Three Seasons to Closure

Chapter 14. Getting to Know You

A beautiful snowy owl tapped lightly on Hermione's kitchen window, forcing her to put an end to her delicious lie-in. She had been lounging in her bed well after the sun came up, reliving her date with Harry by lolling about from detail to detail. There had been the most wonderful Chicken Marsala; the air on Main Street had smelled like burning leaves, one of Hermione's favorite scents; and Harry, who proved to be quite the chatterbox during their first proper, sober snogging session, had whispered incredible little phrases between kisses. She smiled as she heard his voice again in her head.

"Why haven't we been doing this all along?" he'd whined. "We could have popped into the Room of Requirement between classes." Hermione heard herself giggle in her memory.

"If Ron had told me you kiss like this..." he'd teased, which, Hermione recalled, had made her blush deeply. The very thought of Harry and Ron sharing any such details would be nothing less than mortifying to the lone female of the lot.

"This is what I want," Harry had also whispered in the most amazingly masculine voice - low, soft and commanding. "I want you, Hermione Granger. All for myself."

TAP - TAP - TAP

Hermione shook herself once again from her guilty reverie and looked back toward the window. "If I must," she murmured, as she slid into a robe and a pair of slippers, approached the window and heaved it open. "Hi girl!" she called out in a raspy morning voice. "What have you got for me?"

Hedwig dutifully turned over the roll of parchment she'd been clutching, and Hermione tossed a treat at the owl, who tutted and flew away. "See you then," the amused witch called out uselessly, shutting the window and rubbing her eyes. Hermione stared at the scroll for a moment and then tossed it on her table, deciding that her need for use of the bathroom usurped any immediate desire to find out what was in that letter.

Dawdling under the steady, warm pressure of water of her morning shower, Hermione found her thoughts to be once again drawn back to the previous evening. Snogging for hours in her living room had been...What had it been? "Good. It had definitely been good," she thought. "Not weird at all." Hermione struggled for a while for an adjective that meant "not weird" but failed, deciding to leave it at that. "Sweet - Gentle - Sensuous," she added. "Sensuous?" Hermione groaned. It seemed that her uptight and predictable brain was devising yet another list - a List of Words Describing Harry's Intimacy. Leaning into the water stream, she scrubbed her face and tried to think of something else, feeling a bit shameful.

"Exuberant," her mind appended involuntarily. Hermione shut her eyes in defeat; she was apparently unable to control her wandering mind this morning. The things Harry had said, the way he kissed - Hermione didn't know why, but she found that she'd been quite taken by surprise. She never really gave much thought to how Harry was with a witch...romantically. But now, as she reflected on the subject, she realized that it could have easily been predicted. This was vintage Harry. As with his public persona and his "best friend" self, intimate Harry was warm and considerate. It didn't seem possible, Hermione mused, but he was at once bold and adorably shy. He was satiating and generous, and a little bit...needy?

"No, not needy," Hermione reflected. It was more that Harry really seemed to...appreciate the affection that he was receiving. When Hermione had experimented with a little puff of air on Harry's neck, he'd shivered slightly which left her with a strong desire to do it again and again. A light caress on his cheek caused him to close his eyes, looking as if he was trying not to react too strongly. Hermione knew why Harry would be particularly responsive to female attentions, his neglected youth and all that, but it still made her feel so...competent. And sexy. And desirable. It was addictive. Yes, it was just so like Harry to beef up Hermione's ego, all the while showing off own particular talents.

After finishing her indulgent shower and getting dressed, Hermione finally returned to her kitchen and unrolled the parchment that Hedwig had brought to read its contents. She smiled: It was Harry, as usual, asking what they'd be doing today. "I suppose I should have sent back a reply with Hedwig," the witch considered as she set the parchment down on the table, "seeing as how I don't own an owl." She tapped the scroll lightly with her index finger and smiled again naughtily, knowing very well what she'd like to do today...

"Well," she said aloud, "I'll just have to Floo." As a wicked thought crossed her mind, Hermione bit her lip. She went into her bedroom to retrieve her wand from the nightstand and pointed it at her chest, concentrating hard on a spot on Harry's living room carpet, just outside his bathroom. Not a second later, her attempt at a bit of morning humor fell flat, as Hermione collided with a heavy wooden door the moment she appeared in Harry's living room.

