Chapter 3
“Hermione.”
“Hermione.”
She let out a groan, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and attempting to lift her head, but failed due to the knot in her neck. She huffed into the table under her face, decided against getting up, and simply twisted her head to find Harry beside her.
She let out another groan, to which he chuckled in response. “What time is it?”
“Nearly nine. I couldn’t find you at supper, so I assumed you were in the library. I assumed correctly.” He gave her a crooked smile, his left elbow on the desk, his cheek resting in his hand.
The warm light of the bookshelf-counted lamps surrounded them like a halo, one lamp perfectly covered by his head of unruly hair- it was as if he was glowing.
She blinked.
Where had that come from?
“Sorry. I must have fallen asleep. I was starting on our paper for potions. I had my first class at eight this morning. I didn’t realise how tired I was.”
He let out a laugh. “I could tell by the books. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped.”
She held back a chuckle, and looked back at him, faux confused, an eyebrow lifted. “Help?”
He nodded, his glasses slightly sliding down his nose. “It’s my project too. And if I wouldn’t be contributing much, I could have at least been here for moral support.”
As they shared laughter and let the casual conversation flow between them, she let her mind shut off and ride on the little canoe she painted in her imagination, riding the soft waves of a little river.
This was what she liked doing with Harry most. Talking. For so much of their childhood, lives were at stake. It was nice when they could just be themselves and talk about things that had no weight. It was nice to be with each other, enjoying each other’s presence.
A smooth, sultry voice interrupted their conversation, and she saw Romilda Vane out of the corner of her peripheral vision behind her; Harry’s eyes moved up, but his body language hadn’t changed.
“Harry?”
He hummed in question. Hermione turned her torso to get a better look at Romilda, who had her top three buttons open and her skirt most likely higher than her fingertips.
“I saw you from over there and saw you working. I was having trouble understanding the logistics of the Arithmacy essay and was wondering if you could lend me a hand?”
Hermione felt sorely out of place, her hand finding the nape of her neck to escape embarrassment.
“I’m not sure I can help you, Romilda. Hermione is the one you should be asking if you need help.”
She felt her lips pursed, shoving down a chuckle.
She could see Romilda frown from the edge of her view. “Hermione is obviously busy with her own work. I’m sure whatever you know is more than me. I’m sure you could spare me a few moments. I’m just so lost.”
She could hear her move her weight from one foot to the other. Harry let his hand run across his face. “I don’t think I can help you.-“ And Hermione nearly jumped when Harry laid his hand upon hers on the table, interlocking their fingers over the mahogany wood. “-If you look a bit harder, you’d be able to see I’m a little busy as well.”
Hermione watched as Romilda opened and closed her mouth like a fish, eyes wide as she stared at their interlocked hands.
And she had her eyes glued to their intertwined fingers. Her mind noted that Romilda hurriedly left their presence from her peripheral view.
They’d never held hands before. They’d hugged plenty of times and even danced once or twice. But his finger rubbing against the back of her palm as their fingers were interlocked felt more intimate.
She felt him pull away and swallowed as he leaned back into his seat. “Goodness.” He let out a breath.
Her thoughts were swirling in her mind like a tornado, her eyes still tired with sleep.
“She’s still staring.” She followed his voice to see where Romilda had her eyes narrowed at them as she levitated her stack of books back onto the bookshelf.
“Lay your head on my shoulder.” She blinked once again and stared back at him.
“Excuse me?”
Harry looked undisturbed, twirling his wand in between his fingers. “Come on. She’s still there.”
She spared a glance the girl's way once again, then returned her eyes to Harry’s.
She stayed silent and waited for a beat, Harry’s face seemingly having gotten closer, and she swallowed her conscience and moved closer so her head rested on his shoulder.
They stayed there for a few minutes, the air silent, but Hermione’s mind was not.
It wasn’t as if she’d never had any physical interactions with boys in the past. Laying her head on someone’s shoulder and holding hands were not foreign ideas to her.
But it was Harry.
And with Harry, this felt more intimate than anything else.
More intimate than snogging Ron or Victor.
She stopped thinking further than that because she blinked the reality back into her mind where this was built off convenience, not intimacy.
She picked her head up, looked where Romilda was, and found her spot empty.
She cleared her throat and started to pack up her things. “She’s gone.”
“Oh,” Harry replied. She could read the smile on his face, a forced one, and saw something in his eyes that looked like disappointment before he curled his fingers under the strap of her bag and gestured for her to walk out first.
She let out a sigh. Perhaps he thought they wasted time with no one watching the charade.
-
Hermione had her hand on the main entrance door knob in their shared common room when Harry entered at the same time.
She jumped back, startled, and Harry grabbed the sides of her arms to steady her from the shock, muttering out a sloppy apology.
Once she regained her senses, she let out a deep breath and let herself look at the beating at his temple, his bangs sticking to his forehead. He had his Quidditch cape swung over one shoulder and a wash towel on the other.
