Disclaimer: It may be surprising, but I haven't gained ownership to HP since I posted chapter 1, so that disclaimer still stands.
***
Discover Me, Discovering You
Chapter 2
by: Jenny
***
The sunlight pouring through the window hurt Hermione's eyes when she first woke up the following morning, and so she instantly snapped them shut again. The rays of the sun were warm on her face and Hermione would have been content to remain in the warm comforts of her bed had she not realized something.
Her bed didn't face the window, and even if it did it did not catch the rays as the sun rose each morning.
As Hermione regained all coherent thought, she realized that the bed she had slept in was actually not her bed... it couldn't be. The sheets on her bed were blue with pink flowers, and the comforter was navy; the sheets on this bed were plain white, and the comforter was black. Also, Hermione wasn't used to waking up with muscular arms wrapped firmly and protectively around her waist.
Especially arms that obviously belonged to her flatmate and best friend.
Hermione let out a low groan as the memories of the night before came flooding back to her. She remembered everything now: begging Harry to go out on her date with her; the whole mishap with Hannah; Harry getting drunk; Hermione Apparating both of them back to their flat; Harry calling her beautiful; the kiss; and then what had ensued afterwards. Oh, she definitely remembered that.
Despite the huge amount of shock that Hermione had just felt as she remembered that she slept with Harry, she found herself smiling. He'd been so gentle and caring even though he was still in a drunken stupor. Harry, as a resident sex god in wizarding Britain, had surely experienced such a feeling many times before - not that Hermione thought he was a man slut. Hermione had never felt such ecstasy with anyone else before Harry- not that she'd had many lovers prior to Harry. But the moment Harry whispered "I love you" in her ear, Hermione felt right. It was almost as though they were meant to be together.
Just ruminating over the events of last night made Hermione's cheeks heat up in a rosy blush and her already rather large smile spread even larger. But, as Hermione recalled how drunk Harry was, her smile faded. Would he even remember what had happened between them? Would he remember that he and Hannah were over? Or would he think that it was Hannah who was wrapped up in his protective embrace after a passionate night of lovemaking? The thought of that brought tears to Hermione's eyes and a small, choked sob escaped her. Though it wasn't a loud sob, it woke Harry.
The first thing Harry saw when he opened his eyes that morning was a multicolor fog. Once that fog lifted and his vision was cleared somewhat, Harry found himself staring into familiar brown hair, breathing in that familiar coconut scent that was the essence of his best friend. Time seemed to stand still as Harry wondered why she would be in his bed, but couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation due to that blasted headache he had! The sunlight pouring into his eyes did nothing to ease the pain he was feeling at the moment, and he silently cursed.
A meek voice that apparently belonged to the brunette in his arms came, "Harry? Are you awake?"
He thought about not answering her. That thought flitted out of his mainstream thinking the moment she twisted her body around so that she was facing him; the moment Harry caught a glance of her emotion-filled eyes, his heart fluttered. "Yeah, I'm awake," he said softly.
"I can see that." Even though Harry was sure Hermione was only just whispering, a pain like a bullet shot through his skull and reverberated. He winced in pain, and suddenly felt as though he was going to throw up.
Harry watched Hermione clutch the sheets to her, as though she didn't want to expose her obviously quite bare self. She shifted, and as her knee brushed him, Harry's body reacted accordingly. He felt his cheeks warm, but Hermione either didn't notice or chose not to notice. She looked embarrassed as well, anyway.
There was a long, awkward pause between the pair before Harry broke it, wincing, "Hermione, you don't think we-"
Hermione cut him off, "I think that much should be obvious, Harry." She sounded slightly upset but neither her eyes nor the expression on her face gave what she was feeling away.
The silence seemed to echo throughout the room. Harry sat up, carefully situating part of the sheets over his lap. With a shriek as the sensation of cold air against her bare body, Hermione sat up as well, pulling the sheets to cover herself once more.
