Late night Birthday gifts, awkward laughing and goofy grins.
Disclaimer: nope, still not mine. Honest. It's still J.k. Rowlings book. Lucky.
Harry tossed and turned, further tangling the blankets around his ankles. He rubbed at his eyes before throwing his arms down in frustration, returning to glaring up at the ceiling for the hundredth time that evening… or… morning; he wasn't even sure.
A week or so had passed, and it was his birthday, and a 'party' had taken place earlier that day. If Harry were to be held at wand point and forced to tell the truth, he would admit that it was a rather gloomy affair, but he was grateful none the less, he'd never had a birthday party before, and he appreciated the effort and gifts greatly. The only person who hadn't given him anything was Hermione, which, if he were being honest, he didn't really mind; he hadn't wanted anyone to get him anything, really. He was still surprised though, considering their development over the last three weeks, gentle slaps to the shoulder lingered and led to a light squeeze, their hands were seemingly drawn to one another when both tried to reach for something at the table, always sitting that little bit too close to one another; any excuse to touch each other, they'd take without even knowing it.
The raven-haired wizard hadn't slept a wink. His mind was far too awake for such things, and frankly, he was also very aware that if his body did allow him to sleep, memories would quickly plague his dreams, and he'd scream the house down.
He'd already had to deal with the Dursley's almost nightly; until Tonks had volunteered to place a silencing spell on his room since he couldn't perform magic outside of Hogwarts just yet. Though he knew the Weasley's would never threaten to kick him out or physically take their anger out on him for merely waking them up, he already felt like he was imposing and definitely did not want to trouble them any more than he already had.
With no way of casting the needed charm and his last bit of patience evaporating, he grabbed his glasses and pulled himself out of bed.
The hardwood floor was cold underfoot as he searched around for a jumper, intending on sitting on the porch outside and thinking about matters that didn't include veils and Godfathers.
When he did find the item of clothing, he pulled it over his head and reached into the bedside drawer for a pair of socks, reading the time on the clock as he did so.
11:07 am. "Last hour of my birthday, I suppose.." Harry mumbled to himself as he pulled on his socks, not terribly excited with the information.
Once he was certain he had everything he needed, he quickly made his way to the door.
He opened the door, his eyes downcast.
He'd taken three steps before he crashed into something small, brown, and bushy.
The figure and himself both let out an audible grunt, the latter following with a gasp of surprise.
" Hermione?" He whispered as he rubbed at where she'd made an impact on his chest, "What are you doing?" He looked her up and down, she was wearing a pair of blue checkered pyjama pants that were rolled at the bottom; obviously too big for her, they were paired with a light blue oversized hoodie that looked like it was several years old, her dark curls were pulled into a messy bun, loose pieces sprung free, twisting in odd directions.
Even in the darkness of the hallway, he could see her face turn scarlet at the question, her hands fumbling together. "I had a nightmare- well, sort of… And I- Well, I didn't think I should- didn't want to wake Ginny, so I came to you- I mean was coming to you, I was sort of hoping- I mean, I was wondering if you would be-" She whispered frantically without even drawing a breath, her face turning an even darker shade of red as she continued to ramble.
"Come on," He interrupted her explanation, grabbing her hand and pulling her into his room. He reached behind him, the door clicking quietly as he closed it gently.
He led her over to his bed; his cheeks tinged pink as several thoughts popped into his head. "What's up?" The young wizard questioned, his voice a fraction higher than usual; she still hadn't let go of his hand.
The brunette sighed, he previous blush still prominent behind her freckles, "I had an odd sort of dream- a nightmare to be exact… I've had them a lot since…" the Ministry.
A lump formed in his throat at her expression, and he squeezed her hand, "Hermione…"
"But tonight it was different and- oh…" She cut him off, brown eyes sparkling in the darkroom. "I just didn't want to be alone… I wanted to make sure you were okay." Her lip was caught between her teeth, causing Harry's gaze to flicker towards them, yet only briefly.
"Why wouldn't I be okay?" Harry asked curiously.
"In the dream…" She started, her grip on his hand tightening. "We're in the defence office… and Umbridge, she curses you," The young witch continued, just above a whisper. "And I can't stop it." She squeezed her eyes shut. "She just keeps yelling 'crucio, crucio.' over and over again- and you're in so much pain. I keep screaming, I try and tell her to stop, but no one can hear me. She wouldn't stop..." Her eyes opened, unshed tears swimming in front of her brown orbs.
"Oh, 'Mione…" Harry mumbled before pulling her into his arms and letting her cry, a wave of Deja Vu washing over him as her tears dampened his recently obtained jumper. "I'm right here. I'm okay; I'm right here with you." He assured her, rubbing circles onto her back.
After a moment, Hermione pulled back a fraction, sniffing and rubbing at her eyes swiftly. "M'sorry…" She let out a choked laugh, "I've been all emotional since you got here, and it honestly all seems rather silly now that I'm saying it out loud, don't say anything." She added before he could respond. "Anyway," The young Gryffindor briskly changed the subject, wiping her face one final time. "I wanted to give your gift," A small smile graced her face as she glanced at the clock, "In private." Harry nodded in understanding.
