Holy crap, she really loved him. How could he had not have seen this before? Because you're clueless, a voice inside his head answered him. Problem was, he had no idea what to think or what to feel now, knowing that she was in love with him. Fuck.
Chapter Eleven
Hermione awoke next morning with the feeling that someone was staring at her. After blinking a few times in order to get used to the sunlight streaming in through the blinds, her gaze settled on the face of Harry Potter, who indeed was staring at her. He gave her a gentle smile when he saw that she was awake, a smile which she returned with a shy innocence that made his heart clench.
"Hey," he whispered as he brought his hand up to hers, carefully entwining his fingers with hers.
"Hey," she answered, her reply also an whisper.
She wondered how long he had been awake and if he had been staring at her nonstop since then. She hoped she hadn't been so out of it that she had been drooling.
"How are you?" he asked her as something in eyes shifted, but his smile was still there.
He opened his arms, inviting her in and she scooted closer to him.
"Me? I'm absolutely perfect," she said as cuddled into his embrace, her face close enough to his chest for her to kiss it. "You?"
He kissed the top of her head and tightened his arms around her a little.
"I'm good," he answered as his fingers started trailing a path over her back. "Are you sore at all?"
Hermione chuckled into his chest and then she turned her neck enough to be able look him in the eye.
"No, Harry. I'm perfect."
And that was the truth. She had never woken up feeling so relaxed and content after a night's sleep and though she didn't feel any different physically, she felt like a new person today. Harry had opened her eyes to so many things – she could, for instance, somewhat understand now why he had lead such a lascivious life in the recent years. From here on forth, sex would be addictive, even for her, and she pushed away the feeling of dread she felt when she wondered what withdrawal would be like when, not if, Harry cut her lose. She wanted to berate herself for thinking such things, that she was so sure that he wasn't capable of change, but she needed to stay realistic simply in order to protect her heart. Besides, there was a huge chance that Harry would change, but that could take years. They were, after all, still very young, even by muggle standards. But Hermione would wait for him forever, if she had to.
Since Harry had woken, over an hour before Hermione, he had had a variety of feelings and thoughts shoot in and out of his mind. He was more confused and conflicted than ever and he hated it, as it made him feel weak. And more than anything else, he felt as if he was being unfair to Hermione for not being ready for a real relationship and the last thing he wanted was to lead her on. At the same time, he felt as if he couldn't get enough of her – not only the physical aspects of this thing they had, but he enjoyed just spending time with her, talking to her; waking up next to her.
"How long were you staring at me, Harry, before I woke up?" she mumbled into his chest, placing a few kisses on it and smiled happily when his breath hitched.
"Oh, an hour or so," he answered in a matter-of-fact tone, smiling when he felt Hermione breath on his skin as she laughed. "It was very dull."
Hermione pulled away from him with a look of mock-annoyance on her face and she smacked him gently over his head. Harry tried to keep his expression straight, but was quite unable to as he let out short laugh of amusement.
"Stupid man, if you were bored, you simply should have woken me," Hermione declared with a roll of her eyes, but they sparkled with mischief. "I assure you, I am much more entertaining awake than asleep."
Harry smirked at that and swiftly pulled her close, their faces only an inch apart from each other. He saw Hermione's eyes widen with excitement and he glanced at her mouth, needing confirmation that it was already open, waiting for him to kiss her.
"I can imagine that you are," he murmured against her lips before he connected them to his own.
Hermione let out a moan, a sound he knew he would never tire of. Who knew that Hermione Granger could make sounds like that and that they would be such a turn on? He rolled her over on her back, running his hand down in between her breasts, over her stomach and then he snaked his arm around her, his mouth leaving hers in order to give the nipples that were already peaking some much deserved attention.
"Harry wait," Hermione gasped out and a mere second later Harry's eyes found hers – he was looking slightly confused. "Can you do the charm now so that we won't have to... pause to do it later?"
Harry smiled at that and dove for his wand on his nightstand and then dove back over Hermione when the charm was safely on her. When his body was perfectly molded against hers, he spent a little time just looking into her brown orbs. That look in her eyes that he hadn't been able to identify yesterday was back, and after what he had heard her whisper yesterday, he guessed that the look in her eyes could be nothing else other than the love she felt for him. It made his heart swell, knowing that someone loved him so much, that it wasn't only because he was famous that people wanted to be with him. But it scared him at the same time. Would Hermione except him to commit to her?
