Harry gave the password and walked into the Prefects' Bathroom on the fifth floor, cursing himself for not taking the time to check the map. His fears, though, turned out to be unfounded as the bathroom was blissfully empty. He put the golden egg near the pool and shed his bulky robes, clad only in a thin swimming short, courtesy of Hermione's excellent transfiguration skills.
After getting inside the pool, the dark-haired boy timidly tried to imitate Krum when he had jumped into Black Lake during one of the coldest afternoons of January. He failed spectacularly. Turns out, swimming was nothing like riding a broom. It didn't come to him instinctively like he hoped it would. If anything, the tenseness of his muscles and unsure movements of his arms added to his troubles.
I guess I could blame the Dursleys for this, as well, he deflected the blame to preserve his always bruised ego.
He was so focused on 'not drowning' that he failed to hear Hermione until she jumped into the water and paddled her way to him. He jumped out of his skin when he felt Hermione's hand on his stomach, holding him up, or at least trying to.
"Merlin, Hermione! You scared the magic out of me!"
"Language, Harry," she admonished. Two friends looked at each other and laughed.
Harry laughed hard. Not just because just by being in the same room with him, his best friend was enough for all the tension, and all of his fears, to melt away. Seeing his best friend clad only in a bikini, that would fit right in with fashion shows his uncle would watch, was all too confusing for his adolescent brain.
The swimsuit Hermione chose for a semi-naked study session with her friend was a bronze bikini, that went great with her fading tan. The top was showing far too much cleavage, and the bottom was basically three pieces of strings stitched together.
She's a girl, indeed. Too much of one, Harry thought and followed it by admonishing himself for thinking such randy thoughts about the said girl. She's your best friend. Not some girl in a magazine you can undress with your eyes. Show the girl some respect!
Hermione, unaware of her friend's spiralling thoughts, suggested they focus on the job at hand, which was... The egg! We are here to listen to the clue! Not so you can fantasise all the ways you can play with those perky brea- Stop it, dammit! Hermione may have a wonderful pair of tits and an arse to bounce galleons off of, but that is no reason to ignore the... Egg! We are here for the egg!
Two friends dived underwater, Harry barely able to focus on what the clue was saying due to his best friend's feminine form and his none existing swimming talents. Thank Merlin, Hermione has more than enough brains to do my thinking.
"... so they will take something, or someone, you care most about hostage and you will have an hour to retrieve it from the bottom of the ice-cold lake. What are you going to do, Harry? Harry? Harry?"
"Wha- What was that, Hermione?" asked Harry, whose face was red due to embarrassment and arousal.
"You weren't listening, were you?" asked Hermione, her voice laden with amusement at her friend's predicament.
"I... Sorry," he shrugged and smiled sheepishly.
Hermione smiled back. "Okay, we need to figure out a way for you to breathe underwater; and you need to learn how to swim because from what I've seen of your talents so far, you have none."
His ego sufficiently bruised, Harry's thoughts were back to the matter at hand. "How am I going to learn how to swim?"
Hermione looked at him like he was being extremely Ron. "I will teach you, of course."
Harry laughed. "Right. What was I thinking?"
Hermione nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. She swam over to the edge of the pool and put away the egg before paddling back to where Harry was watching her with fascination. "What?"
"Nothing. So, how are we going to do this?" Harry deflected.
"First, we need to get you comfortable in the water. You can't swim if you are this tense. I want you to lay on your back."
"And drown? Hermione, if you want to kill me, there are easier ways," Harry joked but followed her instructions. If Hermione was surprised with the trust he was showing, she didn't show. He laid back, trying to find his balance by using his arms and failing. He was doing fine until he felt Hermione's hands on his back and her breasts on his arm.
After drowning a little, he stood up, trying to find balance on his wobbly legs and breathing heavily. That he was red as a tomato and as aroused as he ever was, was putting on a strain on his body. Anaemia resulting from years of malnutrition was catching up to him as his body wasn't equipped to compensate for the blood rushing to his lower and upper regions simultaneously.
"Are you okay?" asked the reason for Harry's lightheadedness, her voice a mixture of pride and concern.
Damn you, Granger. "Yeah, I'm fine," he managed in between breaths.
She smiled, proud of the reaction she could provoke in her friend. "Let's try again, shall we?"
And try, they did. Harry ignored Hermione's distracting body up to a point and she was able to keep her desire to earn more of the same reactions in check.
She started by ensuring Harry felt somewhat comfortable in the water by supporting him while he settled on his back. It didn't take as long as Harry thought it would though he wasn't surprised. He trusted Hermione explicitly. He had a momentary terror when Hermione let go but adapted fast.
Next, Hermione thought Harry the breaststroke, first by showing, which didn't help Harry's blood flow at all, then by holding him while he tried.
He failed spectacularly.
He was all right with Hermione supporting him as he lay on his back because he could focus on the motifs drawn on the ceiling of the bath. But when the position reversed, when his head was under water and Hermione stood so close to him, he couldn't keep his eyes off her smooth stomach and legs.
She's a girl, indeed.
After ten minutes of failure, Hermione had enough. She pulled Harry above water, ready to rip him a new one. "It's not that hard, Harry!"
