Someone reviewed and tried to tell me that Hermione 'can't be gay since she
is a girl. She is a Lesbian. Get it straight.' What a loony.
Anyway, another person offered to write more graphically explicit scenes of Harry having *fun*. I won't post them myself, but if he does write some stuff, I will definitely at the very least link to it. That is all the news I have for right now.
*mumbles something about 'can't believe that that stupiddie thought that girls can't be gay'*
On a side note, it has been brought to my attention that it seems unrealistic that Harry has been turning down all of these girls. I think it is entirely realistic. You have to see things from Harry's perspective, not your own. Harry spent his entire life emotionally neglected. He has no idea how to deal with affection past friendliness. Also, he hates being sought after for his scar. What makes you think that this whole Veela thing isn't anything but yet another scar to be gawked at? In my opinion, Harry wants someone to love him for who he is, not what he is or what name he goes by, and this entire heritage thing just upped the difficulty rating by at least 100. Hopefully this chapter will clear up a little of that.
(end of rant)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*
Hermione calmed down after about ten minutes, where she gently stepped back from Harry and sat on his bed, wiping her eyes with the palms of her hands. She sniffed loudly once, then twice, before clearing her throat and attempting to speak.
"So, now that we have why I'M upset out in the open, tell me what happened with the Patil sisters?" she asked, a half grin playing on her face, contrasting with her bloodshot eyes.
Harry sighed, sitting down next to her, before relating the story about the sisters dragging him to an empty classroom and trying to have their way with him.
Hermione's eyes widened with each passing minute during Harry's recollection, waiting patiently until he finished before speaking. "And you just LEFT! WHY!?! _I_ would have stayed..."
Harry turned to her with a sad expression on his face. "'Mione, as long as we are letting everything out into the open, how much affection do you think I am possibly used to receiving?"
Her left hand shot up to cover her open mouth while her right snaked around his neck, pulling him into a one-armed hug. "I.. I guess I never thought that you might have those kind of problems.. I'm so, so sorry Harry."
Harry felt his right shoulder beginning to dampen with her tears, so he pulled back and looked into her eyes, his own glistening with unshed tears. "Thanks for understanding, 'Mione." He stood and began to pace. "It's not that I don't like the attention, I think part of my 'maturation' made that part if not fun, than at least bearable. It's that I don't really know how to react, and I definitely don't want to just go around sleeping with anyone who happens to cross paths with me." As almost an afterthought, he added, "That just wouldn't be right."
He paused in his pacing to reach behind him and try and scratch around where his wings met his skin, his arms contorted into almost impossible angle, yet still failing miserably. He chuckled, a self-depreciating sound. "You know, two days ago I was worried that the woman I fell in love with would only see the scar, not the person. Now, not only do I have that to deal with, but now I influence feelings without any conscious effort. I think," he swallowed, "that I may just be destined to be alone for the rest of my life."
"Don't you talk like that. Any brother of mine is going to keep his hopes up. At least wait until you talk to Fleur and Gabrielle before you resign the rest of your life to a monastery, okay?"
Harry managed a smile at the fact that she called him her 'brother'. "You always do know the right thing to say when it comes to what matters, 'Mione. But I thought that you didn't like Fleur?"
Hermione blushed and began fidgeting with her skirt from where she sat. "No, I don't really have a problem with her. It's just that I would look at her, and be reminded that I couldn't have her. In fact, if memory serves correctly, her influence is even stronger than yours to me."
Harry grinned, still getting used to the fact that she could share the same interests in significant others as himself, before trying to scratch his back again. "Oh, for Merlin's sake!" he growled out before shrugging his robe and quasi-shirt off. He took great relish in stretching out his wings, arching his back and tilting his head up. He finished his stretch, and looked over to where 'Mione was looking at him with an awe-struck expression on her face.
"'Mione? Everything alright?" he asked her.
Hermione swallowed convulsively before answering. "Harry, you looked like some kind of angel just now. It was just.... beautiful, no other word would do you justice."
Harry laughed, getting more and more comfortable in the various states of undress he often found himself in. "Angel or not, these wings ITCH! You think you could help me out a bit?" he pleaded at her with his best 'puppy dog eyes' expression.
