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I'm With You by Krazy Kitty
Chapter 1 : I'm With You
Rating: 12+Chapter Reviews: 11

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Hiya, everyone!! I was just listening to my new Avril Lavigne CD and I got this awesome inspiration for a fic! It's so amazing how inspiration works for me—it's always a song. (I got the CD for my birthday {today!} and I absolutely love Avril.) This is a H/H fic. I can't imagine writing anything else. Please, even if you don't like H/H, don't let that deter you. I would still like feedback and constructive criticism. Even if you think the way to make it better is to not make it H/H, then just tell me, please! The fic starts out sad but it'll all turn out okay 'coz I am like the biggest sucker for fluff ever. So, hope you enjoy the fic!!!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything included in the story 'cept the plot and someone else mighta used the same idea—idea, mind, just the idea—and if you are one of them I'm so, so sorry! I just hope you enjoy my interpretation.

I'm With You
By Krazy Kitty

*I'm standing on the bridge
I'm waiting in the dark
I thought that you'd be here by now
There's nothing but the rain
No footsteps on the ground
I'm listening but there's no sound*

The only thing she heard was the soft, gentle pitter-patter of rain hitting the awning under which Hermione Granger was standing. Her long, brown, curly and unruly hair made a soft, whispery sound against the silk of her shirt as she yawned, then shook her head gently to try and clear the sleep out of her eyes. Peering down the road, she saw nothing, no car, nobody. Where were they?

*Isn't anyone trying to find me
Won't someone come take me home*

Hermione didn't think that Ron or Harry, her long-time best friends, would have forgotten that today (more like tonight, she thought, looking out at the dark road just beyond the protective covering of the awning,) was the day she was coming to visit from Canada, where she now lived. They couldn't forget. She racked her brains to try and remember who was supposed to come and pick her up. Wait—Ron had a date tonight, so Harry was coming to pick her up. Her pretty face creased in a frown. Harry was a responsible person, and he'd never forget anything to do with her, she was sure. Especially since they hadn't seen each other for at least one and a half years. At the end of their seventh year at Hogwarts, her mother and father had gotten a great job opportunity in Canada, so they moved right away. In fact, Hermione barely had time to write a quick note to her friends telling where she was going, use a copying charm on it to make one for Ron, and send them with Hedwig (who had, mysteriously, appeared at her window as she was writing,) before her family had to rush out the door and catch their plane.
She shifted from foot to foot impatiently, rubbing her arms and biting her lip as she did so. What was wrong? Where was Harry? Was he okay?

*It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won't you take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are but I
I'm with you
I'm with you*

She shivered. It was cold and she was only wearing a sleeveless top. She'd forgotten how cold England could be, and the plane was warm. Pulling a hooded sweatshirt out of her bag, she pulled it over her head and felt the difference immediately. Thank goodness.
How much had they changed?, she wondered. Oh, she knew how they would look, but really, how had they changed? It had been so long ...
She heard faint yells coming from down the street. Harry, where are you, where are you? Come soon, please, before they do, she begged her friend in her mind. She knew those kinds of yells—she'd heard many of them in her time—they were the yells of those quite a bit high on drugs, and she devoutly wished that she wouldn't be here, or at least not alone, when they got here. Shivering despite the warm sweatshirt, she repeated, Where are you, Harry, where are you? Come get me please, come take me somewhere else, anywhere else, come save me please, just like you always did. I don't know where you are, but I need you here. You've always been able to sense when I need you, now come help me, like the old times. Take me away, sweep me off my feet, whatever you want, as long as you're here for me, like a mantra, over and over again. He had always been there for her when she needed help, and she would need it soon. She wasn't totally helpless, so she excused this need to herself by the fact that she hadn't had much magical practice in Canada. But she knew, deep down in the very depths of her soul, she knew it was because she liked the feeling that he gave her when he could help her. The only problem with her theory was that she didn't forget things.

