Rating:
R
House:
Schnoogle
Genres:
Romance Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban
Stats:
Published: 09/10/2001
Updated: 03/23/2003
Words: 119,065
Chapters: 13
Hits: 88,988

Love is a Battlefield

Lissanne

Story Summary:
Set eleven years after they leave Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione find themselves in a situation they never anticipated - they've fallen in love. Add a nasty ex-girlfriend, Ron and his wife, Ginny and Draco and Hermione's mysterious boss to the mix and see whether they can make it work as lovers - or whether their secrets will tear them apart forever.

Chapter 02

Chapter Summary:
Set 11 years after graduation from Hogwarts, the Dream Team are now adults. Catch up with Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Draco and all your favourites as they deal with life, love, work, marriage, divorce, babies and kidnapping. Harry/Hermione and Draco/Ginny romantic subplots.
Posted:
09/10/2001
Hits:
4,732
Author's Note:
A big thank you goes to my best friend and beta, Kellie, for her endless patience and support.

Saturday, May 31st, 2008

Hermione checked the clock in her room to find that it was almost 5.30pm. The guests were due to arrive in the next half hour; Ron would be bringing Kellie around at 7pm. All those involved in organising the surprise party for Kellie had agreed this was more than enough time to ensure that the party would not be ruined by latecomers.

Hermione smiled as she thought of the layout downstairs. Kellie was one of her dearest girlfriends, and she deserved a huge party to celebrate her 30th birthday, a special occasion that had occurred three days previously. Kellie was the first one of the close circle of friends to hit 30, and they were determined to celebrate it heartily. Ginny had gone into organiser mode, obtaining the flowers, decorations, caterers and cake. Harry had immediately offered the backyard as a suitable venue; a large marquee had been set up out the back.

Hermione was fully dressed and made up; only her hair remained to be considered. Standing in front of the wrought iron full length mirror in the corner of her room, she was trying to decide whether to wear it up or down. Moving it accordingly several times, she frowned. Her hair was long and straight; she’d long given up trying to remove the bushiness, and had resorted to charming it to stay straight. When she’d first done it several years ago, she was surprised by the number of comments she’d received that it made her look more mature.

Hermione wasn’t one to really give her appearance much thought; she knew she wasn’t beautiful by any stretch of the imagination, but also knew she was considered naturally pretty. Harry and Ron were generally the first ones to remind her of this; Kellie and Ginny weren’t far behind. She’d even overheard Draco once comment approvingly to Ginny about how much she’d changed since she’d been in school. At the time, Hermione hadn’t known whether to be flattered or insulted, but as she’d gotten to know Draco better, she knew it was as big a compliment as she was likely to get from him.

After several minutes of holding her hair up, then letting it fall back down again, she sighed. Still studying her reflection in the mirror, she shook her head and picked up the diamond necklace she’d received as a joint 21st birthday gift from Harry and Ron. Opening the clasp, Hermione brushed her hair aside, and lifted her arms up underneath her hair. She tried several times, but was unable to secure the clasp successfully.

"Dammit," she cursed softly.

"Need some help?"

Hermione turned, startled, to find Harry standing in the doorway of her bedroom. Dressed in a smart green shirt and black pants, he looked as handsome as ever. Hermione thought the green brought his eyes out nicely. "Yes, please. I can’t seem to find the clasp." She watched as Harry walked towards her, studying his reflection in the mirror. "Looking good, Potter," she said, a slight smile curling the corners of her mouth.

Harry grinned. "Likewise, Granger." He crossed the room and took the necklace from Hermione’s outstretched hand, then gestured for her to lift her hair up. She obliged, and he brought the chain around her neck, fastening the clasp with ease. He reached a hand around to centre the diamond so that it was clearly visible, then moved to sit on the bed.

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said, keeping her hair up to look again. Having it up would certainly showcase the necklace nicely, she thought. Maybe she should pin it up. She moved over to her dresser and scrounged around for some clips. Picking a few up, she moved back to stand in front of the mirror.

"What do you think? Up or down?" She looked at Harry in the mirror.

