Disclaimer (again): I am not (I’m sure this is obvious to all) J K Rowling. All characters sprang from her brilliant mind, and I am but a humble acolyte.
Author's Note: I would just like to say "thank you" to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. I very much appreciate your taking the time to let me know what you think.
HEAVEN AND HELL
Chapter 2: Almost Heaven
Suddenly the door flew open and Ron strolled out of the closet. He was smiling broadly. “Your turn mate,” he said cheerily, holding the door open for Harry and slapping him on the shoulder.
Harry gulped as seven pairs of eyes bored into him. His feet felt like lead and cold sweat trickled down his back. ‘What am I going to do? What is she going to do? What did they just do?’ He was actually relieved when the door shut and he was left in the dark, where no one could see his shaking hands.
“Err . . . um, Hermione?” he stammered, afraid to reach out in case he touched something he shouldn’t, but at the same time feeling completely disoriented in the pitch black of the closet.
“Right here, Harry.” She sounded perfectly normal.
“Where?”
“Here,” and he felt a hand touch his shoulder.
“Oh.” Silence.
“Harry?”
“So, um, how . . . um . . . how was . . . er . . . it?” he managed.
“It?”
“You know, you and Ron.”
“Ron and I, what?”
“Well, you know.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Well, it, you know . . . it seemed like you two were really going at it at first, and then . . .”
“Really going at it?” she sounded annoyed.
‘Brilliant. That came out well.’
“I mean, going at it like you always do. Bickering and arguing and”you know.”
“Oh. Well, we seem to do that a lot,” Hermione noted.
“Umm-hmmm.”
“Harry?”
“Yes?”
“You know why, don’t you? Why Ron and I argue all the time?”
“Yeah,” said Harry dully. “You like each other.” For some reason, the thought depressed him.
“Of course we like each other,” Hermione said in surprise. “He’s one of my best friends. But sometimes he just gets me so angry!”
“No, I mean you like each other.”
There was a moment of silence. Beads of sweat formed on Harry’s forehead and he began to feel slightly faint.
“Oh, you mean that kind of like. No, we don’t,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Honestly, Harry. Don’t act like you haven’t noticed!” She was sounded annoyed again.
“Noticed what? I thought . . . I think everyone thought . . .”
“That the reason we fight so much is to hide our undying love for each other?” asked Hermione sarcastically, rolling her eyes in the dark. “No. We fight because we’re so different.”
“You and I are different and we don’t fight,” Harry responded, confused.
“Our relationship is totally different, Harry,” Hermione said quietly.
A light-bulb suddenly went on in his head and Harry smiled to himself in the dark, feeling a slow tingling warmth creep up his body.
Hermione had said that they had a relationship. He and Hermione. What was the difference between a relationship and a friendship, he wondered? What did she mean exactly? Was a relationship more than a friendship? Was it less? Did it refer to romantic feelings? But then you could say that he had a relationship with Ron and he certainly didn’t think of Ron that way. Relationship just meant that you were able to relate to the other person on some level, didn’t it? Or you were related to them? No, that wasn’t it either.
He shuddered. Oh bollocks, he was acting like a girl”twisting himself into knots over words! He could almost hear Ron now, ‘Bloody hell, Harry, who knows what girls mean? They’re mental half the time. Crying one minute, happy the next”what’s a bloke to do? There’s no understanding them.’
Hermione would know, Harry thought. She was brilliant at figuring out emotions”look at how she’d explained Cho’s feelings to him last year when he was so confused. But he couldn’t very well ask her to explain this time, could he? And he certainly didn’t want to think about Cho, especially while he was here in a broom closet with Hermione; a very small broom closet. It made his stomach hurt. He didn’t feel all that well really. His head hurt too.
Hermione coughed and Harry snapped back to reality, his shoulders slumped. “I don’t know, Hermione. When Ron came out of the closet a minute ago, he had this huge smile on his face. Why was he so happy if you two weren’t snogging in here?”
“Do you think that snogging is the only reason for someone to smile, Harry?”
“No, of course not.” ‘Sure wouldn’t mind giving it a go all the same, ’ he thought. Then out loud, “What was he so happy about then?”
“Well, after we stopped arguing, we had a discussion about our friendship and how important it is to both of us. He told me that I’m one of his best friends and what a difference I’ve made in his life,” Hermione choked with emotion. “It was so sweet. Then he hugged me, and . . .”
“He hugged you?” Harry broke in sharply.
“Well, it was more like we hugged each other. Anyway--”
“You hugged each other? So who hugged whom? Did you hug Ron and then he hugged you back, or did Ron hug you first and--”
“Oh Harry, what does it matter!” asked Hermione impatiently.
“Because . . . because” Harry sputtered inarticulately. “It just . . . oh, I don’t know!”
“Humph,” Hermione huffed indignantly. “ANYWAY. . . if I may finish?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” said Harry grumpily.
“Thank you! Well, as I was saying before I was ‘interrupted,’ after we hugged--”
“Humph!”
“Harry!”
