A/N: I'm back!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Chapter 15: In The Morning

---

It was late-November, the air started getting colder. Two weeks as passed since Draco and Ginny's departure for London, and she expected them to return in a few days.

Things have gone rather slow for the movie house, and Hermione found her job well… decent. Anna was one of her close friends, as well as Kirk.

Well, she hasn't heard from Harry in a while, and was starting to be more comfortable without him. Although, even if he was there, it was like he wasn't there too—he just didn't pay much attention to her, to her disappointment. Except for the occasional how-the-hell-did-this-happen situations, they pretty much didn't bother each other.

But the million dollar question was:

Why did it bother Hermione so much now that he was gone?

Was it the lingering smell of his cologne or the way she would just expect him to come out of his room and help make breakfast?

Hermione sighed, so she wasn't so comfortable after all.

At least work is more enjoyable, she thought to herself as she leaned on the counter. She had been too caught up with Draco and Ginny, worrying about them, that she hadn't seen the man who approached the snack bar.

"Erm, two buckets of popcorn, two large sodas, two chocolate bars and oh—one of those gummy bears over there." The man had said, although Hermione, too lost in her own thoughts didn't seem to hear him.

"Uhm, excuse me, lady." The man said impatiently, tapping on the counter.

She turned towards his direction, and then tried to fake a smile, "Okay, uhm, that will be—Harry?"

He smiled at her, his emerald eyes twinkling, "The one and only."

She had found difficultly with speaking, her jaw had remained locked and immobile as it hung. "What—what—"

"That doesn't matter." He said, "I want those snacks, the movie's about to start."

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and then nodded curtly. Why was Harry back? Where the hell did he come from?

Why didn't he tell her?

"You're back because you want to laugh at me." She grumbled, as she filled the two buckets of popcorn. He watched her with amused eyes, following her every move.

Soon, she was able to make them, setting the snacks in front of him, she leaned on the counter and put her head on her hands, a mocking smile on her face.

"These snacks are for two. You're on a date, aren't you?" She asked, giggling.

Harry copied her position and then said with a tone of innocence, "No, what if I just wanted to eat a lot?"

"That's unlikely." She concluded feeling her heart drop as soon as the words were about to escape her, "Who's the girl?"

"Someone I know." He said, his eyebrows furrowing. He smiled cheekily, a smile Hermione noted to be an excited one. She tried not to frown.

"So there is one. Oh, well," She said, trying hard not to sound disappointed, although she didn't convince him enough. "Have fun. Tell me how the date is back at home."

He grinned cheekily—not one of politeness or to say goodbye, she had just called it home. He waved his hand in the air, "Depends." He said, nonchalantly. With difficulty, grabbed the snacks off the counter "It depends if she shows up," he called over his shoulder and then walked slowly inside one of the theatres. She glanced towards his direction for a long while, and tried to convince herself that it was a hallucination. She tried to pretend that Harry was miles away, shooting his film and doing whatever he does and certainly not here. She pretended that the last time she had seen him was over a month—she had lost count.

Her meeting with Harry was dreamlike—she had never expected him to show up on a boring morning like this in November.

Her anger was more intense now, why, oh god, why did he have the most screwed up timing? She had finally managed to cope with him not being there, but, live without him was completely out of the question. Well, she used to tell herself, stop overreacting, he'll be back soon. But the effects were colossal. She had felt more alone than ever. Missing him and wishing to see him without any explanation on why she felt such was infuriating

And somehow, it hurt her even to know—think—that he was going on a date with someone. Someone probably prettier and smarter and had more meat on her bones—Hermione, as everyone had told her, was way too skinny—and her hair was probably straight and silky. And the thought of him coming back for her—yes, and not Hermione—made her feel more unwelcome than ever.

As Hermione started fixing around, she had noticed a ticket on the counter surface. She picked it up slowly and then eyed it suspiciously. She flipped it over.

You're right, the snacks are for two.

-Harry

She grinned, thoughts of that other woman diminishing completely, and started tracing his handwriting with a goofy smile on her face. She sighed, and then put the ticket back on the counter, leaving it unattended for a few minutes, and with an embarrassed frown, she slipped it in her pocket.

