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How Far Would You Go? by Aidenk77
Chapter 1 : Chapter I: Motives and Plans.
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 9

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   Harry was sat at his mahogany writing desk in the drawing room of Gimmauld Place. He frowned, and then scowled at the parchment lying there. It was another letter from Ginny, this time practically begging him to meet her for lunch. He screwed up the parchment, and tossed it into the fireplace.

   Harry leaned back in his chair, and lit a cigarette. He’d had fun with Ginny but he’d quickly grown tired of her. Always jealous, always needy. Admittedly she was pretty, gorgeous even, but that quick and fiery temper detracted from that. They’d got together almost straight after she’d finished her last year at Hogwarts, and moved into Grimmauld Place that summer. By the autumn Harry was frustrated with Ginny. They hardly went out, and Harry found he couldn’t as much as glance at another witch without Ginny flying off the handle.

   So, after another in a series of blazing rows, Ginny stormed out, as disapparated on the front step. She didn’t come back.

   Harry snorted and extinguished the cigarette. He had a desire for someone else. He’d liked her for years, as long he could remember; they’d been friends for so long. They’d spent almost the entire time at Hogwarts together, spent many long, cold and lonely nights together. They’d held hands, fallen asleep together, and she’d ended up with his so-called best friend Ron.

   She was in his mind most of the time. The pale skin, long loose curled hair, those curves. Harry stood, and shook his head. He reached inside his jacket pocket, and smoothed out a letter he’d received a few days ago.


Are you alright? We haven’t seen you for weeks. Come to our house for dinner on Friday. We miss you.



   Harry allowed himself a thin smile. ‘We’. He grimaced. He straightened his tie, and grabbed his wand, and walked down to the kitchen.

 'Kreacher!' said Harry

   The old elf sidled into the large kitchen and bowed.

  'Yes Master?' he croaked.

  'Do we have any wine? I’m going to Hermione’s for dinner.'

  'Yes Master.'

   Kreacher ducked into a low dresser, and produced a bottle.

  'Romanée Conti,' croaked Kreacher. 'One of the finest.'

  'Thank you, Kreacher. That will be all for today.'

   Kreacher again bowed low, and disappeared from the room. Harry made his way to the front door, and paused on the front step. He gripped the wine, and took a breath, and with a small pop, disapparated.

   Harry arrived in Hermione and Ron’s back garden. He gently swished his wand, and produced a bloom of red roses. He caught them, and tapped on the back door with his wand. A beautiful face came to the door, and opened it; Harry paused for a second whilst her wonderful and seductive scent caught his nostrils.

  'Hey Hermione,' said Harry. 'These are for you,' as he handed over the flowers and wine and smiled.

  'Thank you, Harry, they’re beautiful!'

   Hermione stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, and invited him into the house. Ron was sat at the kitchen table and grinned at Harry.

  'Long time, no see,' said Ron.

  'I’ve been busy,' said Harry. 'Been redecorating Grimmauld Place, and just trying to brighten the place up. There’s even a garden, so I had a guy from Wilkins Magical Garden Supplies come over and try and tidy it up a bit.'

  'Well, I hope you’re hungry. I’ve been working like a house-elf all afternoon,'

   Hermione frowned, and Harry felt his sprits rise a little. They sat down to eat, and Ron opened the wine, and poured glasses for the three of them. Hermione read the label on the bottle, and turned to Harry.

  'Do you know how much this wine costs per bottle Harry?' she asked.

   Harry shrugged. 'Not sure, I know it’s not cheap, but only the best for my best friends.'

   Ron was looking at Harry with narrowed eyes.

  'It’s nearly 125 Galleons per bottle,' she said.

  'It’s nothing,' said Harry, waving his hands airily.

   Ron turned his eyes back to his plate, and resumed shovelling. Inside Harry’s head the little voice was talking to him, almost in a series of bullet points.

  'So, they’ve still got money troubles.'

  'You’re rich, Harry.'

  'You can help her. Give her what she deserves.”

  'Ron doesn’t deserve her. You do. Turn on the charm.'

