A/N: You might not like the way this chapter turns out, but it is how I see it. The rate of said relationships are rather hastened. I believe the quality and the plot flows nicely. Enjoy.
Chapter 4: Oh! How Love Blinds Thee Eye, And Twists Thy Truth.
The hot water warmed her immediately, as she stepped foot in the shower. She sighed contently, the pleasure of real warmth finally consuming her. She felt an enormous wave of satisfaction hit her deep within her chest. What was up with these mood swings? She began to wash her hair; her hands making their way through her wild tresses. She conditioned and rinsed followed by some fantastic apple body wash. Another way of…pleasure…hit her, nearly making her fall to her knees. What the hell was going on? She rinsed off even quicker, the tightness in her chest overwhelming her. She stepped out of the shower and dried off, before wrapping herself in a fuzzy towel. She opened the door and walked out, completely oblivious to where she was going, and ran into someone.
Well, let's just say it wasn't the first time she ran into this someone.
He caught her quickly, his reflexes instantly grabbing a hold on her. His arms were around her waist, and she hardly noticed the fact that her towel was being loosely held by her hand. She hardly noticed her breasts, which had (thank Merlin) grown quite the size, were pushed up and barely being hid by the towel.
Harry simply stared, his green eyes subconsciously raking over her body. There it was again! That damn wave of pleasure or satisfactory. A lopsided grin graced his face.
"First, Miss Granger," he began whispering awfully close, "you come into my bed. Now, you run into me clad only in a towel. Tsk, tsk."
"That's not fair," she said smirking. He smirked back, his gaze unwavering.
"Not fair? Shame, shame. You even followed me into my dreams. Well, nightmares technically. That display was awfully dreadful. But nonetheless, you were there. What are we going to do about this little problem?"
Who said it was a problem? Hermione! Shame on you.
"Well?" He asked.
"Well what?" She replied innocently. He exasperatedly huffed, bringing her body tighter to his own. "You're acting rather bold. What of this new discovery?"
"This new discovery just happened to be a treasure," he insinuated. She blushed hard, causing him to laugh quietly. She was about to reply, when they heard somewhat heavy yet brisk footsteps coming up the flight of stairs.
"Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione hissed. Harry nodded, and picked her up before she could even squeal. He rushed into the nearest closet and they hopped in and shut the door. She reached the top of the stairs the second after the door closed quietly.
Harry's labored breathing did nothing for her nerves, nor her predicament of having these waves of emotions. She felt anxious, happy, cold, and turned on like a light bulb. Who knew, eh? Harry wrapped his arms around her shoulders, bringing her head to be muffled into his chest. She hadn't noticed her breathing had become labored as well.
What a great situation. She was naked and in a towel. He was dressed and looking better than ever. She was having these odd mood swings, not to mention she was cold. She could imagine how he was feeling. Hello! He had her breasts into his chest for Merlin's sake. But he could never feel the same way. He's your best friend.
That was the thought that raked through millions of girls who fell in love with their best friends. No one ever really knew if the feelings were reciprocated until they tried. She was uncertain if she should bother with the effort.
Mrs. Weasley's footsteps passed by the hall closet, and knocked on Hermione's door.
"Hermione, dear?" She called out. When no one answered, she opened the door. She left her room and went to Harry's.
"Harry, dear?" She asked. Hermione could just imagine the confused look on her face. She hoped Moody was not here. She looked up Harry and mouthed 'Moody.' He nearly groaned and looked down towards the floor and started mouthing words. She poked him with her free hand, her brows furrowed. He pointed down and mouthed 'Moody'.
So he was cursing out Moody, who if he was present, would see Harry cursing at him with threats. Mrs. Weasley walked down the hall the way she came and down the stairs.
"Finally," Hermione said, her wet hair really making her cold.
"You're freezing," Harry whispered. She nodded and he immediately walked out of the closet. "Screw them, I'm the quote on quote Master of the house. My own rules. You're going to get sick, c'mon."
He led her out the closet and right back into her room. He locked her bedroom door using the same spell on his. She ran to her old drawer where she stored some old clothes and pulled out a pair of old sweats. She glanced back at Harry, who had taken a spot on her bed and was looking at her pictures. She snuck her bra and panties with lightning speed, and then lazily picked out a hoody.