He stared back at her for a few seconds, then smiled. "Down."

Just then, the doorbell rang, and Harry got up. "I’ll get it. It’s probably the cake."

He disappeared out of the room, and Hermione turned back to her reflection. "Down, he says," she muttered to herself.

She released her hair, and let it fall past her shoulders. Picking up her brush, she ran it through a couple of times, then gave herself one last cursory glance, and left the room to help with the last minute preparations.



* * * * *


When Hermione reached the kitchen, she found Harry had been correct - it was the cake. Which also had Ginny and Draco attached to it. Greeting them both with a kiss, she accepted the glass of wine Harry offered her.

"Are we the first to arrive?" Ginny asked, taking a swig of Draco’s beer before handing it back to him.

"Yep," Harry replied, placing the wine back in the fridge and grabbing himself a beer.

He, Ron and Draco had acquired a taste for Muggle beer quite a few years back on an all night pub crawl they’d decided to indulge in to celebrate Draco’s birthday; ever since, on Wednesday nights when the three women got together, the men would gather at Harry and Hermione’s house to drink and chew the fat. Hermione couldn’t remember how many times she’d arrived home to find all three sprawled in the living room, Ron and Draco trading drunken insults.

As she watched Draco and Harry with their beers, Hermione remembered the night she, Kellie and Ginny had decided to sneak over and see what the men were up to, only to walk in on Ron making a rather insulting comment about Draco in leather pants. Draco had retaliated with "It doesn’t matter what you say, Weasley. Leather pants or not, I’m still shagging your sister." Of course, this comment got the desired reaction - Ron attempted to leap on Draco with a drunken roar, but failed miserably when he tripped on the coffee table and fell flat on his face. After the women had wiped away the tears of laughter, Kellie and Ginny had managed to pick up their respective men and Apparate home with them. Hermione had settled for leaving Harry on the lounge where he’d passed out, placing a pillow under his head and draping a blanket over him.

Smiling at the memory, she drifted back to the present, and glanced at Ginny and Draco as she pulled out a chair to sit down. Ginny wore a white halter neck midriff top that showed off more skin that Hermione would be game enough to show, with matching white hipster pants. She’d swept her hair up to the top of her head in a loose ponytail, held up by small white clips in the shape of flowers. Her hair was curled in ringlets, which fell from the top of her head.

Draco stood behind Ginny, leaning against the kitchen counter, with one hand on her stomach. He wore form fitting black pants and a short sleeved black satin shirt, and his hair, which he’d allowed to grow just below his ears, had been slicked back. Ginny had placed her left hand, diamond sparkling on her third finger, over Draco’s while she sipped her wine.

Hermione loved how they were always touching; she privately thought it very romantic, and a sign of their deep love for each other. Even if, most of the time, they were oblivious to the fact that they were actually touching. Hermione knew it just came naturally for them.

Just then, she realised she was being spoken to. "I’m sorry, what did you say?"

"I said," Ginny answered with a smile on her face, "do you want a hand setting up out back?"

Hermione nodded. She hadn’t as yet blown up the balloons to place underneath the marquee roof. "That would be great - there’s not much left to do, but it will be quicker with two of us."

Ginny placed her glass in the sink, then turned to Draco and reached up to kiss him. They kissed for a few moments, and Hermione sighed inwardly. She was beginning to think she’d never find the love she so desperately craved deep down. As happy as she was for Ginny and Draco, and indeed Ron and Kellie, part of her couldn’t help wishing she, too, had someone in her life. But, she considered, at least she wasn’t the only single one in the group. So was Harry.



* * * * *


By 8pm, the party was in full swing. Quite a few people had commented on the decorations. Purple and red balloons (Kellie’s favourite colours) floated at the top of the marquee. Streamers of every colour were wrapped lazily around tree trunks, and the small gazebo at the back of the yard had been brightly decorated, the lights flooding the backyard to ensure that everyone could see when the sun set.