"I have to work." She whispered to herself. But then, she glanced around, and with one satisfied smile, she threw off her tacky red vest and jumped eagerly over the counter.

Her feet pounded on the pavement as she ran towards the far end of the movie house, and when she turned towards where the cinema was located, she entered it carefully and looked around.

"You came!" Harry said, turning to look at her.

She felt like she was in a dream, an illusion, something that would cease to exist.

I'm dreaming, she thought to herself.

The image of Harry, his black hair windblown as he stared running from the front row towards her, his smile, the way his lean muscles would flex with every step, his pale skin glowing by the light, the emerald eyes that made her knees weak, it was picturesque. It seemed impossible that she was the person he was running towards her, too perfect for her.

Wanting to make the happiness last, she shut her eyes and hugged herself, waiting for her to wake up before anything happened. She hugged and hugged tightly. Trying to preserve whatever lightheadedness she felt after seeing him.

There was something warm on her shoulder, slightly shaking her, "Casey, are you alright?"

Hermione looked up, "You're here? For real?" The tone of her shaky voice had surprised her.

"Of course I am," He whispered softly, and then his arms enveloped her, and she dug her face into his jacket, "You sounded upset on the phone the last time we talked."

"We only talked a week ago." She mumbled weakly.

"I was worried."

"Stop worrying."

"I won't."

"I want you to."

"Why?"

"Stop worrying okay?"

He sighed and left her plea hanging, and then hugged her tighter, "I've missed you."

She melted into his arms, sighing. Little spasms of happiness bursting through her, the blood rushed to her cheeks as she returned the hug. The musky smell of his cologne and the slow, rhythmic rising of his chest after every breath comforted her, and she felt like things were okay.

"Come on," Harry said after a few minutes of standing in the silence, "The movie's going to start."

He squeezed her hand and tugged her as she scampered down the stairs towards the front row. She laughed, a smile plastered on her face as she squeezed back.

---

"Wake up," Harry murmured, shaking her awake.

Hermione glanced around, and rubbed her eyes, "Wha—?"

"You fell asleep." He mumbled, and felt her shiver. "Are you cold?"

She shifted a bit, seemed uncomfortable but said, "Only a little bit."

He stood for a while, and it gave Hermione a chance to look around, the movie screen was black, the credits had just finished, and the lights were dim. There were bodyguards at the distance and she smiled and waved hello. Soon, Harry leaned towards her and put his jacket over her, like a blanket. He leaned in, and kissed her forehead, and then sat back down beside her.

Even if the blanket was warm enough to keep her from shivering; she still did. "Wh—what was that?" She asked, somehow afraid to hear him answer.

"What was what?" He questioned, sipping on his soda.

"That forehead thing." She said shakily, gestured to what he had just done.

"It was a kiss." He said, looking at her weirdly. His eyebrows were quirked, and his stare was seeping into her, he had a very human expression. The way he said it made her feel more embarrassed than she already was, like this was the most normal thing in the world for them.

"Oh, sorry, I thought it wasn't that important, you know." She said with a hint of sarcasm, sighing, and after a while, with a confused tone, she asked, "What's going on?"

"What?" Harry said, turning to her. "What are you talking about?"

"All this." She said, "You've been gone for a real long time now, and you've only spared me three or four calls. I only know what goes on with you whenever I happen to flip to the right channel at the right time. And now, now you're back, and sweet to me—don't get me wrong, I really appreciate you being here but—"

"You're freaked out that I've been acting so different." He finished for her. She sighed, and nodded.

"I thought you needed me." He mumbled quietly, his discomfort was evident.

Hermione froze and felt herself shrink, she was lost in a cloud of thought for a moment, and slowly she nodded, "I—I do."

"Then, what's so wrong with me being there for you?" He asked rather frankly, and it caught her by surprise. She had somehow expected something less…truthful. Something that didn't state the obvious—and yet she was oblivious to it all. When she had told him she needed him—and expected him to push her plea away—he actually came for her.

"Nothing." She said, and despite herself, she was smiling.

He smiled, "Thought so."

"Forgive me?" She asked, turning towards him sadly.

He smiled and then put an arm around her, "'Course I do."

"Forget that I ever said that." She ordered him.