"Maybe-maybe we didn't," said Harry, sounding a little more than hopeful. The moment he saw the hurt look pass across Hermione's face, he wished he hadn't said that. The hurt was gone almost as quickly as it came and was replaced with a look of anger.
"What? Am I not good enough for you, Harry?" asked Hermione, practically yelling at him. Her face was turning red with the effort, "Accept it, Harry! You slept with me."
Harry's anger flared at Hermione's comment, "I never said you weren't good enough for me, Hermione, but if the shoe fits!" His voice was dangerously soft, and Hermione drew back from him, her eyes almost overfilling with tears. A pain shocked Harry, and this time it wasn't from his hangover. "Hermione, I-I didn't mean to say that... I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry."
But Hermione wouldn't have his apologies; the damage was already done. As the raven-haired man try to take her into his arms, Hermione pulled away, fixing a look of daggers on him. "Don't, Harry," she whispered. "I understand. I'm just Hannah's sloppy seconds, right? If you can't have the blonde beauty queen, why not settle for the next best thing?" She laughed coldly. "It's nice to know that it meant nothing to you, Harry." Hermione stood up and let the sheet drop as she searched for her clothes. She was well aware of Harry's gaze, which was fixated on her nude body, but she pretended not to notice as she pulled on the wrinkled, slightly ripped dress - obviously, they'd been in a hurry to get at it. With one last, sad look in Harry's direction, Hermione walked from the room.
Harry watched her go, unable to stop her. When the door closed behind her, Harry let out a whoosh of air and ran a hand through his tangled, unruly hair. "What have I fucking done now?"
His headache had suddenly worsened.
***
The following week passed with a harsh hostility in the atmosphere at the flat the two shared. There was always an air of tension about them whenever they met, and Hermione and Harry rarely exchanged any words, save for the pleasantries such as, "Good morning" and "Good night". They hadn't usually been able to make time to have a sit-down dinner together, but ocassionally they had; that was before the "incident", however. Now, they tried to avoid one another as much as possible; when Hermione got up in the mornings, Harry had already showered, had a quick breakfast, and left for Quidditch practice. It wasn't exactly the ideal environment. It was quite unpleasant, actually, and Hermione was beginning to miss Harry's company. It was almost as if she lived alone.
One unusually warm Saturday in November, however, Harry had the day free from practice. Hermione, who hadn't heard from Peter Kingsly about the job at A Witch's Life, was in low spirits, especially when the weekly issue was brought to her by her owl, Circe. On the front page of the newspaper was the introduction of the newest addition to the AWL staff; Crystal Glass*, a tall, slender, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, giggly ditz with perfectly manicured nails. She probably doesn't even know how to hold a camera correctly, thought Hermione bitterly, trashing the newspaper without even looking through the rest of it. It was obviously Harry who had cost her the job.
Hermione was pouring herself a cup of the coffee she had just conjured when Harry, clad in black jeans and a royal blue button-up shirt and his hair dripping wet, sauntered in. Not feeling up to giving him The Glare, Hermione muttered, "G'morning, Harry."
If Harry found Hermione's behavior odd, he didn't say anything. He simply responded with a clipped, "Good morning, Hermione," and proceeded to conjure up his own cup of coffee, which Hermione thought looked better than hers. Dejectedly and slightly moody, Hermione poured her coffee down the sink drain. She was sure she saw Harry smirk, but she ignored it and decided to make pleasant conversation.
"Aren't you off to play Quidditch, Harry? Pick up a few innocent women, bring them back to your flat, and proceed to take advantage of them, you know? You seem to thrive on that." So much for pleasant conversation.
Harry's nostrils flared. He did that when he was ultra-angry. Hermione smirked, a feeling of accomplishment coming over her.
"Fuck, Hermione! If you would just tell me what the hell I did wrong instead of skirting around the issue with cheap shots at me, maybe we could fix things!" exclaimed Harry, slamming his cup onto the table with such force that Hermione was sure it was going to shatter.
