Disclaimer

Harry Potter and all associated characters, locations and what not belong to J.K. Rowling and whoever she sells the rights to. I have borrowed these characters, locations and what not in order to mess around with them. In some cases I have lifted a piece of dialogue or scene directly from the books as a touchstone. I do not own anything except the plot and I am not making any money from this endeavor. This applies to the whole story.

AN:

This fic was written as part of a challenge where you are presented with a line or two of song lyrics. The goal of the prompt is to focus on the snippet you're given rather than the song as a whole and write a Harmony fic (lyrics don't have to be included as a quote in the text). The lyrics I was given were:

"Gimme, Gimme, Gimme a man after midnight. Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away." - Gimme Gimme Gimme by Cher

To which my first reaction was, of course: Wait! WTF?! Cher?! I'd heard about that movie where only one guy in the world remembers the Beatles, but I didn't know we'd moved on to include ABBA.

Anyway, as you can possibly tell, I started off distracted by all the wrong things and it turns out that Cher released a cover album of ABBA's greatest hits last year which... just no.

All of this to say: I don't own Gimme Gimme Gimme; I'm just not sure that Cher does either.

Hermione couldn't believe she was doing this. Thinking back it wasn't hard to come up with how she had gotten here, she just couldn't quite believe that she would go this far.

After Harry had won the war three years ago, her two best friends had accompanied her to Australia to help her restore her parents' memories. The whole affair hadn't quite been the smashing success she'd hoped for.

While they had restored Daniel and Emma Granger's memories easily enough, the dentists' reaction had been anything but pleased. In the argument that followed Hermione had promised them she would do whatever she could in order to get them to forgive her. One of those things had been that she would get her GCSEs and attend a university in the non-magical world.

Hermione had thrown herself into the task as fervently as she could, worried that if she failed she would lose her last chance at keeping her parents in her life, and she had succeeded. The day she told her parents that she'd been accepted to Cambridge University was the first time she had seen them honestly smile in years.

Hermione had been determined that her university career would make them even more proud; proud enough to forgive her for erasing their memories, or at least proud enough to accept that she hadn't been acting like some 'overly hormonal, foolish brat of a teenager'.

Of course, those promises she had given had only covered atoning for erasing her parents' memories; they had been given before she'd made her next mistake: introducing Ron as her boyfriend. Initially, once they had understood that her relationship with Ron was not the reason Hermione had decided to fight in a war that she wouldn't escape entirely unscathed, her parents had been willing to give her boyfriend a chance.

Unfortunately, the relationship between her parents, educated in science at a university level, and Ron, who had never even thought about having to live without magic, never really warmed up. They had simply been too different.

Hermione had thought that she could live with her parents and her boyfriend being mutually cordial at best, but it had still stung when her parents seemed to be even happier on the day that she told them her relationship with Ron had ended than when her acceptance letter came.

After her break up with Ron and starting university, Hermione had found herself so busy that she had lost contact with the magical world before she knew it. There were days when she half-expected that someone might write her, but it never happened. Nor did anyone ever visit or contact her in any other way. It hurt but all she could do was keep going.

Some days, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that restoring her parents' memories had set her irrevocably on the path to once again becoming the girl she had believed and sworn she would never be again. She was attending one of the most prestigious universities in the world and she just felt so utterly alone. She was living the future she had expected for herself before Professor McGonagall had turned herself into a cat in the Grangers' living room.

If anything, the feeling was made worse by knowing that she'd had friends and that there was a whole world out there that her professors and classmates would never know about. On top of that, her mother now dropped hints in every phone call that she was waiting for Hermione to bring home a 'nice young man'.

Hermione had no interest in the kinds of men her mother would approve of. The ones she had been introduced to so far were invariably dull, full of themselves and enrolled in the dentistry course at some university or other. I did not fight a war so that I could be pushed into being some dentist's wife.