"Said what?"

"That's m'boy." She said, and hugged him. She let go soon and giggled as her hands started ruffling his hair.

The day was spent in the theatre, they were playing around, and Harry told her that he rented it for the whole day—although it didn't seem possible, he did. Hermione had taken some convincing, she really couldn't tell if it were a dream or not because Harry Potter, who suddenly came back from God knows where, made it seemingly obvious that he needed her too.

And plus, she was enjoying it all.

---

"I can't believe he's back…" Hermione mumbled into the phone, and she heard the girl on the other line laugh.

"It is shocking. But be glad, dear. At least you know where he is now." Her voice was vibrant and bubbly, and Hermione felt a little nostalgic after hearing Ron and Bill's voices in the background. A discreet sigh escaped his lips.

"How are the Weasley's, Ginny?" She said, avoiding the subject, and plopped down on her bed, and then lied down.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I've missed them so much. Everyone's so happy to see us, and the wedding, goodness, the wedding. They're planning it now. We're extending our vacation to a week before Christmas."

"What?" She asked, her jaw dropping.

"We're extending our vacation, besides, Harry's with you now. Isn't that great?"

"But—but"

"Oh dear, we have to go. Bye, luv. Take care of yourself!"

"Ginny—Damn it—"

And soon all she heard was the dial tone.

She cursed under her breath, and buried her head deeper into her pillow. She was excited to spend Christmas with them. But it turns out that they won't be back for another month. She closed her eyes to think, nostalgia overpowering her, and then thoughts of the secret person—no doubt someone her father had hired—to hunt her down…

Soon enough, she hadn't heard the door creak, and then the bed shift a little. There was breathing, rhythmic and slow breathing that comforted her, and almost lulled her to sleep.

"It sucks that they won't be back in over a month." The voice said. Her eyes opened slightly, looking to meet his with a confused expression.

"I heard it on the other line. It's not what you think. I was just going to call Fleur—"

"It's okay," She sighed, and then rolled over, her back to him. "You were going to find out anyway."

"You alright?"

"Yeah—I am."

"Okay. I was just checking up on you." Harry said, and she felt the bed shift again as he got up, his breathing was no longer there, his presence was gone, and she found herself uncomfortable and uneasy. And in a small, delicate whisper, she had said:

"Stay with me, Harry. Please."

Harry, although he wanted to tell himself that it was just something that he didn't hear, stood still and said nothing. He turned slightly, to look at her, and with a small ache in his heart, he had seen the extensive damage he caused her. She seemed so fragile and breakable, and a part of him couldn't help but wonder if he had contributed to her state. And with slow, cautious footsteps towards her bed, he lied down and went under the covers with her. He breathed slowly and softly, trying not to make her aware of the rapid beating of his heart.

He whispered words of comfort—she had found it sweet, even though he didn't know what her problem was. And soon, his presence was finally able to lull her to sleep.

Night passed, and morning followed, and light fluttered through the windows. Hermione stirred slightly, and rubbed her eyes. As she rolled to her side, her hand came in contact with someone's back. The feeling of his body made her jolt awake. She stared at him, and smiled in gratitude that she had woken up in more of a peaceful manner than the first time they had shared the bed.

Harry was at the edge of the bed, Hermione had to outstretch her arm to be able to touch his arm. And she smiled, smiled in giddiness as her face colored.

She scooted closer to him, close that her face was almost pressed to his back. Harry rolled over, and then lied flat on the bed. She propped herself on her arms and stared at him. There was a lightning shaped scar on his forehead, and she was tempted to trace it. And then she slowly wondered to herself on why he had never mentioned how it happened, better yet, why hadn't she asked?

She licked her lips in concentration, and lifted her hands. Her brows furrowing, and then her hands slowly raised over his forehead, she shifted and changed position, careful not to wake him. Her finger was only centimeters above his forehead, and, with one breath, she slowly grazed the flesh. The tips of her fingers running over the slightly rough texture of his scar, tracing the shape and the outline… And soon, she had run her fingers through his bangs, smiling softly to herself as it still remained unruly and short—now that he had cut it.

Afraid of him waking up, she stopped, and instead of rising, and starting her day, she decided to snuggle closer to him.