"There's nothing wrong, Harry," retorted Hermione. "It's not like you would give a damn anyway!" She began to walk from the room, but Harry had grabbed her arm and spun her around to him with such force that she was sure she would be sporting a few new bruises.
"Like hell there's not, Hermione," said Harry. His grip softened, but he didn't let her go. "Ever since that... night, you've not been acting like yourself."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "How would you feel if a woman slept with you and then tossed you out like yesterday's trash, Harry?"
A look of shock passed over Harry's face and he let Hermione's arm go, but she stayed rooted to her spot. "Is that what you think, Hermione?" asked Harry, softly. "No, it wasn't like that... I was just a little overwhelmed that we'd crossed the line of friendship. I mean, I didn't mean to make you think..." His voice trailed off. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to Hermione's forehead. "I'm so sorry."
Hermione closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip and she allowed herself to relax into Harry's strong arms. She breathed in his scent, his heavenly scent. She felt right, as though she belonged in his strong embrace and nowhere else. It was an amazing feeling, one that she'd never felt before.
The moment was interrupted when Hermione suddenly felt a wave of nausea overcome her. She pulled away from Harry abruptly, with wide eyes, and then she promptly took off toward the bathroom. Harry heard the door slam and then the sounds of Hermione being sick as she retched into the toilet bowl.
***
*I borrowed the name Crystal Glass from Elizabeth (drama queen on FF.net). It seemed to fit with the character, and she said I could use it.
Author's Notes: Another chapter is finished. For some reason, DMDY is easier to write than TOYL. I think it's even a bit more fun, really.
I'm aware that this chapter is uber-short... it's not even half the length of chapter 1... but you'll have to forgive me. I've been under a lot of stress the past couple of days, and the accusations of plagiarism haven't done much to lessen that stress. My teachers have piled the homework on me, and I'm in danger of getting a C (the dreaded letter I've never, ever seen on any of my report cards in all of the 11 years I've been in school, kindergarten included) in Spanish 3 if I don't do tons of extra-credit work. I've also been sick for the past few weeks, and I went to the doctor today and got some antibiotics, cough syrup, and an inhaler. I hope that you all will understand... I promise chapter 3 will be much longer, though I'm not entirely sure when it will be out! And, I'm very sorry about the incredible wait between the first and second chapters.
And, I'm working on the first chapter of my very first original! Definitely check that out when I get it finished!
Don't forget to write a review!
*Jenny
To Sweet Immortal, The Only Emily, and God of Fire Fan (your accusations that I plagiarized God of Fire's story are completely unfounded, not to mention ridiculous. It seems to me that none of you took the time to even read my story to check for any other similarities besides the title and the one line in the summary - and I changed both of them, although they were both entirely coincidental similarities.)
To God of Fire (I e-mailed you about the so-called "plagiarism", and I would rather not repeat myself. I'm sorry that you think I copied your story, but as I've never heard of it or read it until 11-12-02, that's not possible. As I said in my e-mail to you, the only similarities were the title and the one line in the summary, and now they've both been changed. My story does not bear any resemblance, however microscopic, to yours.)
A special thanks goes out to Harry and Hermione's Daughter and Paul Veith (thanks to both of you for your support... it means a lot to me! Also thanks a ton for the compliments!)
To Cassie, Adhara, Madelein, orange-bunny, and Serena (thanks so much for the advice regarding Daniel and Becca! I won't see Daniel again until this Saturday - a disadvantage to us being 2 years apart and in different schools - but I think I will tell him how I feel then. As for Becca... well, I'm going to tell her that I like Daniel and that he kissed me on Friday, when the two of us go out to the movies with a bunch of friends. *Crosses fingers and prays that Becca won't kill her* Thanks again!)
I'm just wore out now, guys... so, the rest of you get one great big THANKS, I LOVE YA!
Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews! I've replied to a few reviews, but I'm too tired to reply to everyone individually. Sorry!
There's a language warning for this chapter... I don't think it's enough to boost the rating up from PG13 to R, so I'm not going to. It's just two little uses of the 'f' word. And while writing this chapter, I've come to a shocking conclusion: I, Jenny, have a potty mouth!