The determination that she would wrest some control over her own life away from her mother's guilt trips was what had finally pushed Hermione over the line and brought her out here to Hidden Rooms, one of the few clubs in Cambridge. From what Hermione knew about finding men, meagre though that store of knowledge might be, this was the place where you might do it.

With a shake of her head, Hermione forced herself to stop procrastinating and marched up to the club's doors and pulled. The doors remained stubbornly shut. Hoping that that feeling of her gut being swallowed up by a cold, dark force was entirely premature Hermione gave the doors a push; they remained unmoved. She swallowed the scream of frustration that was trying to claw its way out of her throat.

"Hermione? Hermione Granger? Is that you?"

The scream squeaked out as a rather embarrassing "Eeep!"

Standing a little further out into the street was a girl Hermione vaguely recognised from her class on Early European Religions. "Samantha, right?"

"Yeah, Samantha Whethers." The girl confirmed. "Look, not to be rude or anything, but what are you doing?"

"I was trying to get into this place," Hermione muttered, not wanting to admit to more than that.

"Oh... well, you're a little early. This place only opens at midnight."

Hermione's shoulders slumped. I should have known it. The whole dratted universe is telling me that I don't belong here. Maybe I should just give up and accept my fate as 'The Bookworm'.

Her bitter thoughts were interrupted by Samantha's voice speaking up once again. "You know, I have other plans tonight, but next week me and a few friends were thinking of going here. If you'd like to tag along, we'd love to have you."

Hermione felt like she was teetering on the edge of... something. "I-..." She fell. "I think I'd like that, thank you."

"Oh good!" It was a little surprising to see the other girl so genuinely happy that Hermione would be coming along with her and her friends. Samantha drew a note pad out of her bag and ripped a page off before diving back into the bag to grab a pen. "Here, this is my dorm address. Just show up here next week on Friday around nine or so."

"O-okay, sure," Hermione managed, taking the piece of paper with the address.

"Great! I'll see you then!" Samantha called out as she was already turning to leave.

"See you then," Hermione murmured, probably too quietly to be heard, lifting her empty hand half-heartedly in the air.

What have I gotten myself into?

:-:-:-:-:

Hermione inspected herself in front of her mirror. All week she'd been considering whether it wouldn't be better to find Samantha and tell her that this was all a big mistake. That Hermione Granger didn't go clubbing.

In the end, it always came back to the same consideration though: Hermione had never backed down from something before and definitely not from showing the universe where it could stick its ironic messaging.

Satisfied that she had done all she could and trying not to feel guilty that she had used a bottle of Sleakeazy's to tame her hair into soft curls rather than her usual bushy mess, Hermione grabbed her purse and left her dorm. She made sure to lock her door carefully even though she couldn't explain to herself why it mattered more this time than any other.

Hermione had checked the route to Samantha's dorm room several times already, just in case. She didn't want to show up carrying a map after all; that would probably be very much not in character with going out to a club.

When she finally got there Hermione hesitated. Last chance to back out, Granger... Resolutely shaking off those doubts, she raised her hand and knocked. Sooner than she'd expected, the door flew open.

"Hermione! I was worried you wouldn't come." Samantha exclaimed happily. The bubbly girl took Hermione's hand and pulled her into a room that looked full to bursting with two girls sitting on a bed and a third in the swivel chair by a desk.

"No, I'm happy you invited me," Hermione said, forcing a smile.

"Oh, I was worried I'd come on a little strong," Samantha chattered away. "Sit. Sit. What would you like? I have wine or rum 'n coke."

Hermione eyed the mostly empty bottle of white wine suspiciously. She wouldn't consider herself a wine snob, but that stuff clearly looked like it came from the cheapest shelf in the supermarket. "I'll try the rum and coke." she decided.

Samantha nodded and busied herself with the glasses and bottles standing on the desk. Seeing the way the two girls on the bed shifted closer together to make room, Hermione deduced that she was probably supposed to join them.

She'd barely lowered herself onto the mattress when a glass was shoved into her hands. "Thanks."

