He turned his head and lightly kissed her forehead. He couldn't wait for their study date.
CHAPTER 6: Unsought Nicknames and Stolen Kisses
Harry fidgeted at his place on the cold stone floor. His eyes were going over the words and charts that he oh-so-adamantly avoided for the last two days. Nothing had changed in those days, he was still having trouble understanding them. He threw a glance at the classroom door, there was still plenty of time for the exam to finish. But it was Hermione he was waiting for, she never needed all the time the professors gave them for their exams. Unless she felt inspired and wrote her own questions to answer.
Harry chuckled to himself as he turned a few pages back to study the chart again. As far as he could tell, he was doing everything right. He took the wand he had rested behind his ear (sometimes, Luna could be a bad influence) and pointed it at the quill he had on his other palm. He flicked his wand clockwise and made a sharp stop, all the while concentrating on turning the quill into a feather.
Nothing.
They were learning non-verbal transfiguration and according to the book, the easiest transformations were made between related things. So Harry was trying to turn his quill into its original form for the last hour and still hadn't managed anything close. The twice broken and once burned quill was still that, a quill that was repaired too many times.
Harry sighed and turned the pages again. He must be skipping some important information. He started reading the chapter from the start, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the corner of the page. He didn't want Hermione to think he had done nothing and left everything to their study date. And he also didn't want to fail this exam which seemed very likely at the moment. He forced himself to concentrate on the words instead of stressing over the exam.
"Fuck!" He cursed at the sudden pain, shooting a furious glare at the papercut on his thumb.
"You get used to it after a while."
Harry directed his stare from his mildly bleeding finger to the source of the voice. Hermione was standing a few feet away, her book bag was slinging from her shoulder and there was a soft smile on her lips.
"The paper cut. You get used to it after a while." She closed the gap between them and knelt beside him, taking his hand between hers. With an expert swish of her wand and a muttered incantation later, his thumb was better than ever. "It happens so often to me, I learned how to heal them."
"Always the practical one," Harry grinned. The pain had subdued immediately. "But you could kiss it too, you know, to make the pain go away."
The light colouring of her cheeks and the slight smile on her lips were what encouraged Harry as he clasped her hand in his.
"Actually it still hurts a little," he murmured, pulling her softly towards him. He heard her gasp at the sudden closeness.
Hermione's eyes moved from their clasped hands to his eyes. Harry could see the different emotions swirling in them: excitement, confusion, surprise, indecision… And then they flickered down to his lips for a split second and that was enough to make his breath hitch in his throat.
And the sound was enough to make Hermione come to her senses. She pulled back with a flustered smile.
"If I knew you were waiting for me, I'd come out earlier. I was just killing time."
"I take it that it went well," Harry grinned, trying to hide his disappointment as he put his book in his bag. He was so close, just a few inches more and he would have tasted her lips for the first time.
"I answered all of the questions."
"And I expected nothing less." Harry's proud response was welcomed with a pretty blush she tried to hide behind her curls.
"So did you study?" Hermione changed the topic, pulling him to his feet as she got up. They started walking towards the Great Hall, it was still early enough to catch breakfast.
"I did but I can't say I've been successful in my tries," Harry sighed. Hermione squeezed his hand.
"It's okay, we'll figure out what you are doing wrong." Hermione's confident reassurance filled Harry with comfort. He smiled in response. "Did you finish with the theoretical part?"
"Yeah, I know the theory. I think I can answer the questions. The problem is with the practice. I can't do non-verbal spells."
"Alright, then we'll be in the library all afternoon, practising non-verbal transfiguration until you can do it in your sleep."
"I hope an afternoon is enough."
"Come on now! Have some confidence, you're He-Who-Defeated-Voldemort-With-An-Expelliarmus." Hermione bumped his hip with hers.
"Hey! You know that's my least favourite nickname." Harry bumped back, trying to hold back his smile.
"You mean you have a favourite one?" Hermione asked with a grin. Her eyes were twinkling with mischief.
"No." Harry turned his head away with mock hurt. If Hermione was in a playful mood, he could tag along. "Alright, Hogwarts' Star Seeker is nice."
Hermione laughed, "If you say so."
"What's your favourite one?" Harry grinned.
