Disclaimer: nothing of my own. They're all in JK Rowling's possession. The sole reason for playing is that I just need to see the world in Harmony!
It was most likely a couple of hours after midnight, she could tell, since she had been training her eyes on the portrait door when the clock chimed twelve sharp, like every other night he had his Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape. Curled up comfortably in her favorite armchair, a thick tome in her lap supplying meager warmth, she had expected him to stagger in the dark room any minute, yet tonight, an hour or so had elapsed without any sign of him. She was soon getting worried, her books open on the same page all the while. Cold was creeping into the air, but she didn't think about conjuring a nice quilt to warm herself. She sprang up from the comfy armchair, shivering furiously, and started to hurry towards the entrance. Pushing the portrait door open hastily, she ran out into the corridor, neglecting the scowls from the Fat Lady for her disrupted sleep.
No sooner had she stepped outside did she see him. Relief struck her so fast that she was caught gasping for air briefly, but she didn't have time to collect herself when the vision before her eyes took her breath away for the second time. He was leaning against the wall, his listless eyes casting out the window, his profile bathed in the silver moonlight. From her perspective, he resembled a marble sculpture sustaining inclement weather over time, its immaculate aesthetic elegance intact. He had absorbed all his woes while emanating an aura of nonchalance and something akin to loftiness that kept others away so that he could stay a solitary island floating aimlessly on the infinite ocean of pains. It was the very same aura that rendered his name jammed in her throat when she was about to call him. She simply retreated in the dark and fixed her eyes on the captivating mysterious young man under the mask of her best friend, her mind shut down, her voice lost, her body immobile.
He soundlessly headed towards the portrait door, when she was still in a daze, taking no heed of the widened brown eyes which seemed to be burning a hole at the back of his neck. The Fat Lady could hardly utter a word of dismay when he grumbled the password, and rushed inside. She was automatically hot on his heels. Not only after the door was slammed shut behind her, and the familiar darkness settled upon her line of sight did she expect him to turn around any moment, querying her covert behavior or trudge up to the boys' dormitory without sparing her a glance as usual.
She wasn't sure she should feel dread or thrill when he made a smooth movement to the fireplace and collapsed into the couch, but her heart fluttered. He stays, she was seized with a flash of anticipation, it seems like forever since they last sat there, huddling together by the warm fire and just talked about anything. Nostalgia surging inside her, she unconsciously marched right in front of him, intent on having a heart-to-heart conversation with her elusive friend.
All of a sudden, she found herself melting like candle wax catching fire. He was sleeping, his raven hair matted to his temple, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, his jagged scar glowing scarlet. The rise and fall of his chest rhymed with his quiet breathing, filling her with so poignant a sense of peace that her knees gave way. She sagged down to the hearth rug, her hand involuntarily reaching out to him to keep her balance, almost. She had barely clutched weakly at the arm post when he groaned softly, still sound asleep. She looked around as if afraid of being caught, her breath momentarily hitched, but soon gathered her composure, settling herself steadily on the rug, no more than three feet from him.
The common room was ensconced in serene silence, except for the crackling amber flames and the clock ticking laboriously on the wall directly above the hearth. Darkness touched the rest of the deserted room, summoning an eerie sense of being watched by vagabond poltergeists. She shuddered imperceptibly as a flicker of chills rushed by her ears, her eyes fastening on the figure slouching unceremoniously on the spacious couch.
She appeared to be sitting, quite relaxed in mediation, and not even the prying ghosts saw the concern churning in her eyes when he suddenly stirred, his head jerking ever so lightly. Heavy breathing plunged into the calm quietness, as she felt spasms of fire licking her stomach. She bit her lower lip hard to hold back a sob. This idle watching activity had been weighing heavily on her. Forced inertia had been crushing her normally vigorous mind, rendering her defenseless to this slow agonizing heart torture.
In the depth of the Forbidden forest, trees were bent under the force of wailing winds. The faint silver smudge dispersed into the bulky black cloud as bolts of lightning tore through the velvet sky. The entire moss-covered ground was suffused in bright white light. Predators saw their chance, starting to prowl among thick undergrowth while their quarry whimpered in fright, running wild for cover.
