More Important Things | By : twitchelittleferret Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 15269 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
The Hunt Continues
What'll you do when you get lonely
And nobody's waiting by your side?
You've been running and hiding much too long.
You know it's just your foolish pride.
Layla, you've got me on my knees.
Layla, I'm begging, darling please.
Layla, darling won't you ease my worried mind.
I tried to give you consolation
When your old man had let you down.
Like a fool, I fell in love with you,
Turned my whole world upside down.
(Layla—Eric Clapton)
~*~*~
The boggart made its appearance twice more while they were both in
the attic. Both times, Harry got rid of it before it manifested itself
completely, there was no way in hell he'd put himself in the situation he had
earlier with Hermione in this attic. For her part, Hermione stayed on the other
side of the area, keeping the conversation strictly professional. Dobby popped
in once in awhile to provide snacks for their short breaks before they quickly
returned to rummaging through the lost items of the Black household.
With a sigh, Hermione closed the lid on the last trunk that she
looked through. “I think we may have to face the growing probability that this
locket is not in this house,” she said resignedly.
“Fuck!” Harry swore aloud, throwing an item he was carrying down
and kicking a nearby trunk. Hermione would have admonished him for his language
if she didn't have the urge, herself, to say the same. “Kreacher had to have
taken it, we couldn't have thrown it out!” He felt despair at the thought of
having to go through a wizard dump, who knows what he would find. “Maybe we
should look in all of Kreacher's favorite hiding spots.”
Hermione gazed out of the grimy attic windows, lost in thought.
“Mundungus,” she whispered.
“What?” Harry asked absently as he made a last ditch effort at
searching.
“Mundungus,” she repeated more boldly, catching Harry's attention.
“Last year he snuck off with some of the Black silverware, didn't he?”
Harry looked at her then slowly got to his feet, dusting off his
knees. “Yeah?” he said warily.
She crossed her arms. “What if he took other items as well?”
“It's a possibility,” Harry replied.
“Only problem is,” Hermione sighed. “We don't know where to find
him.”
Harry grinned wryly. “I have an idea where to look.”
~*~
The two of them apparated into Hogsmeade after taking some time to
clean themselves of the dust and dirt that had accumulated on them. The sun was
in the west, giving them only a couple of hours until it set. Harry looked on
the horizon and an unease fell upon him at the distant lights of Hogwarts on
the hill. He once thought the place to be his home, the place where he
belonged. But now it seemed so foreign to him. Hermione must have sensed his
unease because she laid a gentle hand on his arm.
“Come on, Harry,” she said softly as she urged him on.
He glanced one more time at the familiar turrets before continuing
on his way. There were only a smattering of people in town and there was a warm
glow coming from the Three Broomsticks along with the faint sound of laughter
coming from inside. The two of them passed by and continued on their way to the
darker and dirtier Hog's Head. As he opened the door, he was immediately
reminded of the time Hermione had dragged him here for the first unofficial
meeting of Dumbledore's Army.
The floor seemed to have accumulated more dirt since the last time
he was here and behind the counter, Aberforth was washing a glass with a dirty
rag. He noticed that the pub only had a few patrons inside it and they all
looked a bit unsavory. Hermione moved closer to Harry as she took in their
company. Summoning up some courage from inside him, Harry approached the bar.
“I need to find Mundungus. Do you know where I can find him?”
Hermione was surprised by the calmness in Harry's voice. She would have only
managed a squeak.
Aberforth nodded to a corner where a cloaked figure was huddled
over his pint on the dusty table. Harry looked to Hermione for encouragement
and was rewarded an equally determined face. Together, they approached the rogue
member of the Order.
“Hullo, dung,” Harry said as he and Hermione took seats at his
table. He smelled strongly of tobacco and firewhiskey. He looked up and blinked
his bleary eyes at the young couple.
“Oh, Harry. Hermione,” he nodded to each of them. “I haven't taken
anything since you last caught me so whatever you're looking for, I don't have
it,” he said defensively.
“I believe you,” Harry said. “But I'm looking for something you
might have taken…before.”
Mundungus didn't reply and Harry wondered if maybe the man wasn't
too keen on helping him. Hermione spoke up then, her voice quiet and
comforting.
“We were wondering if you came across a gold locket,” she said as
she looked at him hopefully.
Mundungus looked at the young woman, grumbling under his breath at
his soft side for the fairer sex. Harry and Hermione shared hopeful looks.
“I sold it,” he muttered.