He shoved the thought away from his mind, choosing to ignore it at the moment. He broke their eye contact by kissing her softly – first on her lips, then her cheekbone, down to her neck and collarbone, and he gave her nipples equal attention before he worked his way down over her stomach. Hermione squirmed and moaned as he slowly but steadily made his way to the place she wanted to feel his mouth the most and when he finally got there her hips bucked involuntarily.
"Please, Harry," she mumbled softly, being unable to mask the need in her tone.
Harry's head snapped up, quickly replacing his tongue with his thumb.
"Please, what, Hermione?" he wondered as he placed a kiss on her stomach, never stopping his swift movements with his thumb.
"Please... Uuuugh, yeeees! Please, Harry, more!" she demanded with such urgency in her voice that Harry decided to put her out of her misery.
Placing hard his member at her entrance, he gently pushed himself inside of her and they simultaneously moaned in pleasure at the contact. For a second, Harry didn't move – he just wanted a moment and a chance to remember the feeling of her tight warmth forever. Then he slowly started moving in and out of her, loving the way she subconsciously clenched around him every now and then. He took a perked nipple into his mouth, sucked on it gently and was awarded with a long groan from Hermione. She started meeting his thrusts, wanting to feel him deeper inside of her. She needed to feel more of him.
"Harder, Harry," she ground out in between pants, "harder, pleeeease."
Harry happily obliged, pounding into her with as much gusto he could muster this early in the morning, without being too rough with her to make her sore. He kept himself buried deep inside of her, barely pulling out, so that he could feel as much of her for as long as possible. Their eyes locked and as the night before, Harry was transfixed by the intensity of her stare. He quickly shut his eyes, hiding his sudden discomfort from her view by burying his face in her hair, letting out a moan into her neck. Hermione was clenching and unclenching her tight walls around him, and he knew that if she kept on doing this, he would not last long.
"Harry, make me come," Hermione whimpered, her nails digging into his back. "So close, so close, please Harry, please..."
After that, the sounds coming from her mouth were not coherent sentences. It turned to babble which Harry couldn't understand, something he took to mean that she was close. Real close. Giving it one last effort this early morning, he pushed harder, faster, loving every moan of pleasure that she managed to ground out. Suddenly, he felt her tense and as his eyes snapped up to her face, he saw her mouth drop open, as if she were about to scream out her ecstasy. But no sound came. Not until...
"Oh dear Merlin, YEEEES!"
A second later, Harry finally spilled his seed deep within her and a second later he collapsed on top of her, his breathing as heavy as his heart felt. Where the hell were they supposed to go from here?
HP * HP * HP * HP * HP
Hermione couldn't begin to understand why things had changed between her and Harry. She could barely even begin to imagine how things had changed. It wasn't as if the signs were obvious or clear, even to her. When they were together now, even if they were just hanging out (with or without other people), something just felt... off. Since Ron was the only one who knew about the stuff going on between them, Hermione understood that they couldn't show any signs of affection in public. It's not as if she could take offense, since technically they weren't a couple. But no matter if they were alone or with their friends, it was clear to Hermione that Harry was avoiding looking her directly in the eye.
She wondered if he regretted having sex with her, if he now felt uncomfortable around her for some reason that she couldn't understand. Whenever she asked if everything was alright, he answered that he was "fine". This did nothing to reassure Hermione, as she remembered Harry's constant use of the word during their school days when he had in fact been everything except fine.
He didn't mind further educating her in bed though. During sex it seemed as if Harry had no problem looking into her eyes; he even seemed to find more pleasure whenever their gazes connected. But whenever they weren't locked in a tight embrace of passion, Harry seemed distant. If she hadn't known him so well, she probably never would have noticed. And thus, four days after Hermione lost her virginity to Harry, she decided that it was time to confront him in order to get to the bottom of what was troubling him.
"Harry?"
They were in the middle of eating dinner. Ron was with Luna and their parents, going over the last details for the wedding, which was now only a week away.
"Yes?" Harry replied as he stabbed a potato with his fork.
He didn't look up at her, nor did he seem to notice the weird tone of her voice. Hermione looked at him for a moment and when he didn't pause his eating to wonder why she wasn't continuing, she laid down her cutlery and sat back against the backrest, merely watching him. He continued eating for quite some time, seemingly finding the food on his plate extremely fascinating. After two minutes, Harry finally noticed that Hermione was neither talking nor eating. His eyes flicked to hers.
"What?" he asked and the second Hermione shifted and opened her mouth to answer him, he shifted his gaze back to his plate.
Hermione's eyes narrowed; what in Merlin's name was going on?
"Seriously, Harry, what's going on with you?"
"I'm fine, Hermione."