Sheltered in the Gryffindor tower, unaware of the raging storm, she was startled to catch a glimpse of flashing light beyond the window. To her horror, he began to convulse on the couch, his arm falling haphazardly, fingertips brushing her chest. His facial muscles contorted in spasms, his brows drew together as if in excruciating pain. He kept sweating heavily, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, yet rivulets of tears were trickling down his cheek, his mouth twitching in some repetitive words she couldn't make out.
Without thinking, she groped his hand closest to her, and grazed his palm against her cheek, also wet with tears. His skin felt burning hot, and the abrupt transfer of heat to her cold cheek caught her off-guard, but she leant her face further into his palm, trying to cool it down. He eased a little, but continued to shake his head spasmodically. Suppressing a despaired sigh, she rose on her knees, gently removed his glasses and wiped away his sweats, which seeped through her fingers, tingling her skin, sending a pang in her heart.
Before she knew what she was doing, she started to touch his face, lost in bitter admiration, blended with fear for his safety, whispering soothing words to his ears. He gradually calmed down, his fist slackened by his side, his breathing rhythmical again. Panic also allayed in her soul, she allowed herself to look closely at him. His face flushed with earlier struggle, his lips soft and crimson like a girl's. The fact that the wizard sleeping on the couch was supposed to be her best friend escaped her completely. She was utterly entranced by the handsome young man, one single thought jarring in her head, he is beautiful! She started to hum a lullaby her mother used to sing to her when she was little, the song she only sang when she felt light and happy, her dreamy eyes never leaving his face as she stroked his hair lightly.
She kissed his palm time and time again, pressing her mouth urgently to his wrist until she could feel the throbbing pulses on her lips. She trailed her fingers along the scar on the back of his other hand, a renewed assault of anger and frustration burning in her eyes. Anxiety gripped her heart so fiercely that she ached to hold him, to ensure that he would be safe. Consumed with a maddening urge to feel life vibrant inside him, she forced her wayward hair in a loose bun to rest her cheek upon his chest. Her lips curled in a content smile, her vision suddenly blurred as his heart was beating steadily against her ears. She closed her eyes, salty tears tasting sweet on her tongues. Her mind lulled to a peaceful rest, she was immersed in the most delightful rhythm, not quite realizing that she was half lying on top of him.
Comfortable, snug, and secure, she was unaware of an audible gulp falling in the air, rendered thick with tension, until she felt an arm setting firmly around her waist and squeezing her so desperately that it hurt. Her eyes shot open in a tremor of surprise. She couldn't decide the loud pounding in her ears was his heart's palpitations or hers hammering away in her chest. She tentatively looked up, choking off a gasp when a pair of emerald eyes locked on her face pale with alarm. His eyes were blazing in the firelight like two dark green fires, fixed boldly on her mouth as she absently wet her lips. Heat rushed to her cheeks, warnings buzzed in her ears. She was feeling faint with a deluge of jumbled emotions, her brain too boggled to think straight when there was every need to make a decision at that moment.
A whip of silky black hair and a lithe figure perching on the broomstick flashed her mind as a twinge of jealousy touched her heart. She jumped out of his arm, helplessly flustered.
"Merlin! Have I been sleepwalking again?" she fibbed lamely, blinking away tears as she avoided looking at him, feeling painfully pathetic, "Uh…Har…I..I...going back to bed. Goodnight!" She stammered before speaking lightning-fast, and ran away.
Just as she remembered she was running in the direction of the boys' rooms, some invisible violent force snatched her from behind. She could scarcely give a shriek of shock when she was thrown directly in his arms. Too stunned to understand what had happened, she tried to pull away, but he instinctively tightened his hold around her. She blurted out, hysteria overflowing her senses, "No, no, oh dear! No, I'm…please…I'm…" Her tiny voice trailed off as she was lost in his intent gaze, unbidden tears coursing down her cheeks.
