I'd spend ten thousand hours and ten thousand more
Oh, if that's what it takes to learn that sweet heart of yours
- Dan + Shay, 10 000 Hours
Four
It was, without a doubt, the worst day ever.
Hermione groaned and closed her eyes as a teenage wizard heaved on top of his bed. The potion he had just been administered and remnants of his lunch were spewed all over the front of her dress.
Hermione was used to this. In fact, she had seen worse and had been doused with far worse things than vomit. She was used to all the blood and fluids that came with being a healer. She could handle that. She was the type of person who wouldn't even flinch when watching a horror slasher flick since she dealt with all of the gore on the daily at work.
It was her job to be able to handle these things.
But not today.
Hermione sighed. First, her alarm clock didn't ring that morning and so she woke up late for work. After getting to work thirty minutes later than usual, she received a call from her mum informing her that their beloved pet cat Artemis had died after being run over by a car. Hermione shut herself in her office and had a good cry. After regaining composure of herself and finally beginning her work day, she found that her hospital was understaffed. Two healers stayed home with wizard's flu and Lavender informed her that one senior mediwitch was home ill as well. Hermione had to quickly reorganize her healers and spent the better part of the morning running between wards to help where it was needed.
She didn't even have time for lunch since Sir McAllister held an impromptu meeting. After the meeting, Hermione was called to the emergency ward since a young dragon trainer was being transported to St. Mungo's after the dragon turned on him. Unfortunately, the wizard was declared deceased on arrival.
Now, Hermione had puke and potion all over her dress. One might ask why she wasn't wearing her robe, but the answer to that would be because another patient vomited on her just ten minutes prior. She always preferred to change into a new robe whenever such a thing happened. She was on her way to change and decided to first finish her rounds by visiting her last patient. She never expected he would puke on her too.
"I am so sorry, Miss Hermione," the young wizard said in horror.
"No worries at all, Lukas," Hermione said softly. She grabbed her wand from its holster and performed a quick Scourgify. The vomit disappeared and her dress was clean once again. "You do need to take that potion though, so I'll be back with a new one. Sit tight," she said. She left his room and walked to the secure potion store at the end of the hallway. Every floor of St. Mungo's had a smaller potions room while the main brewery was located at the basement. She tapped her wand on a rune on the door and it automatically opened for her and closed when she entered.
Hermione scanned the shelves stocked to the brim with differently sized vials neatly organized and labelled. She passed by the shelf of antidotes and draughts and deftly picked up a small vial of Skelegro from its place. The door to the potion store opened and Hermione looked to see Lavender enter.
"Hello, darling," Lavender greeted. She stood next to Hermione and picked up a Wigenwald Potion and a Pepper Up.
"Hey, Lav," Hermione greeted weakly.
Lavender frowned. "You look tired, Hermione. Are you okay?"
One shoulder raised in a shrug. "It's just one of those days," Hermione said simply.
"Tell me about it," Lavender replied with a knowing nod. She patted her growing bump. "People say pregnancy is beautiful but they're wrong. My back hurts, my feet hurt, I'm hungry all the time… can't this day just be over already so I can relax?"
Hermione let out a smile. "It almost is, Mediwitch Weasley," she said. She bid goodbye to Lavender and headed back towards Lukas' room.
Hermione made sure to stay far away from the bedside when the teenage boy drank his potion. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it went down smoothly. Lukas gave her a small grin and Hermione smiled back. "Get some rest, Luk," Hermione said as she fluffed the pillow behind him. "I think you can be discharged tomorrow as soon as we ensure your broken leg has set properly."
"Thank you so much, Miss Hermione," Lukas said as he picked up the book on his bedside table.
"Just don't do stupid stunts on your broom again, alright?" Hermione admonished softly.
Lukas gave her a shy grin. "I won't, I promise."
Hermione bid goodbye to the young boy and left his room.
As soon as Lukas' door closed behind her, Hermione's mirror rang loudly. She fished it out of her dress pocket and read the message. She was being called urgently to the operating ward due to a transfiguration spell gone awry. With a sigh, Hermione sped quickly down the hall to answer the call.