Hermione realized something. She had nothing left. As she changed, she thought of all the new things she would have to get. A new trunk, robes, clothes, teddy bear, pictures, house, books. Oh her books! She slipped her hoody over her head and glanced in the mirror. Her wet curly hair was now dried and straightened by her wand, which was residing in her pocket. She was French braiding it, when she heard a knock on the door.
"Come on in," she said, her eyes never leaving the mirror. She felt his aura sweep into the tiny bathroom, his eyes glancing at her into the mirror.
"I'm glad I'm not a girl," he said chuckling to himself.
"Well, I'm glad I'm not a guy," she retorted. He stuck his tongue out at her and hopped onto the counter beside her. The silence hung through them, and a wave of anxiety hit her. "You know what I just realized?" She asked.
"I'm dead sexy," he said grinning. Well, yes, that too! She rolled her eyes, not saying yes or no to that accusation. "What?" He asked, noticing her sad face.
"I have nothing left. Nothing but a few clothes and my wand. Oh and Crooshanks." She noticed instantly his Adams apple dive down into his throat, and rise up again. He was staring intently at her.
"You have your parents," he said solemnly. How stupid of her! She stopped her braiding instantly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.
"It's fine," he replied strongly, although his eyes betrayed his anguish. Said anguished forced the waterfalls to descend rapidly against her cheeks. She went to wipe them, but that job was already being done. His fingers grazed her cheeks tenderly, the tears collecting on the tips. She sighed, no longer being able to control herself.
"It's not fine," she began, "when you don't have your parents."
"Well, look at it this way," he countered. "You have me. And I have you."
There was a moment where their eyes met, each trying to hide a blazing emotion within them. She smiled, breaking their trance.
"And you have me. And I have you," she replied back. He smiled and kissed her cheek, his lips setting her skin on fire and lingering for a moment . Her half braided head felt dizzy. She touched his cheek as he pulled away, wiping the stray tear that hung on his eyelash for dear life.
"And we have Ron too," they both said. She laughed nervously, the smile not reaching her eyes. Her hands needed to do something, so they nearly jumped into her mass of hair.
"What's happened between you two?" Harry asked.
Hmm. Should she tell Harry about Ron's confession? The one which she unfortunately denied, as far as feelings? Yes, why not.
"How to say this nicely…" she brooded. He looked at her oddly.
"He fancies you, doesn't he?" He asked gruffly. She nodded her head solemnly. "And what did you say?" Anger rose within her, and she smothered it instantly. Wow Hermione, you're becoming quite good at this.
"I say I only see him as a friend, and more like a brother. I could never date him. You see how much we argue. I don't care if people say we should, tough. I can't stand it when he gets so damn antagonistic. That's why we argue. He's too immature for me, I'm afraid."
Silence filled the air once more, this time, the two occupants were busy contemplating. Hermione finally finished her hair and examined it carefully. If it was one thing she was good at, it was French braids. She looked to her best friend, and…oh her best friend. How she longed some days to call him something more. He probably only saw her as a good tutor and someone to go gallivanting around Hogwarts with. She was only good for-
"What do you think of me?" He asked suddenly, his emerald eyes trying to meet hers. She felt apprehensive and nervous. Why did he have to ask? The only thing she could think of was to do this. Act innocent.
"What do you mean?" She asked, her brows furrowed. He sighed exasperatedly, his hand making its way through his messy hair.
"Do you think of me as immature? Do you think of me as antagonistic? Do you think of me as your brother? Do you think of me as something more? What do you think of ME?" He rambled on, his voice growing louder and volume and more strained. She stared at him obliviously, trying to find a way to answer. He hopped off the counter and was about to leave when she found herself shouting out.
"Wait just one second!" She said evenly. He turned around sharply, his eyes glowing. "Sit," she said pointing to the counter. He hopped on top, waiting expectantly.
'Understand this Harry. If I say what I feel our friendship can be altered and never the same. Do you truly want me to risk that? What we have is so rare? Or do you promise to not change our friendship if what I say may or not be to your liking?"
"Look 'Mione," he started. "All I ever wanted was for someone to be honest with me. Our friendship will never change despite what you may say. I just want to know the truth. What do you think of me?"