"Oh, you! You don't have to turn those eyes on me to do you a favor!" She stood and walked behind him, where his wings had now returned to their most comfortable resting position, the mid-joint suspended at the very top and the wings themselves hinged out at 45-degree angles.
"If you could just gently scratch around where my wings meet my back, that'd be-. ooooh, that feels good."
Hermione gently raked her nails up and down the inside joints of his wings, taking great care not to over-stimulate the already aggravated skin. Harry hunched forward, groaning in pleasure for a short while the black feathered wings shook with pleasure, before the scratching began to hurt. He turned around and hugged her in a silent thank-you, wrapping his wings as well as his arms around her.
Hermione was feeling content just being held by him. As both were the only child in their families, neither ever had the sibling love that most brothers and sisters take for granted. They parted after a short moment, no feelings of awkwardness apparent, both smiling gently. Harry made his way over to his trunk, where he grabbed one of Dudley's old tank tops.
"Do you think that you could help me into this Hermione? The armholes should be big enough to accommodate both my arms and wings, but I don't think I could get it over them alone. It's just a little cold with only the front of a shirt and that flimsy robe to keep me warm."
Hermione took the article from him wordlessly, and when he stretched his wings behind him, she gently threaded them through the large holes in the extremely baggy tank top. Once it had gotten close enough for him to handle on his own, he folded his wings and threaded his arms and head through, pulling it down around his waist. The top was tight around his chest, having the armholes stretched to accommodate four of his six appendages. The bottom, however, pooled down around his thighs almost like a skirt. Dudley was NOT a small boy. Harry picked up his wand, muttering a few choice incantations under his breath at the errant fabric, shaping it to fit like a glove.
Harry walked over and sat on his bed, ruffling his wings subconsciously to align his feathers. Hermione sat next to him, absent mindedly stroking the back of his left wing while lost in thought.
The sensations that Harry felt from her stroking his wing were unexpected to put it mildly. His breathing quickly became labored and a light sheen of perspiration broke out on his forehead. He shut his eyes, biting back a moan as he felt himself becoming excited. He shuddered and groaned involuntarily and Hermione mistook his current state as one of pain.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry Harry, I just wasn't thinking, they still must be sensitive. After all, you only grew them this morning. Is there anything I can do?" She spoke so fast that in Harry's current state he barely made out the words.
"Just don't touch them again and for god's sake, if people find out about my wings, tell NO ONE what happens if you stroke them, okay?"
"Did it really hurt that badly Harry?" she asked in a meek voice, hiding most of her face behind her bushy hair and balled up fists.
"Hurt? No, no it.. Well yea, actually it hurt pretty badly. Just please don't touch them without permission again, okay?" He had quickly changed his mind, thinking that A.) It could only create an awkward situation were she to know the truth, and B.) The less people that knew about THIS particular trait, the better.
"I just seem to be making a mess of everything today," she sighed dejectedly, collapsing back onto the bed.
"Don't worry about it, 'Mione, It wasn't really that bad at all. Besides, I think that today is National 'Weird Shit' Day or something," he told her as he lay down next to her, his hands supporting his head while trying to make sure that his wings weren't being crushed. "Why don't we just hang out here until dinner. I'd like to let my wings breathe for a bit, and I'm sure that you're not quite ready to face the rest of the school yet either, are you?"
Hermione covered her face with her hands and groaned. "Oh god, the rest of the school. Can't I just crawl into a corner and die instead?"
Harry chuckled, to which she glared at him. He decided to change the subject. "So, were you enjoying Susan's little display at Herbology as much as I was?"
He looked over to her, only to find her avoiding eye contact with him. "Maybe" she whispered, slightly embarrassed.
"Then why did you throw that paper at me? I could have ogled all I wanted, and since everyone's attention was on me, so could you!"
"No, you forget that my girlfriend was at that table. Add to that the fact that since you and Ron were both staring, I couldn't help but to stare as well, and, well, I just HAD to stop you. Otherwise, someone might have caught me ogling her as well."
"You've got to admit, though, she does have really nice boobs." Harry replied cheekily, trying to get a rise out of her.
