The dorm was quiet, gloriously quiet.
It was usually quiet at night, but the breathing of the other girls was a constant reminder that she was never alone. She usually pulled the curtains each night and set a spell to create a light breeze. It wouldn't last all night, however, and she'd wake up in a hot, stuffy bed, feeling slightly off.
Tonight, though, she was laying down with the cool, crisp air, no noises. Thank Merlin for the holidays.
Just as she was drifting off, she heard the telltale sound of the dormitory door creaking.
She sat up, wondering who had returned to the castle. Had they come back on the train? She craned her neck around Lavender's bed.
She saw a shadowy build that she'd recognize anywhere and the silhouette of a broomstick.
"Harry?" She whispered "What are you doing up here?"
"Hey" he said, in a slightly unusual tone. It was one she had only heard a few times when they were sitting too close in the library or late at night by the fire when Ron had gone to bed. Her heart did a little flip.
"Hi," she said again, more slowly.
"I hope it's ok," he said, "I wanted to talk to you."
This was highly unusual, but that feeling was back. Anticipation had her mind and body frozen. Maybe whatever this was wasn't just all in her head. But, this was Harry, she reminded herself. Lately her imagination and reality about her friend seemed to be running together.
"Not at all," she said, shifting over about a foot. "Can I, uh, take your coat and broomstick?" She was talking louder now, in a slightly silly voice. And before she forgot -- "Silencio" she pointed at the door.
"Good thinking," he said, handing her a silvery object and a long handle. She stood on the other side of the bed briefly and tucked them into her wardrobe.
Harry waited for her, standing as if to sit down in the chair a bed away from hers. She watched him as she rounded the end of the bed and then stood near him.
"Harry, are you ok?" She asked, looking into his eyes. She had a weird feeling in her stomach suddenly. Was that butterflies? Why did Harry look so different to her in the dark, taller, somehow. She hadn't noticed until how how he had filled out.. since, when, exactly? She peeled her eyes away from his form and tried to focus on his face.
He looked a little troubled, but not devastated. "Hermione, I'm fine. I want to talk with you." He seemed distracted and nervous. Her mind was racing. This had to be about Voldemort, he had never, ever come into her dorm. She didn't know it was even possible given the castle's protection regarding boys in girls' dormitories. She half expected the floor itself to rise up against him. But he stood there, shining slightly in the pale moonlight, not quite real at all. Being near him in the midnight hour was having a strange effect. Pull yourself together, Hermione, she scolded. This may be serious.
* * *
An hour earlier
Harry was bored. He couldn't sleep. The holidays were strange without Ron in the dormitory with him. He was the only boy in his year who had stayed behind at school. It was Christmas Eve, so he figured Ron and the rest of his family would be deeply asleep as Romania was several time zones ahead. Charlie was on some sort of hunt with a Vampire and had raved about Bucharest. But Harry wasn't about to travel internationally when Voldemort was at large.
Hermione had opted to stay, her parents having traveled to Australia to visit her mom's cousin. Did it bother her? He couldn't tell. Unbidden into his mind came a picture of her face outside the charms corridor, where the trio had first discussed their holiday plans. She had been looking away out the diamond-paned rain-soaked window with a sliver of a view of a faint sunset between the gray skies and lake. But Harry noticed she looked pretty that day. Had she done something different? He ran over in his mind. Maybe it was just the lighting.
He saw the picture of her face earlier today as they played chess in the twilight and then later on the couch facing the fire as she curled up under a blanket with a book, and he stared into the flames, fidgeting with a rook.
"What are you reading about?" he had asked out of sheer boredom. But also because he was acutely aware that they were alone together. The few younger students who were not leaving for break had gone to bed 20 minutes ago, and when they left, Harry started feeling a strange urgency and pressure.
"Hermione," he cut her off about 20 seconds into her explanation.
"Yes, Harry?" She was wearing a close-fitting maroon top. Her feminine figure was partly hidden by an oversized fleece blanket. And her thick socks slightly adjusted the couch every once in a while. He was having a hard time not staring at her.
"Hermione-- I have to go to bed." He said abruptly.
Harry felt the heat rise in his face, staring up at the fabric of his canopy bed. A small alarm clock clicked dully across the room, a sense of urgency rising as if each tick was closer to an invisible deadline. This time when everyone was gone was somehow different. He couldn't explain it. He almost felt like he was going behind Ron's back, but since when had he ever expressed an interest in Hermione? Never.
Before he could even think, he was on his feet, grabbing his broomstick. This was his one opportunity. She would be asleep soon, and tomorrow this strange spell may be broken. His flash of urgent clarity had tipped him into action. And his mind supplied a fully formed plan in his mind.