What had compelled her to do so? She never knew. Maybe it was because of the many hidden feelings and memories they had that she had kept close to her heart—too close, she had to admit.

And before things got out of hand, before she draped her arm around him and dug her face into his side and succumb to sleep once again, she stopped herself, and with a shaky breath, left the room to see how Remus was doing. The floor was uncharacteristically cold on the way to his room. She resented herself for not wearing her furry slippers, so instead of going back to her room—which seemed too far away, and, she didn't want to risk the chance of seeing Harry, she instead tiptoed and walked to Remus' quarters with shaking ankles.

Knocking slightly on the wooden door, she entered his room, and greeted him with a smile. He smiled back, and then she sat beside him.

"She's got work." Remus had filled in for her, and Hermione nodded in understanding.

"Harry is back, just thought you should know." She informed, trying to be nonchalant.

"I know," Remus said in a matter-of-fact tone, he tilted his head towards the door, and with a smug grin, he said, "He visited earlier."

Puzzled, Hermione began to say, "I thought he was asleep?"

Remus snorted, a childish, amused kind of snort. It made her smile slightly, "He's not an actor for nothing!" He exclaimed. The smile had faded from her face, as she stared at him in horror.

"Oh, okay, uhm…" She said distractedly as she stood, gave him a small hug and a kiss on the cheek. She crossed the room and stood at the threshold of the door, leaning on the doorframe, she said good-bye and asked him what he wanted for breakfast.

"I'm okay, I had some breakfast while you were asleep." He said, and then smiled.

She nodded, and then waved good-bye as she tiptoed to her room.

So he had been awake all along.

And somehow, somewhere, inside the inner depths of her heart, she had felt satisfaction that he was awake. So she wouldn't have to explain things and lie to him, telling him that it was all a dream. She entered the room cautiously, and slid under the covers, and then a small smile was on her face when she saw Harry lying tangled in the sheets. She intended to lie down next to him, and in embarrassment, she moved towards the edge of the bed instead.

"Good morning." He mumbled, and she turned to look at him, and then smiled, "Where have you been?"

"Remus'." Hermione answered tiredly, and then rolled over to face him.

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked with concern. She shook her head, and then laughed.

"You would know." She scoffed, and refused to return his glance, his stare was burning holes into her. She bit her lip.

"You got me." He said after a moment, succumbing to defeat. He sent her an apologizing look, in which she quickly returned by saying under her breath and fully aware that he could hear her:

"I always have." She closed her eyes, a silly and smug grin on her face. They fluttered open again, to meet his gaze.

They smiled for a moment, and then he started mumbling something.

"I'm going back to sleep. I'm not going to pretend this time." He then outstretched his arms and rolled over to sleep.

---

"I gotcha, right here. Yeah. Put your right foot forward—yeah, just like that, dear."

"I can't believe you're making me do this." Draco said in disbelief as she threw her arms around his neck and he rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Well—Draco, we'll have to dance on our wedding, you know." Ginny mumbled, and then rested her head on his chest. They moved slowly, their hands clasped together as they swayed softly and slowly to the music.

They were in the middle of an empty ballroom in one of the guesthouses in the palace. They were circling slowly to a song that was completely familiar to them. Draco always had a problem with dancing—but, not the dancing per se but he lacked confidence and preferred to not dance in front of others.

And plus, he got nervous, Draco is rarely nervous. But Ginny had found it incredibly adorable about him. They looked funny, just two people locked in a close embrace, swaying side to side, like a stick being blown away by the wind.

"I wonder how Hermione is doing, especially now that Harry's back." She muttered.

"Don't worry about them now." He grumbled childishly, "So, I take it you've enjoyed your vacation?"

"Yeah," It took Ginny a while to admit it, and then she smiled.

They were in the middle of an empty ballroom, and she was teaching him how to dance.

---

"Casey," He muttered from under the blanket, she looked at him.

"Are we planning on getting up or sleeping in all day?" He asked.

She pretended to ponder on the question for a while, even though her answer was obvious, "We should sleep in—would be more interesting."

"Oh, really now." He said in a playful tone, and then moved nearer to her. She giggled.

"Tell me about yourself."

He shifted; "What's there to tell?"

