Secrets

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or any other such characters and events you happen to find similar to the books. This is not for profit, it is for the enjoyment of people, like myself, who like fanfics.

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Chapter 2

Hermione awoke the next day to the sound of pounding on the front door. She got up, stumbled to the front door, and opened it to the sight of Lavender Brown. She frowned at her before asking, “What do you want, Lavender?”

“Oh, nothing much, just wondering if Ron’s here. So, is he here?” she asked trying to peek around Hermione’s hair, which to her chagrin, was even messier than usual due to her unusual sleeping position.

“No, he’s no-,” her denial was interrupted by a particularly loud snore coming from the direction of the kitchen. She closed the door in Lavender’s face and was so intent on finding out what the noise was in the kitchen didn’t hear it opened back up and closed again behind her. She turned the corner and saw what looked like a pile of rags with a red mop on top asleep at the kitchen table. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight. The smile was wiped away when in the next second she saw the firewhiskey bottle cradled in his crossed arms. She turned around with the express purpose of leaving him there to deal with it by himself, only to come face-to-face with Lavender, whom she was sure she had left outside the apartment. “What are you doing in here? I did not invite you.” She glared, hoping it would scare her away. She had enough to deal with without Lavender’s presence too.

“Are you just going to leave him there?” she asked her, worry evident in her brown eyes. She tried to push past Hermione with no success.

“Yes, I am just going to leave him there. It is his own fault he is in that situation. No one told him to imbibe in that particular item. Now please leave. I don’t have the patience to deal with you along with him when he decides to wake up.” She started to walk away only to be stopped by one of Lavender’s arms in the way. She looked up to see a fury that matched her own when someone got in the way of something important to her. Of course, that made no sense because there was no indication at all since her and Ron’s break up back in 6th year that Lavender liked Ron in any way. “You’re in my way, as you have probably noticed, I would like you to move.” She glared at her again, with the same result as last time. She completely ignored her. Hermione was getting fed up with being ignored. She jerked her arm out of the way and started to move past her, only to be turned back around. She sighed and tried to control her temper before asking “What do you want, Lavender? I already told you I don’t have the patience for this.”

“I want to know why you aren’t going to move him to a bed, or somewhere at least marginally more comfortable than that table. Just because you guys are over doesn’t mean he deserves to be treated like this by you.” She stopped to catch her breath before continuing, but before she could get another word in Hermione started stalking towards her.

“What do you mean since we’re over? Who told you that? I know it couldn’t have been Ron because he wasn’t with anybody but Harry and Ginny last night. So I want to know, right now, who told you that?” She stopped just short of pressing her against the far wall and waited for an answer.

“Harry told me, last night before we left. I haven’t told anybody else, but I thought that maybe Ron would need some help today. I know how much he cares for you and I thought he could use a friend to talk to, so here I am. The way I see it, it’s a good thing I am here because you obviously are not going to take proper care of him. Now move out of my way and I will see to Ron and you can go be a bitch somewhere else,” she shoved Hermione aside and moved to the kitchen to see to Ron.

Hermione stared after her, speechless for the first time in recent memory. Had Lavender really just said she was going to see to Ron? Lavender? The girl who in school only wanted to hang out with the most popular boys and didn’t give Ron a second glance after the ministry scene washed over. Then again, Ron was a war hero who had helped defeat Voldemort and the best friend to Harry Potter. She just seemed like the girl who would go after Harry instead of his sidekick. She walked out the door, left Lavender to tend to Ron, and didn’t even begin to consider that maybe Lavender could have felt at least a little something for Ron.

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Ron’s first thought upon waking up was, Earthquake. That’s the only reason that the earth would be shaking like this. He opened his eyes and realized that he was mistaken. The reason for the shaking was actually a bit more feminine than an earthquake. He was looking down and, seeing as it was right in his line of vision, how could he miss what was obviously a pair of breasts. Hermione wouldn’t be helping him because she didn’t approve of his drinking, so he just had to figure out why he wasn’t in his apartment, which is where he was sure he had started out last night. Then once that was solved, he would work to the owner of the breasts. As he was trying to remember what he had done last night, he noticed a spot on the floor very similar to one that Hermione and he had made while enjoying their one-year anniversary.

