Chapter 3 : Foever and Always
| ||Rating: 15+||Chapter Reviews: 28|
Background: Font color:
I was originally very nervous for this date . . . but for some reason I felt very comfortable around this stranger. The hood was a very annoying obstacle in me finding out who my charmer was . . . but it was very mysterious and it made me want to pour my heart out to him . . . odd . . . I’ve never felt this way about someone whom I’ve first met. Was that normal? I don’t think so. I could tell he was very confident in himself when he was speaking to me. I think he has enough reassurance for the both of us.
“Do you like to fly?”
I stopped in my tracks. This question made my blood run cold and my eyes widen in shock. Fly? Oh no . . . anything but flying. That was the one thing that could bring this date to the dogs . . . being up fifty feet in midair on a thin piece of wood.
“Erm . . . not exactly.” I answered him.
The stranger tilted his head to the side in pure curiosity, “Why do you say that?”
Should I tell him? He seemed trustworthy enough. Besides . . . what other excuse was there? ‘Sliding down a thin shaft reminds me too much of unmentionable things’? I don’t think so. Then he would think I was a horny bookworm who only studies and reads romance novels. Although I have read a few of those types of books in my time . . . I wasn’t obsessed with them, making them the substitute for my lack of a love life.
“I’m sorta afraid of heights . . .” I told him with a blush to my cheeks.
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He told me, “But there’s really nothing to be afraid of.”
I furrowed my brow in confusion, “And why do you say that?”
He took a step towards me and held out his hand, “Come on.”
I smiled as I took his hand. It felt good intertwined with mine . . . it was a perfect fit. He was leading me to a patch of trees off towards the village. As we walked deeper into the thin patch of wood I saw a broom lent up against an old oak tree. Did he seriously think he was going to get me in midair? Ha. He could try.
He let go of my hand and walked towards the tree. Taking a hold of the broom, he walked to me with it in hand and dropped it about a foot away from where I was standing. It started levitating in midair with a simple wave of his hand and came up to my waist. I looked at him with a weary look.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
I thought about that for a moment. I just met him . . . I think . . . unless he was somebody I already knew . . . which was very likely, since in Hogwarts almost everybody knew who everyone was. But do I really trust him enough to put my life in danger by cause of a broom? I could easily die on that thing! And I don’t want my grave marker to say ‘Hermione Granger; Great friend, Overachieved student; Killed by falling off of a broom’.
My answer surprised me. I couldn’t control myself around this boy. It was like my mind turned to mush and my own opinions didn’t even matter. My mouth was an automatic response mechanism when he asked me a question. I wouldn’t be surprised that if he asked me to jump off of the Astronomy Tower, I would say ‘Yes’ without hesitation and go on and do it.
He got on the other side of the broom and helped me get onto it by grabbing my hand again and allowing me to climb onto his leg. It took me a while to adjust to the feeling of the broom underneath me, but I did eventually. He got on behind me and whispered in my ear, “Are you ready?” Causing shivers to erupt from my spine and my back to tense slightly.
I nodded my head as he gently kicked off of the ground. I closed my eyes tightly as I felt us lift off of the sturdy ground. Goodbye lovely ground . . . I shall miss your sturdy and reassuring form. My hands were shaky on the wood beneath them, causing us to wobble in the air. I started to hypervenalate slightly at the thought of dropping to the ground . . . that is . . . until I felt his hand come to cover mine. My breath steadied and my eyes were becoming less painful to close. How come he had this effect on me with one simple touch?
“Open you eyes.” He whispered to me.
I did as instructed without hesitation (damn automatic response mechanism!) and squeaked in fear at the height we were at. We must have been three stories high at least! If I fell, I would be dead on contact with the ground. Or . . . if I was lucky . . . I would become paralyzed from the neck down and be forced to be on a wheelchair for the rest of my life. I lent backward, feeling fait at the overwhelming thought rushing throughout my brain cells, and collided with his firm chest. “Relax.” I heard him say to me, “Don’t think about anything . . . just take it all in.”
How did he expect me to do that? We were so high up! What else could I possible take in other than our current height off of the ground?! I don’t kn—oh Merlin . . .
The scenery . . . it was beautiful. The clouds, the trees, the people below us walking around the village . . . shopping and having a good time. Was this what he meant? The view from a birds eye view? If it is then I know what he’s talking about now. It was breathtaking. I never thought I would say this . . . but I liked being this high up. If I could do this everyday, I would. Just to see the view. He must have sensed my realization, because he spoke up and brought me out of my revere.
“I told you.”
I smiled and looked back at him. This was truly a perfect setting for a kiss . . .