"I haven't heard about your childhood…and how Lily was like…or how Sirius –"

She stopped at mid sentence, and saw how Harry had pushed the covers away, got up and with one strong thrust, closed the door behind him with an angry air floating around him. She sat up hurriedly, since things had gone strangely fast and now here she was. She felt like her heart sank, and she was alone. For the first time since Harry came back.

The anger grew, and she found that she angry at herself. She threw her hands in the air in exasperation, got up, quickly put a brown shirt over her and put on her jeans. She ran down the stairs and towards the garden, where Harry was sitting.

"Harry—"

"I needed air." He said quietly, and there was a small stone in his hand as he tossed it into the air and caught it again.

"Look—If you found it uncomfortable I'm—"

"No. It's okay."

"No, Harry, it's not—"

"I'm fine Casey."

"Why do you have to be—"

"Casey—"

"Stop interrupting me!" She said angrily, her shoulders shaking with frustration. "Stop interrupting me!"

"Stop interrupting me, Harry. Your father and I are talking about something important—No, Harry, no swimming today." Lilly's voice was stern and serious. And his four-year old self sat down in defeat. He threw his goggles to the floor, and then his plastic pail and shovel. He took off his slippers in a frustrated manner. His father had put it on too tight for him. He stood, wobbling on his two little feet and then left the room.

"Unca." He called. "Sea-rus!"

"Hey kid, what are you doing? Where's your swimming gear?" Sirius came, emerging from the closet in a funny looking speedo that made Harry smile.

"We're not going. Ma said no innerkuptin, the oshen is closed because Ma and Pa are talking."

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to!" Her breathing was ragged and distressed, Harry didn't look at her, instead he shook his head, "We could talk about something else you know, all you had to do was say so. And now you're acting like some—some brat!"

"Ca—"

"I'm not finished! Harry, why does everything have to result to this when I'm with you? I—I don't get it. Sometimes I wonder what you feel. And to be honest, not being able to know, it downright pisses me off!"

"It pisses me off, dad!" Harry yelled at his father. "It fucking pisses me off to know that you don't care one second about Lilly! You only care about drinking and your bastard of a boss!"

And soon, he had felt something sharp against his cheek, his father's knuckles bore deep into his face. And then repeatedly hit him in the stomach. Harry fell down in surprise and his father kicked him repeatedly in the stomach.

"Here's—a—fact—kid." He shouted drunkenly, "Your—mother's—gone—and" One more strong punch on the lip, and he started bleeding, "Nobody—cares,"

"—About you." He finished, and left Harry on the floor, drifting to unconsciousness.

There was a long silence, and Hermione began to collect herself. "Why?"

Harry looked at her distractedly, and shook away those thoughts, "Are you finished yet? Because I've got something to say too." She nodded.

"Let's go out, have a nice lunch, maybe go sightseeing or hang out by the shore and then go back before dinner. Then maybe we could go for a nice swim. How does that sound?" He smiled smugly, and her jaw dropped. And she somehow felt more frustrated than ever. He waved his hand in front of her, "Casey?"

She stared at him, waiting for some hint or smile or expression that told her that he was joking. Surely, he must be! But she knew he was serious, it was in his eyes, and she was lost in them. Her ill feeling towards him were gone… completely gone. It didn't matter now that he didn't care or listen. At least she had told him, right? It took her all the humility and embarrassment to say, "Like on a date?"

"Like on a date." He repeated, and he held out his hand for her.

It was odd, she had the intention of coming up to him to comfort him, possibly and apologize. But no, it was he who comforted her. And that fight, it seemed like a million years ago.

And their morning was only a happy memory, part of the pile of good memories that were to be added soon.

---

Her hair was tickling him, the sun had set, and nearby, there was a beach party going on. They were at a secluded area, dancing to nothing. Just the faint screams of joy of the teenagers. She had protested, she really tried to force that this didn't happen. It was cold. The sea breeze was making her skirt flow and thus exposing her knees. And his hair was unruly and standing up because of the wind. She was falling for him.

"I want to play a game." Harry said quietly.

She snorted, "Going all 'Jigsaw' on me?"

He laughed, and she felt his hot breath against her. She smiled.

