Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I know it is simple for a disclaimer, but this isn't something to keel over and laugh for… Oh fine. I own my disclaimer.
AN: Hello everybody! Everyone who reviews with compliments, suggestions, and CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISISM is welcome. No anonymous reviews, because if you have something bad to say, don't hide behind some anonymous name like 'somebody' – because if you included your name I'm not going to sink down to your level and flame one of your story for revenge! Anyway, this is NO LONGER an oneshot, twoshot, threeshot, or anything that has 'shot' in it. This is a story. This is a story somewhat based on someone's life. The updates won't come very fast; I need to write when I feel like it. This story has a mood and a feeling that can sort of reflect off of me somewhat. Every reviewer is smiled at!
The rain splattered onto the windowpanes; hail thumping onto the glass afterward.
This had been the seventh day that the rain continued to fall down nonstop. Herbology classes were canceled again, after the attempt to bring it back two days ago when everybody shrieked toward the greenhouses with their bags over their heads. Dropping mud from their shoes in, and some completely clumsy people covered entirely in mud who fell (like Neville) were always the last to arrive sopping wet. The worst part was, after everyone was settled into the greenhouse and the only noise was the soft dripping of cloaks and hair releasing small water drops – Professor Sprout did not show up in her futile attempt to save the flooding of plants.
Hermione was very aware of the weather and what it meant. Perhaps Harry and her were on the same lines of thinking – but the rain had been here ever since the memorable night of the 'I Never' game. It still poured down as furiously as it had exactly one week ago when it all started – and she was thinking that perhaps it was still not happy with the outcome of their little 'relationship'.
They would walk along the corridors, their hands under their cloaks but entwined nevertheless. When Ron would come sprinting down the corridor with the papers flying behind him, their hands would struggle to let go of the other and walk on like nothing had happened.
The fact that Ron had no idea of this was even worse to it all. Harry would talk to him at the Great Hall for lunch; Hermione worriedly dashing from the library to the Great Hall in fear of Harry breaking and babbling what had happened.
She would have dreams of Harry and her spending the holidays together which always rang happily in her mind clearly when she went to breakfast.
And then she would have nightmares. Harry and her would be walking hand in hand down the hall, laughing about some gossip of Malfoy's detention when Ron would come darting towards them with red ears and his face showing hatred and loathing. This dream would repeat itself, although sometimes Draco would be at Ron's side with a smirk and talking to him like he was his best friend.
And the worst dream she had – the one she only had once but still relived in her mind – was where Harry had betrayed her and told Ron everything. She would wake up almost screaming, but her voice caught in her throat achingly. Her pajama damp, and sweat prickling down her forehead, the only way to solve this was try to forget it – and Hermione seriously considered Obliviating herself sometimes.
And the fact that Ron brought up the idea to play 'I Never' that evening in the common room. Hermione jumped, waiting to hear roars of laughter from Harry and Ron – but no. Harry's eyes shot up from his book uneasily. They caught Hermione's uncertainly.
"Ron. Where did you learn that game from?"
"Fred and George. One of their clients told them this muggle game and it sounds really fun."
"I have homework, Ron."
Ron chortled. "You? Late on homework?"
Harry snapped his book shut and said, "Two people playing wouldn't really work, now would it?"
Ron closed his mouth and mumbled, "Yeah – I think I'll go to bed." He stretched his arms before disappearing up the boy's dormitory stairs.
Hermione got up as well, ready to climb up the girls' dormitory stairs, when she felt a strong grip on her arm stop her.
"Hermione, I think we can talk about this." Harry mumbled pulling her toward the couch.
"I jump when something like this comes up. It's just the mention of a game and I get frightened," Hermione whispered disbelievingly. "What am I thinking? That the same thing will happen with me and Ron or something?"
Harry winced a little and Hermione couldn't help smiling.
"Oh, come on, Harry." She said gently, playing slapping his arm.
He gave a grin before wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulder. If only all of this was a dream… This was all a dream… No dealing with Ron… No jumping at the mention of muggle games… Then it was a very real dream.
Blurriness came to her eyes. Yes, she was waking up now. Everything should be coming into focus now…
And it did. She was in the corridors, briskly walking around the stone steps until her gaze fell upon Harry leaning against one particular stony wall. Some papers shuffled under his arm, his bangs hid his eyes from view. Something was wrong with this picture – where were all the shrieking students running wildly around the halls –
"Harry?"
"Oh – Hermione – hi!" Harry replies unenthusiastically, nervously wiping his forehead.
She was trying to avoid his gaze. His green eyes seemed more serious and complex than ever before.
If this is real life, this is much better than my dream. Hermione reasoned. But what are his intentions? More than a thousand possible intentions zoomed into her head at once, Hermione struggling to file through them.
"I was hoping to run into you here," Harry mumbles quietly, fidgeting with his papers and eyeing the floor. "I have something to tell you."
Hermione's mouth stuttered open and close before giving a weak and feeble smile.