"What the...?" Harry let out, pulling away from the door he'd been opening to see Hermione sitting on the floor, rubbing her forehead.

"Harry. Hi!" Hermione said, laughing meekly. "Thought maybe you'd be getting ready..."

"And?" Harry asked wryly as he extended a hand to help Hermione to her feet.

"Well...I thought maybe you'd be in my favorite 'outfit' or something..." she answered, feeling that this was all sounding much lamer in reality than it had inside her head a few moments ago.

"Kind of a joke...towel, remember?" she offered awkwardly.

"Well, as you can see, I'm perfectly decent," Harry said. He gestured toward the mirror, in which was reflected a nicely dressed wizard and a very embarrassed-looking witch. Harry pulled Hermione into a hug, leaning his head affectionately on top of hers and placing a kiss there. "But," he said, smirking and returning his gaze to the couple's reflection, "I'm extremely flattered by the effort."

Hermione flushed. "So, you don't always saunter about your flat in nothing but a towel then?"

"Nope," Harry retorted. "Only when I'm trying to poach myself in that insidious bathtub over there." He pointed toward the unused tub and led Hermione out of the cramped bathroom and into the kitchen, which was dimly lit from the red-orange light of the morning sun. Coffee was already brewing in a Muggle appliance that had been one of Harry's very first purchases after gaining acceptance as an Auror apprentice and moving to London. Chuckling to himself at the image of Hermione sprawled out on his floor before him, Harry grabbed a pair of grey, stoneware mugs from the cupboard and set them on the counter.

"So, what are we doing today?" he asked.

"This is Saturday, Harry," Hermione said. "Aren't we going for a jog or a bike ride or some such torture?"

"Yeah," he replied, "that sounds good. I was trying to give you an out if you wanted it. I don't normally exercise with a girlfriend." Harry poured coffee into the two mugs as he said this, absently fixing them with cream for himself, sugar for Hermione.

Hermione stared blankly at Harry.

"What?" Harry asked, shoving a mug toward his guest.

"You said 'girlfriend'," Hermione answered, fixing her stare now on the mug.

"Oh," Harry replied. Though he'd been in a chipper mood all morning, the unfortunate combination of a lack of sleep coupled with the intense feelings of anxiety he'd experienced on each day of the previous week - as he'd wrestled with his own discomfort and, finally, resolved to ask his friend out - was that brain went on the alert upon hearing Hermione's reaction to his unconscious ramblings. "You said 'girlfriend.'" So, what of it? Was she still dating that dolt from the university? Harry felt his heartbeat quicken and he felt suddenly a bit embarrassed at his own presumptiveness. His mind leapt about at a quick pace while he tried to remember whether he ought to have picked up on any clues as to Hermione's wishes for their relationship. Had she ever indicated that she was ready for another boyfriend yet?

He, the dolt, must be more interesting to converse with about...arithmancy and such, Harry thought, but hadn't Hermione said that she wasn't really attracted? Harry frowned. He had never been one to go for these open relationships, whereupon each partner was free to date others. He didn't want to date anyone else, and he was positive, now that he'd crossed a threshold or two with her, that he didn't want Hermione to date anyone else either. Anger brewed within him as Harry pushed out a chair and took a seat, sipping on his coffee. Just what was Hermione getting at? Hadn't he practically poured his heart out to her last night on her sofa? He thought he'd made his intentions startlingly clear. He fought to remember whether she had actually returned any of his own foolish blather.

"Harry?" Hermione said as she stared at him, looking a bit concerned. "Harry, are you okay?" She leaned in toward the scowling wizard and tilted her head in a studious gesture. "Are you mad at me?"

Harry set down his mug and gave Hermione a determined glare. "Yes," he said.

"Why?" Hermione asked softly, her face losing all traces of the humor and humility that it'd bore just a few minutes ago when the pair had been bantering about, playfully. In its place, was a look of bewilderment.

Getting up from his chair, Harry stalked across the kitchen, leaned over his sink, and peered sourly out of the window with his back facing Hermione, still brimming with the notion that he'd been used somehow. "Yes, I said 'girlfriend'," he said. "Girlfriend. How can you not want that after...How can you be so casual? We've been friends since...always." Harry examined the spindly branches of a nearby willow tree, which were rustling poetically in the autumn wind. The tree had lost all of its leaves already, he noted, and looked rather stark and unprotected as it bent and wavered against the assaulting currents.