Hmm... one more thing before I begin: I think my Beta has disappeared off the face of the earth, and so this hasn't been checked for errors, not even by Becca. If anyone is interested in becoming my new Beta reader, then e-mail me at nnyl_ynnej@yahoo.com.
Oh yeah. I hope this chapter isn't too soap-opera-ish!
Chapter 2
by: Jenny
The sunlight pouring through the window hurt Hermione's eyes when she first woke up the following morning, and so she instantly snapped them shut again. The rays of the sun were warm on her face and Hermione would have been content to remain in the warm comforts of her bed had she not realized something.
Her bed didn't face the window, and even if it did it did not catch the rays as the sun rose each morning.
As Hermione regained all coherent thought, she realized that the bed she had slept in was actually not her bed... it couldn't be. The sheets on her bed were blue with pink flowers, and the comforter was navy; the sheets on this bed were plain white, and the comforter was black. Also, Hermione wasn't used to waking up with muscular arms wrapped firmly and protectively around her waist.
Especially arms that obviously belonged to her flatmate and best friend.
Hermione let out a low groan as the memories of the night before came flooding back to her. She remembered everything now: begging Harry to go out on her date with her; the whole mishap with Hannah; Harry getting drunk; Hermione Apparating both of them back to their flat; Harry calling her beautiful; the kiss; and then what had ensued afterwards. Oh, she definitely remembered that.
Despite the huge amount of shock that Hermione had just felt as she remembered that she slept with Harry, she found herself smiling. He'd been so gentle and caring even though he was still in a drunken stupor. Harry, as a resident sex god in wizarding Britain, had surely experienced such a feeling many times before - not that Hermione thought he was a man slut. Hermione had never felt such ecstasy with anyone else before Harry- not that she'd had many lovers prior to Harry. But the moment Harry whispered "I love you" in her ear, Hermione felt right. It was almost as though they were meant to be together.
Just ruminating over the events of last night made Hermione's cheeks heat up in a rosy blush and her already rather large smile spread even larger. But, as Hermione recalled how drunk Harry was, her smile faded. Would he even remember what had happened between them? Would he remember that he and Hannah were over? Or would he think that it was Hannah who was wrapped up in his protective embrace after a passionate night of lovemaking? The thought of that brought tears to Hermione's eyes and a small, choked sob escaped her. Though it wasn't a loud sob, it woke Harry.
The first thing Harry saw when he opened his eyes that morning was a multicolor fog. Once that fog lifted and his vision was cleared somewhat, Harry found himself staring into familiar brown hair, breathing in that familiar coconut scent that was the essence of his best friend. Time seemed to stand still as Harry wondered why she would be in his bed, but couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation due to that blasted headache he had! The sunlight pouring into his eyes did nothing to ease the pain he was feeling at the moment, and he silently cursed.
A meek voice that apparently belonged to the brunette in his arms came, "Harry? Are you awake?"
He thought about not answering her. That thought flitted out of his mainstream thinking the moment she twisted her body around so that she was facing him; the moment Harry caught a glance of her emotion-filled eyes, his heart fluttered. "Yeah, I'm awake," he said softly.
"I can see that." Even though Harry was sure Hermione was only just whispering, a pain like a bullet shot through his skull and reverberated. He winced in pain, and suddenly felt as though he was going to throw up.
Harry watched Hermione clutch the sheets to her, as though she didn't want to expose her obviously quite bare self. She shifted, and as her knee brushed him, Harry's body reacted accordingly. He felt his cheeks warm, but Hermione either didn't notice or chose not to notice. She looked embarrassed as well, anyway.
There was a long, awkward pause between the pair before Harry broke it, wincing, "Hermione, you don't think we-"
Hermione cut him off, "I think that much should be obvious, Harry." She sounded slightly upset but neither her eyes nor the expression on her face gave what she was feeling away.
