THE BEAST WITHIN

Category: Suspense/Angst/Romance

Archive: Ask first.

Feedback: YES, PLEASE! R/R!

Rating: R, for violence and sensual situations

Spoilers: This takes place on their Seventh Year at Hogwarts.

Disclaimers: Harry Potter and his world belong to the magnificent J.K. Rowling, I am only the owner of the plot and the character of Ea.

Summary:

A new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher comes to Hogwarts, and Harry finds himself inexplicably attracted to her, threatening a blossoming relationship with a very important girl.

But as it often happens when you are Harry Potter, things are not always what they seem. Who can you trust when you can't even trust yourself?

What can you believe when you are being called by the Beast Within?

Chapter 1: Of Bon Bons and Milkshakes

******

The Burrow

"Ron! Ginny! I want you down here NOW! We are leaving in two minutes!" Charlie's voice boomed in every corner of the house. Harry chuckled, sitting on the Weasley's dining room as he tied the shoelaces on his worn-out sneakers.

For the firs time before the beginning of a term since he had started attending Hogwarts, Harry actually wished that the summer had lasted longer.

Harry looked around the house. 'It was a good summer,' he smiled. For the last month, Dumbledore had allowed Harry to leave the Dursley's home, whom had raised Harry's mistreatment this summer to a whole new level.

Because Mr. And Mrs. Weasley were working actively on the Order of the Phoenix, Charlie, who had taken a temporary leave of absence from his job tending dragons in Romania, had been left in charge of the burrow.

Between Charlie's easygoing nature and the Twins constant mischief, Harry found himself having the best summer ever. Days were spent doing housework and taking breaks for Quidditch games, and nights usually passed by with lots of butterbeer and music. Harry couldn't think of a time after Voldemort had returned that he had had such a good time just by being alive.

And if things couldn't have gotten any better, along came Hermione. For the last two weeks, Hermione had joined Harry, Ron, Ginny and the Weasleys in the burrow. He had missed his friends terribly when he had been with the Dursleys, but surprisingly, he realized he missed Hermione the most.

He had gotten used to the fact that Hermione was always by his side, and he found himself missing the sound of her voice when he was locked in his room, or the sight of her smile at one of Ron's jokes, or the chocolate brown of her eyes as she looked up at him from the top of one of her books.

And only three days ago, things between Hermione and him had taken a very surprising turn.

One of Fred and George's customers had given them a box of Firewhiskey bottles as payment for some very special fireworks the twins had prepared. After much convincing, Charlie let the twins share a couple of bottles with the younger kids.

Charlie had made a campfire on the field near the house, and for the next hour, they drank, joked around, and laughed at the Weasleys' embarrassing childhood stories (there was one about a two-year old Ron in a girl's dress that Harry found particularly amusing).

Not two hours had passed when Hermione was telling everybody they had had enough to drink, as she gathered by the sight of Charlie, Fred and George singing "Shake Your Bon Bon" with Ron and Ginny showing their salsa moves (it was either that, or Ron was having convulsions). But not a half hour later Hermione herself was in the spotlight, gyrating her body as she drunkenly sang, 'My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and they like…'

The party slowed down after that, but not before Hermione and Ginny had a 30-minute face-off against the Weasley boys about why guys suck. The boy's won, but it had more to do with Ginny passing out than with their actual points on why, if a relationship didn't work, it was the girl's fault, and not the guys.

It was when Charlie was carrying Ginny back to the house in his arms, and the Twins were dragging the still dancing Ron (again, Harry hoped he was dancing and not having another seizure), that he had found himself alone with Hermione by the light of the dwindling campfire.

*******

Flashback

3 Days Ago

Hermione nestled her head even closer to Harry's neck. Harry, his left arm draped over Hermione's shoulders, still had a firewhiskey bottle between his legs. But the truth was he didn't know if the warmth that was rising in him was due to his mild drunkenness or to the feeling of Hermione's breath tickling his cheek.

"You know something?" Hermione whispered, her voice slightly husky. Harry chucked inwardly; before tonight, he was sure Hermione had not drank anything stronger than butterbeer.

"What is it?" Harry whispered, his own voice sounding thicker than it was. Maybe he was a bit more intoxicated than he originally thought.

"It's not fair," she replied, her tone unexpectedly serious as she leaned forward, leaving the comfort of the crook of Harry's neck. "What's not fair?" Harry asked, confused about the mood swing.

"That everybody got to make a complete fool of his or her self except you," Hermione smiled with a wink. Harry snorted irreverently. "You? Make a fool of yourself? NEVER!" he teased her.

"Harry, if I remember correctly, one hour ago I was singing a song about my milkshake. That's a low point for me," Hermione replied, playfully hitting him in the arm. "I thought you did a pretty good job," Harry joked.