   Harry smiled at Hermione, looked at Ron, still shovelling and raised his eyebrows. Hermione laughed and Harry winked at her. He felt his spirits soar. It wouldn’t be difficult. She would see how much better he was than Ron, and come to him.

   Harry had barely touched his food; instead he was pushing it around his plate. He’d noticed Hermione was doing the same. He had had two glasses of wine, and yes, it was nothing short of wonderful. The bottle was nearly empty, and a plan began to form in his mind. Harry gripped his wand, closed his eyes and concentrated. There was a small pop, and a large bottle of whiskey appeared on the table.

  'Hey, how’d you do that?' asked Ron thickly.

  'It’s easy. It’s like ‘accio’ but you need a bit more power, and you need to know where it’s coming from. This fine Highland malt is from my drinks cabinet in Grimmauld Place,' said Harry.

   Ron looked impressed, but Harry knew Hermione could do that, it was her who’d taught him how. Harry flicked his wand and three glasses appeared on the table, and the bottle poured itself.

  'Cheers!' said Hermione.

   They each sipped the whiskey, and the three moved out into the garden to enjoy the evening sunshine. Ron seemed to brighten up as the whiskey was consumed, and before too long the trio were laughing and joking, reminiscing of times past. The bottle was finished quite quickly, and this time Hermione swished her wand, and produced a bottle from their drinks cabinet. The drink was going down very well, and Harry found was enjoying himself for the first time in months. Ron slumped down at the base of a large tree in the garden muttering to himself. He leaned forward and a few moments later, gentle snores. Harry and Hermione both laughed, the little voice in Harry’s head spoke again.

  'Part one, complete.'

   Harry picked up Ron’s wand and pointed it at him.

  'Mobilicorpus,' thought Harry and flicked the wand.

   Ron stood, still unconscious, and Harry tossed his wand over. The wand settled above his head, and Ron was moved into the house as if he was a puppet on strings.

   Hermione giggled. 'I’d forgotten how funny that spell looks!!'

   Harry sat against the tree with the drink in his hand, and motioned for Hermione to sit next to him. She did, and Harry put an arm around her shoulders.

  'I’ve missed you, Hermione. I really enjoy spending time with you.'

  'Aw, thanks Harry. I’ve missed you too.'

   Harry gently ran his fingers through Hermione’s long wavy hair, and breathed in that intoxicating scent. She didn’t seem to mind so he softly moved to kiss her.

'Harry....' murmured Hermione. 'I’m with Ron..... this isn’t appropriate.'

   Harry immediately stopped, and flushed. 'I’m sorry Hermione... I’d better go.'

  'You don’t have to go, Harry,' whispered Hermione. 'But you can’t try and kiss me. I’d never betray Ron like that, and neither should you.'

   The little voice was in full flow inside Harry’s head.

  'Shit, shit, shit.'

  'Ok, deep breath. You can do this. You just have to be a bit clever. I’m guessing getting drunk is not the answer. Think, Harry, think.'

  'I am sorry Hermione. I’d better go,' said Harry. “I’ll come over in the week.”

  'Alright, Harry,' said Hermione. 'See you soon.'

   Hermione stood, and kissed Harry on the cheek. Her beauty and her scent was driving him crazy, but he resisted and turned on the spot, and disapparated with a small pop.

   He arrived on the top step of Gimmauld Place, and tapped his wand on the door. It opened silently, and Harry slowly made his way up to the sitting room. He slumped into his armchair, and considered the evening. Evidently there were a few cracks in Hermione and Ron’s relationship. How to open those cracks up? It wouldn’t be easy, but he could do it.

   He desired Hermione more than anything. She was so warm and kind and gorgeous. Ron wouldn’t prove to be much of an obstacle and Harry Potter would be with the ‘Brightest Witch of Her Age’. Harry thought on this. Appealing to Hermione should be the first thing to do. He would be nothing but helpful, responsible, patient and kind.

   Harry fell asleep in the armchair, and didn’t stir even when Kreacher wrapped a blanket around his shoulders.

A/N: I hope you've enjoyed this first chapter.  I used the exchange rate of £5 - 1 Galleon.

Let me know what you thought.

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