"MmmmmHmmmm," was the retort, shocking Harry so much that he fell off of his side of the bed with a 'Thump'.
He sat up, looking at her incredulously, and she grinned unrepentantly back at him. "You have no idea how nice it is not to have to guard what my mouth says anymore."
Harry sobered up, realizing that she had been living a lie for the entire time he had known her, pretending to be something that she wasn't. "Well, lets judge for ourselves if Ron actually did go blabbing to the school at large. For all we know, he might have thought that you just lied to let him down easily."
Hermione closed her eyes, whispering "I hope so."
Harry took her face in his hands, making her open her eyes so that he could look into them, trying to convey the truth about what he was to say with his eyes as much as his words. "No matter what, sister, you don't have to pretend when it's just you and I, okay?"
Her eyes actually teared up again, touched by how far Harry was going to make sure that she knew he still cared for her, and that nothing that mattered had changed. "Thank you," she whispered.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*
Harry and Hermione exited the dorm room and each took a deep breath, both preparing themselves to hide their secrets from the rest of the school. They entered the common room, which had emptied of people, and made their way down to the Great Hall for supper. As they entered the dining room, Hermione kept looking around for people whispering and sneaking glances at her, but everything seemed normal. Well, as normal as it had been at lunch, anyway. Harry would be the center of attention wherever he even thought of sitting, even getting four separate invites to join the Slytherin table.
Both looked up to find Ron sitting on the end of the Gryffindor table, closest to the teachers, and fuming mad. His face matched the color of his hair, and he looked ready to explode at a moment's warning. So ready, in fact, that no one sat within a five-foot radius of him.
Harry turned to Hermione. "Why don't we go sit with Luna? I really doubt that it would be beneficial to try and speak with Ron at the moment."
Hermione turned to him with wide, scared eyes, and whispered harshly to him; "Are you crazy? If we do that, everyone is going to find out about us!"
Harry touched her shoulder, trying to will some calm into her rigid being. "Relax, everyone knows that Luna is a friend of ours, and so far I've had offers to sit just about anywhere I would please. Besides, I need to apologize to Padma and Parvati about running away from them, and Padma seems like a good place to start."
Hermione's analytical mind processed the information and deemed it worthy of action. They made their way over to the Ravenclaw table, politely asking if they could sit. Padma moved over, an unreadable expression on her face to make room for Harry, and on the other side of the table Luna moved down with the same dreamy expression on her face that always seemed to be there.
'I have to make a mental note to ask 'Mione if she still behaves that way in private,' he thought to himself before turning to Padma. "Padma?" he whispered, trying to keep the conversation as private as possible in a room crowded with boisterous teenagers. She turned to face him, and he could literally feel the hurt in her expression.
"Look, I want to apologize for earlier," he began, tentatively at first but soon the words came rolling out. "I didn't mean to offend you and Parvati, but I panicked. I'm not used to being approached, and I couldn't handle it. I didn't mean any harm, honestly."
Her eyes misted over, and she looked as though she would burst into tears at any moment. "Are we too ugly for you Harry? Am I?" she pleaded, and the full effect of how dangerous Harry's new powers could be settled down as a sick feeling in Harry's stomach.
He took her face in-between his hands, as he did with Hermione earlier, projecting as much honesty as he could with his gaze. "Padma, you are gorgeous. Don't ever let yourself think otherwise. Just give me some time to get used to this. I'll let you know right now that any woman who is going to try and bed me in the first two minutes we are alone is not going to get very far at all. Give me a week or two, and then if you want to try again, try it RIGHT, we'll see what can be done, okay?"
Harry spoke vehemently, yet quiet enough so that no outsiders heard what was said. She nodded, looking much happier than before, yet still ashamed at how forward she was earlier. She turned her attention back to her plate, striking up a conversation with the person sitting on the opposite side of her as Harry, and so Harry turned his attention across the table to where Luna and Hermione were having an animated conversation on some abstract charms theory. Harry was lost after five seconds of listening.
Supper seemed to drag on and on, and Harry desperately regretted asking 'Mione to sit at the Ravenclaw table. While speaking with Padma was very, very important to him, she said not another word to him throughout the meal, not even looking at him. Luna and Hermione were so involved in each other, he doubted that they even remembered that he was there. The rest of the table, well, the girls were staring suggestively at him, which he was slowly becoming used to, however the boys seemed to notice this, and were not very happy with him about it.