Samantha just waved her hand at Hermione's thanks. "Have you met everyone? I mean, we're all in Professor Hobson's class, but none of us could really remember ever having a conversation with you."

"I guess we haven't," Hermione allowed, taking a sip of her drink to cover her discomfort. It took all of her self-control not to spit it right back up. She wasn't an expert on mixing drinks, but this cocktail tasted so strongly of rum that the coke seemed to have been added solely for light flavouring. In the end, she couldn't stop a cough.

"Well, these are Mandy, Jess and Alice." Samantha introduced, pointing to each girl in turn. "Um, are you alright?"

"Yes." Hermione choked out not wanting to admit to these girls just how much the strength of the drink had surprised her. "It just went down the wrong way."

"Eugh, speaking of going down the wrong way: I ditched Jaimie! There had better some good ones at the Room tonight!" the girl Hermione thought had been introduced as Jess exclaimed.

"Seriously? How is every guy you sleep with so wrong?" Mandy asked, shaking her head.

"Because none of them are His Hotness." Jess retorted with a smirk. "Bet he could shag me to Sunday sideways."

"I'm sorry, who?" Hermione asked, cursing herself for not having bought some kind of gossip rag and doing the research that was probably necessary to keep up with this nonsense.

"Oh, that's right! You wouldn't know since you've never been," Samantha gushed as she bounced a bit on the desk she had taken a seat on. "There's this one bloke that shows up every so often. We're pretty sure he's not a student or a townie, but dear lord is he gorgeous."

"He's muscly and yummy and if he's there tonight he's all mine," Jess declared proudly.

"Yeah, 'cause you've had so much luck with him in the past," Alice joined the discussion, her accent letting Hermione know that she came from America or had at least spent a lot of time there.

"I'm sorry, you've lost me again," Hermione admitted, wishing she could just cast a disillusionment on herself and disappear. She did the next best thing and took another sip of her cocktail. Knowing what was coming made it a lot easier to swallow.

"His Hotness never goes home with anyone," Mandy explained with a wink. "He'll dance with a girl, but he never takes them home. I saw someone hand him her phone number written on her knickers once and he didn't bat an eye, as if it happens to him all the time."

"Probably does," Alice snorted.

"Hmph, we can't be sure unless we try, right? You're with me on this right, Hermione? We need to gather evidence before drawing conclusions on the feasibility of the proposition!"

Hermione couldn't help but smile at this approach, no matter how misguided by alcohol it might be. "I'm not sure I should shoot for someone that unapproachable on my first time there."

"So you are hoping to shoot for someone!" Samantha commented shrewdly.

Drat it, Granger, pay attention to that mouth of yours. If you're not careful you'll have to Obliviate the lot of them. "Yeah," She admitted. Prevaricating for only a few seconds she gave the other girls a quick overview of her mother's attempts to play matchmaker.

"Ooo, so you want a bad boy!" Mandy cackled. "Daring. Daring. I wouldn't have thought that you had it in you."

"Well, we can help you be more daring at any rate." Samantha giggled. "Want a refill?"

To Hermione's surprise, she had managed to finish off her drink while she'd been ranting about the boys her mother had tried to force on her. "Oh. I thought we'd be drinking at the club, to be honest."

"Nah, it's hideously expensive," Jess dismissed Hermione's words. "We get a nice buzz going here and let some of the more desperate blokes buy us a round when we get there."

It seemed a little immoral to Hermione somehow, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. Instead of worrying about what appeared to be a normal thing in these situations, she went along with it for once and held out her glass to Samantha to a loud cheer from the other three.

The next few hours struck Hermione as slightly odd. She had never been one for 'girl talk'; had despised it when Lavender and Parvati would go at it for hours back at Hogwarts. There was no way she could term the discussion she was a part of tonight as anything else though. The commiserations she had gotten for her mother's actions and the assurances that she wouldn't be left alone unless she wanted to be were more than she had ever expected from this evening.

