Much Ado About Hermione

Chapter 8: Surfacing Emotions

"I got the new issue today," said Dean. He excitedly eyed the boy sitting next to him. "Harry, the new issue came today."

Harry slowly turned his head and faced him. "New issue of what?"

Dean stared at him for a moment, before leaning over and whispering, "Wizard Skin." Seeing the disinterest on Harry's face, he asked, "Did you hear what I said?"

"Yeah, I heard you."

"This is their special edition." Dean lowered his voice. "The theme for this year is leather. There are women in there dressed like dominatrix, thigh high leather boots, the works. I flipped through it earlier, and it's very good."

"Can't wait to open up the magazine," said Harry blandly.

As Dean whispered into his ear all the wonders of leather, Harry stared at the couple sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table.

Ron and Hermione both had intense looks on their faces. As Ron attempted to whisper something into her ear, Hermione looked away and moved closer to Parvati. The redhead slowly looked down at his food and began to stab at his roast beef.

When he lifted his head, his eyes met Harry's and the two observed one another. A smirk developed in the corner of Ron's lips, as he looked away and casually put his arm around Hermione's shoulders. When he looked back to see if Harry was watching, the seat next to Dean was empty.

***********

Harry crawled into his bed, not bothering to take off his shoes or clothes. On his pillow was a parcel wrapped in brown paper. He opened the package and the magazine fell onto his chest. He looked at the picture of the busty blonde on the cover before closing his eyes and throwing the magazine across the room.

"Hey, what the hell's going on?" asked Dean, as the magazine hit him on the forehead. He reached down and picked it up. "Why did you throw this?"

He sat down next to Harry's bed and flipped through the pages. "I told you it was good stuff. Look at this girl. Isn't she beautiful? She'll be in my dreams tonight."

"Please Dean. I would like to get some sleep."

"Okay, but look at this girl here." He held up the picture of a thin redhead in a leather thong to Harry. "Harry, you're not even looking."

He waited till Harry turned to face him. "She's hot, right?" Before Harry could answer, he was turning the page and commenting on another girl's looks.

"Dean," said Harry. "I was actually thinking about having an early night."

"Wow, look at her. My God she's flexible. Can you imagine making love with her in this position?"

"Dean, I'm really tired--"

"I knew a girl once who was this flexible. You don't know her, of course. And we used to get to all sorts--" He stopped talking and when a heard a rustling noise coming from under Harry's bed. "Harry, do you hear th--"

Just then, a magazine hit him smack in the face. Before he could react, several more magazines came flying towards him. Dean covered his face with his hands as back issues of Wizard Skin made contact with his head.

He got up from the bed and stared down at Harry. "What the hell is the big idea?"

"Can't you see that I don't want any company?" Harry asked in a tight voice. "I came up here to be alone. I don't feel like talking about some girl in a leather outfit. I just want to get some rest."

Dean began to rub his bleeding forehead. "Then why didn't you just say so from the beginning?"

"I did try to ask you nicely to leave me alone, but you wouldn't listen."

As Dean headed out the door, he looked back at Harry. "You're a psycho."

Harry sat up on his elbows and looked around the room, which was now scattered with pictures of nude women. He fell back onto his bed and closed the curtains around him.

He lay in the darkness, letting his anger subside. As he stared at the ceiling, he heard his dorm mates entered the room.

"Oh my God," said Neville.

"Wow," began Seamus, "will you look at all these beautiful women? Dean tells me he went crazy and threw them at him."

Harry could hear their footsteps as they walked around the room.

"Seamus, put that down. That picture's disgusting."

"No, it's not. Neville look, it's your gran."

"Shut up."

"Neville, don't you think I'm sexy?" said Dean in a high voice, trying to imitate an old woman. "Come over here so I can spank your bottom."

"That's very mature of you. I think I'm gonna be sick. I can't believe Harry would look at something like that, it's so perverse."

"My God Neville, you're starting to sound like such a prude. Loads of lads look at this. In fact, I think I'll take this magazine. It'll help put me to sleep."

"How will it help put you to sleep...Seamus, that's disgusting."

"Oh, like you never do it?"

"I'm not going to even answer that."

"I bet you do it loads. It's always the quiet ones who are the most perverted. Harry's quiet and look at what he's into."

"Shut up." Neville lowered his voice. "Do you think he's awake?"

"Nah, he went to bed hours ago."

As he lay listening to the other boys joke about the pictures, Harry's mind drifted to Hermione. In the past, he would have enjoyed himself, sinking into complete pleasure as he envisioned her in various erotic scenarios. But tonight he felt no desire to do anything of that nature. He was staring into the darkness for what he assumed were hours, when someone began to speak to him.

"Psst, Harry," said Ron.

Harry held his breath, not wanting to make a single sound.

"Harry, are you awake?"

He began to breath again when he heard Ron climb into his bed and close his curtains.

**********

Everyone was busy gathering their things for their trip to Hogsmeade, except for Harry. Sitting in a small chair with a blanket wrapped around him, he watched as Ginny and her friends gathered at the other end of the common room, giggling to themselves before walking out of the portrait hole.

"Harry," said Hermione.

He slowly looked up at her.

"Are you okay? You seem a little out of it."

"I'm fine."

Ron walked up to the table. "Herm, are we going?"

Hermione bit down on her lower lip. "I don't think we should, Harry's not well."

Ron's eyes glazed over Harry's pale skin, his pigeon-holed eyes and said, "He looks fine to me. Let's go."

"Harry, I won't go until you say you're well."