"Uh…" He rubs the back of his neck nervously. "Okay," He says firmly, his eyes still on his shoes with his hand snapping down. "Alright, this isn't easy to say. I'm usually not the one to say anything like this at all – but you would now – all right! I'm just going to say it. Now. Quick and painful; I love you."
A ringing silence joins the air and all the footsteps from the other halls seem to drone away. More than a hundred intention fly out of Hermione's head and a hundred thoughts take their place. If her mouth was stuttering before, it sure was now. The pages secured by her hand slip a little as her hands become automatically slippery and sweaty. She brushes the few strands of hair out of her eyes and mumbles not-so-clearly:
"Is this a joke?" In barely a whisper, he looks at Hermione disbelievingly. A dark shade of crimson come over his head. Harry shook his head, but still didn't meet Hermione's eyes.
"No."
"Is this a prank?" Babbling out of Hermione's mouth, she would have clapped a hand over her forehead.
"What? No!" Harry replies loudly in an exasperated and sort of impatient voice.
"Okay. Is this a bet?"
"No!"
"Between you and Ron or Malfoy or someone?"
"No!"
Hermione heaved a sigh, and then, in barely a whisper, she added in a more serious tone:
"But… But I thought you never saw me like that."
"How could I not? After a certain amount of time every angle comes into view, does it not?
Hermione could almost feel the words slipping out of her mouth: 'I never thought of you like that' just to change the subject, but closed her mouth to silence instead.
"I'm afraid I'm dead serious," he said in a whisper of reply. "I wish I wouldn't be."
A translucent tear ran down Hermione's face, and in a frantic attempt to stop this from happening – she ran.
She ran with more tears splashing down her face and her eyes squinting to keep out the salty water of tears; which were falling profusely down her front. Suddenly teachers appeared, plenty of them, all looking in a mistrusting way toward her way. Hermione could feel papers scattering out of her sweaty grip, flying on behind her. There was another door ahead – she was so close to escape this all. Her eyes were going out of focus from the tears streaming into her eyes. She took that moment to remove one of her hands from the protective grasp she had around her remaining papers to wipe her eyes. But things became blurrier. A stream of light was gushing out of nowhere – she was toppling to the ground. Her eyes were burning, more blurriness all around her now. The objects around her were disappearing, people were gone – was she fainting?
No. She shut her eyes tightly, and suddenly – a wave of clearness and reality was back. Air was back in her lungs, the pressure from her opening her eyes vanished. Her eyes were not burning – she could have opened them. Still, she kept them closed to avoid the salty beads of sweat falling into her eyes. The dampness of her clothes made them stick to her back – she was rolling around with a grimacing expression on her face. A faint sound of footsteps made her eyes fly open. She was going to babble in her sleep.
"H-Harry?" The familiar golden and burgundy common room swirled back into view.
It was just a dream. It was all a dream.
But such a real feeling dream.
"Hermione – you slept really long – you have classes really soon." Hermione felt her back prickle to raise itself.
"W-What? C-Classes?"
"Are you okay?" She could feel someone kneeling beside her brushing the hair out of her forehead. It tingled at the feel of Harry's dry hands on her face. "God, Hermione, you're all sweaty. You should change."
"Oh – no, no, no – I have to go to classes!" Hermione said in a feeble firm way, impatiently wiping her forehead and standing up. Harry pushed her back onto the couch.
"No, Hermione. You should have seen your face before you woke up."
"Oh, please, Harry – I have to go."
"D-Did you hear anything?"
"What?"
"In my sleep?"
"Hermione, just rest here and change for about five minutes. It'll be fine if you're late one time."
Hermione fluttered her eyelids closed. Before she could respond, Harry connected their lips to a kiss. Hermione blinked several times in surprise before gently wrapping her hands around his neck. Harry pulled away with a smile.
"It was just a dream." She muttered, and Harry gave her a quizzical look.
"What?"
"It was all a dream. Oh, Harry!" She flung her arms around his back and gave a small sob.
"Uh – whatever it was – it was just a dream, err, Hermione, it's all fine…" He consoled soothingly.
"I wish it will all end with the complications."
"I Never has its complications too, Hermione. It brought up complications like us. But that's not entirely a complication. It's bittersweet, but I enjoy having two tastes at the same time."
AN: Not really a cliffhanger, mmm, now? I decided that every chapter-end will have some sort of acknowledgment of I Never. In the first chapter, they had played the game. In the second, they ended it talking about the point of I Never. And here, their talking about the complications. Every H/Hr has its little Ron complications – with either Evil! Ron, Dead! Ron, We don't really care about! Ron, or Matchmaker! Ron. I have decided that from now on, every chapter will be based on the plot of a song. I will say the artist, just guess the song and I'll take a suggestion from you for future chapters! Of course, you would be acknowledged for helping… Thank you reviewers, once again!
This chapter was based after a song from this artist: The Romantics
Please apply and your suggestion might be the next to turn up – (it will one time or another if it not a new ship – another ship – or something really dramatic and life-changing!)
I love you all!