He spotted Parvati rise and begin walking back to the common room, alone, her body posture dejected. He politely made his excuses and rose, following her out.
Once he was sure that they were out of hearing range of anyone from the Hall, he quietly got her attention. He reached out and gently touched her shoulder, causing her to yelp in surprise and fright.
Well, at least the TRIED to quietly get her attention.
After he had calmed her down, which involved many soothing gestures and profuse apologizing, he managed to convince her to let him explain why he had run off from her and her sister earlier.
He led her into a nearby classroom, then locked and silenced the door.
"Look, Parvati, I've already had this talk with your sister, so I'll make this as clear as possible, seeing as how I don't want a repeat of THAT particular conversation."
"I haven't ever been paid much attention to by women until recently. When you and she cornered me in the classroom, I panicked, having no frame of reference for what was happening, and therefore ran. Yes, you are a very attractive person, and yes, given a little more experience, I probably wouldn't have run. This has absolutely nothing to do with how I feel about you personally, it is just something that I have to deal with. Give me a week or two, and we'll see how things shape up, okay?"
"Is this some kind of let down, Harry? You don't think that I am good enough for you?"
Harry, exhausted, aching, and emotionally drained, had by this point had enough. "Look, if you don't believe me, go ask Hermione. She knows me better than almost anyone alive, and will confirm everything I've just told you. I've just about bloody had it with everyone thinking that they are somehow not good enough for something or another. Good night, Parvati. I hope you feel differently tomorrow."
Turning without a backward glance, he stalked the rest of the way back to his tower and his bed, his cloak billowing out behind him in an angry swirl.
Harry dragged his tired body to bed, vowing to eat an early breakfast, skip lunch, and have a late dinner in the kitchens long after everyone was in their respective common rooms from now on. Avoiding large crowds were he would face the wrath of pissed-off boyfriends just became his top priority.
He walked into the dorms, seeing all of his year mates sitting on their beds talking. The instant Ron saw him, however, he stopped talking, swung his legs onto his bed, and closed his curtains, effectively shutting himself off from the rest of the room.
An uncomfortable silence descended in the room, with Harry staring at Ron's bed from his place in the open doorway, and Neville, Seamus, and Dean nervously looking at each other. Harry shook his head, pulled his wand from his cloak pocket, and muttered a silencing charm directed at Ron's curtains, effectively preventing him from overhearing anything that was said.
Harry shut the door, casting the same silencing charm on the room, before posing a question. "Do any of you know why Ron is pissed at me THIS week?" He asked with no malice, only resignation, and perhaps it was no fear of retribution that made his fellow Gryffindors answer him.
"We honestly don't know, Harry," Dean finally volunteered. "Usually when Ron gets angry about something, he is extremely vocal about it. All we know is that he had a private talk with Hermione up here, then left in a rage less than five minutes later. Then you came up, locked the door, and spent hours up here with her before supper." Here Seamus picked up the story. "After Ron left though, he didn't say a word to anyone about it. He was actually acting normally until you walked in. Sorry Harry, can't help you out this time, mate."
"Just bloody perfect" he growled, picking up the undertone that said Harry had stolen 'Mione from Ron. He uncharmed the room, then Ron's bed, before falling into his own, fully clothed, not willing to expose his wings in front of the uninformed. He tossed and turned, having trouble catching the sandman with his wings uncomfortably mashed against his torso.
Two hours later, he finally drifted off to sleep, the last thought on his mind being: 'I hate Mondays'.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*
Harry awoke, early in the morning, to an unfamiliar weight resting on his right pec, his right arm uncomfortably numb, and a second weight resting on his upper right thigh.
He groggily opened his eyes, to find an unfamiliar mass of blonde hair tickling his nostrils.
He closed his eyes and set his head back down on the pillow, bringing up his free hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes before the information finally processed.
He sat upright rigidly, unending the woman curled up on his side. He looked down to the semi-familiar face of a seventh-year, one whom he had seen in passing but never actually talked to.
