Chapter Two: Global Warming
“It’s bloody hot in here.”
“Oh, it’s going to get even worse,” Hermione said with a defeated tone in her voice.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.
They were lying side by side on the floor underneath one of the tables, trying to stay out of the sun that was throwing its last rays determinedly through the high ceilings of the greenhouse. Hermione sighed.
“Harry, it’s just before sunset. Let’s assume that no one finds us until tomorrow. Can you imagine how hot it’s going to be in here around, oh, one o’clock in mid-June?”
Harry swore out loud. “Well,” he said glumly, “that ought to be pleasant.”
“It’ll be even worse if we don’t find something to do until then. I’m bored silly.”
Harry turned on his side and smirked at her. “You have your bag, do some homework.”
Hermione turned to face him and, at the smug grin on his face, smirked back and heaved at his shoulder. He rolled a few feet, chuckling deeply, before turning back with a determined smile on his face and a hand carefully stashed behind his back. Just as she had leaned over to see what he was up to, she felt the solid whump of a handful of dirt as it landed against her chest. She looked thoroughly scandalized, but couldn’t contain her grin.
“Oh, is that the way it is?!” she chimed, and dashed away to take cover on the other side of the table, poking her head up only to fire the handfuls of soil that she packed in her fist from the plants around her.
The two of them bobbed and weaved around plants, diving and sprinting in their war to muddy each other’s robes. Their laughter echoed around the tinkling walls of glass, occasionally followed by the stretch, shift or groan of the vast array of magical plants lining the ceiling and littering the walls and tables.
Then, all of a sudden, the greenhouse grew too silent. Hermione was crouched and creeping around the corner of a table, stalking Harry for a silent attack, two thick handfuls of dragon dung fertilizer clutched behind her back. She paused at the corner of a table, poised to leap out at him, when she heard a light snap behind her. She turned quickly, only to find herself sprawled flat against the floor on her back.
“AMBUSH!” Harry had cried as he leapt at her from behind. He pinned her to the floor, his hands trapping her wrists, his knees straddling and pinning her hips to the floor. He crouched over her triumphantly. She smirked for only a moment before raising one of her legs between his, and in his moment of shock, she rolled against him, planting his back firmly against the floor and allowing her to sit astraddle his waist and pin his hands as he had hers.
It was then that realization struck Hermione. She was sitting astride his waist, hands at his wrists, and he certainly wasn’t fighting. The reality of the situation seemed as though it hadn’t quite hit him. Yet.
Without allowing the possible consequences of the situation sink in, she moved toward him … and smashed the handfuls of dragon dung into his face.
He sat up roughly, pushing her onto the floor and swore loudly. For a moment, she thought he would be angry, but as he muttered, “Scourgify!” and his face was wiped clean, she heard laughter in his voice.
“Touché,” he responded and chuckled.
With a triumphant grin and an uncomfortable laugh, Hermione smirked back at him. “Gotcha,” she said.
“So it would seem,” Harry returned. Suddenly, she felt Harry’s eyes roving over her body. A part of her wanted desperately to cover, to hide from this scrutiny, but as she felt it would be unfriendly, she merely averted her eyes and blushed. Her heart started pounding, however, when she saw him raise a hand to her chin and turn her face back to his.
Gently “ ever so gently “ he used the flat of his thumb to wipe away a smear of dirt from her cheek. The pair blushed heavily as they gazed at each other, Harry raising his wand and muttering, “Scourgify!” as he pointed at her robes.
“What are we going to do, Harry?” Hermione asked, a definite squeak of panic inching into her voice. “I mean, what if no one finds us? What if no one misses us for days and then they all leave for the summer and don’t remember to get us out and we’re stuck in here and””
Harry raised a hand to stem the insistent flow of worry. “Hermione,” he said patiently, “you’re Head Girl, and I’m … me. Someone will notice we’re missing. We won’t be in here forever. We’ve just got to wait until someone notices we’re gone, that’s all. Ron will probably remember right after dinner and then come down and get us. It’s fine.”
Harry’s voice was calm and steady, but Hermione could see that there were worry lines crowding his eyes as well. The sun had gone down now and she knew that it must be well after dinner. Ron had forgotten them. And who knew when the next person would realize their absence …
An indeterminate amount of time went by as Harry and Hermione tried to occupy themselves in uneasy silence. Harry could see the panic on Hermione’s face, though she tried to keep it smooth as she arranged and rearranged her schoolbooks within her bag.
The sky was losing its tinge of pink and melting into a deep royal blue. Hermione tried to stifle the rumbling in her stomach as they sat, quietly assuring themselves that someone would find them before long. By the time stars were winking into view, Hermione decided that it was time to forage for something to eat.
“There must be something in here that’s edible,” she mumbled as she wandered through the tables, scanning each plant. After a minute or two of stoically refusing to admit defeat, Harry sighed, stretched and then got up to help her.
