A new Harry Potter story, just under the wire
As anyone who knows me will tell you, I normally write nothing but two-fisted tales of action, full of sex and violence and harsh social commentary. Meg saddled me with the handle Mushmeister, though, so I thought I'd try my hand at some girly mush. Just for a change of pace, you understand. My first mush and my first Harry Potter, all in one, and all for you.
No title. I hate coming up with titles, so I've decided to say it's a deliberate decision to leave this one untitled. Sounds better than "I couldn't think of anything," don't you think?
Okay, the story, after the cut thingie.
They think no one knows. They think they're fooling everyone. More importantly, they think I don't know, and that they're fooling me. Given how ridiculously incompetent their attempts to hide their relationship have been, they must think I'm a complete moron.
They don't, of course. No, they actually seem to believe they're doing a good job of hiding things. And maybe they are. I seem to be the only one who's noticed anything different. Everyone else still sees them as the same old Ron and Hermione. Always fighting about something or nothing.
Except, the fights have been different for awhile now. Not as personal. Hermione never looks like she wants to cry, and Ron never looks like he's sick to his stomach over what he said. All their fights these days are over piddling little things like homework and Quidditch practice and Prefect's duties. The kind of things that they'll always fight over, even if they're together until they're two hundred years old. Not that they'll have homework when they're that old. Well, Hermione might, unless she's learned literally everything there is to know by then. But Ron won't have homework when he's two hundred. Unless Hermione makes him take whatever classes she's taking. I can see her doing that, actually. Poor bastard, still going to school when he's two hundred.
Okay, getting off track here. The point is, they haven't had one of their huge shouting matches that wakes half the castle and leaves them not talking to each other for a month in a long time.
That's not true. There was that fight last week, where Hermione left in a huff and Ron refused to talk to me. I'd swear that was fake, though. I've seen Ron after all of his rows with Hermione, and something was off this time. And they were back to normal the next day, with none of the usual nervous avoiding the topic. It must've been fake. If it'd been a real fight, there's no way they'd be talking to each other the very next day.
All of their fights have been like that lately. Either the normal small stuff they argue about for fun, or fake. And the fake ones must be to make sure no one suspects there's anything going on. But there is, even though I seem to be the only one who's noticed.
How can I be the only one who's noticed? How is that possible? It's so bloody obvious.
Isn't it? What if I'm wrong? Could I be wrong?
No. No chance. They've been acting way too strangely for me to be wrong about this. They're definitely together. The evidence is overwhelming.
Take last night. Hermione skipped dinner to work on an essay that's probably not due for another year and a half. Nothing strange about that. Well, she's strange, but we already knew that. No, the strange part was that Ron made sure to put together a plate of food to bring up to her so she wouldn't go hungry.
Okay, that's not so strange, either. Ron's been doing that forever, for me and Hermione both. It's just one of the things that makes him a good mate. But here's the weird thing - every bit of the food he took actually made it to Hermione! Usually, he's eaten half of it by the time we get to the common room. Or more than half. One time he ate all of it and had to make up an explanation when Hermione asked him why he was carrying an empty plate. She didn't believe him when he told her Peeves had thrown it at us and he'd caught it. I thought that was pretty good, myself, especially spur of the moment like that, but Hermione's too smart for that. Or maybe it was the crumbs and chocolate smeared all over Ron's mouth that made her suspicious.
Anyway, the point is, he didn't eat any of the food last night. Not on the way up to the common room, at least. When he got there he gave Hermione the plate - the entire plate, remember, not one bite taken - and she looked at him.
Well, of course she looked at him. It's hard to take a plate from someone's hands without looking at them. But it was a special look. It was a little like the look she gives Ron or me when we do something nice for her. It was even more like the looks she used to give Ron when he wasn't looking, and the looks Ron used to give her. But it was more than that. There was something else to it. Something... more, is all I can say. She looked at him, and she thanked him, and they sat there together and ate while she worked on her essay. I couldn't even interest Ron in a game of chess! He didn't eat any of the food before he gave it to Hermione, and he didn't want to play chess. He's either lovesick or a complete impostor.
He's not an impostor, is he? Good lord, what if he is? No, he can't be. Sure, he's acting strange around Hermione, but she'd notice if he were doing it because he was someone else disguised as Ron, right?
Unless she's an impostor, too. They could both be Death Eaters using magic to look like Ron and Hermione and infiltrate or whatever they call it. Spy on us. Spy on me.
No. Calm down, Harry. There's no one spying on you. That's ridiculous, and you know it.