"Ugh! I'm so tired of hearing that you're fine!" Hermione hissed as she shot from her chair, her sudden outburst making Harry jump. "You're not fine, Harry!"
Harry looked up at her, his eyes flashing with an emotion she couldn't quite decipher.
"Who are you to tell me how I feel, huh?"
"For Merlin's sake, Harry! I've know you for the past ten years! There's no one in the entire world that knows you better than I do! And if nothing else, can you please explain to me, if in fact nothing is wrong, why the hell you refuse to look at me?"
As if on cue, Harry's gaze shifted to something behind her, the muscles in his jaw working furiously.
"I look at you," he muttered, sounding quite childish in the process.
Hermione let out a humorless laugh as she started pacing back and forth. Harry fought the urge to meet her penetrating stare, even though that laughed had caused him to shiver involuntary in dread.
"Yes, you're quite right, I'm sorry," Hermione said, the sarcasm dripping from her voice. "I forgot for a moment. However, forgive me for thinking that it's strange and a pity that you only manage to look me in the eye when you're fucking me."
Harry flinched back at her use of such a strong word; she never used words like that.
He had tried so very hard to keep his true feelings away from her. Apparently he hadn't done it well enough. They stared at each other for a moment – while Hermione's eyes conveyed how pissed off she was, Harry's told her that he was panicking. Why, though? she thought.
"Harry, you need to talk to me," she said, her tone suddenly much softer as she gripped the backrest of the chair. "I can tell that something has been wrong, ever since... the night we had sex. Do you... regret it? Have I done something wrong?"
Deep down, she knew that he didn't regret it, since he only seemed remotely normal when they were tumbling around in the sack. She just couldn't understand why he was treating her so differently. Before they had had sex, Harry had been endearing and incredibly sweet whenever they had been alone. Had he suddenly decided that he had gotten what he wanted from her, and wanted out, and just didn't know how to break the news to her?
"No, I don't regret it... I... Hermione, can we not do this?" Harry demanded, suddenly flustered.
"Harry, we have to do this! Or would you simply prefer that we just act as if everything is okay between us? I can tell that things are downright weird and that you're doing something to alienate yourself from me. How can it not bother you?"
Harry threw down his knife and fork on the table and slowly stood from the chair, his palms resting on the table.
"It does bother me, Hermione. I just don't know what to tell you."
His tone was weary, even resigned. For the first time this evening, his eyes were firmly connected with her own and Hermione was slightly frightened by the almost sad look in them.
"How about the truth, Harry? I know something changed that night. Tell me."
Harry let out a deep sigh as he pondered the best way of telling her what was troubling him. Might as well be blunt, he told himself. No matter how he told her, she would end up getting hurt.
"I heard you," he said simply and winced, bowing his head so that he didn't have to see the emotions on her face. "Afterwards. You probably thought I was asleep, 'cause I have a feeling you didn't want me to know."
Hermione felt as if someone just had poured a bucket of ice cold water over her. He was right; her words that night was nothing she wanted him to hear, not yet. She knew he wasn't ready to hear them, knew that he would probably end up acting... Ah. Everything made perfect sense now. She had known from the start that if he found out about her feelings, he would have trouble understanding how to act around her. She had just never thought that he would be so subtle about it.
"Al-alright, so you heard me," Hermione stuttered out, taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart. "Why does it bother you so much?"
"I don't know how to handle it," he answered quickly, as if he had known she would ask that question. "You weren't supposed to fall in love with me, Hermione. I told you I would be faithful to you for as long as we were doing this, but we're not in a relationship. If I'd known you'd fall in love with, I wouldn't have allowed this happen in the first place. It's not..."
"Shut up for a moment, Harry, so that I get a chance to set you straight on one very important detail."
Harry's mouth snapped shut and then he tilted his head as he waited for her to continue.
"I did not fall in love with you because of you're great technique in bed," she started, rolling her eyes has she said it. "I'm not shallow or stupid enough to misplace lust with love, if that's what you think happened. Harry, when I told you I wanted you that night in the library, I didn't just mean sexually. I wanted all of you. How could I not, when I've been in love with you for years?"
Harry flinched violently, his mouth dropping in shock as his eyes bulged. She had been in love with him for years? Oh, bloody hell...
"I didn't know the true extent of my feelings before we started this whole thing," Hermione continued. "I didn't allow myself to feel, because with the way you were living your life, I had to protect my heart. I don't think I really understood until the day after that entire debacle with the horde of women in Diagon Alley... Only then did I allow myself to ponder why it bothered me so much. My brain finally registered what my heart has been trying to tell me for years; that I love you and that I always will."
