Disclaimer: Dude, I don't own them. Though, I'd totally take any of the Hogwarts boys if I could have one. Real boys are overrated.

Chapter Eleven: Promise Me You'll Always Stay

I sigh internally as I scoot up against the wall next to Potter.

"Do not tell me I heard the word 'ants' in that conversation."

He brings a hand up to wipe at his mouth, avoiding my eyes. "Yeah, ants."

"So... what's going on?" I glance at him and know getting any information out of him will be like pulling teeth.

"I, uh..." He trails off and it doesn't seem like he's planning on continuing.

And for some reason I just feel so disgusted. Maybe with him or maybe with myself. Hell, maybe both of us.

"Look, Harry--" I stop, wondering why I used his first name. "--Whatever, honestly. You don't owe me any kind of explanation. I mean, us? We're not really in that sort of relationship, are we?"

"Pans--"

"No. I--I don't know what this..." I motion at the air between us, somehow it's supposed to represent our relationship. I only hope he gathers that. "Is supposed to be. I really don't. But... I just... can't..."

He tries to break in again. "I'm so sorry--"

"Harry--" There's his name again. "--no. Just let me finish, okay? I don't know what this is between us. Like, it's hard to even comprehend it all at once, you know? And I know it's wrong. I know I'm promised to Draco. I know that, okay?"

And, oh fuck, I'm crying. What is with the waterworks lately? I am getting so sick of it.

He shifts as if he's going to move closer to me. I put one hand out in a silent plea for him to stay where he is. I take a shaky breath and continue.

"But just thinking about leaving here... Thinking about what life would be like without you? I can't even imagine it. I don't know why, either. It doesn't make sense. I thought I was happy before, you know? But now..." I shake my head. "Now everything is just so different. I don't know what to do anymore."

I glance at him from the corner of my eye before turning to face him. "Harry, tell me what to do."

He swallows hard and I see his Adam's apple bob. "Just stay. Stay here with me."

And now I'm crying more than before.

"Well, not just me," he amends. "Ron and Hermione too."

I wipe away some of the tears from my eyes. "Because of the ants?"

"Yeah." He gives me the smallest of smiles. "Because of the ants."

"How long do we have? Before they're here, that is."

"Twenty minutes?"

I finally close the space between us, wrapping my arms around his torso and bury my head in the crook of his shoulder. It's strange to feel so safe.

He clears his throat.

"Hey, uh, Pans?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not too big on personal space, are you?"

I wonder if that is his subtle way of asking me to get the hell off of him. I start to pull away, but his arms tighten around me.

I frown into his neck. "Why?"

"Well, uh, as you know, my apartment only has two bedrooms."

I smile. "Yes, I might've visited once or twice."

"Yeah. And, well, Hermione and Ron are going to need somewhere to stay."

"The couch?"

"No," I feel him shake his head, "I don't think the couch is going to cut it. Besides, it doesn't even fold out."

"What?" This time I do pull back a bit, to face him. "Who buys couches that don't fold out?"

"What do you mean, who buys couches that don't fold out? People who like to be able to move their furniture by themselves, that's who. Do you know how much hide-a-beds weigh? Like tons. Not even kidding."

Now, I've never tried to move a couch-bed, but I'm skeptical nonetheless. "I think you might be kidding a little."

"Well, maybe just a bit. But yeah. No hide-a-bed."

I pout. "I don't want to share a room with Granger."

He bursts out laughing. "Of course you don't."

"What's so funny? Come on, I really don't want to! Don't make me, please."

"The thought never even crossed my mind."

And then I realize the obvious. I'm going to be sleeping in his bed. And oh-my-god is that ever going to be weird. But not as weird as it would be sharing a bed with Granger, I suppose.

"So, you think us sharing a bed is going to get you laid?"

He laughs. "Hey, I had nothing to do with any of this."

I nod sarcastically. "You already decided that I was going to be sharing your room."

"Well, it only makes sense. 'Cause, like, you can't keep Ron and Hermione apart. It goes against nature and everything. No matter how many rooms there are in a house, 95 percent of the time they end up in the same one."

"95 percent, huh? You do a statistical analysis or something in your free time?"

"What do you think?"

"I think you're too busy saving the world to run analyses on anything. Even your two best friends."

"You'll never know for sure, though, will you?"

I sigh. "I just don't know how I'm going to live with all the uncertainty. For real, even, Potter."

"Well, you'll live in my bed, for a start."

"Oh, that's right. I'd already forgotten. You're just that memorable!" I lightly punch him on the shoulder.

"Thanks," he says as he grabs for the hand I just hit him with, "I like to think so."

I take a moment and stare at my hand wrapped up in his. I look back to him. "Did this conversation have a point?"

"Yeah," he smiles enthusiastically. "You in my bed."

I laugh. "I have a feeling a lot of our conversations are going to come down to that."