Maybe... maybe this isn't so bad, Hermione allowed, ignoring how her thoughts seemed to be working in slow-motion and that everything seemed worth a giggle or two right now.

"Al-alright, ladies! Time to go!" Samantha exclaimed. Hermione was about to protest, but before she could Jess had cut her off.

"Yeah, the booze is gone anyway." It was another one of those comments that seemed worth a giggle, even if Hermione was having a little trouble remembering whether she would have found it funny in any other situation. "Remember girls: we're goddesses... we're just going to get absolutely mortal tonight!"

The five friends... friends? Sure, why not? Friends. The five friends trouped out of the room and headed out into the streets of Cambridge. At the college gate, a resigned-looking porter gave the group a wave which caused them all to collapse against each other in giggles again.

The walk down the street seemed to take a lot longer than it ever had before, but Hermione could only pay a marginal amount of attention to it as most of her focus was on the way her legs and balance seemed to go in every direction except the one she most wanted them to.

They made it to Hidden Rooms and saw a small cluster of students waiting in front of the door.

"Yay! The line's not too bad tonight!" Mandy cheered as they joined the others. The group in front of them immediately turned around to make conversation on the topic of how long the lines at the door could get.

Hermione noticed that this group seemed to consist entirely of boys; boys who eyed the girls up and down one by one. She took a small stagger to the side to hide herself somewhat behind Samantha who wrapped a comforting arm around her.

"No worries," Samantha whispered. "We're not letting this lot do anything other than maybe pay for our drinks."

"Won't they be upset if we just walk off after they do that?" Hermione whispered back nervously.

"Yep. That's why we'll spend a few minutes talking to them until we can find a good excuse to duck out. If all else fails we can always claim we're going to use the loo. With how packed this place usually is, it wouldn't be weird if that meant not seeing them again at all tonight."

Hermione nodded. She thought that she might understand what the plan of action was, even if she wasn't sure she liked it.

"We'll see you girls inside, yeah?" one of the guys called when their group finally reached the door. Hermione shivered when his eyes met hers and he gave her a shy, hopeful smile. He didn't look like he was evil, certainly not a Death Eater or even as bad as some of the Slytherins had been back at school, but the idea of having him try a move on her just wasn't appealing.

"Eugh, what a bunch of losers." Jess snorted. "If I wasn't at least eighty-five percent sure they'll buy us whatever we want when we get inside, I'd have slapped one of them by now."

The girls were let into the club in short order and, true to the other Jess' predictions, found the group of boys waiting for them by the bar. They offered to buy the girls whatever they liked and soon had four orders, leaving Hermione the centre of attention. "Uhm, I'm not sure what..."

"She'll have a Mojito, like me!" Samantha ordered at a low bellow. The boys nodded and two of them turned to the bar and tried to get the bartenders attention. The others tried to make conversation.

Hermione wondered what they were hoping to achieve. The music in the club was so loud that the only way to communicate was to yell in each other's ear. There was no way whatever they were saying was going to land the way they hoped it would. It took several awkward minutes before the bar delegation was back and handing out drinks. Hermione accepted her cocktail and, upon seeing what the others were doing raised with an indistinct cheer of good health.

When she took a sip Hermione could immediately tell that this cocktail was made with a good deal more concern for how it was supposed to taste rather than prioritising alcohol content the way Samantha had. Unfortunately, the price for this one was to listen to someone bellow in her ear while she wondered when he might have last brushed his teeth.

Hermione was about to ask one of the other girls whether it was time to head to the loo yet when Jess rose up on her tiptoes and waved energetically at someone Hermione couldn't see.

"Some friends of ours are over there!" Samantha screamed politely at the boys. "We're just gonna go say 'hi'!" She grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her over to the where the other girls were waiting for them.

