A/N Hey, y'all; this is a bit of a short chapter; only half of chapter 4, actually, but I've been a bit swamped lately, so as per usual, I figured it'd be better to post what I did have so far rather than post nothing at all.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, etc, are the intellectual property of JKR; no infringement is intended.
Chapter 4
I don't know if it's possible to reminisce about a moment as much as I have about that sixth year train ride to Hogwarts; until then, I'd always considered home to be school, or the Burrow, but afterwards, I knew that home was having you in my arms. I've thought of that moment on the train, analyzing and ripping it apart over the years, trying to come up with some reason why I didn't kiss you or tell you or show you how I felt, but all I can figure is that it just wasn't the right time—blimey, whoever thought I'd ever give a second thought to Professor Trelawney's drivel—and you know what they say: everything happens for a reason, and if I didn't kiss you then, if I didn't tell you how I felt then, it wasn't just because Harry was sitting right in front of us. If it had happened then, maybe everything else would have been different, maybe we wouldn't have lasted as long as we have, maybe our friendship would have been different, I'm not sure.
I still don't understand some of the more subtle nuances of our relationship; I don't understand why my stomach flops every time I see a head of brown hair; I don't understand why rainbows make me think of your smile, or how I see stars shining in your eyes; I don't understand how I can have so0 much love inside of me for you; I can't understand how someone so small can made me so angry, and most importantly, why the thought of bickering with you makes my heart thump in excitement.
We were all on edge with the promise of Christmas exams and essays looming above our heads. The weather outside was barely fit to step into: something about a small Spanish man kept popping up in the Muggle newspapers you insisted on reading. Quite frankly, I just didn't understand why you read Muggle news when we all knew that half the news stories in there were a fabrication or alteration to what had originated in the Wizarding world. Still, you always told me that I should keep my mind open and try to absorb as much information as possible, so, purely to get you to stop nagging at me, I was keeping myself from rolling my eyes by hiding my face behind the pages of the newspaper half you'd handed me while you read the other. I was in the middle of an article reporting a severe ice storm somewhere in Canada (but hey, they've got to be used to it) when I felt your eyes on me.
"What?" I looked up, paranoid at once, and subconsciously rubbing my nose with the back of my hand lest there be a spot of ink on it.
"You frown when you read," you told me, as though it was some exciting and mysterious fact you'd just discovered about me. "I just noticed that a few seconds ago," you continued, giving credence to my previous thought, and explaining the look you were giving me, but why such awe just because I happen to furrow my brows a little when I concentrate? It wasn't by any means earth shattering information.
"You've seen me read before, Hermione," I pointed-out, and your own brow began to furrow as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.
"I know," you said almost dismissively, your eyes focusing on a spot on the rug, "but I just never noticed, that's all," you said, apparently thinking that it was everything but the cryptic, nonsensical answer that it actually was, and went back to reading your newspaper.
Maybe studying (or well, let's face it, lack thereof in my case) had been getting to me, but what had just transcended had seemed just slightly off-kilter from our usual interchanges; hell, it was just plain bizarre. Maybe studying had gotten to you too, and Merlin knew you'd started a full month ahead (which even I must concede to be a huge improvement as compared to our first five years). Now that I thought about it, though, you'd seemed off-center these past few weeks. Had Lavender and Parvati started slipping in your pumpkin juice? Or, maybe you were just going through those 'girl times' I'd rather not think of…although you hadn't burst-out crying for no reason or threatened to hex me and have Ginny help you bury the evidence as of late, so that probably wasn't it, either.
"Are you feeling all right?" I asked you, deciding to take the direct approach; I had enough to skirt-around with you that I wasn't about to add 'casual conversation' to the list.
"Fine, why?" you asked, not looking-up from your article. Wait, were you reading the sports section? Now I knew that something was wrong, and the hairs at the back of my neck were starting to stand on end. My hand started inching towards my wand as I tried to make sense of what was happening.
