Oh god just someone turn off the lights…
Hermione groaned, pulling the pillow over her head, refusing to let her mind register anything and searched for the lost peace.
I'm not a morning person...
A nasty sound of ducks quacking – since when did the quack of ducks sound that horrible and ringing, Hermione had no idea – made her jump upright and cover her ears. Glaring at the alarm clock, she brandished her wand and waved at the accursed alarm clock to finally shut it up.
It was her Mum's doing – she was sure of it.
Hermione's body finally gave up and fell down unceremoniously on the deliciously soft mattress, snuggling in her blankets for some peaceful 'five minutes' sleep. But sleep was long gone from her mind… and she was part alert – no sleep was coming back.
Hermione groaned again. She disliked mornings. No one knew – not even her ex-dorm mates, and she intended to keep it like that. Shoving a hand through her… mess of a hair, her mind disarrayed and out of habit she walked to her destiny what she imagined – and hoped – was the bathroom, Hermione supposed closed eyes wouldn't really help her in the long run, but the sunlight really hurt!
Her hands finally found the door handle.
Already proud of the fact this state she managed to find the door handle and rubbing her eyes, the heaviness of her mind lifted abruptly as she slowly registered something.
Water was running.
And this was her good morning.
Hermione didn't know whether to cry, laugh, groan, gasp, or – or anything, but her face had already arranged it for her. She was left gaping, yeah, with mouth wide open.
Harry was standing there – like he usually stands, but unusually closing the tap, coming out, picking the towel out of the rack, and toweling his hair. Scandalizingly (is that even a word?) naked. Nude. Stripped. Unclad.
Hermione shook her head to stop reciting all the synonyms of nudity, appalled by her behavior. For Christ sake – why wasn't she looking away? Has she lost all sense of shame?!
Life finally seemed to come back in her face and now felt like she could control her facial muscles, clasped her mouth shut and blinked twice – mistakenly meeting his eyes.
Oh, she gasped this time – the pool of black eclipsing the striking green and making her shiver from head to toe. It was lust in its purest form that darkened his eyes more than the eerie obsidian shade. She hasn't witness such a look even in movies, let alone real life.
He shifted – moved – stalked towards Hermione, wrapping the towel around his waist, tucking a knot – which Hermione found she wanted to tug off.
Alertness suddenly crept into her mind.
He stopped in front of her, gazing her, sensing her – testing her. Oh he knows… he knows I'm…
But Hermione was suddenly struck with a thought. Was it Veela charms? Did he lose control again? But then this was different from what she felt yesterday. Hermione was startled into reality when Harry raised a hand, her response immediately freezing Harry into a stone. She met his eyes again – they were his green.
Yet his hand continued its journey, and tucked a stray curl behind her ear.
"Good morning." His voice rumbled, a deep dark tone – husky on the edges.
Hermione blinked, her heart skipping a beat. For a minute, she thought she was done for – that she would lose control. And however much she hated to admit it… she was near to lose control… and it wasn't Veela charms.
"Er, ahem, I'm sorry… I wasn't much awake… and I really didn't mean to… erm." Hermione turned around, still struck by her defeat of hormones raced to her room and shut it – properly mortified and thoroughly awake.
Harry's hands remain frozen in the air, the scent of his Hermione's fragrance still swirling in the air among the mist of the water. The scent was so mouth-watering… so amorous that Harry gave out a low growl. Damn, he wanted her… now…
Harry shook his head; he can't get lust get to his head now. He'll wait; he's promised he will wait for her – his knuckles turned white. He deliberately took deeper sniffs of her scent, trying to decide whether it was heaven or torture. The essence of honey of his venom dripped from his fangs.
He would have rather felt pleasure in knowing that Hermione did it intentionally, finding him starker and letting him have his way with her. That wasn't the case – he knew it. He tried to turn away, but the traitor of his body stayed, sniffing the air hungrily. Tingling sensations started in his nails.
That finally distracted him from the thoughts of breaking the door. He turned around and walked to his door, examining his nails, his eyebrows knitting at the pointed claws, curving at the ends and darker in shade, thicker – stronger. His body was further embracing his Veela nature, all because of his mate, Hermione.
