A/N: You fatten my heart with all your reviews. I'm loving each and every
one of them and they make me smile after a hard day. Let me just give out
some shout-outs to several reviewers who have caught my eye...
thefly: You've been reviewing since chapter 1 and I totally appreciate your comments. Thanks so much.
Annison Crane: I'm not telling you if it's going to be David and Hermione *or* Harry and Hermione - you'll just have to wait and see. I liked it when you said you'll end up as a "sobbing puddle on the floor." It touched me. ( I hope you like my next chapters as much as you did in the previous ones. I hope to hear from you soon.
Shellz: Wasn't the song beautiful? Didn't it make you tear up even the tiniest bit? ( I'm glad you listened to it. It just carried the Harry's thoughts across.
Nighttime Sunshine: Yes, I intend to make you (and everyone else cry). And not only that, I also plan on making your hearts wrench a little as I go along. Thank you for saying that I'm doing a good job on this. It means a lot.
There you go. On with the story...
DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter characters.
CHAPTER 8:
Harry couldn't sleep. He and Ron had went home an hour and a half ago, the minute David and Hermione returned from their dancing. It was all too much for him, seeing them move together in perfect synchronicity, as if they were made for each other.
Harry wanted *her* to be made for him.
*How would you guys like to go to a dance club?* David had asked, once they had returned from the dance floor. *I know this really great place near here...*
Harry was quick to decline, shooting Ron a "Let's-go-home" look. He hadn't looked at Hermione at all, even when they bade farewell - and it bothered him. They had taken Elizabeth back to Sirius' place before they went home. Ron hadn't said much during their whole trip, not that they could talk about a lot of things while Apparating, but he kept his polite distance from Harry.
He knew his best friend was hurting and was trying to hide it. What confused him was Hermione. How could she agree to making the two of them the best men at her wedding? Did she think it would put everything right if she had offered them (or Harry, especially) one of the most coveted spots in a wedding ceremony?
Ron scratched the back of his head and sighed. He didn't really believe that Hermione would have come up with this all by herself. She wasn't over Harry yet, he could tell as much. He always thought that David only provided her with a slight distraction before she admits her real feelings to the man she *truly* loves. Unfortunately, Harry didn't think in the same lines as he did.
/It's only 11,/ Harry thought dismally, craning his neck from the pillow to glance at the clock. /They're probably still out. David looks like he's got a lot of spring in his steps./ He set his head back down and willed himself to go to sleep - but he couldn't. The song kept on resonating in his head and he couldn't help but stray into the memories that had forced their way into his mind tonight.
He lifted his head up again and glanced at the clock, which now read 11:02. Damn. He was getting nowhere.
With renewed resolve, Harry got out of bed and put on the forest green, button-down shirt he had thrown on the floor in a fit of anxiety and regret. He didn't even bother to tuck it inside his trousers as he walked out of his room and made a beeline for his coat.
"Going somewhere?" Ron asked out of nowhere, making Harry jump at his voice.
He already had one arm inside the black coat. "Hermione's."
"Why?"
"I just...want to see if she got home safely." That, he had to admit, was pretty lame - even for him.
Ron seemed to think so, too. He raised one brow. "They could still be out. What are you going to do there until they get back?"
Harry didn't answer. His other arm snaked its way inside the coat and was grasping the handle of the front door.
"Take care, then," Ron said with a finality that surprised Harry. But before he could say anything to him, Ron had already entered his room and locked his door.
/Well, that was pretty easy,/ he thought to himself, stepping out of the flat.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
David stood next to me as I fumbled with my house keys. I was still feeling a little flushed from all the dancing we had done at the 40's inspired nightclub downtown. David was a terrific dancer and you could just imagine how many beautiful women he had danced with, besides myself. I wasn't much of a dancer but he was kind enough to teach me, even though I knew I was hopeless.
"Have I told you how beautiful you looked tonight?" David whispered, leaning next to my ear.
I stopped my hands and raised my face to meet his gaze. "No," I mumbled.
"You're beautiful."
David leaned even lower and I felt his lips brush mine ever so gently. He always kissed me gently, like I was made of porcelain, and was afraid that if he pressed me too hard I might break. He pulled away slowly and I opened my eyes to find myself staring deep into his green ones - and thinking of Harry.
Without a coherent thought in my head, I put my arm around his neck and pulled him closer to me to give him another kiss. It was amazing - it was still soft, but amazing. My mind was doing incredible things, making me think that I was *actually* kissing Harry that I imagined that it was *his* face so close to mine, *his* mouth on my mouth, *his* tongue searching mine...
"Why don't we go upstairs?" I asked breathlessly, pulling away for the slightest second then closing my mouth on his again.
