanfic then please, kindly hit the back button on your browser, or the home button at the top of the page. You don't have to read it you know!
Just to give you a slight idea about the happenings of things. This is completely post HBP…Completely 10 years post the war. Good side won (dur) and Voldemort has been…Well…He's no more!
As in most stories, there is romance! Ron, now working as the DADA teacher is married to Luna Lovegood (now Weasley). Much to everyone's displeasure, Ginny ran away to be with Draco Malfoy who turned out to be a not so bad guy after all! Harry moved into his parent's old home in Godric's Hollow and enjoys the single life. Hermione had a short relationship with Fred (or George…who was it?) which did end on good terms but just didn't feel right. She works for the Ministry of Magic with Ron's dad who is now the Minister himself. Righto! Onward shall we?
Harry Potter had just finished clearing away his dinner dishes when the doorbell rang. It wasn't a rare occasion that his doorbell was ringing at eight in the evening. Flicking his wand to finish putting the dishes in the cupboard, he heard the impatient chime of the doorbell again.
"Bloody paparazzi, never can get enough embarrassing photographs." He muttered to the silence of his home. But in the essence, he never really was one to turn down a visitor. Shuffling to the door he realized it had been raining, and for what seemed like quite a while. The insistent doorbell rang another time before Harry picked up his pace and reached the door.
"Can I help y---Hermione?" Harry asked incredulously. There, on his porch step, drenched to the bone stood his life long best friend, Hermione Granger; tears streaking down her face with mascara in tow, lips quivering, and clothes sticking to her skin.
"Ha...Harry, can I co…Come in?" She asked between hiccups. Harry nodded and stood aside to let his friend into his house. Closing the door behind her and taking her coat, Harry led her to his kitchen.
"'Mione, what happened?" Harry gingerly asked her, putting a pot of tea on and sitting in front of her at the kitchen table. Hermione looked down and fiddled with a paper napkin. "Hermione Granger, tell me right now. You know you can tell me anything." Harry prodded. He knew she'd give in and tell him.
"I was stood up." Seconds after muttering the words, her eyes began to tear up again. "No worries though, happens all the time right?" She asked cynically, dabbing the tears away with the napkin. Harry looked down and sighed. Hermione had no luck in the dating scene, and here she was, finding out the hard way.
"Well who was he Hermione?"
"He was actually a muggle bloke. I ran into him completely on accident while I was in the muggle food mart. We talked, and he asked me to meet him. So I agreed, thinking maybe it'll be different, and well, he never showed." Hermione sighed and rested her head in her hands. Harry smiled at her. It wasn't a rare sight to see Hermione in his kitchen after another stand up date.
"Well the prat doesn't know what he's missing out on then does he? Look at you 'Mione, you're 27 years old and in the best shape of your life! Other witches envy your figure, and you're just absolutely gorgeous." Harry said, trying to boost her self esteem. Although it wasn't entirely untrue, Hermione was very attractive, and there was no reason she should be getting stood up as often as she was. Harry himself knew this was true. "Hermione…" Harry said offhandedly, "Why don't you just stay here tonight. We'll sit up, and have our own little quality time date."
Hermione paused, and looked down at the puddle of water that she had created from the rain. She realized what she must look like, and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her clothes tugged at her skin; clearly she shouldn't have worn something as form fitting as what she had tonight.
"Harry, I appreciate it, I really do…But I must look frightful. I don't have any other clothes, and, just…Maybe some other time." Hermione stood up and readjusted herself under the scrutiny of Harry. Blushing at the feel of his eyes watching her, she turned to go. "But, thanks for listening Harry." She stopped at the front door and turned around to find herself inches from his face. Her eyes lingered on his lips a few seconds longer than usually, and traveled slowly up to his striking green eyes.
Those eyes, I can never get enough of them, I wonder what it feel like to tangle my hands up in the messy jet black hair and jus—Hermione shook the thoughts and blinked the vision away from her mind. I can't think of Harry like that…He's my best friend…But just once I'd like to jus-
Harry interrupted her…"Her…Hermione, I'll…see you around then?" He asked…He gazed into her soft brown eyes. Her features are flawless, look at her, beautiful eyes, adorable nose, lovely full lips—what the bloody hell…It's Hermione! Stop it mate! Pushing his own thoughts away, he reached around her and turned the door knob. Leaning in to pull the door open he suddenly became fully aware of just exactly how close the two were. Harry licked his own lips and paused, momentarily confused as to what to do…Leaning in ever closer Harry closed his eyes and waited for the touch of his lips to Hermione's.
Hermione's mind was reeling. We're awfully close; he's going to kiss me! Merlin I don't know…Here it comes! Oh what am I going- "Thanks Harry, lovely seeing you, see you around?" She quickly avoided his lips and slipped out of the door.
Harry stood open mouthed. For one, he couldn't believe he had just tried to kiss his best friend, and for another thing, he couldn't believe she had just run off like that. Rubbing his eyes, he closed the door and padded back to his living room and flopped onto his favorite recliner. Taking his glasses off and setting them on the coffee table, he remembered his first year at Hogwarts. The memory of a bushy haired girl coming in, declaring his name as if she had known him her whole life, and then fixing his glasses for him. Hermione really had changed since then. Her once bushy hair was now tamed and wavy. She was constantly using Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, and kept tabs with the Weasley Twins; who were working on a potion that could have the same effects but last permanently. Not only had she changed from bushy to sleek, she had also filled out a lot since 3rd year. Harry had caught himself looking on very appreciatively at Hermione's curvy body.
What are you doing Harry mate, Its Hermione, she's your best friend! Harry stood up in frustration. Alright so she's my best friend, but can I help it if she's the most beautiful best friend I've got?
Hermione Granger sat in her tub full of hot water and bubbles slightly perplexed. It certainly had been an interesting evening for her. True she had spent nearly 4 hours getting ready for her date with the muggle guy, and sure she had waited nearly an hour for him to show up and when he didn't she walked outside only to find a down pour greeting her. She had walked to Harry's house which wasn't too far from where she was and sure, he looked extremely good, better than she had last remembered…And sure he had tried to kiss her.
Hermione you are such a git. It was a kiss, what's so wrong about that? Hermione scoffed at her own thoughts and spoke out loud to herself, "I'll tell you what's wrong with it, he is my best friend. Sure, I've had a slight crush on him ever since fourth year in school, but I'm 27 now. I have to forget my girlish fantasies and keep looking for my Mr. Right." Why can't it be Harry? She thought inwardly. So what if he's the Boy Who Lived. Hermione emerged from her bathroom in a cloud of steam and a towel. Dressing for bed she thought about Harry. She couldn't get him off her mind.
He was a wonderful friend, but sometimes friendship wasn't enough. She loved his eyes; shockingly green that just held your gaze. His hair, she thought, was so adorable. Jet black and always out of place. At a height of 5'3, Hermione knew she wasn't tall, but compared to Harry, who stood at 5"11 she felt so small. But at being so tall, Harry had definitely matured through the years, with the body of a pro quidditch player, it was equal to that of a muggle swimmer. Hermione shook her thoughts away, and turned down her sheets. She had an early morning, and had to be at the office by 7. Flicking her wand, the lights went out, leaving Hermione to fall victim to her own dreams.