Hermione sat as still as a bookend, staring at Harry across the black and white checkerboard floor that lay staunchly between them now. "When did I say that I didn't want to be your girlfriend?" she asked. She looked determinately at Harry as she posed this question, her voice no longer soft, but defiant and pungent.

"Just now," Harry replied.

He turned to face the witch before him and flinched. Hermione was giving off the impression that she was about to levy a good curse or two. An intense blush took over Harry's complexion and he felt instantly foolish - like an overreacting, possessive git.

"Oh. I just thought...Sorry."

"It's alright," said Hermione, though still sounding as if she were rather put out. She twirled her coffee around a few times and then gave a reluctant smile, looking back up at Harry. "So. That's settled than. Jog or bike ride?" she asked abruptly.

Harry smiled, grateful that his old friend and recent obsession - his new girlfriend - was so adept at washing aside his own foolishness. That ability would come in real handy, Harry thought, as he heard echoes of witches he'd once known all using the same demurely affronted tone as they accused him of being daft, insecure, and generally hopeless. Perhaps this relationship had a hefty leg up on all those that had failed in his dating past.

"Oh, I think a jog would be nice," he said, meeting Hermione's eyes gratefully. "I'll make breakfast first, and then we can get on with the day."

"On with our first official day as boyfriend and girlfriend," Hermione teased, as Harry got up to begin making their breakfast. "Doesn't seem any different, does it?" She swirled her coffee around once more, watching it circle up toward the rim. "I thought this would feel somehow...different."

Harry poked his head into the refrigerator and withdrew a loaf of bread and a jar of pumpkin preserves. "Oh, I can make it feel different if you like," he said, feeling much lighter now that he and Hermione had both admitted to being singularly attracted to one another.

"How so?" Hermione asked, smirking.

Harry set the bread and jam down heavily on the counter and took three deep strides toward Hermione. Extracting the coffee from her hands, he made an almost undetectable flick with his wand. Hermione gasped. Without having moved a muscle, she found herself to be splayed on the cold tabletop, supported by Harry's strong arm and overwhelmed by a passion-filled kiss.

"He used magic on me!" she thought, quite taken aback. "He wouldn't!"

But, after taking a second or two to become accustomed to the taste of how Harry preferred his coffee - without sweetener, Hermione forgot her indignation and became lost once again. Lost in the newfound comfort of an old friend, lost in the excitement of being romantic during the all-business morning hours that were normally set aside for bills and revising, lost in a new and overwhelming sense of closure.

Ten or so minutes later, Hermione tried to peel her body out from under Harry's. The two had attempted to settle into heir breakfast, but it had been hindered by another rather intense bout of heavy snogging. "There's toast in my hair!" she scolded, a bit dazed from the activities. As she squirmed around a bit, in an effort to obtain freedom, she felt a warm current tingle her scalp. "Oh..." she exhaled involuntarily, realizing that Harry had probably just used his wand once again to remove the offending bits of toast and butter.

"Quit complaining," Harry ordered, pressing her back down onto the oak surface, administering another deep kiss and sliding his arm under Hermione's back so that he could lean more fully into her without causing pain.

"It's just..." Hermione began.

"Amazing," Harry finished for her.

"No, that's not what I meant..." Hermione was flustered. Finding herself so completely controlled by someone else was causing her to instinctively rebel.

"It isn't amazing?" Harry asked in a soft, throaty voice, stroking Hermione's hair with his free hand and giving a small smile.

"No," she whimpered, "that's not what I meant either..."

"Shh," Harry whispered in her ear. "I know." He let out another chuckle and resumed kissing his girlfriend with all enthusiasm of a randy teenager.

Hermione sighed through Harry's kiss, uttering feeble little sounds of would-be resistance. "It's just..." she panted weakly, closing her eyes and trying to focus her brain. Another warm sensation caused her eyes to spring back open, abruptly. Harry had done something to the table. It was now clear of any dishes and felt soft beneath her. She felt her hair being gently lifted by a light gush of air, and the kitchen was now filled with the earthy scents and brisk, melodic sounds of fall.

"Harry must have opened the windows," she thought. "Outdoor junky." Sensations, emotions, and feelings of powerlessness were beginning to overcome the distracted witch as she pried her mouth free from its persistent aggressor.

"Harry," Hermione shouted into the cool autumn air that was now whipping through the flat. "Stop using magic! It's not...I don't know...proper."