Harry sighed in deep relief when his fangs finally disappeared and the claws finally seem to take the shape back of his nails. Closing the door behind him, he finally slumped down, sliding down the door as he rubbed his eyes. He hardly felt sleep coming to him last night – with the knowledge that Hermione has been just two doors away from his bathroom. It took all of his power not to creep into her room and slip into her sheets. Harry shook his head, and stood up to change into his uniform.
Finally giving up in taming the mess of his hair, he grabbed his bag and the book on Veela and opened the door. Harry tried to convince himself it wasn't really his fault and Hermione wouldn't bash his head for being naked in a bathroom, he took a deep breath and knocked on her door.
A gasp, shuffling of feet, a thump and a supposedly silent cuss.
The door opened.
"What are you grinning about?" Hermione scowled at him, although she looked like she had a pretty good idea.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." Hermione waved a hand off airily – too airily. She suddenly found it difficult to retain contact with his eyes and eyed his shoes interestingly.
Her eyes remain fixated on his shoes; Harry shook his head in amusement.
"Here. The book on Veelas." Harry handed her the book, feeling the pang of… something in his chest when Hermione grabbed the book, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Oh Harry!" Hermione grinned, "Thank you!"
"I couldn't help it. You would have hexed me to Christmas if I wouldn't have handed this to you." Harry grinned.
Hermione blushed pink. Harry thought the color rather suited her.
"I would have, if you were being a world-class prat about it." Hermione ignored Harry's narrowed eyes, "I'm… I'm sorry about today… today… it-it was an accident. I didn't really mean to."
"It's alright… it was quite a surprise for me, too." Harry blushed, rubbing the nape of his neck. Hermione was quick to assure him.
"Oh Harry, I promise I didn't see… much… oh god," Hermione covered her face to hide her blush and walked back to the room to retrieve her bag.
Harry waited for her, smiling at the look on Hermione's face. It was so cute… He shook his head, when did he started thinking of Hermione as cute?
Well, she is, isn't she? My Hermione…
Our mate, Veela corrected him.
Harry frowned, she has a name. And beautiful name at that – Hermione.
Veela didn't answer, but Harry was already lost in his musings.
Did he think of her – anything more than a friend? Was he, was he too stupid to realize until now – that Hermione is a very fanciable girl? He certainly felt smitten by her. And it wasn't really helping – he suddenly felt troubled. Was Hermione there only to help him?
"C'mon Harry." Hermione dragged him, but was stopped when Harry pulled out the heavy bag from her shoulder.
"Hey!"
"No way are you carrying this bag. It's so heavy!"
"I'm used to it, Harry."
"No need to be used to it now." Harry said firmly, pulling the bag on his other shoulder with ease, "You're my girlfriend now, and I want to do it." Harry felt an a stronger pang in his chest, a feeling of happiness and amusement when he called her his girlfriend, and when Hermione turned pink and huffed as she crossed her arms.
"I think it's completely unnecessary." Hermione said.
Harry didn't reply, thinking about whether he should place an arm around Hermione's waist or hold her hand. He turned red at that thought. It turned out that he didn't need to anything, as Hermione grabbed his hand and led them downstairs and out of the dorm.
"Harry… are you ready to tell them? About us? Or do you want to keep it a secret?" Hermione asked him hesitantly. Harry felt that it was unnecessary to keep it a secret, but then –
"What do you think about it?"
Hermione bit her lip; Harry quashed the urge to nibble her lip himself. She didn't seem to notice.
"I think… we should keep it a secret – for now Harry. Least of all we need is to garner more media attention. And what if they came across our – your secret? I don't think it's safe; it raises numerous questions in my mind. Let's keep it a secret for time being. We should tell Ron and Ginny though. They should know about this Veela thing. Don't you think so, Harry?" Harry found all of her reasons perfectly reasonable – the last thing he wanted was another repeat of the Fourth Year. Image of Hermione's hand covered in Bubotuber pus flashed in his head.
"Harry." Hermione placed a hand on his chest, it served to distract him immediately, the warm touch of his mate's hand… trembling?
