It's About Time

Thank you to those of you who’ve taken the time to review!

Just to avoid confusion here, this is all happening simultaneously to Harry and Hermione. Twenty-two years apart but the same day, same time… make sense? Later on, the italics are Hermione’s memories… you’ll see what I mean!

Chapter 4.
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The next morning, Hermione awoke at day break. This was her typical schedule… she always tried to bathe, dress and go down for breakfast before the other girls woke up. It helped her to avoid being forced into any uncomfortable social situations. It was a self-preservation thing... or so she liked to believe.

This morning, however, as she briskly walked through the common room towards the portrait hole, she came to a standstill when she noticed that she wasn’t the first Gryffindor to rise at such an early hour. From where she had stopped, she could see that someone was sitting in her favorite arm chair, more importantly, she could see the messy, dark hair of said person sticking out over the top of the chair. She felt her pulse begin to quicken, frantically trying to remember what she was doing in the common room in the first place.

Breakfast!.. She recalled thankfully. Turning back towards the portrait hole, she began to exit at such a fast pace she quite possibly could have been sprinting.

Unfortunately, Hermione was in such a hurry to escape the room unnoticed, she’d forgotten to pay very close attention to where she was going. The tip of her shoe caught the leg of one of the study desks, her momentum still pushing her forward, and before she could stop herself she fell, hard, banging her elbow on the desk with a loud thud on the way down.

Hermione gasped in pain, clutching her elbow. Her entire arm felt numb, making it difficult to get up from the floor in her tangle of robes and limbs. A hand appeared in front of her face, unwilling to make more of a fool out of herself, she took it and was gratefully helped to her feet.

“That fall sounded something awful. Are you alright?”

Slowly, she raised her eyes from her newly scuffed shoes to look directly at James, his eyes full of concern glancing from her elbow to her face. She clutched her injured arm protectively and felt herself flush, positive that she strongly resembled a radish. He’d asked her a question, she realized, rapidly nodding in response before she pretended to be very busy straightening her robes.

“Let me check your arm,” James said as he reached out and touched the hand she had clasped around her throbbing elbow, “You may need to visit the hospital wing.”

Hermione forced a smile, “No, no. It’s nothing!” Her words, though, were betrayed by the bolt of pain that seared through her arm causing her to wince.

James gave her a stern look that resembled McGonagall rather accurately before placing his hand on her shoulder and leading her towards the portrait hole, not needing to say anything.

The corridors were still deserted at this early hour as they walked in silence towards the hospital wing. The calm was broken though when Hermione spoke suddenly as she realized something, “You must have been up waiting for Lily! How silly of me… you go back. I’ll be fine from here.”

James stopped in his tracks and looked at her as though she’d grown a second head. “What are you talking about, Hermione?” He spoke softly.

“Well, I just thought… you’re not usually up this early, I figured you were waiting for-"

“You,” he said plainly as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, “I was waiting for you.” With that, he turned and continued down the corridor, his hand grazing hers as he moved.

Hermione stood frozen on the spot for a moment, the warmth in her hand now temporarily overriding the pain in her arm. She restrained the grin that threatened to break out across her face and held back the questions that yearned to be asked, she took a deep breath and hurried after him.

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It was well past noon when a travel-weary Harry, Ron and Ginny arrived in Hogsmeade. The cloudy October day combined with the Disillusionment Charm they’d performed had made them virtually invisible during their flight, however uncomfortable. They were all extremely hungry and decided on a quick meal at the Three Broomsticks before heading up to the castle.

Once inside the nearly empty pub, they took a table near the door. Harry and Ron grimaced as they eased into their seats.

Ginny smirked at them, “A little tender from the trip, eh boys?”

This comment earned her a glare from Ron and a slight blush from Harry. She was right though… if Harry had it his way, he wouldn’t be sitting on a broomstick for quite some time.

Ron spotted Madam Rosmerta emerging from the back room and stood abruptly. “I’ll just go and… er… order us drinks,” he said distractedly as he headed towards the bar.
Harry and Ginny could just make out the pleasant voice of the barmaid who was greeting him with a pleasant, “Hello Handsome!”

As soon as he was out of earshot, they erupted in laughter. Ron and his very juvenile crush on Rosmerta never lost its absurdity. As their laughs died down, an uncomfortable silence settled over the two of them. Ginny looked down, apparently fascinated with the napkin resting in her lap… Harry observed her. Merlin, she was pretty. He was about to tell her how beautiful he really thought she was, but he stopped himself before he’d said a word. She’d only just begun to speak to him again, after… what had happened. And anyways, he and Ron needed her help… upsetting her now would be very detrimental to their mission. Not to mention, he really hated it when she was upset at him… her Weasley temper could give her mother a run for her money.

They sat there, not speaking, until Ron came back, sinking into his seat across from Harry. A far away look upon his face as he set three butterbeers on the table and sighed, “She called me handsome.”

Ginny’s laughter at this was quickly covered up by a feigned coughing fit. Harry didn’t have the heart to tell him that Rosmerta called all of her male bar patrons “Handsome”… Ron looked far too pleased at that moment.