It is ridiculous, yes. But God help me, it feels less ridiculous than seeing Ron and Hermione making lovey-dovey eyes at each other all the time. What kind of a world am I living in when nefarious plots make more sense than my best friends finally realizing how crazy they are about each other?
And I think it's safe to say crazy is the operative word, here. Look at them down there, pretending to read their books. Well, Hermione probably is reading, but she's also looking at Ron through her eyelashes. How do girls do that? If a guy tried that, he'd look like a complete idiot. And there goes Ron now, proving my point. Not that Hermione seems to notice anything wrong with it.
Hey, are they... They are! Good lord, they're playing footsie. I thought that only happened in those ridiculous books Aunt Petunia reads. Not that I've ever read any myself, of course. I haven't! It's not like...
Lovely. Now I'm arguing with myself. It's their fault. They're making me crazy, with all the secrecy and the smiles and the giggling. Hearing Ron giggle is enough to drive anyone mad. It's as bad as... Well, no, it's not nearly that bad, but it's pretty bloody horrible, believe you me. This secret love of theirs is going to drive me insane.
It is good to see them so happy, though. No matter how weird it is. They deserve it. They really do. I can't think of anyone who deserves to be happy as much as they do. Well, there's me, of course, but let's not be selfish. And let's not be jealous.
I am jealous, of course. Not just of Ron. Hermione's wonderful, and beautiful, and smart, and all those things, but I've never thought of her the way Ron does. She's my best friend. They both are. I've never fancied Hermione the way I do... Well, I've never fancied her, let's leave it at that. So I'm not jealous of Ron.
I'm jealous of both of them. The way they look at each other, it's like no one else exists. Nothing else matters. I want someone to look at me like that. I want to look at someone like that.
I had my chance, I suppose. But we were just kids! How was I supposed to know she'd go from being an annoying little girl to... Well, to what she is now.
Lord, what she is now. Gorgeous, for starters. I mean, yeah, it's not all about looks. She's smart, and she's funny, and she's brave as a pack of lions, and she's all sorts of incredible things, inner things, important things. But she's also absolutely, drop dead gorgeous. It's not my fault I fell for her. How could I help it. Just look at her!
Ron's going to kill me, if he ever finds out. Not that he will, because she doesn't feel the same way about me. She might have, once, but she doesn't now. And that's okay. I can live with that. Just having her as a friend is great. Just having her as a friend is enough.
Damn. I can't even convince myself. Big surprise. I just have to accept that I'm head over heels for my best mate's sister.
Wait. What's that sound? Behind me. Sounds like...
Oh, no. Tell me I didn't...
"Did I say any of that out loud?" I ask, not really wanting to hear an answer.
"Yes, you did," she says.
I turn slowly, and she's there. Large as life and twice as beautiful as I've ever seen her. And that's saying something.
She's smiling. That has to be a good sign, wouldn't you think? I should smile back, but I don't think I can. I have a strong suspicion that I'm sitting here looking like an idiot. I really should say something. Something suave. Debonair.
"Er...," I begin, then lose all track of what I was going to say. She's too damn beautiful. Women shouldn't be allowed to look that good when a bloke's trying to think of what to say! I think I just reinforced my image as a complete idiot.
She's still smiling, though. Maybe she likes it when I look like an idiot. That'd be good news. I'm quite good at looking like an idiot. Play to your strengths, I always say.
"You've been muttering to yourself for quite awhile, actually," she informs me. "I didn't have the heart to interrupt you."
"Um," I say, maintaining my idiot image. For her sake, you understand.
Her smile widens for a moment, then she brings it under control and asks, "Why are you hiding back here instead of sitting with Ron and Hermione?"
"I'm not hiding," I say, grateful for a change of subject. "I wanted some privacy, and I figured they would, too."
She looks over my shoulder at the couple in question, who are no doubt still being mushy in front of the entire library. Shameless, really.
"I can understand that," she says. "They're good together, don't you think? And don't you think it's odd that no one else seems to have noticed?"
"Yes!" I say, grateful that I'm not the only one wondering about that.
"It's good of you to give them privacy," she says. Then her smile returns as she continues, "You realize, that means we have some privacy, as well."
"I, uh, well..." It's all I can say. Idiot Harry is back again, it seems.
And it seems she really does like Idiot Harry, because her smile softens and she looks directly into my eyes.
"Say it again," she says.
"What?" I have no idea what she's talking about.
"Say it again," she repeats. "To me, instead of to yourself."