He then realized why she placed her hand, a loud growl was emanating from his chest, her hand was trembling from vibrations. The growling suddenly stopped.
"Do you… disagree?" Hermione looked distressed, as she always did when they fought (which was very rare), when Hermione wanted her point to reach him.
Harry stopped her from moving her hand from his chest, a bit surprised at the tenderness of his action as it showed on Hermione's face too. He let go of her hand. "No. I agree with you. Let's keep this is a secret and let's tell Ron and Ginny, too."
Hermione looked uncomfortable at the mention of Ginny.
"Hey, don't worry. We're over – even if she isn't. She'll get over it." Harry said hurriedly. Hermione looked a bit reassured. She took his hand again and they continued walking, leaving him to contemplate on his own.
Harry still couldn't believe that Hermione had agreed to be his girlfriend. He just didn't think that Hermione saw him thatway. Ron and Hermione's relationship didn't really appeal to him that much – it always made him feel lonely. But why?
Was this jealous brotherly feeling? No they weren't. Ron would have made her happy (?). Or was he jealous as a friend because they started dating? It wasn't that either. It never really bothered him. Was he jealous as a… as a man?
"Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly as he stopped short.
He remembered that loneliness he felt when Ron and Hermione slept, their hands barely brushing. He had no reason to feel lonely that time. Why did he? Did he think of Ginny?
No.
Because he was jealous. He was jealous of Ron. He was jealous of Ron.
"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione clutched his arm, looking alarmed. Harry was snapped out of his reverie. He smiled reassuringly.
"It's nothing." Harry led her as Hermione looked unconvinced.
She dropped his hand when they reached the first floor. Harry's chest felt funny at the loss of the warmth. They continued walking past the corridors down the staircase, till they reached the Ground Floor to the Great Hall.
It was a perfectly normal day, as the Heads walked to the Gryffindor table, beside each other. Hermione suddenly tutted from beside him.
"At least swallow your food Ron. People don't want to vomit all over their food." Hermione said exasperatedly. Ron just rolled his eyes, chewed a bit and then swallowed his food loudly with a long drain of Pumpkin juice. He suddenly turned red, fiddling with the bit of his food, glaring holes at the table.
Now Hermione looked worried, "…Ron?" She gave a nervous glance to Harry, who shrugged. Those type of comments never usually hurt Ron. But… what happened?
"Hey Hermione, Harry… I-I need to confess… about something… well, I-I intended to tell you… b-but… opportunity never came, and well a lot was going on, but I promise I intended to tell you – no one knows, I swear! You're the first one to know… and please-"
"Ron!" Harry and Hermione exclaimed. Thankfully, he stopped.
His eyebrows knitted, "What?"
"You were rambling, mate." Harry offered gently, sharing concerned glances with Hermione, "It's okay, we won't be angry." He scooted a bit closely to Hermione as Ron grabbed both of their hands gratefully.
Harry wondered why his Veela got so restless whenever Ron came near Hermione. It was starting to affect him too. It took all his effort not to growl out a Ron. Hermione looked at him in concern and squeezed his hand to release some of the stiffness from his body. He relaxed.
Harry's body finally released all of the tension when Ron let go of his and Hermione's hand.
"W-Well… we… meaning… me and… me and-" Ron looked like he was exerting all of his effort and energy into this 'confession', making Hermione wary minute after minute. Ron even managed to turn the red shade of his hair. He didn't even notice Luna plopping down beside him.
"We're dating. Ronald and I." Luna added, planting a soft peck on his cheek. He and Hermione shared excited glances.
"You-"
"What-"
"Seriously-"
"That's amazing!" Harry and Hermione ended together with wide grins on their faces. Ron looked at them strangely.
"Both of you remind me of Fred…" Ron's suddenly looked down, his face matching Harry and Hermione's, but they noticed Luna's offering a comforting squeeze to Ron's shoulder, patting him a bit and made shushing noises, surprised at the tender look on her face. Ron scooted closer to her.
Hermione was… happy, very happy for them. Luna was perfect for Ron – and with his inferiority issues. She had the ability and patience to set him straight. She finally felt released from the parting lines he used when they broke up: I don't know I would be able to forget you Hermione… but you'll always be my first love. Even if it's different for you.
