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 04

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:
10/21/2001
Hits:
4,588

Dedication: This chapter is for Medea, who drew me an incredible picture of Harry and Hermione by the fire in Chapter 2; and for Ebony, who’s said some incredibly nice things about my story to others. Thank you.



* * * * *


Thursday, July 31, 2008.

 

Hermione hummed as she took the ingredients she needed out of the fridge. Silently padding across the room, she heated the frypan up, and proceeded to make Harry’s favourite breakfast of a cheese and tomato omelette. Today was Harry’s 28th birthday, and Hermione had set her alarm to get up early so she could prepare breakfast for him.

As she waited for the omelette to set, her mind drifted over the events of the last few months. The fallout from the public bust up from April was as bad as Harry had expected it to be. Plastered all over The Daily Prophet the next morning had been a scoop by Rita Skeeter, followed up with an exclusive interview with April in the following Monday’s edition of Witch Weekly. It wasn’t long before the howlers had flooded in for both of them, but Hermione had copped the brunt of the public anger, having been branded by Rita as "the other woman".

Although she’d done her best to reassure Harry she wasn’t bothered by the turn of events, it had still played heavily on his mind, and she’d found him on more than one occasion moping about the house. He wasn’t so much worried about his reputation as he had been about hers, and he’d been present when many of the howlers had arrived. Some of them had even arrived with bubotuber pus inside, which had brought back mixed memories of their time at Hogwarts.

Hermione had managed to keep a low profile, but it hadn’t helped that their first public appearance was one they’d already committed to be together for. Hermione had been asked to present at a charity dinner to help raise funds for those families who'd lost loved ones to Jobin’s disease, and she’d asked Harry to go along as her date months before the April incident. It was too late for her to back out, but she’d given Harry the option of pulling out, with the intention of asking Ron to fill in. However, Harry had quietly refused and had gone through with his commitment to her.

The first hour or so before the dinner had begun was awkward. Hermione had received many glares from the patrons there, but had been comforted by the fact that Harry had not strayed from her side, instead lacing his fingers through hers and ignoring the sniggers from people as they’d walked past them.

But eventually, as all gossip does, the story died down, and they were able to get back to their lives with minimal fuss. As Hermione placed the omelette under the grill and made the toast, she realised how much she’d come to rely on Harry’s support, and was glad that they’d been able to weather the storm together. However, they’d spoken no more of the events that, if she was completely honest with herself, still played on her mind.

Hermione pushed all thoughts aside as she served their breakfast up. Placing his present on the side of the tray, she waved her wand over it. "Wingardium Leviosa." It rose into the air, trailing behind her as she made her way upstairs.



* * * * *


Hermione opened the door and walked in to find Harry had just woken. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, he propped himself up and grabbed his glasses, sliding them on and looking at his best friend properly. Hermione’s heart skipped a beat when she saw he was clad only in pyjama bottoms. As he studied her, she wished she’d thought to put a robe on; she wore only a singlet top and shorts that left little to the imagination. She couldn’t help but wonder what Harry’s imagination was conjuring up at that moment.

"Good morning." He broke the silence and greeted her with a smile as she carefully placed the tray over his legs.

"Good morning. Happy Birthday!" She straightened up and placed a quick kiss on his forehead, then moved around to the other side of his bed and hopped on, pushing pillows up to support her as she sat next to him and stretched her legs out. She grabbed her plate off the tray and proceeded to slice her eggs and bacon up.

"Should I eat or open the present first?"

Hermione turned and smiled. "Eat first, it’ll get cold. I made your favourite."

"I noticed." Harry smiled back, and they proceeded to eat in relative silence. It didn’t take them long to polish off breakfast. Once they had, Harry grabbed his wand and moved the tray onto the floor out of the way. He got out from under the covers and sat on the bed, turning to face Hermione who, by this time, had already shifted on the bed, legs crossed underneath her. He did the same as he picked up the present.

