Thanks for all the reviews I have had so far. It has been truly great. I suspect this is the penultimate chapter, though I'm not certain. I would like to say I was particularly impressed when "the original meathead" managed to submit a review for chapter five within fifteen minutes of me putting it up…
I was debating to myself wether to finish the story the paragraphs earlier than I have. Both would leave it at a cliff hanger, and I suppose I could have had a chapter 2 paragraphs long…. Though that would be silly.
Anyway here you go, please enjoy.
The play was going better than Hermione had hoped. She got a few of her lines muddled up, although since the actors seemed to be making it up as they went along, there was no harm in this.
"But what of the dragon?" She could say, and a few moments later two people would come along dressed as a dragon. Harry however got nothing wrong it seemed. She marvelled at his acting skills, though her opinion was a little biased, given the whole love issue and everything.
Hermione was trying to steer the play into a direction where she was the damsel in distress and Harry would need to rescue her. The other actors seemed more than happy to go in this direction, as few audiences liked anything better than a love story. Hermione of course was not shallow enough to believe that it meant Harry would actually like her, should anything happen (and she desperately hoped it would). It was merely a fact that boys have simple minds and often struggle with the concept that reality and fiction aren't the same. If she could make his character love hers then he might just start loving her…
The crowd seemed larger than it had before, though this was half due to the fact that it was now staring at them intently. Hundreds of pairs of eyes upon you could make you gulp.
"Step aside for I mean you no harm. Stand your place however and I shall cut you down." Harry yelled as he pointed a sword at a fat bald man who was blocking their imaginary path up to the great castle of the evil lord. It wasn't a real sword, though it still looked sharp enough to cut.
Hermione watched on in awe as Harry engaged in a stage battle with the bald man. At first the man had been going easy on Harry, though still trying to make it look convincing. A moment into it however as Harry slapped the flat of his sword across the man's backside he realised he was not dealing with the usual Hogwarts student. In order to win his fight against Voldemort Harry had been trained in dozens of forms of combat, including Muggle weapons from all ages. He was an adept wizard, as well as swordsman, sharpshooter and gunslinger.
Half an hour later and Hermione had been kidnapped by evil henchmen whilst Harry engaged in fierce battle. She didn't mind this, as she would hopefully get to hug him when he rescued her. Also hopefully more, though she didn't want to be disappointed. She was a little bit put out that he didn't put up more of a battle to rescue her. He only pretended to kill one man before turning to his companions and declaring they needed to regroup.
The play went on smoothly, with only an occasional fault in the story which was only found after a careful examination. Finally after another fifteen minutes it was coming to a close. Harry and his companions had stormed the castle, set free the abducted girls and women, and all that was left now was to kill king Gerrard, and untie her from his bed where she was held. It was an exciting battle; as good as from any movie she could remember seeing (she had never watched terminator). They both fought, moving backwards and forwards in turn as the other one pushed on.
Harry looked like he was about to end the battle as his blows quickened, each one striking with precision causing his foes to wobble in his hand, or go pointing in completely the wrong direction. As he was about to do this though king Gerrard reached to his belt and pulled out a knife which he thrust up, missing his body but slashing Harry's arm, causing him to drop his sword.
Harry's arm bled profusely, as he clasped onto it with his other hand, squashing the fake blood pack he had been given earlier. He ended the battle however, as he lay on the floor in certain fake death, when he managed to swing his leg round and knock the king onto his back, before quickly springing up himself, and brandishing the remnants of a wooden coat rack.
"It's time to say goodnight." Harry said as he raised the pointed stick straight above him, and drove it into the man's body like an enormous spike. Many people gasped at this for they did not realise it was a projection charm that entire scene and the actor had still been safely hidden away in the tent.
"I have done it." Harry called as he turned to Hermione who in actual fact was lying on nothing more than two wooden boxes with a blanket on. "For my strength and my courage I owe but my love, for it was that which caused me to fight true and strong. You are safe once again, my darling, my sweetest." Harry said as he mimed undoing the ropes.
Hermione's heart fluttered as Harry was poised over her. He was straddling her, with his knees either side of her hips. She hoped it would be something like this one day, though without the uncomfortable boxes and the clothes and the two hundred odd people watching. She readied her lips for if Harry was to truly play the part of the noble knight then he would have to kiss her now. He looked like he was contemplating it, and Hermione tried to give her most neutral look possible, neither to dissuade him, or make it seem like she wanted it.
She was so tempted to reach out and pull him down onto her, but even the slightest movement in that direction would have been a fatal mistake on her part. Harry looked at her questioningly, as members of the crowd shouted what to do.
"Kiss her." A woman yelled.
"And some tongue." A voice yelled, that sounded a little bit like Ron.
"Take her clothes off…" Shouted one man who was getting a little carried away.
Hermione gave the smallest of shrugs.
Harry hesitated for a minute before slowly lowering his head. Hermione could feel the blood rising in her body as her face flushed from embarrassment and excitement, anticipation and impatience. Harry's sword was digging into her, but she didn't mind, she wanted that to always be the case, she decided, though she would never admit it to anyone other than herself.
Harry's face was just inches form hers and she could smell his breath. It was warm, yet cool and minty at the same time. It caused the hairs on the back of her neck to rise, and she hoped Harry couldn't see the goose bumps he had brought about on her arms and her chest. Hermione stared back into his eyes, emerald green and shimmering in wonder, as he looked into hers, full of undistinguishable lust. He lowered his head just a few inches towards her, as she raised her head forward a little, Her lips were slightly parted, as were his, both so close to each others they could touch with the slightest of movements.
A moments silence passed between them, as in some far off part of the world their tumbleweed blew by.
"Gee this is awkward isn't it?" Harry said with a small laugh as he moved his head slightly to the side. Hermione tried to turn her head, to catch his lips, but he moved to quickly, and instead he kissed her cheek. Hermione's cheek burned under his touch, before he quickly withdrew. To the crowd it looked as though they had kissed, at least gently, and there was cheering all around.
Hermione had to hold back a sob as all her hopes were dashed to pieces. The moment was over and his face was now moving away from hers. It was in this moment of extreme emotions that Hermione did something utterly stupid and totally permanent. Harry was about to climb off of her, already he was turning his head away. It was at this point that she raised her head forwards, opened her mouth, and licked his face.
