"H-H-Hermione?"
Hermione groaned. "Go away, Jenny, it's Saturday. Can't I just sleep?"
"It's Albus, Hermione."
"Albus!" Hermione screeched as her eyes shot open. Her sheets were barely covering her upper body, which was a concern due to the extremely low cut neckline on her white nightgown. She grabbed as much sheeting as she possibly could to cover herself, while rubbing her eyes furiously.
"I'm so terribly sorry! I wouldn't have come up if the house elf Jenny hadn't sent me! She showed me the passageway through the Entrance Hall, and told me to check on you. She said she would have done it herself, if she wasn't so very busy in the kitchen. I assumed you would be awake, it is 1:30 after all and. . ."
"It's quite alright Albus," she said, cutting him off. "I appreciate you waking me up. Don't worry so, I'm glad to see you." Hermione smiled, even though her insides were screaming at the tops of their lungs. Dear God, she must look like something the cat hacked up. "If you'll just excuse me for a moment," she added, abruptly, as she ripped off the bed covers and skidded into the bathroom.
"Of course," Dumbledore replied, barely above a whisper.
Hermione wrenched open the door and quickly clicked it shut behind her. A mirror promptly greeted her as she entered the room. She walked towards it, slowly; almost afraid of what would be staring back at her. However, to her great relief, she didn't look half bad. Her hair may be slightly disheveled, and her dress may be a bit too revealing, but other than that. . .
After a few short minutes of some of her favorite cleaning and tidying spells, she threw on her spare dress, which, luckily, she had placed on the counter top next to the sink the night before. Her head was still a bit foggy, and her mind was spinning. She was about to open the door to greet him when, as an afterthought, she performed the following spell on herself: "gout de citron." Now, for the next few hours, her mouth will taste and smell of lemons. *Why on earth did you use that spell? Do you really think it'll come in handy?* she asked herself, as she opened the door.
Dumbledore was found sitting on the bed, his shoulders hunched over and his head dangling like a dead weight.
"Sorry if I kept you waiting," Hermione said, walking towards him.
"Not at all," he replied, as he slowly lifted his head. It looked as though it took him a great amount of effort to do so. "I'd just like to apologize once again, I really didn't mean to intrude-"
At that moment, something in Hermione's brain clicked. Whatever Dumbledore was saying, she wasn't hearing it. It was all white noise. She found herself walking towards the bed, and sitting down next to him. Her mind was no longer in control. There was only a dull understanding inside of her, telling her that what she was doing was right. That teasing, flirting and even- dare she think it- kissing him was perfectly fine. There was a brief pause when she couldn't help but ask herself the following question: was this blind craving for Dumbledore's lips simply a strong hormonal urge that she couldn't fight; that was forcing her to go against many of the moral fibers which she held deep inside of her? A sudden lack of ethical objection washed over her, as her mind boldly shouted, *oh, who the fuck cares?*
Letting go of her inner torment, she closed her eyes, and delicately pressed her full, red lips against his soft, warm ones.
Dumbledore immediately hushed up. His muscles tensed. His neck straightened. When Hermione's lips parted, she began to feel a bit nervous. Had she acted too quickly? Would he accept what she had just done?
He took in a long, rasping breath, before whispering, "You're very lovely, Hermione."
Hermione smiled. That was just the kind of response she had hoped for. "And you're very handsome, Albus," she whispered back, as she rested her head against his shoulder. There was a moment of somewhat awkward silence. Hermione noticed that Dumbledore couldn't quite manage to keep his breathing regular, so she decided to break the silence. "So, did you have any plans for today? I'd love to see what you do to entertain yourself on the weekends."
Dumbledore sat up. A mischievous smile had suddenly spread across his face, as he made his way towards his brown leather bag, which sat in the far corner of the room. He unbuckled the two clasps, and flipped back the weighted leather flap. What met Hermione's eyes sent her mind reeling back to the Hogwarts she knew and loved, with Harry, Ron and the others. An array of heart-felt excursions such as hidden trips to Hagrid's hut, or heroic quests to save one creature or another, came racing through her mind like a flipping picture book. Tears were beginning to flood her vision, as Albus Dumbledore's invisibility cloak spilled across the bedroom floor.
