A/N: The title of this fic and some of the general ideas behind it are from "Bad" by the lovely band U2.
Disclaimer: Obviously the characters, props, and setting aren't mine and no profit is being made.
Wide Awake by ChocolateFrogsForBreakfast
"Looks like he's out," Hermione heard Ron's quiet voice from across the table. She shifted her gaze from her Ancient Runes book to the person beside her. Harry's arms were resting on his open book and had become his pillow; his eyes were peacefully closed. Hermione smiled slightly as she watched his back rise and fall gently.
Ron checked his watch, closed his book softly and said in a low voice, "It's a little past one o'clock. Seems like he's the one with the right idea." He stood up slowly stretching his stiff muscles and began to gather his things. "Want me to wake him?"
Hermione glanced at Ron, shook her head and whispered, "Just let him sleep. He's only been out of hospital for a week now. I'm worried all this late night revising for N.E.W.T.s is really too much."
Ron nodded and said softly with a wry smile, "You'd think the person who defeated Voldemort a month ago would just automatically be given an 'Outstanding' on the tests but I guess that's not the way it works."
Hermione smiled back and shrugged. "Guess not. See you in the morning, then."
"'Night." Ron pressed his hand softly to her shoulder as he walked past.
Hermione watched as Ron made his way to the stairs then turned her attention back to Harry. 'Only a few more weeks 'til graduation—only a few more weeks together...' Hermione thought and her heart sank a bit.
She had so hoped...dreamed that after the war was over, Harry would somehow realize and return her feelings. In the past two years, Hermione had not let on to anyone how she felt. She had told herself that Harry couldn't afford distractions in his efforts to train for the battle ahead. She also was scared—no, terrified—that he wouldn't return her feelings and that this relationship she cherished above all others would become something awkward as a result.
Then the battle had come. Sooner than they had expected. Hermione had sprinted out of the castle with the others into the fray. The fighting was intense and several were quickly lost. At some point Hermione realized that she had lost sight of Harry. A quick scan of the muddy grounds let her know that he was no longer fighting with them. She fought her way over to Ron but he didn't know where Harry was either. Just then, in an explosion of green light, Neville fell to a Death Eater and Hermione and Ron ran to take up the fight. It was all over not much longer after that and when the smoke settled, the survivors were faced with their injured and lost. Many were gone. Neville, Hannah, Colin, Lavender, Seamus and Professor Snape among them. Hermione had frantically questioned the others about Harry's whereabouts and a several search parties were sent into the forest. When Harry had been carried unconscious but alive from among the trees after defeating Voldemort, she had shrieked his name in joy and promptly fainted.
The trio had been almost inseparable since that horrible but triumphant day. Hermione had sat with Ron by Harry's bedside in the infirmary as much as possible until he was released a few weeks later. They had begun to study in earnest as N.E.W.T.s loomed. Every now and then, Harry would catch Hermione looking at him and smile his easy smile. Hermione would try to smile back nonchalantly but usually ended up ducking her head back to her books as her cheeks warmed. Sometimes, she fancied that she had caught him staring at her but by the time she looked him fully in the face, he appeared to be engrossed in his notes or lost in thought looking in a slightly different direction.
Hermione had buoyed her heart during the time before the war by telling herself that Harry was just completely overtaken by the challenge that faced him—his mind was totally occupied by the struggle to defeat Voldemort. No time—no room for those kinds of feelings then. But now...she had no reason, not one sign from Harry, to believe that she would ever be anything to him but his best friend.
Hermione sighed softly and tried to refocus her attention back to her book but realized after a few seconds it was futile. She couldn't concentrate now with the thoughts and memories that were playing through her mind. Unable to stop herself, she lifted her eyes to Harry's face again. He had changed so much since their first meeting on the Hogwarts Express seven years ago. Hermione remembered the little boy with dark hair and glasses; a look of apprehensive anticipation filling his face as though he knew something wonderful awaited him but was afraid someone would yank it from him at any moment.
At first sight on that train, Hermione couldn't believe that this was 'The Harry Potter' that she had read about in her books. She had imagined "The-Boy-Who-Lived" to be someone quite different from whom she'd happened upon that day. Someone with an ego to match his fame. But instead, she'd found a boy who was tentatively finding his way through this new world much in the same way she was. Hermione sighed. He'd had no idea then what that world would expect of him—how it would turn on him so many times.