“Sorry.” But he didn’t sound sorry, just incredibly cross.
“After we hugged”just like you and I have hugged, I might add--”
“What do you mean, ‘just like you and I have hugged,’ ” Harry grilled her.
“Exactly what it sounded like. Why are you cross-examining me like this, Harry?”
“I’m not! I just--”
“Harry, will you please let me finish?” Hermione sounded very exasperated.
“Right.”
“After our WE-ARE-FRIENDS-AND-THAT’S-WHAT-FRIENDS-DO-WITH-NO-OTHER-HIDDEN-MEANING-hug,” she almost shouted, “we talked about . . . well, we talked about how we didn’t have romantic feelings for each other any more.”
“Any more?”
“We had a bit of a crush on each other, back in fourth and fifth year,” Hermione admitted. “But,” she continued, “I think we both came to realize that we wouldn’t be good together in that way. He needs a girl who admires and looks up to him”which I do, of course, sort of . . .”
‘Ha! Sort of!’
“. . . and I need someone who . . .”
Silence.
“Someone who what, Hermione?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Someone who . . . who. . . um--”
Was Hermione stammering?
“Someone who loves me for myself”the way I really am and not the way he wants me to be,” Hermione finished, so softly that Harry had to lean closer to catch her words.
The broom closet grew quiet once again as Harry attempted to process Hermione’s words. He wasn’t quite sure what he should do, but a small snuffle from Hermione was his first inkling that he needed to do something.
“Hermione,” Harry said gently, groping out blindly in the shadows and finding her hand, “any wizard would be lucky to win the love of a witch like you. You’re smart and you’re funny and you’re brave and you’re pre. . .”
A sniff interrupted him. “Honestly, Harry, I can’t imagine anyone describing me as funny. Lavender and Parvati are always telling me to lighten up. Even Ginny thinks I don’t know how to have fun.” She sniffed again, wiping her eyes with one hand while holding tightly to Harry’s with the other. “I mean, look at me! Here I am in sixth year and I’ve never had a boyfriend or even a date since fourth year. It’s really quite pathetic.”
Harry chuckled softly. “‘Pathetic’ is not a word I’d ever use to describe you, Hermione. Lots of people get to sixth year without ever having a boyfriend or girlfriend.”
“Name one,” challenged Hermione.
“Well, there’s Ron,” and then under his breath “although for a wizard without a girlfriend he certainly seems to get plenty of hugs,” continuing in a normal voice, “and there’s Neville.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about Neville after tonight,” chortled Hermione. “Did you see how he and Ginny were behaving after they came out of the closet?”
“How they were behaving?” Harry repeated. “They seemed normal to me.” He was obviously without a clue.
“Oh Harry,” Hermione chuckled. “Ginny was smiling and Neville looked rather stunned.”
“He looks like that a lot,” noted Harry.
“This was different,” insisted Hermione. “He’s liked her for ages. Didn’t you know?”
“No, I didn’t, but if you’re right, don’t say anything to Ron,” laughed Harry. “Neville doesn’t need ‘big brother’ on his back!”
“I don’t know,” Hermione inserted slyly. “The way Luna’s been acting lately, Ron might not have much time to hover over Ginny.”
“Luna? You think . . .?”
“Yes,” said Hermione firmly. “I do.”
“Wow. I had no idea.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean,” asked Harry indignantly.
“Harry,” Hermione giggled, “you’re a wonderful person, but when it comes to noticing certain things, well”you know.”
“Yeah,” said Harry glumly. “That’s probably why you can add another person to your list of ‘never-had-a-girlfriend.’ Me.”
“You’ve had a girlfriend, Harry. What about Cho?”
“She was never my girlfriend,” he protested. “We went to Hogsmead once, and you know how that turned out. Complete fiasco. And before that there was that thing with the mistletoe where she . . .” he shuddered, “cried.”
“OK, we won’t count Cho then. But Harry, you could have any girl you wanted. You know that.”
“Because of the whole ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ nonsense,” Harry snorted.
“NO! Well, that might be what attracts them to you at first, but no. Because of whom you are: loving, sweet, caring”and the best friend anyone could have.”
‘Loving? Sweet? Him?’
“I think you’re the only witch who knows the real ‘Harry,’ Hermione. Do you honestly think I’m all those things?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I do. All those things”and more.”
“Really?” Very softly.
“Really.” Even softer.
Harry reached out with his free hand and found her face very close to his own. His heart was pounding so loudly he was afraid she could hear it. “Hermione . . . I--”
BANG! BANG!
“Ouch!” Startled, Hermione had jumped and bumped Harry’s chin with the top of her head.
“Oi there, you two,” shouted Ron. “What’s going on in there? Quit talking, Hermione, and tell him!”
“RON!” Hermione snapped.
“Tell me what,” inquired Harry.
“Nothing!”
“It’s not nothing,” Harry insisted somewhat ungrammatically. “Tell me what?” he repeated.
“Oh, it’s just that, well, when we were talking earlier, Ron asked me”HAS IT BEEN SEVEN MINUTES YET?” she yelled out suddenly.