The silence seemed to echo throughout the room. Harry sat up, carefully situating part of the sheets over his lap. With a shriek as the sensation of cold air against her bare body, Hermione sat up as well, pulling the sheets to cover herself once more.
"Maybe-maybe we didn't," said Harry, sounding a little more than hopeful. The moment he saw the hurt look pass across Hermione's face, he wished he hadn't said that. The hurt was gone almost as quickly as it came and was replaced with a look of anger.
"What? Am I not good enough for you, Harry?" asked Hermione, practically yelling at him. Her face was turning red with the effort, "Accept it, Harry! You slept with me."
Harry's anger flared at Hermione's comment, "I never said you weren't good enough for me, Hermione, but if the shoe fits!" His voice was dangerously soft, and Hermione drew back from him, her eyes almost overfilling with tears. A pain shocked Harry, and this time it wasn't from his hangover. "Hermione, I-I didn't mean to say that... I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry."
But Hermione wouldn't have his apologies; the damage was already done. As the raven-haired man try to take her into his arms, Hermione pulled away, fixing a look of daggers on him. "Don't, Harry," she whispered. "I understand. I'm just Hannah's sloppy seconds, right? If you can't have the blonde beauty queen, why not settle for the next best thing?" She laughed coldly. "It's nice to know that it meant nothing to you, Harry." Hermione stood up and let the sheet drop as she searched for her clothes. She was well aware of Harry's gaze, which was fixated on her nude body, but she pretended not to notice as she pulled on the wrinkled, slightly ripped dress - obviously, they'd been in a hurry to get at it. With one last, sad look in Harry's direction, Hermione walked from the room.
Harry watched her go, unable to stop her. When the door closed behind her, Harry let out a whoosh of air and ran a hand through his tangled, unruly hair. "What have I fucking done now?"
His headache had suddenly worsened.
The following week passed with a harsh hostility in the atmosphere at the flat the two shared. There was always an air of tension about them whenever they met, and Hermione and Harry rarely exchanged any words, save for the pleasantries such as, "Good morning" and "Good night". They hadn't usually been able to make time to have a sit-down dinner together, but ocassionally they had; that was before the "incident", however. Now, they tried to avoid one another as much as possible; when Hermione got up in the mornings, Harry had already showered, had a quick breakfast, and left for Quidditch practice. It wasn't exactly the ideal environment. It was quite unpleasant, actually, and Hermione was beginning to miss Harry's company. It was almost as if she lived alone.
One unusually warm Saturday in November, however, Harry had the day free from practice. Hermione, who hadn't heard from Peter Kingsly about the job at A Witch's Life, was in low spirits, especially when the weekly issue was brought to her by her owl, Circe. On the front page of the newspaper was the introduction of the newest addition to the AWL staff; Crystal Glass*, a tall, slender, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, giggly ditz with perfectly manicured nails. She probably doesn't even know how to hold a camera correctly, thought Hermione bitterly, trashing the newspaper without even looking through the rest of it. It was obviously Harry who had cost her the job.
Hermione was pouring herself a cup of the coffee she had just conjured when Harry, clad in black jeans and a royal blue button-up shirt and his hair dripping wet, sauntered in. Not feeling up to giving him The Glare, Hermione muttered, "G'morning, Harry."
If Harry found Hermione's behavior odd, he didn't say anything. He simply responded with a clipped, "Good morning, Hermione," and proceeded to conjure up his own cup of coffee, which Hermione thought looked better than hers. Dejectedly and slightly moody, Hermione poured her coffee down the sink drain. She was sure she saw Harry smirk, but she ignored it and decided to make pleasant conversation.
"Aren't you off to play Quidditch, Harry? Pick up a few innocent women, bring them back to your flat, and proceed to take advantage of them, you know? You seem to thrive on that." So much for pleasant conversation.
Harry's nostrils flared. He did that when he was ultra-angry. Hermione smirked, a feeling of accomplishment coming over her.