Problem one solved, he thought to himself. Of course, that doesn’t help, because that just makes problem two more difficult. Who was this woman, because she was quite obviously a woman, and what was she doing in his flat. He tried to raise his head just to realize his neck felt like rubber. The mysterious woman must have felt it though because she stopped and he could hear her mumbling something to him. He really wished she would speak up. The only thing he could make out was what seemed to be soothing words. Okay, he really wished she would stop that because she was going to put him to sleep, and he could not sleep. He had to find out who she was first.

He must have dozed off because the next thing Ron remembered was looking up into some brown eyes. Hermione had brown eyes, but these weren’t Hermione’s eyes. Her eyes were more like the color of caramel. These eyes looked more like special dark. He smiled at that, because special dark was always his favorite kind of chocolate. He saw her get up and finally noticed the face that went along with the eyes. Lavender Brown. He closed his eyes hard and opened them up thinking he must be imagining things. Why would Lavender Brown be in his house, in his bedroom? Was she the mysterious woman from earlier? He tried to sit up just to be pushed back down by her.

“You shouldn’t try to move just yet. If that empty bottle on the kitchen table is any indication, you probably won’t be up to moving until I can find a sober-up for you.” She turned away and went to the bathroom.

“In the medicine cabinet,” he croaked. He doubted she heard him. He was barely speaking louder than a whisper, and on top of that, it came out a croak. He sat up slowly and was in the middle of standing up when she came back in the room with a bottle in her hand.

“What are you doing? I told you not to move. Here, drink this.” She shoved it at him with an irritated look on her face.

“What is it?” He looked warily at the bottle.

“It’s a sober-up. What do you think it is?”

“Okay,” he grabbed the bottle and drank it down before she attacked him, which she looked like she was ready to do. He had to admit though she looked attractive when she was mad. This thought reminded him of Hermione. “Where’s Hermione, and why are you in our apartment? How did you get in here?” He looked at her suspiciously.

“Hermione left. I walked in the front door. I am in here taking care of you because she wasn’t going to. She was going to leave you sitting at the kitchen table. I didn’t agree. We got into an argument and she left. I have no idea where she went. Why does it matter? You have someone looking after you. You and Hermione are over anyways. Harry told me last night.” She reached over and plucked the bottle from Ron’s limp fingers.

“I had forgotten about that. I knew I liked firewhiskey for a reason. I can’t believe she ended it between us. We were doing so good you know. Going for two years,” Ron let his head drop to his hands and missed the hurt look that appeared in Lavender’s voice.

“You know she wasn’t for you, don’t you, Ron?” His head snapped up at the hurt that was evident in her voice.

“What do you mean she wasn’t for me? I thought she was perfect for me. She was smart and serious to my goofy. She was studious while all I wanted to do was play. We completed each other, or so I had thought until last night. You’re a girl; can’t you tell me where I went wrong? Why she left me?” He looked at her beseechingly.

“I can’t tell you that, Ron, because honestly it confuses me just as much as it does you. You want to know the truth? I think she’s crazy for leaving you. I think she doesn’t even realize what she lost. You’re wonderful. But enough of that, we need to go and do something to get your mind off of Hermione. Let’s go to an amusement park.” She went over to the dresser and started rummaging through the drawers. “First, though, you need a shower and a change of clothes. Come on, get up off the bed and go start the shower while I find you some clothes.” She turned around and saw him staring at her? “What? Did I grow another head?” She smiled at him before turning back to the dresser.