Hermione's gaze lingered on the new scars that Voldemort had given him then lastly came to rest on the one that had started it all. To her, those marks did nothing to mar the handsomeness of his face. They only told the story of the courage and selflessness that lay beneath his skin. She saw the line of his nose, slightly crooked thanks to his insufferable cousin and this only reminded her of his indomitable spirit and perseverance. Her eyes lingered on his lips. So many times she'd wondered how they would feel against hers; what it would be like to hear them say the words she'd longed to hear...
Hermione felt tears stinging in her eyes, blurring her vision slightly as her gaze rested on his hair. His lovely midnight black hair. Sometimes when the sun shone on it, it looked as though blue flames raced through it. Tonight in the common room however, the warm firelight gilded his untidy mop. She had wondered how it would feel to bury her fingers in it. Hermione's eyes widened as she saw one of her hands seemingly move of its own volition—reaching toward his hair. Before she could stop herself, she had smoothed some wayward strands from his face. 'How soft...' Her fingers continued to glide through his hair as her eyes welled up in sadness at the loss of her hopes.
"Let it go, Hermione," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling.
Hermione was startled from her thoughts as Harry's hand suddenly closed over hers. She gasped and saw his green eyes gazing intently at her then narrowing slightly when he noticed her tears.
"Let what go, Hermione?" He said softly, lifting his head.
She tore her eyes away from his and sprang from her chair, frantically trying to gather her things with her free hand while attempting to wrench her other hand from his grasp. To her consternation, Hermione felt her tears begin to spill over their bounds as Harry stood up quickly beside her, still firmly clutching her hand.
"Hermione—"
"Please," she whispered in a tremulous voice, ducking her head and still struggling to free her hand. "Please let me go."
"Not until—"
"Please...I'm sorry I woke you...I didn't mean t—"
"Hang on—Hermione, would you quit that—I wasn't asleep. I was waiting and then you began to do that to my hair...and it...felt really good so I just kept my eyes closed. But then I heard you and...I-I wasn't asleep like you thought I was."
"You...what?" She frowned as her struggling lessened but she continued to gather her things.
"I wasn't asleep...I was waiting for Ron to leave—waiting to make sure he didn't come back for anything."
Hermione lifted her watery eyes to his, confused. "What do you mean?"
"I was waiting...I wanted to be alone with you—I need to talk with you." Harry's eyes were pleading with her to stay.
Hermione became very still and felt something move through her like the first rays of sunlight through the chilly morning air. "Why?" She turned fully toward him and unconsciously let her hand relax in his.
Harry hesitated and glanced down at their joined hands but then brought his eyes back to search hers for a long moment. "Hermione, I need to talk with you about..." She felt his hand tremble. Harry let out a shaky breath then went on, "I've been thinking...and feeling...things...I'm not used to where you're concerned." The last part came out in a rush. Harry briefly closed his eyes, swallowed audibly and tried again. "Hermione, I don't want to be friends with you anymore."
"What?"
"No!" Harry said hastily and swore under his breath. "That didn't come out right." He took a deep breath and reached for her other hand. "Hermione...I want to be...more to you than a friend. I've become aware of some feelings for you that...well, I've realized they aren't anything like friendship." He stopped and shook his head in frustration. "This isn't how I wanted this to go...am I making any sense to you at all?"
Hermione stood stock-still and stared at him not daring to believe...
"Okay..." Harry said, impatient with himself, "let's try this then." He leaned down and touched his lips softly to hers. It took her a second but then her lips began to respond to his. She felt his hands let go of hers then slide around her waist pulling her close as her hands crept into his hair. After a long moment, they pulled apart slowly, each looking shyly into the other's eyes searching for the answers they both wanted.
Harry broke the silence. "Do you...do you feel the same way, then?"
Hermione tried to mop the tears from her eyes with her fingertips and nodded. "For a while now."
Harry brought his other hand up and gently brushed her tears away with his fingers. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long."
"I've a lovely feeling it's going to have been quite worth the wait," Hermione whispered, lifting her lips back to his as she wound her arms around him as his slid back around her. She furtively pinched her arm behind his back just to make sure (unaware that he was doing the very same thing)...then her lips curved against his.
