Much Ado About Hermione

Chapter 17: Harry’s Choice

Hermione sat on the bed and looked out the window for a moment since Ron appeared to be thoroughly immersed in his slumber, as he had not moved around in his bed for quite some time. She then allowed herself to ponder that night and her future with Harry.

She closed her eyes when she felt the hot rays of the sun on her skin, which had now colored the circular room with splashes of orange. For the first time in what seemed like months, Hermione felt carefree and without any troubles. Of course she had moments of sheer bliss whenever she was with Harry, encased in the warmth of his touch.

But that happiness always faded the moment he left her side, causing her to once more think of the messy situation she was involved in with Ron, and how to get out of it. But now, no such worries were on her mind, as a content smile drifted onto her lips. The ordeal was over and done with, she thought, amazed at how she was able to survive such an adversity without losing her sanity. She opened her mouth and let a laugh escape through her lips as she thought back to the episode in the common room when she had almost lost her mind in front of Ron.

Of course everything seemed so devastating back when she sat in front of that fire. She supposed the stress of the whole situation had consumed her over the course of all those long months, eating away at her body and soul until it manifested into that temporary breakdown. She could still remember the look on Ron's face as he stared at her with sheer confusion.

Poor Ron, she thought, turning her head to glance down at the young man. He had tried his best to comfort her, cradling her in his arms, like he had done during the summer and several times after that at the beginning of the school year. But she now breathed a sigh of relief, thanking the lord the messy situation was now entirely behind her for good, as everything between her and the two boys was finally out in the open.

She supposed she would now be able to get a good night's sleep for the first time in a long while. Most of her nights had been spent sitting up on her bed and staring out into the dark room as her dorm mates peacefully slumbered - some of them murmuring the names of boyfriends or young men they fancied. She recalled an episode that frightened her when she overheard Parvati call out Draco's name. But she later understood why her fellow Gryffindor fancied the blond. Young Mr. Malfoy was indeed an attractive young man; but in Hermione’s eyes, his sour personality and cold heart made him seem ugly. She supposed his appearance and reputation for being a bad boy appealed to Parvati, as it did to many of the other girls in school.

While girls like Parvati were busy dreaming about Draco, Hermione's mind would race with horrible thoughts of Ron, that caused her chest to tighten and her heart to pound, as she mused over ways she would try to avoid him; plotting out escape routes and figuring out which halls to walk into to keep from encountering him. But he always seemed to find her, cornering her in some corridor, his body pressed against hers as he tried to steal a kiss.

That night, she thought, will be completely stress free, as she imagined being in that bed at the hotel with Harry. A sly twinkle glimmered deep in her eyes as she thought of rewarding Harry for sticking by her side by allowing him to do whatever he wanted to her in bed. She would never allow Ron or Krum to have free reign over her body, as both of their sexual tastes leaned towards the perverse. She remembered one particular night when Ron told her his sexual fantasies; she spent nearly an hour cringing and lifting her hand to her shocked face, as he described things to her that bordered on torture.

But she didn’t blame him entirely for his thoughts; she knew the raunchy men’s magazines he often looked through - the ones he had shown her one afternoon - heavily influenced his fantasies. Although she had acted appalled and stunned when he flipped through the pages, showing her moving pictures of couples engaged in astonishing acts that required a great deal of flexibility, part of her was also intrigued. She couldn’t resist taking one last look at those images after Ron had stepped out of the dorm to use the restroom.

As her eyes gazed over the images, she began to picture herself in the same scenarios as those women. Soon, she felt herself getting excited, her panties becoming moist. She cut her visit with Ron short that day – telling him she was suffering from a terrible migraine - so she could return to her dorm and conduct some other activities. Hermione stiffened and shook her head, as she tried to get those thoughts out of her mind, telling herself over and over again that the time spent in her bed, as her naked body writhed under the sheets, were not induced by the images in that filthy magazine.

Her mind quickly began to race with thoughts of what she would bring to the hotel that night. The only provocative garment she owned was her long silky nightgown. She knew Harry would go mad for it, as he wasn’t big on anything too racy.

She turned her head to the door, as a strong force beckoned her downstairs. She began to get off of the bed, when she felt something grab hold of her arm. She looked down to see Ron’s fingers tightly gripping her wrist.

"I don’t want you to go with him," he murmured.

She immediately dropped her gaze, realizing he had overheard her conversation with Harry. Her face began to burn with embarrassment as she thought how she almost walked out of the room without even saying goodbye to the slumbering boy.

"I don’t want you to got to Hogsmeade with him," Ron pleaded, his eyes misty.

Hermione stared down at him. Although she felt pity and sympathy for what he must have been going through at that particular moment, she wanted to pull her arm away. After a morning filled with an exorbitant amount of stress, she was now getting tired of having to explain her feelings to him; she hoped he would just accept her feelings for Harry and let her go on her way to Hogsmeade with a clear conscience.

"I thought I already explained to you how I felt," she said in a stern voice. Her brows were now beginning to crease, as she glared at him.

"The only thing I understood was how confused you were. I know deep down you really want to be with me."

Hermione’s face tightened and she pulled away from him, moving to the other end of the bed in the process. She didn’t make a reply, only giving him a hard glare. After a moment of heavy silence, she finally said, "I know exactly what I want. I want Harry." With that, she got up and sat down on the green-eyed boy’s bed, touching his velvety comforter with her fingers.

Unlike the last time, when she tried to keep her love for Harry from surfacing on her face, she smiled unabashedly as her hand gently moved along his pillow. "I want to be with him."