"What," he growled, "the fuck are you doing in my bed?"
Anyway, another person offered to write more graphically explicit scenes of Harry having *fun*. I won't post them myself, but if he does write some stuff, I will definitely at the very least link to it. That is all the news I have for right now.
*mumbles something about 'can't believe that that stupiddie thought that girls can't be gay'*
On a side note, it has been brought to my attention that it seems unrealistic that Harry has been turning down all of these girls. I think it is entirely realistic. You have to see things from Harry's perspective, not your own. Harry spent his entire life emotionally neglected. He has no idea how to deal with affection past friendliness. Also, he hates being sought after for his scar. What makes you think that this whole Veela thing isn't anything but yet another scar to be gawked at? In my opinion, Harry wants someone to love him for who he is, not what he is or what name he goes by, and this entire heritage thing just upped the difficulty rating by at least 100. Hopefully this chapter will clear up a little of that.
(end of rant)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*
Hermione calmed down after about ten minutes, where she gently stepped back from Harry and sat on his bed, wiping her eyes with the palms of her hands. She sniffed loudly once, then twice, before clearing her throat and attempting to speak.
"So, now that we have why I'M upset out in the open, tell me what happened with the Patil sisters?" she asked, a half grin playing on her face, contrasting with her bloodshot eyes.
Harry sighed, sitting down next to her, before relating the story about the sisters dragging him to an empty classroom and trying to have their way with him.
Hermione's eyes widened with each passing minute during Harry's recollection, waiting patiently until he finished before speaking. "And you just LEFT! WHY!?! _I_ would have stayed..."
Harry turned to her with a sad expression on his face. "'Mione, as long as we are letting everything out into the open, how much affection do you think I am possibly used to receiving?"
Her left hand shot up to cover her open mouth while her right snaked around his neck, pulling him into a one-armed hug. "I.. I guess I never thought that you might have those kind of problems.. I'm so, so sorry Harry."
Harry felt his right shoulder beginning to dampen with her tears, so he pulled back and looked into her eyes, his own glistening with unshed tears. "Thanks for understanding, 'Mione." He stood and began to pace. "It's not that I don't like the attention, I think part of my 'maturation' made that part if not fun, than at least bearable. It's that I don't really know how to react, and I definitely don't want to just go around sleeping with anyone who happens to cross paths with me." As almost an afterthought, he added, "That just wouldn't be right."
He paused in his pacing to reach behind him and try and scratch around where his wings met his skin, his arms contorted into almost impossible angle, yet still failing miserably. He chuckled, a self-depreciating sound. "You know, two days ago I was worried that the woman I fell in love with would only see the scar, not the person. Now, not only do I have that to deal with, but now I influence feelings without any conscious effort. I think," he swallowed, "that I may just be destined to be alone for the rest of my life."
"Don't you talk like that. Any brother of mine is going to keep his hopes up. At least wait until you talk to Fleur and Gabrielle before you resign the rest of your life to a monastery, okay?"
Harry managed a smile at the fact that she called him her 'brother'. "You always do know the right thing to say when it comes to what matters, 'Mione. But I thought that you didn't like Fleur?"
Hermione blushed and began fidgeting with her skirt from where she sat. "No, I don't really have a problem with her. It's just that I would look at her, and be reminded that I couldn't have her. In fact, if memory serves correctly, her influence is even stronger than yours to me."
Harry grinned, still getting used to the fact that she could share the same interests in significant others as himself, before trying to scratch his back again. "Oh, for Merlin's sake!" he growled out before shrugging his robe and quasi-shirt off. He took great relish in stretching out his wings, arching his back and tilting his head up. He finished his stretch, and looked over to where 'Mione was looking at him with an awe-struck expression on her face.
"'Mione? Everything alright?" he asked her.
Hermione swallowed convulsively before answering. "Harry, you looked like some kind of angel just now. It was just.... beautiful, no other word would do you justice."
Harry laughed, getting more and more comfortable in the various states of undress he often found himself in. "Angel or not, these wings ITCH! You think you could help me out a bit?" he pleaded at her with his best 'puppy dog eyes' expression.
