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Hello! For anyone not aware, my name is Hermione Granger - during my years at school, I was the founder of an organization known as S.P.E.W: Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. I’m once again starting up, and new members are always welcome! Or any members at all, actually.
For any further inquiries, please don’t hesitate to contact me!
OOC:
Ignore everything before this post!
“Where are you going?” he smiled, reaching out to gently grab hold of her wrist. “Come back. I just meant, I’d rather lay lengthwise on the couch, which can accommodate two, than, sit up all night trying to sleep.”
His gentle grip on her wrist quelled her movements, and she blinked rapidly at his suggestion - mostly because she couldn’t find anything within it displeasing - quite the opposite, actually.
She quickly leaned against him once more, this time tugging on him slightly as she pressed her back against the couch, bringing him with her. Any and all thoughts of rationality had fled from her mind, focusing on nothing more than Harry, and how nice it felt to feel him against her. She once again nestled against his chest, yawning blearily as her eyes drifted shut.
“Goodnight, Harry.” She murmured. “Thank you, again - for everything.”
“Probably,” he said, with a soft laugh, “but I don’t mind. I’d just like to stretch out, is all, if you don’t mind.”
Hermione flushed as she realized just how much of his person she was occupying - Merlin, she had been pressed right up against him!
“Sorry,” She murmured apologetically, reluctantly pulling away with an embarrassed little laugh.
His lips quirked at the unexpected touch of her lips against his forehead. He turned slightly to spy her eyes drift closed when he thought he heard her whisper his name.
“You’re tired, Hermione, perhaps you should go to bed,” he suggested, not really wanting her to leave.
Hermione groaned into his neck at his suggestion that she leave to go to bed, feeling much too comfortable and relaxed to move away from him.
“Would it be entirely inappropriate of me to say that I’d rather just stay here?” She inquired tiredly, slightly sheepish at her admittance. She yawned, determinedly fighting sleep as she stubbornly maintained their proximity.
“Cho was jealous,” Harry clarified with a shake of his head, “and she was distraught. Besides, that sort of thing can wound a wizard for life,” he half joked. “No, Hermione. I’ve no plans to woo anyone anytime soon. The taste of tears is one I’ll never get used to.”
A sort of sadness befell him as he spoke of his untenable future, unable to tell the girl in his arms just exactly how he felt about her… not just because of his best mate, and Ginny, but because Harry certainly had no business courting anyone, when his future seemed so grim.
Hermione held back a guilty wince at Harry’s mention of Cho’s jealously - mostly due to her, if she remembered correctly. She had assumed that their was something between her and Harry, and while Hermione had originally found the premise ridiculous, but she couldn’t deny that if anybody were to walk in right now and see them - Hermione nestled into Harry’s lap with his arms around her - she wouldn’t blame them for thinking there was something between them.
She watched as something came over his expression, something sad and aching, and she felt her heart swell towards him, wanting to absorb his pain. Instead, all she could do was lean upwards to brush her lips against his forehead - the second time her lips had touched another person today, but the sensation was much different - murmuring his name once before tucking her head back into the crook of his neck, her eyes beginning to flutter shut.
Harry smiled, chuckling lightly at her words.
“I think I kiss the girls and make them cry,” he replied with a slightly bitter edge. “Just one, anyway.”
“Oh, shush.” Hermione chided, hearing the bitter tang in his voice. She tugged on his tie, playfully reproachful. “Cho was…distraught.”
“I’m sure whomever you choose to kiss from here on out will be delighted, Harry - but you best choose wisely.” She added, teasingly stern. “I will want to approve of said witches, you know - make sure they’re up to par.” For some reason, the thought of Harry kissing anyone was…distasteful, and she frowned at her realization - that was new.
Harry’s breath hitched when she moved her face toward his, his eyes almost going cross-eyed as he watched her approach, only to find himself smiling into her tired smile when she rubbed her nose against his.
He listened to her begin to pick apart the dastardly event, shifting to rest his back against the sofa, and settling into the all familiar role as sounding board. He couldn’t help but smile at the predictability of it. It was a comfortable donning of parts, yet there was something new.
Harry was fully aware that he held her in his arms, as she rested her head in the crook of his neck. New, this closeness, one he treasured in a way that lacked words to describe.
“It’s a way for someone, particularly male, to exercise power and control, when he otherwise doesn’t have it. It’s the same as it always is with Malfoy,” Harry explained with a shrug. “Forcing a witch to intimacy, like that, it isn’t about want, or lust, or love. It’s a way to make him feel strong while you are weak.”