She then reached out her hand to his nightstand, opening the bottom drawer. Her eyes easily rested on the cover of the book Harry had let slip from his fingers, she hoped by accident. She lifted it from the drawer and observed the other books that were hidden underneath. Her gaze was suddenly caught by a bright yellow book that had a half naked woman on the cover. To the normal observer, the book could easily have been mistaken for porn. But Hermione knew this book was nothing like Wizard Skin or any of the other publications that catered to the sexual needs and fantasies of wizards worldwide.

Hermione reached for the book; she was very familiar with it. Although its pages also contained pictures of naked women, this publication was more of a learning tool than a masturbatory instrument. The book was written to help wizards everywhere become familiar with the sensitive and erotic areas of the female body through the use of diagrams, pictures and written descriptions. Although designed for men, the publication was mostly bought by women, with the intention of giving it to their husbands or lovers who were too shy or reluctant to venture to the bookstore on their own.

Hermione sat back on the bed, a pleased smile on her face as she thought of how considerate Harry must have been for getting the book. As she flipped through it, she saw little notes he had written to himself on the edge of all the pages.

Ron sat up and leaned forward, as he too was eyeing the publication with some interest. "I guess you’ve found Harry’s stash," he said, his gaze drifting to the naked woman on the cover, who kept winking at him. He was unable to keep the amusement from creeping into his voice. His hand then shot into the drawer in search of what else Harry could be hiding.

"Wow," he exclaimed, as his fingers came into contact with numerous books, "he must have about ten books in here. I didn’t think he would be so into porn."

Hermione glanced into the drawer, looking at the book titles Ron’s fingers were touching. Each and every book her eyes gazed upon was a help aid, like the one she held in her hands. "Those books and this one," she said, " are instructional devices that help men learn more about a woman’s body. Men can learn how to..." She dropped her head as a tinge of discomfort enveloped her body. "Best please us." She soon felt the book being forced out of her hands.

"Looks like porn to me," Ron said, glancing at the pages. He stopped on the twentieth page, his eyes widening as they settled on the picture of the woman lying on her back, her legs spread wide. "Self help, my arse." He turned the book around so Hermione could look at the picture. "What the hell do you call this then?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "It shows men the areas of the vagina, so they know their way around." Her voice was now louder than usual and the embarrassment of a few moments ago had disappeared, replaced by anger and frustration.

Ron took one last look at the picture before tossing it onto Harry’s nightstand. He then lay back on his bed, resting his arms behind his head and glancing at Hermione with an amused smirk on his lips. "What’s Harry doing with self help books anyway? You’d think he’d know his way around a woman’s body by now." He stretched out his legs in front of him. "But I guess he needs all the extra help he can get because he once told me Cho didn’t think he was good in bed."

Hermione’s body jolted, unable to believe that anyone who has been on the receiving end of Harry’s hot kisses, soft caresses and fluid thrusting could deem him a poor lover.

"He told me that his first night with her," Ron continued, "was pretty much a disaster."

Ron then told Hermione about the night during their sixth year when Harry had sat nervously on the edge of his bed, looking down at his hands, before confiding in him about his first sexual experience with Cho. "It appears as if Cho wasn’t really into the act," Ron said, "because Harry said she didn’t make any noise. She just lay on the bed staring back at him. He said he felt really stupid afterwards, upset with himself because he didn’t make her come."

Hermione looked down at her hands, feeling somewhat sad for Harry and angry with Cho. She knew that if she was making love to someone and found she was not enjoying the act, she would not just lay on the bed, idly watching her lover with disappointed eyes, making him feel bad the way Cho did to Harry. She would definitely move around, lifting her hips to meet his thrusts, kissing him and gliding her hands up and down his body to encourage him.

"Of course I tried to help him out," Ron went on. Although he provided his friend with some advice such as getting special condoms that would enhance Cho’s pleasure, Ron spent most of the night telling Harry all about his own fabricated experience with the young women of Hogwarts. He could still recall the look of envy on Harry’s face as he talked about bringing the girls to orgasm and hearing them scream out his name in his ear.

"I never guessed he would go out," said Ron, "and purchase a self help book. That’s almost as bad as getting Pumpkin Juice for the Soul." He leaned close to Hermione, lowering his voice although they were the only ones in the room and said, "I saw Neville reading that book once. Isn’t that sad?"

"That just shows he’s trying to improve himself, just like Harry is doing." Hermione wanted to say more to him just then, such as ask him how he could have the audacity to criticize Harry, when he himself had never had sex. But she kept quiet, thinking the glare she was giving him was enough to convey her anger.

She put the yellow book back in the drawer; the one she was truly interested in lay on the bed next to her. She lifted the massage book and tucked it under her arm, prepared to give it to Harry when they met up downstairs.

She glanced back at him, ready to say goodbye, when he began to speak. "I kinda always knew you’d go for Harry like every other girl in my life. They always take one look at me with my bright red hair and choose Harry. That’s the way it is now and that’s the way it will always be. He always gets the best of everything, so why shouldn’t he have you?"

Hermione’s brows drew together to hear such a declaration of self-loathing, which she hoped was embellished slightly to force her to pity him and thus stay by his side for a moment longer. But after taking a long look at his face and his eyes, she determined he was not making anything up and truly felt that way about himself. She always knew he had an inferiority complex, after all he had to live in the shadow of his other brothers, who have all done well for themselves - Bill and Charlie were experts in their fields, Percy was gaining high ranks in the Ministry and the twins were now being described as "marketing geniuses" in the Daily Prophet for the success of their shop.