Disclaimer: Obviously the characters, props, and setting aren't mine and no profit is being made.
Wide Awake by ChocolateFrogsForBreakfast
"Looks like he's out," Hermione heard Ron's quiet voice from across the table. She shifted her gaze from her Ancient Runes book to the person beside her. Harry's arms were resting on his open book and had become his pillow; his eyes were peacefully closed. Hermione smiled slightly as she watched his back rise and fall gently.
Ron checked his watch, closed his book softly and said in a low voice, "It's a little past one o'clock. Seems like he's the one with the right idea." He stood up slowly stretching his stiff muscles and began to gather his things. "Want me to wake him?"
Hermione glanced at Ron, shook her head and whispered, "Just let him sleep. He's only been out of hospital for a week now. I'm worried all this late night revising for N.E.W.T.s is really too much."
Ron nodded and said softly with a wry smile, "You'd think the person who defeated Voldemort a month ago would just automatically be given an 'Outstanding' on the tests but I guess that's not the way it works."
Hermione smiled back and shrugged. "Guess not. See you in the morning, then."
"'Night." Ron pressed his hand softly to her shoulder as he walked past.
Hermione watched as Ron made his way to the stairs then turned her attention back to Harry. 'Only a few more weeks 'til graduation—only a few more weeks together...' Hermione thought and her heart sank a bit.
She had so hoped...dreamed that after the war was over, Harry would somehow realize and return her feelings. In the past two years, Hermione had not let on to anyone how she felt. She had told herself that Harry couldn't afford distractions in his efforts to train for the battle ahead. She also was scared—no, terrified—that he wouldn't return her feelings and that this relationship she cherished above all others would become something awkward as a result.
Then the battle had come. Sooner than they had expected. Hermione had sprinted out of the castle with the others into the fray. The fighting was intense and several were quickly lost. At some point Hermione realized that she had lost sight of Harry. A quick scan of the muddy grounds let her know that he was no longer fighting with them. She fought her way over to Ron but he didn't know where Harry was either. Just then, in an explosion of green light, Neville fell to a Death Eater and Hermione and Ron ran to take up the fight. It was all over not much longer after that and when the smoke settled, the survivors were faced with their injured and lost. Many were gone. Neville, Hannah, Colin, Lavender, Seamus and Professor Snape among them. Hermione had frantically questioned the others about Harry's whereabouts and a several search parties were sent into the forest. When Harry had been carried unconscious but alive from among the trees after defeating Voldemort, she had shrieked his name in joy and promptly fainted.
The trio had been almost inseparable since that horrible but triumphant day. Hermione had sat with Ron by Harry's bedside in the infirmary as much as possible until he was released a few weeks later. They had begun to study in earnest as N.E.W.T.s loomed. Every now and then, Harry would catch Hermione looking at him and smile his easy smile. Hermione would try to smile back nonchalantly but usually ended up ducking her head back to her books as her cheeks warmed. Sometimes, she fancied that she had caught him staring at her but by the time she looked him fully in the face, he appeared to be engrossed in his notes or lost in thought looking in a slightly different direction.
Hermione had buoyed her heart during the time before the war by telling herself that Harry was just completely overtaken by the challenge that faced him—his mind was totally occupied by the struggle to defeat Voldemort. No time—no room for those kinds of feelings then. But now...she had no reason, not one sign from Harry, to believe that she would ever be anything to him but his best friend.
Hermione sighed softly and tried to refocus her attention back to her book but realized after a few seconds it was futile. She couldn't concentrate now with the thoughts and memories that were playing through her mind. Unable to stop herself, she lifted her eyes to Harry's face again. He had changed so much since their first meeting on the Hogwarts Express seven years ago. Hermione remembered the little boy with dark hair and glasses; a look of apprehensive anticipation filling his face as though he knew something wonderful awaited him but was afraid someone would yank it from him at any moment.
At first sight on that train, Hermione couldn't believe that this was 'The Harry Potter' that she had read about in her books. She had imagined "The-Boy-Who-Lived" to be someone quite different from whom she'd happened upon that day. Someone with an ego to match his fame. But instead, she'd found a boy who was tentatively finding his way through this new world much in the same way she was. Hermione sighed. He'd had no idea then what that world would expect of him—how it would turn on him so many times.