Hermione couldn't claim that she was all that surprised when there didn't appear to be any friends waiting for them. There did seem to be something else that was causing Mandy and Jess considerable excitement. Hermione could see that they were already yelling in Samantha and Alice's ears and decided to wait for the grapevine to do its thing. Not like any human voice can achieve the kind of decibel level it would take for me to understand them at this distance.

Hermione didn't have to wait long for Samantha to turn around with a giddy grin. "He's here!" she squealed in Hermione's ear. Hermione's face must have shown some confusion because Samantha leant in again. "It's His Hotness! C'mon! We're gonna try to get closer!"

Pushing through the crowd behind the other girls, Hermione decided that this whole endeavour was doomed to fail from the start. A quick look around told her that there were several other groups, just like her own, all heading in the same direction and all looking like packs of starving dogs that had just spotted a juicy steak. At this point, she was just hoping to get a look at this boy so that she could hopefully place some of the conversations that evening in the proper perspective.

She felt like she should have known better when she ran up against a wall of bodies that were either unable or unwilling to go any farther. With how cramped this club was and how many people there were she had barely any chance of getting a clear view of this person and there was nowhere near enough room for anyone to point him out to her. Hermione's predicament was finally noticed by Samantha who managed to pull her closer while contorting her own body out of the way. Hermione thought it would be rude to her new friend if she didn't take this painstakingly created opportunity and leant through the manufactured gap. Her eyes swept the group of boys in front of her, not really seeing anyone worth all this trouble.

Then he looked up, straight at her, and Hermione's breath stopped in her lungs. She knew those amazingly green eyes; knew that messy hair. Harry... Judging by the look in his eyes, eyes she hadn't seen for years, he had recognised her too.

Three blinks later he was standing right in front of her, reaching out as if he was half-convinced that this was a dream and she would disappear. Then his hand touched her shoulder and Hermione's world rushed back in. The noise, the stench of sweat around them and her mind throwing up reminders that she'd not had any contact with any witch or wizard for years.

Harry's mouth moved in front of her, but since he wasn't yelling in her ear Hermione couldn't understand a word of what he was saying. She didn't have the focus to spare to try and decipher his words by reading his lips. Hermione was desperately torn between screaming at Harry for not writing, hugging him within an inch of his life for finding her again or just running away and hoping this was all a fever dream induced by too much alcohol. In the end, Harry's decision was made a lot earlier than hers. His eyes sharpened and seemed to drill right into her soul.

'Hermione? Is that really you?' Harry's lips were moving along to the words, but Hermione knew damn well that she wasn't hearing any sound.

'You're the one invading my mind. You tell me.' She hadn't meant to snap at him, not really, but it still hurt to know that she had meant so little to her best friends that they wouldn't even write to her.

'I did write.'

'What?! Damn it, Harry!'

'I'm only scanning your surface thoughts, Hermione, but that one was pretty loud.' Harry's mouth was moving, but Hermione thought he was probably saying something else than he was projecting into her mind. 'Correct. I'm reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood in case you decide to quiz me. Now, what's all this about me not writing? I've written you dozens of times. You just never wrote back. I got worried and visited your parents to check on you once but all they'd say was that you were at university and didn't want to see me.'

'Oh no! The mail redirecting ward! When I get my hands on them...'

'Hermione? Want to clue me in?'

'The biology department keeps a very close eye on the local wildlife here for a couple of reasons, so just to be safe I cast a mail redirection ward. All my post is delivered to my parents and they promised they would pass it on to me, but they said no one ever sent me anything!' Hermione felt tears burning at the back of her eyes. She couldn't believe that her parents would do something like that. Hadn't she done everything she could to include them in her life? Wasn't she doing everything they had asked to atone for erasing their memories? Why would they go behind her back like this?

Before the tears could make their way down her cheeks she felt herself being pulled forward into a solid chest as strong arms wrapped around her. A hand was rubbing circles on her back and in her mind she could hear three words she never thought she'd hear again.

'I missed you.'