"No reason, really. Hey, Hermione?" I said, trying to act nonchalant but also deciding I would test you before doing anything rash, "Where's Harry? I haven't seen him all day," I said, knowing full-well that he'd stayed-up late to help Ginny (they'd decided to became all chummy and friend-like last year, though I certainly didn't understand why my best-friend would want to befriend my little sister when he could have me…though somehow that doesn't really sound like what I'm trying to say with her Defense Against the Dark Arts essay and was probably still sleeping. If you were really who you said you were (i.e. Hermione) then you would know that too…of course, probably every Gryffindor would as well.
"All day? It's barely noon, Ron, he's probably still sleeping," you said. Oh, you were good, whoever you were.
"Yeah, probably. So, err," I searched for something to ask, something that only you would know, that no one could find-out through research, something cryptic and obscure, "have you talked to Vicky, lately?" Okay, so maybe it wasn't cryptic and obscure, but I was still curious. Still, though, I wasn't taking any chances and the fingers of my left hand had just wrapped around my wand when you noticed what I was doing. One minute we were both sitting, and in the few seconds that followed, we had both jumped-up and drawn our wands, now finding ourselves standing about three feet apart and having our wands aimed at each other.
"What are you doing?" you asked me. Well, now, that was fresh, wasn't it? You, the sports-page reading Death-Eater in disguise was asking me what I was doing?
"I could ask you the same thing, but you can add 'who are you' to the list," I said, trying to get a sense of what had just happened.
"Excuse me? Who am I? What about who are you? And what have you done with Ron? If you've taken Polyjuice Potion in the last hour he has to be around here, and you had better hope and pray that he's all right because you've hurt one hair on his head, I can promise you that I will make you pay." Well, you sure did have the impression of an angry Hermione down to a science, didn't you? I guess they were making Death Eaters marginally more intelligent these days, though that sports thing had completely blown your cover.
Now I've read enough books to know that when in a confrontation of this sort, the way you speak to your opponent is just as important as the way you handle the situation. After all, one needs to have some sass, needs to show wit in order to demonstrate that one has brain behind the brawn, and the staple of any heroic figure is a witty comeback. I was still trying to come-up with the perfect comeback to your death threat and had even managed to think-up what I thought would be a really great one (though I was still working-out the delivery) when Harry came down the stairs.
"Harry, stay back!" I yelled, though there was a distinct female echo to my words, and I realized that you'd spoken the same words. It was then that I started having doubts over whether or not you actually were a Death Eater, or whether you might have just been genuinely interested in sports…..Nah! There was definitely something fishy going on!
"What the--!? What are you doing? Put those wands down right now!" Harry said, ignoring our warning for him to seek cover and actually walking further down the stairs. "What in the name of Zeus do you two think you're doing!?" Harry asked, and the grip on my wand tightened as I kept my eyes trained on you in case you made any sudden moves. Your eyes were locked on me as well, which struck me as unusual. After all, if you were a Death Eater, wouldn't you be jumping at the chance to get your hands on Harry?
"Stay back, Harry," I said, keeping my wand pointed at you, "that's not Hermione." I answered.
"Harry, don't listen to him; it's not Ron," you said, still keeping your eyes on me.
"Of course I'm Ron; Harry, she was reading the sports section!" I enunciated, though neither of us was probably making much sense, because Harry just stood there looking at us as though we were both barking.
"Hermione, what was the name of the cousin of the General who lead the wizard army that defeated the Goblins during the revolution?" Harry asked, and you blurted-out some answer in the way you always do as though it was something that everyone was supposed to know.
"Ron, who was the Cannon's top seeker the year you were born, and how many snitches did he catch that season?" he asked me, and I rolled my eyes.
"Well firstly, Harry, it was a SHE," I said, and he smiled because I'd spotted the trick, and proceeded to give him the stats.