Her exasperation did nothing to help Harry's arousal as he realised how sexy she was when she was mad.
"Harry!"
"Sorry, it's just... You are a girl, Hermione!"
The said girl rolled her eyes. "This again? Thank you for noticing, Harry."
"But, Hermione, you are a girl who is half naked, holding me close," Harry explained desperately. "I'm a red-blooded teenage virgin. How can I concentrate when I have your damn gorgeous body so damn near me?!"
This time, it was Hermione who blushed like a schoolgirl, which she was. "If I can concentrate while having your naked body near me, you can concentrate too," she shot back. "And, thank you!" she yelled.
"It's not the same thing! I'm a runt with an underdeveloped body. You are gorgeous," explained Harry. "And, you are welcome!"
"Why did it take you so long to notice I'm a girl then?!"
Why did it take me so long to acknowledge my best friend as a girl and a beautiful one at that? "Because you were always there!" Harry yelled without thinking. "And can we stop with the yelling, please!"
Hermione ignored the second part of Harry's answer, focusing on the anger the first part lit up in her. "So, you thought of me as someone you can screw if you can't find anyone else?!" she yelled, unable to hold back the tears gathering on her eyes.
Meanwhile, Harry was confused, and mad at himself for upsetting his best friend. "Of course not. Don't be ridiculous," he pleaded. "Hermione, you and I have spent almost every waking hour since we were eleven together, except for summers and odd instances where I was being an idiot. When I met you, I did not understand what the concept of romance was, let alone distinguishing between someone I'd date and someone I wouldn't," he explained. He let out an explosive breath and massaged his forehead. "I'm not explaining myself right. Okay, you know how you don't notice the difference in someone's physique if you are with them day in and day out?"
Seeing Hermione's nod, he continued, "it's like that. Because you were always right next to me; because we grew up together; when the hormones kicked in, I failed to categorise you as a girl."
"What is that supposed to mean?" asked Hermione in a hurtful tone.
Harry was perplexed by how obtuse his friend was being but chalked it up to how upset she was. He sagged where he was standing and looked at Hermione with pleading eyes, wishing her to understand. "It means I didn't take the time to look at you and see you. It was stupid of me, I know, but as a teenager afflicted with male genes, I am expected to make stupid mistakes. While I always considered you beautiful, I didn't take the time to consider the potential ramifications of your beauty on our relationship. Beauty was just a state of being for me; until it wasn't. When that changed, I forgot to update your status regarding my newfound hormonal, carnal desires, that are, frankly, freaking me out."
Harry watched Hermione like a hawk all throughout his monologue. She went from hurt to confused, then to angry, followed by surprised and pleased. She ended the rainbow of emotions with understanding and sympathy. "You think I'm beautiful?" she asked in a small voice that made Harry curse himself and Ron, and every other male in the world, for his friend's low self-esteem.
"Of course, I do, Hermione. I mean, have you looked at yourself in the mirror?" he answered honestly, pleading with her to believe him. "If I wasn't afraid, I would say you have absolutely delicious looking breasts and an arse to die for," Harry said, hoping he didn't just destroy the best part of his life; his friendship with Hermione.
Hermione blushed something fierce and cooed. She cooed! "That's so sweet! Crass and disturbing but sweet."
Harry chuckled and let out a nervous breath before shrugging. "I try."
"So, Mr. Potter, have I been the star of any dirty dreams lately," asked Hermione with a laugh.
"Even if you hadn't, you will be after today," Harry answered with brutal honesty.
Hermione beamed at him which add to the general confusion Harry was feeling because of the unexpected way the day was going. "I can see that."
It was Harry's turn to blush, again, which was becoming a problem as he was sure if it persisted, his face would get stuck red forever. He narrowed his eyes at the girl who was having far too much fun at his expense. "You enjoy torturing me, don't you?"
Hermione shrugged and grinned unrepentantly. "I do. I, definitely, enjoy being able to get such a big and strong reaction from you."
Harry cocked his head to a side and lifted an eyebrow. "Ar- Are you flirting with me? Or is this some sick revenge for not noticing your femininity sooner?"
Hermione gave him a smug smile before answering, "Why can't it be both?"
Harry considered that answer for a moment before he had an epiphany. "You wore that bikini to seduce me, didn't you?"
"I do not!" Hermione exclaimed, scandalised.
"Then you dressing like that is your way of proving a point?"
"Maybe? Why does it matter?"
Harry shook his head at his maddening 'girl' friend and rapidly closed the distance between them. "Because I'm about to make an arse of myself if it is."
The no longer sure girl gulped at the predatory gleam at her friend's emerald eyes. "Wh- What are you going to do?"
Stopping a breath away from the brunette, Harry answered in a whisper, "Kiss you," and did just that.
It started out as an innocent and sweet kiss. Within moments, it turned into something hungry and far too erotic for both teenagers tastes. They broke apart, out of breath and barely in control, and looked at each other in the eye, unable to look away.
When their breathing finally returned to normal, they regretfully disengaged and put some distance between themselves.
"Damn!" Harry exclaimed, fifteen feet away from Hermione, a big smile on his face. "I was never so glad you are a girl!"