"Fuck, Hermione! If you would just tell me what the hell I did wrong instead of skirting around the issue with cheap shots at me, maybe we could fix things!" exclaimed Harry, slamming his cup onto the table with such force that Hermione was sure it was going to shatter.
"There's nothing wrong, Harry," retorted Hermione. "It's not like you would give a damn anyway!" She began to walk from the room, but Harry had grabbed her arm and spun her around to him with such force that she was sure she would be sporting a few new bruises.
"Like hell there's not, Hermione," said Harry. His grip softened, but he didn't let her go. "Ever since that... night, you've not been acting like yourself."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "How would you feel if a woman slept with you and then tossed you out like yesterday's trash, Harry?"
A look of shock passed over Harry's face and he let Hermione's arm go, but she stayed rooted to her spot. "Is that what you think, Hermione?" asked Harry, softly. "No, it wasn't like that... I was just a little overwhelmed that we'd crossed the line of friendship. I mean, I didn't mean to make you think..." His voice trailed off. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to Hermione's forehead. "I'm so sorry."
Hermione closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip and she allowed herself to relax into Harry's strong arms. She breathed in his scent, his heavenly scent. She felt right, as though she belonged in his strong embrace and nowhere else. It was an amazing feeling, one that she'd never felt before.
The moment was interrupted when Hermione suddenly felt a wave of nausea overcome her. She pulled away from Harry abruptly, with wide eyes, and then she promptly took off toward the bathroom. Harry heard the door slam and then the sounds of Hermione being sick as she retched into the toilet bowl.
*I borrowed the name Crystal Glass from Elizabeth (drama queen on FF.net). It seemed to fit with the character, and she said I could use it.
Author's Notes: Another chapter is finished. For some reason, DMDY is easier to write than TOYL. I think it's even a bit more fun, really.
I'm aware that this chapter is uber-short... it's not even half the length of chapter 1... but you'll have to forgive me. I've been under a lot of stress the past couple of days, and the accusations of plagiarism haven't done much to lessen that stress. My teachers have piled the homework on me, and I'm in danger of getting a C (the dreaded letter I've never, ever seen on any of my report cards in all of the 11 years I've been in school, kindergarten included) in Spanish 3 if I don't do tons of extra-credit work. I've also been sick for the past few weeks, and I went to the doctor today and got some antibiotics, cough syrup, and an inhaler. I hope that you all will understand... I promise chapter 3 will be much longer, though I'm not entirely sure when it will be out! And, I'm very sorry about the incredible wait between the first and second chapters.
And, I'm working on the first chapter of my very first original! Definitely check that out when I get it finished!
Don't forget to write a review!
*Jenny
To Sweet Immortal, The Only Emily, and God of Fire Fan (your accusations that I plagiarized God of Fire's story are completely unfounded, not to mention ridiculous. It seems to me that none of you took the time to even read my story to check for any other similarities besides the title and the one line in the summary - and I changed both of them, although they were both entirely coincidental similarities.)
To God of Fire (I e-mailed you about the so-called "plagiarism", and I would rather not repeat myself. I'm sorry that you think I copied your story, but as I've never heard of it or read it until 11-12-02, that's not possible. As I said in my e-mail to you, the only similarities were the title and the one line in the summary, and now they've both been changed. My story does not bear any resemblance, however microscopic, to yours.)
A special thanks goes out to Harry and Hermione's Daughter and Paul Veith (thanks to both of you for your support... it means a lot to me! Also thanks a ton for the compliments!)
To Cassie, Adhara, Madelein, orange-bunny, and Serena (thanks so much for the advice regarding Daniel and Becca! I won't see Daniel again until this Saturday - a disadvantage to us being 2 years apart and in different schools - but I think I will tell him how I feel then. As for Becca... well, I'm going to tell her that I like Daniel and that he kissed me on Friday, when the two of us go out to the movies with a bunch of friends. *Crosses fingers and prays that Becca won't kill her* Thanks again!)
I'm just wore out now, guys... so, the rest of you get one great big THANKS, I LOVE YA!