orokid: yeah… chapter three… what can I say about this? Um… it's done and it is just normal fluff that means absolutely nothing to the story at all- its mostly just to keep me focused and change from one night to the next morning (which I kinda have planned). Yeah… Anyway…
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the characters in it. At all. ((cries))
Chapter Three
The wind whispered softly through the trees of Godric's Hollow and told of endings that could not be deciphered as of yet by the human ear. Still, Harry was doing his best to figure out their words while he lay in bed, gazing up at the ceiling, watching the shadows try and overcome the moonlight.
It was obvious that he had done this for nights on end, his face showing his sleeplessness now more so than ever. But why? Maybe it was the fact that Voldemort was coming, and that death seemed to be his only option at this time. Or that the final battle would come, and his friend and acquaintances could die, and it would be his entire fault if they did.
Or maybe it was because the girl he fancied was in the room connected with his, living in the same vicinity as him, pregnant with Harry's best mate's child.
Maybe.
It may not have been the best time to be a teenager and have death looming over you constantly, but his hormones weren't on the same plain of existence as his mind was. His mind was always on the verge of a breakdown, thinking that everyone he cared about would be the next ones to die, and that he'd follow right after them. His hormones rather dealed with matters that concerned his heart (mainly) and were the reason he wished to snog the young woman in next room down endlessly. Those ruddy things also made him want to love her, and hope that the baby within her was not Ron's but his.
But that seemed unlikely, so a third thing- his gentlemanness- had caused the two to clash, causing the situation he was in now.
A knock caused his attention to waver, and his eyes moved to look at the bathroom they shared with one another. It had been soft, so he hadn't been sure if it had been real or a figment of his imagination.
"Harry?" her voice seemed even louder than the knock, albeit softly, but he was thankful for the volume anyway. He wasn't going crazy. "You up?"
"Like always," he told her, not bothering to whisper as she had, his emerald orbs focused (as much as they could be while his glasses laid unused on the bedside table) upon the door. Slowly, it creaked open, an unsure woman making her way inside. Harry looked her over, not bothering to place his wire framed sight helpers on, the blur an okay thing for now.
Even from here, he could see that her child was growing strong inside her.
As a second nature almost, he scooted aside, patting down the spot he had just vacated, giving her a grin that only she's seen upon his face. "No need to say anything. I understand." Her posture relaxed almost entirely, moving over to her best mate, sliding underneath the covers with him.
"Thank you," Hermione told him as his arm wrapped about her waist protectively, her own moving over his. "I'm sorry that I'm like this but-"
"Like I said, there's no need to say anything." He grinned, holding tightly to her, his breath on her skin. Whether she'd admit it or not, she liked this feeling that welled up inside her body, that made her want to explode into fireworks each time his fingers would accidentally touch her skin. She enjoyed how she fit in his arms like this, and how he did his best to get everything she wanted- even that pickled banana in chocolate.
And, as much as she didn't want to admit it, she had begun to fancy the man that was her friend.
But he only did it because he felt sorry for her predicament, and he had wanted to be the kind and caring guy he had always been. It wasn't his fault that her parents had kicked her out of the only home she knew of, and it wasn't his fault that she was too afraid to tell the father of her baby that he would be, indeed, a daddy soon. Everything was of her doing, and yet Harry still welcomed her with open arms.
"Comfy?"
She smiled, feeling her face flush ever so lightly, making her glad that she had her back to him at this time. "Yes. Very much so. Thank you."
The emerald eyed young man only felt his heart grow at her words, his chest warming with love and pride for her. He was glad that she felt at ease enough to go into his room every time she felt sad or lonely, and he'd always be there to wrap his arm around her and hold her until all her problems would go away. It was his duty, though, as both her best friend and the one who secretly loved her. "You're welcome."
Hermione snuggled into his arms, holding back that strange need that was begging her to turn around and kiss him softly. She hoped that he couldn't feel, let alone hear, her heart which was rapping against her ribcage, and her eyes gently closed in futile hopes to calm herself. "Goodnight, Harry."
"Night."
He felt her hand move down from his resting place (which had been his arms) and slid it down to her belly which had grown much in the past month, to where her child laid dormant for now. The young man could feel his anger and frustration rise within his body, although he did do his best so not to tense up. She didn't need to know that he was jealous of Ron, that he wished that the being that laid inside her, unborn, was his and his alone.
She didn't need to know that Harry James Potter was in love with her.
"Harry?" she asked softly some moments later, calling out to him once more, and he stirred in response. It was his silent way of telling her that he was still awake and willing to listen to what she had to say. "Do you… Do you think he'll ever talk to me again?"
It figured, he thought. He was thinking about the woman in his arms and she was thinking about the boy who had broken her heart and left her alone to have his offspring. Why couldn't she have thought about him like he did her instead? "I don't know, 'Mione," the raven haired wizard whispered softly into her ear, keeping (although having no idea how he had done it) the malice from his voice.
Did he know how his breath sent shivers down her spine when he did that?
"But…" He had continued speaking, which had brought her back down to Earth, back into the arms she enjoyed being in than anywhere else. "If I were Ron… I'd have asked for you back months ago." He blushed lightly as he could feel her shift her body over, probably preparing to give him an inquisitive look- the one that he had grown to love and then some over all these years. "I mean, if I had truly loved you, I wouldn't want you moving in with my other best mate, right?" He gave a nervous laugh, and she moved back into his embrace.
Still, he could feel about the comment he had made.
So, to escape a horrible ending that he knew might come sooner than he had hoped, he did the only thing that could take him from the future nightmare of getting asked about his infamous feelings. He… fell asleep. It had become something he had gotten good at after all of his years as an insomniac.
And he didn't hear the one thing that would've made his whole lifetime better.
"What if… I don't want him to, Harry? What if I… like being here?" She gulped down her nervous spit, taking in a breath and getting ready for something that could end up disasterous. "What if… I've… fallen for you, Harry?"
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orokid: yeah… that sucks. But everything I write does, so I'm getting used to it. I figured that everyone was beginning to get pissed that I haven't continued this yet after so long so… here you are! Lol.
PLEASE REVIEW! ((I know you want to…))