Harry carefully unwrapped it, and Hermione watched his face anxiously as he lifted the black leather album with solid gold trim out of the box. She’d spent many months doing the research and obtaining the documents, then putting the actual album together. Now, she was going to see his reaction, and she was more a little nervous.

Harry opened the first page and was surprised to find his name on it in an elegant script:

Harry James Potter

As he flipped the page over, his mouth fell open. His fingers wandered over the gold trimmed pages as he turned them, finding documents and certificates. Hermione had researched his family tree, and had obtained birth, death and marriage certificates for both the Potter and Evans families for generations. Even a cursory glance told him that this would have taken her many, many hours to put together. Harry was floored - this was by far the best present he’d ever received. He was speechless.

"Wow, Hermione," he breathed.

"I thought you might like it to show your children one day," Hermione said softly. "Do you like it?"

Harry looked up at her, still unable to believe what he was holding. "Do I like it?" he echoed. "This is the best present I’ve ever received, Hermione. Thank you." The anxiety in Hermione’s face ebbed away at his statement, and her whole face lit up like a Christmas Tree.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," she said brightly, reaching out and placing her hand on his cheek. The mood instantly changed as they stared at each other for the longest moment. Hermione felt a sudden wave of emotion swell up inside of her, one that had initially flared the night of Kellie’s party. As she looked into Harry’s eyes, she could see the indecision … and something else.

Harry slowly put the album aside and leaned forward on his knees, placing his hands on either side of her on the bed to support himself. She unconsciously licked her lips in anticipation of what she knew was coming, and the sight of her tongue sliding over them almost pushed Harry to a dangerous place - one he wasn’t ready to be at.

But he couldn’t help himself; her lips were so soft and sweet, and her kisses made him all warm inside. Hermione tilted her head up slightly, shutting her eyes as he inched closer. He gently but firmly pressed his lips against hers, and an involuntary moan escaped from her throat. But before she could even begin to enjoy the kiss, he pulled away.

Hermione dropped her hand immediately, confused. "Thank you," he whispered. Without saying another word, he got up off the bed and headed for the bathroom.

Hermione sat in a daze until she heard the water running, then snapped back to reality, sliding off the bed. She picked the tray up off the floor and headed to the kitchen - but not before casting a glance at the closed bathroom door.

Harry’s mind was a whirl as he stepped into the shower. Dammit. He shouldn’t have kissed her again. But he couldn’t have stopped himself doing it any more than he could have stopped time. When he’d slid his glasses on, and she was standing over him in those shorts ... and that top … sighing, he pushed Hermione to the back of his mind and turned the cold water up.



* * * * *


Friday, August 1st, 2008

Kellie Weasley smiled as she slipped the dress over her head and turned sideways. The image reflected back in the mirror showed the growing bump in her stomach. She was now 20 weeks pregnant, and enjoying her pregnancy very much. She’d had a bit of morning sickness in the first couple of months, but besides enduring 3 a.m. cravings for Macaroni and Cheese (which she’d begged Ron to Apparate over to the States for on more than one occasion - so much so that on his last trip, he’d come back with twenty packets), her pregnancy was progressing nicely. The ultrasound she’d had on the previous Monday showed everything was normal, and their baby was growing healthily. When they’d arrived home from the doctor’s, Ron had tucked the small photo of the baby they’d been given in his wallet, which had made Kellie smile.

As she ran her hand over her stomach, the baby kicked. Kellie grinned in delight, walking out of the bedroom to find Ron. She found him standing outside on the verandah, a warm breeze blowing as the sun set. Kellie sidled up next to him, placing an arm around his waist. Ron turned and smiled, leaning over to gently kiss her.

"The baby’s kicking again," she said, taking his hand and laying it flat over her stomach. They both waited silently for a moment, and were rewarded when a small foot stretched the skin of Kellie’s stomach. Kellie laughed at the look on Ron’s face. She loved the small moments like this that they shared. Ron was enjoying her pregnancy as much as she was (the 3 a.m. trips to the U.S. notwithstanding), and he was being a loyal and attentive husband, ensuring that she didn’t have to so much as lift a finger around the house, and only had minimal duties at the shop.