In the thick of wizarding London at the Ministry of Magic, Auror Harry Potter was having the best day ever. His Aurors closed a massive case involving bribery in the Wizengamot. Two members and the Junior Undersecretary were properly ejected from their seats and sentenced to five years in Azkaban.
Not only that, but his spies have gathered intelligence concerning The Collector. After months of inactivity following the failed arrest, it seemed as though The Collector was eager to be back in business. There were whispers that a new shipment of illegal goods was due to make its way to England in the coming months.
Even Harry's secret mission with Draco and Ron was turning fruitful. His deputy came to his desk earlier that day with reports of apparent sightings of Mackenzie. The disgraced Hit Wizard was seen in a seaside city south of London. Harry properly instructed Draco to follow up with the lead.
Harry strode into his office with a wide grin following his lunch break and his Aurors watched with amused smiles on their faces. They knew the real reason their Commander was in such a good mood and it had nothing to do with the wins their department was getting.
It was no secret to the team that their Commander's first date with "Miss Healer" was later that evening.
"I see that you haven't wiped that smile off your face yet, Potter," Harry heard from his doorway. He looked up from the paperwork he was reading to see his deputy enter. Draco Malfoy had a smirk on his face as he crossed the floor and sat in front of Harry's desk.
"Weekends always uplift my spirits," Harry responded.
"Right," Draco said with a quirked eyebrow. "Have you planned what you were going to do tonight?"
At this question, Harry nodded. "Dinner somewhere quiet so we can talk and get to know each other better."
"You do realize that nowhere will be quiet if they know you're there?" Draco asked. "Not to mention all the rumours once they found out you're dining with the newest eligible witch in town."
"That's why I'm taking her to my place where I'm cooking dinner for her."
Draco's eyebrows rose. "That's a bit presumptuous, isn't it?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "We will just be having dinner. I don't expect anything else tonight apart from eating and talking. Get your mind out of the gutter."
"Sure, sure, whatever you say boss," Draco drawled which caused Harry to roll his eyes. "Contrary to your thinking that I came here to discuss only your love life, I do have some updates for you."
Harry's demeanor changed and turned more serious. With a wave of his hand, his office door closed and the glass wall which allowed him to look out into the bullpen fogged to allow no light to pass through the glass. Privacy charms were cast around them as Draco put a folder he had been holding onto on top of Harry's desk.
"My sources confirmed that Brandon Mackenzie was in Brighton again. He was seen going through the wizard markets there just an hour ago," Draco said. He opened the folder and presented Harry a moving photograph of the rogue Hit Wizard walking through a crowded street. The man's face was stern and his eyes shifted from left to right as he shouldered his way through the mass of witches and wizards. "Unfortunately, they lost him not soon after that. There was far too many people and he might have apparated out of the place after getting in the clear," Draco continued.
"Why was he in Brighton?" Harry asked. He looked at the photograph again as it replayed the image. Harry watched as the young blonde-haired, green-eyed wizard moved across the crowd. It was unmistakably Mackenzie for he had a scar on his right cheek Harry knew he received in combat years before. He squinted his eyes and saw that the burly wizard's right hand was clasped around a parcel. "What's he carrying?"
"The spies aren't sure yet, but they'll be watching. This was the second time he was spotted in Brighton in the span of two days. He had a reason to be there so he will be back and at that point, we'll put a tail on him," Draco said confidently.
Harry pursed his lips. "And Livingston? Any signs of him?"
Draco shook his head. "No sightings of Livingston, but I'm certain he's not far away. If there's one thing we know about Mackenzie it's that he's loyal to the tee. He risked everything for Livingston. They wouldn't have gone far from each other."
Harry nodded, satisfied with Draco's reasoning. From the two wizards' files he learned that Anthony Livingston was the closest thing Brandon Mackenzie had to a father figure. Livingston was the one who got Mackenzie off the streets of London and into the ranks of the Hit Wizards. Harry knew that Mackenzie felt indebted to Livingston.
"Keep me updated," Harry said. "And keep a close eye around Brighton with our spies. I want them tailed as soon as either of them are spotted."
"Yes sir," Draco said with a nod. He closed the file with Mackenzie's photograph and rose from his seat. "I'll brief Ron. I'll see you later but if I don't, have fun on your date with Healer Granger."