"Hermione, do you know what this is?" he asked.
"Yes, it's an invisibility cloak. I. . . know a boy at my school who owns one."
"Every other weekend or so, I like to sneak out of the castle with a few of my friends to Hogsmeade- it's been like a tradition since our third year. There's a secret passage, through a statue of a one-eyed witch, which is unknown to any prefect or professor. If you want, we could go and. . ." he trailed off, apparently unsure of what to say next. Hermione started feeling quite excited. This was just the kind of thing she had been craving, an adventure. Her life had always been filled with events like these when she was around Harry; a little rule breaking was just what she needed to feel right at home.
"It sounds absolutely wonderful," she said, now walking towards the cloak.
"Really? You're not afraid of getting caught?"
"Please, we could get caught doing worse things than this," she replied as she picked up the cloak, and slipped it over the two of them. The cloak was a bit smaller than Harry's, so the two had to squish together to stay hidden.
"Why are we putting the cloak on now?" Dumbledore asked.
"So that I have an excuse to walk this close to you through the halls," Hermione giggled.
Dumbledore's eyes widened, and his cheeks blushed. "Oh," he replied, sheepishly.
"Alloggiamenti dell'ospite," Hermione whispered as she pointed her wand towards the portrait of the flower vase.
The two made their way through the passage (with Dumbledore giggling all the while, finding it quite amusing that Hermione insisted on staying invisible) and into the Entrance Hall.
"We have to get up to the third floor corridor, that's where the statue is," Dumbledore said, pointing towards the staircase.
The rest of the trip was in silence. Students and teachers were everywhere to be seen, milling around through the halls.
"Isn't that it?" Hermione asked, spotting the statue halfway down the hallway.
Dumbledore nodded, while pulling his wand out of his robe pocket. "Dissendium," he whispered, tapping the stone witch on her hump. Promptly, the hump opened. "Just follow me," he said, as he made his way to hoist himself up.
Hermione reached out after him, and took hold of his shoulders. "We'll never be able to stay under the cloak together, let's just take it off and dive through the opening as quickly as possible."
"That sounds like a challenge to me. . ."
"Albus!"
Dumbledore, who was too quick for Hermione, reached down, grabbed her by the thighs, and hoisted her onto his back.
"Now wait, Albus, be reasonable, can we really fit like this. . ."
"We'll just have to see!" he exclaimed, as he started a mad dash towards the opening. Dumbledore used every ounce of leg strength he possessed to push the two of them up off the ground, just high enough so that they tumbled forwards, and cleared the entrance.
"ALBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!" Hermione screamed. They were now careening down a rather steep stone slide.
"I can't believe I cleared it!" he yelled, grabbing Hermione and holding her close to him.
A look of sheer panic appeared on her face. "You mean you had doubts!" she shrieked.
Suddenly, the joy ride ended. Both flew off of the slide, and landed on the cool, damp earth.
"Ow," Dumbledore mumbled. His face was being crushed by Hermione's stomach. Hermione leapt up.
"I'm so sorry Albus, are you alright?" she asked.
"Ya, ya I'm fine!" he assured her, giving her a dopey grin. "That was some ride, wasn't it? Fantastic!"
Hermione laughed, and reached down to give him a hand. "So where does this tunnel lead to?"
Dumbledore dusted himself off, before responding, "Ah, that would be to the cellar of Honeydukes, one of the greatest sweet shops imaginable!"
Hermione restrained herself from commenting on Honeydukes' age. Instead she nodded, put on her eager face, and got going.
The passage was crooked and twisted, and the ground was rough and uneven, with roots and weeds sticking out in the oddest of places. Had it not been for the light emitting from Dumbledore's wand, the two wouldn't have known up from down. The air was thick, wet, and chilling. Hermione was shivering uncontrollably, until Dumbledore wrapped her in the excess material of his outer cloak. The rest of their journey was spent huddled together, through the rough and unstable dirt tunnel. Hermione clutched the front of his robes, in an attempt to pull herself closer to his body heat. They parted only to march up the much-awaited staircase, which led to Honeydukes' cellar.