"Everybody's a critic! The point is, Mr. Boy-Who-Lived, that liquor is supposed to eradicate all inhibitions and make you act crazy, and what you've done all night is sit against that log like a lump of clay!" she chided him teasingly.

"I'm the different type of drunk. You know, the introverted one… the one who sits in a corner, all quiet, and enjoys the sight of his friends making fools of themselves while trying to remember which way is the bathroom," Harry said with a charming smile, taking an errand strand of her hair off her face and tucking it behind her ear.

"Well, that's no fun!" Hermione pouted. Harry laughed; it was the first time he had ever seen the witch do something as childish as pout. "So, what do you want me to do? Sing Shake Your Bon Bon while pretending to be having a seizure?" Harry teased.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous! Besides, if I hear Ricky Martin one more time tonight I am going to puke," Hermione said. "So, the great Hermione Granger wants me to act like a maniac?" Harry asked.

"No, Harry. Not a bloody maniac. But I think you are missing an opportunity here! You should be acting like a normal teenager who's trashed. It's fun! Take my word for it!" Hermione said happily. Harry grinned; even when she was drunk Hermoine could be quite bossy.

Suddenly, a thought came to mind. Harry didn't know if it was the firewhiskey on his veins, or the sight of Hermione's slightly flushed cheeks and puffed lips. What Harry knew was exactly what was that crazy, unpredictable, uninhibited thing he wanted to do.

"Are you sure you want me to do something crazy? I might get a little too crazy for you, if you know what I mean," Harry said, his voice low and husky. Either Hermione was too inexperienced in this matter or too drunk to notice (or, Harry didn't dare think at the moment, she knew exactly what was going to happen and was inviting him in), because she just leaned closer to him and whispered, "I can take anything you dish out, Mr. Potter."

'This is it, Harry. Now or never…'

Harry placed his hand in the back of Hermione's head at the same time he leaned forward. He had time to see her eyes open wide in surprise just as his lips landed on hers. It was soft and gentle, and it only lasted about a second, but it was enough to make the hairs in the back of Harry's neck rise.

Harry reluctantly broke the contact and moved back, enjoying the sight of the very flustered and shocked Hermione. "How's that for crazy, Ms. Granger?" he asked, a wicked grin spreading in his flushed cheeks.

Hermione seemed stunned, looking at him with wide eyes, touching her lips with the tips of her fingers. He grinned more widely. "It's not everyday that Hermione Granger is left speechless. I guess I did got a bit too hot for you to handle," Harry said cheekily.

But unexpectedly, Hermione smiled. It wasn't her usual sweet, innocent smile. It was a defiant smile, mischievous, like that of a predator who had just spotted her prey.

"Oh, really?" Hermione whispered roguishly, crawling on all fours to where Harry was sitting. He gulped, stunned by the dark look in her eyes and by the healthy peek at the skin under her shirt.

'Oh, for Merlin's sake, Harry… stop peeking at her chest. This is Hermione!'

"Ye… Yeah…" he stuttered, concentrating hard on her chocolate eyes. She kept crawling toward him slowly, until her hands rested on his sides. Hermione placed her knees on each side of Harry's leg, effectively pinning him to the ground.

Hermione moved her hands up his arms slowly, until she locked her fingers in the back of his neck. He felt the heat rising in his cheeks; no girl had ever put him in this position.

"I got news for you, Mr. Potter," she said huskily, leaning more closely against him. Harry was frozen in the spot, the courage that helped him defeat Voldemort in many occasions betraying him when it came to the young girl straddling him.

"What?" he asked meekly. "You don't know the meaning of too hot to handle…" Hermione whispered, closing the distance between them abruptly, brushing her lips against his. It started like Harry's kiss, but it quickly became something more passionate, hungry and alive.

Harry snapped out of his shock and put his hands around Hermione's waist, crushing her tightly against him. Without breaking the kiss, he laid himself on the grass, Hermione laid on top of him. She moaned against his mouth as he switched positions until she was under him.

For the first time since he had come to the Burrow this summer, Harry felt desperate… desperate because he couldn't have enough of the girl under him, even when her tongue was dancing inside his own mouth, even when his hand was caressing the skin under her shirt.

Harry broke the kiss so his lips could travel to her neck, the taste of lavender soap mingled with sweat intoxicating him. Hermione moaned as she reached over Harry and pulled his shirt off his jeans, digging her nails on the exposed flesh of his back.

It felt like heaven on Earth, until a voice brought them both back to reality.

"Harry! Hermione! Come on! It's time to go to bed," Charlie's voice carried thru the field. Hermione gasped worriedly as Harry stopped kissing her and looked toward the house.

"Did he see us?" Hermione asked, alarmed. Harry realized that the log he had been leaning against shielded them from Charlie, who was now going back inside the house.

