Harry awoke with a start. He'd been having a most delicious dream, though he couldn't quite remember what it was about. He grunted, and sat up.
The spare room. Again. What had he done this time?
The previous evening Harry and Ginny had been invited to Ron's 22nd birthday party, at the Burrow. Harry and Ginny had consumed an inordinate amount of alcohol, and as far as Harry was concerned, they'd had a thoroughly good time. Mrs Weasley had lain on a fantastic party, and there were lots of people, noise and drink. Many of Harry and Ron's old class mates had come, Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Luna, and Lavender were all there to toast Ron's big day.
Harry put on his glasses and reached for his cigarettes, and lit one with the tip of his wand. He sighed as he exhaled, and looked in vain for the ashtray.
"Acio...fuck...ashtray," he grunted.
Harry smiled as the memories of the evening came trickling in to his consciousness. Shaking hands, smiling, drinking. Later on, dancing in the garden with Ginny, Hermione and Lavender, more drinking and laughing. Ron kissing Lavender under a tree, then Ron streaking through the garden, then Ron being sick.
It was overall, Harry thought, a great party. Drink, music, someone showing off. What more could you ask?
Harry stubbed out the cigarette, and turned his thoughts to more pressing matters. The spare room again. What had he done? He couldn't remember doing anything that terrible at the party. Then again, he didn't really have to. The spare room thing was not a new thing. It was, on reflection, he thought, maybe the seventh or eighth time he'd either been kicked out of the master bedroom or not even made it there, before Ginny had made it quite clear that he was not welcome.
She'd even kicked him out of the house. Three times.
Those times he'd Apparated over to Hermione's and gratefully taken her spare room. She never seemed to mind, and Harry was always pleased to see her, even in those circumstances. She never questioned, but always seemed concerned for Harry. This didn't bother him; she'd always been like that.
Harry swung his legs out of bed, and grabbed his dressing gown from the floor.
"Time to face her," he muttered, and headed downstairs into the kitchen.
Ginny was stood with her back to him as he entered the bright and sunny room.
"How long have you been fucking her?"
Harry recoiled, Ginny's temper was already in full flow, and her tongue was as sharp as a lash from a whip.
"Seriously Ginny?" said Harry quickly. "Fucking who?"
"That slut,Hermione." hissed Ginny.
Harry sighed, with a resigned air. "We're friends. That's it."
"I saw you dancing with herlast night."
Harry watched as the sunlight glinted and danced through her scarlet hair.
"I'm not cheating on you. I never have."
"I don't believe you."
Harry turned and headed back up the stairs. He hated it when Ginny was like this; it was happening more and more.
"I'm going out," he called.
"Fuck you."
He stepped into the bathroom, and turned on the shower, and undressed. The hot water felt good as he sluiced himself down. He'd always worried about Ginny's temper. He knew of it when they got together, the Weasley women were famous for it, though it had never been directed at him until recently. She'd accused him of terrible things, none of which were true. She was jealous too, another Weasley trait. Harry couldn't even talk to other women without Ginny insinuatinghe was sleeping with them. What had changed?
Harry dried himself off and selected a smart shirt and pair of trousers from the wardrobe. He slipped on his socks, and pulled on his boots. If Ginny wanted to be a bitch, then that was fine. He turned on the spot, and with a small pop, disapparated.
With a pop, Harry landed in a quiet part of Hyde Park, London. He had never been keen on apparition, but it really was very handy indeed. He brought his wand up, almost touching his lips.
"Expecto patronum", he whispered.
There was a shimmer of silver as the stag erupted silently from his wand. It turned its head to Harry expectantly.
"Hermione Granger. Picnic at one o'clock. Hyde Park. Meet me by the big fountain." he whispered again.
There was flash of silver, as the stag disappeared. Harry waited for a count of ten before there was another flash of silver. This time a silver otter, carrying the word "Yes,"as if a whisper on a breeze. Harry smiled to himself, for the second time that day.
"Kreacher," said Harry softly.
There was a loud crack as the house-elf appeared before him, wearing the Hogwarts stamped tea-towel. He bowed low and looked up at Harry.
"Yes Master?" he croaked, in his bullfrog voice.
I need you to fix me up with a picnic basket. Nice things, and don't forget the wine and glasses. This is just for Madam Granger and I. Understand?
"Yes master. Kreacher remembers Madam Granger likes strawberries",
"Yes. Bring some of those too. Quick as you can, Kreacher. Thank you."
Kreacher bowed low again, and disappeared with a loud crack.
Harry settled down of the warm grass, enjoying the shade from a large oak. Leaning against the tree, he thought of what Ginny had said to him earlier. Him and Hermione having an affair? He snorted and lit a cigarette. He watched the faint blue tendrils of smoke as they rose, and thought about Hermione. There had been moments, yes, but that was all. A kiss that lasted a little too long, a look, the dancing last night, where they were a little too close. They'd always been friends, and they had spent a long time together, particularly in the tent, the year they defeated the Dark Lord. The times had been incredibly hard, but they'd got through it together.
A loud crack brought Harry back from his daydreaming, and Kreacher bowed low before him, this time with a large wicker hamper.
"Thank you, Kreacher," said Harry kindly.
"Yes Master," croaked Kreacher.
Harry picked up the hamper as Kreacher disappeared and started walking over to the fountain. Opening his battered pocket watch, he quickened his pace. Five minutes. He reached the fountain, and breathed a sigh of relief as Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Another minute passed and suddenly a pair of soft hands covered his glasses.
"Guess who?"