However, even past the grin on his face, Kellie could see that something was troubling Ron. Keeping a hold of his hand, she looked at him.

"Is something wrong, love?"

Ron looked back for a moment, then turned and stared into the forest that surrounded their backyard. He wondered if he was perhaps imagining it, and he felt stupid bringing it up, especially if he was wrong. But he couldn’t help but wonder…

"Do you think something’s going on with Harry and Hermione?"

Kellie frowned. "Going on? In what way?"

Ron turned back to his wife, and the gentleness she exuded instantly calmed him, like it always did. "I don’t know. Don’t you think they were acting a bit weird around each other last night?"

Kellie thought for a moment. They’d gone over after work to give Harry his present, and when Draco and Ginny had arrived half an hour later, they’d all ended up staying for dinner. She cast her mind back. "Well," she said carefully. "I did notice a bit of tension. But I didn’t think anything more of it, really." She paused, waiting to see if Ron was going to explain. When it didn’t look like he was, she reached up and softly ran a hand through his hair. "Why, do you think there’s something more?"

Ron didn’t answer immediately. "Maybe I’m reading too much into it," he finally volunteered. "But it seemed to me like they wanted nothing more than to be all over each other. They were staring at each other all night. And not in merely a best friendly way."

"Oh." Kellie could sense she had to tread carefully here. To say that she was surprised by Ron’s train of thought was an understatement in the least. She’d never given a great deal of thought to Harry and Hermione being together in a romantic sense, although it didn’t really bother her. She’d secretly wondered why they’d never become involved before; to someone who’d observed from the outside, they were perfectly suited. Hermione gave Harry the unconditional love he’d so badly craved growing up, and Harry provided Hermione with the constant support she needed to find confidence in her work - and her life.

However, the thought of any romantic entanglement between his two best friends obviously bothered Ron. She could tell by the way he wouldn’t come out and directly say what was on his mind.

Kellie decided to take the plunge and just come out and ask. "Would it bother you if there was something romantic between them, sweetie?"

Ron pursed his lips, turning back to once again look out into the forest. "I don’t know. It’s just … strange. I’d never considered, after all this time, that there would be anything between them." He hesitated, then decided to tell his wife what bothered him more than anything else. "But what I really hate ... is the fact that they haven’t confided in me."

Kellie placed her hand on her husband’s cheek and turned his face so she could look into his eyes. "Ron, you don’t know that there is anything to confide. If there is something happening between them, I very much doubt they’ve considered it yet, or even acknowledged it. If it bothers you so much, why don’t you ask Harry? I’m sure he’d tell you anything."

Ron let out a deep breath. "It’s not really any of my business, Kel. I can’t just come out and ask my best friend if he’s sleeping with my other best friend."

Kellie tried hard to conceal a smile. "Oh, Ron, there’s no way it’s gotten that far yet. I think that if they really were in love, they wouldn’t be able to hide it. From anyone. And surely they’d tell you. They’ve never hidden anything from you before - why would they start now?"

Ron considered this, and realised Kellie was correct. This was another thing he adored about his wife - she was always the voice of reason when he needed to hear it most. He looked into her cinnamon eyes, saw the smile behind them, and leaned in to kiss her.

"I love you," he whispered. Kellie smiled and placed her arms around his neck, pulling him back for another kiss. When they finally came up for air, Kellie laid her head on Ron’s shoulder.

"I love you too, sweetie." They stood together silently, before heading back into the house to finish getting ready.



* * * * *


Ginny turned around as the shower door opened and Draco stepped in. He switched on the water to the second shower head installed in the cubicle that ran the length of the wall. This has been the cincher in them buying the unit - the previous owner had installed two shower heads, one on each side of the wall. Draco and Ginny loved the feature, and used it often.

