Water
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
184,463
Reviews:
812
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
5
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
184,463
Reviews:
812
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
5
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 6.
Water
Chapter Six
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sexual References, Strong language
Thank you to my betas, Jen (http://jenl3227.livejournal.com) and Dina (http://dianoram.livejournal.com) for correcting this chapter.
Disclaimer: All these characters belong to JKR. I own nothing, much to my dismay, and make no money whatsoever out of this story!
Chapter 6.
Hermione has this memory.
This one precious, beloved memory of her, Harry and Ron.
It was the summer after fourth year and they were at the Burrow. It was August, maybe late August, and it was quite possibly one of the most uncomfortably warm nights of her entire life. Too warm, and too damp, and too hard to drift off into anything other than a heated, failed, thwarted attempt to sleep. For Hermione, at least. Even to this day she wonders how in Merlin’s name Ginny had managed to achieve it. But Hermione had laid there, sticking to the sheets, not a hope in hell of anything resembling a cool draft coming her way.
Hermione decided, that night, that she was definitely the kind of person who would rather be too cold than too hot. Unless, of course, she was so cold she could barely breathe. Then it most probably would be better to be too hot, surely? Unless it felt like this, that is.
Too cold, or too hot?
And the debate distracted her for a few minutes. Merlin, she had nothing better to do, lying there, just staring up at the ceiling.
Goodness gracious. I don’t think I have ever been this bored in all my life. She thought this every five minutes or so.
Yes. Still bored.
And then suddenly she had heard voices coming from the open window. Boys.
Harry’s voice. “Do you think she’s awake?”
And Ron. “Shall I throw something through the window?”
“Yeah. Find something small.”
Throw something? Hermione scrambled out of her useless thoughts and useless bed and headed for the window as quietly as she could. And as damn fast as she could, as well. Because Ron was not about to bloody throw something into their room.
She stuck her head out of the window. Harry and Ron were standing on the grass beneath her.
Her voice raised to a half-whispered shout. “You two!” She frowned down at them. “What on earth are you doing?”
Ron dropped a stone back to the ground. It was a big stone, she noticed, and then she wondered, in a mother-like fashion, how in Merlin’s name he thought any good would have come from throwing it up there.
“Come down here, Hermione!” called Harry.
“Be quiet, will you?” she replied, glancing back at Ginny. “Why? What are you doing out at this time of night?”
“It’s too hot to sleep.”
Okay. Because if at that moment there was one reason in the whole of the world that would have stunted Hermione Granger’s infamous about-to-be-scolding session, that was absolutely, undoubtedly, it.
It was too hot.
And then the memory jumps forward a little.
And they are lying on the grass. Harry, then Ron, then Hermione, looking up at the biggest, blackest, brightest night she had ever seen.
They hadn’t talked in a whole half an hour. They just laid there. Just breathed.
She was cooler now. And she breathed in the cool air and almost shivered because of it. But it was perfect. It was what she had needed. Neither too hot, nor too cold. And so Hermione finally decided, you just simply couldn’t pick one. And strangely enough, that satisfied her.
She felt so…
Safe.
Right there and then, lying next to her two best friends. The two boys she cared more about than anyone. The two boys that, even at the young age of fifteen, even after only four years of being together, she couldn’t ever see herself being without. Ever.
She hoped they would grow old and never lose each other.
Hermione loved them both already. And she felt the sudden urge to tell them.
“You know I…” She trailed off.
No wait, she thought, perhaps I should leave it open for interpretation rather than spell it out. They were boys, after all. They may just laugh their bloody heads off at her.
And then there was the fact that she was really, very tired. Lying there before the world. And quite possibly it was all sentimental rubbish that was better left unsaid.
“You know you what?” asked Ron.
“I just— I just hope we stay friends for a long time.”
He was silent for many seconds.
“Ron?” she asked.
“Yeah. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
Hermione smiled. That was Ron agreeing with her completely. And of course the completely awkward kind of completely. I’m sure we’ll be fine.
But completely.
“And Harry? What about you?” She turned her head slightly. “Don’t you hope we’ll stay this way? When we’re older?”
“I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I mean sure.” Hesitation. Clearing of throat. “I mean, I’m very sure.”
And she almost felt her heart swell with the words. I’m very sure.
Excellent. Because now they had said it, that was how it had to be. They would stay friends in that forever kind of way. In that very necessary, very basic, very essential kind of necessary way.
“Promise me?”
Harry answered her first. “Yes.”
“You too, Ron.” She nudged him.
“I promise, alright?”
“Good.”
And then she heard Ron roll over very slightly and mumble something to Harry. Something along the lines of “Women”.
And Merlin, she must have been tired – very tired – and happy, because she really didn’t care. She must have been. And very safe, as well.
Very safe lying there next to Ron and Harry.
And so Hermione had this memory. Treasured beyond belief.
Safe with the knowledge. Safe because she knew.
She’d never lose them.
Yes. And please. Please. To whoever is up there. Just the three of them.