All 100 guests had arrived by the designated time, and Kellie had burst into tears when she’d arrived to see all of her family and friends gathered to celebrate her birthday. Having had a quiet dinner with just Ron, Harry, Hermione, Draco and Ginny on her actual birthday, she’d not expected this. Her mother and sister Aimee had Apparated over from Indiana as a surprise, and Kellie had not wandered far from their side, infinitely pleased to see them.

The twins were in fine form, testing out their latest joke chocolate on unsuspecting victims; the Turtle Toffee did not permit the consumer to move faster than two steps every ten minutes, and the effects lasted half an hour. They’d managed to convince 3 people to eat one before Molly had berated them fiercely ("honestly, you think you two would have grown up by now! And of all the places to do this…show some respect for your sister-in-law!"). Hermione was convinced that Molly was sorely tempted to grab each of them by an ear and drag them home to berate them some more, but she’d shown some restraint and had let them go. Looking suitably chastened, they’d behaved for about 15 minutes, then had moved on to test more new jokes.

Molly had her hands full with her other children, almost having a heart attack when she spotted Ginny ("Virginia! What on earth are you wearing? Oh my Lord, you’re going to catch your death in that outfit!"). Arthur had patted Molly’s hand, and led her away towards the buffet ("Dear, I think Ginny’s old enough to decide what she wants to wear").

Hermione, however, soon found she had no time to concentrate on the Weasleys. She somehow managed, to her chagrin, to get herself stuck in a corner of the marquee alone with April.

"Hermione, darling, what a great little shindig you’ve turned out here," April began with a cocktail in one hand and smile plastered on her face.

"Thank you," Hermione answered coolly, looking around desperately to catch someone’s eye. She couldn’t help it; she could never bring herself to be anything but civil towards April. It was like some sort of barrier was thrown up the minute she was in sight; Hermione felt like she had to be constantly on her guard.

"And of course, you look so nice tonight. Very sweet." Hermione glanced down; she was wearing an ankle length floral pink skirt that had a chiffon overlay, and a pastel pink long sleeved knitted top. Hermione found nothing wrong with looking ‘sweet’, but somehow, the tone in which April said it made Hermione bristle.

"Thank you," she repeated, her tone becoming cooler. "So do you," she added as an afterthought. Hermione didn’t really think April looked nice or sweet; she thought she looked like a tramp. Dressed in a short red mini dress with slits up to her waist, it was very inappropriate for the kind of setting they were in.

Obviously worn to turn heads, it hadn’t failed - although Hermione took note of the fact it didn’t turn the one head it should have. After greeting Harry with a passionate kiss in front of everyone (she had been the last guest to arrive, and probably on purpose, as Ginny had pointed out to Hermione with obvious disgust), she’d clung to his hand, refusing to move away from him. When she realised he was determined to play host all night, she’d reluctantly let his hand go, and gave him another kiss that left no one in doubt as to what role she played in his life.

April’s laugh brought Hermione out of her reverie.

"Oh, darling, you’re so amusing," she said, tucking a strand of blonde hair back into the French Roll she’d swept her hair up into. "As if anyone would think I look sweet."

The smile Hermione had forced faded as she examined April intently. April probably never got called sweet; her olive complexion was flawless; her blue eyes the colour of the ocean; and her blonde hair showed no signs of being unnatural (although Kellie had once remarked that she believed it was definitely a dye job). Her figure was perfect, and she was incredibly tall - all the attributes for a top model, which she was. Draco’s female equivalent in the modelling world, in fact, which meant she worked on many shoots with him, much to Ginny’s annoyance.

"But, if you like, perhaps one day we can get together, just the two of us. I’ll give you a make over; perhaps we can get you scrubbed up so you look pretty."

Hermione frowned, the insult obvious. "Of course, not that you don’t look pretty now, but you know what I mean." She waved a hand dismissively, and Hermione had to bite her lip to stop herself from saying something she’d really regret. April showed no signs, however, of an apology. She merely lifted her cocktail up to her mouth for another sip and raised an eyebrow at Hermione.

"April, you don’t mind if I steal Hermione away for a dance, do you?" Hermione jumped slightly and turned to see Ron holding a hand out towards her.