She got up from Harry's bed and sat down next to him. "That’s not true." Her hand lifted to his head, as her fingers did their dance around his hair. Her touch always seemed to soothe him, regardless of how bad he was feeling; she was even able to calm his frazzled emotions when he was denied a spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team that year.

"Lots of girls like you," she said. "What about that Hufflepuff you dated last year? I don’t know why you broke up with her." Hermione’s mind wondered back to the young woman in question, the blonde that seemed enraptured by him. Ron and the girl had embarked on the longest relationship Hermione had ever seen him in, nearly four months. She had never seen Ron happier than during those months, as he walked around the castle whistling to himself, even accompanying her to the library to find a rhyming dictionary, so he could compose poems for his girlfriend - although they were rather crude and mediocre in style, Hermione always thought it was a nice gesture.

The young light haired girl seemed equally taken by Ron’s charms, as she couldn’t keep away from her. She would often eat meals at the Gryffindor table, causing many on the Quidditch team to grumble, as they thought she would take back important game strategies to her own house. She would even walk with Ron to his classes, even though her own class was at the other end of the castle.

"She seemed to be in love with you," Hermione continued. For the longest time, she had assumed Ron had lost his virginity to the blonde.

Ron closed his eyes. "She wasn’t interested in me. She was just using me to get close to..." He slowly turned to her, his skin ghastly and white, his expression closely resembling the look on his face when he confided in her about being a virgin. "She was only using me to get close to Harry. That’s why she always wanted to hang out with us and sit at our table."

His gaze dropped to his lap, before looking over at Harry’s bed. "I should have known something was up when she kept asking me questions about him. I only found out about it through one of her friends."

Hermione’s hand lifted to his shoulder, her fingers running to the curve of his neck. She then imagined all the mean things she would say to that girl, if they ever crossed paths with one another again. But she soon realized she didn’t need to say any hard words to the Hufflepuff, as the blonde was already suffering from the stigma of being Ron’s girlfriend. The price of being associated with the redhead was having the school hear tales of your sexual escapades – whether they were true or not did not matter, as the students were more intrigued in hearing a saucy lie, than the boring truth. By now, everyone had already heard the tales of what she and Ron had done in the Astronomy Tower together.

Hermione remembered seeing the girl walk down the hall with her head lowered, as groups of other students snickered and whispered about her. The Slytherins were by far the meanest, as they had nicknamed her ‘Weasel's Plaything.’

Hermione’s head suddenly snapped towards Ron, wondering what he told others about what they had done together. Although no one had ever said anything to her, she always became uncomfortable when in the presence of Seamus, as he would always wink at her whenever she exited through the portrait hole with Ron, somehow knowing where the couple was going and what they would be doing.

Her body began to shake as she thought of herself wounding up in the same situation as that poor unfortunate Hufflepuff. It did not take more than a whisper for a girl to find herself being branded as a ‘harlot’ around the school. Many a breakup have ended up with the angry ex-boyfriend opening his mouth - possibly to save face in front of his male friends, she thought - and telling everyone of sexcapades that took place during the relationship, as was the case with Draco and Pansy Parkinson.

After Ms. Parkinson broke up with him and went with another boy to the Yule Ball, Draco went on a rampage, telling anyone who would listen about what he and Pansy did in the boys’ dorm together and sometimes even in Snape’s own office late at night. Of course, the poor girl no longer walks with her head held high in the air, eyeing everyone as though they were beneath her. "Poor Pansy," Hermione thought, fearing she would find herself in the same predicament as the Slytherin.

"I really liked her," Ron went on, disrupting her thoughts. "It was really difficult for me to witness Harry’s relationship with Cho. You have no idea the kind of pain I was going through every time I had to listen to him go on and on about how in love he was with her or see him get all those owls from her during meal times. So, when Susan started to show an interest in me, I was thrilled. A little confused but thrilled. I was even thinking about inviting her to the Burrow for the summer. But I thought my mum would throw a fit if any of us ever brought a girl home for any extended period of time." Just then, he turned to Hermione and quickly added, "It's different with you though."

Hermione managed to give him a weak smile. But deep down, she was dreading what Mrs. Weasley would think of her now if she knew the situation at hand. She doubted she would get an invitation back to the family home that summer. But she didn't care about that, as the Burrow was the furthest thing on her mind at that time. The place she wanted to be invited to was the London flat Harry will be living in after he graduated.

Glancing up at Ron and seeing his lips moving again, Hermione pulled herself out of her thoughts, as she remembered she was there to help him get through his heartbreak. In reality, helping Ron would also help her and Harry, as they would finally be able to freely show their love towards one another without worrying about their friend's reaction.

"When I found out about her using me," he continued, "it really hurt me. I couldn't believe she would do something like that, considering the way she had acted so sweetly around me."

"I don't think she did it maliciously. I think she liked you deep down. She's still a nice girl under--"

Ron shot her an intense glare that immediately shut her up. "She hurt me," he said. "Do you know how that feels to have someone you genuinely like say they were more interested in your friendship with The Boy Who Live than with you? I still think about it."

Hermione lowered her eyes, thinking how sad he had been after that episode, remaining in his bed for long periods of time and sometimes even refusing to attend class. The only person who was delighted with the boy’s absences was Snape, who delighted in giving him detention.

That was also around the same time Ron had established his playboy persona, and began 'dating' numerous girls; reports of him sneaking out with a different girl each night were not uncommon.

"I guess that's why I started to..." He lowered his head, letting out a bitter laugh. "That's when I started running wild, moving from girl to girl. I guess I figured I'd try to have as much fun with lots of different girls as much as possible and not devote my time to one person in particular, so I wouldn't get hurt again." He lowered his voice to a mere whisper. "Until you came into my life and did the same thing to me."