Draco leaned over to kiss Ginny, then closed his eyes as he stepped directly under the nozzle, the steady stream of water instantly wetting his hair. Pushing it back off his face, he watched as Ginny lathered her hands up and ran them over her body.

"Need a hand?" he asked, casting his gaze slowly up and down her body. Ginny laughed and stepped forward, placing her hand on his chest and brushing her lips lightly against his before stepping back under the water.

"No. I can wash myself."

"Yes, but it’s much more fun when you let me do it." He pretended to pout, making Ginny giggle. She held the soap out without comment, and he grabbed it, taking more time than necessary to lather his hands. Ginny tucked a piece of hair back behind her ear. She’d pinned her hair up, but every now and then a piece would worm its way out of the loose bun it was pulled into.

"Any time you’re ready." she said, raising an eyebrow. A smirk appeared on Draco’s face, and he held his arms out.

"Come here," he drawled, and she immediately stepped forward into his embrace. He placed his soapy hands on her back as his mouth covered hers in a bruising kiss. He was content to simply hold her for a few moments; but as she kissed him back with equal fervour, he began to move his hands up and down her back, which made her moan with pleasure.

There was nothing Ginny loved more than the feel of Draco’s hands on her body. He was so gentle, and his skin moving against hers caused a ripple of excitement to course through her. She stepped closer, pressing the entire length of her body against his, causing an instant reaction from him.

Ginny grinned against his mouth. "Is that a wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" She moved a hand due south until it reached its target. "Oh. No pockets," she said in mock surprise. "So you are happy to see me," she purred, laughing as Draco scowled.

"Shut up," he murmured. "You think you’re really clever, don’t you?" Ginny nodded, then tightened her grip gently. Draco groaned and backed her up against the wall, once again sealing his mouth over hers.



* * * * *


Although they’d had dinner the previous evening to celebrate Harry’s birthday, it had been so long since the six of them had been out anywhere, they decided to make a night of it. Which was how the group found themselves driving into London at 8 p.m. that night.

They took separate cars to the pub, Kellie and Hermione being the designated drivers for the evening. Kellie had stopped drinking as soon as she found out she was pregnant, and after the previous morning’s events, Hermione felt she needed to keep a clear head around Harry, so she volunteered to drive the other car. Although they could have Apparated, they’d decided to drive. The first and only time Kellie had Apparated since becoming pregnant had made her violently sick, so she’d refrained from it since. So as not to leave her out, whenever they were together, none of them Apparated.

The men travelled in Harry’s car with the birthday boy driving, and the women followed in Ron and Kellie’s station wagon. It was only a fifteen minute drive to the pub they chose to frequent regularly.

The Snitch and Bludger was a popular wizarding pub, hidden safely from Muggles with the Occultus charm. It was also one of the very few places where they weren’t bothered for who they were. Since the boys had discovered it on a pub crawl one night six years previously, they’d become friendly with the owner of the pub; he went to great lengths to ensure they were treated no differently than any of the other patrons.

They made their way through the pub to find their favourite booth empty. It had a round table, which ensured they were all able to fit around it comfortably without having to sit on each other’s laps. Not that the thought bothered Ginny greatly; she almost always ended up on Draco’s lap anyway. Kellie sat down and slid around to the middle. Ron automatically pulled the table out slightly to ensure that she was comfortable, and she smiled thankfully as he slid in next to her, placing an arm around her shoulders. Hermione took a seat next to Ron, and Ginny plonked herself on Kellie’s left.

"We’ll get the drinks then, shall we?" Harry said, glancing at Draco. After everyone placed their orders, the two men disappeared up to the bar. A pair of chocolate brown eyes followed their progress, causing Ron to nudge Kellie gently. They both watched Hermione, Kellie with an amused grin, Ron with a blank face. Ginny noticed a whole lot of watching happening, but didn’t know why.

"Is this a private game, or can anyone join in?" she drawled.