Hermione groaned. "Go away, Jenny, it's Saturday. Can't I just sleep?"
"It's Albus, Hermione."
"Albus!" Hermione screeched as her eyes shot open. Her sheets were barely covering her upper body, which was a concern due to the extremely low cut neckline on her white nightgown. She grabbed as much sheeting as she possibly could to cover herself, while rubbing her eyes furiously.
"I'm so terribly sorry! I wouldn't have come up if the house elf Jenny hadn't sent me! She showed me the passageway through the Entrance Hall, and told me to check on you. She said she would have done it herself, if she wasn't so very busy in the kitchen. I assumed you would be awake, it is 1:30 after all and. . ."
"It's quite alright Albus," she said, cutting him off. "I appreciate you waking me up. Don't worry so, I'm glad to see you." Hermione smiled, even though her insides were screaming at the tops of their lungs. Dear God, she must look like something the cat hacked up. "If you'll just excuse me for a moment," she added, abruptly, as she ripped off the bed covers and skidded into the bathroom.
"Of course," Dumbledore replied, barely above a whisper.
Hermione wrenched open the door and quickly clicked it shut behind her. A mirror promptly greeted her as she entered the room. She walked towards it, slowly; almost afraid of what would be staring back at her. However, to her great relief, she didn't look half bad. Her hair may be slightly disheveled, and her dress may be a bit too revealing, but other than that. . .
After a few short minutes of some of her favorite cleaning and tidying spells, she threw on her spare dress, which, luckily, she had placed on the counter top next to the sink the night before. Her head was still a bit foggy, and her mind was spinning. She was about to open the door to greet him when, as an afterthought, she performed the following spell on herself: "gout de citron." Now, for the next few hours, her mouth will taste and smell of lemons. *Why on earth did you use that spell? Do you really think it'll come in handy?* she asked herself, as she opened the door.
Dumbledore was found sitting on the bed, his shoulders hunched over and his head dangling like a dead weight.
"Sorry if I kept you waiting," Hermione said, walking towards him.
"Not at all," he replied, as he slowly lifted his head. It looked as though it took him a great amount of effort to do so. "I'd just like to apologize once again, I really didn't mean to intrude-"
At that moment, something in Hermione's brain clicked. Whatever Dumbledore was saying, she wasn't hearing it. It was all white noise. She found herself walking towards the bed, and sitting down next to him. Her mind was no longer in control. There was only a dull understanding inside of her, telling her that what she was doing was right. That teasing, flirting and even- dare she think it- kissing him was perfectly fine. There was a brief pause when she couldn't help but ask herself the following question: was this blind craving for Dumbledore's lips simply a strong hormonal urge that she couldn't fight; that was forcing her to go against many of the moral fibers which she held deep inside of her? A sudden lack of ethical objection washed over her, as her mind boldly shouted, *oh, who the fuck cares?*
Letting go of her inner torment, she closed her eyes, and delicately pressed her full, red lips against his soft, warm ones.
Dumbledore immediately hushed up. His muscles tensed. His neck straightened. When Hermione's lips parted, she began to feel a bit nervous. Had she acted too quickly? Would he accept what she had just done?
He took in a long, rasping breath, before whispering, "You're very lovely, Hermione."
Hermione smiled. That was just the kind of response she had hoped for. "And you're very handsome, Albus," she whispered back, as she rested her head against his shoulder. There was a moment of somewhat awkward silence. Hermione noticed that Dumbledore couldn't quite manage to keep his breathing regular, so she decided to break the silence. "So, did you have any plans for today? I'd love to see what you do to entertain yourself on the weekends."
Dumbledore sat up. A mischievous smile had suddenly spread across his face, as he made his way towards his brown leather bag, which sat in the far corner of the room. He unbuckled the two clasps, and flipped back the weighted leather flap. What met Hermione's eyes sent her mind reeling back to the Hogwarts she knew and loved, with Harry, Ron and the others. An array of heart-felt excursions such as hidden trips to Hagrid's hut, or heroic quests to save one creature or another, came racing through her mind like a flipping picture book. Tears were beginning to flood her vision, as Albus Dumbledore's invisibility cloak spilled across the bedroom floor.