Nearly an hour later, the three of them emerged from the Three Broomsticks feeling rejuvenated. They began walking towards Hogwarts, none of them saying a word but all of their thoughts were on Hermione.

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Hermione collapsed into her favorite velvety, red armchair. She had spent the better part of the morning in the infirmary being fussed over by a very young Madam Pomfrey. James had brought up breakfast for her from the Great Hall, two slices of toast with orange marmalade and a cup of tea with a splash of milk. “I remembered this is what you have every morning,” he had said, justifying himself at her questioning look. He’d left for class a short time later, promising to look in on her after and, at her insistence, to get her assignments so she wouldn’t fall behind.

After performing a few spells to neutralize the pain, Madam Pomfrey had given her a potion to drink, “for the sprain in your elbow”, and a strict order to not use her injured arm for two days.

Her arm now in a sling, Hermione allowed the warmth of the common room fire to sooth her aching muscles. She was just starting to doze off when she heard voices indicating that a group of people had just returned from lunch. Not just any group of people either, it was the Marauders. There was no point in trying to rest now, she thought to herself as she sat up a little straighter.

Remus approached her first, looking concerned, “We heard you had an accident,” he said eyeing her sling, “How are you feeling?”

She smiled at him, had he always been so serious? “Thank you, Remus. I’m just fine. The sling is more to remind me not to use this arm than anything else.”

“Did you hear that, mates? She’s faking.” Sirius announced, making himself comfortable on the armrest of Hermione’s chair. “Trying to get me to carry your books to class for you, eh?” He winked at her.

Peter and James had joined them right then and Hermione was the only one who noticed James give Sirius a very strange look… if she didn’t know better, she may have thought it was resentment or jealousy, even. But, luckily for her, she did know better.

“I appreciate your concern,” she began and looking to James, she added, “And all of your help. Madam Pomfrey recommends I get some rest.”

“We’ll leave you to rest then,” said James, looking pointedly at Remus and Sirius.
Sirius rose from the armrest and with a mischievous smile, he placed a quick kiss on the back of Hermione’s hand before winking at her once more and taking off up the stairs.

Remus rolled his eyes, used to these nauseating displays from Sirius, he smiled courteously at her and followed his friend.

Only James remained… Hermione smiled up at him. Before she could thank him again for coming to her aid that morning, he bent over and grazed her cheek with his lips. He stood up, his expression a mixture of confusion and delight and without a word, he too retreated from the room.

Hermione watched him go, he didn’t follow his friends upstairs but rather gathered his books again and left through the portrait hole. Just as the portrait was swinging shut, she saw him touch a hand to his mouth and smile.

She sank back down in the armchair, involuntarily touching the spot on her cheek that James’ lips had come in contact with. Hermione hadn’t had many kisses. She’d had a few with Viktor back in her fourth year but he lacked a certain precision, so to speak… she was no expert but he just didn’t excite her in that way.

She’d shared a brief, chaste kiss with Sirius under the mistletoe during Christmas at Grimmauld Place her fifth year. That had been nearly two years earlier and the butterflies still had not subsided… childhood adoration never entirely disappeared, she reasoned.

And then there was the most recent kiss. How could she have been so reckless, she asked herself again and again? She’d instantly regretted it… as she knew full well she would. They’d never discussed it but she had often wondered if Harry ever thought about that night

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Harry heaved a great sigh as he entered the Gryffindor common room. Home… he thought peacefully.

The three of them had been offered private rooms to stay in while they were at Hogwarts but Harry had asked if he could visit the Gryffindor Tower for a bit… it was just after lunch and all the students were in class and the only sound came from the crackling fire.

Despite the gravity of the situation they were currently in, he couldn’t help but smile at the memories this room evoked. Some of the best times in his life had taken place in this very spot; celebrating Quidditch victories, losing fantastically to Ron at wizard’s chess, his first kiss with Ginny, he remembered fondly.

Harry neared the fireplace and stopped within inches of a large, cushy armchair… Hermione’s favorite. He could almost see her mane of bushy hair peeking out around the edge, wishing she would simply appear there.

His vision of Hermione had led him here… but why? He sank into the armchair, his brow furrowed in concentration… but he couldn’t seem to focus. For some reason his thoughts were drawn to a different memory of Hermione.

And then he remembered where he’d seen that smile before!

At Bill and Fleur’s wedding just four months earlier.

He thought about that night often but had apparently overlooked this particular detail…

He had known that Hermione had feelings for him, a crush… But as it had never interfered with their friendship, Harry never felt that the subject needed to be addressed.

She walked into the reception… searching the room for Harry. Spotting him across the room, she made her way over to him, weaving through the tables. When she reached him, she immediately identified what he was staring at. Following his gaze to the dance floor…Naturally, she thought.

He was watching Ginny dance with her father; she was beaming and laughing with Arthur as she stepped on his toes yet again. He’d done the right thing, Harry repeated to himself. Ending his relationship with Ginny would keep her out of harm’s way but he still loved her as much as ever, maybe more.
He had been so taken with the lovely red-head on the dance floor that he hadn’t even noticed Hermione sitting down beside him.