"You could be right."

"I feel like we should toast to the future."

"Will bottled water work? I don't keep much of anything else on hand."

I pretend to be shocked by the news he has nothing in his kitchen. "I had no idea."

"Don't be smart."

"Don't be an idiot." I smile at him again.

"That's like telling me not to breathe, you know."

"Did I ever tell you you'd look good in blue?"

"Possibly. I didn't believe you then either, babe. Blue would totally clash with my eyes."

"Oh, so you've given it thought?"

"Not much. Just a little here, a little there."

"Sure."

And then I pull myself close to him again, resting my head on his shoulder. It's really nice for the whole two minutes it lasts.

I swear they don't even bother knocking. The first thing I hear are keys thrown on the kitchen table.

Weasley yells. "Honey, we're home!"

I briefly wonder if he brought me that jar of peanut butter I asked him for earlier today that he never delivered on.

I move off of Harry quickly. I stand and begin to blindly straighten out my clothes and hair.

Harry pulls himself off the floor in one fluid motion. Somehow he doesn't look rumpled in the slightest bit. Why is it guys' clothes all come with some wrinkle-resistor? They've got it so easy.

I hear Hermione. "Ronald, what have I told you about taking off your shoes?"

"Um, to do it?"

"So," she says pointedly, "what are you forgetting?"

Harry and I round the corner into the kitchen.

Harry smiles. "C'mon Hermione, it's not that big of a deal."

She shakes her head. "Don't encourage him Harry. He has to learn."

Ron raises both of his eyebrows. "Hello? I'm standing right here. Thanks."

I give him an expectant look.

His eyebrows drop back to their normal position. "Oh, no. No, Pansy. I did not bring you your peanut butter. You are just going to have to learn to live without it."

I sigh. "Just 'cause Granger keeps you on the world's shortest leash doesn't mean you have to take it out on everyone else."

He looks to Harry. "Is there no way to shut her up?"

"Hey." He gives him a warning glance. "Play nice."

I consider sticking my tongue out at Ron, but Harry turns to me before I can act on it. "You too, missy. We've all got to get along. Pull together, you know? It'll be like a nice bedtime story or something. People will admire us for centuries to come."

All three of us give him blank stares.

"What? No? Well, fine. Just be nice for the sake of being nice then, okay? Is that going to be so hard?"

I look at him like he's sort of crazy. "Uh, yeah. It totally will be."

Ron nods. Hermione looks reluctant to say anything at all.

"Whatever, guys," Harry says. "C'mon Ron, Hermione. Let's get you to the guest room."

"Oh," Hermione interjects, "but isn't that where Pansy's staying?"

"Um, yeah, she was. But obviously..."

"So where's she staying now? Honestly, Harry, you can't just kick her out."

Ron looks skeptically at me. I feel like he's trying to figure out where exactly I plan on going when Harry kicks me out. I actually think I see a little sympathy in his eyes. And while that sympathy might score me the peanut butter I want, I don't really like it. The sympathy that is.

Despite Ron staring at me, I manage to laugh at Granger, thus sparing Harry the problem of explaining things to her. "I've been promoted. Harry and I are going to stay in the same room."

"You're what?" That's from Granger. She looks a little appalled.

"Hey, settle down. That's what we did when we first moved into our house, Hermione."

Her expression softens. Ron slings an arm around her shoulder and starts to lead her to their new room. "All righty then, Miss Hermione. I think we could both use some quiet time. A little relaxation after the whole ant fiasco."

I hear her faintly mumble, "I hate ants. I really do."

He pulls her a little closer and speaks softly. "I know, babe. I know."

Oddly enough, now that we're left alone again, I feel weird around Harry. Awkward, you know?

I guess it shows through because he brushes his hand across my shoulder. "Hey, you doing okay?"

I look into his green, green eyes. "Yeah, I'm good."

He smiles. "Good. Let's go watch some TV, yeah?"

o o o

Harry opts not to go back to work after his lunch hour and we spend the day and night watching some history channel. It's great how muggles go about excavating ancient cities and other stuff like that. I mean, they have these little brushes that are about the size of a paint brush and they just sit there and brush away sand. I mean, how dull can one person's job get?

Wait, how dull does my life have to be that I find entertainment in watching them dust sand off of old shit? I try talk about this with Harry, but instead of staying on subject, he just smiles.

"I think it's time for bed. You're getting a little kooky."

"I'm always kooky."

"Maybe you never get enough sleep."

"I--" I stop to consider that. "Maybe I don't."

"Okay, then. Bedtime!"

And then it really hits me. I'm going to be sleeping with Harry Potter tonight.

I mean, it's not like it hasn't happened before, but still. Remember the whole drooling incident? Merlin, I hope that doesn't happen again.

I realize that I'm starting to panic. And then I realize that Harry's already standing and the TV has been turned off.