“Where?” Hermione asked. “To whom?”
“Nick Knacks,” he replied and Harry closed his eyes, thinking of
how he and Hermione were going to go into Knockturn Alley's infamous shop of
various odds and ends.
“How long ago?” Hermione asked.
“When you all were cleaning Headquarters,” he answered. “Sirius
let me take the junk he didn't want. The locket was in there.”
“Thanks, Dung,” Harry said, sliding out of the booth. Hermione
thanked him as well before she followed Harry.
“See you tomorrow,” Aberforth muttered to Harry under his breath.
Harry avoided Hermione's questioning gaze and left the pub.
He didn't get too far without Hermione stopping him. “What did he
mean by `seeing you tomorrow'?” she asked.
Harry couldn't told her to drop it but she was going to find out
eventually. “Dumbledore wanted me to continue my occlumency lessons,” Harry
said slowly.
Hermione opened her mouth to say that it was a brilliant idea that
she supported whole-heartedly and that he should have pursued it last year. But
she thought better against it and merely said. “Oh.”
For his part, Harry was grateful she didn't say what was really on
her mind. He knew what she would say when he told her about the lessons.
Hermione decided to break the strained silence between them.
“So…what do we do now?” she asked as she stuffed her hands in the
pockets of her jeans. Harry mimicked the action and deliberately avoided
staring in the direction of Hogwarts.
“I honestly don't know. It's getting dark and there is no way in
hell that we are going into Knockturn Alley at this time of the day,” he said
as he and Hermione walked back to a safe apparition point. “But I don't think
the locket is there, either. The Death Eaters went through all the wizarding
pawn shops before they started on the muggle ones.”
“Which leaves us right where we started,” Hermione said
disheartened. Harry looked down at her and reached out to turn her to him.
“Hey,” he said comfortingly, placing a hand on her arm. “We'll
find it. It's out there somewhere and the good news is the Death Eaters haven't
found it. That means we still have a chance.”
Hermione didn't know why she was so depressed. Harry was right,
they still had a chance but finding that locket out who-knows-where was like
searching for a needle in a haystack. It was just so frustrating that their horcrux
hunt was getting off to a smashing start.
“Oy, Harry! Hermione!”
The two of them turned to see a twin trotting toward them. As he
got closer they realized it was Fred.
“Hello Fred!” the two of them greeted.
“Hello yourselves,” Fred greeted them back, smiling. “Does my baby
brother know that his best friend is trying to steal away his girlfriend?” Fred
jested and Harry removed his hand immediately from Hermione's arm. Hermione's
face turned scarlet and Harry found that he had no reply to this. But it wasn't
needed as the two of them quickly realized that Fred was only joking.
“Very funny,” Harry said grumpily as Fred laughed.
“How's Ron?” Hermione felt obliged to ask.
“Missing him already?” Fred ribbed her. “Mum and Fleur will keep
him busy this week until the wedding, don't you worry. You'll have him back
after the wedding is over. Ginny is staying at the burrow though, Harry. George
and I aren't letting her out of our sight, especially around you,” he said suggestively.
Harry had no reply to that and Hermione just looked away awkwardly.
“Well…it was good to see you Fred,” Harry finally spoke up. “Say
hello to Ron.”
“Alright. Take care you two,” Fred replied as he left the two of
them and continued on their way. Harry and Hermione apparated back to Grimmauld
Place in silence.
~*~*~
Tonks gave up on adequate conversation at the dinner table and the
silence descended upon the room again. Harry and Hermione sat opposite each
other but barely spoke two words to one another. Remus seemed to be keeping a
keen eye on the two of them and Harry deliberately avoided his gaze. Tonks
pursed her lips together then sighed in exasperation.
“Okay, what's going on here?” she asked and everyone stopped
eating to look at her.
“What do you mean?” Remus asked her.
“I mean this table is about as lively as a slug convention!”
Nobody answered her but Hermione did get up from the table,
dabbing at her mouth with a napkin.
“I'm just really tired,” she said as she took her plate to the
sink. “I'm going to turn in. Goodnight,” she said and left the room.
Harry watched her leave the room before his sight fell on Lupin.
He was looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face but the words
he had spoken to him in the attic rang out loud and true.
“I'm going to bed. I need to get up early tomorrow,” Harry said as
he cleaned off his plate and placed it in the sink before leaving the room.
As the door closed, Tonks turned to Lupin. “Remus, what's going
on?” she asked.
Lupin sighed and pushed his plate away. “I found Harry and
Hermione in the attic last night,” he said.