"What do I think of you?" She repeated. Her thoughts were all jumbled, her heart was soaring! Her heart was dropping. And then it was soaring, high above the clouds into an endless sky. She saw words flash before her eyes, words she thought she would never think of. Well, he wanted honesty, and that's what he was going to get. "What do I think of you? I think you are simply speaking, the most fabulous boy and now young man I have ever met. That's the simple version, but no, here comes the semi low-down. You are intelligent, brave, honorable, cunning, clever, daring, gentle, quiet, loud, lazy, energetic, amiable, and a gentleman. That's only the surface Harry. This is what I think of you on a whole new level, which I've denied Ron. Let me put it bluntly. I'm madly, insanely, not evil like Voldemort but nearly as neurotic, passionately, let me suffer an infinite amount of crucios IN LOVE WITH YOU! I know, how strange right? No, not at all." She was rambling and the words were tumbling out of her mouth, left and right. His jaw was hung dangerously low, his eyes wide and sparkling.
" Physically speaking, I have never been attracted to any other male in my entire life more than I've been attracted to you. I friggon adore your messy raven hair. I am always enchanted by your emerald eyes that show your true emotions. Despite its history, I even love that god-forsaken scar that graces your forehead. Don't get me wrong, I could care less about your fame. It's meaningless to me. You are Harry; not the boy-who-lived, not the Savior of the Wizarding World. You are Harry James Potter. A normal teenage boy who likes to play and loose terribly at chess, go sneaking around Hogwarts, to procrastinate about his schoolwork, and loves to play Quidditch. And Quidditch! Oh how I should bless that sport. You are simply the most good-looking and most beautiful man I've ever come upon, both inside and out." Her breathing was ragged, and her chest was rising and falling fairly quickly.
"As far as your soul, Harry, it is better than anyone's whose ever graced this planet. You sacrifice your happiness every second of every day, just so the entire Wizarding World and Muggle World can be happy. You've lost your parents, you've lost Cedric, and you've lost Sirius. And it pains me that I can hardly help take the burden away from you, because if I could do it one day, I'd do it and then use a time turner and go back and do it until I died. You could care less about your riches, or your fame. You would give everything back just to have a day with your parents. And it kills me inside knowing, with all this knowledge in my head, I can't make the one person I truly love more than myself and life happy. That's what makes you different from Ron. As much as I adore him as my brother, he is not the person I am in love with. All he ever wants is money and fame. And all you want is family. It's what I want too."
She hadn't noticed through her entire rant, tears had made an encore presentation. Her toes looked so interesting now. She felt a weight fly off of her chest instantly.
Hermione hadn't noticed the boy across from her after her speech. She hadn't observed the tears that had fallen from his face nor his movement of hopping off the counter. She heard his feet hit the floor and new he was going to be leaving her and never speaking to her again. What came next was a totally shock for the both of them.
His lips came crashing against hers. One hand cupper her face while the other held her waist. She felt herself go on fire, and fast. She busied her hands in his hair, following her instincts rather than experience. He pulled her body tighter to his, and suddenly there was a slight popping noised followed by a loud bang. They didn't hear though, for they were too busy being wrapped up in each others arms. There bodies lost distance, and Hermione's back was now against the wall. The bathroom door had been shut quickly by Harry; his fingers leaving for a second to lock it. The cold tile behind her and the warmth in front of her made her knees week. Harry hoisted her body up, pressing his body in as he lost himself with her.
His tongue gently probed from his mouth and touched her lips. She let out a sigh, allowing him entrance into her own. Her own muscle tentatively touched is, and they both moaned at the sensation. His kisses were getting strained and more urgent, as his hands found there way underneath her hoody. If it was anyone else, they wouldn't have been able to reproduce. A swift kick and sayonara! With him though? She wanted to encourage him to go higher!
She could feel the beating of his heart against her, his strong muscles providing security. She couldn't breathe literally. He had apparently come to the same conclusion that oxygen was worth a stop, and they parted. His forehead rested against hers, while his labored breaths tickled her cheek. Her head was resting against the tiles, trying to cool her down.
"Hermione?" He whispered. She nodded, and she feared the worst. She always did for some reason.
"I love you too."