Disclaimer: The plot belongs to moi. Characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Song belongs to Emerson Drive.
A/N: I think it's fun to sometimes go out on a limb. You know…against all reason and ships that you are ever-so-faithful to. So this is pretty much my first H/Hr Story, but I sort of like it. It's cute fluff sorta. Okay..well…not really. But some of it is. I wrote this in a span of one or two days and I just decided to put it up. Review w/Whatever. Flames are generously accepted. They will be used when I huff and puff and burn your house down.
Summary: "You know what? You're scared." He said. "Me? Scared? What is there to be scared of? We've been through everything-fighting Voldemort, fatal potions, the war-" she answered without missing a beat. "You're scared because this might be real-you and me." the boy replied, staring into her eyes.
Can You Believe in Us?
He stood at the top of the steps to his dormitory looking down into the common room. A girl sat with her nose in a book. Her arms were crossed and the red velvet couch on which she was seated was in front of the fire. He took the steps two at a time. When he reached the common room, though, his stomach flipped and churned with realization about what he was about to have to say. The boy of sixteen with raven hair and bottle-green eyes sat down gingerly beside Hermione Granger. She glanced at him nonchalantly and returned to her reading.
Harry Potter took a deep breath and turned to face Hermione. She set her book down and looked at him with her brown orbs. The sixteen-year-old girl arched an eyebrow as she turned to face him as well. "Yes Harry?" she said in a business like manner that was not at all her usual self when talking to her friends.
"What do you expect me do?!" Harry cried suddenly, frightening Hermione slightly. "What Hermione?! Do you want me to pretend like it didn't happen? Pretend that everything happened as planned last night? What do you want me to do?"
Hermione turned away from Harry to face the fire. She licked her lips and bit her bottom one, a sign she was thinking hard about what to say. "Six years," she whispered, barely audible. "Six years and one month, to be exact," her brown curls hung in her face and Harry had to stop himself from pulling them back and tucking them behind her ears. "What happened?" Hermione asked as she continued to stare at the fire.
"I…I don't know."
"Harry, we've been best friends for six years. Why now?"
Harry looked at Hermione and arched an eyebrow. "Hey," he said. "It's not like I woke up and said to myself, 'Hmm…I think I'll go and fall in love with my best friend today!'" Harry told Hermione, almost offensively.
"Well…you haven't," Harry's head shot up as her words pierced him. "Come on, Harry, you can't be in love with me. I mean-we're best friends. We couldn't- we can't be anything more. That's just the way it is."
"You know what?" Harry's voice rose as he turned her to face him. His forehead was almost touching hers. "You're scared."
"Me? Scared? What is there to be scared of Harry? We've been through everything-fighting Voldemort, fatal potions, the war-"
"I'll tell you why you're scared," Harry's voice lowered as he felt his forehead touch her soft skin. Oh how he longed to kiss her, to feel her hands around his neck, to taste the sweetness of her kiss. "Because this might be real. You and me. Because this is something you can't find in your books. This is something that you have to find in your heart. And you're scared of that, Hermione. You're dead scared."
Hermione pulled away and tried to laugh. "Harry, please…reality check? We're sixteen, we can't possibly-"
"Exactly…we're sixteen. This is supposed to be the best year of your life. This is the time where we take chances, risks. This is the time in our lives where we start to live, Hermione. Sixteen. You're sixteen. I'm sixteen. Come on…"
"What are you talking about? I'm living…see? I'm breathing in air and walking around, bloody hell, I'm talking to you and-"
Harry resisted the urge to kiss some sense into her. The smartest witch in their year couldn't see beyond her books, she couldn't see in her heart. "Hermione. Why are you trying to get around this? You…You must have felt something last night. Something. In…in fact, I…I know you did, because you didn't pull away. I felt it. I know you did too. I don't understand. You don't understand. What is there to loose?"
"So much Harry," Oh I do not want to do this…there's no way I can tell him what happened last summer. Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears. "When you kissed me last night…It was terrible because I couldn't get him out of my head. Contrary to what I've told you before, Harry, you're not the first guy I've ever kissed. And I don't want to be hurt again," She pressed her finger to Harry's objecting mouth. "I know, I know, 'I'm your best friend, I would never hurt you.' I've gotten that line before. And you know where it got me? Drunk and alone. This past summer was horrible." Hermione looked at Harry. He nodded for her to continue, but she shook her head. "I can't tell you. I've never relived it-never told anyone-not even my own parents. And you're no different. I'll give you the basics: I was spending the last few weeks of summer at my best friend's house. I started to fall for him and when I realized he felt the same, we became an 'item'. We went for a walk, harmless, right? Not. We ended up at a club…we went in and, well…my parents had just been murdered in June and I decided a few shots wouldn't hurt."
Hermione sighed and Harry put a comforting arm around her. He moved closer to her, but she didn't seem to notice. Hermione seemed to be lost in a memory Harry Potter would never know to the full extent-but she was reliving it-right there…and he could do nothing. It broke his heart as she continued. "I guess I'm not much of an alcoholic. I just don't have the stomach for it. About half an hour and seven shots later, I guess I passed out. When I woke up, I was lying on a couch in a house I didn't recognize. When I finally came to and could stand up, there was a man standing above me. It was Professor Lupin. He offered me a cup of tea and I drank it. It must have had a potion in it, because I felt absolutely fine after that. He gave me a piece of chocolate, I thanked him profusely and left to find my friend to ask him to tell me what happened. When I got to his house, he told me we were over because…well…he never really told me."
"Hermione." Harry breathed quietly.