“In the attic?” Tonks wrinkled her brow in confusion. “What were
they—oh!”
“No, no, no,” Lupin shook his head. “They weren't…doing anything
but Harry did as much as admit to me that the opportunity was there.”
Tonks sat quietly, remembering her conversation with Hermione at
Privet Drive. “It's just a very confusing time for them. All those hormones…,”
Tonks shuddered, recalling that awkward period of her youth. “It's perfectly
normal.”
“And that's how it should be,” Remus looked at her with a pained
look in his face that disarmed her. “I want so badly for Harry to be a normal
teenager with normal urges. I want him to be reckless and carefree like his
father was. But he can't. Merlin knows that he isn't a normal teenager. That he
can't live the reckless and carefree life.” He propped his elbows on the table
and cradled his head in his hands. “Harry has nobody. Everyone he loves, every
father figure he's had has been taken from him. He has only his friends left,
he thrives off of their support. I don't…I…I just don't know what would happen
if that support was somehow taken from him, either from outside forces or…” he
looked up at Tonks, “…something within.”
Tonks reached out and hugged him. “Oh, Remus,” she sighed, kissing
the side of his head. “I understand your need to protect him. But he doesn't
have nobody, he has you, he has me, he has a whole group of people to love and
support him and he doesn't even know it. And as for his friendship, it will
survive whatever bumps and pitfalls that are in front of it. The Marauders are
strong and live on in here,” she placed a hand on his chest, over his heart.
“Even after the greatest betrayal of all befell you. You and Sirius made a pact
to watch over James' son and you are watching over him. You are all watching
over him, even in death. Harry is a Marauder's son and he knows the value of
friendship as do the other two. They will weather this storm.” Lupin leaned
into Nymphadora's comforting embrace, grateful to have her in his life.
Harry wasn't tired, he was restless and couldn't sleep. He lay on
his bed and stared up at the ceiling. A door closed down the hall and he knew
that Lupin and Tonks had retired to bed. Trying to clear the troubling thoughts
of lockets, cups and various other possible horcruxes, he decided he had had
enough and that he needed to take a walk.
A strange tension had seemed to settle over him from this morning
and he had no way of shaking off this anxiety. It felt as if he was on the cusp
of something, the strange and exciting knot in your stomach. Deep down he knew
where he was going but he was still surprised to find himself at Hermione's bedroom
door. There was no light coming from underneath indicating that she had
probably gone to bed. He sighed and rested his hands on either side of the
doorframe. He pushed back against it and hung his head.
What was he doing here?
He is your best friend.
She is your best friend.
They are together.
He is your best friend.
He is your best friend.
You are a shitty friend.
He raised one hand to knock knowing the consequences of what would
happen if she answered. But part of him wanted it. Wanted to continue what was
interrupted in the attic. And part of him knew that she would let him. He
closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like to kiss those lips that
beckoned him in the attic. What would she taste like? What would it feel like?
When did he start thinking of his female best friend in this tortuous way? And
why, oh why, did he have to think of her now when she was most unavailable?
His closed fist hung in the air, centimeters from the wood of her
door.
He sighed and brought his hand back down to his side. He couldn't
do this. He turned away and headed back to his room. As he readied himself for
bed, he felt a small joy of triumph, like he had accomplished something
wonderful. And he did. His resolve had been tested, he had passed and the
trio's friendship was still intact. He lay his head on his pillow and looked at
the picture he kept on the nightstand of the three of them, taken during the
happier days at Hogwarts. He smiled softly and drifted off to sleep.
~*~
“I'm not sure how much you have been taught or how far you are
along in this study,” Aberforth said to Harry. They were in the drawing room
where the morning sun's rays filtered into the room, lighting bright patches in
the rug beneath them. Harry shifted uncomfortably knowing exactly how far he
had come in his occlumancy lessons.
“Ready?” Aberforth asked and before Harry could nod yes, his mind
was assaulted and images of his last lesson with Snape swam forward. What he
had seen in the pensieve popped up as well as Snape's furious face before he
felt Aberforth leave him. The man looked at Harry as if he had grown a second
head. “That was bloody terrible! Have you not had any lessons at all?” Harry
grimaced and knew he had a long day in store for him.
*
Hermione sighed and stirred her coffee one more time. She didn't
get much sleep last night, she kept getting up to walk to her door to leave
only to lose her nerve and turn back around. She wasn't sure why she wanted to
see Harry, it would only serve to further her confusion even more.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Ron's owl carrying
a letter.