They were still holding hands despite the few people scattered along the corridor. Their affection for each other wasn't something big enough to start gossip around school. Both Harry and Ron could be seen walking with their arms around Hermione's shoulders or Hermione holding onto their arms. But for Harry, this was different. He could feel the gentle pressure of her fingers tangled with his, his thumb occasionally grazing her palm. This was intimate.
"Oh," Hermione said, her brows furrowed in thought. "The Boy Who Can Finally Live was nice," she answered at last.
"Yeah, the Quibbler did a good job with that," Harry smiled, remembering the article he did with Luna after the war. To say the least, it was an interesting experience. "But I'm talking about your nicknames. What's your favourite one?"
"Pfft, I don't have nicknames."
"Yeah, right, the Brightest Witch of Her Age."
"But people don't call me that. It's just you guys," Hermione answered.
She let go of his hand as they entered the Great Hall. It was mildly crowded with half the castle taking their exams. They found Ron sitting close to the doors and stuffing his face with all the food he can get without leaving his seat.
"So?" Harry asked as he sat beside Ron.
"So, it doesn't count." Hermione took the seat across from them.
"What doesn't count?" Ron asked, his mouth was full but they could understand him thanks to years of experience.
"Hermione thinks the Brightest Witch of Her Age isn't her nickname," Harry said, as he passed the tea cup he filled to Hermione and took the pumpkin juice she got for him. Both muttering a silent thank you to each other.
"Well, it is," Ron said matter-of-factly. "Although I like Miss Killed-Or-Worse-Expelled better."
Shooting a deathly glare at Harry who was laughing/suffocating over his pumpkin juice, Hermione humphed, "Well, that is even more illegitimate."
"Huh?"
Harry's problem with the pumpkin juice got bigger upon Ron's confusion with Hermione's big words.
"Nobody calls me that," Hermione sighed in resignation. "Alright… I guess, the Brains of the Golden Trio is nice." She had directed this at Harry, answering his earlier question.
Harry, finally able to breathe without coughing, nodded, "Yeah, that's a good one. Better than Won-Won."
"Hey!"
This time it was Hermione's turn to laugh while Ron shot daggers at Harry.
"Alright, Mr Most Eligible Bachelor of the Wizarding World!" Ron's words silenced them for a second but upon catching Hermione's eyes over the table, they began laughing again, harder than ever.
"Sorry, Ron but still better than Won-Won."
Ron's answer to Hermione was angrily stuffing his mouth with sausage.
"Wait a minute," Harry said, sobering up. "If you are the Brains, what are we?"
Harry's question was met with silence from both sides. Hermione raised her eyebrows as she took a deliberate sip of her tea.
"I don't know. Not the brains, that's for sure," she answered before taking a bite from her scone. "Why are these not as good?" Harry heard her mutter.
"Well, I can be the Brawn," Ron joined in the conversation once again, eager to find himself a new nickname. Harry was going to object but compared to his lean figure, Ron was definitely the muscle of their friend group.
"Okay but what am I, then?" He sighed, pointlessly hung-up on the topic. As if defining his job in their little group was the most important problem in his life. It wasn't, but it was nice to be able to obsess over something other than life and death situations.
"Oi, already bored with your other nicknames, the Golden Boy of Hogwarts?" Harry didn't have time to respond as Hermione quipped from the other side of the table,
"Leave the Chosen One alone, Ron. Tell me, are you ready for transfiguration?" Harry didn't know whether to respond Hermione's nickname war or be grateful that she made Ron shut up about it.
"Yeah, I can easily get an A, maybe if I'm lucky an E."
Harry turned towards Ron with wide eyes, "Can you do the non-verbal transfiguration?" How come Ron could do it without proper studying and he couldn't?
Ron nodded as he took out his wand. He flicked his wand towards his knife. The knife suddenly grew three prongs like a fork however its side was still sharp like a knife.
"See easily an A," Ron said, lifting his real fork to his mouth to take another bite of the sausage. Harry took the transfigured knife in his hand, he couldn't even do this.
"You can do better, Ron." Hermione's voice broke through his thoughts. He had to do better than this, too. This was okay for a beginner but it wasn't functional. He didn't want an A, he wanted to be able to do non-verbal spells.
"Yeah, but it's enough to pass," Ron said with a shrug. "I have all my life to work on it but only half a day to study. So for now, this will do."
Hermione rolled her eyes over her teacup but refrained from saying anything. Harry knew she had a lot to say but over the years, Hermione and Ron had learned what to say and what not to say to minimise their arguments.
