Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or his world. I just play with them sometimes, but I always put them back where I found them.
A/N: Again, check out beccalyse's, new fic, Learning How To Live, EPOV companion to Eyes Turned Skyward. She is the Alpha to my beta, and she always astounds me with every new chapter of awesome she sends me to read!
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In Divination that day, they were studying "the delicate and underappreciated art of inducing a psychic trance," as Professor Trelawney put it, so Harry did not need to pretend to pay attention, a small gift for which he was thankful. His mind crawled with alternating self-disgust and crowing pride, never quite resolving on either. He had no attention to give to Trelawney, her subject usually boring at best now holding no pull whatsoever, not when his chocolate-eyed goddess was somewhere else in the castle, diligently taking notes on Arithmancy. Or perhaps not, he mused. Perhaps she had already read the chapter and taken notes, and was now only giving the instructor her rapt, undivided attention, her thoughts untroubled by the night before. No matter how much he thought of Hermione and how oblivious she was, he could not stop the battle raging between his conscience and his selfishness.
On the one hand, he had kissed Hermione, completely betraying the rather misplaced trust she had in him. She had come to him to discuss her problems with Viktor Krum, a man intimidating in different ways both on and off the Quidditch pitch, who seemed determined to own her in every way possible. Frightened, confused and feeling alone, Hermione had come to him, had confided her deepest, most personal and embarrassing secret to him—his conscience pointed out that she would never confide in him again after finding out about this. She had cried herself to sleep in his arms, and, unable to be happy with just that personal contact with her, he had stolen a kiss from her sleeping, unknowing lips. There was a part of him telling him how wrong he had been, and he imagined that part to be Mrs. Weasley, whispering in his ear from the Burrow, where she stood at the sink doing dishes. That part wanted to run and find Hermione, explain everything, and fall to his knees to beg her endlessly for forgiveness.
On the other hand, however, he had kissed Hermione! Even if it were something to never be repeated again—which, Mrs. Weasley would interrupt, would of course be the most proper course of action, to pretend it hadn't happened and move on—he, Harry Potter had kissed Hermione Granger. Having never kissed a girl before, he wasn't sure if he had done it right—which, his selfish side would point out, was the advantage to practicing on a sleeping person—but Hermione's lips, unresponsive and unconscious though they were, had felt warm and perfect against his own. The breath slipping out of her was sweet and honeyed, tinted with tart orange, like her voice and eyes, and Harry knew that flavor would pervade every fiber of her body, though it was unbearably concentrated in her breath. He had smelled her at a more appropriate distance, of course, and understood her to smell clean and feminine, but until the moment his lips had hovered over hers, Harry had never realized that a scent could be so intoxicating. He had wanted to wake her with his kisses, drinking in her scent until he was sated, which he suspected would never happen. The inside of her mouth would be such a concentrated dose of her scent, Harry wasn't sure if he would die from the pleasure of kissing her so deeply, or merely become addicted to her honey breath, but he knew he wanted to find out. Given his reaction to kissing Hermione without her knowing, Harry could only imagine what it would feel like if she were kissing him back, though he knew that would never happen, he had to keep reminding himself of this. There was also a part of him exulting at his impulsive action, and he imagined a great, prideful lion, with a thick mane ruffling in the wind. The lion wanted him to run and find Hermione, explain everything, and sweep her into his arms and never let go.
As Mrs. Weasley and the lion argued in his head, Harry was able to distract himself for just a moment by thinking about Mrs. Weasley fighting a lion. He wasn't sure for whom he was more worried, but figured the lion would win in an outright fair fight.
The lion in his head purred victoriously at this realization, and Mrs. Weasley hit it with a wooden spoon.
But even his amusing imaginings weren't enough to keep Harry's mind away from his moral dilemma of the moment.
Harry sat with his gaze so transfixed on a small knot in the wood of the opposite wall that he was not aware of Trelawney's presence as she floated through the class, exclaiming delight at Harry's excellent first attempt, which was clearly resulting in a deep spiritual communication with other worlds. When Ron's hacking laughter pulled Harry from his own inner struggle, he was surprised to find Trelawney and most of the class staring at him in wonder and obviously impressed with something he had done.