Hermione sighed in relief; he was able to move on. He realized, he finally realized that Harry always came first to her – and always will. She had fallen for Harry. She knew it – she had realized it in Fourth Year. Was there any explanation to why she was irritated by Cho? Or Ginny? She buried her feelings and moved on to Ron – something… something that will still hold her near Harry. Hermione knew it was useless. She loved Ron, but wasn't in love with Ron. Her stupid heart finally seemed to realize that she was only hurting him and herself… and she did it – she broke up with Ron rather than hurt him.
Hermione looked at Harry, his green eyes crinkling in mirth as he joked about something that made Ron stick out his tongue at him.
Will he ever fall in love with me?
It was as if Merlin gave her another chance… another chance to let him know her feelings. She was his mate and he was her Veela…
Is Harry happy?
"What?" Harry asked curiously, meeting her eyes. Hermione pushed down the thickness in her throat and shook her head, not trusting her voice. She grinned at Ron and Luna. Luna gave her a serene smile.
"In that case," Hermione took a deep breath, "Harry and I have something to tell you – as Luna knows." Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and squeezed, he squeezed back. Ron looked at Luna questioningly.
"It's not my place to tell, Ronald. I don't want Gymnlumps infestation in my bed." Ron actually smiled at that, and then urged them to go on.
"We're dating. For a reason – we'll tell you later. Meet us tonight at our Head Dorms." Hermione shushed at some loud reply Ron was going to make, whacking him with her fist.
"OW! Violent woman, what was that for?!"
"For being the git of the century! Can't you tell by my tone I want this all hushed?!" Hermione rolled her eyes when he gave Luna an injured puppy look.
Luna seemed to be on the same page, "Hermione's right, Ron. You can be pretty tactless. But, I love you for it." she caressed his face. Ron turned red again, but gave a shy grin. He then frowned.
"You could've atleast told me about it. That you fancy Hermione." Ron said quietly to Harry, looking annoyed for some reason. Harry sighed.
"There's a reason we're dating Ron." And I just realized I'm actually attracted to Hermione after last night. He knew that sleep was a distant possibility for him and he contemplated their relationship. He was, in fact, attracted to Hermione. Why didn't he look Ron in the eye when he said Hermione was like a sister to him? Yes, he wanted to comfort him, and he did by placing his hand on his shoulder. Then, why didn't he look him in the eye, to convince him that Hermione's like a sister to him? Simple, because she wasn't. He doesn't know what it is like to have a sister.
"Oh Harry, I can do this by myself!" Hermione complained when Harry started to place food in her plate.
"You didn't, so I helped you." Harry replied nonchalantly, as if this was of everyday occurrence.
"I'm very capable of doing this myself Harry."
"Yeah." Was all Harry said when he started adding more to her plate. Hermione scowled. She wasn't a child!
"It hardly matters, Mya love." Was it just her imagination or his voice crooned at the end? Whatever it was, Hermione blushed as she picked up her fork and started eating. It seemed impossible to eat when she could feel the pin prickles of his stare as she kept eating. She finally had enough – he hasn't even touched his plate and staring at her face like an imbecile wasn't going to help – she turned to admonish him.
She gave a silent, yet strangled gasp at the look on Harry's face – he looked at her with such a devotion, the darkening of his emerald green eyes made them dark forest green – but that wasn't what surprised Hermione. It was the look in those soulful eyes, there was such contentment and peace that reflected in his eyes that made her want to cherish that expression forever. She wanted to touch his face, share that sense of contentment with him.
Long story in short, Hermione melted like butter.
Blushing like a teenager wasn't going to help, so she just turned and buttered Harry's toast and handed it to him. He looked like Christmas came early and took the toast from her like it was his family treasure.
Hermione fought an urge to snicker. It was just like scratching a cat.
Not that Harry was a cat, though. Hermione mentally shook her head; she would take that secret to her grave.