"What? An A is not enough for you, Herms?" Well, maybe Ron had a long way ahead of him to get there.
Harry's eyes widened as Ron's fork got stuck in his mouth as he was taking a bite from his sausage. Hermione calmly put her wand away and took another bite from her scone.
"God, why are these not as good?"
Harry rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses as Hermione repaired his broken quill once again. He had lost count of how many times he had to repair his quill for the last two hours.
They were sitting at the plush red sofa in front of the fire like last night but this time, Ron was taking a nap, Hermione was studying for their DADA exam and Harry was driving himself crazy with his failures.
"Harry?" Hermione's concerned voice made him look behind his fingers. "Are you sure you don't want my help? We don't have to wait for the evening to start, you know?"
This was the third time Hermione had made this offer. Harry had kindly refused the first two because he didn't want to steal her time from studying for other exams but it was getting harder to turn down her help.
"I'm good, 'Mione. You finish studying for Defence, then we can study together," Harry said as he concentrated once again on his quill. With a flick of his wand, his battered quill caught on fire. Before Harry could do anything other than grunt in frustration, Hermione put out the small fire.
"Come on, let's go," she said as she pulled him to his feet. "We both know we don't have to study for Defence, this is more important."
Without letting go of his hand, Hermione steered them out of the portrait hole, towards the library.
"I don't understand," Harry whined as they were waiting for the stairs to stop moving. "I'm doing everything right. If I knew it was this hard, I'd start studying last week."
"It's okay." Hermione squeezed his hand as they got off the stairs before they started moving again. "It's not that hard once you get the hang of it."
"I don't understand," Harry said again, this time whispering as they had just entered the library. "How can Ron do it and I can't?" Upon seeing Hermione's amused expression he continued, "I don't mean it that way."
"I know," Hermione reassured him as they settled in their usual table at the back of the library, near the Restricted Section. Because students usually preferred sitting closer to the shelves they could actually use, it was almost always deserted. As it was the case now.
"It's just…" Harry sighed and opened his book to the pages he had memorised by now. "He can do it with barely studying, at least he can do something that resembles a transfiguration. I can't even do that."
"You don't want to do 'something that resembles a transfiguration' though." Harry nodded, affirming her words. "You're not satisfied with doing things half-arsed. Contrary to Ron."
Harry nodded once again, this time with a slight smirk. This was what Hermione had swallowed that morning to avoid an argument with Ron.
"You don't like giving people an opportunity to criticise you. Because there are a lot of them, aren't there? Watching your every step, waiting for you to stumble."
"I don't care about they think," Harry said, almost as a reflex. He didn't want to care about what other people think about him.
"I know. But it still puts a pressure on you."
Hermione's words were the beginning of a comfortable silence. Harry fixed his eyes on his book, although his mind was far away, replaying Hermione's words over and over. Finally, he raised his stare to her face, his eyes squinting in recognition.
"You feel like that too, don't you? That's why you can analyse how I feel so well."
"Well, my life isn't that much different than yours." Hermione shrugged, "People are expecting a lot from me, too. Miss Perfect, the Know-It-All, the Brightest Witch of Her Age, the best friend of the Chosen One." She winked at him on the last nickname people had labelled her with.
"And now the girlfriend of the Most Eligible Bachelor of the Wizarding World," Harry added with a small grin.
"Yeah," Hermione nodded with a smile of her own. "All of these labels, too much pressure."
"You don't have to care about them," Harry repeated his earlier words.
"Yeah," she nodded once more. "I don't care that much now. But I didn't know that a few years ago." Hermione sighed. There was a faraway look in her eyes, as if she was remembering a specific moment. "As you very well know, being eleven and alone in a world you know nothing about is a scary thing. So difficult. And to think that I had never been good at fitting in…"
Her voice had faded but Harry didn't interfere. She had things to say. Although they had talked about many things, especially after the war, they had seldom talked about their life before Hogwarts, before they had learned they belonged to another world.
"I guess what's different between you and me is that we have different coping mechanisms," she started again. Her voice was soft but Harry knew it wasn't because they were in the library. "You could easily make friends, they liked you for who you are… It was easy for you to blend in. I couldn't do that." She took a deep breath, he could hear the shakiness of it. "I… I was never good at making friends, even before I came here. So, I studied, first to prove myself, that I was worth their recognition, and then here, to prove that I was as good as them. That it was not important that I was a Muggleborn, I could do magic just like them."