"My dear," Trelawney said, gazing at him through the astoundingly thick lenses of her glasses, "you have gone to the other side and back. Tell us, what do you remember of your journey?"
"I—er," Harry stuttered, gaining snickers from the cynical members of the class. "I really can't remember anything. I was just focusing on that knot in the wood there, and I just…I don't know, I was just gone." He hoped fervently that Trelawney would be convinced by his pathetic attempt to fake his way out of detention, and was relieved when she became very understanding.
"To true clairvoyants like ourselves," she said sagely, "the visions will often reveal themselves in sleep. Tonight, sleep well and give yourself extra hours for dreams and sights. Your trance will return to you, mark my words."
Harry could only imagine the look on Hermione's face if she had been present to listen to Trelawney talking about Harry's clairvoyance. He knew she would make a scathing remark that the old bat had been trying to save face, because she had probably never had a real trance in her life. Harry happened to know this to be false, but didn't bring it up to the Hermione in his head, unsure of what her answer would be, and instead enjoying her attentions in his private world where they could not be disturbed. Luckily, Harry seemed to have been dazing off for most of the class, as Trelawney dismissed the class only a few minutes later, again reminding Harry and a few others who had seemed successful to, "sleep well, and dream."
As they exited a hidden corridor through a tapestry of Beadle the Bard, Ernie MacMillan spotted them and changed course in their direction.
"Does either of you two know what's going on with Granger?" he asked curiously.
"Er, no," Ron said in surprise, eyeing MacMillan. "Why? Is she sick or something?"
"No," Ernie replied quickly. "Er, at least I don't think so. She wasn't paying any attention in Arithmancy today, not that I can blame her. Dead boring, and difficult as all hell, too. But still, I've never seen her ignore a teacher before. Professor Vector was angry, I think, but too surprised to say anything about it. I was just wondering if you'd noticed anything odd lately."
"That's strange," Harry said, an uncomfortable feeling settling into his stomach. "She didn't say anything about it?"
"No, like I said, she was too surprised to see Hermione ignoring her," Ernie replied, not understanding Harry's question.
"No, I mean," Harry tried again, wondering how to word this without giving herself away, "did Hermione say anything? About why she was distracted, I mean?"
"Distracted," Ernie mused. "That's a good word for it. She didn't say anything at all, until Vector asked her a question, and she got it right of course, but it was like she was daydreaming or something. She had this happy look on her face, but then she'd get all angry looking, and then a little sad or something. At first I thought her stomach was upset, but then she kept looking really happy, like she was thinking about some bloke." Ernie looked suspiciously at Harry, who kept his face intentionally blank. "It was weird. I've never seen her look—well, I've never seen her look so much like a girl."
"Well," Harry said a bit too quickly, "thanks for letting us know. She was up late last night helping us with our makeup Potions essay, so that's probably it."
"Er, right," Ernie said, clearly hoping for more information on Hermione's strange behavior.
They continued on to meet Hermione so they could walk down to Care of Magical Creatures together, but it was lucky they had traveled this path through the castle before, because Harry was paying little attention to his feet. What Ernie had said about Hermione's strange behavior had unnerved him. What if she had been awake? He mulled over the implications of this as they continued down, but his mental Hermione seemed more interested in talking about Professor Trelawney's nonsense than having that awkward conversation right then. He was fine with that, and let her continue to rant in his mind's eye.
When Hermione came into view, they could see her hunched over her overstuffed bag, trying to find something, or, Harry thought with amusement, reorganizing to pass the time. He wondered if Hermione's need for organization would go so far, and decided that even if it did, it was an adorable habit he didn't want to mention for fear of embarrassing her out of it. She didn't seem to have noticed them even when they were feet from her, so Harry took a step forward and crouched down to her level, asking, "Looking for something?"
She jumped and mumbled, "No, just sorting things out."