He rummaged in his bag for a moment, thinking he may have stashed a cookie or two from lunch, he went to help Hermione scour the greenhouse for possible fruits and vegetables.
“Hey, Hermione!” Harry called across the greenhouse after a few minutes. “This section of plants says, ‘Cafeteria supplies.’”
Hermione looked up from the plant she had been studying “ something she had thought was cabbage until it nearly took her hand off “ and moved over to where Harry was bending. Harry pointed to a few plants that looked vaguely familiar.
“Hmm,” Hermione muttered, “garlic … no, that won’t due … um … sugar cane, that’s not particularly helpful … caraway, that’s used in cooking but I wouldn’t””
“That’s a fruit, you know, caraway,” Harry said, plucking one off the vine, “that should do.”
Harry had already popped one of the five-pointed fruits in his mouth before Hermione knew what he was doing.
“Oh no, Harry you shouldn’t” !”
But it was too late; he was already chewing and swallowing. Harry looked at Hermione quizzically as she started to back away carefully, averting her eyes.
“What’s the matter?” Harry asked, puzzled. “It’s not poisonous or anything, I know that. Aunt Petunia used it all the time.”
Hermione was behaving most peculiarly, in Harry’s opinion. She had started to pull her robes around her in a rather unnecessary fashion. “No,” she began, “no it’s not poison. But … that is to say … it’s … it’s used in …”
“Spit it out, Hermione,” Harry said as he contemplated taking another of the fruits.
“It’s a rather potent … erm… that is, it’s used in … fertility potions.”
Harry quirked an eyebrow. “So? Lots of things are used in fertility potions. Besides, it doesn’t do anything to Muggles, and they use caraway seeds in cooking all the time.”
“Well, yes but,” Hermione stammered, backing away a little further, “but that’s after it’s been harvested and treated. When it’s … you know, fresh … it’s a rather powerful,” Hermione stopped to clear her throat and then mumbled the word, “aphrodisiac.”
Harry had been ready with a scoff on his lips, but before it left him, he began to see that Hermione was not the cleverest witch of their age for nothing. Harry suddenly felt very warm and shaky. With a weak smile, he turned and strode to the other end of the greenhouse before he could make a fool of himself. Hermione blushed crimson and then stationed herself under the front desk with a book, hoping that reading something for the 47th time might help put her to sleep.
*****
A few hours later, Hermione woke on the cold and slightly damp floor of the greenhouse and gasped. Looking up at the sky, she saw nothing but a vast blanket of glittering stars. She couldn’t resist. Hermione rose to her feet and twirled slowly, taking in the wonder of the unencumbered night sky. After a moment of turning her grinning face up to the heavens, she realized she was being watched.
In a dark corner of the greenhouse, Harry was leaning against the wall, arms folded, watching her light spin. His green eyes were lamp-like in the dark, and she felt as if she were being undressed, so intimate was his gaze. After a rather uncomfortable moment of silence, Hermione returned to the floor and curled up for sleep.
She lay for what seemed liked at least an hour, but couldn’t regain her peaceful slumber. Her muscles ached from the unforgiving stone and the dirt covering the floor seemed to have taken on an artic chill.
“It’s so cold,” she whimpered to herself, drawing her robes around her.
Hermione jumped when Harry’s voice came to her, only feet away. When had he moved?
“It’s because the floor is flagstone and we’re near the lake,” he said gently. “And because it’s two o’clock in the morning.”
When she didn’t answer, he continued softly, “Come here, lay by me and I’ll keep you warm.”
She looked up into his face, dappled with the soft light of the moon, now hanging heavy over their heads. “Erm, you know, Harry, that might not be the best””
He sighed heavily, interrupting her. “It’s fine Hermione,” he said quietly. “It’ll be fine.”
“Has it … are you still …?”
“No, it hasn’t worn off yet,” he answered to her unfinished question. “It’s all right, it doesn’t matter.”
“I don’t know…”
Harry grumbled low in his throat. “I’m not going to try anything, Hermione,” he said irritably.
Because she could see, in his face, that he wouldn’t, Hermione scooted the few feet between them and lay down next to Harry, somewhat awkwardly. With barely a catch of his breath, Harry turned her gently so that her back was against his stomach, and lay behind her. She jumped just a tad when she saw him dress down to just his school pants and shirt sleeves, but instinctively snuggled closer when, under the drape of Harry’s school robes, he lay an arm gently across her side and around her stomach. Under the stars, Hermione laid her head back against Harry’s chest and slipped into slumber.
*****
The Effect of Gamma Rays on Two Terrifically Trapped Gryffindors. by Fenixaze
Chapter Notes: A/N - Just realized that I forgot to add Chapter Two!!! Some of you must have been so thoroughly confused!!!!
SORRY!!!