Ron turned his head to look at his sister. "Huh?"

"What are we watching then?"

Ron shook his head. "Nothing," he answered. Ginny raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. Ron scowled. "You’ve been hanging around Malfoy too long," he muttered.

Ginny laughed at the expression on her brother’s face. "If you haven’t figured out by now he’s not going anywhere, Ronald, then you never will." She wiggled her eyebrows at him, and he picked up a peanut out of the bowl on the table and threw it at her. She laughed once more, ducking, while Kellie slapped his arm impatiently.

"For goodness sake, Ron, grow up!" she said with an exasperated sigh. Ron chuckled and leaned over to kiss the side of her head.

"Hey," Draco said as he and Harry arrived back at the table with the drinks. Draco handed Ginny her wine and Kellie her pumpkin juice, while Harry doled out Ron’s beer and Hermione’s coke. "No snogging at the table, Weasley." Draco slid into the booth next to Ginny, then preceded to capture her mouth in a slow, hot kiss that made Ron gag.

"Yuck. Some of us are trying to drink here!" he protested. Draco waved a hand at him, and continued kissing Ginny until he could no longer ignore the various items that were hitting the side of his head in a steady stream. When Ron ran out of peanuts and resorted to ice cubes, he eventually pulled away, making a big display of sucking on her bottom lip as he moved back. Ginny collapsed in a fit of laughter, and Ron looked around desperately for something else to throw.

"I don’t supposed anyone has a blunt instrument handy, do they?" he asked hopefully. The whole table smiled, and eased into the familiar conversation that always happened when they got together. Various jobs were discussed; Ginny talked about the trip to Santorini that she and Draco had ended up extending another week; and the conversation flittered in and out of baby talk.

Hermione joined in where she could, but was unable to keep from being distracted by the fact that Harry was sitting right next to her, close enough that she could smell his aftershave ... feel the warmth radiating off his body. And when he reached across her to grab some peanuts out of the recently refilled bowl, his arm brushed up against hers, and she felt like a Filibuster Firework had gone off in her stomach. After half an hour, she couldn’t stand it anymore.

‘Okay, this round’s my shout," she said brightly. "Same again, everyone?" Harry stood up to let her out, and Hermione murmured her thanks, quickly getting swallowed up by the ever growing crowd.



* * * * *


Harry sank back down into the booth, his mind all over the place. Hermione had not stopped fidgeting all night, and every time she’d inadvertantly brushed up against him, he wanted nothing more than to grab her and kiss her. Hard. He tried to listen to the conversation that continued, but found his attention drifting time and again back to the bar.

"Uh oh." Ginny’s voice brought him out of his reverie. He turned to look at her. She was staring at the bar, pointing. "Isn’t that April?" They all followed her direction to find she was correct. Perched on a stool only three seats away from where Hermione currently stood, April Richardson sat sipping a cocktail out of a pineapple. Hermione seemed oblivious to her presence. April’s attention, however, was focused solely on the brunette. Suddenly, she opened her mouth, and Harry saw Hermione stiffen, before slowly turning in April’s direction. Before anyone could utter a word, he got up and strode towards the bar.



* * * * *


As she reached the bar, Hermione took a few deep breaths, glad to just be alone for a minute. As she waited for the bartender, she glanced around, observing the other patrons.

"Hello, Hermione." Hermione froze. She’d know that voice anywhere. Slowly turning her head towards the direction of the voice, she found none other than the woman responsible for making hers and Harry’s lives hell for the last two months sitting three seats down. Hermione tried to stay calm.

"Hello, April." She gritted her teeth and prayed that the bartender would hurry and serve her. She tried desperately to catch his attention without success, and pointedly ignored April, hoping she’d take the hint and go away.

"How’s Harry doing?"

Hermione took a deep breath. Obviously, April wasn’t good at getting hints. "He’s doing just fine."

"It must have been very satisfying to have him dump me for you. I hope you’re happy with yourself." April’s voice dripped with venom, and Hermione finally turned to look at her properly.