A slight smile spread on Harry's face when he saw the motherly way in which Hermione was looking down at him. He then glanced over at Ron, who was giving him a look that said, "I dare you to tell her you don't feel well."

"I'm fine," Harry finally muttered.

"I told you," said Ron. He took hold of Hermione's hand and led her away.

She halted at the portrait hole and looked back at Harry one last time, before approaching the table again. She leaned forward and placed the back of her hand against his forehead. "He's burning up. I told you he was sick."

She began to remove her jacket. "I'm staying here with him."

"Herm, I thought we were going to town?"

"Well, not anymore."

"This weekend, we were gonna--"

Hermione nudged him on the side of the stomach. "Harry's not well, I can't leave him here alone."

Ron placed his palms on the table and glared at Harry. "You can take care of yourself, right?" The words came out sounding more like a statement than a question.

Harry's eyes flitted from Ron to Hermione. He nodded his head. "You guys can leave. I'll be fine."

Ron grabbed Hermione's waist and began to pull her towards the portrait hole. "Come on, let's go."

She moved away from him. "I'm staying here. You can go if you want."

He watched as she pulled a chair next to Harry and began feeling his forehead again. He exhaled loudly, before leaving the room.

"You really don't have to stay," said Harry. "I don't want you to think you're responsible for me."

"I wouldn't be able to enjoy myself if I went. Plus, I want to be here with you."

He wrapped the blanket tighter around him as he began to shiver.

"This little blanket is not enough to keep you warm." She got up from her seat and ran up to the girls' dorm. She returned minutes later with a thick duvet, which she wrapped around his shoulders. "Come and sit by the fire, so you'll get warm." Harry obeyed her command and sat in the armchair near the fireplace.

She tucked the blanket around him, creating a tight cocoon around his body. "You sit right there and tell me what you need."

Several weeks ago, Harry's command for her would have involved her on her knees in front of him, but those desires have waned; he simply wanted her close to him. "You being here with me is just enough."

The two looked at each other and smiled. That was the first time he was able to look at her without feeling a slight pain in his chest. Perhaps things were different now because Ron wasn't around, he thought.

"You know what you need?" she asked. "You need some soup. Soup is the cure for all the ails you. I'll just sneak into the kitchens and get Winky to give us some thick hearty soup."

Harry stared at her while she walked to the portrait hole. "Hermione Granger, I'm shocked by you."

"What? I don't spend all my time studying, you know."

***************

Sitting in front of the fire, Harry closed his eyes, enjoying the gentle feel of her fingers.

"Is that too hard?" she asked.

He did not respond.

"Harry, am I doing everything right?"

"Yes." Although his eyes were closed, he could sense how close she was to him. The slight scent of her perfume drifted into his nostrils and he sat back, enjoying the aroma.

"Do you like what I'm doing?"

He nodded his head. He forced himself to open his eyes, and looked at her face. He had never really taken the time to closely examine her face, too distracted by her other physical attributes.

His eyes washed over her pink lips and the gloss that shimmered on them. He examined her eyes, which twinkled from the light of the fire, bringing out the amber hues that lay within them. "You have really lovely eyes," he said.

"My eyes? Lovely? Brown is such an ordinary color. I wish they were another color, like blue or like yours."

"Mine?"

"Yes yours." Her hand dropped from his forehead to his eyes. "They're like lovely emerald oceans." She began to gently rub at his eyelids. "I could stare into them all day."

The two regarded each other for a moment before she quickly took her hands away from his face. "I should really get these bowls back to the kitchen." She gathered up the soup bowls and spoons from the floor.

He didn't know what made him do it. Perhaps it was the comfort of talking to her, or having her hands on him, but he knew he had to say it. He grabbed her arm just as she was about to get up from her little stool. "I like you."

She looked down at him and smiled. "I like you too."

His fingers remained tight around her wrist. "No, I have feelings for you. I'm falling for you."

He took a deep breath and prepared himself for what he had to say. Having gotten over the first initial shock of hearing himself say those words to her, everything started to pour out of him with more ease. "I've noticed you since the first day of this term. You just took my breath away."

His voice was very low and he talked extremely fast, thinking he would lose his nerve if he had to think about what he was saying. "I just want to be with you all the time. And it physically hurts me when you're not around."

The smile on her face slowly disappeared. She pulled her arm away from his grasp and carried the bowls to the table. She closed her eyes. "Harry, you don't know what you're saying. I think you might have a fever that's making you delirious."

"I know what I'm saying. I really like you."

"You just feel that way because we're really close. You're confusing friendship with love."

"Hermione, will you listen to me? I'm falling for you. This has nothing to do with friendship." He looked down at his hands. "I think I love you."

"I can't believe this."

Harry watched as she began to pace the room.

"This is not happening to me," she said. She whirled around and glared at him. "Why do you guys have to complicate things? First Ron, now you."

She threw her head back and took a deep breath. "Harry, please don't do this to me. I can't deal with this anymore. I have enough on my plate."

"I didn't mean to make things harder for you. I just wanted to let you know how I feel."

"I wish you would've kept those feelings to yourself. Now it complicates everything. You've now made my life harder. Do you know that?"

Harry stared at her in disbelief. He knew that his revelation might startle her, but he did not expect her to react in this way. "This isn't how it happened in my dream," he said, looking into the fire.

"What?"

"I dreamt we were having this same conversation. But this is not how things turned out."

"How did things turn out?"

Before he could stop himself, the words poured out of his mouth. "You gave me a titjob."

"I what?"

He stood up from his chair and looked at her. "Hermione, I didn't mean to say that."

"Harry, I don't want to talk about this any more, okay? I have to go." She picked up the bowls and headed out the portrait hole.