“NO!” chorused Ron, Ginny, Neville, Lavender, Seamus, Parvati, and Dean.
“I think they’re listening at the door,” Harry noted.
“Humph,” Hermione huffed. “Just wait until I get out of here; I’m going to--”
“What did Ron ask you?”
“Erm . . .”
“Yes?”
“Well, we started talking about how it seemed so ridiculous, the idea of us snogging. And then, he asked me-- well, he asked me what kind of person I would like to snog with.”
“And,” Harry prompted. “What did you say?”
“I told him. And then he asked me . . . well, he asked me . . .”
She’d done it again! Twice in one day. Usually he was the one stuttering and stammering. “So he asked you . . .?”
“HeaskedmehowIfeltaboutyou,” she blurted out very quickly.
“What did you say?”
“I told him that, well, that, we’re best friends.”
“Oh,” Harry sounded somewhat disappointed.
“We are, aren’t we?” she asked anxiously.
“Yes, of course we are,” Harry said. “But why did Ron think you needed to tell me that we’re best friends. I already knew that.”
“Umm, yeah, I guess.”
Nothing.
“Hermione?”
She cleared her throat. “Yes?”
“Why did Ron think you needed to tell me that?”
“I don’t know,” she said evasively.
“Hermione, what’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything. Was there something else Ron wanted you to tell me?” he asked in a low voice.
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“Ummmm,” she took a deep breath, “thatIlikedyouasmorethanjustafriend. IS OUR TIME UP?” she shrieked in despair.
“NO!!!” seven voices again replied.
“They are listening at the door!” Hermione said frantically. “Oooo, just wait until . . .”
“Hermione?”
“Yes?” she squeaked. She sounded flustered and embarrassed, very unlike her usual composed self.
“Is it true, what you just said?”
“Yes,” she replied in a very small voice. She cleared her throat and began to speak very quickly. “This is such a silly game, don’t you think? A complete waste of time, especially when we have N.E.W.T.s coming up in just over a year and then there’s our homework for--”
“Shut it, Hermione,” Harry said, very softly. And he proceeded to rub his thumb over her bottom lip.
“W-what do you m-mean?” she murmured. He was still rubbing her mouth. It was really very distracting. She couldn’t think. Why couldn’t she think? Then she felt the softest trace of someone’s lips on hers and her brain shut down completely.
Harry had also given up any attempt at thought. It was all about feeling. Feeling Hermione--the warmth of her lips, the softness of her hair--
“Mmmmmm, Harry,” she whispered as their lips came apart. “That was”mmmm.”
“Yeah,” he agreed huskily. She rested her forehead on his chin, both of them breathing in short, rapid pants.
Harry was having trouble believing that this was happening. He had kissed HERMIONE! She wasn’t mad--she wasn’t even crying--and he wasn’t making a fool of himself. His only other kissing experience, with Cho Chang under the mistletoe last year, had been one step short of disastrous. But this felt so . . . so right. Kissing Hermione was everything a first kiss should be. And in many ways, this was his first kiss”the first kiss he had initiated at any rate. He was utterly overwhelmed by sensation”the taste of Hermione, the scent of Hermione, the feel of Hermione . . .
Hermione was also having trouble believing. She had read about first kisses, rather extensively in fact (several of the Muggle magazines she had read over the summer had been very informative, although diagrams and/or pictures would have helped improve the quality of the articles, she had thought critically at the time), but nothing in any of the books had prepared her for this: Harry’s taste”sweet and spicy at the same time; Harry’s scent”a mixture of fresh air and that lemony-spicy soap he used; Harry’s touch”gentle and innocent, but with a hint of the passion she knew he kept inside . . .
Then Harry reached out and brought his hands to Hermione’s wrists. He began gently tracing his fingertips up and down her arms; she shivered deliciously.
“Harry . . . I . . . Oh, that feels so good,” she sighed, rubbing her head dreamily against his chin.
“This is really amazing,” Harry said in astonishment. “I mean, really really amazing, Hermione. I never realized how much I . . .”
“Me too,” Hermione breathed.
“Is it all right if . . . ?”
“Yes.”
Harry dropped his hands to her waist and with a sudden motion tugged Hermione against him and dipped his mouth down to hers. She reached up and wove her fingers through the soft tangles at the nape of his neck. Pulling her even closer, Harry slowly, tenderly, deepened the kiss. He felt Hermione’s lips part slightly, her breath gentle and sweet. He knew she could feel him trembling, but he didn’t care.
He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. He was kissing Hermione and she was kissing him back!
Rational thought fled. He reached out hesitantly with his tongue, gasping when he felt her respond. Hermione’s hands moved up and down the back of Harry’s head, clutching at his hair, snatching fistfuls of it as they kissed with more and more urgency. His heartbeat thundered in his ears and his hands roamed wildly from her lower back, to her face, to her neck.
“Hermione,” he murmured against her lips, “I just--”
BANG! BANG!
“Time,” sang out Ginny. And she yanked open the door.