A/N: Hello friends! I'm so so so so very sorry it has been so long. It's been... a very hard couple of months and I just haven't had the motivation. I promise I still plan on continuing this story! I love this story and I am very proud of many parts of it. If you're still here, thank you so much for sticking with me all this way. Enjoy this chapter!
Harry woke in bliss.
Hermione was cupped naked in his arms, her brown curls spilling over over onto his chest. It was happiness unlike anything he had ever known. His chest filled like a balloon, and he decided quite suddenly that he would stay in this bed with her forever.
Hermione shifted in his arms, her soft skin making his tingle when they touched.
Harry sighed contentedly. He closed his eyes and pulled her body closer to his. But just as he floated back into sleep, he felt Hermione stretch and turn over towards him.
"Harry," She said softly. Then, again, louder. "Harry."
"Mm," Harry groaned, his eyes still closed.
"I know you're awake," Hermione said. Harry could just imagine her eyebrows rising. Reluctantly, he fluttered his eyes open.
"Okay, okay, I'm up," He took her in, as her honey eyes gazed at him. She was wildly beautiful like this, her eyes shining at him, her hair a complete mess, her body perfectly curved against his. He felt like punching himself that he hadn't seen her beauty before.
"-which is why we should talk," She finished, looked at him expectantly.
"Sorry?" Harry rubbed his left eye and propped himself up on one arm. "Talk? Now?"
Hermione rolled her eyes at this. "Weren't you listening?"
"No," Harry admitted. "I was a little..." he gestured to her. "Er, distracted." She blushed furiously, and he found himself overwhelmed, lost in her. "You're beautiful," he breathed.
There was a sharp intake of breath on Hermione's end. "Harry..." she began. But she stopped, because Harry's hands had slipped under the sheets, between her thighs. As his fingers found her, Hermione let out a tiny noise, her hands curling into fists against his chest.
Harry found himself grinning. "No," he said, in mock shock. "You're speechless? That's what? Twice, in just a few days?"
Hermione scooted herself away from his eager hands, and he immediately missed with warmth of her body. "We need to talk, Harry," she repeated seriously. "We need to talk before this goes any further."
"Mmm," Harry nodded seriously. "Further." He raised one eyebrow expectantly.
"Hey, I'm serious!" Hermione retorted. "It's important that we–"
A loud noise reverated through the house. Harry and Hermione both lept forward to the edge of the bed, with Hermione holding the covers up to her vunerable chest.
"What was that?" Hermione asked, her brown eyes wide with worry.
Harry felt his stomach clench. He very well knew how it would look for them to be found like this. Especially if it were by–
"Hullo! Harry! It's me, Ron..."
Both Hermione and Harry let out a long string of curses as they launched themselves out of bed. In another situation, it might have been comical how the tangled covers around their legs spun them into each other's arms.
Maybe.
But now, they were frantic, shoving at each other, pulling on discarded pants and socks and shirts.
"Harry..." Hermione whispered, her eyes frantic.
Understanding her fears immediately, Harry pressed his lips against hers. She rose on her toes to meet him, but they broke apart quickly.
"Just... just stay here," Harry told him, placing his hands on her shoulders. "I'll... I'll fix this."
Pull his belt from the bedpost, Harry raced out the door while Hermione stood helplessly behind him.
He wrapped his belt around his loose jeans while he bounded down the stairs.
There was another pound on the door. "Harry! Harry, are you there?"
"Er, coming, Ron!" He yelled right before he reached the landing to the second floor. Rounding the corner, Harry tripped over his jean leg and nearly tumbled to the bottom of the stairs.
His hand finally on the door, Harry took a long, deep breath before turning the knob. I wish Hermione were here, he thought briefly, longingly, as he pulled open the door.
"Harry," Ron said in relief, letting out a long breath. "Thank Merlin. Do you know where Hermione is?"
Harry's breath hitched in his throat. "Her–hermione?" He asked dumbly.
"Yeah, my girlfriend, Hermione?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "Did you just wake up? You're a mess, mate." He took Harry in for a moment. "By the way, where'd you get that shirt?"
Harry looked down blankly. "Oh, great–" he muttered, his cheeks growing red. In his rush, he had put on Hermione's baby blue tank top. "Er... yeah, I just got up, and this is the first thing I grabbed, I guess." He was surprised at how easily the lie rolled off of his tongue. Maybe it was the way that Ron called Hermione his girlfriend, like she was his, that made Harry lie so quickly to his best mate.
"But no, I don't know where she is," Harry lied again.
"That's weird," Ron said, seeming to believe him, to his relief. "She said she was coming over here to... talk to you."
"Talk to me." Harry deadpanned.
"Er..." Ron shuffled his feet. "She said you guys fought about something." He blinked a few times, then looked at Harry. "What... what happened between you guys?"
Harry thought of Hermione, upstairs in her room. He thought about kissing her like nothing else mattered. He thought about pulling off her shirt, about her chewing gently on his earlobe, about sleeping with her curled up next to him, her head on his chest. He thought about how he felt about her. "Nothing happened, Ron."
"Actually, Ron," Hermione said from behind them, swaying in the stairway. "That's not... entirely true."