"Hermione, do you know what this is?" he asked.
"Yes, it's an invisibility cloak. I. . . know a boy at my school who owns one."
"Every other weekend or so, I like to sneak out of the castle with a few of my friends to Hogsmeade- it's been like a tradition since our third year. There's a secret passage, through a statue of a one-eyed witch, which is unknown to any prefect or professor. If you want, we could go and. . ." he trailed off, apparently unsure of what to say next. Hermione started feeling quite excited. This was just the kind of thing she had been craving, an adventure. Her life had always been filled with events like these when she was around Harry; a little rule breaking was just what she needed to feel right at home.
"It sounds absolutely wonderful," she said, now walking towards the cloak.
"Really? You're not afraid of getting caught?"
"Please, we could get caught doing worse things than this," she replied as she picked up the cloak, and slipped it over the two of them. The cloak was a bit smaller than Harry's, so the two had to squish together to stay hidden.
"Why are we putting the cloak on now?" Dumbledore asked.
"So that I have an excuse to walk this close to you through the halls," Hermione giggled.
Dumbledore's eyes widened, and his cheeks blushed. "Oh," he replied, sheepishly.
"Alloggiamenti dell'ospite," Hermione whispered as she pointed her wand towards the portrait of the flower vase.
The two made their way through the passage (with Dumbledore giggling all the while, finding it quite amusing that Hermione insisted on staying invisible) and into the Entrance Hall.
"We have to get up to the third floor corridor, that's where the statue is," Dumbledore said, pointing towards the staircase.
The rest of the trip was in silence. Students and teachers were everywhere to be seen, milling around through the halls.
"Isn't that it?" Hermione asked, spotting the statue halfway down the hallway.
Dumbledore nodded, while pulling his wand out of his robe pocket. "Dissendium," he whispered, tapping the stone witch on her hump. Promptly, the hump opened. "Just follow me," he said, as he made his way to hoist himself up.
Hermione reached out after him, and took hold of his shoulders. "We'll never be able to stay under the cloak together, let's just take it off and dive through the opening as quickly as possible."
"That sounds like a challenge to me. . ."
"Albus!"
Dumbledore, who was too quick for Hermione, reached down, grabbed her by the thighs, and hoisted her onto his back.
"Now wait, Albus, be reasonable, can we really fit like this. . ."
"We'll just have to see!" he exclaimed, as he started a mad dash towards the opening. Dumbledore used every ounce of leg strength he possessed to push the two of them up off the ground, just high enough so that they tumbled forwards, and cleared the entrance.
"ALBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!" Hermione screamed. They were now careening down a rather steep stone slide.
"I can't believe I cleared it!" he yelled, grabbing Hermione and holding her close to him.
A look of sheer panic appeared on her face. "You mean you had doubts!" she shrieked.
Suddenly, the joy ride ended. Both flew off of the slide, and landed on the cool, damp earth.
"Ow," Dumbledore mumbled. His face was being crushed by Hermione's stomach. Hermione leapt up.
"I'm so sorry Albus, are you alright?" she asked.
"Ya, ya I'm fine!" he assured her, giving her a dopey grin. "That was some ride, wasn't it? Fantastic!"
Hermione laughed, and reached down to give him a hand. "So where does this tunnel lead to?"
Dumbledore dusted himself off, before responding, "Ah, that would be to the cellar of Honeydukes, one of the greatest sweet shops imaginable!"
Hermione restrained herself from commenting on Honeydukes' age. Instead she nodded, put on her eager face, and got going.
The passage was crooked and twisted, and the ground was rough and uneven, with roots and weeds sticking out in the oddest of places. Had it not been for the light emitting from Dumbledore's wand, the two wouldn't have known up from down. The air was thick, wet, and chilling. Hermione was shivering uncontrollably, until Dumbledore wrapped her in the excess material of his outer cloak. The rest of their journey was spent huddled together, through the rough and unstable dirt tunnel. Hermione clutched the front of his robes, in an attempt to pull herself closer to his body heat. They parted only to march up the much-awaited staircase, which led to Honeydukes' cellar.