"Of course not, darling, she’s all yours." A smirk appeared on April’s face. "I believe I should run off and see where my man is anyway!" She disappeared into the throng of people as Hermione set down her glass and looked at Ron in relief. He smiled gently at her, and placed her hand in his, leading her to the dance floor that had been set up in the middle of the marquee.

"You looked like you needed saving from the beast," Ron said with a grin as he pulled Hermione into his arms, wrapping both of them lightly around her waist.

"Ron, that’s not a very nice thing to say about Harry’s…April." Hermione chided softly. She couldn’t make herself say the words ‘Harry’s girlfriend’ when talking about April. She just couldn’t. Frowning, she brought her arms up and placed them around Ron’s neck.

Ron snorted. "Yeah, well, *she’s* not nice. I heard what she said to you. For the record, I think you look beautiful." He smiled at Hermione, and she couldn’t help but smile back as they swayed in time to the music.

"Thank you, Ron." Ron nodded, then leaned down to kiss her nose gently. "Ignore April. I don’t know why she insists on being such a fucking bitch, but she’ll realise too late it’s the wrong way to go if she wants to keep Harry."

"Ron," Hermione said. She knew Ron often swore when he was mad, but it didn’t make her feel any better that she was the cause of his anger. She should merely have avoided getting stuck alone with April.

"What?" he replied defensively. "I think if anyone deserves to be cursed about, it’s her. Nobody treats my best friend like that and gets away with it!" His eyes searched April out, and found her fawning all over Harry as he was attempting to talk to Kellie’s mother and sister. "Bitch," he muttered again.

"Hey," Hermione reached up and put her hand on his face, reminding him of who he was with. "Ignore her. Talk to me." She smiled at him. He gave her the famous Weasley grin, and leaned down to kiss her cheek softly.

"Love you, Mione," he said, using the nickname only he and Harry were allowed to use.

"I love you too, Ron," Hermione reached up and stroked his fiery hair soothingly.

"Trying to steal my husband again, Granger?" They both turned to find an amused Kellie standing nearby. "Every time I turn around, he’s kissing you. What's up with that?" Hermione knew by her tone of voice that she was just joking.

The birthday girl was grinning from ear to ear; she’d been unable to stop since her arrival. Dressed in a gorgeous mauve number that was neither clingy nor shapeless, she was elegant in a way that April could never hope to achieve.

"Sorry, just borrowed him for a sec," Hermione answered. "He’s all yours." Hermione stepped out of Ron’s embrace, and grinned at Kellie.

"Oh honey, I was just kidding," Kellie replied, a worried look on her face.

"I know, but I think it’s about time to cut the cake." Hermione pointed to where the caterers were putting the finishing touches on the display that held the delicious chocolate mudcake Ginny had organised, knowing how fond Kellie was of chocolate. Harry hovered over them, then looked over at Kellie and waved her over. Kellie grabbed her husband’s hand and, weaving her fingers through his gently, placed their joint hands behind her back and led the way up to the cake.

As the crowd began to gather round, Hermione pushed her way to the front, finding a space next to Draco and Ginny. Draco greeted her with a wink. Hermione smiled and turned her attention to the guest of honour, who stood standing next to a beaming Ron, their hands still entwined behind her back. Everyone quieted down so Kellie could speak.

"First of all, I’d like to thank you all for coming, especially Mom and Aimee," Kellie began in her soft midwestern drawl. "I’d also like to thank everyone who organised this wonderful surprise…I’m guessing that Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Draco had a little something to do with it." She gave each of them a smile. "I’d also like to thank my amazing husband." She leaned up to kiss him, and the twins wolf whistled her until Molly intervened. Kellie then whispered something in Ron’s ear, and he nodded, his grin widening so much Hermione thought his face would split open.

"Since this seems to be a night for surprises, I have one of my own." This announcement stopped the murmurs in the crowd as all eyes turned towards her.

She cuddled into Ron, and smiled. "We’re going to have a baby."

There was total silence for about two seconds, then the party erupted into a flood of cheers and laughter, as everyone surged forward to congratulate the parents to be.