Professor Sparks seemed to enter at the right time, the handsome teacher with well gelled spikes, and looked pumped up with youthful vigorousness. Even Ginny sighed at his sight. Hermione thought that she had every reason to. He had darkest shade of red hair, almost the colour of blood, with Muggle jeans and comfortable looking shirt. The new Transfiguration teacher handed them their class schedules.
"Wish me good luck, students." Professor Sparks gave a small yet easy going smile, which all of them returned.
"Good luck Professor Sparks." Hermione added. Sparks winced.
"It sounds like I'm in my fifties. Just call me Eustace or just Sparks."
Hermione looked scandalized, "Of course not, sir! You're our Professor!"
Ron sighed and waved, "Have a nice day Sparks. Just ignore this girl here." Hermione gave a withering glare to Ron; even Sparks gave Ron an admonishing look.
"That's not a way to treat pretty girls." Hermione flushed at the compliment, but then her gaze snapped at Harry. Was he angry?
He seemed perfectly at ease and nodded at Sparks when he left them.
"You're… okay, Harry?" Hermione asked carefully. Harry twitched, and sighed.
"Yes, I'm fine. He didn't affect me, you know? I thought that was strange, too." Harry looked annoyed for some reason. Hermione decided not to press him on further, but she didn't need to, as Harry suddenly looked like he was trying very hard to control himself.
"We have exactly the same schedule." The roughness in his tone and the black shade of his eyes was evident as he looked back at her, his thumb stroking her knuckles. Hermione nodded, rendered unable to speak. It was obvious why Headmistress did that – no one wanted Veela havoc. They're pretty sensitive creatures afterall.
Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly, promptly crashing his head on the table. It was a free period and Hermione seemed to be intensely concentrated on the Veela Charms after she read Bonding section in the book, poring and registering all the facts related to the said creatures (the Sex positions enjoyable made her turn so red, 'I'll read it privately, of course') Harry felt a bit light headed just by watching her, being in her presence.
Hermione seemed to find it difficult to concentrate, now. She didn't know whether to sympathize or feel disgusted after reading History of Veela section. There were some stories of hardships of mates and some Veela who forced their mate into bonding. She quietly snapped her book shut, and gave into the desire of running her hand through his hair, scratching his scalp.
He gave a sound akin to purr.
Cat, indeed.
"Have a bad night sleep?"
He grumbled a response.
Hermione frowned and pulled him upright; placing a hand on his face and tracing the dark bruises under his eyes. His jaw tensed. Hermione was beyond caring.
"It's this Veela thing, isn't it? It's messing with you." Hermione said worriedly. Harry placed his hand on hers, clasping them closer and placed a soft kiss on her palm. Hermione's breath hitched. Harry's sensitive ears caught that sound.
The atmosphere suddenly changed, the static in the air almost tangible as he placed a kiss on her palm again, his green eyes meeting her as they slowly trailed to her wrist, then turned black when he placed a moist kiss where her pulse lay.
Hermione gave a breathless gasp. At that moment… it – she could practically feel Harry's thirst for her blood, thirst for the essence of her to make them bonded for life.
They both realized… the thick tension in the air… this attraction… this urge to kiss each other… neither of them have felt anything like this before.
Harry secured both of her wrists, his thumbs stroking the veins on the either wrist as he slowly tilted his head as shifted closer to Hermione. She responded in the same, a helpless feeling engulfing her… she wanted nothing… nothing but to kiss him – feel the texture of his lips, taste him, drink him in…
Harry suddenly neared her face, their lips just inches apart, startling Hermione. He cupped her chin, the green shade of his eyes were the last thing Hermione saw as she closed her eyes, their lips drawing closer and closer…
He kissed her, his lips giving the softest of brush to hers – but managed to numb her mind and ignite her veins. She kissed him back, their lips just as eager, yet languorous to explore this… this raw euphoria as their lips connected. If kissing Harry was supposed to feel like this, Hermione would have kissed him long ago.
Her hand was shy to explore the softness of his ebony hair, her other hand stroking his rather strong jaw as she deepened their kiss a bit.
The move on her part set something off in Harry, as she felt a sudden movement and before she knew her back hit a bookshelf as their lips parted. Hermione opened her eyes, the green darkened by the shade of dark forest green was when Hermione realized – he was still controlling; he was still Harry.