Harry was pleased his guess had been right, and grinned broadly to himself. Hermione moved to stand up, struggling to balance her overloaded satchel, so he quickly offered her a hand up. At the precise moment he put out his hand for her, however, she turned her head away to adjust her bag, so that she did not see his attempt at chivalry and so that his hand was left hanging in the air while Hermione was oblivious and Ron guffawed silently. Harry elbowed him solidly in the ribs, and was still blushing furiously when Hermione finally looked up, saw his hand there, and flushed lightly herself.
"How was Divination?" she asked looking at Harry, though the question was meant for both boys. It had been only a matter of hours since he had seen Hermione, but Harry's heart still pounded in his chest as he met her gaze.
"Brilliant," Ron replied after a few moments of silence as the two others stared at one another. "Professor Trelawney didn't give us any homework at all."
"Professor Vector gave us loads," she replied glumly. "It'll take hours to get done by the next class."
Harry couldn't help but be a little disappointed that he wouldn't be able to stay up late with Hermione again, and began plotting excuses to remain by her side while she worked in the common room that night. His planning was cut short, however, when Ron mentioned Harry's journey "to the other side and back," and Trelawney's prediction that he would have visions in his sleep. But Hermione just scoffed and seemed to sink back into her thoughts as they crossed the Entrance Hall, pausing outside the Great Hall as Ron took a deep sniff to try to decipher the contents of lunch.
The three friends walked together through the great double doorway into the bright autumn sunlight. There was a tang of winter in the air, the foreboding sign of a frigid night to come. The sudden shift in temperature seemed to bring Hermione back to the present, and she immediately set in on Professor Trelawney, her annoyance growing when Ron again mentioned Harry's supposed clairvoyant visions. For the most part, Harry ignored their conversation, and just appreciated the irritated flush creeping up her cheekbones, noting the cause so that in the future, he could bring their conversation around again to Trelawney and wastes of academic effort on the frivolity of Divination, just so he could see that adorable rush of blood. Frankly, Harry couldn't help agreeing with Hermione's opinion on Divination, but had to admit that Trelawney had been right about one thing. His frighteningly lifelike visions, usually portents of actual occurrences, did usually come to him in the form of a dream, and he suddenly felt a vague sense of dread, as one does in a nightmare, knowing the monster is just around the corner, and knowing he knows you're there.
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For the first time in her life, Hermione found herself completely unable to concentrate on the lesson being given in class. She knew from her reading the previous day that they were beginning a new section on the Chaldean Method of numerical divination. Chaldean was supposed to be easier to calculate, as only the numbers one through eight were used, instead of the traditional one through nine, and her studies told her it was based on the old Aramaic alphabet, thereby having far fewer combinations available. However, because there were fewer combinations possible, it meant that reading the numerical divinations became that much harder, as they would have to search for patterns between numbers and connections across several ranges of calculations, something for which they had previously not been responsible.
She had thought she had her emotions in check, but she had begun to lose control again during her walk from the Great Hall to the Arithmancy classroom. As she'd lowered herself into her seat in the front row, the free time she had without outside stimulation allowed her mind to wander unchecked, and it ended up betraying her in the end. She could not keep Harry out of her mind. Hermione trembled delicately as she took out her books, quills, and notes, already outlined in accordance with the textbook and Professor Vector's usual method of lecture, and waiting to be filled in with the important details.
Professor Vector entered the room in a long swirl of deep purple robes, almost too formal for a classroom setting. Though her favorite subject had always been Arithmancy, Hermione had never found Professor Septima Vector to be an especially gifted teacher. She much preferred Professor McGonagall's dignified black robes and rigidly disciplined coursework to Professor Vector's bright jewel-toned clothing and mindlessly difficult homework assignments, the point of which was usually to fail. Due to Professor Vector's belief that a perfect grade must be earned in blood and that the best way to learn was to start with the most difficult variation of a problem, Hermione had had to work harder for her marks in Arithmancy than she had ever had to in Transfiguration. However, Hermione felt she had learned much more in Transfiguration under McGonagall's strict yet patiently watchful eye than struggling on her own or with classmates to decipher difficult Arithmancy problems.