Dear Harry and Hermione,
Any luck yet with the you-know-whats? Things here are pretty
busy, only a few days till the wedding. We've been working hard transforming
the backyard into a place worthy of a part-Veela's wedding. I don't know why
Bill is marrying her, any little thing seems to set her off right now. I avoid
her anyway since I still feel like a complete idiot around her. See you in a
few days!
Ron
Hermione folded the letter and left it for Harry to read. Part of
her felt disappointment. The letter was so…friendly. Not that she was expecting
proclamations of love or anything like that but it felt as if it was just a
regular letter that she would have received over the summer. She glanced
outside the window but didn't see any other owls headed their way. Summoning a
quill and parchment from her room, she set out to write Ron back.
Dear Ron,
Nothing yet. Unfortunately we haven't found what we were
looking for here. Harry's taking Remedial Potions again with a new teacher. We
can't wait for the wedding and we'll see you there.
Hermione
She sat back and proof-read her work realizing suddenly that her
letter had the same tone as Ron's. She sighed and sealed it, sending it on its
way with Pig.
*
Harry's lesson left him drained so the two of them stayed inside
Grimmauld Place for the entire day. But the next morning, as Remus left the
table to say goodbye to Tonks as she left for work, Harry leaned forward and
whispered to Hermione.
“Do you think your parent's will let you borrow their car?” he
asked.
“What? Why?”
“We're taking a little trip as muggles today,” he grinned
mischievously at her. She eyed him cautiously, she had had more than enough
experience to know what that look meant.
But her parents let her borrow the car anyway in exchange for
showing up to dinner tonight and bringing her friend along with her.
“Where are we going?” she asked as they got into the car, she
behind the driver's wheel.
Harry hesitated when he clicked his seat belt in. “I'm not sure,”
he said and then to Hermione's look, “What? I'll know it when I see it!” he
defended. Hermione sighed and shook her head as she started the car.
The traffic was light that day and the sun was shining above them.
Harry fiddled with the radio dials as they both searched for songs that they
knew and could sing together very off key. Today was a great day in Harry's
book. If only for a short time, he felt like an average and ordinary teenager having
a good time with his friend. The two of them laughed, discussed muggle movies,
argued about which radio station played the better songs and even fought a
little when Harry would lead her in the wrong direction.
“You want to try it?” Hermione glanced sideways at him.
“What?” he asked.
“You've been staring at the steering wheel for quite some time and
I'm surprised you haven't asked me.”
Harry's heart leapt at the chance to test drive her parent's car
but he played it off non-chalantly. “Nah, that's okay.”
“Harry,” she laughed. “It's alright, I—“
“Okay, if you insist,” Harry cut her off and Hermione smiled as
she pulled to the side of the road.
“Just be careful with it,” she said as she buckled herself in the
passenger's seat. “This isn't the Anglia.” Harry gave her a dirty look but she
merely winked back at him. “Okay, this pedal is the gas, this one the brake.
Gently press on the gas, GENTLY!” she screeched as they lurched forward before
Harry slammed on the brakes.
“It's not funny, Hermione!” Harry said in a shrill voice as she
burst out in laughter. The pedal was a bit touchy in his opinion. But he was a
fast learner and he basked in Hermione's praise even though he was still a bit
rough on the brakes. He couldn't help it, he already had a bit of a speeding
problem. It helped that traffic was light and he found he could be quite
creative in his verbal communication with other drivers.
“You're doing really well, Harry,” Hermione beamed at him. Harry
grinned back at her then looked up when something caught his eye. He
immediately slammed on his brakes, jerking Hermione.
“Harry! What…”
“This is it,” he said softly as he peered up at an austere
building with an iron gate in front of it.
“An orphanage?” Hermione asked, puzzled but moments later, comprehension
dawned on her face. “Harry…” she said softly.
Harry parked the car then reached into the back seat for the
bundle he had brought along.
“They aren't just going to let us in and wander about,” Hermione
said. “Did you bring your invisibility cloak?”
“No, we're going in as muggles,” he said as he opened the bag and
pulled out a cushion. “Here, put this under your shirt,” he ordered.
“Harry!” Hermione protested. “I am not doing this.” But she was
already following his orders. “This is crazy. No one will fall for this.”
“You're a witch. Make it look real,” he said then left the car.
Hermione sighed and cast a charm on the pillow as Harry went
around the other side to open her door.
“I hope this works,” she said as she took his hand to help her out
of the car.