Harry turned and hugged Hermione. She was looking good today. Really good. Harry felt an unfamiliar swooping sensation in his stomach area as she kissed him on the cheek.
"Finished work already?" asked Harry.
"Yes, just had to call in to the office, just a little admin to catch up on," replied Hermione.
They started to walk, arm in arm over to their usual spot, the oak that Harry was leaning against earlier. Hermione was wearing a sharp business suit under her robe. Her hair was tied back in a large bun, being held together with a quill.
They settled on the blanket, and Harry opened the picnic basket. Kreacher had done himself proud. Wine and glasses, strawberries, tiny, delicate sandwiches, little cakes. Harry opened the wine, and poured a glass for Hermione and himself.
"To us." Said Harry.
"To us." Replied Hermione.
Harry took a deep draught from the glass, as Hermione did the same. Harry felt a familiar faint glow around his cheeks. Hermione was looking at him thoughtfully.
"What's the occasion Harry?" she asked.
"Nothing really, I just felt we haven't done this for ages."
"Nothing to do with the fact you had to sleep in the spare room again?"
"How did you...?" Harry paused, and considered Hermione's sparkling chocolate brown eyes. Of course she knew. She always did.
"You should have seen Ginny's face when you guys left last night," said Hermione.
The conversation paused for a while; they ate the tiny sandwiches, and Hermione opened the strawberries and a little pot of clotted cream.
"Here, let me," said Harry quietly. "Close your eyes."
He selected a particularly juicy looking strawberry, and gently dipped it in to the cream. Hermione closed her eyes and Harry delicately placed the strawberry on her tongue, just brushing her bottom lip as he did. He fed her another two or three and she opened her eyes.
"Thank you," she breathed.
There was a small trickle of juice at the corner of her mouth, Harry conjured a fine silken napkin, and gently dabbed. Was that a slight flush of her lips? Was it the wine? The sun? The strawberries? Harry felt that unfamiliar swooping sensation again, and felt his own cheeks redden slightly. Maybe Ginny did have something to worry about. Harry decided to put thatparticular thought on the back-burner, and engaged Hermione in conversation again.
"You enjoyed the party then?" Asked Harry.
"It was good. Ron was fun." Hermione paused and thought for a moment. "I don't like the way Ginny has been treating you lately."
"She's jealous."
"Of what?"
"You. She thinks we're having an affair. She hates you. She says you broke Ron's heart"
"Jealous of me?" asked Hermione. "Really?"
Ron and Hermione had split up six months previously. As far as Harry knew, he loved her, but had treated her as a domestic drudge, just as he had done in the tent during their year on the run. After almost two years of this Hermione did break his heart, but it seemed just two weeks later, he was back to his old self. He poured himself into his work, and after just four months, he had secured the position of Goalkeeper for the Chudley Cannons, after eighteen months as a reserve. These days he seemed almost irritatingly cheerful, making such statements as "It's better to have loved then lost," and "She gave me the kick up the arse I needed." It was true, Ron was much happier and from last night, it looked like he might see his old girlfriend Lavender again.
"We're going to have to stop doing this, Harry," said Hermione quietly.
"Why? It's fine. We're just two friends, having a picnic in the park," replied Harry.
"Really Harry? Feeding me strawberries? Taking my arm whilst we walked?" said Hermione.
"No, but..."
"I can see why Ginny would be jealous. I would be."
Harry took a moment to consider this. Was he coming on to her? He hadn't even considered this, and yet his behaviour around Hermione seemed perfectly natural. They had always been close, the picnics were quite normal. Maybe he could tone it down a little with Hermione. Yes, that was what to do. He'd buy a nice bunch of flowers for Ginny and it'd all be alright.
"I'm sorry Hermione. I love spending time with you, but I think you're right," said Harry. "It just seems like we've always been like this together."
"I suppose. We're not harming anyone by having a nice picnic,"
Harry turned to Hermione and put his arm around her shoulders. There was that swooping sensation again. He ignored it and stood up.
"I guess I'd better head off soon." said Harry.
"Me too."
Harry stood up and offered Hermione his hands and pulled her up. He pulled a little sharply, and Hermione ended up him his arms, with her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder.
"I'll send you an owl sometime in the week. Maybe we could go for a drink or something" said Harry.
Harry looked down at the soft, cinnamon brown hair, and it was all he could do to stop himself pulling out the quill holding her hair up. He looked into her eyes and there was a flash of something, something deep inside and he just had, just had to kiss her.
His lips met hers, gently at first, the passion flowing from him to her. The swooping sensation in his stomach was now replaced by desire and longing. His tongue gently pressed against hers and he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. She had her hand on the back of his head, fingers running through his messy, spiky black hair. With a small gasp he moved his lips and kissed her gently on the chin, and that little spot just below her ear. There was a small moan from Hermione and Harry pulled back, suddenly embarrassed about the growing in his loins.
"Harry," breathed Hermione.
"Hermione, I'm sorry," murmured Harry.
"It's fine, we're just two friends, having a picnic, and then we had a kiss," said Hermione.
Harry considered this. His insides felt like squirming snakes and his hands trembled. He looked again at Hermione, her breathing was subsiding, but there was still that flush to her lips and cheeks. It felt like more than just a kiss.
"I'd better go," said Hermione.
"Yeah. I'll see you in the week for that drink."
"Thanks for the picnic Harry. I really enjoyed it."
With a lazy flick of his wand, the picnic things disappeared. He smiled at Hermione and she turned on the spot and vanished. Harry too, felt the crushing blackness as he disapparated.
A/N: My first ever attempt at writing any sort of romance. Hope you enjoy.