Harry shook his head at Draco's mischievous look. "It is just dinner, Draco."
"Sure, sure," Draco said airily. "Don't do anything I would do."
Hermione expelled a breath as she apparated into her flat that evening. Her day didn't get any better. She was called aside by one of her most senior healers and informed that said healer was quitting. Healer Austen had been at St. Mungo's for decades and hoped that once Chief Healer Doyle retired she would be taking his place. Since the promotion didn't happen and a new, much younger healer was brought in instead, the senior healer felt out of place at St. Mungo's. Healer Austen said there was no bad blood between her and Hermione, but she did express that she couldn't work at St. Mungo's anymore for she still felt slighted even though it had been six months since Hermione's appointment. Healer Austen gave her two weeks' notice and scurried off to tend to her patients.
Following the impromptu meeting with Healer Austen, Hermione was called into another emergency at the operating ward. A witch was in labour but there were complications with the delivery. The mother was afflicted with a terrible case of wizard's flu and they very nearly lost her during the delivery for she was unable to deliver her child normally. Hermione had to perform a cesarean section to ensure mother and child were safe.
She was exhausted (and frankly a little cranky) and all she wanted to do was take a hot bath and order some pizza. She had chosen to live in a Muggle neighbourhood for nights such as this one. She dialled in her order and hopped into the bath. Hermione felt as though she was forgetting something but she was too tired to remember what it was. Something nagged at the back of her brain but she brushed it aside. Whatever it was could wait until the following day.
After a relaxing soak, Hermione grudgingly left the bath and dressed. She had just finished combing her hair when the doorbell rang. She perked up a little bit thinking her dinner had arrived.
Feeling happier than she had the whole day, Hermione left her bedroom and padded barefoot across her flat. She grabbed her purse from a table before throwing the door wide open with a smile.
The sight which greeted her wasn't what she expected and the something she had forgotten came rushing back.
"Oh," Hermione whispered, eyes wide. She took in the sight of Harry Potter standing on the other side of the door carrying a bouquet of flowers. He was wearing dark denim trousers, a forest green shirt which only made his eyes shine brighter, and the sexiest grin Hermione had ever seen. He had a dimple on his cheek as he smiled at her and Hermione felt herself blush when he took in her outfit of shorts and an old jumper.
"Good evening, Hermione," Harry greeted easily. "These are for you." He handed her the bouquet of English roses.
The plan for their date and the things leading up to it came rushing back to her as she accepted the flowers:
The owl she received on Tuesday, the day after he was discharged, with a thank you note and the question: "Dinner at 7 on Friday?"
The lunch he got delivered from a nearby restaurant to St. Mungo's cafeteria for all hospital staff as a sign of gratitude for their hard work that dreadful night.
The text message he sent her midday Thursday (because she of course said yes to his offer of dinner and owled him her number) with the simple words "I hope you're having a good day so far" which kept her smiling for the rest of the day.
It was only because of the very shitty Friday morning that she forgot about their plans!
"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry!" Hermione exclaimed, the bouquet clutched tightly in her hands. She tried to loosen her grip a little bit so she wouldn't crush the stems. "I had such a terrible day and completely forgot about tonight. Why don't you come in and I'll quickly get ready..."
She trailed off when she felt Harry's hands on her shoulders. She tore her sorry eyes away from the roses in her hands and looked at the Auror who was smiling at her. She could feel the warmth of his hands as he gently stroked the top of her arms.
"It's fine, Hermione. There's no rush. I can wait out here, if you'd like-" he started to say when a cough from behind Harry caught their attention.
The witch and wizard looked to see a lanky boy with platinum blonde hair wearing the local pizza parlour's uniform, hat and all. In his hand was a large and flat, square box with a smaller box on top.
"Er, hi. I'm here for "Hermione" with a large Hawaiian pizza and a pound of barbeque chicken wings. Is that you, ma'am? How would you like to pay?" The boy asked.
Hermione blushed a bright red as the boy relayed her order. She gently tucked the bouquet at the crook of her arms, took the necessary number of notes from her purse plus a generous tip, and handed them to the boy. He grinned when he saw how much he tipped her and excitedly gave her the boxes. He dipped his head in farewell and dashed back down the hall.