*
The woman who answered the door was young, probably in her early
twenties as she looked down at the teenage couple, the girl's belly was round
with child. Harry, who had thought of this brilliant plan suddenly realized
that he had no idea what he was going to say. But, thankfully, Hermione was
there to help.
“Hello,” she said quiet and unsure. “We…uh…”
“There's no need to be awkward or ashamed,” the woman said. “It's
a difficult position you two are in and this is a very important decision.”
Hermione swallowed. “Could we take a tour of your facilities? We
would like to…” she trailed off but Harry picked up.
“…make sure that we were making the right choice,” he finished.
“Of course,” the woman said kindly. “You have picked an excellent
time. The director should be free to talk with you.” She opened the door wider
to let the two of them in. Harry nodded for Hermione to go first, placing a
hand on the small of her back to lead her into the building.
They had to endure an hour with the director, an elderly woman
with an unfriendly disposition, giving vague answers about their “pillow” baby.
Harry was itching to get out of there and start walking around the building. He
wasn't sure which room was Tom Marvolo Riddle's, he had only seen it in
Dumbledore's pensieve but he had a feeling he would know it when he saw it.
As they left the room to begin their tour, Hermione sought out
Harry's hand. She wanted his comfort because every moment in the childhood home
of the darkest wizard of their time was unsettling to her. She became very
jittery and jumpy at every shout and loud noise. It seemed to be an endless
maze of rooms and the walls seemed to close in on her.
Suddenly, Harry gave a sharp squeeze of her hand. She looked up
and saw him give nod slightly to the left.
“Sweetheart,” Harry said with fake concern in his voice. “Are you
feeling alright?” Hermione wondered if he could sense her unease. Harry looked
up at the director. “She needs to lie down for a bit, can she use a bed to rest
on?” Harry began to walk toward the room he had nodded to.
“Of course, go ahead,” the director obliged. “Does she need any
water?”
Harry could feel Hermione's resistance to walking into the room.
“Yes, please,” Hermione answered. She felt apprehensive walking
into Voldemort's bedroom. There was something too personal about it. But Harry
applied a little more force and practically tugged her into the room. The
director left them to fetch her some water. Hermione sat down on the bed then
leaped up from it as if it were on fire.
“Hey, are you alright?” Harry asked, his face was full of concern.
“It's his bed, isn't it?” she asked and Harry understood her
apprehension in being in this room.
“Keep an eye out,” he motioned to the door. He moved to the
wardrobe and opened it, rummaging the inside of it looking for any loose
panels.
“What made you decide to look here?” Hermione asked softly.
“Remedial potions yesterday. I had almost forgotten about it,” he
answered her.
“Wouldn't Dumbledore have found something here already?”
Harry sat back on his heels and looked at her. “Not if he didn't know
where to look.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Harry moved to the bed, dropping to his knees to look under it.
“It takes an unwanted orphan to know an unwanted orphan.”
Hermione looked at him as if he had said the most blasphemous
thing on earth. “Harry,” she said sharply. “You are nothing like
that…vile creature.”
Harry looked up at her with a sarcastic smirk on his face. “I
think you'll find that he and I have more in common than we would like,” he
said softly as he reached under the bed to remove a loose floorboard. Inside
was a small box that Harry carefully lifted out. Hermione eyed the box wearily
as Harry shrunk it and stuffed it into his back pocket.
“Let's go,” he said as he walked past her.
~*~
The silence between the two of them was deafening as Hermione
drove them back to her parent's house. Harry, for the first time, properly met
Hermione's parents and liked them immediately. Once again he found himself slightly
envious of his best friends to have such warm and loving families. But he felt
lucky to be accepted so warmly into both of them. Dinner had been pleasant,
Mrs. Granger didn't cook as much food as Mrs. Weasley, but it was delicious
just the same. And if only for a few moments, he had forgotten about the hidden
package.
But silence, again, descended on the two of them as they walked
back into Grimmauld Place. They each went their own ways to their rooms,
exchanging simple goodnights to each other. But Harry couldn't sleep and for
some odd reason, he didn't have the heart or the emotional strength to open up
the box of his nemesis' belongings. The fact that Voldemort had a secret hiding
place for his things like Harry had at the Dursley's seemed to reiterate the
fact that the two of them had very similar childhoods. It was unnerving. What
had Dumbledore said? It was the choices that we make that defined who we are.