Harry laughed and flicked his wand again. Aluminum blinds fell closed over the kitchen window, slapping sharply against the sill, and the two were now fully engaged in a passionate kiss; bathed in darkness except for a glowing orb that floated about the room, which cast a beautiful sphere of blue light.

"Harry," Hermione laughed, softening under the false moonlight and Harry's relentlessness. "I mean it! Stop using magic or I'll..."

"You'll what?" Harry quipped, kissing her neck. He sounded breathless and irritatingly overconfident.

Hermione reached into her pocket and with much effort withdrew her wand. She clumsily waved it and issued an incantation, her voice struggling for control.

"Put me back!" Harry yelled, incredulous.

"Not on your life!" Hermione retorted. Laughing, she pulled Harry back down on top of her, sinking slightly into the strangely soft oak table. She ran her hand through Harry's hair, over his shoulders, and across his back, smiling at her own prowess in the world of magic. "I told you this was my favorite outfit," she taunted. She giggled lightly and gasped as Harry, clad now only in that green, fluffy towel, shivered, gave a low moan and tackled her again.

The morning passed too swiftly, in Hermione's estimation. Now, she'd been treated to a deeper and very enticing glimpse into what Harry would be like as a lover and she found herself over the moon with anticipation. "Confident! Playful! Naughty!" The adjectives fell into her head like happy little raindrops, building up Hermione's List of Words to Describe Harry's Intimacy. She found herself in an internal dialog, pondering over the wisdom of suspending the ten-thing-limit she'd long ago imposed on the lengths of all her lists. By morning's end, Hermione had reluctantly extended the list to twenty in length, as "Rugged! Dexterous!" and, she cringed, "Hot!" finished off the pile.

Hermione had been involved with a wizard or two before; she wasn't exactly a lily white dove as far as physical relationships went. But as she and Harry set about their day, jogging in the park and then making their way to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch, she couldn't help but feel like a giddy school girl who'd just received her first kiss - and from the handsome and popular Quidditch captain no less. "Oh Good Lord!" Hermione berated her addled mind. "Get a grip! It was just an intense morning, that's all." She clicked her tongue and shook her head, ignoring Harry's quizzical gesture as they entered the pub. Too cold now for the patio, Harry and Hermione looked around the pub, seeking an empty table. The Leaky was packed full with noisy customers. To their relief, a whistle beckoned them to join a somewhat somber table where Brian, Meg and Alice sat, dividing a pitcher of Butterbeer between them.

"Hello there!" Hermione called out, grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him to join their friends.

"Hello," said Harry. "Where's the happy couple?" he asked, gesturing to a pair of empty chairs opposite Brian and the two witches.

"Dunno," Meg pouted. "We thought they were meeting us here."

"We always meet here," Alice added. "It's been our...thing. I can't believe they're not going to show."

Harry smiled warmly, remembering how Ron had once slowly dropped out of his and Hermione's social scene as he began the grown-up life of a married man. "Oh, they've probably got some wedding things to attend to. I'm sure they'll show up eventually," he reassured.

Hermione chewed her cheek. "I guess this is the beginning for them, isn't it?" she asked, sounding melancholic. "They're growing up, aren't they?"

"Hey!" Brian retorted. "What are you insinuating?"

"You know what I mean," Hermione defended. "Bob and Francis - they'll be worried about important things now like where to build a home, and when to start a family, insurance, things like that." She waved aside the goading that Brian, Meg, Alice and Harry simultaneously launched at her upon hearing the pronouncement of "insurance" as one of those important life things. "You laugh. Go on," Hermione quipped. "But, Bob and Francis are moving out of the world of 'what about me?' and are now entering the more altruistic phase. Life's purpose, for them, is now about someone else. Each other. Eventually, I expect, it'll be about their children." She tossed her hair back defiantly, ignoring the smirks and sneers of her tablemates. "I think it's rather...profound," she added, wistfully.

Harry smiled and threw an appreciative glance at his companion. He couldn't help but be amused when Hermione got herself all worked up about one or another of her life-altering epiphanies, and he could sense that her wheels were turning in that direction. She was happy, and he was delighted to believe that he, Harry Potter, may be the cause of it.

The intimacy of this nonverbal exchange didn't go unnoticed. "What's up with you two?" Brian asked in a loud, brash voice. "You're all...different now."