Hermione dared to glance at the man in front of her.
There was a small grin on Harry's face as he watched the flustered witch. She looked beautiful and - dare he say it? - incredibly sexy dressed like that. Her brown curls seemed wilder and he had to control himself as to not stare at her long and shapely legs.
But she also looked worried, and embarrassed, and stressed. He frowned when he recalled her earlier words.
She had a terrible day and forgot about their date. He didn't begrudge her for that for as Auror Commander he's had more than his fair share of shitty days. And after those days, all he wanted to do was stay home, eat pizza, and maybe watch a Muggle movie or two.
Harry gave a wry smile. He grabbed the boxes from Hermione's hands which startled the witch and she looked up at him. Her eyes were questioning but all he did was smile at her.
"I think I have a better idea than going out for dinner," he mused aloud.
Her eyes widened when he walked around her and nudged the door further open with his hip. She turned around, eyes following his form and silently admiring his very nice behind, as he crossed the threshold and stepped into her home.
"I think I'm feeling pizza and a movie?" He asked with a grin.
She gaped. "But- the plan..." She started to say, remembering the message he sent her detailing their date. He didn't really tell her a lot about it, only saying that there was no need to dress fancy and that he hoped she liked Italian food. He didn't name the restaurant they were going to but she figured it was because he wanted to surprise her.
He winked at her and she felt her heart skip a beat. That easy grin was causing funny things to happen to her body. She felt flushed and there were little butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
How could this man whom she barely knew incite such a reaction? She was usually so calm and collected but here she was blushing to her roots at his stare.
"Don't worry about it," Harry replied. "I'm much more interested in what you've got here," he said as he raised the boxes in his hands with a grin that sparkled his eyes. "That is… if you don't mind staying in for tonight?"
Hermione found herself smiling back. This wasn't something she would have ever considered before. Hell, her agreeing for him to pick her up at her home was already out of the usual. For the previous blokes Gabrielle had set her up with, Hermione had always insisted on meeting them at the restaurant or at the theatre. Never would she have agreed to let them into her home.
Oh, but Harry. She looked at him standing there, all sly and grinning and sexy and handsome with that tousled hair and bright green eyes. Harry made everything feel so easy. His presence was reassuring and she felt as though she didn't have to put up any pretense being around him.
So she didn't. Hermione slowly shook her head no since she certainly wouldn't mind staying in for the night with this man. He beamed at her and stepped aside, his back to her door, as he made way for her to get inside.
With a soft smile on her face, Hermione walked past him. The air felt electric when she lightly brushed up against him in her stride. She wondered if he felt it too. Once she was fully inside, Harry removed himself from the door allowing it to close behind him as he followed her further into her home.
Harry glanced around the foyer, his eyes taking in the wide open-spaced flat. It was a large rectangle where the rooms flowed into the next. The foyer was perpendicular to the living room where tall bookshelves dominated one wall. He saw books of different shapes, colours, and sizes neatly arranged in the stacks. In front of the bookshelves was a large sofa of a deep navy blue with fluffy looking pillows and a throw draped over one arm. A silver coffee table sat in front of the sofa and across from it was a large entertainment unit with a television in the middle and framed photographs, ornaments, and more books placed on the surrounding shelves.
The living room flowed into a dining room through a wide archway. There was a large mahogany table placed in the centre with dark green velvet chairs on all sides but one. Instead of chairs, a long bench of the same wood rested to provide ample room around the dining table. And the last room Harry could see was the kitchen. An island with a butcher block countertop graced the middle of that room with bar stools on one side. White shelves, stainless steel appliances, and brass pots and pans hanging from a metal frame atop the island completed the look. Closed doors which he believed led to the bedrooms and bathrooms lined the hallway running parallel to the dining room and kitchen and to the right of the main entrance.
Artwork and picture frames peppered the walls of the flat. Harry saw a large cork board hung on the dining room wall. All sorts of greeting cards, birthday cards, and other cards were pinned on the board. He smiled when his eyes drifted across it and he wondered what was written in them.