Hermione held back, not quite able to believe what she’d heard. Two of her dearest friends were having a baby…Ron was going to be a father.

She chose to stay with Draco and Ginny, who’d sensibly decided not to risk getting crushed in the crowd. Molly reached Kellie and wrapped her arms around her, promptly bursting into tears.

"My first grandchild," she sobbed. Kellie hugged her mother-in-law back tightly. After a few moments of patting Molly’s back comfortingly, Kellie let her go, only to be crushed in a Fred&George hug.

"Oh, Ronald," Molly turned to her youngest son. "You’ve made me the happiest mother alive!" Ron laughed and wrapped his arms around his mother.

"Thought you might be pleased, Mum," he said with a grin. After an embrace and a clap on the back from Arthur, and an offering of Turtle Toffee from the twins, followed by a manly embrace of their own, Ron was finally able to breathe.

It took ten minutes before everyone had finished congratulating them and wandered away for more food and dancing, leaving the cake untouched. Finally, there was only Draco, Ginny, Hermione, Harry and April standing with Ron and Kellie.

"Good to see you’re not shooting blanks, Weasley," Draco said with a grin. Ginny elbowed him and stepped forward to hug her brother enthusiastically.

"I’m going to be an aunty! How exciting!" The youngest Weasleys hugged tightly for a few moments as Harry and Draco each congratulated Kellie with a kiss. Hermione followed with a hug of her own for Kellie, then switched places with Ginny, once again finding herself in Ron’s arms.

"Congratulations, Daddy," Hermione beamed at him. Ron grinned back, and kissed her forehead before releasing her, only to be embraced by Harry. However, he froze when April stepped up to him, kissing the air on either side of his cheeks.

"Congrats, darling, how wonderful!" Hermione saw Ron stiffen, then glanced at Harry, who watched his best friend’s reaction closely, his chiseled jaw set grimly.

All of a sudden, she felt badly for him, realising that he knew his girlfriend was not well liked by his friends. Her heart ached; no matter how much she disliked April, she loved Harry, and he was caught in the middle. Hermione made a silent vow to try and get along better with April. She reached out and gently took Harry’s hand in hers; he squeezed it in response, but didn’t smile.

"Thanks, April," Ron recovered enough to pat her lightly on the back. He accepted a handshake from Draco, then smiled at everyone.

"Let’s get a drink to celebrate, eh?"



* * * * *


It was 3am before Harry and Hermione had farewelled the last of the guests and finished tidying up. A few spells later, the backyard was spotless; there were no signs that anyone had been there.

However, by the time they were done, Hermione was wide awake, so she decided to try and do some work on the Jobin project until she felt sleepy. Jumping into the shower, she changed into jeans and a t-shirt, and settled down in front of the dying fire in the lounge room. Although Hermione had her own study upstairs, she felt more comfortable in the formal lounge room of the house.

Purchasing their house was the first thing Harry had done upon leaving Hogwarts; his need to have a home where he felt comfortable was of utmost importance to him. Of course, he couldn’t imagine that home without his two best friends, and they had been more than happy to share it with him. Since Harry very much considered it *their* house, and not just his, he’d insisted they come house hunting with him, and had gotten their approval before buying it. Two stories tall, the ground floor had the lounge room; an elegant, old style room accessible from the foyer inside the front door. The room was large but cozy, with high ceilings and bay windows to the right; a huge fireplace in the middle of the room, and a wall to wall library on the left which Hermione had lovingly built up over the years.

The kitchen and formal dining area occupied the opposite side of the ground floor. Upstairs held the bedrooms, bathrooms and guest rooms - not that Harry or Hermione ever really had many guests to stay. Sirius was the only regular visitor; occasionally, the odd Hogwarts friend popped up, and Hermione had been known to have her small team pull an all nighter every now and then. But Harry and Hermione generally ensured that the house was kept guest free; it was their only place to get away from the glare of the spotlight that being Harry Potter and Hermione Granger thrust them into.