Her legs were already wrapped around his waist, her hands still on his jaw and his hair, while he supported her by hip. Hermione never found anything so arousing before.
"Pince could have seen us…" Harry said croakily, licking his lips as he stared at hers, and finally placed his lips where she wanted them to be.
It wasn't like their first kiss, slow – yet very natural, but a wave of hot, primal need, full of wanton. His lips pressed on hers eagerly, his hands skimming her waist while his other hand went to her curly hair. Oh yes… he loved her hair… the slight wildness it still seem to carry and made him eager to touch her hair. Hermione held him tighter, kissing him back with same zeal. He gave a slow, long stroke of his tongue on her lips, the softness and the taste that was vanilla and strawberries – something to do with the candy she suckles on when she reads – he loved the thrill of pleasure it gave him when Hermione gasped and yes… moaned. His self-control was already thinned, and this woman… this beautiful woman was only making the beast in him wild and lecherous… only if she knew…
"Ah…" Hermione's lips parted, his tongue entering the softness and warmth of her mouth and gave a long lick to the roof. Her tongue tangled with his, the amorous appendage exploring his own mouth as his own hand started stroking her thigh.
Too much…
Their lips parted to catch their breath, the light strokes on her thigh turned greedy and massaging, her teeth nibbling his lower lip as her hand explored his neck down to his chest.
Too much…
Harry pressed her hard against the bookshelf, one of his hands seeking control from one of the shelf as he clutched hard on it as if his life depended on it. Hermione groaned as the urgency in Harry's kiss lessened (more like restraining himself), as Hermione's tongue left Harry's mouth.
"Hah!" Her tongue slowly slipped back to her mouth, small puffs of air blowing out, her lips ruby red and thoroughly bruised, her dark eyelashes setting an arousing contrast against her flushed cheeks, and that small crease between her eyebrows as she concentrated on her breathing while grabbing the collar of his shirt, almost led to his undoing.
Yet, he grabbed her for a small kiss, hoping to end this on a good note, rather than making her suspicious (or that was his excuse). Hermione seemed to have other ideas, as she pulled his collar and kissed him back, hard. The shelf, to which he entrusted his life on, groaned against the pressure… and finally cracked and crumbled.
Hermione let go of his lips in surprise, her eyes wide and blinking as she looked back at the broken shelf still under his trembling grip. She turned redder than ever, setting her legs down as Harry let her go, her eyes still fixated in wonder and wariness at the mess of the shelf. She met his eyes and gasped.
"I think… I think I should – erm –" Hermione moved as if to walk away, but Harry grabbed her and pulled her to an embrace.
"Wait a moment," Harry whispered roughly, pulling her closer, "Don't be afraid." His lips travelled against her ear as he panted, taking deeper breaths against her neck. The thumping of her veins seemed to relax after hearing his words. Harry realized that Hermione, indeed, trusted him – he felt elated.
Hermione bit back a moan as his harsh breathing moistened her neck, fisting her hands to keep herself from clutching his hair. He finally let her go, keeping her at arm's length. The hair near his ear was damp with sweat, his hair messier than ever (Hermione blushed at that), and he gave her a proud yet menacing grin, his dark eyes gleaming with success as they shifted to the lovely shades of emerald.
"It works." He growled triumphantly.
Hermione gave him an appraising look, "Er… what works?"
"Just a control lesson I discovered on my own." Harry didn't offer anything more than that and pulled her hand, made her grab the book she left three tables away from where they were standing and walked out of the Library.
After she recovered from her initial shock at the speed, Hermione remembered what they were talking about.
"Ahem… yeah, we were talking about these Veela problems." Harry blushed, but Hermione continued bravely, "It's not letting you sleep, that much is evident. So, try sleeping with me."
Harry choked.
"Oh c'mon Harry, it might work… hey I didn't mean it like that! I mean sleeping, literally! Hey, stop laughing!" Harry kept on laughing loudly, Hermione blushing as they walked together.
The awkwardness Hermione was expecting after the kiss remained an expectation only. She touched her lips and grinned.
So Harry was a good kisser afterall… much better than in dreams.