"Even better," Harry whispered.
"Even better," Hermione laughed silently. "Until you barged in that lavatory and jumped on the back of a twelve-foot mountain troll. After that moment, I only wanted to prove myself worthy of your friendship."
Harry's mouth dropped open at that declaration. "Hermione-"
"I don't care about what other people think, Harry. You believed in me and that was enough for me." Harry shut his mouth and nodded. His hand going over to clasp hers as she rested her head on his shoulder.
"I guess we are more alike than I thought," he muttered, before leaning over to kiss her temple. "I don't care about what others think but you're right, it puts an unnecessary pressure on me… Being the Saviour of the Bloody Wizarding World and not being able to transfigure a damn quill into a feather."
Hermione laughed and leaned back. Going into her tutoring mode, she took his wand and handed it over to him.
"Let's see what you're doing wrong."
Harry took a deep breath and flicked his wand clockwise, ending the movement with a sharp stop, just like he had been doing all day. And just like it had been all day, nothing happened.
"Concentrate."
Harry humphed at her advice, his head was splitting because of concentrating so much.
"I am concentrating. But nothing happens."
"Try again, you can do this."
Harry furrowed his brows in concentration, focusing on the quill laying on the table and waved his wand.
Nothing.
"Arrgh! I'm going crazy!" Harry exploded, as much as he could in a library.
"Okay, I got it," Hermione said as if her boyfriend wasn't having a nervous breakdown beside her. "You don't believe anything will happen."
"What?" Hermione's diagnose had stopped his grunting.
"You don't believe you can do it," she said simply.
Harry humphed once again, "I think about transfiguring the quill into a feather. I imagine the feather with all its details and I do the wand movements right. And nothing happens. What does belief have anything to do with this?"
Hermione shook her head, "What do you mean? Believing is everything." The incredulous tone of her voice was what made Harry realise she was serious.
"Huh?"
Hermione sighed at the confused look on his face. "The fundamental of magic is believing, Harry. You have to believe that you are capable of doing it. I thought you knew."
"No one said anything about believing to me," Harry said, waving his hand in the direction of the open book in front of him. "I thought wands and incantations were the fundamentals of magic."
"Well, they are fundamental for doing magic too, of course. But if you don't believe deep down that you can do it than you can't."
Harry scratched his head in confusion. "But why now? I had no problem with casting spells before."
"I don't know," Hermione shrugged. "Maybe you're too stressed."
"More stressed than I was when I faced Voldemort?" Harry asked with a sarcastic smile.
"No, of course not but that was a different kind of stress. You weren't stressed about not being able to perform a spell. You were stressed about-"
"Staying alive," Harry finished, understanding her trail of thought. "Okay, I think I got what you are saying."
They stayed silent for a few minutes, Harry thinking about what Hermione said and Hermione letting Harry analyse the new information.
"But what about accidental magic? I mean… When I was little, I didn't know I could do magic. How could I believe I could do it when I didn't-"
"When you didn't know magic existed?" Hermione finished for him. "Well, there are several theories about accidental magic, especially for Muggleborn children."
"And you think?"
"When we are children, it's our hearts that do the believing and as we get older our minds take the lead," Hermione said with a wistful smile, "Think about it, children believe in fairies that collect their fallen teeth and a fat man that sneaks down chimneys to drop them presents and that they can be superheroes when they grow up. And when they grow up, they don't become superheroes, they become adults who only believe in themselves."
"And if they don't believe in themselves?" Harry muttered, captivated by her explanation.
"Then they are adults who lack self-confidence." Hermione smiled dismally. "That doesn't mean all wizards and witches have self-confidence, Harry. You can't do magic just with pure belief. That would be too easy. No, we have talent. We have magic in our bones or in our blood according to some blood supremacists. Maybe in our souls, it doesn't matter. What matters is that we have something special in us that enables us to do magic. And belief is what makes us a better witch or wizard."
"Wow," Harry managed at last. 'How come they never taught any of these in Hogwarts?'
"Interesting, yeah? But these are all in theory. There are other theories as well. Don't take my words as the sole truth." Hermione smiled as she always did when she talked about something she read in a book.
"You convinced me," Harry laughed, feeling lighter than half an hour ago when they had come to the library. "So you are saying if I can't do a spell that's because in my head, I don't believe I can do it."
"Yeah, basically."