"Oh, you! You don't have to turn those eyes on me to do you a favor!" She stood and walked behind him, where his wings had now returned to their most comfortable resting position, the mid-joint suspended at the very top and the wings themselves hinged out at 45-degree angles.
"If you could just gently scratch around where my wings meet my back, that'd be-. ooooh, that feels good."
Hermione gently raked her nails up and down the inside joints of his wings, taking great care not to over-stimulate the already aggravated skin. Harry hunched forward, groaning in pleasure for a short while the black feathered wings shook with pleasure, before the scratching began to hurt. He turned around and hugged her in a silent thank-you, wrapping his wings as well as his arms around her.
Hermione was feeling content just being held by him. As both were the only child in their families, neither ever had the sibling love that most brothers and sisters take for granted. They parted after a short moment, no feelings of awkwardness apparent, both smiling gently. Harry made his way over to his trunk, where he grabbed one of Dudley's old tank tops.
"Do you think that you could help me into this Hermione? The armholes should be big enough to accommodate both my arms and wings, but I don't think I could get it over them alone. It's just a little cold with only the front of a shirt and that flimsy robe to keep me warm."
Hermione took the article from him wordlessly, and when he stretched his wings behind him, she gently threaded them through the large holes in the extremely baggy tank top. Once it had gotten close enough for him to handle on his own, he folded his wings and threaded his arms and head through, pulling it down around his waist. The top was tight around his chest, having the armholes stretched to accommodate four of his six appendages. The bottom, however, pooled down around his thighs almost like a skirt. Dudley was NOT a small boy. Harry picked up his wand, muttering a few choice incantations under his breath at the errant fabric, shaping it to fit like a glove.
Harry walked over and sat on his bed, ruffling his wings subconsciously to align his feathers. Hermione sat next to him, absent mindedly stroking the back of his left wing while lost in thought.
The sensations that Harry felt from her stroking his wing were unexpected to put it mildly. His breathing quickly became labored and a light sheen of perspiration broke out on his forehead. He shut his eyes, biting back a moan as he felt himself becoming excited. He shuddered and groaned involuntarily and Hermione mistook his current state as one of pain.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry Harry, I just wasn't thinking, they still must be sensitive. After all, you only grew them this morning. Is there anything I can do?" She spoke so fast that in Harry's current state he barely made out the words.
"Just don't touch them again and for god's sake, if people find out about my wings, tell NO ONE what happens if you stroke them, okay?"
"Did it really hurt that badly Harry?" she asked in a meek voice, hiding most of her face behind her bushy hair and balled up fists.
"Hurt? No, no it.. Well yea, actually it hurt pretty badly. Just please don't touch them without permission again, okay?" He had quickly changed his mind, thinking that A.) It could only create an awkward situation were she to know the truth, and B.) The less people that knew about THIS particular trait, the better.
"I just seem to be making a mess of everything today," she sighed dejectedly, collapsing back onto the bed.
"Don't worry about it, 'Mione, It wasn't really that bad at all. Besides, I think that today is National 'Weird Shit' Day or something," he told her as he lay down next to her, his hands supporting his head while trying to make sure that his wings weren't being crushed. "Why don't we just hang out here until dinner. I'd like to let my wings breathe for a bit, and I'm sure that you're not quite ready to face the rest of the school yet either, are you?"
Hermione covered her face with her hands and groaned. "Oh god, the rest of the school. Can't I just crawl into a corner and die instead?"
Harry chuckled, to which she glared at him. He decided to change the subject. "So, were you enjoying Susan's little display at Herbology as much as I was?"
He looked over to her, only to find her avoiding eye contact with him. "Maybe" she whispered, slightly embarrassed.
"Then why did you throw that paper at me? I could have ogled all I wanted, and since everyone's attention was on me, so could you!"
"No, you forget that my girlfriend was at that table. Add to that the fact that since you and Ron were both staring, I couldn't help but to stare as well, and, well, I just HAD to stop you. Otherwise, someone might have caught me ogling her as well."
"You've got to admit, though, she does have really nice boobs." Harry replied cheekily, trying to get a rise out of her.
"MmmmmHmmmm," was the retort, shocking Harry so much that he fell off of his side of the bed with a 'Thump'.