“No, I was just wondering why you think I’m wonderful. That confuses me. No one has ever thought me wonderful. Not even Hermione. I think the only reason she was with me was because it was expected. That’s something Hermione would do. What’s an amusement park?” Without even waiting for an answer he headed to the bathroom to shower. He figured it wasn’t too bad if it had the word amusement in it.

Lavender turned around and watched him walk into the bathroom. He didn’t know it yet, but she was going to make him love her like she loved him. It would take some time, but he was well worth it. And when Hermione realized what she was missing out on, well then it would be too late for her. She wasn’t going to get a chance to hurt Ron again.

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Harry turned off the shower to hear a pounding on the door. He didn’t recognize it at first because it matched the pounding in his head.

He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist while calling to the persistent person at his door to hang on a damn moment. He walked through his bedroom to the living room and opened the door. He almost dropped the towel in shock when he saw Hermione standing there. It didn’t help that the sun was slanting off her hair in that way that always had him staring. He jerked back to reality when he noticed her talking to him.

He shook his head to clear it some. “What did you say, Hermione?”

“I asked if I could come in. I’ve been knocking on your door for about ten minutes now. What were you doing in there?” She looked at the towel wrapped around his waist and raised her eyebrows. “Oh, that’s what you were doing in there. I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I-I’ll just go now, and leave you to—whatever it was you were doing.” She backed down the stairs hoping the sunlight would be guessed as the cause for her overly red face.

“No,” he practically shouted. “I don’t want you to go. Here, come in, sit down. Let me go change into some clothes then I’ll be right back out.” He pulled her into the house and pushed her down onto the sofa before heading to the back and his bedroom. He needed the time alone anyways. Seeing her here this morning looking good enough to eat and so soon after hearing about her and Ron’s break up was enough to drive any man up the wall. He looked in his closet for something to wear and pulled out the first pair of jeans and pulled them on before sniffing through all the shirts lying on his floor and discarding them all. He really did need to do laundry.

“You know, sniffing them isn’t going to make them cleaner. That’s what they made washing machines for and I know you know what those are. I saw one in what I assume is the laundry room on the way back here.” She stood in the door way looking, well so he thought, perfect. She was dressed in a pair of muggle jeans that seemed to be made just for her and a peach and white striped button up shirt. She looked like she was ready for anything. Even her hair was tamed down. He wondered how she managed that one, and kind of wished she hadn’t. He had always loved her frizzy hair. It was just a part of her.

“What are you staring at, Harry?” she looked at him wearily before turning to find the bathroom she had passed.

Harry stared after her before turning around and hastily picked up his dirty clothes off the floor and hurried to the laundry room. He didn’t want Hermione to see what a mess he really was so he picked up all his clothes off the floor and shoved them into the washer. Ever since he’d been able to buy his own clothes he couldn’t get enough, mainly because of the fact that all he was allowed to wear at the Dursley’s were Dudley’s old hand-me-downs. Well, needless to say, that meant he had too many clothes to wash at the moment. Harry, in his haste to straighten up the laundry room before Hermione saw even more of it, didn’t pay any attention to this fact and stuffed as much as he could in his washing machine before adding detergent and turning it on.

He walked into his living room to see Hermione settled on the couch with a book that looked like it came from his bookshelf. “I didn’t know you were into those kinds of books Hermione. Oh, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine, it’s just this book was actually really good. I don’t read too many books that grip me from the front page. Who is this author by the way? I’ve never heard of her or a couple of the other ones over there. Not to mention, I didn’t know you were into these kinds of books. From the looks of your collection, I didn’t know you a lot about you.” She stood up and brought the book over to the doorway Harry had yet to leave so he could read the author.

“Nora Roberts, romance novelist. She’s really good. Public Secrets. You definitely know how to pick them. That’s probably her best book as far as I can tell, and I would know, I’ve read all of them. Well, damn near close anyways. So, tell me, when did you become interested in romance novels?” He looked at her shrewdly noticing the blush stealing up her cheeks.