The damn tears leaked out. No matter how much she didn't want to be, Hermione Granger was standing in some loud, cramped, smelly club crying into Harry Potter's shirt and having a hard time thinking of anywhere she'd rather be. 'I missed you too, Harry.'

Once she felt she had control of her emotions again, Hermione drew back a little so she could look up into those eyes she had missed so much. 'What are you doing here?' she asked in wonder. She hadn't expected Harry to blush in response.

'Ah. Well, Dudley's been telling me that I need to find a girlfriend and after hearing me describe-... um, let's say I described a certain type of girl, and he decided that this was the best place for us to look.'

'Dudley? As in your cousin Dudley?!'

'Yeah, surprised me too. Turns out he'd been feeling a bit of a git ever since we ran into those dementors right before fifth year and after the war he told me he wanted to try and build some kind of familial relationship between us. Guess we've been trying ever since.'

Hermione hated hearing that; hated that Harry had been doing something like that on his own and that she had not been there to help him through it.

Before she could get too caught up in her own thoughts, she felt a tug on her wrist. Looking behind her she could see four very impatient faces. Hermione didn't need to use legillimency to know that her new friends would dearly like an introduction. As her gaze swung over the group standing behind Harry she could see a few knowing grins. 'How long were we just standing there?'

'Not sure, but it looks like our time is up.' Harry's thoughts sounded resigned.

'At least you'll be able to hear my introductions.' Hermione agreed in a similar tone. Since Samantha was the one standing closest to her, Hermione began her introductions there. "Samantha, this is Harry! We were best friends at school!" She yelled in the other girl's ear. Samantha's head whipped around and Hermione found herself faced with an incredulous stare. Ignoring it for now, Hermione turned to Harry and yelled the rest of the introduction in his direction, while repeating it at a much more comfortable volume mentally.

Harry acted the part of the perfect gentleman and leant forward to speak loudly in Samantha's ear, pointedly pretending he hadn't noticed her giddy expression or the way she pressed up against him. The other three introductions really didn't go any better.

A part of Hermione sympathised with the feelings of annoyance she could feel coming from Harry over their still active legillimency link. Another part of her, one she rather hoped that he hadn't noticed was seething at the way the other four girls were flinging themselves at him. A tap on her shoulder briefly distracted her and she found herself looking up at a blond body-builder holding out his hand to her. While she really didn't want to put up with yet another person trying put themselves between Harry and her, Hermione didn't really think she could communicate that clearly until he lowered his head a little so she could tell him to sod off.

When he did lean down his first words surprised her. "You must be Hermione! I'm Dudley!"

For a moment she thought that she must have misheard. "Dudley?! You don't look the way I imagined you!" The moment the words left her lips, Hermione could have kicked herself. The mountain of a man in front of her just roared with laughter though.

"You're thinking of the way I looked when Harry lived with my parents!" he yelled in her ear cheerfully. "I'm studying Physical Education at Bedfordshire now! Had to get in shape if I wanted even a chance at getting in!"

Hermione nodded, unsure of what she was supposed to say to that. Between his own words and Harry's, Dudley Dursley had turned out quite differently from how she'd always thought he'd be. Dudley seemed to read something on her face because he leant down again. "Look, I just want to say that I'm sorry about the way I used to think about magic!"

While she appreciated the sentiment, a part of Hermione couldn't help but feel slightly offended that he was apologising to her rather the one he'd hurt with that view. "You don't need to apologise to me!" she yelled back. "I don't think we've even ever met before!"

"Maybe not! But I wanted to get a headstart on getting into your good books with the way Harry's looking at you!" Dudley's smirk told her all she needed to know about how their earlier embrace must have looked to the others around them. "Just try to keep him from being too much of a mopey git, yeah?! He really didn't take it well when you disappeared on him!"

Before Hermione could ask what Dudley had meant by that, Harry burst in on their conversation with a momentum that made it look like he had just broken free from a patch of Devil's Snare. 'Hermione! Wanna dance?' he begged, barely even bothering to move his mouth as cover.

