Worth Loving

Chapter 10: Brush

Oliver closed the door from his chamber, passing his hand through his face as he prepared for breakfast, heading down the castle's spacious hallway.

What had happened last night?

"You pressed lips with Hermione's sister," his mind told him. But it had been more that that.

His skin still shivered as he remembered how Fleur's kiss aroused his body, how her slim figure toppled against his embrace, sending sparks all the way through his body. It had felt so incredibly good...

Oliver mentally hit himself. He could not be thinking like that. What would his parents say?

He scoffed. He was the sole heir to the throne of Ithaca. Penelope and Odysseus would let him have whatever he wanted, whenever and however he wanted it. But did he really want to risk a relationship with Helen's youngest daughter? She was more unpredictable than Hermione was, and that was saying something, as Hermione's personality had always been as bizarre and uncommon as a ship sailing through the Bermuda Triangle: Poseidon's residence. Of course, his understanding of women did not help the matter. If he did not understand the simplest and most common of damsels, what made him think that he could risk a relationship with Fleur and make it work?

Moreover, why was he thinking about this to begin with? As far as he was concerned, there was nothing between them, nor would there ever be as far as he was concerned.

"Oliver!"

He jumped to find Fleur out of her room in a baby pink gown. He had not even realized that he had not moved much since he closed the door and he was just beside Fleur's bedchamber.

"Uh...hello." He could not help but stammer.

"Accompany me for breakfast? Having breakfast, are you not?"

"I suppose," he responded, appetite already gone. For some reason, he found himself dreading the day that awaited him.

****

"I...uh...how, oh crap." Hermione could not find her voice. It was weird enough that Harry was watching her upon his bed, from which she had not even bothered to get up.

"You fell asleep and I did not want to wake you. I slept in one of my other chambers," he stated, seeing her puzzled, almost terrified face.

"You did not have to-" Her voice was a mere whisper.

"It was pretty late when I finished talking. I was not going to have you out on the hallway by yourself at such an hour."

"Well...thank you." She managed to smile thinly as their gazes locked, Harry looking intently at her.

"I... better go then."

She stood up from bed in a flash and passed him, heading for the door without even fixing her hair, which by then was probably a curl fest.

****

Breakfast was a quiet affair. In fact, the whole day was awkward. Fleur flirted with Oliver at every change she got; that was not awkward at all, but oh well. However, Hermione spent most of her day inside her room, taking a peek at the books that she had borrowed from Harry's bedroom. Alexandria spent her day solving the people of Troy's problems, or rather, yelling at them and Harry spent a quiet day swimming at the lake.

His mind still dwelled on the thoughts of Hermione sleeping on his bed. Her sight had been so tempting that he actually had to fight the urge of throwing himself on top of her and make love...Snap out of it! She was Helen's daughter and he would never attempt to pursue her. No. That was out of the question, as it might result another disaster for Troy. Besides, as far as he knew, it was just an infatuation.

"Yes, just that," he told himself.

However, that statement proved untrue as late afternoon came.

****

Harry walked to his rooms and enjoyed a warm bath after the distracting coolness of the lake. As his mind scattered these thoughts, he suddenly remembered that letter he was determined to write to his godfather a couple of nights ago.

"Before Hermione interrupted," his mind reminded him. And he found himself thinking about the beautiful princess once more.

Harry splattered water all over himself as he withdrew his mind from the previous thoughts. He got out of the tub and out a towel around his waist. He was going to finish the letter before dinner.

He took his quill and dipped it in ink only to...

"What the...?"

He sighed in anger. It seemed that the door had conveniently programmed itself to knock just when he was in the middle of something important. And it effectively did interrupt him from finishing the task at hand.

"Hermione." Her name escaped his lips automatically as soon as he opened the door.

"I apologize, is this a bad time?" she asked, lowering her head before her cheeks grew slightly warm.

Harry followed her gaze and suddenly became aware that the only coverage that his body had was a towel.

"Oh! I'm sorry. Come in, come in! I will be a minute, let me just-"

"I just came to return your books!" Her voice trailed to the bathroom after his rushed figure closed the door.

When his response did not reach her ears, she decided to go ahead and put the volumes on their respective shelves. It was the least she could do when he had offered them to her so disinterested.

She went to the armoire's corner and began accommodating tomes carefully by alphabetical order.

Suddenly, she felt Harry's embrace behind her as a hand directed hers to the right shelf in which the book at hand was supposed to go.

"That goes there," Harry whispered in her ear and she closed her eyes to feel his breath tingle against her skin, only to open them wide once she realized he had backed away, and mind you, once she realized what she was doing. Her body immediately turned around to face the prince of Troy.

Big mistake. Her slim body just collapsed against his embrace. He had not put much distance between them and Hermione had not realized it in time to avoid the awkward situation.

She looked up at him, unable to find her words as she put her hands on his chest to maintain what little distance she could.

That being a lost case, she lowered her head and focused on his green Trojan robes.

"Returned them all," she whispered sudsdenly. He barely heard.

"Wow, you read them all?" His breath prickled her skin once more and that knot on her throat became more perceptive.

"Just the ones I t...took. T...thanks."

"Do you want the rest?"

"You would-" She dared to look at his face and her mouth closed automatically as she noticed the intent look upon his emerald eyes. She could even inhale his scent at their closed proximity.

All it took was a look into those irresistible chestnut eyes and Harry suddenly found himself leaning towards her.

His hand found her waist and held it softly as his lips came in contact with hers.

It started as a hesitant brush, but he could not resist the softness of her mouth and opened his own over hers. His mouth moved sensually slow over hers, until he realised that Hermione was not responding, but she didn't pull away either.

He tore his mouth away to find Hermione staring right at him, her body absolutely still, her expression puzzled and he could swear that her eyes were beginning to water.

Harry's mind was racing a million miles a minute. The last thing he wanted was to scare Hermione away over a spur of the moment. What could he say? What could he do?

"Hermione, I'm sorry, did I h-?"

"I have to go," she stopped him before he could finish his question, storming out of the room.