Today, Hermione found Vector's lesson, not only difficult to understand, but simply boring. She found herself staring toward the ceiling, wondering if Harry was as bored in Divination as she was in Arithmancy, and wishing for the first time that she had not stormed out on Professor Trelawney's class. It was bad enough they had to be separated at night, but why would she have deliberately taken herself out of Harry's presence for a class several times per week? Hermione had to shake herself at her last thought, earning a what-is-wrong-with-you-today? look from Ernie Macmillan.
The responsible part of Hermione told her to pay attention, as Professor McGonagall paced nervously in her head, lecturing Hermione on the importance of her education, and reminding her that Arithmancy might be an important part of her future in the world. But Hermione, again for the first time that she could remember, was not interested in anything her mentor and favorite professor had to say. Gilderoy Lockhart was distracting her, though not in the way he once had. Rather, he was discussing with her what Harry would say if she admitted she had been awake for the kiss. She imagined the embarrassed flush that would rise to his cheeks. Harry didn't blush often, but when he did, Hermione enjoyed the color as it contrasted to his pale skin and dark hair. Lockhart beamed at her, pleased she was opening up to some emotions outside of her studies.
Hermione was so engrossed in a conversation with the Harry in her head, in which he found her in the library, and they discussed Transfiguration methods of animation, that she did not hear Professor Vector call on her until Ernie MacMillan reached across the aisle and poked her in the ribs. She jumped, earning a round of laughter from the students in the room and a furiously surprised look from Professor Vector, who had never seen Hermione fail to be at the peak of attention in her classroom. Hermione needed to hear the question twice before she could wrap her brain around the subject matter, but she eventually got the answer correct on the first try. Professor McGonagall gave her a tight-lipped stern glare, but Lockhart chuckled merrily, congratulating her quick thinking.
For the rest of the class, Hermione was beet red, utterly embarrassed, and still unable to concentrate on the room around her. As she slipped in and out of her daydreams, the others in the room kept glancing over at her, wondering what was wrong that was causing Hermione Granger, the great academic, to completely ignore her favorite subject. The rest of Arithmancy, which usually seemed not to last long enough for Hermione, suddenly couldn't pass quickly enough, even with Gilderoy Lockhart's Most Charming Smile encouraging her. Professor Vector, sensing that her best student wasn't even paying attention, seemed to give up and dismissed the class early with a much shorter assignment than usual. Hermione wasn't satisfied by this, however, because even though the class was over, she no longer had a distraction while she was waiting for Harry and Ron to meet her for their next class, Care of Magical Creatures.
She took a seat just outside of the classroom to wait for her friends and try to focus on the homework due for the next lesson. After several minutes of staring at the first problem, Hermione gave up and took out a fresh piece of parchment, savoring the smell for a moment, and then setting to work on her letter to Viktor. Harry's advance the night before—intentional or not—had given her the courage to set quill to parchment, checking the marble staircase every few seconds. She wanted to tell Harry herself about her decision to leave Viktor, so that she could perhaps see his reaction before telling him what had inspired her to do so.
In the polite, warm letter, she told him that, not only would she but unable to accept his proposal, but also that he was far too old for her and ready to settle down, while she still wanted to finish school and begin her own life before giving it to someone else. Because of this, she told him, it would be unfair to both of them for them to continue being a couple. She wrote that she would enjoy it if they continued to correspond through letters, and hoped that he would find happiness in someone who would be a better match than she.
When she was satisfied with the letter, Hermione folded it neatly and tucked it into her bag, then, when Harry and Ron had still not appeared, she began tediously and impatiently reorganizing her book bag, trying to spend as much time as possible completing the task.
As she finished repacking her bag, a foot came quickly into view, followed quickly by another foot, then a pair of knees, interrupted by, "Looking for something?" and followed in rapid succession by a torso, shoulders, neck, and the familiar teasing face of her best friend as Harry knelt down in front of her. The suddenness of his arrival startled Hermione enough to make her jump, though she quickly regained herself and stood up as gracefully as she could manage, thrown off-balance as she was by the weight of her books.