Don’t ever let that change.
*
Chapter Six
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sexual References, Strong language
Thank you to my betas, Jen (http://jenl3227.livejournal.com) and Dina (http://dianoram.livejournal.com) for correcting this chapter.
Disclaimer: All these characters belong to JKR. I own nothing, much to my dismay, and make no money whatsoever out of this story!
Chapter 6.
Hermione has this memory.
This one precious, beloved memory of her, Harry and Ron.
It was the summer after fourth year and they were at the Burrow. It was August, maybe late August, and it was quite possibly one of the most uncomfortably warm nights of her entire life. Too warm, and too damp, and too hard to drift off into anything other than a heated, failed, thwarted attempt to sleep. For Hermione, at least. Even to this day she wonders how in Merlin’s name Ginny had managed to achieve it. But Hermione had laid there, sticking to the sheets, not a hope in hell of anything resembling a cool draft coming her way.
Hermione decided, that night, that she was definitely the kind of person who would rather be too cold than too hot. Unless, of course, she was so cold she could barely breathe. Then it most probably would be better to be too hot, surely? Unless it felt like this, that is.
Too cold, or too hot?
And the debate distracted her for a few minutes. Merlin, she had nothing better to do, lying there, just staring up at the ceiling.
Goodness gracious. I don’t think I have ever been this bored in all my life. She thought this every five minutes or so.
Yes. Still bored.
And then suddenly she had heard voices coming from the open window. Boys.
Harry’s voice. “Do you think she’s awake?”
And Ron. “Shall I throw something through the window?”
“Yeah. Find something small.”
Throw something? Hermione scrambled out of her useless thoughts and useless bed and headed for the window as quietly as she could. And as damn fast as she could, as well. Because Ron was not about to bloody throw something into their room.
She stuck her head out of the window. Harry and Ron were standing on the grass beneath her.
Her voice raised to a half-whispered shout. “You two!” She frowned down at them. “What on earth are you doing?”
Ron dropped a stone back to the ground. It was a big stone, she noticed, and then she wondered, in a mother-like fashion, how in Merlin’s name he thought any good would have come from throwing it up there.
“Come down here, Hermione!” called Harry.
“Be quiet, will you?” she replied, glancing back at Ginny. “Why? What are you doing out at this time of night?”
“It’s too hot to sleep.”
Okay. Because if at that moment there was one reason in the whole of the world that would have stunted Hermione Granger’s infamous about-to-be-scolding session, that was absolutely, undoubtedly, it.
It was too hot.
And then the memory jumps forward a little.
And they are lying on the grass. Harry, then Ron, then Hermione, looking up at the biggest, blackest, brightest night she had ever seen.
They hadn’t talked in a whole half an hour. They just laid there. Just breathed.
She was cooler now. And she breathed in the cool air and almost shivered because of it. But it was perfect. It was what she had needed. Neither too hot, nor too cold. And so Hermione finally decided, you just simply couldn’t pick one. And strangely enough, that satisfied her.
She felt so…
Safe.
Right there and then, lying next to her two best friends. The two boys she cared more about than anyone. The two boys that, even at the young age of fifteen, even after only four years of being together, she couldn’t ever see herself being without. Ever.
She hoped they would grow old and never lose each other.
Hermione loved them both already. And she felt the sudden urge to tell them.
“You know I…” She trailed off.
No wait, she thought, perhaps I should leave it open for interpretation rather than spell it out. They were boys, after all. They may just laugh their bloody heads off at her.
And then there was the fact that she was really, very tired. Lying there before the world. And quite possibly it was all sentimental rubbish that was better left unsaid.
“You know you what?” asked Ron.
“I just— I just hope we stay friends for a long time.”
He was silent for many seconds.
“Ron?” she asked.
“Yeah. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
Hermione smiled. That was Ron agreeing with her completely. And of course the completely awkward kind of completely. I’m sure we’ll be fine.
But completely.
“And Harry? What about you?” She turned her head slightly. “Don’t you hope we’ll stay this way? When we’re older?”
“I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I mean sure.” Hesitation. Clearing of throat. “I mean, I’m very sure.”
And she almost felt her heart swell with the words. I’m very sure.
Excellent. Because now they had said it, that was how it had to be. They would stay friends in that forever kind of way. In that very necessary, very basic, very essential kind of necessary way.
“Promise me?”
Harry answered her first. “Yes.”
“You too, Ron.” She nudged him.
“I promise, alright?”
“Good.”
And then she heard Ron roll over very slightly and mumble something to Harry. Something along the lines of “Women”.
And Merlin, she must have been tired – very tired – and happy, because she really didn’t care. She must have been. And very safe, as well.
Very safe lying there next to Ron and Harry.
And so Hermione had this memory. Treasured beyond belief.
Safe with the knowledge. Safe because she knew.
She’d never lose them.
Yes. And please. Please. To whoever is up there. Just the three of them.
Don’t ever let that change.
*