Hermione dropped her head, looking away from the gaze that was now making her feel guiltier. All this time, she had been judging the Hufflepuff, when she should have been looking at herself and her own actions. Surely using him to get close to Harry must have been hurtful, but that did not compare to the way she had toyed with his feelings, all the while conducting an affair with his dear friend behind his back. "I feel like..." She paused, thinking there were no words - none that she could utter out loud anyway - that could describe how she felt about the way she treated him.

Ron placed his hand on hers. "You don't have to say anything. I understand." He then took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "I don't know about you, but I can't take anymore of this. Spending an entire day discussing your feelings and what not can get a bit exhausting."

He draped his arm around her shoulder once more, causing Hermione to close her eyes, wondering if he would ask her to lie down with him again. "He’s probably waiting for you downstairs," he said, his voice sounding beaten. "I guess you better start packing."

"Ron are you..." She stopped talking and examined his face, making sure he was not joking with her. "You're okay with me leaving you?"

He hesitated for a moment, before getting off the bed and heading to the window. Placing his hands against the warm glass, he lowered his head. "Of course I'm not all right with it. But I don't have any choice. You love him and want to be with him. I can't force you to stay here with me."

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his back, her eyes large with disbelief. It seemed to her as though she had been waiting for that moment for so long. She closed her eyes, thinking she would open them once more and see the reality: Ron would be standing over her, his hands clasped against his chest, his narrowed and angry eyes glaring down at her, as he screamed a string of obscenities.

She brought her hand to her chest when she opened her eyes and found him still at the window, this time he had turned around and was staring at her. "Why did you close your eyes?" he asked.

"Nothing." She got up from the bed and walked towards him. Before she could think of what to do or say, she found herself wrapping her arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight embrace. "You don't know how much this means to me."

Ron at first had stayed withdrawn, but eventually gave in to the hug, until he wholeheartedly enjoyed it. "I care about you," he managed to say. "I want you to be happy. And hearing the way you were talking to him earlier, I could tell he makes you happy."

She looked up at his face and then raised herself up on the tips of her toes, giving him a kiss on the lips. Normally he would have placed his hand on the back of her head as he attempted to deepen the kiss, but he did no such thing this time, only allowing his lips to touch hers for a mere second.

She hugged him again, this time resting her head in the crook of his neck. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear.

Still in his arms, a sudden panic came over Hermione, as she glanced into his eyes, looking with some fright at those brown depths. "Ron," she tentatively started, "have you ever shared...." She hesitated, as she did not want to anger him, or worse, put ideas into his head. "Did you ever tell anyone about us? I mean, besides Harry?"

Ron looked down at her for a long time before he answered. "I didn’t say anything to anyone." He turned his head and glanced across the room. "I learned my lesson." His hand lifted to his face, as he began to rub his cheek. "You’re not the only one who can throw a good punch."

Hermione drew her brows together, questioning what he was talking about.

"I saw Susan a couple of weeks ago," he said. "I bumped into her when I was going to Herbology. I hadn’t seen her in awhile and we didn’t break up on good terms, so I really didn’t know what to say to her. But I opened my mouth to say ‘hi’ or something, when she smacked me across the face."

"What?"

"She slapped my face. Well...it was more of a punch than anything else. Then she started to scream at me for ruining her life. Says she can’t go anywhere without someone chanting crude things at her." He dropped his eyes to the floor, his face growing tense. "I didn’t think it would be difficult for her. When I told those stories, I wanted to get back at her for what she did to me. I always assumed everyone would have forgotten them by now, but I guess the Slytherins and Justin have a way of preserving rumors."

He brought his hand to Hermione’s head, his fingers traveling deep into her thick mass of her highlighted tresses. "I would never do that to you," he whispered. "I’ve never breathed a word of what’s happened between us to anyone."

Hermione stayed in his arms for a while longer, before pulling away and walking to the door. "By the way," he called out after her, "could you guys please try to keep your relationship to yourselves for awhile? I wouldn't feel comfortable if I had to watch you guys kissing and holding hands."

"Okay." When she reached the staircase, she glanced over her shoulder at him. He was still at the window, a dejected expression on his face as he looked back at her.

~*~*~

Harry slowly walked down to the common room, his backpack slipping off his shoulders and his eyes downcast. Seamus and Neville were still at the fireplace, occupying themselves with eating their bounty of sugary treats. They both turned their heads towards him when they heard him descend the staircase, staring at him with wide eyes that lingered with curiosity. "Did you see anything?" asked Seamus, his mouth full of taffy.

Harry glanced at the boy, observing the cheeky smile that was growing on his face. At that moment, he felt as if that toothy grin was mocking him, making light of the serious situation that was going on between him, Ron and Hermione. If only you knew the truth, Harry thought, you wouldn’t be grinning. Seamus indeed would not be grinning, but smiling as he ran around the school telling of the love triangle the three seemingly inseparable, crime fighting friends were now involved in. He pictured Seamus whispering all the juicy gossip to his partner in crime Justin, who in turn would tell all the other Hufflepuffs.

Harry then imagined what Draco would do with the information if it ever reached his ears. The blond would surely delight in torturing him with snide remarks and backhanded comments, anything to pay back the green-eyed boy and his redheaded friend for humiliating him over the years with well-publicized beatings.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the grinning boy before him, forcing him to drop his gaze. He then made his way to one of the empty sofas and threw down his backpack, causing some of the other students who had come back from Hogsmeade or from their outside activities to turn their head towards him. But he ignored all the eyes that were now on him, and dropped down on the sofa, his long legs stretched out before him.