Oh, that. Fair enough. She deserves to hear it, and I'm suddenly no longer worried about how she'll react. I'm not sure what to say, though. It should be beautiful and flowery and all that, like in one of Aunt Petunia's books. Which I have not read, for the record.
I don't know how to say it like that, though, and I'm afraid I'd mess things up royally if I tried. So the plain and simple truth is going to have to suffice.
”You're pretty," I say. "Beautiful, really. And you're really nice, and you're funny, and smart, and beautiful. Which I just said, I know, but it bears repeating. And whenever I'm around you, I feel like a total idiot."
Judging by the look on her face, that bit of truth might be a bit too plain and simple, so I rush to explain.
"A good kind of idiot, I mean. I never know what to say or do, but that's okay because you don't hold it against me. Or I hope you won't, anyway."
"I won't," she promises, very seriously. Which I appreciate, definitely, but I'd appreciate it even more if she'd start smiling again and let me know I'm saying this right. I have a horrible suspicion that I'm not being as suave and debonair as I'd hoped. Nothing for it but to press on, though.
"And I feel really good when you're around, and bad when you're not, which I used to think was a fever or something, but now I know it's that I've, uh... fallen. For you. Fallen for you. Head over heels is the term I'm looking for, I think."
She just stands there looking at me when I finish. I can't read the expression on her face. She doesn't look upset, but she's not smiling, either, and that can't be a good sign. I look away, trying to think of anything else to say, but her hand comes up to hold my cheek and pull my head around to look at her again.
And maybe I did say the right thing after all, because I recognize her expression now. She's looking at me the same way Hermione looked at Ron last night. And she's smiling again. Not a big, wide grin or anything, just a small, beautiful smile. Like she's got a secret she wants to share with me. And now she's leaning down to bring her face close to mine, and I think she's going to kiss me. Which I think is an absolutely brilliant idea, personally.
Just before her lips reach mine, she pauses and looks me in the eye.
"I've fallen for you, too, Harry. I fell a long time ago, actually, and I've been waiting for you to catch up."
And then she kisses me, and I kiss her, and we kiss each other, and basically there's a whole lot of kissing going on. And it's bloody amazing, just like I always knew it would be. Everything I am is in this kiss. Every bit of my body and soul. Except for one little annoying thought.
Ron's going to kill me.
But you know what? I really don't care.
END
So that's it. Chances are it'll be invalidated once the book comes out, but I don't care because mine was available first, dammit. And it's free!
No title. I hate coming up with titles, so I've decided to say it's a deliberate decision to leave this one untitled. Sounds better than "I couldn't think of anything," don't you think?
Okay, the story, after the cut thingie.
They think no one knows. They think they're fooling everyone. More importantly, they think I don't know, and that they're fooling me. Given how ridiculously incompetent their attempts to hide their relationship have been, they must think I'm a complete moron.
They don't, of course. No, they actually seem to believe they're doing a good job of hiding things. And maybe they are. I seem to be the only one who's noticed anything different. Everyone else still sees them as the same old Ron and Hermione. Always fighting about something or nothing.
Except, the fights have been different for awhile now. Not as personal. Hermione never looks like she wants to cry, and Ron never looks like he's sick to his stomach over what he said. All their fights these days are over piddling little things like homework and Quidditch practice and Prefect's duties. The kind of things that they'll always fight over, even if they're together until they're two hundred years old. Not that they'll have homework when they're that old. Well, Hermione might, unless she's learned literally everything there is to know by then. But Ron won't have homework when he's two hundred. Unless Hermione makes him take whatever classes she's taking. I can see her doing that, actually. Poor bastard, still going to school when he's two hundred.
Okay, getting off track here. The point is, they haven't had one of their huge shouting matches that wakes half the castle and leaves them not talking to each other for a month in a long time.
That's not true. There was that fight last week, where Hermione left in a huff and Ron refused to talk to me. I'd swear that was fake, though. I've seen Ron after all of his rows with Hermione, and something was off this time. And they were back to normal the next day, with none of the usual nervous avoiding the topic. It must've been fake. If it'd been a real fight, there's no way they'd be talking to each other the very next day.
All of their fights have been like that lately. Either the normal small stuff they argue about for fun, or fake. And the fake ones must be to make sure no one suspects there's anything going on. But there is, even though I seem to be the only one who's noticed.
How can I be the only one who's noticed? How is that possible? It's so bloody obvious.
Isn't it? What if I'm wrong? Could I be wrong?
No. No chance. They've been acting way too strangely for me to be wrong about this. They're definitely together. The evidence is overwhelming.