He sat up, looking at her incredulously, and she grinned unrepentantly back at him. "You have no idea how nice it is not to have to guard what my mouth says anymore."
Harry sobered up, realizing that she had been living a lie for the entire time he had known her, pretending to be something that she wasn't. "Well, lets judge for ourselves if Ron actually did go blabbing to the school at large. For all we know, he might have thought that you just lied to let him down easily."
Hermione closed her eyes, whispering "I hope so."
Harry took her face in his hands, making her open her eyes so that he could look into them, trying to convey the truth about what he was to say with his eyes as much as his words. "No matter what, sister, you don't have to pretend when it's just you and I, okay?"
Her eyes actually teared up again, touched by how far Harry was going to make sure that she knew he still cared for her, and that nothing that mattered had changed. "Thank you," she whispered.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*
Harry and Hermione exited the dorm room and each took a deep breath, both preparing themselves to hide their secrets from the rest of the school. They entered the common room, which had emptied of people, and made their way down to the Great Hall for supper. As they entered the dining room, Hermione kept looking around for people whispering and sneaking glances at her, but everything seemed normal. Well, as normal as it had been at lunch, anyway. Harry would be the center of attention wherever he even thought of sitting, even getting four separate invites to join the Slytherin table.
Both looked up to find Ron sitting on the end of the Gryffindor table, closest to the teachers, and fuming mad. His face matched the color of his hair, and he looked ready to explode at a moment's warning. So ready, in fact, that no one sat within a five-foot radius of him.
Harry turned to Hermione. "Why don't we go sit with Luna? I really doubt that it would be beneficial to try and speak with Ron at the moment."
Hermione turned to him with wide, scared eyes, and whispered harshly to him; "Are you crazy? If we do that, everyone is going to find out about us!"
Harry touched her shoulder, trying to will some calm into her rigid being. "Relax, everyone knows that Luna is a friend of ours, and so far I've had offers to sit just about anywhere I would please. Besides, I need to apologize to Padma and Parvati about running away from them, and Padma seems like a good place to start."
Hermione's analytical mind processed the information and deemed it worthy of action. They made their way over to the Ravenclaw table, politely asking if they could sit. Padma moved over, an unreadable expression on her face to make room for Harry, and on the other side of the table Luna moved down with the same dreamy expression on her face that always seemed to be there.
'I have to make a mental note to ask 'Mione if she still behaves that way in private,' he thought to himself before turning to Padma. "Padma?" he whispered, trying to keep the conversation as private as possible in a room crowded with boisterous teenagers. She turned to face him, and he could literally feel the hurt in her expression.
"Look, I want to apologize for earlier," he began, tentatively at first but soon the words came rolling out. "I didn't mean to offend you and Parvati, but I panicked. I'm not used to being approached, and I couldn't handle it. I didn't mean any harm, honestly."
Her eyes misted over, and she looked as though she would burst into tears at any moment. "Are we too ugly for you Harry? Am I?" she pleaded, and the full effect of how dangerous Harry's new powers could be settled down as a sick feeling in Harry's stomach.
He took her face in-between his hands, as he did with Hermione earlier, projecting as much honesty as he could with his gaze. "Padma, you are gorgeous. Don't ever let yourself think otherwise. Just give me some time to get used to this. I'll let you know right now that any woman who is going to try and bed me in the first two minutes we are alone is not going to get very far at all. Give me a week or two, and then if you want to try again, try it RIGHT, we'll see what can be done, okay?"
Harry spoke vehemently, yet quiet enough so that no outsiders heard what was said. She nodded, looking much happier than before, yet still ashamed at how forward she was earlier. She turned her attention back to her plate, striking up a conversation with the person sitting on the opposite side of her as Harry, and so Harry turned his attention across the table to where Luna and Hermione were having an animated conversation on some abstract charms theory. Harry was lost after five seconds of listening.
Supper seemed to drag on and on, and Harry desperately regretted asking 'Mione to sit at the Ravenclaw table. While speaking with Padma was very, very important to him, she said not another word to him throughout the meal, not even looking at him. Luna and Hermione were so involved in each other, he doubted that they even remembered that he was there. The rest of the table, well, the girls were staring suggestively at him, which he was slowly becoming used to, however the boys seemed to notice this, and were not very happy with him about it.