Colin Creevey and his younger brother bound into the room just then, their faces rouged from their trip to Hogsmeade. They made their way to their favorite celebrity, when Neville grabbed hold of both their arms and shook his head. Harry then watched as the boys all huddled together and began to whisper to one another in hushed tones. God knows what they were saying about him, he thought.

But he could care less about what the other students thought of him at that time, and closed his eyes, trying to free his mind of any thoughts. But that was a arduous task, as nothing could keep him from thinking of his two friends upstairs. He then tried to concentrate on the one good thing in his life at that moment: his new home.

He had already owled his deposit to his estate agent to secure the two bedroom flat in Chelsea he had his eye on for the past year. The change in residency was much welcomed indeed, as the Dursleys had been threatening to throw him out of their house since the summer. "I can’t wait until you graduate from that freak school of yours," his uncle said to him one morning over breakfast - Harry of course was not given any food and was merely an observer. "The minute that diploma gets in your hands, you’re out of here."

They would of course let Dudley stay with them until the chubby lad’s dying days. And it seemed as though their son will be with them for another couple of years, as he had been forced to drop out of school due to his failing grades. But his cousin had it easy, as he could always find work at his father’s company.

Harry’s future was already set as well, as he too had a job for when he graduated. The offers had surely come in from every Quidditch team in the league, as they all went to great extremes to try to lure the young man to their organization; the fruit baskets and singing telegrams still lay under his bed - late at night, he could still hear the faint banter of the Cannons’ telegram, which seemed to outlast the rest. He had given the gift certificates he had received from the Arrows to Molly Weasley, who wasted no time in indulging her senses with a day of luxury at the Excalibur Spa and shopping at the exclusive boutiques in Diagon Alley.

But despite these glorious offers and his love of the game, Harry had declined. But he did accept a job offer from the Ministry of Magic, to work alongside Author Weasley. Mr. Weasley was both surprised and pleased to hear the young man would be working in his department, as it was understaffed - additionally, having Harry by his side brought much needed attention and prestige to the department.

There had been much talk of him being an Auror as well, and the Ministry had arranged a secret meeting between him and the head of that department. It was said that with his magical skills and past experiences with Voldemort, Harry was equipped to handle the position. But Harry wanted to stay away from the Dark Lord, not go chasing after him. Plus, he didn’t want to risk his life, as he had someone else who was very dependent on him: his godfather.

Sirius had been in hiding for four years and depended on him for food and shelter. Harry’s sole purpose for choosing a home in Muggle London, was so he could be closer to his godfather, whom he was also setting up with a home of his own. And he figured Quidditch and being an Auror would take too much of the time he needed to spend with the other man.

Hermione of course knew only of his decision to live in London, but not of his choice in occupation. Harry had wanted to tell her all the news of his future plans that morning, but had quickly changed his mind when he saw the scene at the twin’s shop.

Just then, Harry happened to look up and see Ginny come through the portrait hole. Not seeing that he was lying down on the sofa, she walked past him and made her way to the girls’ dorms. A smile sprang to his face, as the fragrance she always seemed to wear drifted over him, floating over his body like a thin cloud.

But that smile disappeared as he thought of the other young lady who was up in the dorms at that moment, the dark haired girl who had caused him so much grief. Harry glanced up at the staircase leading up to his dorm, staring long and hard into that semi-dark corridor. He then picked up his bag and headed out the portrait hole.

~*~*~

Hermione raced down the stairs with an exuberant smile on her face. When she reached the common room, she was accosted by Seamus, who immediately began to stare at her, his eyes slowly traveling up and down her body. The young man then leaned close to Neville and whispered something into his ear. Then, both boys glanced up at her once more. A smug smile began to develop on Seamus’ face. Hermione noticed how Neville’s cheeks were turning a light shade of pink.

"Did you enjoy yourself, love?" Seamus asked, in a syrupy tone she didn’t appreciate.

She glanced from him to Neville, who now had his head lowered, probably trying to hide a smile, she guessed. She wondered why they were staring at her, but quickly guessed they must have seen her coming from the boys’ dorm.

Out of habit and annoyance, Hermione’s hands immediately flew to her hips, as she adopted a defensive stance. Her eyes now dared the young man to say something else to her. But Seamus lost his nerve and glanced away. Hermione didn’t know what possessed her to be so agitated by the young man; she knew at his age, he was titillated by goings-on between the sexes. But she looked away, as she had more important things to deal with at that moment than immature behavior by members of her house.

Hermione’s eyes then darted from face to face around the common room, which was now packed with people, in search of Harry. She turned to the two boys sitting on the floor before her to ask if they had seen him, but stopped herself. She assumed her question was better suited for the Creevey brothers, as they were less likely to come up to conclusions as to why she was looking for the green-eyed boy.

"Have either of you seen Harry?" she asked as she stood over the sofa where the two young men were now seated.

"You just missed him," said Colin. "He left about—"

Hermione didn’t wait around to hear the rest of his statement and quickly made her way to the portrait hole.

~*~*~

Harry continued walking until he was at the front steps of the grand castle. He made his way down and was about to proceed with his journey, when he heard someone call out his name. He turned around and found himself engulfed by Hermione’s arms, as she pulled him into a hug. She then placed a few kisses on his cheek, inching her lips slowly towards his mouth.