"Then if I believe it, I can do the most difficult spells ever created?"
"Yes."
Harry frowned at her simple answer. "But, Hermione, then anyone can be the most powerful wizard or witch if it's that easy."
Hermione shook her head with a wistful smile, "Believing something isn't easy, Harry. Especially believing in yourself. There is a slight difference between seeming confident and being confident. Saying you can do something and feeling deep down that you can do it are two different things."
Harry stayed silent for a few minutes. Letting Hermione's words sink in.
"I want to try again," he said at last. Taking his wand in his hand, he thought of Hermione's words: Concentrate, believe in yourself, you can do this…
Harry closed his eyes and for the umpteenth time that day flicked his wand clockwise. When he heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath, he opened his eyes. An emerald green feather was laying in the place of his quill.
Harry took the feather in his hands, there was some ink dripping from the tip of it.
"Not perfect but at least an A, huh?" Harry joked. He was grinning with excitement. He had done it. Just a few words from Hermione were what he needed to succeed, it seemed.
Hermione laughed as she shook her head, "Your wand movement is too sharp, do it more gently and it will be perfect."
Harry closed his eyes again and pointed his wand at Hermione's quill. Trying to soften his moves, he repeated his actions and there it was, a snow-white feather without a drop of ink.
Harry suddenly found himself leaned back with the force of Hermione's hug.
"I knew you could do it," she whispered proudly, her happiness could be heard from her voice but all Harry could focus on was her hot breath on his neck and her warmth surrounding him from all sides.
"Ahem… Thank you, 'Mione. I couldn't do this without you," Harry whispered back, putting his arms around her. He was enjoying this way too much.
After a few seconds that simultaneously felt like hours and a millisecond to Harry, Hermione pulled away.
"If only you believe in yourself as much as I believe in you, there is nothing you can't do," Hermione whispered. Her smile was so big, Harry could swear it was contagious.
"Well, I believe in you more than I believe in myself and since you're always right… I guess you can be right about me, too."
Hermione lightly slapped his arm, "Like you said, I'm always right. I told you you were a great wizard when you were only eleven, didn't I? Just think how great of a wizard you're now."
"I still think you are better than me, Miss Books and Cleverness," Harry grinned.
"I was right about that, too. There are more important things." Her tone was sombre despite the twinkle in her eyes.
"Friendship and bravery…" Harry said, remembering her words from almost eight years ago.
"And love," Hermione whispered.
"What?"
"Friendship, bravery and love." Hermione looked into his eyes before averting her gaze to the feather he had just transfigured. She took it between her fingers, twirling it between her delicate fingers. "I was too shy to say it back then."
"Those are the things that made us win this war," Harry said, then lightly bumped her shoulder to lighten the mood, "Merlin, woman! You really are right all the time."
Hermione laughed, "All these years and you're still shocked."
Their laughter died down in a few seconds, leaving its place to a comfortable silence. Harry liked these silences with Hermione. There was no pressure to fill the gap, they could sit beside each other for hours without saying a word. They had acquired this side of their relationship during the Horcrux Hunt, when they were camping all over the country.
Thinking of those days always pushed Harry in a melancholic mood he couldn't describe. He was so happy and relieved that those days were behind them now, that they were far away from those cold forests, safe and sound in Hogwarts. But still, sometimes Harry found himself missing those quite days in a sick, twisted way. He liked to think, for his mental health, that what he missed was spending alone time with Hermione, and not the adrenaline of those days.
His eyes shifted to the window, the sky had begun changing colours from orange to pink to dark blue. The days were shorter now that they were in the middle of winter, more reason to feel melancholic.
"What are you thinking?" Hermione's voice brought him out of his musings.
"It's getting dark earlier and earlier."
"Yeah, until the 22nd of December," Hermione whispered, her eyes were fixed on the sky just like him.
"Oh, that's close. It's nice to know."
"You don't like the dark?"
"Sometimes."
"Yeah, me neither."
Again, silence.
Harry took a deep breath and finally looked at Hermione. She was waiting for him to ask the question that had been plaguing him for a while now, since Hermione told him all those things about magic and confidence.
"What you said earlier, is it also the case with curses?"
"It is even more powerful with dark magic, yes," Hermione nodded. Her eyes were trained on him, carefully watching his every move. But it was far from making him nervous, he kind of liked having her staring at him like that, as if he was a book she was dying to read.