"How about twenty questions?" He challenged, they swayed and he twirled her around, she grumbled like a kid who didn't want to go to the dentist.

"Ten—" She insisted.

"Fifteen—"

"Eight—"

"Thirteen—"

"Five."

"Fine—Five. Five it is then." He said firmly, but still in a joking manner. She sighed in defeat, telling him to go on.

"What's your favorite book?"

"Well…" She began, "I'm too embarrassed. You'd think of me as a sappy and shallow girl."

He laughed, a laugh that made his chest rise up and down. "Come on," He said in a husky voice, "I've dated shallow women—girls," He corrected, "Try me."

"Pride and Prejudice." She said in a girlish manner. "It's adorable."

"Jane Austen isn't so shallow. I enjoyed the book—sort of against my will."

"Why?" She said, stifling her giggles.

"I played Darcy in a school play once. The director ordered me to."

"Ahh," She mused, "I remember that. I think we used to be schoolmates, Harry."

"I guess. Hermione was supposed to play Elizabeth, actually. But she backed out a few weeks before the play."

Hermione tried not to hide the frown, she did remember. She knew that Harry Potter would play Mr. Darcy and that she was supposed to be his leading woman. But then, because of another ball, she was forced to cancel it. It was too bad—they could've been good friends. She remained silent.

"If we were schoolmates," He began, "Why haven't I met you?"

"I don't know…I guess we never paid much attention to each other." She said, somehow forgetting that she was Casey Barrett, and once she had realized that, she felt heavy. The guilt was overpowering her, and she felt like her knees would give way.

Why in the world was she lying to him?

"I should have." He mumbled, and then he stopped abruptly. She looked up in concern, a playful smile on her lips. The cheers and laughter of the teenagers in the distance seemed to disappear, or was it that she was just lost in his eyes? In his scent? In his presence?

This five questions game, was, as she could tell, going somewhere. Somewhere that she well, did and didn't expect and her smile did not fade—of course, she was smiling for multiple reasons.

"You should have." She repeated for him, she tiptoed, and in response he bent his head, and leaned in towards her.

"You should have." She whispered against his lips, and she felt his breath against her lips. The wind caressed them, and his fingers grasping her waist tickled her. The blood rushed to her cheeks, and the grip around her tightened. Their lips met for a kiss that was long overdue.

To hell with guilt. She told herself, To hell with guilt.

They were wrapped in each other's arms, and they didn't know how long they were kissing, or how long they remained like that, because frankly, they didn't care. Her fingers ran through his hair, and then rested behind his neck. The way their lips fit together, and her soft moans and mews made Harry want to kiss her more.

He trailed little butterfly kisses down her neck as she giggled in approval. He nuzzled her neck, taking in the sweet smell of Vanilla and Lavender in her hair. She sighed happily.

"Oh, Harry." She mumbled.

"Mmm?"

"Three more questions." She reminded. "We should get this over with."

"Did you enjoy today with me?" He asked, and they sat down, and then lay on their backs.

"Yes."

"Good." He whispered, and after a while, "What part did you enjoy about today?"

She whined, "Do I have to? You already know, anyway."

He smiled, and was amused. "No—honestly I don't."

"No way."

"Please?"

"The morning."

He chuckled, "Everyone loves the morning. It makes them feel alive."

---

A/N: So sorry for the late update, school is hectic now. Well, last, last week I celebrated my birthday! I'm finally fourteen. This is my, let's say, gift to you guys for being such fabulous readers and reviewers!

I'm glad that I've finally posted this chapter. I've wanted Harry and Hermione to kiss for ages now!

I just want to explain, that this is an HHr-centered chapter. I didn't really intend on putting other scenes of the story yet. And well, Harry is back again. I know, I didn't really let it sink in that she missed Harry so much in the past chapters. But just to let you guys know, she really did. Thus the reason why she was very close to him in this one. Aaannd, we also learned a few things about Harry's childhood, btw.

I put a little D/G in this one to show how much Ginny loved the Weasleys and how much she missed them. It would play some importance in the next few chapters.

And lastly, I apologize for the kissing scene, I don't really go into detail when it comes to tongues, caresses and…you get the point. I try to make it up through their conversations XD