The pièce de résistance of the whole apartment though, and what captivated Harry's attention, was a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. The London skyline was visible through the glass and the view took Harry's breath away. Even from his position, he could see the tops of tall buildings and skyscrapers with their lights illuminating the night sky.
Her home was beautiful and modern yet extremely comfortable and personal. He looked at the witch standing next to him to see her already looking at his direction with anticipation clearly written on her face. She was biting on her bottom lip as her eyes peeked at him through long eyelashes. She was beautiful and sexy and Merlin, he was so attracted to her.
"You have a beautiful home," he said, his voice soft. A radiant smile lit up her face and Harry gulped.
"Thank you," she said. "Why don't we head into the kitchen? I should put these flowers in water before we have dinner. Thank you, by the way. They're beautiful." There was a soft blush on her face as she looked at the roses in her hands.
He grinned. "No problem at all. I'm happy you like them," Harry replied. She beamed once more before turning on her heels and heading to the kitchen. Harry followed right behind her while trying so hard not to keep his eyes trailed on her bum. He instead looked at the frames hung on the walls as he walked passed. There was a younger looking Hermione in a light blue cap and gown reminiscent of the Beauxbatons uniform. She was smiling and waving to the camera. Beside that was a photograph of her and the Delacour sisters with the Eiffel Tower in the background.
They reached the kitchen and Hermione immediately rounded the island while Harry set the boxes on the countertop. She opened a drawer from its side and produced a tall and narrow vase. She filled the crystal with water and gently placed the flowers inside, one stem at a time. Harry watched with interest as she carefully arranged the stems and his lips quirked when she looked proudly at the finished product.
"There," she whispered. She moved the vase to the middle of the countertop and turned to reach into one of the higher shelves above the stove. She produced two plates and walked over to Harry's side. She laid the plates down and opened the two boxes revealing their food. "I really hope you don't mind eating this," she said again.
Harry shook his head and sat down on one of the stools. He grabbed a slice of the still gooey pizza topped with ham, pineapple, and cheese. He held her gaze as he took a bite and was pleasantly surprised at the taste. It tasted like Hawaiian pizza he'd had before but different and better somehow. The surprise must have shown on his face since she giggled before grabbing a slice of her own.
"The pineapple is coated in bacon fat before it's grilled," she said, before taking a bite. "Delicious, isn't it?"
"Probably the best Hawaiian pizza I've ever had," he said truthfully before his mouth closed around the slice once again.
Hermione smiled. "It's one of London's best kept secrets. Would you like anything to drink, by the way? I've got wine, beer, juices, water..."
Harry set his slice down and looked at her. "Let me get it. Is everything in the fridge?"
Hermione smiled softly from her seat and nodded. Harry stood up and rounded the kitchen island they were using as a table. He stood in front of the refrigerator and opened its double doors. There was a bottle of red and white chilling on one of the shelves. "How does white wine sound?"
"Perfect," Hermione answered. His hand closed around the Riesling and pulled the chilled wine from the fridge. He grabbed two wine glasses from the tall bar shelf next to the refrigerator and carried the items back to Hermione. He winked at her before using wandless magic to open the wine bottle. With experienced movements, he poured the wine into the crystal glasses and set the bottle down.
"Cheers," the Auror said as he picked up his wine glass.
Hermione grinned and picked up her own. "Cheers," she replied and clinked her wine glass with his.
They talked as they ate. Harry told her about his return to work and the gratitude his whole team expressed towards her for the hard work the hospital performed the night of the raid. She told him how the whole St. Mungo's staff was floored with his show of gratitude at the lunch he provided them yesterday. He laughed and said that it was the very least he could do.