"And that's why I'm scared of this."
"Hermione…I'm not him…can't you give me a chance?"
"Harry," Hermione started, breathing heavily, "It's not just that, it's also because…you know what you were saying earlier…about me being scared because this is real?" Harry nodded. "You're right."
You say you've turned it off
Hid your heart upon a shelf
Scared of what it might cost
To take it down for someone else
Cause lovin' him you lost
Too much of yourself
Baby can't you see
That he's not me?
The day passed quickly with only a few minor mishaps such as Ron 'misplacing' his potions essay and Harry 'accidentally' leaving his ingredients for Potions in his dormitory, earning each ten points from Gryffindor. When the day was over, Harry was quick to ditch Ron for 'homework', aka Hermione. His conscience nagged him constantly-both for lying to his best friend and keeping from his best friend his relationship with Hermione. He used the term lightly.
"Solarium." Harry told the painting of a prince and princess standing in front of a castle. It was perfect- a fairytale. Harry shook his head, remembering how he always hated when Dudley watched the fairy-tale movies. He had always known Dudley was very in touch with his feminine side, but Harry believed Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty were taking it a bit far. But the real reason Harry hated the stories was because they all ended, 'Happily ever after'. A small raven-haired child had laughed when he was younger when the movie ended and the book closed and the page said 'And they all lived happily ever after. The End.' Harry shook his head of these unpleasant memories and realized the painting had swung open and shut again. "Solarium." Harry repeated. The prince and princess were obviously not thrilled about him interrupting their heart-to-heart and had no problem disguising it. They started to scold him as he walked through the opening.
The room was empty of persons, as only he and Hermione used the room. There was one sofa, a desk and chair, and a bookcase. The sofa was checkered with red and gold, Gryffindor colors, and the desk was a deep mahogany. The chair was velvet gold. The chair looked comfortable, but Harry opted for the couch. It was a simple room, one Hermione had found in her third year. She used it to think, to study, just to sit, and occasionally teach herself new charms, potions, and spells.
The room was on ground level and had the most amazing view of everything. Harry wondered from time to time if his clever witch had enchanted the window to see the whole of the Hogwarts Grounds.
The first thing that came to sight was the lake. It was dotted sporadically with trees along the bank. Though the trees were leafless, Harry admitted it was a breath-taking sight. The snow-topped mountains could be seen in the distance if one concentrated hard enough. Harry marveled occasionally why the lake never froze over in the dead of winter. He supposed it had a heating charm and put that on his list of 'Questions to Ask Hermione if I Ever Get Bored'.
Next to the lake, Hagrid's Hut stood covered in snow just as his pumpkins had been. The Quidditch pitch greeted Harry next. It was the most relieving sight Harry had seen in ages. He smiled slightly.
"Ready to be out there again, aren't you?" Hermione's soft voice came from behind him. He hadn't heard her enter, but there she stood, hands on Harry's shoulder.
Harry jumped slightly, but smiled at her warm hands touching him. "More than ever," Harry sighed. "Hermione, we…we need to talk." Hermione's brown eyes were filled with questions.
The raven-headed boy took one last look out of the window and turned to her. He rose and walked to the sofa. He sat down and motioned for Hermione to sit beside him. They faced each other and Harry's breath caught in his throat. "Hermione, you're beautiful," the girl's cheeks flushed red at his words. Harry turned around as his legs touched the soft carpet. She laid her head on his shoulder and his arm was around her almost protectively. "Hermione-I know that the other night we…well…we sort of decided that we would take a chance on us." Harry's hands twirled her soft, straight hair as he spoke. "And now…I'm scared too." He admitted quietly.
"What do we do now?" Hermione whispered.
"I don't know…But I need you to know that I'm here for you-whatever you need-whatever's going on-I need you to know that I'll be here for you-always."
And I need you to know
You can fall into me
That my arms are wide open
And will always be
Right here waiting staying strong
Come and fall into me
"Whatever happens, we'll get through it, okay?" Harry continued. "I'll do anything for you. Hermione, I've never felt this way about anything or anyone in my life."
I'll follow any road
Anywhere to get to you
I'll open up my soul
If that's what you need me to do
Now baby it's your move
All you've got to do is believe in love
Just believe in us
Harry looked at her brown orbs. She was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The glow from the fire illuminated her face and Harry was breathless.
Hermione smiled up at him. She kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sorry Harry, for everything. I really am willing to try this-that is, if you are."
"Hermione, I've known you for a long time. We've never felt this way before, so why ignore it and pretend like it didn't happen? It could be the best thing that's ever happened to us. Hermione-you're the most beautiful witch in the world. You're smart, you're clever, and you're witty. Hermione, you make me feel like I can fly. We've always been there for each other as friends. Let's try to be there for each other as something more."
Hermione nodded slowly. Harry looked at her and smiled. They leaned in and Harry captured her soft, pink lips with his. She tasted like strawberries and smelled like them as well. He played with her hair as he kissed her.
She was now on her back and Harry was on top of her. Her hands explored his chest. It was toned and muscular, like it had been chiseled by the most skilful artist in the world. It was without a doubt the body of a Quidditch player. Her hand went to his neck and pulled him closer. Harry's hair was mussed as Hermione began to twirl the hair at the back of his neck.
They pulled away, each needing air, and Harry looked at the girl below him. "Hermione?" he breathed.
"Huh?" she answered at the same volume.
"Would it be okay if I told you I loved you?"
Hermione smiled slightly and pulled him down to kiss her again. As she kissed over his face, Harry's words were undoubted. "Just believe in us, okay?."