Hermione sighed as she spread out her notes. She had begun the Jobin project just over a month ago, and had little to show for it. She'd encountered some minor setbacks early on; as soon as she'd fixed one problem, another seemed to crop up in its place. Hermione was grateful to have a wonderful team on board, led by her most trusted researcher, Tabitha Jones. Tabitha had joined PGW Industries 18 months ago, and had proven herself to be an intelligent and dedicated witch. Although she was 11 years older than Hermione, the two got along well, sharing the same sense of humour, which always made the day go faster. Hermione didn’t know what she’d do without Tabitha’s assistance.

Turning back to her notes with a sigh, she worked quietly for an hour, going over what the team had found thus far and trying to determine where they were going wrong. It was a slow process - Hermione didn’t expect to have found the cure straight away - but the team’s lack of progress was frustrating.

"Hey," a quiet voice came from the left. Hermione looked up to find Harry walking towards her, a coffee mug in each hand. She noticed that he was still dressed, although he, too, had changed into jeans and a t-shirt. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was 4.15am.

"Hey," Hermione said, accepting a mug with a smile. "What are you still doing awake?"

"Can’t sleep," he replied, sinking onto the lounge. Hermione sipped her drink to find it wasn’t coffee, but hot chocolate. "I could ask you the same question. What are you doing working at this time of the morning?" Harry frowned at her as she got up off the floor and sat down next to him on the couch.

"Can’t sleep," Hermione echoed, smiling at him. She frowned when he didn’t smile back. "Harry, what’s wrong?"

Hermione could tell by the look on his face that something troubled him; she knew him well enough to know that something was wrong without him saying it. Placing her mug down gently on the coffee table, she turned sideways to look at her best friend properly. He kept his gaze averted from her, instead choosing to stare straight ahead.

"Harry?" He slowly turned to look at her, and the look on his face when their eyes met was enough to make Hermione want to burst into tears. Harry looked utterly miserable.

"What’s wrong with me?" he whispered. Hermione’s brow creased, and she gently removed the coffee mug from his grip and placed it on the table next to hers.

"Nothing’s wrong with you, Harry." Hermione felt tears suddenly well up in her eyes, and she shuffled as close to him as she physically could. She reached out, taking his hand in one of hers, and placing the other on his cheek. "Tell me what’s wrong," She stroked his cheek as a sign of reassurance.

"What’s wrong?" Harry’s voice suddenly became harsh. "It seems I can’t do anything right. My friends can’t even make an effort to get along with my girlfriend. Why is that, Hermione? What’s so wrong with her?" Hermione could see the anger in his eyes, but saw the hurt underneath as well.

Hermione kept her hand where it was, and looked straight at him, taking a deep breath. "There’s nothing wrong with her, Harry. We don’t dislike her. She’s just…a hard person to get along with sometimes, that’s all. Besides," Hermione kept her voice gentle. "You don’t need our approval to date her. It’s your choice, Harry. It’s your life."

This, apparently, was the wrong thing to say. Harry pushed her away and stood, moving to stand in front of the fire with his back to her, arms crossed over his chest.

"Yes, it is my choice, yet I can’t count on the people who matter most to me to accept that." His voice was bitter. Hermione hesitated, not sure what to say. She knew that he was right; she also knew she’d been correct about Harry catching Ron’s reaction earlier. Although Hermione still didn’t like April, she owed it to Harry to make an effort for him.

She got up, and moved to stand behind him, gently placing her hands on his back.

She felt him stiffen slightly, but Hermione didn't withdraw her touch; she was determined to ensure that he didn’t push her away, like he often tried to when he was angry or upset.

A huge wave of guilt washed over her. Harry was right. April wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, but they didn’t have to make their disapproval so blatantly obvious. Hermione didn’t realise until that moment just how badly hurt Harry was. She felt a tear threaten to fall down her face; when Harry was hurt, she hurt, too. Knowing that, in part, she contributed to his hurt made it much worse.

"I’m sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered, gently slipping her arms around his waist. She hugged him tightly, resting her cheek against his back.