"Shh, shh, it's alright...it's gonna be alright. Please, don't cry!" He soothed her, gently wiping her tears with his thump. Both of his hands reached up to caress her face, his voice slightly breaking, "It's…really y-you, Hermione, y-you are s-safe..." He flung his arms around her again, hugging her so tight that her breast was pressed against his warm chest, her nipples pleasantly sore. She was rubbing his back comfortingly, when he spoke firmly to her ears, "You'll be safe, Hermione, I will keep you safe. I will never let anything happen to you!" His voice faltered again, "…Don't ever…leave me, Hermione…I need you…so badly…I'm scared…"
He was weeping into her hair, his cry muffled in the thick brown tangle, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably with oncoming spurts of tears. She clung to him, her heart twisted in anguish, feeling his pain physically attacking her fragile body. She knew his tears were of relief, bursting relief from evading a tragic experience, so she simply held him, letting him cry freely on her shoulder
Reluctantly pulling apart, he slid his hands down to her waist, grabbing both of her sides as if to stop her from escaping. She looked deeply into his bloodshot eyes, holding back her own tears, saying with the strongest conviction she could garner at that delicate moment, "You will fight him, Harry! I know you will!" She leaned in closer, throwing her arms around his neck, her brown eyes bright with passion, "You are the bravest young man I've ever known, Harry! You are the youngest seeker in a century! You have incredible talents in flying and defense against dark arts! You have faced hell more times than anyone here at Hogwarts, but you always came back, safe and sound, more powerful and tenacious each time. You are a great wizard, Harry, and you are also a great person as well. You have so much strength and love in you that he fears you, Harry. He fears you so much that he feels the compelling need to harm you. Your heart is so pure that it makes him weak. You hold the strongest power that he can never acquire that he is inferior to you right from the beginning of the game, Harry!"
He added more pressure on her waist, his eyes shining with such intensity that her knees felt like protesting again. She clutched at him with abandon, trembling slightly in his strong arms, yet her voice remained clear, "And I trust you with my life, I believe in you with all my heart! And I am always here, Harry. Never allow your mind to come up with those silly ideas! I won't ever leave you! I don't think I can, even if you want me to, Harry, I will still cling to you like a leech. I also need you…so much… so terribly that..."
She couldn't finish. Her eyes flicked to his lips, fervent desires swelling in her heart, a lump caught in her throat. They were so close that she could feel his scent mingled with his sweat. She vaguely thought that it was time to let go, but he had yet to loosen his grip.
He said softly into her ears, "Uhm…Hermione…" he swallowed before speaking again, his voice becoming hoarse, "…there's something I've always wanted to do for a long time…uhm…would you…would you mind terribly, Hermione, if…if I t-tried now?"
He was downright blushing, his cheeks adorably rosy in the amber firelight, his emerald eyes gleaming with childlike excitement while she was feeling very warm, as if she were hovering above the flaming hearth. Warmth spread through her entire body, her heart blossoming in thrills and bliss. It was all she could do not to twirl around in joy and ecstasy. She had the grace to wear a nervous smile on her crimson face as she stared openly at his mouth.
Although his intention was obvious in her astute mind, she was caught rather surprised when he kissed her full on the lips. His arm still circling around her waist, one hand lacing in her thick curls, he was soon kissing her passionately as if this were the umpteenth time he kissed her, his lips both forceful and gentle. She was responding keenly, her toes unwittingly curled when she was lost in the sweet tenderness of his kiss, tingles running from her lips down to her feet.
He deepened the kiss, making her bend backwards, and just before she was on the verge of falling, he lifted her up, carrying her to the couch, his lips glued to hers. He was running his tongue over her lips as his hands slipped under her flannel shirt, roaming over her stomach, yet when he was about to explore further up, he broke the kiss abruptly. She barely had time to grab his collar, mouthing a simple "what", a petulant look on her face, her eyes glazed over from the last residue of pleasure.
He shook his head amusedly and pressed a chaste kiss on her mouth before sitting up. She tugged the rubber band off her hair, not even wincing when it got tangled up, sending a frown at him. He dropped his eyes to the floor, running his hand through his similarly ruffled mop, as a small smile unconsciously alighting on her lips, how cute, she briefly mused.