I didn't even wait for him to answer me. Miraculously, my free hand jammed the right key into the lock and we stumbled in, our mouths still locked together. I led him upstairs, to my room, by my mouth and my warm hand on his chest. He was groaning, trying to say something, but I wouldn't let him. His back slammed into the wall, turning my lights on. The sudden brightness didn't faze me and I continued with the dance that had my tongue searching hungrily for his.
"Oh my...," I heard him mutter. "Hermione..."
/Harry.../
We fell onto my bed, my body on top of his. I was ready to do this.
* * *
Harry stopped walking when he heard two voices whispering in the dark. He hid behind an overgrown hedge, thankful that the Grangers' green-thumbed neighbor didn't trim it down. He peeked through the branches and leaves and made out two figures - David and Hermione.
"You're beautiful," he heard him tell her, before he leaned over her and David blocked his view.
But Harry was well aware of what he was doing and he felt his hands ball into fists beside him. It took every ounce of will he had to prevent himself from jumping out and yelling that *he* should be the one kissing Hermione, *he* should be the one she was staring at...
Staring at?
Hermione shifted her body to one side so Harry could see her every movement clearly. Her deep brown eyes that had him drunk just by looking into them were now staring straight into David's, full of love and passion. Harry held his breath as her arm found its way on David's neck and she pulled him close to her for another kiss. A kiss that, even Harry had to admit, took his breath away. And if he thought that Hermione initiating the kiss was surprising, he couldn't believe it when he heard what she said next.
"Why don't we go upstairs?"
All at once, Harry felt his heart plummet to the ground and break into several million tiny splinters that found their way to every fiber of his being, paining him with every breath and every movement that he took. He would never, in a million years, ever have thought that Hermione would ask any guy to come up to her room. She always complained that he and Ron were always inviting themselves in her room while they were at Hogwarts and had a conniption when they refused to leave just to spite her.
But she wasn't doing this to spite him. She didn't even know he was watching them as they stumbled clumsily over the door then close it behind them. Harry emerged from his hiding place and positioned himself in the middle of the street, where he could see through the window on the left side of the house - Hermione's room. And it struck him that he had stood on this same spot just last week, when Mr. Granger had told him that she was finally coming home. He'd had so much hope then, thinking that he and Hermione will be together at last...
The light flickered on and Harry could make out the blurry image of David and Hermione, still kissing each other, when she turned him around so she faced the other side of the room and pushed him down. She followed him there.
Harry's last remaining embers of hope died. He didn't need to see this. He'd already lost the woman of his dreams twice - and he never even had her to begin with.
thefly: You've been reviewing since chapter 1 and I totally appreciate your comments. Thanks so much.
Annison Crane: I'm not telling you if it's going to be David and Hermione *or* Harry and Hermione - you'll just have to wait and see. I liked it when you said you'll end up as a "sobbing puddle on the floor." It touched me. ( I hope you like my next chapters as much as you did in the previous ones. I hope to hear from you soon.
Shellz: Wasn't the song beautiful? Didn't it make you tear up even the tiniest bit? ( I'm glad you listened to it. It just carried the Harry's thoughts across.
Nighttime Sunshine: Yes, I intend to make you (and everyone else cry). And not only that, I also plan on making your hearts wrench a little as I go along. Thank you for saying that I'm doing a good job on this. It means a lot.
There you go. On with the story...
DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter characters.
CHAPTER 8:
Harry couldn't sleep. He and Ron had went home an hour and a half ago, the minute David and Hermione returned from their dancing. It was all too much for him, seeing them move together in perfect synchronicity, as if they were made for each other.
Harry wanted *her* to be made for him.
*How would you guys like to go to a dance club?* David had asked, once they had returned from the dance floor. *I know this really great place near here...*
Harry was quick to decline, shooting Ron a "Let's-go-home" look. He hadn't looked at Hermione at all, even when they bade farewell - and it bothered him. They had taken Elizabeth back to Sirius' place before they went home. Ron hadn't said much during their whole trip, not that they could talk about a lot of things while Apparating, but he kept his polite distance from Harry.
He knew his best friend was hurting and was trying to hide it. What confused him was Hermione. How could she agree to making the two of them the best men at her wedding? Did she think it would put everything right if she had offered them (or Harry, especially) one of the most coveted spots in a wedding ceremony?
Ron scratched the back of his head and sighed. He didn't really believe that Hermione would have come up with this all by herself. She wasn't over Harry yet, he could tell as much. He always thought that David only provided her with a slight distraction before she admits her real feelings to the man she *truly* loves. Unfortunately, Harry didn't think in the same lines as he did.
/It's only 11,/ Harry thought dismally, craning his neck from the pillow to glance at the clock. /They're probably still out. David looks like he's got a lot of spring in his steps./ He set his head back down and willed himself to go to sleep - but he couldn't. The song kept on resonating in his head and he couldn't help but stray into the memories that had forced their way into his mind tonight.