The conversation flowed easily between them and she was amazed. Such a stark contrast it was from the previous dates she had been on. Over the wine, pizza, and chicken wings, Harry and Hermione talked about their lives. They talked about their interests (her, reading and travelling; him, Quidditch and cooking) and their favourites. He told her stories of some of the eyebrow-quirking cases he worked on as an Auror and she told him what it was like living in France. He asked her how she met the Delacours to which she replied that her mum, Jeanne Granger née Laurent, was actually their dentist. "We've known each other since we were little," Hermione explained as she picked up another chicken wing. "I used to accompany my parents to their practice after we moved to Paris and the Delacours were one of their first patients! I became friends with Fleur and Gabrielle but I didn't know they were magical until I was about… eight years old, I think? That was when I showed first signs of magic. My parents have become good friends with Adaline et Sebastien and told them that I had levitated a book I couldn't reach into my hands. They recognized that I was magical and told them about their world… my world. My parents were scared and skeptical at first but the Delacours were so helpful in helping them understand. It was no surprise then that I received a letter to Beauxbatons when I turned eleven and followed Fleur there. Gabrielle joined us a couple of years later. They're like my sisters, and Adaline and Sebastien my second set of parents," Hermione reminisced wistfully.
"They spoke a lot about you," Harry told her. "Hermione always popped up in conversations. Although, now I'm realizing why I didn't recognize your name at first at the hospital. It wasn't only the potions," he said with a sly smile, "but I've only ever heard it said with a French accent from Fleur and Gabrielle," he continued thoughtfully. "Hermione," he said again, but holding the H silent and rolling the R slightly this time like how the French would say it. "It's a beautiful name."
She blushed not only at his comment but at how he said her name. The sound of it coming from his lips pleased her regardless if it was said the British or the French way.
"Thank you," she replied. "They spoke a lot about you too, as well as the other people here in London. It almost felt like I already knew you," she said, remembering the times the sisters would call her and give her updates on their lives. Often times Fleur would speak about the Weasleys and that usually meant diving into stories about their extended family, including Harry.
"Really?" Harry asked with a quirk of his eyebrow. "And what did they say? I hoped they didn't tarnish my reputation."
Hermione laughed at his playful question. "Quite the opposite actually, Mr. Potter," she replied, equally as mischievous. "I got the sense that you were a very good friend to them from our previous conversations. They spoke highly of you," Hermione said with a smile. "I heard from Fleur about how you're Victoire's favourite person - which I only take a little offence to - and Gabrielle could never stop telling me about all the times you've helped her. And knowing them for as long as I have… well, it's not always easy hearing compliments from the Delacours, especially Fleur. You've become like family to them, Harry."
He sipped from his wine glass and thought of the sisters. It really surprised him that he grew so close to the Delacours. He would have never expected that the part-Veelas would have become one of his closest friends when he first met them at Hogwarts all those years ago. But fighting on the same side during the war, not to mention their close ties to the Weasleys and Bill's involvement with the Aurors, really cemented and evolved their relationship. They have become a part of his closest circle and brought continuous joy and laughter into his life.
He glanced at Hermione and smiled.
And they brought interest too.
"I'm glad to hear that," he said truthfully. "They're some of my best friends."
At noticing that he had finished eating, and since she was done as well, Hermione stood up from the bar stool and grabbed their empty plates. She brought them over to the large kitchen sink and gently set them down in the tub. Harry watched her as she walked to the refrigerator and opened the freezer door. She thought for a bit before she turned around and looked at Harry, beaming. He gulped the wine down as he took her in, all fresh faced and glowing from the light inside the freezer door.
"What do you say to ice-cream and a movie?" She asked with a smile.
Wordlessly he nodded, and her smile grew. She bent from the waist and Harry's mouth went dry at the sight of her shapely behind. He had just averted his eyes before she was upright and staring at him again. "Salted caramel?" She asked while holding the container up.
"Sounds delicious," he replied. She grinned and moved away from the refrigerator after closing the freezer shut with her hips. Hermione walked to the countertop with the tub of ice-cream in hand. Harry watched her as she retrieved two bowls and spoons from the drawers before opening the container's lid.
"You're staring at me," she said softly, her eyes trained downwards to the ice-cream as she scooped some of its contents. Hermione felt his gaze on her the whole time she was moving around in the kitchen. It was one thing to pay attention to her when they were eating and talking but she could feel his eyes on her even as she was doing the most mundane things. He was so attentive and so fixated on her that she could feel the warmth spreading across her body.
Harry smiled to himself at being caught. "I was," he agreed, while still looking at her. "You're very interesting." He swore he saw her cheeks reddened at his comment.
