Coffee and Doughnuts

Coffee and Doughnuts

by: Eowyn, Lady of Rohan

~*~

It was too early to be up on a holiday, Hermione Granger decided as she stood at the glass sliding doors leading to the forest behind the house. The sky was a light blue, colored gold and pink along the horizon as the sun rose up. She rubbed her upper arms in the chill of the early morning, feeling somewhat exposed in her sleeveless summer nightdress, though there was nobody around. Or so she thought.

Suddenly two hands covered her eyes and a voice against her ear whispered, "Guess who." She rolled her eyes beneath his hands and grinned.

"Harry Potter, what are you doing up at this hour?" He dropped his hands and she turned. Harry's untidy raven hair was even more so from sleep, and his emerald eyes were droopy yet sparkling behind his round rimless glasses. He wore only a bathrobe and boxer shorts, showing off his well-developed chest, which she was so not staring at. The chill bumps on her arms only increased as she thought about how he'd changed from the scrawny short eleven-year-old boy she'd met on the train, to this 6'1" muscular "eye candy," as Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil dubbed him their fifth year. Quidditch had a main role in this transformation, and the added fame only gave him a higher advantage of getting women left and right.

But no, Harry stayed the same shy, sensitive male inside, and Hermione admired him for those qualities, which were oh-so-hard to come by these days. She shivered as she thought of other qualities about him she admired, like the way he looked in his Quidditch uniform, or the way he smelled. He was never one for cologne, and she could remember when she was thirteen and riding on Buckbeak, holding onto him for dear life - only one thing stayed in her mind, and it was how good he smelled - woodsy with that bit of musk that was only Harry's. And to think in the nine years since then he still smelled the same.

"Cold?" he asked at her previous shiver, and she blushed, smiling shakily to try and ward off the feelings that had been occurring more and more lately. It's only hormones, she told herself. The hard part was convincing herself that it was 'only hormones'. But just imagine how his hands would feel running over your skin - your legs, and your -

"Yeah, kind of. You know how the mornings are."

"Well here," he took off his bathrobe and draped it around her shoulders. "That's such a scandalous dress you're wearing - for you, anyhow." She glared at him, though her eyes were laughing. "It's a compliment. I mean, it compliments you. Shows off your figure. I didn't mean that in a derogatory way, I just mean to say -"

"Harry, shut up."

"Okay." He Summoned a T-shirt to put over his bare chest, and Hermione sighed, slightly disappointed inside.

Tying the sash on the bathrobe, she opened a cabinet and started rummaging around for the doughnuts her mum and dad usually bought when they would come to the beach house for the summer. Hermione'd invited Harry and Ron for a two-week vacation in the Gulf of Mexico at her parents' private beach house that was a two-minute walk to the beach. The house was rather cozy, and cool in the mornings, as Hermione already found out, but around midday it cooked in the house, which didn't have central air conditioning, but rather window units in only two rooms. Lately she hadn't been having to use the units, which was odd but she wasn't complaining.

Still, Hermione wouldn't have traded the vacation for anything.

A loud shout came from upstairs, and Hermione looked over at Harry with a bewildered expression, who just grinned back at her.

"Ron must be dreaming about that blonde bird that he picked up the other night - not here, remember, she took him back to her hotel room? Yeah, that one." She rolled her eyes.

"Men."

"Hey! I resent that. I'm probably the only virgin I know, we're not all like him."

"And I respect you for it, but you're not the only one you know, either." At his raised eyebrows she nodded. "I can't believe you didn't think of me, I mean, I doubt any guy would want to ever -"

"Now it's your turn to shut up. You're pretty - one of the prettiest girls I know - and the most brilliant witch to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts. There's no reason a guy wouldn't like to, well, you know. I could name about five that were talking - and thinking - about you seventh year."

"You have to say that because you're my friend." She grabbed the cabinet handle, and suddenly felt his warm hand close over hers, slightly rough but graceful and long-fingered. She felt her heart start to drum wildly against her ribcage, and her breath shortened. He had the eyes that could melt many girls with that certain look, but she didn't dare melt for she might miss a moment of seeing them - they only pulled Hermione into their depths, mesmerizing her and holding her. She'd known him for eleven years, why did they still have this effect on her - the one that rendered her speechless and made her feel like a hormonal fourteen-year-old again.

"No, I don't." With his other hand on the counter beside her waist, he seemed too close for her to breathe properly, and just as it seemed he was leaning in - or was she leaning out to him? - a loud yawn permeated the air. They turned to see Ron Weasley shuffling into the kitchen. Hermione sighed with annoyance, slammed the cabinet door shut more forcefully than she'd meant to, and grabbed three coffee mugs instead, setting them down on the table Harry was already in his seat at, and the three of them always ate at for breakfast and dinner (lunches were usually spent at the beach).

"Good morning," Ron yawned again widely, and Hermione just scoffed while Harry eyed her, brow knitted in concern.

"'Morning," he absentmindedly replied. Typical Ron - to ruin the moment, she thought bitterly, then sighed with resignation. Well, I guess he didn't mean to...but still, couldn't he have seen we were preoccupied? Pssh, what am I thinking? Harry didn't want to kiss me, he was just staring in my face, and I don't really know why. Maybe I don't want to know why.