Harry noticed Parvati and her sister walking in their direction. The twins stopped for a moment to stare at them, and then lowered their heads as they began to giggle. Harry immediately pulled away. He eyed the two young women as they made their way up the stairs, throwing them a quick glance over their shoulders every now and then.

"Why did you do that?" he whispered. "People will see and then Ron will—"

"You don’t have to worry about that. Ron and I already said our good-byes. So, it’s safe for us to be together. We don’t have to hide our relationship anymore."

"He gave us his blessing?"

"Well…not exactly. He’s still uncomfortable with the idea, but I think he’ll learn to accept it as time goes by." She then proceeded to kiss him on the lips.

There were so many things he could have done at that moment as her lips pressed against his own, like wrap his arms around her waist or open his mouth to intensify the kiss - although not one for public displays of affection, this special occasion called for a breech in his normal practices. But he did none of these things, as his arms remained limp at his side, his lips tightly pursed into a thin line.

The way her body pressed against his and the sensual movement of her moist lips on his would normally have produced an arousal from him by now, but at the moment, he felt nothing. Wondering why his body was not responding more amorously to the kiss, Harry closed his eyes and deeply inhaled the scent of her body. Generally, she smelled of the violet scented bath soap that she always used, but today she smelled different. Harry quickly pulled away as the musky scent of aftershave – not his own – wafted into his nostrils.

"What’s wrong?" asked Hermione.

A great amount of displeasure was now growing on his face, as the scent was starting to make his stomach churn. But Harry kept his face as neutral as possible, as he did not want to give away too much of what he was feeling at that time. "Nothing," he replied, trying to force a weak smile onto his lips.

She continued to look at him for a long time afterwards, causing him to suspect she had figured out what brought about his withdrawal. "I’m sorry about that," she said. "I know you don’t like having other people watch us while we’re being intimate, but I couldn’t help myself."

Harry’s heart began to beat faster, as he had been unaware until that moment that the castle’s lawn was still littered with students. He turned his head and found himself staring at a group of first year Hufflepuffs.

The girls did not have smiles on their faces – like any one of the boys in his dorm would have had – but were glaring at them, especially Hermione. Harry recognized one of the girls in the group as Halley Baxter. The young girl had recently started sending him love letters. She was even brazen enough to stuff one in his book bag as he made his way to class.

Harry quickly placed his hand on Hermione’s shoulder. "Why don’t we go somewhere more private?" He then led her to the rose garden just around the corner.

The air was alive with the fragrant scent of the blooming and vibrant flowers, as he and Hermione made their way around the dozens of rose bushes. The sight would have put a smile on his face – it had surely enchanted Hermione, as she now bent down to smell one of the flowers – but Harry was too entrenched in his thoughts to notice any of nature’s splendor. His head lowered, he stroked his chin as he walked. He was about to take another step, when Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "You have this really intense look on your face."

"Yeah. I’m all right. I was just thinking about Ron and what he must be going through."

"He’ll be fine. He even said so himself. I know it’s a little hard to believe he can be this understanding, but he is. He realizes that you and I love each other."

Harry looked away just then, as he heard that four letter word escape from her lips. "I just hope none of this affects our friendship." He then placed his hands in his pockets.

"It won’t. In a short time, he’ll get over it. He’s gonna find someone else and go on with his life."

"I wish it was that simple, but it’s not. You can’t recover so quickly after something like thi—"

"Harry please," she interrupted, as her hand reached for his hair, slowly running down to his broad shoulders. "Let’s not continue this anymore. Can we please talk about us for one minute?"

Soon the scent of his friend’s favorite fragrance was overpowering him once more, as it drowned out the aroma of the flowers. "Tell me," she uttered in her sweet voice, the same tone that always told him she was in the mood for romance, "what’s the hotel like? I heard it’s very nice."

"It is. The rooms are a bit fancy for my taste, but that’s all right. The beds are real comfortable though. The best night’s sleep I’ve ever gotten was on those beds."

She stared up at him for a moment. "How many other girls have you brought to this hotel?"

"It’s not like that," Harry said rather defensively, "I’ve only been there four times with Ch—" He paused when he noticed the look that was now developing on her face. "Anyway, the place is nice."

"I brought something for us to use while we’re there." Her hand traveled down her robes, as she felt the book that was hidden in her pocket. Her fingers then moved to his face, wrapping around his chin. "Do they serve breakfast in bed?" Her face was now close enough that her breath blew in his face. She leaned forward and attempted to kiss him.

Harry turned his head before her lips touched his. "They can do that. It that’s what you want."

"What’s wrong with you?" she asked. "And don’t say it’s nothing because I can tell."

Harry moved away from her touch and took a step backwards. "I’m just thinking about this whole situation we’re in. What if Ron doesn’t get over it."

"Like I said before, he will get over it. It just hurts now because its still fresh, but—"

"It’s not that simple." He whirled around and threw his hands up in the air, causing his backpack to nearly slide off his shoulders. "This whole situation could have ruined our friendship forever. We could have destroyed six years for nothing." He closed his eyes when he felt her arms wrap around him, and her head resting on his shoulders.

"Nothing like that will happen," she whispered against the back of his ear. "After a while everything will be—"

"Just like before?" He turned around then and looked into her eyes. "I know Ron, he holds on to things. Do you know he can recall every single thing Malfoy has ever said to him since our first year here?"

"But Ron hates Malfoy, we’re his friends."

"That’s not the point. I mean things just don’t pass by Ron without affecting him." He wandered to a nearby benched and sat down. "I remember what he went through with that girl last year."

Hermione sat down next to him. "I know. He told me about how hurt he was."