“Well if you must know, I got into them around the age of thirteen. I noticed a book at the library and it was all pretty colors and such so I looked at the flap and it looked really interesting to I read it. It happened to be part of a series so I read them all and that’s how it all started. So, you haven’t answered my question yet, why did you get into romance novels. It is quite surprising, seeing as I didn’t even know you knew how to read,” she said the last with a grin.

“Well, if you must know, I got into reading them to get a girl I was crushing on,” he stated.

“Harry! You’re incorrigible,” she pushed him playfully before going to sit on the couch. “Okay, so that doesn’t explain why you still read them.”

“Well, I guess for the same reason. I liked them and it was part of a series and it just went on from there. Then, they became a way to escape from reality and go into the world in the story. It’s great. Never tell anyone I told you though, I’d never be able to live it down.” He gave her a sheepish smile and sat down beside her.

“Harry, do you want to go grab something to eat tomorrow night? We could go to the movies too. I haven’t been in a while and there’s supposed to be this really funny one out called Meet the Browns. Well we don’t have to, you know, I was just wondering--as friends—maybe-,” she faded off at the shocked expression on his face.

“Of course Hermione, I would love to. Do you have a place picked out already?” Harry asked, trying to keep the excitement bubbling up inside him, inside him, until she had left. It was easier said than done if you asked him. He wanted to explode and dance and sing all at the same time. Hermione wanted to go out with him, even if it was just as friends. The point is that she wanted to go out with him.

“Yea, I was actually wondering if you liked Italian. I was thinking we could go to Ruby Tuesdays. They’ve got this really good chicken pasta with broccoli, I don’t exactly remember the name but it’s heavenly. So do you really want to go? You’re not just going because of what happened with Ron and me?” She looked at him closely for a moment.

“Yea, I’d love to go there. I’ve always wanted to try their food. I’ve heard Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon talking after they’ve gone there and it’s always been good. So what time do you want to go? I’m open all day tomorrow, it’s my day off.” He looked at the clock while saying this and jumped up quickly. “Which reminds me, I’m going to be late for work if I don’t leave soon.”

“Oh ok, well I’ll pick you up around, say, seven thirty tomorrow night? The movie doesn’t start until nine fifteen,” she started while walking to the door.

“Yea, that’s perfect. Are you sure you don’t want me picking you up though?” He didn’t know why he asked just that he wanted her to stay a little bit longer and that seemed like a good way. It sounded like she wanted to stay too. She sounded disappointed when he said he had to go to work. That made him even happier. Maybe she had some feelings for him. He might not be the man she loved but he still had a chance to make her love him. He’d show her tomorrow night how much he cared for her.

“Yes, I’m sure Harry. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven thirty. I have to get going right now anyways. I’m moving into my parent’s house again until I can find another place. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.” With that, she opened the door and was about to step outside when Harry’s next words stopped her.

“Why don’t you just crash here? You’re 23 now Hermione, it’s going to be kind of awkward living in your parents house at that age isn’t it?” he walked after her out the door.

“No, I really couldn’t Harry. Thank you for the offer but I really can’t,” she said while walking down the front steps. She hurried away and was gone before Harry could even ask her why. He walked back inside wondering on Hermione’s weird actions at the suggestion. It wasn’t that unexpected really. They were friends, that’s what friends do. Well, he’d find out tomorrow night, she couldn’t avoid him if they were going out. He was on the way to his room to get a work shirt when he heard the washer. He peeked in and closed his eyes at the sight. It looked like he was going to be late for work after all.

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A/N: Ok, well there’s chapter 2. hope you enjoyed. I wasn’t as happy with it as I was with chapter one. Well give me your feedback and I’ll start workin on chapter 3 as soon as possible.

This is probably going to be about 5 or 6 chapters even though I was planning on just 3. it doesn’t look like it wants to be just three though so I guess I’ll follow it’s wishes.

Also, you can use your imagination on whatever kinda mess Harry has to deal with from his overstuffed washer. Have fun, lol.