"Bloody Hell!" He muttered loudly. Before a stern "Language, Potter!" could escape her mouth, he cleared his throat, the way one normally prepared to give an eloquent, long-winded speech in front of a large crowd. She bit her lips to prevent a laugh bubbling up in her chest. Unexpectedly, he took on a somewhat grave tone, "Well, the thing is, Hermione, I sort of…used a very, very mild…summoning charm on you earlier. You see, Hermione, I kindda panicked when you ran off, and I…well…you know the rest..."
She actually had figured out at some point, but now hearing him confirm her speculation, she felt extremely giddy, thinking how deviously romantic a gentleman he was to catch her in his strong arms, and she just wanted to melt in his embrace again. He glanced at her then, a roguish smile stretched on his oh-so-kissable lips, making her awfully fidgety. He clucked his tongues, "It's a very good thing I did what I did, I must say!" He was ogling her breast, his eyes darkened, his voice throaty, "Never mind, Granger! Why don't we just carry on our unfinished business?"
He was all ready to pound on her, and she felt morbidly itchy to yank open her shirt, her cheeks flaming with sheer arousal. She pushed herself up against the couch arm, pretending to smooth her shirt, shaking her head vigorously in an attack of nerves. She was never the one to take failure in her stride, and if she failed to satisfy him, she would be dead mortified, I can't lose him, she thought hysterically.
"Hermioneeee!" his whine cut into her contemplation. She blinked. He pouted. He was both boyish enough to shatter her nascent doubts, and seductive enough to provoke erotic desires, making her feel particularly sensual in his eyes. Her confidence considerably bolstered, she folded her arms in front of her chest, smiling cheekily at him, daring him to come nearer.
His gaze settled upon her face, a flicker of earnest confusion and hurt in his intense green eyes, "Forgive me, Hermione…" he said quietly, his voice quavering, "I'm afraid …I'm… crazy about you now…but I won't…I can't…if you don't wa—"
She couldn't take his unreasonable insecurity any longer, and how he admitted his wants, yet still managed to keep his wretched nobility left her torn between exasperation and vehement affection for him. The brightest witch of her age tackled the problem the only way she knew when it came to the charmingly headstrong raven-haired wizard, Idiot, he has not an idea that I am willing to give anything to him! Lesson teaching be damned! She launched herself at him, her lips naturally finding his, cutting him off mid-sentence. Caught completely by surprise, he spread his arms trying to catch her but lost balance instead, and they both tumbled onto the hearth rug, their lips plastered together.
They continued to kiss each other, with increasing vigour and eagerness, both yearning to revel in this aura of euphoria. Adoration and wonder bright in his dark eyes, he uttered all sorts of incomplete flattering words between kisses, filling her with sheer rapture and fulfillment. Both reluctant to let go, their kiss slowed down to a sweet and tender waltz of their tongues, and her heart simply exploded with happiness. She felt wonderful with his loving caresses; she felt complete in his arms.
The warm fire was crackling merrily, its embers glowing a pretty pinkish-red under the grate. The clock became hushed for fear of ruining the sweet romantic atmosphere. More flashes of lightning filtered through the uncurtained windows, illuminating the scene with an eerily blue-white light, yet neither occupant in the room noticed a thing, staying wrapped tight in each other's arms, and nothing could pierce the veil of silence draped over the Gryffindor common room, except for a husky voice saying sweet nothingness and soft moans of pleasure.
"I am madly in love with you," someone was croaking, mingled with a tremulous voice "I love you, I have been loving you all my life!"
One particularly curious wraith perked up his ears, catching the virtually inaudible words, and raised his fist in victory. Mr Oblivious finally declared his love, meaning he won the bet. The Fat Friar and Peeves owed him one big feast on his deathday this Halloween. The excited ghost floated out of the room to announce to his fellows, leaving the couple cuddling closer on the couch, drown in their sweet and ardent love, safe, warm and cozy in a perfectly uninterrupted world of their own./.
A/N: one drabble born out of the seemingly endless downpour that settled upon the sweltering Southern US ground yesterday. Hope you enjoy reading on a rainy day :)