Harry lowered his head into his hands. "I bet he didn’t tell you that it affected our relationship." He then recalled those times in the dorms with Ron right after he had found about the Hufflepuff’s ulterior motives for wanting to form a relationship with him. The two young men of course joked about it at first, but Harry always sensed a slight withdrawal from his friend afterwards.

"When we were in classes," Harry continued, "Ron would act like nothing was wrong. But when we got back to the dorms, I could feel him glaring at me. And he never wanted to hang out with me as much. It was like that with us for the rest of the year. And now things are gonna get worse." He watched as Hermione opened her mouth, probably to utter some overly optimistic remark about how the redhead would be able to bounce back and the heart shattering incidences of the past months would disappear into thin air, but he stopped her. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to believe those things for himself, he was just tired of living a lie and wanted to face the truth.

"It’s going to affect him," he said. "He’s not going to act the same way around us. Don’t believe the act he’s putting on right now, deep down he’s hurting. And sooner or later his anger is going to surface." He then glanced at Hermione’s face, which now had a devastated expression. "I don’t think he’ll get over it for a very long time." He dropped his head and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I don’t think I’ll be able to put it out of my mind for quite some time either."

Hermione’s hand landed on his just then. "But I’ll help you forget," she said in her breathiest voice possible. But her statement was not able to seduce Harry, as he was about to detect some desperation lingering in her tone. She moved closer to him, till she was almost sitting in his lap, and pressed her mouth against the side of his face. "With time, the hurt will go away." Her left hand then made its way to his leg, as she caressed his knee, an act that never ceased to arouse something in him.

As her hot breath fanned against his skin, her lips gliding effortlessly along his cheek, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of disgust writhing through his body, forcing him to bolt up from his seat and retreat from her touch. "I have to get going," he said, as he glanced inside his bag, making sure he had not forgotten anything.

"What about me? Aren’t you going to give me a chance to collect some extra clothes?"

"Why?" He then watched as she raised her brows in the air. "Whether you decide to go back to the dorms is completely up to you. Your decision won’t affect my plans whatsoever." And with that, he began to walk away.

Hermione caught up with him and took hold of his hand. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Harry halted in mid step. "Didn’t you ever wonder why I didn’t wait around for you?" She remained quiet. "I did a lot of thinking while I was waiting for you. And you know what I figured out?" He paused for a moment, giving her an opportunity to make a guess, but she blankly stared back at him. "I realized I didn’t care if you came down or not. So I left."

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"When I came back to the dorm after my walk," Harry continued, "I was willing to give you another chance. Talking to Ginny, I felt—"

"You told Ginny about us?" she interjected.

"Don’t worry, I didn’t reveal yours or Ron’s identity. She thought I was talking about some Ravenclaw. After I talked to her, I wanted you back, I really did and I still do. But seeing you laying there with him on the bed—" He held up his hand to her when he saw her open her mouth, in an attempt to utter some defense. "I believe you guys didn’t do anything, but seeing you with your hands on him brought back all the doubts I had about you. I kept telling myself that I could trust you, but when Seamus and Neville told me you were lying in bed with Ron," he paused for a moment, when he heard her snort at the mention of the two boys, "I started to panic. I don’t want to live everyday of my life where I’m worrying about what you could be doing with him. I want to trust you but I can’t."

"That is just an easy way out."

"Easy way out?" he yelled. "How can you say that after the shit you’ve put me through?" His hand immediately lifted to his face. She tried to touch him, but he pushed her fingers away. "Do you know the kind of hell I’ve been going through?" He removed his hands, finding it useless to try to stop the emotions that were now erupting, the emotions he kept bottled inside of him since his altercation with the bathroom mirror. "Of course you wouldn’t understand. You’ve been in the driver’s seat all this time, having your fun with the both of us."

"That’s not true, it’s hurt me—"

"I don’t want to hear it!" His chest was now heaving rapidly in and out as his breathing intensified. "Do you know how hard I tried to forgive you? I really wanted to forget everything. But how can you expect me to deal with all of this in just a couple of hours?"

And with that, the tears began to rain from his eyes, running down his cheeks. "I can’t deal with this right now," he muttered. "I have enough on my plate, having to getting ready for a new home, a job and taking care of Sirius."

"Sirius?" she asked. "What about him?"

Harry looked down at her, his eyes narrowed. He could have told her then and there all of his plans, but he kept quiet, thinking she didn’t deserve to know the truth. She must have guessed he didn’t want to say more, because she looked away just then.

"I don’t need any extra aggravation at this time," he went on.

"Are you saying you want to break up?"

Harry didn’t answer. Her breathing was now audible, as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I guess I am," he finally said.

She then grabbed him by the waist, burying her face into his chest. "Please," she said in a desperate voice, "I don’t want us to break up. I really didn’t mean to hurt you or Ron. I swear to God."

His arms wrapped around her, as he tried comfort her. "I know you didn’t. But it’s too late for that." He then heard her begin to cry louder. "This has been the toughest thing I have ever had to do. But I can’t be in a relationship with someone who would treat me like this. I don’t want to constantly worry that you’re lying to me or sneaking around behind my back. As much as I’ve tried, I can’t put this behind me. This is too great for me to just brush off."

"But I love you," she pleaded. "I promise I won’t hurt you."

Harry shook his head. "It’s too late now."

"But can’t we just talk about this?"

"That’s what we’ve been doing all day. And I’m sick of it right now. I’ve already made up my mind, I don’t want to continue this relationship." He tried to move away from her, but she clung to his body, her arms still wrapped tightly around him.

"Just let me explain to you—"

"I’ve already heard what you have to say."