He spotted Parvati rise and begin walking back to the common room, alone, her body posture dejected. He politely made his excuses and rose, following her out.
Once he was sure that they were out of hearing range of anyone from the Hall, he quietly got her attention. He reached out and gently touched her shoulder, causing her to yelp in surprise and fright.
Well, at least the TRIED to quietly get her attention.
After he had calmed her down, which involved many soothing gestures and profuse apologizing, he managed to convince her to let him explain why he had run off from her and her sister earlier.
He led her into a nearby classroom, then locked and silenced the door.
"Look, Parvati, I've already had this talk with your sister, so I'll make this as clear as possible, seeing as how I don't want a repeat of THAT particular conversation."
"I haven't ever been paid much attention to by women until recently. When you and she cornered me in the classroom, I panicked, having no frame of reference for what was happening, and therefore ran. Yes, you are a very attractive person, and yes, given a little more experience, I probably wouldn't have run. This has absolutely nothing to do with how I feel about you personally, it is just something that I have to deal with. Give me a week or two, and we'll see how things shape up, okay?"
"Is this some kind of let down, Harry? You don't think that I am good enough for you?"
Harry, exhausted, aching, and emotionally drained, had by this point had enough. "Look, if you don't believe me, go ask Hermione. She knows me better than almost anyone alive, and will confirm everything I've just told you. I've just about bloody had it with everyone thinking that they are somehow not good enough for something or another. Good night, Parvati. I hope you feel differently tomorrow."
Turning without a backward glance, he stalked the rest of the way back to his tower and his bed, his cloak billowing out behind him in an angry swirl.
Harry dragged his tired body to bed, vowing to eat an early breakfast, skip lunch, and have a late dinner in the kitchens long after everyone was in their respective common rooms from now on. Avoiding large crowds were he would face the wrath of pissed-off boyfriends just became his top priority.
He walked into the dorms, seeing all of his year mates sitting on their beds talking. The instant Ron saw him, however, he stopped talking, swung his legs onto his bed, and closed his curtains, effectively shutting himself off from the rest of the room.
An uncomfortable silence descended in the room, with Harry staring at Ron's bed from his place in the open doorway, and Neville, Seamus, and Dean nervously looking at each other. Harry shook his head, pulled his wand from his cloak pocket, and muttered a silencing charm directed at Ron's curtains, effectively preventing him from overhearing anything that was said.
Harry shut the door, casting the same silencing charm on the room, before posing a question. "Do any of you know why Ron is pissed at me THIS week?" He asked with no malice, only resignation, and perhaps it was no fear of retribution that made his fellow Gryffindors answer him.
"We honestly don't know, Harry," Dean finally volunteered. "Usually when Ron gets angry about something, he is extremely vocal about it. All we know is that he had a private talk with Hermione up here, then left in a rage less than five minutes later. Then you came up, locked the door, and spent hours up here with her before supper." Here Seamus picked up the story. "After Ron left though, he didn't say a word to anyone about it. He was actually acting normally until you walked in. Sorry Harry, can't help you out this time, mate."
"Just bloody perfect" he growled, picking up the undertone that said Harry had stolen 'Mione from Ron. He uncharmed the room, then Ron's bed, before falling into his own, fully clothed, not willing to expose his wings in front of the uninformed. He tossed and turned, having trouble catching the sandman with his wings uncomfortably mashed against his torso.
Two hours later, he finally drifted off to sleep, the last thought on his mind being: 'I hate Mondays'.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*
Harry awoke, early in the morning, to an unfamiliar weight resting on his right pec, his right arm uncomfortably numb, and a second weight resting on his upper right thigh.
He groggily opened his eyes, to find an unfamiliar mass of blonde hair tickling his nostrils.
He closed his eyes and set his head back down on the pillow, bringing up his free hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes before the information finally processed.
He sat upright rigidly, unending the woman curled up on his side. He looked down to the semi-familiar face of a seventh-year, one whom he had seen in passing but never actually talked to.
"What," he growled, "the fuck are you doing in my bed?"