"In the Ministry, I tried to use the Cruciatus on Bellatrix," Harry began, he didn't need to specify which year he was talking about. "It didn't work. I thought it was because I wasn't strong enough."
Hermione reached over and took his hand between hers, her fingers tangling with his.
"I think you are strong, Harry. So strong to go through something like that and still not have it in you to seriously harm the person responsible for it."
"You don't think it's a weakness?" Harry asked, his eyes boring into hers to see the answer to his question. "I felt like a coward… when she said I had to mean them… because she had just killed Sirius, the closest thing I had to a family… and I couldn't even mean to hurt her…"
Hermione smiled wistfully, her other hand went to his cheek to caress it. Harry closed his eyes as he leaned into her soft touch.
"Oh, Harry…" Hermione sighed. "How I wish you had it in you to be a coward at times." Harry heard her laugh quietly, "You are the most impulsive, passionate, brave person I know."
"You say that as if it's a bad thing," Harry laughed back, opening his eyes to stare back into her eyes.
Hermione's bitter smile was all the answer he got from her. Harry took her hand that was caressing his cheek to rest on his lap, his eyes following their movement.
"I didn't use the Killing Curse on Voldemort, either. It was his curse that killed him."
Hermione leaned down to catch his eyes, her hands squeezed his as she whispered fiercely, "It was his hatred that killed him." She paused long enough to make sure she had all his attention, "I- I wouldn't think less of you if you had killed him."
Harry held her gaze as relief filled him at her reassuring words. She always knew how to soothe him. Harry settled with smiling to show his gratitude. Saying thank you to someone who admitted they would love him the same if he killed someone suddenly seemed ridiculous. What was even more ridiculous was that he wouldn't love Hermione less if she killed those who harmed them.
His eyes once again got drawn to the sky outside. It was more dark blue than orange now. Hermione sighed and leaned against him. It was an awkward position considering they were sitting in chairs but she managed to get comfortable. Their hands were still clasped together on his lap. Harry slid his thumb across the back of her hand and she turned it over to let him play with her palm. Harry followed the lines on her palm, his fingertips tingling with the light touch.
"You don't have to prove me anything, you know?" Harry whispered at last, breaking the silence. "I already know you are worth more than my friendship. I wouldn't be me if it weren't for you. And I don't mean the war and all that… stuff."
"I know," she whispered, her hand once again clasped around his wandering fingers.
"I mean me… Just Harry." Harry stopped to gulp down his emotions. He didn't remember the last time he'd cried and he knew he wasn't going to cry now. But even without the tears, he sometimes got emotional. Especially talking about their common history with Voldemort. "You, your friendship, shaped who I am. Your belief in me is more important than other people combined."
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione turned in her seat to hug him. When she buried her face in his neck, he felt the dampness of her face. She was crying.
"Hey, don't cry! I didn't say these to make you upset."
He felt the rumble of her laugh against his chest before Hermione leaned back. She quickly wiped her eyes with her hand and smiled brightly at him.
"I'm not upset, you idiot. That was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me."
Harry reached over to wipe a stray tear from her cheekbone. "Well, I guess I take it for granted when I think you know how I feel about you," he grinned, "But you do, don't you? You always know everything."
Hermione laughed lightly at his words, "Okay, I get it. I'm a know-it-all."
"I guess more so when it comes to our relationship. I mean friendship-relationship. I didn't mean-"
"I know what you mean, Harry," Hermione rolled her eyes when Harry laughed at her familiar words. "You mean platonic relationship."
Harry nodded, "Yeah, our platonic relationship."
"But you can mean romantic relationship, too, if you want to," Hermione nudged him. "No need to get shy now. If I remember correctly, just two days ago, right in this spot, you were persuading me into a romantic relationship with you. Quite successfully if I'm being honest."
"Successful, huh?" Harry grinned, leaning closer to her. "Why, I'm glad you're enjoying this Miss Granger. I can't wait to prove you wrong on your other reservations regarding my very successful persuasion."
"And what are my reservations that you didn't already prove wrong, Mr Potter?"
Harry's eyes had drawn down to her lips. They looked as kissable as they were that morning. Harry heard her small gasp and his eyes flickered up to meet hers. Before he could say or do anything, Hermione moved back a bit. For an outsider it might have seemed like an inch but for Harry, that gesture was equal to her leaning back on her chair.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just-"
"Harry," Hermione cut his rambling. She reached over, putting her hands on his cheeks, "It's okay, I understand. You don't have to apologise for wanting to kiss your girlfriend. Unless you do that without permission, of course," she added the last part as an afterthought. "But I just- I want to be sure we are good in this relationship thing before the snogging gets in the way."