Hermione pulled two small boxes from her oversized hoodie's pocket; one was wrapped in green wrapping paper and was similar to the shape of a pencil pouch; the second box was a small one that looked as though it were from a jeweller. Her eyes flickered between the two, mentally deciding which would be better to give first. "Open... this one first," The brunette handed over the long, wrapped box, their fingers brushing as he accepted it.
Harry slowly ripped away the wrapping to reveal a wooden glasses case; he glanced up at Hermione with a raised eyebrow; she looked nervous, unsure of his reaction. "Open it." She instructed quietly.
He did just that, gently lifting the lid; his breath caught in his throat as he saw what was inside.
"Mione…" He choked out, lifting the slightly larger glasses from the case; he held them with the utmost care, afraid he'd break them. "Are these?-"
"They're your Father's," Her eyes softened. She moved closer to him so she could see the gift. "Remus found them and asked if I'd want to give them to you as he already had something planned." The young witch explained. "They're charmed to match your eyesight, so if your eyes change over the years, they'll adapt."
The raven-haired boy raised a hand to his current pair of glasses and took them off, placing them on the nightstand. He eyed the now blurry pair of spectacles in his hands before placing them on his nose, blinking slightly as he adjusted to the new lenses. "Woah…" Harry turned to face Hermione; he could see her even more clearly than before; every feature was sharper and defined in the moonlit room. "I-" He paused, his voice not trustworthy at that moment. "Thank you…" He murmured, a wobbly smile slowly growing on his face; she returned it with her own.
"Come on, next one." She placed the final box in his lap, moving her chin to his shoulder.
He lifted the lid of the smaller, square box, along with the piece of fabric that hid the actual gift.
His face nearly split from the grin that formed.
A silver ring with a flattened top, carved in the metal, was the familiar outline of a hippogriff that was charmed to fly about the jewellery. "Just like…"
"Third year," Hermione finished, her voice muffled into his jumper.
He turned to her, placing the box to the side for a moment and pulling her into a hug for the second time that night. "Thank you, Hermione. Really." He said earnestly, burying his face in her hair.
They stayed like that for several minutes, neither wanting to let go, both comfortable in each other's embrace.
When they did pull apart, however, the mood seemed to shift. He found himself in a position he'd been pinned in several times since his breakup with Cho, right in front of her.
Their breath mingled together as they stared at one another, both taking each other in as they had several times previously, gazes simultaneously falling upon the other's mouth.
Harry was frozen. Nothing was stopping him, no Ron, no Ginny; there wasn't a Weasley insight. No distractions, no interruptions...
And that made Harry's stomach drop.
"Honestly, thank you, Hermione." He repeated in an attempt to break the silence, licking his suddenly dry lips; he saw Hermione's eyes dart towards them at the movement.
"You're welcome." The girl in front of him mumbled, her breath warm on his lips as she spoke. Their heads were moving closer on their own accord. He watched her anxiously, his heart hammering in his chest.
He saw her make the decision in her eyes, just before he'd gathered all his Gryffindor courage to make the move himself. With one shaky exhale, her gaze switching between his eyes and lips, she inched forward, leaving their lips just a centimetre apart.
"Happy birthday, Harry." She breathed before closing the remaining distance between them.
A wave of emotions washed over him, and they both let out synchronized sighs of relief. Their lips remained closed, and their eyes were squeezed shut; Harry thought his heart would explode.
They both pulled back abruptly, unsure of what had just happened, trying to determine whether or not this was real. Their eyes were wide, and both were blushing to the roots of their hair. Neither would know who moved first, the whole experience was somewhat blended together and moved so fast, but in an instant, they had surged forward and clung to one another as if their life depended on it, kissing one another with everything they had.
This kiss was fast and urgent; all of the built-up desires from the previous months of buried enticement made it tremendously more intense than they could control. An upsurge of foreign emotions swirled from the pit of Harry's stomach and rose into his chest.
Harry immediately buried a hand in her luscious dark locks, his other hand curling around her back to support them both; he felt light-headed as they kissed each other desperately, their lips melding together as though they'd done it hundreds of times before.
He felt Hermione slip a hand into his own hair, gripping at the raven curls in a way that made his head spin; she had a death grip on the neck of his jumper as she returned the kiss full force.
The young wizard untangled his hand from Hermione's hair and left it to rest on the nape of her neck; he felt Hermione gasp as he touched the delicate skin; a soft groan soon followed it as he swiftly took it as a chance to slip his tongue into her open mouth, she met him with her own and fervently deepened the kiss.
Several minutes went by before the tension that had built up throughout the past few months; the same tension that had been fueling them began to drain, their kisses slowed, and their grip on one another loosened.
When they did drag themselves apart, Harry pressed his forehead to hers; eyes still closed as he caught his breath, he chanced a look at her; her eyes were hooded, and she too was panting, her cheeks flushed and a ghost of a smile on her lips.
"Hi." Hermione grinned breathlessly, as if she'd just remembered he was there.
"Hi yourself." Harry shot back, mirroring her grin with his own.