"Umm," Harry stammered. Neither he nor Hermione had mentioned the new state of their relationship to anyone, and he wasn't sure whether Hermione wanted to admit yet that they had become...a couple.

"Yeah. It's different now," Hermione answered, smiling. "Harry and I are..." she drew a deep breath, "boyfriend and girlfriend now." She laughed as she looked at their friends' joyful expressions. "That sounds weird, doesn't it?"

"Sounds like a bit of a demotion to me," Harry said, thoughtfully. "We've been best friends...'boyfriend' just doesn't sound as important, does it? It's like I went from 'best' to 'boy.'"

"Are you complaining?" Hermione asked, smiling and leaning into Harry, pressing her cheek on his shoulder. "I could call you my 'man toy' if you prefer," she suggested, raising an eyebrow and drawing a look of shock and amusement from both Harry and Brian.

"It's all good," Brian said, smiling at the pair. "You two are cute together." He raised his glass and saluted. "To Hippy and Hunky in Love! Another set of friends lost at sea!"

"Hippy and Hunky!" Alice and Meg shouted, laughing and splashing their mugs together.

As Harry and Hermione hadn't yet secured any drinks for themselves, they just fidgeted uncomfortably and winced as several more rounds of rude toasts were made on their behalf.

"I'm beginning to sense why Bob and Francis didn't show," Harry whispered to Hermione, who laughed and gave him a small kiss on his cheek.

"Yeah, me too, Hunky," she giggled.

Harry made a trip to the bar and came back with another pitcher of Butterbeer. Lazily, he pointed his wand at the pitcher. Five streams of liquid rose out of it and siphoned into five mugs - distributed evenly and without a drop of waste. Brian's mouth fell open at this display of magic, which made Harry shrug uncomfortably. Harry tended to keep his use of advanced magic confined to Auror duties, but sometimes found himself accidentally throwing uncommon spells when he was relaxed and not thinking. A smile formed unwittingly on Harry's face as he recalled the magic he and Hermione had displayed in their little joust in his kitchen. He knew that he had been pushing her buttons, curious to see just how much manipulation his formidable friend would put up with from a wizard. And he had been surprised too that, for all her accomplishments and successes, Hermione Granger was quite easy to fluster.

"Oh, you're lost," Brian goaded Harry, spying the dopy look on the Auror's face. "Lost in Hippy's Love." Brian laughed heartily at his own joke and reached for his Butterbeer to make another toast.

"Oh no," Harry scolded, casting his wand at Brian's mug and freezing it in place. "That'll be enough toasts at our expense out of you!"

"Chivalrous," Meg cooed.

"Look," Harry began, "It's no big deal. Hermione and I were the best of friends, and now," he paused and gave a careful glance in Hermione's direction to make sure he hadn't offended her with his 'no big deal' pronouncement, "well now we've found a way to make it even better." He grabbed his mug and took a deep swig, willing his companions to find a new subject of conversation.

"Friends can sometimes become more-than-friends," Hermione stated helpfully. "I'm sure it happens loads of times." She too took a huge swig from her mug.

The three young people looked around uncomfortably at this.

"What gives?" Harry asked. "Don't tell me...you've dated?"

"Well," Brian said, awkwardly, "a bit. I know just enough about these two," he nudged Meg and Alice gently with his elbows, "to make them blush when the need comes along."

Alice smiled over her mug. "I dated Brian briefly in fifth year. It was cute, but we each had our eyes on someone else by the end of it." She frowned. "Pity, really."

"I gave him his first kiss," Meg piped in.

"Awe," came a collective response from the table.

"How sweet," Hermione teased.

"Yeah," said Brian, "real sweet. She cornered me outside the Quidditch locker room. Scared the you-know-what out of my little thirteen-year-old self!"

"Awe..." Another series of coos greeted Brian, who smiled proudly while Meg blushed.

The group spent a few more hours reminiscing about their school days and eventually graduated to sharing views on Ministry politics. After bidding goodbye, Harry saw Hermione back to her flat where they ate dinner and finished the evening off watching the television in comfortable companionship. He marveled, as he sat next to Hermione on her sofa, at how completely normal this newfound relationship felt. For all their worries about changing their friendship, it seemed that after a full day of dating, the friends were exactly the same.

"Except for the adult-rated bits," Harry reminded himself as he reached over to pull his girlfriend into a cuddle, hoping she was up for a bit more.