"You think scooping ice-cream is interesting?" She asked, her eyes now looking into his. He so badly wanted to trace the blush on her cheeks.
"When you do it, it is," he admitted and was elated at the deepening crimson of her blush. "And I also find it very intriguing that you're not using magic to do these," he observed.
Hermione nodded her head and fixed her gaze on the task once again. "I like doing things with my hands," she said, "Magic is wonderful, but I don't want to depend on it too much for things I could easily do myself."
She heard rustling and looked up to see Harry standing beside her. Her breath caught at his proximity and she felt her face grow even more heated. This wizard would be the death of her. He was so handsome and attentive and interested in her on top of being a genuinely nice person. He also made her feel so at ease (when he wasn't making her insides turn to goo with those looks of his, that is) and she could spend hours talking to him.
She was in over her head and falling fast.
He grinned and grabbed the full ice cream bowls with both hands. "I feel the same way. Therefore, let me help bring these to the living room for you then," he said. "Shall we open another bottle of wine?"
Ignoring the fluttering of a thousand butterflies in her stomach, Hermione nodded her head. She pulled another bottle from the fridge and turned around to see Harry make his way across her home with such confidence and ease. From the kitchen she watched him lay the bowls on two coasters atop her coffee table and settle himself into the couch. She grabbed two fresh wine glasses and followed him there.
"So what movie are we watching?" He asked after she had sat on the opposite end of the couch. He eyed the long stack of DVDs neatly arranged by title underneath the telly. He loved that she was still so attuned to her Muggle upbringing. It was one thing he really missed in his close circle of friends. Draco and Ron were from pureblood families who, in the case of Draco, resented anything Muggle or didn't really know the Muggle world. Ron didn't show a lot of interest in Muggle things at first either, dismissing it as too mundane and too boring. It was only through him that the two even learned of what the cinema was or how to properly use the telephone. No one in his closest circle of friends grew up Muggle and sometimes, Harry missed that aspect in his life.
It was refreshing to see a witch, and a brilliant and powerful one at that from what he had witnessed, who appreciated the non-magical and saw the beauty in doing things for herself.
"Well," she began, drawing out the syllable as she looked at her collection, "I was actually thinking of watching The Princess Bride. It's one of my favourite movies if you don't mind seeing it."
He grinned. "It's one of my favourites too."
She beamed at him and leapt from the seat. "Well that settles it! The Princess Bride it is. It's such a classic, isn't it?"
She got on her knees in front of the telly and picked out the DVD from the stack. She opened the case with a pop and inserted the disc into the player. Hermione returned to her seat and used the controller to turn on the television and start the movie.
Harry watched as Hermione comfortably settled herself into the couch and tucked her legs underneath her bum. She used another controller on the table to dim the lights low around them. He smiled to himself before leaning back on the cushions too. He passed her a bowl of ice-cream and turned his attention to the screen just as the lion roared mightily signalling the start of the movie.
They watched in companionable silence for a while with the only sounds coming from the screen and the spoons scraping the bowl for ice-cream. After he was done with his bowl, Harry picked up his wine glass and tried to concentrate on the movie. He could only try because the witch beside him was very distracting. He twirled the wine glass with his hand and continued to watch Hermione from the corners of his eyes. She had almost fully laid on the sofa now with her back against the cushioned armrest. Her eyes were fixated on the screen and her pert lips were moving as she mouthed the words softly. But what struck Harry as funny and interesting was that she was mouthing the words in French and not in English.
"Hermione," he whispered, as he fully turned to face her. She tore her eyes from the screen and looked at him with wide eyes. "Are you mouthing the words in French?" He asked teasingly.
He saw her cheeks reddened and she nodded. "I only had the French copy of the DVD for a long time…" she started to explain.
Harry only let out a soft laugh and shook his head in amusement. "And this is why you continue to fascinate me, Mademoiselle Granger," he said. Her blush deepened. "Maybe we should watch this movie in French next time. It would definitely help me brush up on the language."
She smiled at the idea of seeing him again. "You can always ask me too, Monsieur Potter," she replied. "I've been told I'm a good teacher."