The brunette snorted, the slight awkwardness and shyness in the air sparked some amusement within the two, laughter bubbling out of them both until they were slumped against each other, attempting to stifle their laughter before they woke the entire house up.
"We've gone wrong." After several minutes of comfortable silence, he heard the muffled statement and grinned, moving to kiss the top of her head.
"Nah," He protested, dismissing her words with a wave of his hand, "I think we're just about right."
Hermione snorted, lifting her head to reveal her flushed face and tangled hair, tears of mirth in her eyes, much different to the ones they held earlier; her smile startled him; it was so unlike any he had seen her wear before; he'd never seen her look so beautiful. "Mione, are we-"
"We can talk tomorrow," She brought a finger to his lips, tracing their shape. "I ought to be getting back to my own room; if I don't go now, I don't think I will at all." She muttered, looking reluctant to leave.
"Mhm…" Harry silently agreed; the last thing he needed was Ginny waking up and realizing her roommate wasn't there. "I… thank you, Hermione- for the gifts… and everything else."
"Someone had to stop all the tiptoeing around and do something, honestly, Harry." She snickered, catching his hand as he went to push her shoulder lightly. "And stop thanking me; you most certainly allowed my mind to drift from nightmares; I should be the one thanking you."
He rose from the bed, using their joined fingers to help Hermione up, reaching for the door handle with his free hand. He poked his head out into the dark hallway, checking for any signs of a wandering Weasley, before gesturing for her to step out. She didn't move.
"Hermio–?" His confusion was swallowed when Hermione raised on her toes and pulled his head down into a gentle, goodnight kiss, her lips coaxing his. It was calm and loving, opposite to their previous release of pent-up emotions. Their arms remained by their sides, save their interlocked hands.
"Sorry," She apologized, not sounding at all sorry, "I just like that I can do that." She bit her lip; Harry had to refrain from kissing her again at the movement. "Goodnight, Harry." The young witch backed out of the room, stretching their locked hands out as far as they would go without Harry moving, before finally releasing him and turning in the direction of her room.
"Night, Hermione." He replied in a hushed tone when he could no longer see her, a grin permanently glued on his still flushed face.
That grin was still present when Harry lay in bed later that night, oblivious to the identical smile plastered on a certain bushy-haired witch, just three doors down.
The next morning, Harry woke up feeling more rested than he had in a long time, despite the late hour he had slept by.
He reached over for his glasses, smiling as he placed the new frame on his nose. Now able to see, and with the added sunlight leaking through the open blinds, he took another look at the ring on his finger, smiling as he watched the magical creature fly. The young wizard felt himself blush at the reminder of the previous night's events; he had felt the tiniest need to know whether it was real.
Unable to waste any more time, he hauled himself out of bed and searched the room for his toiletries and the new (actually fitting) clothes Tonks had gifted him the day prior after taking pity on his oversized hand-me-downs. After a quick shower, he was dressed in a plain black shirt and blue jeans. It felt unusual, and a little bit uncomfortable to have the material clinging to his legs, yet light and more manoeuvrable; he was so used to the weight of rolled-up ends and extra fabric.
Pleased with his appearance, he followed the smell of bacon and eggs, his stomach rumbling as he descended the stairs. He wanted to see her, a little need of reassurance that what had happened last night was true.
However, when Harry did make it to the bottom of the stairs, his mouth went dry. Hermione was sat on the living room couch, her face red as the smirking girl's hair next to her; she took one look at Harry and laughed outright.
"I knew it!" The youngest Weasley sing-songed, "She had no choice but to tell me everything after she snuck back in at daft o'clock in the morning," She skipped over to Harry, only to elbow him in the ribs. "Took you long enough." Ginny chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye.
Harry spluttered, very much frozen in place.
"Took who long enough for what?" He heard behind him; he felt his blood run cold; he chanced a look at Hermione, who couldn't meet his eye.
"The lovebirds did us a favour and finally snogged." Her choice of words made the couple flinch, and everything went silent.
"Thank. Merlin!" Ron released through a seemingly long-held breath after an equally long moment; he rested his hands on his knees, looking and sounding like he had just run a marathon. "It's about bloody time." He made a phew sound before wiping pretend sweat from his forehead. "I didn't know how much longer I'd last with all the tension." He shivered, dodging the punch Harry sent his way. "Well, I hope you're aware that I fully intend on third-wheeling as much as humanly possible; we are still the golden trio." He joked as he pulled his best friend over to where Hermione was sat; she was the only one who saw the anxious look cross his face, "Right?" He added, Hermione scoffed.
"Of course, Ron." The brunette pulled him into a hug.
"Always." Harry spoke for the first time, patting his best mates shoulder as he pulled away.
"Kids? Breakfast is ready!" Molly suddenly bellowed, making all four teens jump.
"As much as I love all this sappy stuff, my stomach calls," Ron shrugged, making a move to bolt into the kitchen. "Oh, by the way, nice glasses, Harry." He complimented the larger frames before rushing towards the source of the glorious smell; Harry nearly fell over.
Who would have thought Ron Weasley could be so observant?
I may suck at writing kiss scenes, but at least I've never written the sentence "tongues battle for dominance" in any of my stories.