This gesture comforted Harry somewhat, and he let his anger slowly ebb away. He had no real reason to be angry with Hermione; of all his friends, she was the one who’d tried the hardest. He also got the impression that this was why April liked her the least - and yes, he did know that April didn’t think much of Hermione.

Harry wasn't blind; he’d seen the sly looks April had given Hermione on a few occasions. He’d chosen to ignore it, hoping he was mistaken. But deep down, he knew he wasn’t. And Hermione needed to know how much he appreciated her efforts, and that, no matter what April said or did, she was still the most important woman in his life.

Harry said nothing for a few moments, then gently lifted Hermione's arms out enough for him to turn around. He tilted her chin up to make her look at him, and the sight of the tears shining in her eyes made his chest tighten.

"No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I know she’s never made an effort to get along with you, and I shouldn’t expect you to put up with that." His jaw tightened. "Anyway, I don’t know why I’m so worked up about it. I’m not really serious about her anyway; I was thinking of breaking it off."

Hermione tried to speak, but couldn’t say anything. She knew it was because of their disapproval that Harry was even considering it, and that made her feel more guilty than she could say. She made no attempt to stop the tear that finally rolled down her cheek.

"Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. Please, don’t cry. It’s my fault." Harry pulled her close, and Hermione slid her arms back around his waist. He kept one hand on her back, and ran the other through her hair, pulling out the band that held her hair in a ponytail and gently setting it loose.

Harry ran his fingers through her hair gently, then held her face in his hands and lifted it up so he could look into her eyes. Hermione moved her arms from around his waist, and rested her hands lightly on his hips.

"It’s okay," he repeated gently, leaning forward to kiss her tear away. Without even realising what he was doing, he began to place soft, gentle kisses on her face, starting at her cheek and slowly moving across.

As he neared the corner of her mouth, a distant voice in the back of his head suddenly spoke to him. What are you doing? This is *Hermione*. You can’t kiss her, she’s your best friend. But it was like an unavoidable force; something that night drew him to her, and he couldn’t stop it, even if he wanted to, which, deep down, he would realise later, he didn’t.

Harry’s lips brushed over Hermione’s in the softest of kisses; her heart fluttered. The small part of her brain capable of coherent thought told her this was wrong - Harry was her best friend, and he was seeing someone else. But her heart skipped a beat, and a strange feeling washed over her. One she hadn’t felt for a very long time, and not as deeply as she felt it now.

Harry made no move to deepen the kiss, as if testing the waters for her reaction. Hermione couldn’t help herself; she kissed him back. They stayed that way for the briefest of moments, two friends whose relationship had taken a sudden and unexpected turn; neither wanting to lose the moment, but neither knowing how to react.

Harry finally pulled away just far enough so their lips weren’t touching. He stared at her intently; her eyes were still closed, her lips parted slightly. Her breathing was irregular, and her face was flushed. She finally opened her eyes to see his green ones firmly trained on hers.

"Harry, I…" Hermione wasn’t able to finish her sentence because Harry had captured her mouth with his again. His kiss, however, was different this time. It was hot and demanding. His tongue nudged against her lips, and she could not help but open her mouth to him. He took ruthless advantage of her weakness, and moved his hands down from her face to slide them tightly around her waist, pulling her to him.

Suddenly, Hermione felt like he just wasn’t close enough, and she surrendered to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body up against his. She felt like her entire being was on fire; at that moment, all there was in her world was herself and Harry, and he was kissing her deeply, and she was loving every minute of it.

She barely felt Harry lift her t-shirt up out of the waistband of her jeans; she only realised when she felt his hand on her bare skin. Hermione moaned and tried to move closer, but it seemed every inch of them was already touching.

Then, suddenly, his lips were gone, and he took a step back. Hermione searched his eyes, trying to figure out what had happened.

"We can’t do this," Harry said in a hoarse voice. "I’m sorry." Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. She merely watched as he sidestepped her and practically ran up the stairs to his bedroom.



* * * * *


Coming in Chapter 3…Harry and Hermione try to forget what happened; Sirius makes an appearance, and another possible clue to Jago’s identity.