"He didn’t dump you for me. That was a lie, and still is. We’re not dating, regardless of what you think."

"Maybe not yet. I might be blonde, but I’m not stupid, Hermione. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. The way you look at each other." She picked up the straw out of the Fluffy Duck in front of her, licking the cream off it. "There’s nothing you’d like more than for him to throw you down and shag your brains out, is there?"

A quiet rage swept over Hermione, and it took all the self control she had not to deck her. "It’s none of your damned business what Harry and I do." she said in a cool voice which belied how she really felt. Her heart was thumping madly, and she felt the lack of oxygen rapidly affecting her brain.

She closed her eyes, only for them to fly open again as a strong pair of arms encircled her from behind. His scent gave his identity away immediately. "Harry," she murmured gratefully. He tightened his grip around her waist, and as she turned to look at him, he leaned in and kissed her gently. Hermione knew this was for April’s benefit only, but she didn’t care.

"I thought you might need a hand with the drinks," he said, smiling at her before kissing her forehead. Hermione glanced in April’s direction, and the look she was greeted with made her shiver. If looks could kill, Hermione would most certainly have been dead.

Finally, the bartender appeared, and Hermione managed to give the drinks order. Between the feel of Harry’s arms around her, and the daggers she was receiving from April, Hermione was sure she was going to faint. The bartender came back with the drinks and Harry paid for them, lifting the tray easily with one hand, and weaving the fingers of the other through Hermione’s. He led her away without so much as a glance at April, even though they all knew he had to have seen her.

Harry didn’t let go of her hand as they got back to the table, and she managed to sit before she fell down.

"Hermione, what happened? Are you okay? You look awful!" Ron’s barrage of questions went in one ear and out the other. Hermione’s mind was spinning. April’s words were repeating over and over in her head. She’d not been prepared to run into her like that, and April’s mere presence had unsettled her greatly. All of a sudden, everything that had happened over the last couple of months overwhelmed Hermione, and she started to feel like she was going to throw up. She tightened her grip on Harry’s hand, hard enough to make him look at her. He immediately leaned over until their faces were almost touching.

"Are you okay?" he whispered

Hermione shook her head as the tears welled up. "I need to get out of here."

Harry nodded, and turned back to everyone else, who were all staring at Hermione with varying degrees of shock on their faces. Even Draco looked worried.

"I’m taking her home. You guys okay to get home?"

Ron nodded. "We’ll be fine. Just look after her."

Harry gently pushed Hermione out of the booth, and she barely acknowledged the fact they were moving until they were outside and the cold night air hit her in the face. She began to shake uncontrollably as they reached the car, and Harry wrapped his arms around her tightly. The shaking was as much from the shock as it was from the cold. Hermione stifled a sob as she buried her face on Harry’s shoulder. She suddenly felt like her whole world was falling apart, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Harry was more worried than he cared to admit. It wasn’t like Hermione to just break down like this. Hermione was always very good at hiding her feelings from others, instead preferring to bottle them up inside and deal with them by burying her nose in the nearest book. So that she stood there in his arms, trying desperately not to cry, meant she was in a bad state. He had to get her home, get her to somewhere familiar, where she felt comfortable, and could relax. They often both said that their home was the only place they ever felt really comfortable in - their own impenetrable fortress.

Harry managed to open the door and bundle the now weeping Hermione in the car, then gently shut the door after making sure she was all the way in. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, he cursed the day he’d ever met April Richardson.



* * * * *


They arrived home fifteen minutes later. Hermione had stopped crying by now, and had replaced the tears with a totally blank look. She was unresponsive as he led her into the house after locking the car in the garage. He led her into the kitchen.

"Do you want some coffee?" he asked gently, leaning his head against hers. Hermione didn’t answer for a long moment, then seemed to snap right out of her unresponsive state.