* * *
"Hermione-- I--"
She hadn't changed clothes and yet looked different without the blanket obscuring her pajamas and the maroon shirt looking black in the moonlight.
"Need to go to bed?" she asked with a strange half smile. There was a questioning and almost nervous look in her eyes.
"No, clearly, that is not it. Sorry if this takes me a moment."
Hermione sat patiently, gazing away from him to reduce the pressure. She let her eyes fall on the way the moon was filtering through a spidery plant hanging in a window, swaying in a slight draft.
"I think it's nice," Harry started cautiously, and her eyes snapped back to his face. He looked nervous, so nervous. She wanted to take his hand but for some reason she was frozen.
Harry continued, "it's nice that we spent some time yesterday and today. I've had a good time." His voice was low.
She stared into his eyes and realized she was maybe being too intense and looked away. Was this truly happening? The moments and signals she had decided to believe she had imagined, had he felt them too?
"It's been very nice, Harry," she said softly. Is this happening? Her mind was in a suspended state. Not daring to get out ahead of what Harry may say. She leaned forward towards him, her eyes wandering down to his hands. They were resting rigidly beside his muscular legs. This dark night lighting made her friend into a stranger. But no, she had seen this side of him in 3rd year when they had gone back in time and he had stayed close to her the whole night through. This wasn't in fact, that new. Perhaps when Ron was around, somehow it all became masked.
"Well, I'm glad you think that. Hermione, for a long time, I have wondered if there is something else to us."
Hermione went still and quiet, listening intently. She was suddenly very aware that her hands were awkwardly laying on the bed and her thigh.
Harry had looked down at her hand, only about a foot away from his.
"Hermione, we have been friends for 6 years. And I've considered you my best friend. I don't ever want to jeopardize that. But sometimes I wonder if we maybe aren't already jeopardizing it. These last few months, something has been different. Please tell me it's not just me. If it is, I will stop right now."
"It's not, Harry." She could hardly hear her own words, but Harry didn't seem to have any trouble hearing her. Perhaps it was the blood rushing in her ears. Maybe it was Harry on tenterhooks.
"Hermione, will you be my girlfriend?"
She was stunned, and before she opened her mouth properly to respond he cut in again.
"-- Look, I know it's sudden. But we have known each other for so long. And lately, please tell me it's not just me. Have you felt this?"
"Yes, Harry. Yes, and I will be your girlfriend gladly. I am just a little stunned but in the best way. I had convinced myself this was just a silly passing fancy of mine.
"Well, I hope it's not."
"Now I know it's not," she returned, voice still quiet.
He reached out for her hand suddenly, barely brushing her fingers, laying his hand next to hers on the quilt. She felt the warmth of his hands, rougher than she remembered. His hands were not child's hands any longer, and the sense of nervous elation was washing over her in waves as the ridges of his finger pads set tiny vibrations against the back of her hand. Her lips parted and she didn't realize she had let out a soft breath as she turned her hand slowly over in his, relishing the soft friction.
Harry's eyes trained on her, and he looked so unreadable. He squeezed her hand firmly, a strange longing filling his face. A shiver ran down her body.
"I don't know why I felt we had to talk tonight. Thank you, for letting me up. There's something different when Ron isn't here. With just you it's more.."
"Personal?" she offered.
"Very," he said. He looked at her smooth skin, an elegantly proportioned face and longed to stroke his hand along her cheek. Instead, he stood up.
"I'm going to go back to my dorm," he said, awkwardly.
"Ok, Harry, I'll see you in the morning." She rose quietly to join him. He waited until she was standing to collect his broom and cloak. The castle hallways were oh so cold this time of year.
They both felt the question hanging in the air. Should they embrace? Only a month ago, she would have laid her head on his shoulder for hours in front of the fire, reading. Before their fight, she had taken for granted that he was a sort of friendly pillow.
But lately, after they made up, something had shifted. She had assumed the coolness still lingering between them, but then, it felt like more.
And now his shoulders seemed unfamiliar, bigger, more solid. His face was so familiar, and yet his eyes holding that look made her see him entirely like a new man. He was oh so welcoming, but also brand new energy seemed to form a barrier between them, but it was such a magnetic barrier. This was different.
"Thank you, Harry." she said quietly, admiring his bravery for telling her. He looked so relaxed now.
"Goodnight, Hermione," he said quietly, voice filled with some new tone she found absolutely delicious. I want to stay here a long time, she thought. She was so glad Ron was gone. And she was so glad she had this spell over the castle for the next several days.
As she settled back into her bed, she closed her eyes and returned to the memories of months ago. Her casually laying against Harry's side, she replayed over and over again how that felt, imagining Harry now, with this magnetic, powerful warm feelings swelling inside her. Her boyfriend. Harry. She felt like she was on the verge of a whole new life and new adventure.