He holds a hand out to me. "C'mon, let's go."

I remind myself to breathe. I remind myself that he's just a guy. And not even that great of a guy, either.

Okay, so I'm lying to myself. Can you really blame a girl?

After a moment's hesitation I grab his hand and stand from the couch.

Once we reach his room and he's shut the door, I turn to him.

"Harry, I can't... Not tonight." I hope he understands what I mean.

He smiles at me again. "I wouldn't even dream of it, Pansy."

I'm finally able to return his smile. "Liar."

"Okay, maybe I'd dream of it. But, still. Willpower and all that shit! It's totally rocking my world right now."

I nod. "Okay. Thanks. Really."

He pulls off his dress shirt and immediately pulls a t-shirt over his head. "Anything for you, babe."

I move across the room to where he's standing and give him a hug. "You're really a great guy. You know that, right?"

He presses his nose into my hair. "I might've heard it once or twice. Never gets old, though."

I smile and close my eyes. "Can I borrow one of your t-shirts to sleep in tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll grab one." He releases his hold on me and starts digging in the top drawer of his bureau, pulling out a navy shirt.

I take it from him and sort of flounce past him and into his bathroom. "Be back in a bit!"

When I return from the bathroom, he's already in bed, arms crossed behind his head and is staring at the ceiling. It's like a total meditative state before he goes to sleep or something.

I slowly crawl in beneath the sheets next to him and start to settle myself.

He turns his head towards me. "What are you doing all the way over there?"

"Uh, personal space?"

"Nonsense." And he pulls me close to him, arms wrapping around me once again. I can't help but shiver a little.

"You cold?"

"No. I'm perfect."

He smiles. "Night, Pansy."

I whisper, "Night, Harry."

o o o

When I wake up the next morning, Harry's already gone.

I get out of bed and go to the living room, flicking on the Sacred Television Set, or Herbie, as I like to call it when I'm feeling lots of love for it. About ten minutes later, Hermione comes out of her and Ron's room, and glances at the TV and then at me. She then proceeds to shuffle into the kitchen.

"You want breakfast?"

"What?" ...'cause, honestly, I don't know what she could possibly be referring to. The old box of frosted flakes in the cupboard by the sink? I mean, honestly? No thank you.

She pops her head back into the living room. "Breakfast. You know, pancakes, eggs, French toast, bacon, grapefruit...?"

I laugh out loud. "You know that there's no way in hell Harry's got any of that, right?"

She shrugs like it doesn't matter. And, well, what do I know? Maybe it doesn't matter.

"Orange juice?" I question.

"Sure, why not?"

I smile. Breakfast is so awesome.

"So, what'll it be?"

Who knew old Hermo-ninny could be so nice? Forget that, who knew she was a morning person? Who even knew morning people actually existed?

"Um... scrambled eggs, bacon... Hey, can we have hash browns?"

"I'll see what I can do."

And I know we'll have hash browns, 'cause, hello! Hermione Granger is on the case.

Looking back to the TV, I realize I am in a really good mood now, too. Maybe the promise of cooked breakfast has the ability to make anyone into a morning person. Who knows?

Almost three hours later Ron Weasley emerges from the pit of Harry's apartment, looking disheveled and oh-so sleepy.

"Morning, sunshine," Hermione chirps loud enough that he winces. I have a feeling she does it on purpose.

"Breakfast?" he mumbles.

"There are leftovers on the stove."

With a nod he trudges into the kitchen. He comes back out with a frying pan in one hand and a fork in the other. He sinks towards the floor and props himself up against the couch, shoving his face full of what has to be a slightly cold breakfast.

Watching him eat somehow entrances me. When Hermione speaks it scares the crap out of me.

"You do know that pan is Teflon, right Ron?"

He mumbles something that sounds a lot like "What the fuck?"

She purses her lips, "You better not be scraping the finish on the pan. Because you know what'll happen if you do that, right?"

Apparently he's opting to ignore her.

"You'll end up eating chunks of Teflon. And do you know what else? Your body cannot digest chunks of Teflon. And you'll die of cancer."

I'm almost certain she's missing a few significant other facts about the whole eating Teflon thing, but I keep my mouth shut. I have no desire to duel with Granger. 'Cause, I mean, come on, she could totally take me. Any day of the week, even.

Ron rolls his eyes, but I notice that he seems to be making a conscious attempt not to even scuff the pan with his fork.

After he finishes eating, he stands and actually takes the pan back out into the kitchen. I can only assume it's something Hermione has taught him to do, 'cause there's no way the guy would behave in such a way had he not been tainted by some feminine influence.

When he returns to the room, he finally graces us with words: "I feel like fucking shit."

Hermione seems disinterested. "You've been sleeping an awful lot."

His face brightens at the prospect of receiving sympathy. "Which is why I can't figure it out. I think I'm coming down with something."