"We going to the beach again today?" Ron asked, biting into an apple from the bowl in the middle of the table.

"You and Harry can, I've got to go shopping for some groceries - we've run out of doughnuts and - oh look, coffee too."

"I'll go with you," said Harry. "It's been a while since I've been in a supermarket, and what can I say, the beach gets pretty old fast." She smiled at him as she poured the orange juice, and he smiled back to that familiar twisting in her solar plexus. Get a grip on yourself, girl, or you're going to spill this orange juice. It's just Harry...just Harry.

***

"Ooh, wouldn't you like this sexual gel stuff? 'Guarantees orgasms in less than three minutes!'" Harry exclaimed at the supermarket two hours later. Hermione blushed furiously and snatched the box out of his hand, placing it back on the shelf.

"Hush, people were looking at you!"

"Well, it's not like it's not out here for everyone to see anyway," he said, grinning as she pulled him along by the sleeve of his jacket. She'd chosen to wear a loose beige sweater over a white tank top, and jeans, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and the sleeves of the sweater rolled up to her elbows. She dropped a box of cereal into the shopping cart she was pushing around, and Harry snickered.

"What now?"

"I'm just thinking about cereal and the sexual gel. I wonder if you could get an orgasm while eating the cereal if you poured some of that stuff all over it." She tried to refrain from laughing, but she couldn't keep it in, and burst in giggles. "Hey, I've got an idea."

"Oh, no..." Hermione moaned, but shut up as Harry slipped an arm around her waist, grabbing the box of gel from the shelf with his other hand.

"Hey, love, why don't we use some of this gel, I bet it could spice up our sex life," he said rather loudly. Hermione buried her face in his shoulder with her laughter, wanting to kill him at the same time from some of the odd looks they were getting. When she calmed down a bit, she wished he would keep her laughing, so she could stay in this position forever, breathing in his scent and feeling his arm around her waist.

"You're insane," she said, reluctantly pulling back, and put the gel back on the shelf for the second time, pushing the cart to the coffee isle, with him trailing behind her.

"Why don't we get this coffee? I bet it can spice up our sex life as well," he said, pulling some Swiss chocolate-flavored coffee from a shelf. She rolled her eyes.

"No, Harry...dear...we should put it back."

"But there's no harm in trying it." She sighed, throwing her hands on her hips. He was smiling again, and she wanted to rip out her hair for him behind so god-damned good-looking and charming.

"Fine then."

"Excuse me, but you two make such a good couple," said an elderly woman, stopping with a smile on her face, her skin almost translucent with age. Hermione glanced at Harry, who looked a bit uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, and blushed, her cheeks growing incredibly hot - even more so than when Harry'd been so close to her in the kitchen.

"I - er - we're not. A couple, I mean."

"Oh, that's a shame," said the woman. "You looked like you were in love, and I just assumed. I guess I'm just nosing in, my apologies." Hermione wanted to jump into a pit of hot lava from the embarrassment - she could feel Harry's eyes on her again.

"No, it's fine," Harry quickly said. "It's funny, really. We've just been best friends for so long that it's odd to think of ourselves as an actual couple."

"Oh, but you know what they say - love is friendship set on fire. Have a good day, you two." The woman hobbled off with a sort of odd grin on her face and Hermione cleared her throat, desperate for some change of atmosphere.

"Well, that was interesting. Oh, look, here's the coffee." Harry took the can of coffee from her and set it in the cart, and she arched an eyebrow at him but he started pushing the buggy, this time she being the one to trail behind him. She didn't know where he was going, but she really didn't care - she just wanted to be far away. The way Harry'd said, 'it's odd to think of ourselves as an actual couple' - what did he mean by 'actual' couple? Like they were a couple already? Why am I letting what some woman who's never met, much less seen, us in our life decide what I feel? I guess I just feel crummy because I wish for something more. It's normal, after knowing him for all these years I should...right? Harry stopped and turned around, looking at her.

Hermione, before she could stop herself, decided one thing, and if she didn't do it, she knew she'd regret it forever. She walked up to him, put her hands on his shoulders, and kissed him. He didn't respond for a second, and just as she was about to pull back, his hands gripped her waist and pulled her against him, his lips sliding across hers to deepen the kiss. It felt like fireworks were going off in her stomach, spreading like wildfire to her feet, to her arms, to her head. But she knew she'd have to break their embrace sooner or later, and she chose sooner.

When she opened her eyes, she saw the familiar jade pools swirling before her.

"God, I've wanted to do that for quite some time now," he said, dragging a hand through his hair and making it stand on end even more. Hermione couldn't help but giggle.

"So why'd you wait so long? Besides, I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around."

"I didn't know you were waiting too. And yes, but I kissed you back, you see." He slipped an arm around her waist. "What do you say we check out already and call it a day?" She grinned.

"I'm beginning to like that idea."

The elderly woman placed a can of spaghetti sauce in her basket before walking to the check-out line, laughing to herself the whole time. "It never fails." She muttered.

***

FIN