Yes, I know it's been forever since I last updated. And yes, I know that my "fans" (all three of them) have probably abandoned me due to my prolonged silence, but Life happened to me somewhere along the way. And now that I've found the time and the inspiration, here's another chapter for your enjoyment. Review or not in the end, as you wish.
A Midnight Rendezvous
Hermione looked up from her homework and looked around the common room. There were Finnigam and Seamus, both engrossed in a game of exploding snap. Ron was besides her, floundering with a Transfiguration essay he had due tomorrow. Neville was sitting by the fire, writing some extra credit work in Herbology, in an effort to secure a good grade average.
'Good,' Hermione thought, 'they're all where I want them. Now I just need the guts to move.'
Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She had to move quickly and surely. 'Ron, where is that Potions essay I gave Harry a few days ago?' she said, hoping he wouldn't notice her slightly hurried tone and breathing.
'Huh?' Ron asked, lifting his eyes from the dismal attempt at an essay on his knees.
'Oh, come on,' Hermione hurried on, 'I gave him my essay so he could write it, but I told him to give it back to me. Where is it?'
'I don't know, Herm, why dya need it now?' Ron complained.
'I found some more material in the book I just finished, and I want to put it in the essay,' she lied.
'Oh, come on, Herm, it's probably excellent as is,' Ron answered.
'Ron, I can't leave it like that, its like handing in a draft!' she answered, getting herself on a roll, 'This is one of the reasons you never get your essays perfect. You always have to strive for perfection, always add on more and more material, always revise, and double check. That's the very basics of good writing. How else can –'
'Alright, alright, I get it,' Ron relented. 'I don't know where the stupid essay is, just wait until Harry gets back, he'll know where he put it.'
'But Ron,' Hermione fretted, 'I can't wait until then. He has practice, and then he's meeting with Oliver, and that could take forever, with the two of them talking Quidditch and all, and I won't be able to fix it tomorrow, what with my Arithmancy project, and the extra credit work I took in Ancient Runes –'
'But Hermione, I don't know where it is!' Ron put in, trying to get Hermione to calm down. 'And I have this essay to finish, I don't have time to go looking for it –'
'So that's it? I give up my time and effort, and your to busy to help me out?' Hermione shouted at the shocked Ron. 'Fine then! I'll look for it myself!'
And with that she stomped up and left for the boys' dormitory in a huff. Ron shook his head in dismay. 'That loony bird,' he muttered before he turned his attention back at the essay before him.
As soon as Hermione was in Harry's dorm room, she shut the door behind her, and leaned heavily on it. 'I can't believe I pulled it off!' she said gleefully. The room was empty, as she made sure of before she came up. She rushed to Harry's trunk, beside his bed, and opened it quickly. She started sifting through the things, careful not to make a noticeable mess. 'As if he'd notice, with the chaos he has here,' she muttered as she went through his things. At last she found what she was looking for. She pulled out the misty silvery material and spread it out. Just then she heard footsteps out the door.
Neville walked into his shared dorm room with his Herbology essay safely tucked in his book. He walked to his bed and placed the things in his beg, with the rest of his schoolwork, as he went to get ready for dinner, he didn't notice one Hermione Granger slip out the open door, safely tucked under the invisibility cloak.
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When Harry touched down in the end of practice, he didn't feel relieved, or thrilled, or excited. He was a wreck of nerves. All practice he was not himself. He got hit by Bludgers several times, because he hadn't paid attention. And he was sure that he missed the Snitch several times simply because his mind had wandered. His coaching was vague and the other players seemed to notice something was amiss, asking him several times if he was okay, and trying to be as helpful as possible. All in all, it was a miserable practice. Harry released everyone to the showers and stood in the field wondering about what was about to happen.
Harry yelped in surprise when a small cough pulled him out of his reverie. He spun around to see Oliver Wood looking at him, a small smile on his face.
'Oh my God,' Harry thought, 'he's so adorable.' He ogled for a moment before catching himself and muttered: 'Oh, Oliver, it's you. You – erm – surprised me – erm…'
'It's okay, Harry,' Oliver said with an easy tone. He beckoned towards the stadium seats, and Harry walked beside him, hoping that Oliver wouldn't hear the pounding of his heart.
'How's it like, being captain of the Quidditch team?' Oliver asked with a grin.
'Oh, Its fine, I guess. I'm not as good as you were, but I get by. And it's a lot of pressure, too, knowing everyone depends on you,' Harry answered, proud at being able to remain coherent with the object of him desire a pace away from him. Oliver kept the conversation on the matters of Quidditch, Harry trying to focus on what he was saying and not the lips that were saying it. Neither of them noticed a third set of footprints in the grass, following a few steps behind them.
'So,' Oliver said hesitantly, when they were seated in the stadium seats, 'what did you want to talk about?'
'Erm – I don't know,' Harry said confusedly. 'I mean, you wanted to talk to me after practice.'
Hermione took a deep breath from her place a few steps nearby and pulled out he wand. She had to move quickly.
'What do you mean?' Oliver asked with a frown. 'You sent me a note with Hedwig asking me to meet you. You said you had something you wanted to talk to me about.'
'Sent you a note? I didn't –' Harry was cut short as a gust of air passed between them.
'Intrepidus basium!' Hermione whispered forcefully, pointing her wand out at them.
A blast of air flew from it at the two startled guys, and before they could react, they were close together, their lips glued in a passionate kiss. Oliver's eyes were wide in shock as Harry's lips hungrily assaulted his, and when Harry's tongue sought entrance, he dazedly relented, his mouth opening.
Harry had no idea what had happened, had no idea of nothing except those lips on his, his tongue seeking to make love to Oliver's mouth. His eyes were closed, trying to savor this moment forever. He let out a moan as he felt Oliver's tongue respond to his own probing. Oliver felt those sweet lips on his, felt his heart flutter madly, and his blood sing in his ears. He gave in to the kiss, his arms coming up to embrace Harry.
Harry opened his eyes as he felt a hand on the back of his head, and another on the small of his back, pulling him closer. He saw Oliver's face close to him, the moonlight on his angelic features. Harry shot back, like a recoiling snake. Oliver staggered at the loss of the heat and support. Harry gasped in shock, his hands flying to his mouth. Oliver too realized what had happened and felt a chill run through him.
'Harry –' he started, but before he could say anything else, Harry took his broom and bolted.