"Well, then, maybe I will," he said softly. She smiled at him and turned her eyes back to the screen.
The movie progressed and Hermione was surprised at Harry's knowledge of the plot and dialogue. He wasn't lying when he said it was one of his favourite movies since he knew the words to many of the scenes by heart. She giggled when he recited Vizzini's confident monologue during the Battle of Wits and even faked his own death when the character dropped on the screen. She didn't know how it happened but she eventually found herself lying on the couch with her legs draped over Harry's lap. The wine bottle stood empty at the side of the coffee table as they sipped the last of its contents from their cups. They cheered together when Inigo finally got his revenge and grew quiet when Wesley rode away with Buttercup.
"Comme tu veux," Hermione whispered as the last scene played and the movie ended. The screen darkened and Harry turned the lights on with the controller.
They revelled in silence for a few moments. Hermione felt her heart beating faster as she anticipated what was to happen next. She had no idea what to expect for their first date but it certainly wasn't this. She had so much fun compared to her other first dates and she felt as though she knew him better. Her terrible morning and afternoon were forgotten since his presence was intoxicating and filled her with so much joy. Being in his presence made her forget about her troubles and she was so comfortable and at ease around him. Merlin, here she was on her couch dressed in what she considered to be pajamas with not a speck of makeup on her face and her hair undone yet she didn't mind! She felt confident, and in control, and herself since he didn't once make her feel like he expected more from her during their date.
Harry, meanwhile, was looking at the empty wine glass in his hand with a smile on his face. He had a blast. She was witty, and charming, and so fucking beautiful. He was mesmerized and he had to control himself from jumping her on the couch since she looked absolutely delectable. He was himself around her which surprised him as well. The walls he would build when he was around strangers weren't erected this time around. It was easy being around her.
"I should probably head out," he whispered and set the empty glass on the table. "It's getting late and I unfortunately have some work to do tomorrow."
"Oh! Of course," she replied and retracted her legs from his lap. He frowned at the loss of contact and watched as she righted herself and stood from the couch. She stood there awkwardly for a moment, not entirely sure what to do or what to say.
Harry stood up and approached her. He grabbed her hand, making her look to him, and squeezed. "I had a really good time, Hermione," he said softly making her smile.
"I did too," she whispered.
"What are you doing next weekend?" He asked. The earnesty in his eyes and the eagerness in his voice almost made her want to giggle. She paused for a moment and looked at him. As much as her brain was screaming that this was Too Fast! and to Be Careful! she knew she had already fallen. Her attraction to him was palpable and she knew and could see that he felt the same way.
She liked him. She wanted to know more about him. He made her laugh and he seemed genuinely interested in her as well.
It would be foolish of her to deny this.
She held his gaze as she said her reply. "I don't know. What are we doing?"
He smiled so broadly that it made her beam. The next second his lips were on hers. They were soft and supple and tasted of salt and caramel. She sighed against his lips and looped her arms around his neck to draw him closer. His arms snaked around her waist and held her there.
Their kiss was soft and tender. They drew apart, their breaths in soft pants. Harry licked his lips and smiled at her again. The fingers on her waist tightened their hold and Hermione breathed deeply.
"Delicious," he murmured. "I should probably leave now before I stay for much longer," he admitted with burning eyes.
She nodded her head and softly played with his hair. "That's probably a good idea," she whispered. "I don't… I don't want to mess this up in any way, Harry."
Her admittance made him smile. "I don't either. I know it's only the first date, but I really like you already, Hermione."
Her eyes softened and she stood on her tiptoes to peck him on the lips once again. "Then I'll see you next weekend. Feel free to call or text me anytime," she said. Her arms withdrew from around his neck but Harry's arms remained around her.
"As you wish," he replied with a grin. He pulled her closer to him before he kissed her one last time. He couldn't get enough of her taste. "I'll see myself out. Good night, Hermione."
And with that, he was gone.
Hermione remained standing for a moment before she sank back down into the couch. A huge smile was on her face as a finger traced her lips.
She was falling, and she was falling quickly, but she sure as hell didn't mind one single bit of it.
Author's Notes: This chapter didn't want to be written, but I pushed through and now I'm back. Thank you for all of your continued support.