She took a deep breath as she collected her thoughts and looked at him for a moment. He hadn't even twitched since the truth had come out.
"I told Ron the next morning, and he wasn't even surprised. He said that it had been obvious, since he knew that I would never do anything sexually with a man I didn't love; my previous experiences with other men told him that much."
The mentioning of their friend caused Harry to snap out of his shock and he glared at her.
"Ron knew before I did?" he accused, not sure why this bothered him so much.
"You weren't supposed know at all! I thought you were asleep!"
"And why exactly did you want to keep this from me?" Harry demanded as his body jerked into action and he walked around the table, stopping when they were an arms length apart.
Hermione gave him an incredulous look filled with disbelief.
"You're joking, right?" she wondered, but Harry only raised an eyebrow. "Your behavior the last couple of days is why; I knew you wouldn't be able to handle it. I knew you weren't ready to hear it. And I would have kept it from you for as long as needed, until I thought you would be able to not freak out when I told you."
Fine, he could understand that line of thought well enough. However...
"If you were so keen on me not knowing, why even say out loud at all?"
Hermione shifted and her arms came up to hug herself protectively. She suddenly looked so vulnerable that Harry had to fight the urge to embrace her.
"I had to make it real," she whispered as she bowed her head. "As weird as it may sound, I felt as if I had to acknowledge my feelings, even if it was just to myself. Sex to me is the ultimate sign of love – which is probably why it's never worked with any other man – and saying it out loud... finally made my feelings real. I don't know if you understand at all, Harry, but I couldn't keep it in."
In truth, Harry couldn't understand. He understood lust and passion, but the love between a man and a woman was an unfamiliar concept to him. During the past years he had purposely sought to expel any form of emotions that could lead to him start caring about any of the women he had been with on a deeper level; he was with them for sex, something he had always been very clear about. He should have known it couldn't have been that simple with Hermione, because he had cared about her very deeply from the start; loved her even, although clearly not in the same way as she loved him.
"Where do we go from here, Hermione? You're in love with me," – he winced slightly when he said it, causing Hermione to narrow her eyes at him – "and while I'm sorry that I've been treating you differently, I can't forget... and I don't know how to stop treating you like this, because I feel uncomfortable around you..."
He looked ashamed after his confession, but just like everything else, it had to be said. Hermione had sucked her breath in, feeling shocked for the first time that night, and she staggered. Harry's hands shot out to her arms, keeping her from falling. Hermione wanted to shove him away, but suddenly she felt powerless and extremely tired.
"You're uncomfortable around me... unless we're completely naked in bed and we're doing wonderful things to each other," Hermione whispered, grabbing his arms the same way he was holding hers. "Then you really don't feel anything for me, just like you never felt anything for any of the others. Like them, I'm nothing to you."
"That's not true!" Harry hissed desperately, realizing that if this conversation didn't take an immediate turn right away, they would be over – not just their fling, but maybe even their friendship as well.
Hermione's heart had constricted painfully when the realization had hit her and now she was fighting back the tears that threatened to spill at any moment.
"No, you care for me like a friend," Hermione continued, her voice deprived of emotion. "The same way you care for Ginny, or..."
"Hermione, that's not true! You are the most important person in my life!"
Hermione just looked at him for a moment, wondering what was really going on in his head.
"I'm just not important enough."
Harry opened his mouth to protest and then shut it closed again when he realized what she meant. She thought that he felt that she wasn't important enough for him to want to change; not important enough to end the meaningless life of promiscuity that had been his reality since Voldemort's downfall; not important enough to take the risk with her. And he found that he had no idea how to respond to that.
He noticed the tears that silently started falling down Hermione's cheeks, his heart aching painfully as he felt the hold she had on his arms lessen. She shook his arms off of her and then she took one, two, three steps back from him before she finally turned and left the kitchen. His brain was screaming for him to call her back, but he let her leave. No matter how much it pained him, he let her go.
HP * HP * HP * HP * HP
George was sitting by himself if the apartment above the joke shop in Diagon Alley, mindlessly eating dinner when the silence was filled with a loud CRACK. He whipped around with his wand drawn, almost expecting some kind of enemy. He froze in shock. An enemy had been an unlikely scenario. This was even more unlikely. Why on earth was Hermione Granger standing in the middle of his living room, looking as if the bag on her shoulder contained everything she had ever owned, sobbing uncontrollably as if her best friend had just died?
"Hermione, are you alright?"
Stupid question, of course she wasn't alright.
"Is everyone else alright? Harry, Ron...?"