"There you go, are you satisfied? Now would you both put your wands down?" he said, and I looked at you. You had answered that question only like 'you' would have been able to, but that didn't change the fact that you'd been reading the sports section of the newspaper…were you really that desperate for reading material? Had you already gone through all the books in the library? Of course, our wands were still aimed at each other.
"You put it down first," I said, and you shook your head.
"I don't think so; you put it down first."
"No way," I replied, but Harry walked right in between us.
"You both put the wands down together," he said, and we did. "Good, now I'm getting some late breakfast," he added, and moved towards the portrait hole, disappearing through it a moment later. We stood a moment in silence, gaping at each other, and you finally broke the silence.
"I can't believe you did that," you said.
"Did what!?" I asked defensively. If you hadn't been reading the sports section, it would never have happened, so theoretically, it was your fault.
"What do you mean, did what? You threatened to hex me!"
"Well so did you!"
"I was just defending myself! You pulled your wand out on me; was I just supposed to stand there and let you hex me!?"
"Well you were the one acting all bizarre! How was I supposed to know that you were just going through one of your moments?" I asked; my voice was becoming progressively louder as our fight became progressively more animated. We hadn't really fought like this in years, but it was bringing back a flood of memories, and I had to admit that part of me was kind of happy to see you with your cheeks flushed and your eyes shooting daggers at me.
"One of my 'moments'?" you asked, poking a finger at my chest, "One of my 'moments'?" you said again in disbelief.
"Yes one of your 'moments'. You've been acting weird for the last month; how the bloody hell am I supposed to know how to take you when one second you're happy and the next you're getting angry and poking me in the chest," I said, grabbing your wrist in my hand to stop the jabbing, "stop that, it hurts," I told you and your eyes darkened to a dark chocolate. You wrenched your hand out of my grip and turned towards the dormitory, yelling obscenities (well as obscene as they ever got to be coming out of your mouth) at me.
"Well that's rich, Ron Weasley. That's really rich," you were saying, as you marched upstairs and I followed.
"Oh would you stop saying everything in double already? I hear it the first time!" I yelled, getting irritated, as you marched into the empty sixth year girl's dormitory where I followed you inside.
"Oh you, you," you said, trying to think of something nasty to call me, and when you couldn't come up with anything, you walked into the adjoining washroom and slammed the door in my face. It only took a split second for me to make-up my mind, and then I followed you in; you whirled around in surprise. Apparently, the last thing you'd been expecting was for me to follow you. The shower stalls were empty, and I thanked my lucky stars for it; the last thing I needed was to have Parvati or Lavender squealing to high heaven. "Get out," you said, pointing to the door.
"No," I answered; following instructions had never been my strong suit.
"Fine, then I'll leave," you replied, trying to get around me, but I wasn't finished yet, and I blocked the doorway. "All right, then; you want me to stop repeating myself? Well here's something I'm only going to say once," you said, marching up to me and getting on your tiptoes in an attempt to meet me eye to eye, though you were still looking-up quite a few inches.
Your face was so close to mine that I could feel your breath at the base of my throat, and whatever anger I'd had completely vanished and was replaced by something else—longing. I longed to grab your face and kiss you, to run my hands through your hair, to feel your arms move up and wrap around my neck. I wanted to wrap you in my arms and never let you go. Of course, that would be a little difficult with your telling me I was the worst being on earth, which was exactly what you were screaming at me right then (but with much larger words). I tried to listen, I really did, but your being so close that I could smell the soft scent of your hair and feel the heat radiating from your body, so close that I could see the flecks of gold in your eyes did something to me, and I snapped. I couldn't hear what you were saying, and frankly I didn't care anyway. For the first time in three years, I took control of my own destiny and threw caution to the wind; I brought my face down those last few inches, wrapped my hands in your hair, and kissed you with all the pent-up energy I'd held in check all this time.
A/N: Okay, so I'm evil leaving it off there, but hey, I never said I was nice :P The next chapter starts-on where this one leaves-off, if that's any consolation.