Harry swallowed, furrowing his brow, bothered that he quite understood the need to do something like that. He pause at the thought before going on.
“But there isn’t any honor in what he did to you, Hermione. It wasn’t his right to take something from you that you weren’t willing to give.”
He turned to look at her, his gaze soft. “You should be kissed by someone you love and who loves you back. Someone who adores you and wants to show you that in a way that can’t be expressed through words alone.”
He smiled gently at her, his hand drawing lazy circles against her arm as he spoke.
“That’s what your first kiss should be like.”
It was odd, Hermione realized, with a sudden shock, to be going to Harry for advice, to look to him for knowledge - normally, it was the other way around. Him seeking advice and her being more than happy to give it - she remembered all that had transpired between him and one Cho Chang, and the way she had talked him through it.
Things had changed between them, somehow, and Hermione wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that.
She found comfort in his words, only flinching slightly at his mention of weakness. Weak. She had been weak, and for that, she had paid the price - the loss of her first kiss, to Malfoy, of all people.
The way he spoke about kissing, and love in general, elicited a shiver to run down her spine, her eyes wide as she listened to him speak. He spoke with a sort of reverence that was hard not to be affected by. Speaking of effects and the one he had on her, his hand trailing against her arm was more than distracting, and she found herself unconsciously leaning into him further, wanting to feel more of him against her.
“Oh, Harry,” She whispered as he finished his speech. “You’re a good man, you know that? And the witch who’s lucky enough to end up with you - hopefully not Romilda Vane -” She wrinkled her nose distastefully. It wasn’t that she particularly loathed the witch, per se, but there was something about her that irked her. Perhaps the fact that she was constantly trying to seduce her best friend. Clearing her throat, she continued. ” - is going to find herself extremely happy. Really, Harry - I’m sure at least half the girls in Hogwarts would be more than willing to give you their first kiss.” She smiled teasingly.
He couldn’t, at first, understand why his nose was bumping against the back of her hand that clutched her shirt closed as she did something with his hair. Only when he realized his fingers were still somewhat sticky from the paste, did he let out a small chuckle and cast a quick Scourgify. This seemed to placate her attempts to fuss over the mess he’d made, but at his question, he felt her stiffen in front of him.
Hermione’s non-answer, which basically confirmed Harry’s worst fear regarding this particular situation with Malfoy, had him pressing his lips together in a tight hypen. When she pressed her against his, Harry could feel the disappointed breath release from her mouth, washing over his. His heart cried for her.
“It’s not fine, Hermione,” he repeated on a whisper, his own lips just millimeters from hers. “You deserve so much more.” With a clean hand, he stroked her cheek and he was surprised at how easily she’d moved to nestle against him. This was becoming a very welcome habit, indeed. He just hoped Ron wouldn’t grow too angry at him if he ever decided to wander down to the Common Room after hours.
She was so close, her head against his shoulder, all he dreamed of doing his placing his lips against hers to wipe away what must be the nightmare of Malfoy’s touch against her. But…
Harry was her best friend and he didn’t wish to do further damage to what should have been a very sweet memory by assuming she’d welcome his caress. So, instead, he gathered her into his embrace, pressing his mouth to the top of her head, listening to her offer her gratitude for what they always did for one another.
“I’d take it all away for you, Hermione, if there was ever a way I could,” he said in a hushed voice. “I’d do anything for you.”
Harry’s words - and the sudden intensity found in them - as well as his embrace, sent a rush of something through Hermione’s veins, gratitude, affection, and…something she wasn’t sure of. She had always been very affectionate with both him and Ronald, but something about this felt different - it wasn’t like the swift embraces or teasing nudges they usually favoured - no, this was much different. And she didn’t exactly mind, either, not at all.
She raised her head from his shoulder, feeling his lips brush against her crown and shivering at the pleasing sensation it brought upon. She shifted closer to him, twining her arms around him and gazing up at him, her eyes soft. She playfully brushed her nose against his, smiling tiredly. She was practically in his lap, and despite their precarious location - they were right out in the open! - she found herself not caring.
“There’s nothing to take away, Harry.” She murmured, shaking her head slightly. “But thank you, again, really. I just -” She bit her lip, stiffening once more.
“I don’t know why he did it,” Her words left her in a rush. “Malfoy, I mean. He kissed me, for Merlin’s sake, and I don’t understand! I’m a muggle-born, and it makes no sense!”
