His Inner Child
Hermione marched out of the tent and the sound of her footsteps seemed to reverberate everywhere. Harry thought he heard a pained sigh before she exited. He chose to ignore it while rage bubbled inside of him as he thought of his neatly snapped wand. He didn't blame Hermione, not entirely, but, irrationally, he couldn't find anything or anyone else to blame. Punching his pillow into a more comfortable shape, he waited for sleep to take over. His wake up call would have been Hermione for the next watch.
The bushy brown-haired girl sat on the grass rather than on the nearby jagged rock which she overlooked immediately due to its utmost discomfort.
Hermione wasn't sure about what she was feeling and intended figuring it out. She was still putting together the pieces of a puzzle of sensations. Holding her wand firmly in her hand, she listened closely for suspicious sounds or movements.
Oh, this is just useless! The charms do the job anyway! Stupid nightly watches! She thought.
Her face soon met her hands and Hermione resisted the urge to cry. She felt guilty, dirty and couldn't bear to know that she had definitely complicated, and probably lengthened, their quest.
Hermione inhaled rapidly before stifling a cry. The suppressed energy ended up being a rather harsh stomp to the ground.
To say it was expected, it would be lying; Harry had come out of the tent. Evidently he had not been able to get to sleep and she assumed his troubled mind was keeping him awake. He sat next to her and stared down at his worn and filthy shoes.
"Come to blame me some more, have you?" Hermione spat. The involuntary impoliteness that accompanied her words surprised them both.
"No," he said gloomily, glancing at her for a fraction of a second.
"Then what are you doing here? It's my turn to be on the lookout. Go back inside, you need to rest," she replied indignantly.
Why was she being so offensive? The answer came to her after the previous puzzle quickly solved itself in her head; Harry and his unforgiving moods had reduced her to this distraught state, ignoring her and snapping back at her at every suggestion she dared make. She felt useless, though she couldn't possibly be, and rejected.
Harry seemed to have read her mind.
"It's not your fault. I'm sorry for treating you the way I did," he said ashamedly.
Hermione's eyes widened. His words were honest but not enough.
"Why do you have to make this situation so difficult?!" she hissed. "You know perfectly damn well that I'm the bad guy in this whole situation, yet now you pull off Mr. Nice Guy. Now I don't know what to do anymore!"
"You'd be the bad guy only if I'd think so, and I don't. Alright?" he replied. Harry took her left hand into his but she wrenched it out of his grasp.
"You tried to protect me and it was an innocent mistake. And besides, you are crucial and important to me," he continued.
Hermione decided to lie down on the grass, hoping she'd find a way to escape the sticky situation. She felt relieved that she had the caring Harry back and he had forgiven her. Now it was her turn. It was practically impossible not to once she locked her gaze with his and stared up at liquid green eyes that sparkled even in the shadows of the cold night.
It may have been a fault in Hermione's personality, but she couldn't forgive him just yet. She had gone through too much already, like the loss of Ron. She just wasn't ready and in no way would she forgive anyone half-heartedly.
"I don't want to talk about it,"
Harry looked startled and failed to conceal how upset he was. He still felt his hair tingle where she had stroked him earlier and his mind raced with ideas to make it up to her, right this minute, right this second. He seized the first and put it to immediate use.
Harry kissed her.
The next few moments were a blur. Their lips were softly pressed against each other and Harry held Hermione's face with both hands. Without hesitation, he then slowly led them down to her shoulders and she still hadn't broken the kiss. Harry thought he heard her moan softly.
Hermione broke the kiss abruptly. Harry was utterly surprised to see her staring back at him with an angry expression plastered on her face.
"Harry, no! I can't. Why did you do that?!" she almost screamed. Her tone was undoubtedly accusatory.
Hermione couldn't believe she let their contact last for more than just a sheer second.
"I... I don't know. I think… I thought you'd have appreciated it..." That was the best The Boy Who Lived could muster.
Hermione felt disgusted and used. She punched him squarely in his chest to convey said feelings.
"I'm not a stupid random fan girl of yours that drops down to her knees at the mere sight of you, Harry!"
"Do you think-" and then she kissed him with full force, working her hands up his back and into his hair, which she shamelessly tugged "that you can win me over that easily?"
Harry blinked, utterly confused. Though inappropriate, he couldn't help but notice how positively intoxicating her flowery perfume was now that she was so close to him.
"Look at me!" Hermione slapped him and pointed a threatening finger to his face. He gulped.
The situation couldn't get any more perplexing. Hermione insisted on attempting to hurt him physically yet continued to kiss, caress and inexplicably arouse.
"We are like brother and sister! What is wrong with- oh god," she stopped mid-sentence while he pulled her closer to him and brushed his tongue against her bottom lip.
She had battled over both anger and lust and evidently the latter had won. Not daring to break the connection, they walked slowly back into the tent. Hermione's breathing became ragged and shallow as Harry sucked on her neck, holding her by the waist. They threw themselves onto the nearest bed, Harry underneath her. Their hips met and Harry bit his lip anxiously yet didn't bother concealing a grin. He slid his hands under her shirt and made contact with her soft skin and stroked in a circular motion while their tongues entwined. She completely removed his shirt and admired his scarred and muscled upper body.
Hermione stared into his eternally mesmerizing green eyes while he was equally entranced by her own chocolate-brown ones. Ron seemed so distant, his absence had little significance now. In all these years, Ron had been a plain distraction to ignore her stronger feelings for the famous Harry Potter, with whom she deemed a relationship impossible.
She smiled knowing that Harry's initial kiss was not just a simple consolation yet a most deep confession which she read in those impenetrable eyes.
The man beneath her suddenly looked like a little boy whose childhood he had never lived: innocent, defenceless and insecure. The fearless and heroic leader appeared to have lost all of his grandeur. He was so raw.
Hermione poured all the emotion she could with her next passionate kiss. Harry growled in pleasure and kissed back.
"You're definitely not the bookwork I thought I knew so well, Hermione," he mocked, while she pressed her hips mischievously into his.
Hermione couldn't quite believe the sight that quickly took place after that. Harry had formed a single tear and it slid slowly down a strong cheek. Such irony, sadness and beauty took over Hermione that she couldn't take it any longer and wanted him badly.
"Don't leave me," he whispered so, so quietly.
"Never. I love you," she whispered back in his ear.
It was needless to say Hermione had forgiven him. Harry's eyes twinkled and that is where Hermione read his reply which was even more satisfying than words themselves.
A/N: OKOKOKOKOK! This was such an experiment! I haven't written a story in English or a story in general in years and years! I'm really sorry if you found it all so confusing and lame. It was fun to write though! If you have constructive criticism, please feel free to leave some. Reviews are flattering, positive or not. I hope the story at least amused you in case you didn't like it, tee hee. 'till next time:) – Astralchild
Edited embarrassing mistakes!