She turned when she heard a nearly silent choking noise coming from Ron and noticed that Harry was blushing scarlet. For a moment, she was so thrilled to see that lovely color in his skin that she didn't stop to realize why he seemed so embarrassed. Then she noticed his hand, still held out in a way that showed her he'd been offering to help her to her feet, but she hadn't noticed it, or she certainly would have accepted. Any excuse to hold his hand again like yesterday.
"How was Divination?" she asked, looking at Harry, though it was Ron who eventually answered.
"Brilliant. Professor Trelawney didn't give us any homework at all."
"Professor Vector gave us loads," she replied, not at all excited to work on the Chaldean Method. "It'll take hours to get done by the next class." This admittance made Hermione think of all the hours she'd be unable to spend with Harry that evening, while she was holed up in the library working on Professor Vector's stupid homework assignment.
"Too bad for you," Ron said lightly. "We were practicing sleeping in class today. Of course, when the old bat saw Harry sleeping with his eyes open, she said he'd 'journeyed to the other side and back,' or some other rubbish. She'll do anything to make it look as though we've learnt something from her, after last year."
Hermione was busy wondering what reason she could give Harry to go with her that evening, but was paying enough attention to the tone of the conversation to know she should make a disparaging remark about whatever Ron had just said. Not knowing the topic of conversation, however, she settled with a safe, noncommittal scoff before continuing to walk down the nighttime corridors of Hogwarts with Harry. She suddenly realized that she could only finish her homework in one sitting if she stayed in the library past hours, and Hermione was struck with just how to spend an evening with Harry, in a completely plausible way. It even had the possibility of recreating the scene from the night before. Perhaps if Harry knew of the letter now burning a hole in her bag, he wouldn't be secretive about things. Because, surely, he had waited until she was asleep because he didn't want to impugn her honor by kissing a promised woman, though, she thought wryly, it was more like a requested woman at the time. Now, she was a free woman.
With her dangerous hope for that night firmly in place, Hermione pulled herself back to the present, to the great pride of her mental Professor McGonagall, until she realized her best student was ignoring thinking about Harry in lieu of looking at him. As they exited onto the grounds, there was a slight chill in the air, and Hermione found herself wondering how cozy the library would be with a dusting of snow on the windows. Mental Lockhart agreed that it would be very romantic indeed, and urged her to carry on until then, to see what might unfold in the meantime.
Suddenly remembering what Ron had said, she quickly agreed, "Honestly, I don't know why Dumbledore keeps her on. It's not as though you've actually seen anything in the future with her."
"Arithmancy is just Divination with numbers!" Ron argued, glad that at least one of his friends was acting normally again.
"Exactly," Hermione retorted, back in her element. "Numbers and calculations are solid, they are based in theory, not like reading tea leaves, and—what were you doing today?" The oddity of his statement about sleeping in class had just hit her.
"Inducing trances," Ron replied. "And when Harry was daydreaming, she told him he'd remember the other worlds he'd visited when he goes to sleep tonight."
"Oh, honestly," she said again, though she could think of nothing more original to say, because at that moment, Hermione noticed Harry watching her intently from the corner of his eye. She felt a flush glowing up her face, and tucked into a heated, yet clichéd stream of insults toward Divination and Professor Trelawney, trying to hide her reaction to her best friend.
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A/N: Ok, so I lied, no physical fluff yet, though you know it's coming! Lots of cute lovey-dovey times in this chapter, though!
Thanks to all my reviewers from the last chapter, and to everyone who didn't review but still sat patiently waiting for the update email!
To prove that I do read (and try to respond to) all my signed reviewers, my favorite line from a review for Chapter 4 was from TheTimma: "As much as I H8 waiting for anything at this level of win, I'd wait a little longer for the fluffiness to be added."
Rock on, keep reading, and as always, review!
cj596