He lifted his head up again and glanced at the clock, which now read 11:02. Damn. He was getting nowhere.
With renewed resolve, Harry got out of bed and put on the forest green, button-down shirt he had thrown on the floor in a fit of anxiety and regret. He didn't even bother to tuck it inside his trousers as he walked out of his room and made a beeline for his coat.
"Going somewhere?" Ron asked out of nowhere, making Harry jump at his voice.
He already had one arm inside the black coat. "Hermione's."
"Why?"
"I just...want to see if she got home safely." That, he had to admit, was pretty lame - even for him.
Ron seemed to think so, too. He raised one brow. "They could still be out. What are you going to do there until they get back?"
Harry didn't answer. His other arm snaked its way inside the coat and was grasping the handle of the front door.
"Take care, then," Ron said with a finality that surprised Harry. But before he could say anything to him, Ron had already entered his room and locked his door.
/Well, that was pretty easy,/ he thought to himself, stepping out of the flat.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
David stood next to me as I fumbled with my house keys. I was still feeling a little flushed from all the dancing we had done at the 40's inspired nightclub downtown. David was a terrific dancer and you could just imagine how many beautiful women he had danced with, besides myself. I wasn't much of a dancer but he was kind enough to teach me, even though I knew I was hopeless.
"Have I told you how beautiful you looked tonight?" David whispered, leaning next to my ear.
I stopped my hands and raised my face to meet his gaze. "No," I mumbled.
"You're beautiful."
David leaned even lower and I felt his lips brush mine ever so gently. He always kissed me gently, like I was made of porcelain, and was afraid that if he pressed me too hard I might break. He pulled away slowly and I opened my eyes to find myself staring deep into his green ones - and thinking of Harry.
Without a coherent thought in my head, I put my arm around his neck and pulled him closer to me to give him another kiss. It was amazing - it was still soft, but amazing. My mind was doing incredible things, making me think that I was *actually* kissing Harry that I imagined that it was *his* face so close to mine, *his* mouth on my mouth, *his* tongue searching mine...
"Why don't we go upstairs?" I asked breathlessly, pulling away for the slightest second then closing my mouth on his again.
I didn't even wait for him to answer me. Miraculously, my free hand jammed the right key into the lock and we stumbled in, our mouths still locked together. I led him upstairs, to my room, by my mouth and my warm hand on his chest. He was groaning, trying to say something, but I wouldn't let him. His back slammed into the wall, turning my lights on. The sudden brightness didn't faze me and I continued with the dance that had my tongue searching hungrily for his.
"Oh my...," I heard him mutter. "Hermione..."
/Harry.../
We fell onto my bed, my body on top of his. I was ready to do this.
* * *
Harry stopped walking when he heard two voices whispering in the dark. He hid behind an overgrown hedge, thankful that the Grangers' green-thumbed neighbor didn't trim it down. He peeked through the branches and leaves and made out two figures - David and Hermione.
"You're beautiful," he heard him tell her, before he leaned over her and David blocked his view.
But Harry was well aware of what he was doing and he felt his hands ball into fists beside him. It took every ounce of will he had to prevent himself from jumping out and yelling that *he* should be the one kissing Hermione, *he* should be the one she was staring at...
Staring at?
Hermione shifted her body to one side so Harry could see her every movement clearly. Her deep brown eyes that had him drunk just by looking into them were now staring straight into David's, full of love and passion. Harry held his breath as her arm found its way on David's neck and she pulled him close to her for another kiss. A kiss that, even Harry had to admit, took his breath away. And if he thought that Hermione initiating the kiss was surprising, he couldn't believe it when he heard what she said next.
"Why don't we go upstairs?"
All at once, Harry felt his heart plummet to the ground and break into several million tiny splinters that found their way to every fiber of his being, paining him with every breath and every movement that he took. He would never, in a million years, ever have thought that Hermione would ask any guy to come up to her room. She always complained that he and Ron were always inviting themselves in her room while they were at Hogwarts and had a conniption when they refused to leave just to spite her.
But she wasn't doing this to spite him. She didn't even know he was watching them as they stumbled clumsily over the door then close it behind them. Harry emerged from his hiding place and positioned himself in the middle of the street, where he could see through the window on the left side of the house - Hermione's room. And it struck him that he had stood on this same spot just last week, when Mr. Granger had told him that she was finally coming home. He'd had so much hope then, thinking that he and Hermione will be together at last...
The light flickered on and Harry could make out the blurry image of David and Hermione, still kissing each other, when she turned him around so she faced the other side of the room and pushed him down. She followed him there.
Harry's last remaining embers of hope died. He didn't need to see this. He'd already lost the woman of his dreams twice - and he never even had her to begin with.