You Want It, You Got It

Authors Note: ...got one review but will update anyway.

Chapter two

Harry couldn't sleep that night. Ron and him had sat next to Hermione on the couch the whole night, until they finally had the sense to get to their bedrooms at five A.M. But Harry still couldn't go to sleep; his thoughts were running with the events of the night.

He tossed and turned for a half-hour before he realized that he was never going to be able to sleep. He got out of bed, threw a robe on, and went to the kitchen to make coffee for himself.

When Harry got to the kitchen, he found Ron sitting at the breakfast counter, reading the Daily Prophet and sipping coffee.

"Couldn't sleep?" Harry said quietly, not wanting to wake up the peacefully sleeping Hermione. Ron looked up and shook his head. Harry nodded understandingly and sat down on the stool next to him. The coffee was already made, so he took a mug from the cupboard and poured some.

"I'm going to kill Malfoy," Harry muttered for the fourteenth time since last night.

"You've said that many times, Harry. Many, many, many times," Ron sighed. He looked out the window at the sunrise. "What are we going to do?"

"I, for one, am going to write a letter to Malfoy," Harry said matter-of-factly, getting up to look for parchment. Ron, surprisingly, didn't hold him back. He didn't give a rats ass what happened to Malfoy.

Hermione's one-night stand was only between the three. Ron's first instinct was to write a letter to his mother about it, but Harry had squashed that, saying it wasn't a smart idea because you never know what Molly's reaction might be. They might as well wait until Hermione wanted to tell more people.

Harry came back to the breakfast counter, holding a piece of paper and a pen. Hedwig was perched on his shoulder, all ready to go. Harry sat down and began writing furiously.

Draco,

How dare you. You got our Hermione pregnant and ran off. What is she supposed to do when she has this baby? You're a coward. A player, a jackass, a complete coward. If you are not at the birth of this child in nine months, I will personally track you down and do something so you really regret ever talking to Hermione.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

Harry smirked. Perfect. Draco would regret anything, weather or not he would be at the hospital in the nine months when Hermione has her baby. He sealed the letter, placed it into an envelope, and sent it with Hedwig.

A rustling came from the couch, followed by a yawn and then a cough. Hermione was awake. She got up off the couch, yawned again, and stretched. Ron sniffed and turned up his nose. Hermione stunk.

"Herms, you might want to go take a shower or something," Ron told her. She looked over at him and scowled.

"Fine," Hermione whispered. She walked to the bathroom. Harry sighed.

"Ron, that was a bit...rude," he mentioned to Ron, who was now hungrily munching on a bagel. Ron shrugged.

"Nothing rude about the truth," he replied. Harry sighed. Sometimes Ron failed to see Hermione's true beauty.

Hold on...true beauty? Harry all of a sudden felt he should sit down, so he plopped himself on the couch. A few minutes after Harry had been silently sitting on the couch, trying to calm his dizzied head while flipping through early-morning television, Hermione's shower stopped and she shouted for someone.

"Would someone get me a pair of jeans and a shirt from my room? I really don't want to run out into the hallway with only a towel on. Thanks," she said to either one of the boys. She went back into the bathroom and shut the door. Ron just continued chomping down his bagel. Harry shook his head at his best friend and got up to get her clothes for her.

"Here, Herms," he rapped on the bathroom door. She opened it; steam from the shower came flowing out, making her look like an angel, her wet hair and red face glistening. Harry tried hard not to sigh in happiness. She looked beautiful right now.

"Thanks. Harry, thanks. Harry!" Hermione shouted. Harry snapped to reality.

"Sorry. You're welcome," he handed her the clothes and rushed back to the couch. Oh, God. What were these sudden feelings for Hermione? Wait, they didn't just start, Harry thought. I think I've loved her for a long time. Just didn't realize it.

Hold on a second, he thought, I love Hermione. Damnit, too late now. She's pregnant. When she has the kid, she'll probably go off with Draco somewhere.

Harry felt a slight move in the couch cushions.

"Hey Harry..." it was Hermione. Harry snapped out of his thoughts and looked at her; straight into those big brown eyes. Hermione bit her lip, staring into those piercing green ones.

Ron looked over to where his two best friends were, just staring at each other.

"Oi, you two, what's your problem?" he questioned, taking the pen Harry had been using before and chucking it at them. It hit Harry in the back of the head.

"Ouch..." Harry snapped back to reality, rubbing the back of his head. Hermione coughed.

"Um, Harry, I just noticed something," she muttered. Harry turned towards her, avoiding the eyes that had caused to much trouble. "You called me honey last night." Harry man-blushed and mentally slapped himself.

"Yeah, so?"

"Oh, nothing, I was... um... wondering why?" she mumbled, blushing herself. Harry banged his head upon the coffee table.

"Hermione, I love you."