His hands moved down to her elbows, and she took two steps back so he knew she had found her balance.
He let his arms fall back to his sides, pressed his lips together, and walked past her to set his garments over the side of the sofa.
“You’re back early. I thought practice ended at half-past nine tonight.”
He let out of breath, grabbed the wash towel, and ran it over his face. “Today wasn’t a great day for everyone, so I called it off early.
“Hm.”
He looked back at her. “ It’s late. Where are you going?”
She looked down at her watch to find the hour hand nearing nine.
“Prefects rounds. Hannah is sick, and Zacharias asked for leave due to the added Quidditch practice today.”
He leaned back into the arm of the sofa.“Why didn’t you ask someone else to do it with you?”
“I didn’t want to bother. I originally offered to do it with Hannah anyway, but she only found out she’d contracted Mumblemumps this morning, so I thought I’d do it alone.”
“Oh.”
“If I don’t get going, I’ll be late. I’ll see you later tonight unless you decide to turn in early.”
She went to turn around and walk out but felt her arm being pulled back.
“Wait. Why don’t I go with you?”
She let her eyes linger on where he held her wrist for just a moment before looking back up at his eyes.
She shook her head. “ I’ll be all right on my own. And besides, you should get some rest.”
“But I- we-“ he stammered. Letting go of her arm and scratching the nape of his neck.
“I’ve done it before. And no one would be watching, so there’s no need to keep our charade. I’m not sure what you’re getting all worked up for. Get some rest. I’ll see you tonight.”
He didn’t say anything for the following few seconds, so she turned back towards the door and closed it behind her.
Like most prefect rounds, it went by quickly and calmly.
But by the time she returned to their shared common area, Harry wasn’t in the living area like usual, and neither was the shower running.
Perhaps he took her idea and turned in early.
Checking her watch and finding it nearing ten, she grabbed her copy of Persuasion from her book bag and cast an Incendio towards the fireplace.
Settling down on the sofa, she pulled the quilt hanging off the side of the loveseat and swung it over her legs, letting her mind fade into the pages of her book.
—
“Now you stir the potion clockwise after I drop in each Jobberknoll Feather?”
“Yes, madam.”
She smiled, dropped a feather into the cauldron, and watched as the silver liquid spun as Harry stirred it with the stick.
He stopped, and she dropped in another.
“So, are you going to tell me the real reason you chose veritaserum?” She asked, eyes still focused on the swirling liquid.
He didn’t answer momentarily, the wooden stick between his fingers circling consistently.
“ I told you. It’s not as if we won’t be able to do it. “
She dropped in another.
“You told me you wanted to spend more time together. But we see each other every day. I see you more than I do anybody.”
He continued stirring.
“ I know we see each other more than anyone else, but ever since we returned to school we’ve just been going through the motions.”
She slid a handful of sopophorus beans towards him and instructed him to crush them.
She turned up the fire. “And is that a bad thing?
He pushed the blade over the beans, crushing them one by one and pushing them into one pile. “ that’s not what I meant. I’m just saying that the school year has been quiet, which is not bad. It’s just not what I’m used to. And therefore, it feels like our friendship has also been… quiet.”
Once the potion reached the boil, she extinguished the flame and swept the crushed beans into her palm, pouring them in and stirring.
”So you’re saying you would prefer if our friendship were… louder?”
“ I just feel like we haven’t gotten closer in these few months.”
She stopped stirring and grabbed a bottle from one of the potion shelves, unscrewing the cap and letting Harry pour it in.
“Okay… what do you suggest we do?”
“Talk?”
She screwed the cap back on. ”Harry, we talk loads.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, letting his shoulders shrug up. “ I know that. I just mean, we usually talk about random things. Not about important things.”
She had turned to face him, and she hadn’t realised how close they were standing.
She swallowed. “ I don’t mind talking about more serious topics if that’s what you’d prefer, but there’s not much I haven’t already shared with you. Unless you’re telling me, there are things you specifically want to share with me that you haven’t had a chance to.”
She watched as he swallowed, too, and he took a half step closer to her to the point where they were maybe inches apart.
His lips parted. “I think, perhaps, we should get to know each other more, not under life or death circumstances… And I think we should… explore more, what our relationship- friendship has to offer in ordinary life.”
She could feel his breath hovering over her and see the moonlight reflecting off his cheek. And if her mind weren’t so loud, perhaps she would’ve given into the temptations her heart was giving her. But she stepped back and dragged her gaze away from his lips and down to the potion bottle.
“Okay. Sounds great. We should bring the bottle back to our room to mature.”
Harry hadn’t moved, but his eyes closed as if he were thinking hard.
He nodded, out of breath, as Hermione rocked on the balls of her feet.
He gestured for her to leave the room first, and she scurried out, the potion bottle in her hands, Harry following her out.
What was that?