Harry looked down at the girl under him. Her cheeks were blushed, and she was breathless. But he didn't need to be a psychic to know she was quite embarrassed. He kicked himself mentally… what the hell drove him to take advantage of his best friend?

His chest tightened, even when he smiled lightly and said, "Maybe… Maybe we should go back to the house…"  "Yeah," she said, a little too quickly. Harry had then stood up and offered his hand to her. Pulling her from the ground, they walked in silence back toward the Weasley house.

***********

Present day

And they hadn't mentioned what had happened between them since that day.

Did she even remember? Or was Hermione so drunk she had already forgotten what had happened by the time she woke up next morning? Was that the reason they hadn't spoken about what happened between them?

Harry knew that he had been drunk too, but that the alcohol was not the reason why he kissed his friend. It was because he had wanted it, needed it, and had even dreamed of it for a while. If anything, he had to thank Fred and George for getting him drunk enough to actually try what he had dreamed of doing for so long.

What surprised Harry the most was not that they had not spoken about it, but that nothing had changed between them. If anything, they were now more comfortable with each other than they were before.

It was not unusual now for Harry to put his arm around Hermione's shoulders, or to give her a quick hug when no one else was looking. It wasn't strange for Hermione to take Harry's hand and giving them a gentle squeeze, or unusual for her to rest her head on the crook of his neck when all the Weasleys sat on the living room at night to talk.

But Harry knew that he didn't want to avoid the conversation anymore. He wanted, needed, to know where they stood now. Were they girlfriend and boyfriend? Were they best friends with privileges? Or where they still good old Harry and Hermione, 2/3 of Hogwart's Incredible Trio?

Harry had tried speaking to Hermione about it in several occasions, but as it usually happened in the Burrow, they never were alone with each other, and he didn't feel like sharing neither with Ron nor with Ginny what had happened between him and Hermione, especially when he wasn't even sure himself.

Harry heard footsteps coming down the steps, and compulsively ran a hand thru his hair, forgetting it was a lost cause trying to smooth it back. He stood up and waited nervously, as the footsteps grew louder and louder. He grinned when Hermione, dressed in a simple outfit of faded jeans and a black blouse, appeared in the doorway, smiling at him.

"Finally, I thought I…" Harry started speaking, but stopped abruptly when Ginny appeared behind her. "Let's go or Charlie's going to have a stroke," Ginny said quickly as she hurriedly combed her fiery red hair. Ginny walked right past Hermione and left thru the door.

'Finally, I'll get the chance to speak to her alone…'

As Hermione pour herself a glass of cold water, Harry took the chance to take a long, hard look at her. It was hard to think that this gorgeous, confident, and sexy young woman standing next to him was the same bossy little know-it-all he had met the first time he had rode on the Hogwart's Express.

When she had finished her drink, Harry cleared his throat. He managed to say, "Hermione, I need to ask…" when he heard another set of footsteps coming down the stairs. He looked up in time to see Ron, his freckled face flushed, his red hair uncombed, the laces of his sneakers undone, walking hurriedly toward them.

"Why didn't anyone wake me up in time?" Ron asked breathlessly. "I tried to, mate. You slapped me. You slapped Charlie too, which is why he poured water over you," Harry explained.

"Oh! So that was water!" Ron said, obviously relieved. "You didn't think you wet the bed, did you, Ron?" Hermione teased. Judging by the way his ears went a bright shade of pink, the thought had crossed Ron's mind.

"No wonder he took a shower," Harry said to Hermione, who laughed. "Yeah, make fun of me. Imagine what Luna is going to think of me when she sees me like this!" Ron groaned.

"Don't be silly, Ron," Hermione said as she grabbed Ron by his arm and started pulling him toward the door. "We'll get you back to your handsome self on the car," she said with a smile.

She stopped abruptly and turned toward Harry. "Oh, I almost forgot. What were you trying to tell me?" she asked Harry. Harry looked at Ron and then at Hermione.

"Don't worry. I forgot."

"RON! HERMIONE! HARRY! You have 10 seconds to get your butts in the car! 10! 9! 8!" Charlie screamed from outside. The trio grinned at each other.

"I guessed we better get there before Charlie finally transfigurates into Mom and pops a vein," Ron joked. "Let's go, Harry," Hermione said as she disappeared out the door, still pulling Ron with her.

"I'll be right there", Harry said glumly, even when he knew there was no one there to hear him. He took one last look at the closest thing he had to a real home outside of Hogwarts.

'Goodbye, Burrow. Hopefully, I'll still be around next year to see you.'

******

A/N: I know this story seems to be a fluffy piece, but bear with me. It actually gets quite dark by the end. Hope you enjoy the read!

PS. R/R PLEASE!