Take last night. Hermione skipped dinner to work on an essay that's probably not due for another year and a half. Nothing strange about that. Well, she's strange, but we already knew that. No, the strange part was that Ron made sure to put together a plate of food to bring up to her so she wouldn't go hungry.
Okay, that's not so strange, either. Ron's been doing that forever, for me and Hermione both. It's just one of the things that makes him a good mate. But here's the weird thing - every bit of the food he took actually made it to Hermione! Usually, he's eaten half of it by the time we get to the common room. Or more than half. One time he ate all of it and had to make up an explanation when Hermione asked him why he was carrying an empty plate. She didn't believe him when he told her Peeves had thrown it at us and he'd caught it. I thought that was pretty good, myself, especially spur of the moment like that, but Hermione's too smart for that. Or maybe it was the crumbs and chocolate smeared all over Ron's mouth that made her suspicious.
Anyway, the point is, he didn't eat any of the food last night. Not on the way up to the common room, at least. When he got there he gave Hermione the plate - the entire plate, remember, not one bite taken - and she looked at him.
Well, of course she looked at him. It's hard to take a plate from someone's hands without looking at them. But it was a special look. It was a little like the look she gives Ron or me when we do something nice for her. It was even more like the looks she used to give Ron when he wasn't looking, and the looks Ron used to give her. But it was more than that. There was something else to it. Something... more, is all I can say. She looked at him, and she thanked him, and they sat there together and ate while she worked on her essay. I couldn't even interest Ron in a game of chess! He didn't eat any of the food before he gave it to Hermione, and he didn't want to play chess. He's either lovesick or a complete impostor.
He's not an impostor, is he? Good lord, what if he is? No, he can't be. Sure, he's acting strange around Hermione, but she'd notice if he were doing it because he was someone else disguised as Ron, right?
Unless she's an impostor, too. They could both be Death Eaters using magic to look like Ron and Hermione and infiltrate or whatever they call it. Spy on us. Spy on me.
No. Calm down, Harry. There's no one spying on you. That's ridiculous, and you know it.
It is ridiculous, yes. But God help me, it feels less ridiculous than seeing Ron and Hermione making lovey-dovey eyes at each other all the time. What kind of a world am I living in when nefarious plots make more sense than my best friends finally realizing how crazy they are about each other?
And I think it's safe to say crazy is the operative word, here. Look at them down there, pretending to read their books. Well, Hermione probably is reading, but she's also looking at Ron through her eyelashes. How do girls do that? If a guy tried that, he'd look like a complete idiot. And there goes Ron now, proving my point. Not that Hermione seems to notice anything wrong with it.
Hey, are they... They are! Good lord, they're playing footsie. I thought that only happened in those ridiculous books Aunt Petunia reads. Not that I've ever read any myself, of course. I haven't! It's not like...
Lovely. Now I'm arguing with myself. It's their fault. They're making me crazy, with all the secrecy and the smiles and the giggling. Hearing Ron giggle is enough to drive anyone mad. It's as bad as... Well, no, it's not nearly that bad, but it's pretty bloody horrible, believe you me. This secret love of theirs is going to drive me insane.
It is good to see them so happy, though. No matter how weird it is. They deserve it. They really do. I can't think of anyone who deserves to be happy as much as they do. Well, there's me, of course, but let's not be selfish. And let's not be jealous.
I am jealous, of course. Not just of Ron. Hermione's wonderful, and beautiful, and smart, and all those things, but I've never thought of her the way Ron does. She's my best friend. They both are. I've never fancied Hermione the way I do... Well, I've never fancied her, let's leave it at that. So I'm not jealous of Ron.
I'm jealous of both of them. The way they look at each other, it's like no one else exists. Nothing else matters. I want someone to look at me like that. I want to look at someone like that.
I had my chance, I suppose. But we were just kids! How was I supposed to know she'd go from being an annoying little girl to... Well, to what she is now.
Lord, what she is now. Gorgeous, for starters. I mean, yeah, it's not all about looks. She's smart, and she's funny, and she's brave as a pack of lions, and she's all sorts of incredible things, inner things, important things. But she's also absolutely, drop dead gorgeous. It's not my fault I fell for her. How could I help it. Just look at her!
Ron's going to kill me, if he ever finds out. Not that he will, because she doesn't feel the same way about me. She might have, once, but she doesn't now. And that's okay. I can live with that. Just having her as a friend is great. Just having her as a friend is enough.
