Author's Note: Here it is, the first chapter of the Sequel to the Longest Day. If you haven't read the Longest Day, I suggest you do before reading this fic. Remember: This fic takes place in Harry's 5th year. During summer, Dumbledore sent him to an Auror camp so he could get trained a bit and so he could take his mind off Cedric and the Triwizard Tournament. (I might one day write a prequel) Hermione accompanied him, but Ron couldn't because he and his family went off to Romania to visit Charlie. Harry and Hermione are prefects and Harry is the captain of the Quidditch team; Ron is the new Keeper. And most importantly, Harry and Hermione are able to communicate telepathically.
v Harry Potter and the Mark of Hermes Chapter 1: BeginningsIt was nighttime in the Riddle House. As he sat there looking in the mirror, running his hands through his jet-black hair, he couldn't believe his luck. Wormtail, that sodding git, actually did something right. He smiled a cold, mirthless smile. I am back. He thought. I am my old self. In his exile, he had forgotten how handsome he once was. I am the way I was, at full strength. He contemplated his face, transfixed on the emerald green of his eyes. The blood of an enemy, my worst enemy, my best enemy, has restored me. He walked away from the mirror and turned to look out the window. Too bad, his own blood will destroy him.
*******
Far away from Voldemort, a young boy, similar in features to him, argued in the dead of night with his girlfriend.
*Hermione, we'll get caught!*
*No we won't.*
*Yes we will!*
*We haven't for the past two months now have we?*
*I know but, its bound to happen.*
*Harry, will you stop being a stupid prat and get your ass over here!*
Harry sighed. *If I must, I must.*
Harry silently rolled out of bed, and put on his Invisibility Cloak. Making sure the other boys were asleep, he tiptoed to the door and gently walked out of his dorm room and closed the door.
Harry didn't hear Ron sigh sleepily as he rolled over. "Who the bloody hell do they think they're fooling?"
Meanwhile, back outside, Harry was walking about in front of the girls 5th year dormitory waiting for Hermione to open the door.
*Sorry I took so long, I thought Lavender saw me walk to the door. She was just mumbling in her sleep. Did you know she fancies NEVILLE?*
Without replying, Harry walked right into the dorm room as Hermione opened the door and silently walked to her bed. Hermione settled in and closed the red curtains all around her four-poster bed.
Before Hermione had a chance to think anything, Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her.
*I've missed you* He thought to her, as he gently tasted her with his lips.
*Harry, we just saw each other like four hours ago!* Hermione thought to him, feeling herself melt at his touch.
*So we have, but not like this.*
The "this" Harry was referring to was their weekly Friday night meetings. Every Friday night for the past two months, Harry would sneak in to Hermione's dorm room for a midnight snog session, then sneak back out before dawn. This was their only chance to be together privately. They knew they were still walking on eggshells with Ron. They were still leery of showing any strong affections in front of him. They had yet to really discuss the events of three months ago with Ron, who seemed to want to change the subject every time it was mentioned.
It was funny how "this" started. It all began two months ago, on a night like tonight.
******
Hermione was in her bed, thrashing about. She could feel her temperature rising. She felt like she was burning up. She thought she could handle her fever alone, without alerting Madame Pomfrey, (our Hermione is stubborn, ya know) but she knew she could not-not alert Harry. Harry, sound asleep in his bed, awoke with a start when he felt a wave of her fever go through his body.
*Hermione.*
*Harry.* He heard her think faintly.
*Hermione, are you sick?*
*No Harry, I'm fine, go back to bed.*
But before Harry could do just that, he felt another wave of her fever run through his body.
*Hermione I'm going to Madame Pomfrey.*
*No Harry! I'm fine! It's just a little fever. Go back to sleep!*
*Nope, I'm awake now, I'm going to your room.*
Strangely enough, Hermione didn't protest. So Harry put on his Invisibility Cloak, and silently crept out of his room and into Hermione's.
He held her that night, while she was suffering her fever. He took of his shirt and wet it with some of the water that was in a jar next to her bed. He put the wet cloth to her forehead, hoping against hope that this would help the fever break. He stayed with her until dawn, when he gladly noticed her fever had diminished and that she was now sound asleep. He gave her a light kiss on her forehead and silently crept back to his room, just before the sun rose.
The next morning at breakfast, Harry and Hermione tried to hide any evidence of the previous night before Ron. They went about it entirely the wrong way, however, because instead of talking to each other like they normally did, they spent their entire breakfast staring at each other. Ron was sure they were in some deep telepathic conversation, but of course, as is the case most of the time, he was wrong. The conversation between Harry and Hermione wasn't deep at all. In fact, I wouldn't be so quick to label it a conversation at all. They're "communication" largely revolved around this:
Harry: *Are you okay?*
Hermione: *Ya.*
And that's it. They continued eating their meal in silence, still staring at each other as if they were in a dessert looking at an oasis.
Suddenly Hermione looked away from Harry, breaking the staring contest they had submerged themselves into and asked him very silently.
*Could you meet me in the broom closet in five minutes?*
Harry, still staring at her, answered in the affirmative. *Okay.*
Hermione gathered her books and looked from Harry to Ron, stammering out her excuses, "I've…I've got to…go to the library!" she finished with a flourish, and ran out of the Great Hall.