Hermione's gaze lingered on the new scars that Voldemort had given him then lastly came to rest on the one that had started it all. To her, those marks did nothing to mar the handsomeness of his face. They only told the story of the courage and selflessness that lay beneath his skin. She saw the line of his nose, slightly crooked thanks to his insufferable cousin and this only reminded her of his indomitable spirit and perseverance. Her eyes lingered on his lips. So many times she'd wondered how they would feel against hers; what it would be like to hear them say the words she'd longed to hear...
Hermione felt tears stinging in her eyes, blurring her vision slightly as her gaze rested on his hair. His lovely midnight black hair. Sometimes when the sun shone on it, it looked as though blue flames raced through it. Tonight in the common room however, the warm firelight gilded his untidy mop. She had wondered how it would feel to bury her fingers in it. Hermione's eyes widened as she saw one of her hands seemingly move of its own volition—reaching toward his hair. Before she could stop herself, she had smoothed some wayward strands from his face. 'How soft...' Her fingers continued to glide through his hair as her eyes welled up in sadness at the loss of her hopes.
"Let it go, Hermione," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling.
Hermione was startled from her thoughts as Harry's hand suddenly closed over hers. She gasped and saw his green eyes gazing intently at her then narrowing slightly when he noticed her tears.
"Let what go, Hermione?" He said softly, lifting his head.
She tore her eyes away from his and sprang from her chair, frantically trying to gather her things with her free hand while attempting to wrench her other hand from his grasp. To her consternation, Hermione felt her tears begin to spill over their bounds as Harry stood up quickly beside her, still firmly clutching her hand.
"Hermione—"
"Please," she whispered in a tremulous voice, ducking her head and still struggling to free her hand. "Please let me go."
"Not until—"
"Please...I'm sorry I woke you...I didn't mean t—"
"Hang on—Hermione, would you quit that—I wasn't asleep. I was waiting and then you began to do that to my hair...and it...felt really good so I just kept my eyes closed. But then I heard you and...I-I wasn't asleep like you thought I was."
"You...what?" She frowned as her struggling lessened but she continued to gather her things.
"I wasn't asleep...I was waiting for Ron to leave—waiting to make sure he didn't come back for anything."
Hermione lifted her watery eyes to his, confused. "What do you mean?"
"I was waiting...I wanted to be alone with you—I need to talk with you." Harry's eyes were pleading with her to stay.
Hermione became very still and felt something move through her like the first rays of sunlight through the chilly morning air. "Why?" She turned fully toward him and unconsciously let her hand relax in his.
Harry hesitated and glanced down at their joined hands but then brought his eyes back to search hers for a long moment. "Hermione, I need to talk with you about..." She felt his hand tremble. Harry let out a shaky breath then went on, "I've been thinking...and feeling...things...I'm not used to where you're concerned." The last part came out in a rush. Harry briefly closed his eyes, swallowed audibly and tried again. "Hermione, I don't want to be friends with you anymore."
"What?"
"No!" Harry said hastily and swore under his breath. "That didn't come out right." He took a deep breath and reached for her other hand. "Hermione...I want to be...more to you than a friend. I've become aware of some feelings for you that...well, I've realized they aren't anything like friendship." He stopped and shook his head in frustration. "This isn't how I wanted this to go...am I making any sense to you at all?"
Hermione stood stock-still and stared at him not daring to believe...
"Okay..." Harry said, impatient with himself, "let's try this then." He leaned down and touched his lips softly to hers. It took her a second but then her lips began to respond to his. She felt his hands let go of hers then slide around her waist pulling her close as her hands crept into his hair. After a long moment, they pulled apart slowly, each looking shyly into the other's eyes searching for the answers they both wanted.
Harry broke the silence. "Do you...do you feel the same way, then?"
Hermione tried to mop the tears from her eyes with her fingertips and nodded. "For a while now."
Harry brought his other hand up and gently brushed her tears away with his fingers. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long."
"I've a lovely feeling it's going to have been quite worth the wait," Hermione whispered, lifting her lips back to his as she wound her arms around him as his slid back around her. She furtively pinched her arm behind his back just to make sure (unaware that he was doing the very same thing)...then her lips curved against his.