*I'm looking for a place
I'm searching for a face
Is anybody here I know
Cause nothing's going right
And everything's a mess
And no one likes to be alone*

Like, for example, she never forgot her first impression of Harry. And Ron, too, of course. She walked into the train compartment and the first thought that crossed her mind was how the black-haired boy had such—well, she couldn't find a word for it, but it was very impressive. It wasn't your average tough-guy attitude, more like a quiet, calm confidence in himself and all others. It made her feel safe when she was around him, made her feel protected but not smothered, tranquil without being indifferent. She liked it.
Ron: well, let's just say that she knew right away that he wasn't the one to share secrets with. That was Harry.
The yells were coming closer, and she got a bit scared. Hermione dug through her bag, looking for her wand. She hadn't kept it on hand in Canada because there was really no need. It was a good thing she remembered to bring her wand for the visit. Ah!, there it was.
Nothing was going the way it was supposed to. First of all; Hermione knew she shouldn't have dealt with Ron. She should have made all the arrangements with Harry. She was even beginning to think Ron had forgotten. If he did, she would personally kill him when she found him. Secondly; there weren't supposed to be hoods coming closer by the second, vandalizing and smashing glass. Thirdly; Harry hadn't yet responded to her mental pleas. That was bad. Very bad. Argh, everything was so messed up it wasn't even funny anymore.
Harry, she asked in her mind, why aren't you here? You know what it's like to be alone, living with the Dursley's all those years. I've never been so alone before, because you were always there. Don't make me feel this deserted for much longer, please. Isolated ... Distant ... Withdrawn ...

*Isn't anyone trying to find me
Won't somebody come take me home*

Hermione was getting a bit frantic. She could practically see the approaching figures through the soft gloom. She began racking her mind for good spells to use, should they approach her. Harry, please ...

*It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won't you take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are but I
I'm with you
I'm with you*

Why me?, she asked. Why is it always me who is in trouble? Can't someone else have the problems? It makes no sense. Well, not like I can argue with you, she told the sky. You'd win.
Suddenly, a car pulled up in front of her, seemingly out of nowhere. That scared her. She should have heard it coming ...
The car parked and a young man got out. He seemed sort of familiar, but she couldn't place it—until she saw his face.
"Hermione?" they asked simultaneously.
Harry stayed out in the rain, simply held his arms out and smiled. She shrieked and ran at him, practically bowling him over as she hit him. Laughing, they spun around, Hermione's feet having cleared the ground with a good foot to spare.
Finally, they stopped turning, put her feet down, and she, breathless, told him, "I missed you so, so, so much! Where have you been?"
He took a deep breath and replied, "Well, I was having a nice, quiet night of moping at home"—she laughed—"when I got this call from Ron saying he forgot to tell me that you were arriving today and could I please go get you? So what could I do? I came.
"Hermione, were you waiting long? How long have you been back on English soil again?" he joked. "Feels good, doesn't it?"
She laughed again. "Of course, silly. It feels wonderful. And I wasn't waiting long at all. Perfect timing," she assured him.
He didn't believe her, but he knew she would tell him when she felt it was time to let him know what happened while she was waiting. It was so good to see her again. He looked down at her, reveling in her smell. Her unique, special scent. How he had missed that.
She looked up suddenly, and their eyes connected. Both began to get butterflies in their stomachs, but neither could look away, so captivating was the other's eyes—forest green, chocolate brown.

*Why is everything so confusing
Maybe I'm just out of my mind
Yeah, yeah . . . . *

"I missed you a lot," he informed her huskily. "Quite a lot."
Her hand involuntarily stroked his cheek. "I know, Harry, I know—" but she was unexpectedly cut off by the incredible sensation of his mouth on hers.

It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won't you take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are but I
I'm with you
I'm with you

Okay, so how was it? Like it, hate it, love it (now there's a joke ...) please
review ... PLEASE ...

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