Harry could've easily followed the same path as Tom Marvolo Riddle had he made
different choices in his life. It made everything weigh down on him and he felt
helpless in the tides of fate.
Choices.
He sighed and picked up his broom. He couldn't deal with this
right now and he needed to clear his head. The night air was clear and cool as
he stepped into the backyard gardens. But he wasn't alone. Hermione was also
out there, looking up at the stars.
“Couldn't sleep?” she asked and he nodded. “Neither could I.”
He shifted slightly. He knew that she had been thinking the same
things as he was. She had been silent since they left the orphanage but he had
seen the look on her face when he opened the floorboard underneath the bed. It
was a look of surprise with a hint of fear. He knew that she was looking at him
differently now and it made something inside him ache painfully at that. Did
she think of him as a monster? Did she still think of him as her friend?
He approached her, encouraged by the fact that she didn't recoil
from him. “Do you want to go for a ride?” he whispered. She didn't answer him
at first, she was looking into his face and he had to suppress to crazy urge to
add `I won't hurt you' to the invitation.
“Okay,” she said at last.
She hated heights and resented the fact that she was never a good
flier but something inside her willed herself to do this. She sensed that Harry
needed her to do this for some reason, even if it was for the simple gesture
that she was still his friend. She straddled the broom in front of Harry and
held on tight as she felt her feet the leave the ground beneath her.
She had been both surprised and disappointed by Harry finding what
he was looking for. She had a vague notion that he and Voldemort had a similar
past but she had no idea just how similar and connected they were. That was
what had frightened her. Their connection to each other, their lives somehow
woven into each other's, their fates entangled. Yes, that was what frightened
her. The boy that she had grown to care immensely about, care maybe too much
than what was necessary for friendship, had his fate so closely tied to the
darkest wizard in history. Her Harry. And it hammered home the thought that she
could very well lose him in this battle, even if he managed to defeat
Voldemort.
She tightened her grip on the broom to stave off the urge to turn
around and throw her arms around him. To hold him and protect him. To cling to
the part of Harry's soul that represented everything that he was to her and
shout to Voldemort that he couldn't have him. That he wouldn't take him from
her. That she wouldn't let go without a fight to the death and even in death
she would come back and still claim him as hers.
Harry found a guilty comfort in her presence, in the warm of her
body, in her scent that surrounded him and filled his nostrils. He didn't fly
very high because he knew that she was scared of heights but they still had a
magnificent view. They didn't talk and they didn't need to. Harry just needed
the reassurance that she was still there for him.
He had been so lost in her presence that he didn't realize she was
crying until he felt her body shaking slightly. Hermione didn't realize she had
been crying until she felt a warm hand slide slowly around her waist and his
warm breath in her ear.
“Shh, Hermione,” he whispered softly in her ear.
She quickly wiped her eyes. “I'm sorry.”
“No, don't apologize. Let me take us back down.”
“No! Don't!” she said as she placed a hand on his. She turned to
look at him, their faces were so close but neither of them moved for what
seemed like forever. Hermione slowly turned to face forward but she pressed her
back against Harry's front as his arm tightened its hold ever so slightly on
her waist. A pang of envy went through her as she thought of Ginny. Her friend.
She was the lucky one who would feel this embrace that she was stealing for the
moment. She was waiting for him now and he was waiting for her, both of them
waiting for the end of this dark wizard. She would be the one to have him in
the end. What she was doing was wrong and she knew it but the selfish part of
her wanted him for this moment and she shivered slightly when she felt his lips
brush ever so slightly on her neck.
Harry didn't know what compelled him to do that but it felt right,
it felt like he needed to do that. Her skin was so soft under his lips
and he braved himself to apply a bit more pressure and was pleasantly surprised
when Hermione tilted her head slightly, exposing more of herself to him. He may
be a horrible friend but he wasn't a fool and his light kisses became more
bold.
“Harry,” Hermione whispered. Then she said his name a little more
loud then shouted, “HARRY!”
“Oh, crap!”
He jerked the Firebolt sharply to the right and they narrowly
missed the brick chimney in front of them. He hadn't been paying attention to
where they were going and had nearly caused a bad accident. One that he didn't
want the pleasure of explaining to Ron about. But the moment was broken, it
felt like being splashed from a pleasant dream with cold water, and he set them
back down gently in the back of Grimmauld Place. Hermione scrambled off of the
broom and muttered a quick goodnight before scurrying into the house. Harry
cursed quietly to himself and to his weak resolve. He kicked angrily at the
base of the dried up old fountain before walking back inside.
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