'As long as we can keep talking like this.' Hermione agreed with a grin. 'All this yelling is giving me a sore throat.'

Harry just grinned at her and pulled her a few steps away from the others, only pausing when Dudley clapped him on the shoulder and shot him a thumb's up. Harry just shook his head in answer to whatever that was supposed to mean and Hermione decided that she really didn't want to know anyway.

Hermione discovered that dancing in such a small club consisted of nothing so much as simply gyrating up against each other. With how many people were packed into such a limited space, there really weren't any other options and even keeping your own rhythm was difficult with the number of bodies bumping into you at any given moment.

'So... Dudley?'

'I told you, we're trying to get along now.'

'Seems to be working.'

'Sort of. I have to admit that he really does seem different and like he honestly wants us to start over. I'm the one who's having a hard time letting go of the past.'

'I wouldn't blame you. His parents?'

'Still hate everything about me. They don't know that we do this.'

'Why do you do this?'

'I thought I'd covered that?'

'No, you told me why Dudley brought you here. You never said why you agreed to let yourself get dragged along or why you're letting him try to set you up with girls.'

'Oh. Right.'

Hermione got the feeling that Harry knew perfectly well what he had and hadn't told her, but that he'd been hoping she wouldn't push.

'I guess I've just been really done with the magical world lately.' Harry admitted. 'You remember how people got about the Boy Who Lived crap back at Hogwarts, right?'

'I remember.'

'Well, that's gotten about a hundred times worse. Just about the only escape I have is doing something like this in the muggle world and Dudley's just about the only contact I still have outside of the magical world.'

'You have me...' Hermione didn't really need the flash of hurt that Harry couldn't hide quickly enough to know that she hadn't exactly been there for him these past few years, even if there was nothing she could do about it now. Nothing except be there going forward.

'I have you now.' Harry agreed, apparently thinking along the same lines.

'You'd better not let go.' Hermione thought at him with slightly more desperation than she'd intended, her arms tightening around him. 'I don't want you to let go ever again.'

For a while, the two friends simply relished being in each other's presence. It didn't matter to Hermione that she was being squished up against Harry like this; it was just more reaffirmation that he was there.

Unfortunately, with the amount she had been drinking so far, the rush of seeing Harry again was taking her energy with it as it faded. Hermione's body began to droop. She found herself hanging heavily on her friend's shoulders as her body began demanding the sleep that it was being so actively denied.

'Hermione?'

'Hmwah?' Even her thoughts felt sluggish.

'Come on. Let's get you home.'

'Don' wanna.'

'You're dead on your feet.'

'Wanna stay... don' wanna-... don' wan' you t' disappear 'gain...'

'We can arrange to meet again. Why don't you just tell me where you live?'

'No... jus' take me... your place...'

Hermione felt Harry sigh by the rise of his chest, but it just made her want to snuggle into him even more. Even being dragged through a press of humanity couldn't keep her from trying it right then and there. She thought that she heard Harry talking to some people, but the club was still noisy so she could have been imagining it. It was followed by more being pulled along until a blast of cool, night air hit her in the face as the noise of the music abruptly cut off.

"Harry?" Hermione muttered, the sudden change rousing her from her drowsiness.

"Hang on. Just let me get us out of sight and we'll apparate back home."

" 'kay..."

They walked for a long time, or that's how it felt to Hermione at least. When they came to a stop she heard Harry's voice murmur in her ear: "Hold on tight. We're going."

Hermione squeezed Harry to her as hard as she could. Two seconds later she had to let him go as she collapsed to her knees, desperately trying not to empty her insides all over his floor. It was a close call, but she managed to not completely disgrace herself. By the time she was able to pay attention to anything other than her roiling stomach, Hermione discovered that a familiar hand was once again rubbing circles on her back. "Be 'right, Harry..." she slurred out.

"Okay. Let's get you up to bed."