"Let me restate." She turns her head to look at him. "You've been sleeping too much."

He snorts. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not kidding. It's a scientific fact."

"What is?"

She gives him a once-over. "You are not seriously that daft."

"Humor me."

"It's a scientific fact that if you sleep too much, it'll only make you even more tired."

"What?"

"Look, it doesn't matter how it works, it just does. You're sleeping too much and that makes you sleepy."

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Well, unlike everyone else in the world, you aren't privileged enough to hear how you sound when you talk to people. So, yeah, I guess I'd buy that that's the stupidest thing you've ever heard."

Even I think that's pretty lame for Granger.

"Wait, nope." He shakes his head. "Never mind. Whatever the hell you just said was the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Thanks." She smirks. "You're so gracious."

"Anytime, babe." He smirks back at her. "Anytime."

I wait for them to continue talking. I mean, that can't be all there's going to be to the conversation, right? A girl has expectations!

"So... I'm going back to bed."

"You--What? Did you not listen to a word I just said?"

"Yeah, I did. It was painful. I had no idea what you were saying. I thought we established that already."

She stands up from the couch. "Do not go back to sleep."

He runs a hand through his tousled red hair. "Don't tell me what to do!"

"Ronald, do not pull that on me."

And he must realize she's actually getting angry. "Pull what? Was that innuendo?"

"What?" She's confused. "Fuck. No, it wasn't innuendo."

I begin to realize Granger's only a morning person (even though it's practically noon by now) until Ron wakes up.

"Sounded like innuendo." He raises his eyebrows suggestively.

"It wasn't--" She cuts herself off. "How did you change the subject like that on me?"

He holds his hands in front of himself, elbows bent and palms facing out. "I didn't change the subject, you're the one that wants in my pants."

"I do not want in your pants. Ugh."

He smiles. "Do not pretend it grosses you out. I know it doesn't."

"Just... ugh! Don't go back to sleep!"

"Why do you care?"

"'Cause I have to listen to you complain!"

He accepts this for some reason. "Oh."

And then he starts to head out of the room. Towards the bedroom.

Hermione glares at his retreating form. I honestly don't know how these two manage to live together all the time, I mean especially if they don't get to have angry sex or anything!

Just then Harry comes through the door. Thank Merlin for sanity!

Hermione turns to him. "Hi, Harry." Then she follows the path Ron has taken.

Harry pulls a face and turns his attention towards me. "She looked pissed. She's pissed, right?"

"Jeeze, Pot-Pot. And they say you don't have any brains in that pretty head of yours."

"Stupid question?"

"So stupid. I mean, is she ever not mad at Weasley?"

He thinks for a moment. "Yeah, there really are times."

"Are they both asleep during those times?"

He smiles. "No. Holidays, surprisingly enough. They get along really well during the holidays."

I consider this while slouching back into the couch, eyes flicking over the TV screen before returning back to him. I don't really know what to say in return.

"What did you bring me, then?"

"Bring you?"

"From your ventures to the mysterious Outer World, duh!"

"Oh, I'd almost forgotten. I visit so many mysterious worlds a day. But, really, you can't expect gifts from all those worlds, sweetie, 'cause I just couldn't possibly afford it."

"That's crap and you know it."

"Maybe. Maybe not. It's expensive having three people living with me."

"You know you like it."

"Yeah, I'm totally getting the childhood I never had. Only mommy and daddy aren't married and they fight like they're brother and sister. And you? Oh, don't even get me started."

"Wait, what am I in this little family?"

He gives me a sarcastic smile.

"C'mon, Potter. Lemme know. I wanna knoowww. I'm dying here!"

"The truth?"

"The truth," I affirm.

"You are the... hm... annoying pet Pekingese whose fur gets absolutely everywhere and that has a super special diet and has to be fed hourly; but no one really seems to mind for some reason."

I know there must be a compliment in there somewhere, but my interests are somewhere else. "If I'm a Pekingese, why don't I get to go outside?"

"That's what the newspaper is for, Pans." He smiles. He totally knows he's made some sort of pun there.

A/N: Holy crap! Look at this! An update that didn't take a million years! I totally must have superpowers or something. Not even kidding. Well, much.

Okay, the story! I know lots of you don't like Ron/Hermione. And, honestly? I get it. I totally do. I hated them too. But then I had, like, this epiphany about them... I wrote about it on my profile. So yes. That's that explanation there.

Reviewers! I LOOVEE you all. So much!

Thanks to: Cybill, LaBelle Evans, blueeyedchibi, xoTORTORxo, Lrnd, Lucifer-the-great-undead, EnlightenedKing, Gwinna, & Zevrillion for reviewing! I'm going to message all y'all back regarding your reviews and what you had to say! 'Cause I just heart you all that much. For real, even!

-tahwekilelohcin

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(2/17/07)