Harry frowned at her words, "Gets in the way?"
"You know, confuses us. Makes us believe that this is going good just because we have someone to make out with."
"I don't want to be in a relationship with you just to snog you." Harry could hear the hurt in his voice. If it wasn't for Hermione's gentle caress on his jaw, he could feel worse. She had somehow managed to convey with her touch that she knew he didn't think of her like that.
"I know that Harry, you're not a guy like that. But we're all human. That sort of thing tends to affect our thought process. Especially at this age." She once again caressed his jawline, her eyes went soft as she whispered, "And it's you, it's our friendship at stake here. If it was anyone else, I wouldn't mind having a bit of snogging-"
"Ouch!" Harry said with mock hurt, clutching his heart. "You can't say that sort of thing to your boyfriend, 'Mione."
Hermione laughed at his antics and lightly pushed him, "You know I didn't mean it like that! Anyway, what I'm saying is I wouldn't mind snogging someone even though I knew the relationship would fail. But I can't do that with you. At least not now, it's just been two days. You are more important than a few clumsy kisses."
"Clumsy? I-" Upon seeing the amused twist of her lips, Harry scrunched his face, "Sometimes I don't understand if you're saying something good or bad when you talk like that."
"Too many words?" She was full on grinning now.
Harry shook his head, his eyes once again flickering down to her lips, "No, your lips distract me."
"Exactly what I'm talking about." Hermione's scolding tone was belied by the blush on her cheeks.
Harry sighed with mock defeat, "You're right… Once again. Okay, we'll take it slow." He raised his eyes to hers in his best puppy dog look, "But maybe I can get a small peck, huh? For my successful transfiguration, maybe?" He asked holding the snow-white feather for demonstration.
"Harry!" Hermione reprimanded him, at least tried to, since once again her smile was taking down the effect of her tone, "What did we talk about just now?"
"Okay okay," Harry sighed, then a mischievous grin overtook his face, "Then, you'll come flying with me tomorrow."
"Where did that come from?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide open with fright.
"Come on, 'Mione. It'll be fun." He took her hands in his, "Please."
"Okay," Hermione sighed, she freed one hand to point a finger at him, "But if you try any of the foolish stuff that you do on your own, you'll be in trouble, Potter."
Harry caught the finger pointing at him and quickly kissed it. "Okay, no funny business," he grinned.
Hermione's cheeks turned a faint pink as she smiled back. Just as he was about to suggest returning to the Common Room, Hermione leaned over and pressed her lips against his. Giving him just enough time to acknowledge her soft lips before pulling back.
"For your hard work in your studies," she whispered before turning away to gather her stuff.
Harry stared after her dazedly for a second, his lips were tingling from the brief contact as if there was a mini firework display going on.
'Or maybe some funny business.'
Harry stopped her frantic action by pulling her to himself. When she turned towards him, he put his hand on her flushed cheek and dropped a kiss near her lips. Once again feeling all his senses being captivated by the sparks she oh-so-adamantly demanded that they should have a few days ago, he muttered, "Thank you."
He didn't need to specify, she already knew he was thanking her for always being there beside him. She always knew.
"You're welcome."
A/N: OK, I want to say a few things about the direction this story took. I had planned for (and drafted) this to be a pointless fluff but apparently, I can't write both post-war and pointless fluff at the same time. There is (and will be) talks about life after war and growing up and learning to live after trying to stay alive all your life and love. Mostly love and friendship but with a more serious background of these other topics.
And I'll change the summary, I don't think this one describes the gist of the story clearly. So don't be confused when you see a new summary with the old title, it's still the same story. And since I'm really bad at writing summaries, I'm open to summary suggestions.
Lastly, I got the job I mentioned in my last A/N! Which is a really really REALLY good thing but at the same time it means I won't have much time to write this story with my MA thesis and job going on at the same time. But I WILL write it, I promise I'll finish this story.
OK, that's the end of another long A/N. If you've read till now, thank you! And of course thank you to all of you who have left a review and wished me luck for my interview!
Please don't forget to leave a review, they mean so much to me!
Love you, take care, bye! -xo