"No," she answered, her voice wavering. "I think I need a shower and some sleep. Thanks for bringing me home." She looked into the emerald green eyes that were focused intently on hers, and saw the worry there.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" His voice was quiet, the rich timbre sending a small shiver down her spine.

"Yes. I’ll be fine. I’m just tired, and I overreacted. I’m sorry." She squeezed his hand gently. "After a good night’s sleep, I’ll be fine." She tried to smile, to show him she was okay, but all she could manage was the faint outline of a smile.

She let go of his hand, and started to move away, but Harry grabbed her arm and pulled her back. Placing his hands on her face, he leaned over and kissed her forehead, while running his thumbs gently across her cheeks. This simple gesture made Hermione want to burst into tears again.

"You have nothing to apologise for," he said softly. He eventually released her, and she turned on her heel and walked upstairs, her mind still reeling and her skin burning where he’d touched her.



* * * * *


Hermione turned up the hot water as high as she could stand, allowing the water to massage her neck and face. As she stood there, everything came flooding back: the newspaper reports. The howlers. The stares and sniggers she’d had to endure. The scene with April in the pub. Harry ... and the realisation that she now resigned herself to ... the realisation that she’d fallen in love with him.

She no longer tried to stench the flow of tears, and they trickled freely down her face, intermingling with the water. The scene with April had been the icing on the cake. She’d very carefully hidden any negative feelings about her damaged reputation from Harry, knowing that he was already upset about it. But Hermione was afraid. She’d worked so hard to prove herself in a world where she already had one strike against her. She’d gained the respect of her peers, and the community in general. Now, she was back to being 14 again…dealing with Rita Skeeter’s slanderous headlines about being in a love triangle with Harry. And to rub salt in the wound, it wasn’t even true.

But she wanted it to be. So desperately she ached. She wanted him to hold her in his arms, and kiss her so hard she couldn’t breathe. She wanted to drown herself in his brilliant emerald eyes, and tangle her hands through his messy raven hair. She wanted to tease him until he lost control. She wanted … she just wanted him to love her the way she knew she loved him.

Although he’d initiated all their kisses, Hermione had serious doubts that Harry did feel the same way. And as that single thought repeated over and over in her head, she burst into loud, noisy sobs, finally letting all the hurt and anger and sadness that she’d been bottling up for weeks out.



* * * * *


Harry stood outside the bathroom door, listening as Hermione cried in the shower. The sound of her sobbing broke his heart. He was the one responsible for her hurt. Once again, he’d dragged her into his complicated life through no fault of her own, and not once had she complained. She just accepted it, and dealt with it in her own way.

God, he loved her. He couldn’t imagine his life without her by his side. Where she’d always been, for seventeen years. She’d saved his sanity on more than one occasion. She’d nursed him when he was sick. Done favours for him whenever he’d asked. Spoken out in his defense when she’d felt it necessary.

And when he’d kissed her … sparks flared up inside him that he hadn’t known existed. He’d never felt the way he had kissing Hermione with anybody else. It was like she invaded his senses, and turned them upside down so he couldn’t even think straight. Whenever she touched him, his skin felt like it was on fire. Her lips were so sweet and soft, and he just wanted to bury his face in her hair, holding her tightly against him, never letting her go.

And as he listened to her crying, he finally figured out what it all meant. He’d fallen in love with her. The realisation left Harry a bit numb. When had this happened? Why hadn’t he realised it before?

But a more burning question danced through his mind. Did Hermione feel the same way? Sure, he’d been the one to kiss her, but she’d always responded.

He had to know. One way or the other. Because he couldn’t keep this pretence up - it was driving him mad.

Hermione shut the water off, and Harry quietly retreated to his room. As he undressed for bed, he vowed to talk to her tomorrow. He promised himself he’d tell her how he felt about her. And prayed that she felt the same way.


As always, my thanks go to Kellie for the incredibly speedy beta. Occultusis Latin for ‘hidden’. Also, a big thank you to everyone who’s reviewed my story thus far – you know who you are.