"Every-y-one is f-fine," the crying witch managed to get out and then she dropped the bag on the floor. "Can I have a h-hug, please?"
George scrambled up to her, his arms swiftly coming around her in a tight embrace. His mind was racing with questions, but for the moment he simply held her, giving her a chance to get everything out before he would try to get her to talk. He had no idea how long they stood there in the living room; he had no sense of time whatsoever, as his entire being was focused on the trembling woman in his arms, wondering and dreading what had happened to her. He loved her like a sister, and he hated seeing her in this state.
Finally, she took a step back. She was no longer crying, but George realized that her new expression scared him even more. It was completely devoid of emotion.
"Are you ready to talk to me now?" George asked softly, as he wiped the remaining tears of her cheeks. "Or would you like a bath and a cup of tea first?"
Hermione gave a half smile.
"Bath and tea would be nice," she whispered in reply.
An hour later, Hermione curled up on the couch, a cup of steaming hot tea in one hand. She looked refreshed, but she still had a haunted look in her eyes. George sat down by her feet and took her free hand in a gentle, but reassuring grip.
"Talk to me, Hermione. You scared the shit out of me when you popped in like that."
Hermione winced and shot him an apologetic glance.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to go to the Burrow..."
George squeezed her hand, effectively shutting her up.
"I didn't object to you coming here, Hermione. You're always welcome here, I've told you that a bunch of times. I'm just worried about you. I don't think I've ever seen you so upset."
And thus, Hermione told him everything. She told him about her disastrous attempts with other men, the bad blood between her and Harry, how she had realized that she fancied him, their fight that had ended up with Hermione slapping him in the face, the incident in the kitchen, how they had put their differences behind them and then started flirting, how they had started their... thing, the incident in Diagon Alley with the women, how she had finally realized that she was in love with him, their romantic evening in the library, her losing her virginity and how sweet Harry had been and finally, the last couple of days that culminated in the fight that had made her come here.
George simply stared at Hermione for quite some while when she was done speaking, trying to sort out all of the information he had just learned in his brain. Hermione was starting to get worried when he finally said;
"Do you want me to go punch him?"
Hermione really had no idea if he was serious or not.
"What?" she croaked out, her eyes widening. "No, I don't want you to go punch him. I was hoping that maybe I could take you up on that job offer and perhaps sleep on your couch until I've found my own place."
George's serious expression suddenly shifted, a huge smile softening his features.
"Of course! I was completely serious when I offered you to come work here; with your potion skills, you'd be a great asset to the shop," he said as pulled her to her feet. "Also, you're great company, so that is a bonus for me."
He winked at her as he said this, causing Hermione to let out a laugh. He dragged her into the kitchen and he pulled out a bottle of liquor and two shot glasses.
"I remember you said tequila was your favorite," he commented as he poured a a light brownish liquid into the glasses. "Ever tried a tequila añejo?"
Hermione simply shook her head and the next moment she was handed a glass.
"It's tequila that's been aged for at least a year," George explained. "This bottle cost me almost forty galleons."
Hermione's eyes bulged as she quickly converted the galleons to pounds – it was strange, but she had struggled with the wizarding money system from the start, so she kept a close watch on the exchange rate so that she could do math in her head whenever she needed to. And unless she was mistaken, she was about to drink from a bottle of tequila that had cost around 2700 pounds.
"George, are you sure you want me to drink this? It's awfully expensive."
George just smiled.
"Starting tomorrow morning, you're an employer of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, an employer that will have full confidence with everything; remind me to show you the bookkeeping and you'll never have to ask me a question like that every again. Besides, we need the good stuff when we are toasting."
Hermione regarded him for a moment and then just nodded once. She held up her glass in salute and then waited for George to say something.
"To Hermione Granger, who has so kindly agreed to come work with me; may the time ahead of us not leave us wanting to kill each other, and may it be prosperous and simply smashing."
Hermione snorted, but clinked her glass together with his and took a sip of the expensive tequila añejo, taking time to analyze the flavor. In essence, it reminded her of tequila, but it was so much more than that. It was smoky and rich, while smooth at the same time. It was very enjoyable.
"Oh, by the way, you're getting the bed, not the couch."
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but George just shook his head.
"It's pointless to argue with me, Hermione. So do us both a favor and don't."
Hermione sighed, but did as he asked. Two hours later she laid in bed, her torso twisted towards the window. The blinds were still up and she could see the moon from where she was. She stared at it without really seeing it, as she was currently thinking about Harry. This separation was probably good for the both of them. She would see him again in a week, at Ron's wedding.
Too bad she already missed him terribly.