She held up her hands to his mouth, placing her fingers over his lips. "Just listen. I’m not perfect. I made a big mistake. You said I was in the driver’s seat and enjoyed jerking you and Ron around, but that’s not true. A day didn’t go by when I wasn’t thinking about this. It ate at me every single day and night. I wanted to tell you before, but I never knew things would get this messed up. If I had known, I would have tried to resolve it faster. I’m hurting just as much as you and Ron. I hate seeing you guys like this. Whatever I have to do to win back your trust, I’ll do it. But please don’t throw away all that we've had together."

Her hands darted to her eyes, which were starting to water just as much as Harry’s had a few minutes ago. "I know Cho broke your heart—"

Harry looked away just then, but she reached over and wrapped her fingers around his chin, directing his gaze back to her once more. "I know you were hurt by her," she continued, "that’s why I tried so hard to keep from doing the same thing. But I failed. I ended up hurting you even more." She stopped talking then, as her lower lip was now quivering uncontrollably. He then watched patiently as she began to suck in mounds of air, in an attempt to calm herself down. "I’ve never felt this way about anyone and if you give me another chance, I swear I will make it up to you."

Harry glanced away as all the events of the past couple of months swarmed into his mind at that time. He thought of the happy times spent with her, and the way she was able to take his mind off of Voldemort and the future attacks the Dark Lord could be planning. She had been affectionate, comforting him like no other – even better than Cho. But those times were soon eclipsed by all of her lies and mind games, which drove in like a thundering black cloud, consuming all of his thoughts. She did love him, he admitted to himself; no one had shown more concern over his well being, other than Sirius and occasionally Ron. But she was also the one who had inflicted that pain he was now feeling, the one who had forever altered his relationship with Ron.

He then gently pulled away from her touch. He looked down into her eyes, wanting to say his peace in the right manner, instead of just walking away. He parted his lips, but the words wouldn’t escape his mouth. He wanted so much to just say what was in his heart, but it was a lot harder than he had imagined. While he was on that bathroom floor, breathing heavily as the pain in his hand jetted throughout his body, he had the anger and gumption to tell her exactly what he thought of her. He played out in his head, as he walked to the hospital wing, all the nasty things he wanted to yell into her face. But that anger was long gone, and he was now left with sadness.

"I love you," he began. "You know I do. When I was with you I felt like all my problems disappeared. But now things have changed." He lowered his head and stared at the ground for a moment, steadying his aroused nerves. The hand he had now placed on her shoulder was shaking. He glanced at her once more. "I don’t want to continue seeing you anymore. And I don’t know if I want to be around you for that matter."

Hermione’s eyes immediately began to widen. "What?"

"I just don’t think I can handle hanging around you like nothing’s happened. I would like it if you kept your distance from me for a while. I just need my space a the moment."

She began to sniffle as the tears poured down her face. He wanted so much to tell her he didn’t mean those things and stop her pain, but he couldn’t. He held her tightly in his arms, giving her one last hug before he had to leave. He bent his head and placed a kiss on her forehead. He then pulled away, which was a difficult task since she was still clinging to him. And without looking at her face, he turned around and made his way to Hogsmeade. A great desire to glance over his shoulder consumed him, but he tried his best not to give in, nor let the sounds of her crying persuade him to do so.

~*~*~

A thunderstorm rolled in that night, as a flash of lightning rang through the sky, illuminating the castle below with a bright silver glow for a split second. Hogwarts was quiet then, as most of the residences had already retired to their beds, except for Filch and the few students who risked getting caught as they sneaked into the Astronomy Tower with their partners for a late night romantic tryst.

Everyone in the seventh year Gryffindor girls’ dorm was asleep, except one. The curtains pulled around her, Hermione sat on her bed, her head lowered. She had been in that position for hours now, having forgone her dinner to be alone. She raised her head then, and rubbed her eyes, which were now puffy and red. Although her body yearned for sleep, she stayed awake, her thoughts keeping her from closing her eyes. That special night with Harry, which she had been dreaming all day about, was not to be. Instead of lying on that hotel bed, as Harry’s large and expert hands run up and down her naked body, spreading oil on her smooth skin, she was all alone.

Harry was right, she thought, she had completely ruined their little group’s friendship. She had seen Ron as he made his way to dinner when she headed back to the castle, and the look he gave her haunted her still. The expression in his eyes as he stared back at her told her their relationship with one another would be forever changed.

She dropped back onto the bed, her eyes squeezing shut as she asked herself over and over why she had to get involved with her two best friends. The two young men, who were usually at her side, providing her with companionship, will from this point on be avoiding her in the halls. She reached her hands to her head, rubbing her temples, and hoping that with time, the three of them will somehow be able to rebuild the strong bond they once shared.

Miles away in Hogsmeade, Harry tossed and turned on that large hotel bed, muttering to himself as he slept. The dream was erotic to say the least, as the woman’s hands roamed his body. A slight smile spread on his lips as her hair fanned across his face. He reached out his hands to her, his fingers running along the silky material of her gown until they reached her hips. He pulled her against his body and stared up into her brown eyes. His fingers made their way to her face, trying to feel that smooth skin, but came into contact with nothing.

Harry’s eyes snapped open and he found himself staring into the dark room. He rolled over and stared at the empty pillow next to him. He had assumed his night would be better now that he had broken off his relationship with her, but he was wrong. Every time he closed his eyes, he dreamt and thought of nothing else but her. He closed his eyes, telling himself that things will get better as the days went on, and that he will eventually push her out of his mind....he hoped.

The end.