He looked pained. She hated seeing him this way… breaking up with Ginny was easily the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, which was saying quite a lot considering.
Desperately wanting to take him away from his anguish, she reached for his hand and without a word, led him outside.

He blindly followed Hermione out into a small courtyard, there was a fountain and ivy growing abundantly over the stone walls.

“I thought you could use some air,” offered Hermione when he gave her a blank look.
“Ah… yes, I suppose I…” but he didn’t have anything to add. Sadness began to flood over him as his thoughts trailed back to Ginny and how he wished he’d been the one making her smile so brightly.

He felt Hermione take a step towards him and put her hand on his cheek.
“You did the right thing, Harry, but you can’t dwell on the past. Not when there is so much ahead of you right now.”

She took another slow step forward placing her other hand on his chest.

Her hand lingered for a moment… she’d never allowed herself to remain in such close proximity to Harry for so long for fear of exactly this. The hand on his chest seemed to have a mind of it’s own as it began to travel ever so slowly over his muscles feeling the warmth of his skin through his crisp white dress shirt.

Harry looked down at her hand, not really sure exactly what was happening. He should stop her but it felt good to be touched this way… he missed it so much. And though he knew it was Hermione there with him, he closed his eyes and pictured Ginny’s face, the way her golden brown eyes would darken with desire during their more intimate moments.

Tearing her gaze away from his chest, Hermione looked up at her friend and took another step closer to him. Their bodies were now flush up against one another. She’d completely thrown caution to the wind… not thinking what this would look like if someone were to find them in this compromising position.

She allowed her hand that had been resting on his jaw to trace its way around the back of his neck. Her other hand moving leisurely up his shoulder, her face tilted back just enough to study his features… brow creased in thought, slightly biting his bottom lip, his bright green eyes hidden under closed lids.

He shivered slightly and Hermione smirked when she felt Harry’s body react to her touch.

Harry felt her hands moving over his collarbone and felt a slight jolt travel through him… Ginny used to touch him there. Because she had known the effect it had on him. And the effect it was definitely having on him at that very moment.

He opened his eyes and looked down into her face, half surprised not to find Ginny standing before him. Suddenly very aware of the non-existent space between them Harry opened his mouth to excuse himself when the look on Hermione’s face stopped him. A shy, tentative smile crept across her face. Most unusual for Hermione… she looked so vulnerable.

For a moment she had thought he was going to leave… not knowing what to say she merely smiled at him.

He hadn’t gone! She was elated. Maybe, just maybe…allowing herself to hope…

Leaning into him and standing up onto her toes to make up for their difference in height, Hermione’s eyes dropped to his lips. His mouth slightly parted as though he were about to speak, she moved closer, her mouth mere inches from his.

Instinctively, Harry’s hands that had been resting at his sides moved to Hermione’s hips. His conscience was screaming at him to stop… This wasn’t Ginny. But he told himself that he didn’t know better… he’d had one too many butterbeers… the moonlight could be very deceiving… his inner-turmoil continued though he knew full well he just craved the closeness. It felt too good and before he knew what he was doing his head dipped and closed the few inches between his mouth and Hermione’s.

He’d kissed her… he was still kissing her! ‘Stop thinking and kiss him back, you fool!’ she shouted to herself. Allowing both of her arms to wrap around Harry’s neck she kissed him back fervently. Just as she was beginning to adjust to the feeling of his mouth on hers, he broke away.

Harry took a few steps back and turned towards the door that led into the reception hall. It quickly dawned on Hermione why Harry had pulled away. He had heard what she had been too distracted to notice… the choked back sobs of Ginny Weasley. She stood in the doorway, her eyes shining with tears, confusion and anger.

Harry couldn’t understand what had just happened… he’d half convinced himself that it was Ginny he’d been kissing but when he saw her across the small courtyard he knew the gravity of what he had done. She stood completely still, crying, and staring directly into his eyes conveying all the hurt and anger she was feeling.

“Gin! This isn’t what it-” he rushed to explain, but before he could get out a full sentence she’d turned and run back inside.

Without so much as a glance back at her, Harry ran inside after Ginny, calling her name. The elation she’d been feeling only moments before rushed out of her and she felt cold.

She sat down hard on a stone bench and looked up to the sky. One star shone brighter than all the others. Sirius… The Dog Star. A solitary tear rolled down her cheek and she laughed coldly. Astronomy at a time like this? Perfect marks in every class…the brightest witch of her age… and she couldn’t get it through to herself that Harry would never love her.

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Harry sat up in the crimson chair in shock… He had gone back inside…how could he be remembering what had happened in the courtyard after he’d gone back inside? It wasn’t possible. First flashes of blue light and visions… now this!?

Maybe Ron would be able to convince Harry that he wasn’t going mad, he thought hopefully. He leapt out of the chair and rushed off to find him.

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Hermione jolted… “that was odd”, she said aloud. A current of cold air flushed her body, as though someone had pulled a blanket off of her. She tried to comprehend what had happened… as strange as it sounded, for the briefest moment it had felt as though she’d been sitting in front of the fire... with Harry.
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