Ron turned to look at Harry with his eyebrows raised, "Don't look at me." Harry told him. "I've got to go check out something on the Quidditch pitch." Ron raised his eyebrows even higher. "I'll see ya in Divination!" He quickly yelled, as he left the Great Hall and turned in the direction opposite the way he should have gone if he had really meant to go to the Quidditch pitch.
Ron looked after them, amusement in his eyes. "They are such bad liars!"
Back in the broom closet, Hermione was waiting nervously for Harry to arrive.
Why did I ask him to meet me here?
Hermione was aware that they had never done anything like this before. They had never done anything reckless in their relationship, and I use the term "relationship" loosely since their relationship was hardly a relationship at all, for fear of Ron, and the Daily Prophet, finding out. In fact, the only things they had done so far was quick peck on the lips or cheek when they felt no one was watching, and Harry made it a point to carry her things everywhere they went together, and they sometimes found themselves inexplicably gravitating towards each other so that they were in some small way, touching, whether it be by hand holding or Harry putting his hand on her shoulder.
Yup, that was the nature of their "relationship." But somewhere, they both knew, that last night changed it all. The intimacy they shared wasn't something to be forgotten.
Harry stepped into the broom closet quickly. He turned to look at Hermione, who was looking at him as if he were a complete stranger.
*Hermione?*
Hermione snapped out of her reverie.
*Harry?*
*You had something you wanted to tell me?* Harry couldn't help but be amused at the lost look on her face. I wonder what it is she wants to tell me.
They had gotten really good at blocking each other, well, kinda. It turns out, this telepathic communication isn't about blocking out things you didn't want the other to hear, but supplying the things you wanted the other to hear. Exactly like talking, only, in your head. It still happened that they supplied information unintentionally (like the time Harry started day-dreaming about Hermione in a short skirt, and Hermione turned around and smacked Harry upside the head, to the great wonder of the Gryffindor table). Of course, nobody else knew save Dumbledor, Ron, Ginny (who had finally gotten it out of Ron) and Sirius (whom Harry told everything to) that they had developed this "connection."
*Harry, I want you to come to my room again.* Hermione stumbled out. She bit her lip and looked at him coyly after she thought this.
Harry stared at her as if she had just told him she was going to elope with Voldemort.
*Excuse me?*
*You heard me. I want you to come to my room again.*
Harry looked at her, clearly not believing this. *When? Now?*
*No you git! Next Friday night!*
*Why? Are you planning on being sick again?* Harry asked her, an impish look on his face.
Hermione knew he was trying to vex her. Clearly, he had
succeeded.
*No Harry you bloody prat! I am not planning on being sick again. I want you
to come visit me again, because…well, I kinda liked having you there. So, will
you come?*
Harry couldn't help notice how beautiful she looked when she was angry, or the hopeful look in her doe eyes, *Of course I'll come.* He replied, quietly.
They just stared at each other for a few minutes before they realized that they would be late for class.
*I guess we better go.* Hermione said, aware of the blush that had crept on to her cheek.
*Ya, I guess.* Harry said, moving away so that she could walk out first.
*Hermione wait.*
Hermione turned to look at him as he slowly walked toward her and before she could react, kissed her on the lips.
Hermione stood on her tiptoes to level with him and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he, realizing that she had welcomed him, took liberty and put his hands on her waist.
They felt as if they were on fire. All this time of being careful, taking things slow, the fear of being found out, all this washed away in this simple gesture. They deepened the kiss and to their amazement, the connection stirred within them and grew to a climatic point. They were both barraged with all these feelings. They felt each other's elation at finally being able to set free the feelings that began to surface in their mind with the start of their "connection" three weeks ago that quickly traveled to their hearts, and now filled their entire beings. They felt each other's passion, confusion, fear, ecstasy, pain, helplessness, worry, and underlying it all was the clear and distinct feeling of love. A love that, if possible, was fueled even stronger by the night before, and by the loving gesture they shared right now. They were afraid of breaking away. It was as if their very existence depended on this kiss. The fate of the world, the balance of the universe, all depended on them. If they broke apart all would fail, yet they knew that they must. They finally succumbed to the human need of air and to their disdain, the strength of the connection shattered to the normal level they had while apart. Without the connection, they suddenly felt this ache within them, this feeling of emptiness, as if they were only half full.
Hermione found that apart from the feeling of emptiness, she suffered a pleasant lightheaded feeling and she couldn't quite feel her legs. Harry, feeling her distress, held her up, which Hermione didn't find unpleasant at all.
*Wow.* She thought to him. *Is this gonna happen every time?*
Harry was still catching his breath. *I don't know.* He thought back. *We could always ask Dumbledor.*
Hermione looked at him with horror etched on her face, until she noticed the mischievous smile on his lips. *Harry you prat!* she yelled at him as she reached over and smacked his arm. They both began laughing hysterically.
*Great Wizards! Look at the time! We're late for class!* Hermione exclaimed, suddenly leaping out of Harry's arms and rushing to the door.
Harry, dilly-dallying behind her, stared as she ran off towards Arithmancy in amusement.
I Love her. He thought to himself.
*I Love you too.* He heard her say.
She turned around and looked at him, a small, happy smile on her face, then she turned around and went on her way.
******