Damn. I can't even convince myself. Big surprise. I just have to accept that I'm head over heels for my best mate's sister.
Wait. What's that sound? Behind me. Sounds like...
Oh, no. Tell me I didn't...
"Did I say any of that out loud?" I ask, not really wanting to hear an answer.
"Yes, you did," she says.
I turn slowly, and she's there. Large as life and twice as beautiful as I've ever seen her. And that's saying something.
She's smiling. That has to be a good sign, wouldn't you think? I should smile back, but I don't think I can. I have a strong suspicion that I'm sitting here looking like an idiot. I really should say something. Something suave. Debonair.
"Er...," I begin, then lose all track of what I was going to say. She's too damn beautiful. Women shouldn't be allowed to look that good when a bloke's trying to think of what to say! I think I just reinforced my image as a complete idiot.
She's still smiling, though. Maybe she likes it when I look like an idiot. That'd be good news. I'm quite good at looking like an idiot. Play to your strengths, I always say.
"You've been muttering to yourself for quite awhile, actually," she informs me. "I didn't have the heart to interrupt you."
"Um," I say, maintaining my idiot image. For her sake, you understand.
Her smile widens for a moment, then she brings it under control and asks, "Why are you hiding back here instead of sitting with Ron and Hermione?"
"I'm not hiding," I say, grateful for a change of subject. "I wanted some privacy, and I figured they would, too."
She looks over my shoulder at the couple in question, who are no doubt still being mushy in front of the entire library. Shameless, really.
"I can understand that," she says. "They're good together, don't you think? And don't you think it's odd that no one else seems to have noticed?"
"Yes!" I say, grateful that I'm not the only one wondering about that.
"It's good of you to give them privacy," she says. Then her smile returns as she continues, "You realize, that means we have some privacy, as well."
"I, uh, well..." It's all I can say. Idiot Harry is back again, it seems.
And it seems she really does like Idiot Harry, because her smile softens and she looks directly into my eyes.
"Say it again," she says.
"What?" I have no idea what she's talking about.
"Say it again," she repeats. "To me, instead of to yourself."
Oh, that. Fair enough. She deserves to hear it, and I'm suddenly no longer worried about how she'll react. I'm not sure what to say, though. It should be beautiful and flowery and all that, like in one of Aunt Petunia's books. Which I have not read, for the record.
I don't know how to say it like that, though, and I'm afraid I'd mess things up royally if I tried. So the plain and simple truth is going to have to suffice.
”You're pretty," I say. "Beautiful, really. And you're really nice, and you're funny, and smart, and beautiful. Which I just said, I know, but it bears repeating. And whenever I'm around you, I feel like a total idiot."
Judging by the look on her face, that bit of truth might be a bit too plain and simple, so I rush to explain.
"A good kind of idiot, I mean. I never know what to say or do, but that's okay because you don't hold it against me. Or I hope you won't, anyway."
"I won't," she promises, very seriously. Which I appreciate, definitely, but I'd appreciate it even more if she'd start smiling again and let me know I'm saying this right. I have a horrible suspicion that I'm not being as suave and debonair as I'd hoped. Nothing for it but to press on, though.
"And I feel really good when you're around, and bad when you're not, which I used to think was a fever or something, but now I know it's that I've, uh... fallen. For you. Fallen for you. Head over heels is the term I'm looking for, I think."
She just stands there looking at me when I finish. I can't read the expression on her face. She doesn't look upset, but she's not smiling, either, and that can't be a good sign. I look away, trying to think of anything else to say, but her hand comes up to hold my cheek and pull my head around to look at her again.
And maybe I did say the right thing after all, because I recognize her expression now. She's looking at me the same way Hermione looked at Ron last night. And she's smiling again. Not a big, wide grin or anything, just a small, beautiful smile. Like she's got a secret she wants to share with me. And now she's leaning down to bring her face close to mine, and I think she's going to kiss me. Which I think is an absolutely brilliant idea, personally.
Just before her lips reach mine, she pauses and looks me in the eye.
"I've fallen for you, too, Harry. I fell a long time ago, actually, and I've been waiting for you to catch up."
And then she kisses me, and I kiss her, and we kiss each other, and basically there's a whole lot of kissing going on. And it's bloody amazing, just like I always knew it would be. Everything I am is in this kiss. Every bit of my body and soul. Except for one little annoying thought.
Ron's going to kill me.
But you know what? I really don't care.
END
So that's it. Chances are it'll be invalidated once the book comes out, but I don't care because mine was available first, dammit. And it's free!