Whoa . . . where did that come from. Although I didn’t doubt that fact. But . . . I still don’t know who my mystery suitor is. That would be something that would help out a little bit. I would like to see the face of the boy who was close to stealing my heart. “Why don’t you show me who you are?” I asked him curiously.
He chuckled, “Are you sure you want me to do that?”
“Unless you’re a Slytherin or have an enormously noticeable acne formation on your face . . . than yes.”
I felt his hands remove from their place atop mine and saw him tug at the hood on his face. I gasped at the sight. I could feel my stomach drop down and my body go numb. It was Harry. The boy who set this whole thing up . . . was Harry. Oh my god.
“Harry?” I whispered, unable to believe my own eyes. This must be a trick . . . it must be.
He nodded his head, “I couldn’t think of another way to get your attention.”
I chuckled, this was Harry all right, “There are other ways less . . . erm . . . drastic. But I’m not complaining.”
I turn around and feel his head rest on my shoulder; I shiver at the close contact. We continued to glide above the treetops, the wind blowing both of our heads of hair behind us. His breath is tickling my neck as he speaks to me, “I love you, ‘Mione.”
I turn around in shock. He loved me? Harry loves me?! How could that be? Him and I were just friends . . . friends who shared a rather interesting kiss in the library almost a week ago. But he said he didn’t have a reason for kissing me and now he just comes out and says he loves me?! How messed up is that?! How could one change their opinion within such a short amount of time?
True . . . I fancied him at the time of our kiss . . . and probably up until now . . . and possibly before we found ourselves in this situation. But love is a rather strong word. True, I cared for Harry deeply . . . I was a nervous wreck at the time of the Final Battle when he faced Voldermort for the final time; I was the only one there for him at the time of the Triwizard Tournament; I warned him about the Department of Mysteries and the vision he had seen with Sirius being tortured; I even kissed his cheek a fair few times. But those feelings were truly platonic; those actions were purely out of my friendly nature towards him. Nothing but a friend caring for a friend’s safety and well-being . . . right? There is still a nagging feeling inside of me telling me that that’s is all a lie. Maybe I do love him . . . more than I realized I did.
I’m in love with Harry Potter. Bloody Hell.
I looked into his eyes and leaned forward, capturing his lips with my own in a chaste kiss. He responded to my action instantly and pushed forward, deepening the kiss. One of my hands left its place at the front of the broom and ran through his ebony hair. This kiss was very different from the one we shared in the library . . . there was nothing rushed about it. It was slow and passionate . . . a kiss that only two people in love could experience. This kissed confirmed it all. I was in love with him.
We both pulled back for air sometime later and smiled, “I love you too, Harry.” I heard myself say.
We both just stayed like that, staring into each other’s eyes, unaware of our current surroundings. It was like nothing else existed but me, him, and the fact that we were still in midair. “I guess you’ve found your reason to kiss me.” I said, breaking the silence.
He smiled at me, “Yeah . . . took longer than expected, though.”
“I’m not complaining if this is the outcome.”
There was a long pause, “Where do we go from here?”
I giggle (very unlike me, I assure you), “Do you really have to ask?”
“I guess not. But for now . . . I think we should get down from here.”
“No.” I said.
“I want to stay up here.”
Harry smiled at me and he placed his head stop my shoulder again. We stayed like that the whole time, gliding above Hogsmeade. I never thought riding a broom could be this pleasurable. But then again, this was with Harry . . . he always makes me see things clearer than I ever thought possible.
The ride was over before I knew it, much to my dismay. We landed by the Shrieking Shack and dismounted the broom. He helped me off the same way as he helped me on, taking my hand and letting me jump to the ground. He waved his hand over the broom and it flew off into the distance, probably to a nearby broom cupboard. I looked over at him and smiled. “We should be getting back . . . the carriages would be arriving soon.”
He nodded and took my hand.
We walked hand in hand into the village and I caught people staring at us. I looked at Harry and he caught my gaze and just smiled at me. That was all of the reassurance I needed. I didn’t care that every pair of eyes within ten feet of us was staring. I didn’t care that Harry and I would probably be the top story in the next edition of the Daily Prophet with a false story about me using him for his money and publicity. I didn’t care that all of the girls in my house would be asking about Harry’s kissing and shagging skills within the week. I didn’t care that I would probably hear false rumors about Harry deserving better than me because of my bookish demeanor.
All I cared about was Harry . . . and the fact that he was mine and I was his. And together, we would conquer all that was thrown at us. Together.
Forever and Always.
A/N: I know it is the shortest of the chapters . . . but I like the outcome of it. I hope you liked my little short story : ) Plz R/R it telling me if I should do more things like this *pout*.
Other Similar Stories