After two and a half unsteady staggers, Hermione felt her feet leave the ground. Her weight rested comfortably against a warm body. Unfortunately, without her feet grounding her to tell her which way was up, her head began to spin nauseatingly. Desperate for any kind of anchor, her fingers dug into the cloth she was leaning against and the firm muscle beneath it. As long as she stayed aware that that warmth was next to her cheek the nausea was at least manageable.

This plan kept her stomach more or less in one place until she felt herself being lowered onto a soft surface; a surface that didn't carry that lovely warmth in it. Hermione opened her eyes for a moment and regretted it immediately as the world refused to stay still long enough for her to get her bearings. The one thing she saw that she could focus on was the pair of deep, leaf green eyes swiming in and out of focus above her. Harry? No, Harry's gone. The thought made her almost want to cry out in pain until other memories rose to meet it.

I- I saw Harry tonight? Was it a dream or is he really here? A part of Hermione's subconscious threw up an idea that almost made her vision stabilise through sheer shock value. What the hell, if it's a dream it won't matter anyway and I really wanna...

Hermione noticed that her shoes had been taken off and that a blanket was being pulled up over her. "Harry?" she slurred out, hoping that the dream hadn't ended yet. Those green eyes reappearing over her face brought a wave of relief that she wasn't too late. Before she could change her mind, Hermione flung her arms up to pull her dream down and firmly press her lips to his.

With a giggle, she rolled over. "Hihi, kiss-... kissed Har- Harry..." It was the last conscious thought she had as she drifted off into slumber, blissfully unaware of the shell-shocked expression that was staring down at her.

:-:-:-:-:

Hermione woke with a groan. Every part of ached, her mouth tasted foul and her eyes felt dry enough to crack. The late morning light burned her retinas and caused her to roll over with a whimper as she tried to avoid the sun's uncompromising rays.

A loud pop tempted her to try looking around once again, but the factor that ended up winning her over was the croak of a voice that spoke next to her. "Mistress, Master has sent Kreacher with a potion to help Mistress."

"Kreacher?" Hermione mumbled in confusion.

"Yes, Mistress. Please be taking the potion now."

A vial was pushed into Hermione's hand and she fumbled it open with clumsy fingers. Taking a deep breath she forced herself to swallow the entire contents of the vial in one go; it tasted as hideously as she had expected and a shiver ran down her spine as her tastebuds protested.

The process the potion started in her body wasn't any kind of fun either. She shivered and sweated as if she was suffering from a severe fever, but by the end of it her headache had disappeared along with most of the other symptoms.

Feeling safe in opening her eyes, Hermione risked a look around the room. "Am I at Grimmauld Place?" The very idea struck her as ridiculous. She hadn't interacted in any way, shape or form with the magical world for years. How would she have ended up in the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix of all places?

"Yes, Mistress. This is being Master Harry's home."

Harry?! What-... what happened last night? Hermione vaguely remembered that she had agreed to meet up with some classmates for a night out on the town and that she had intended to thoroughly put paid to her mother's matchmaking attempts, but somehow most of her memories were either blurry or entirely beyond her reach. "Kreacher, do you know how I got here?"

"Yes, Mistress. Master Harry is bringing Mistress home last night. Mistress couldn't walk so Master brings her up to bed and tucks her in. Mistress is then kissing Master. Is Mistress feeling better now?"

"K-k-k-kissed?!" Hermione squeaked as she felt her face flame.

"Yes, Mistress." Kreacher answered in a concerned tone of voice. "Should Kreacher be telling Master that Mistress is still not well?"

"No! I mean: no, I'll be fine." Hermione tried to calm herself while Kreacher's expression still contained some hints of worry for her. "Where is Harry right now?" she asked in an effort to distract the loyal old elf.

"Master is working in his study. Would Mistress like Kreacher to show her the way or would Mistress prefer breakfast first?"

Hermione's stomach let her know in no uncertain terms that her appetite wouldn't be resurfacing from wherever she'd drowned it anytime soon. "Could you take me to Harry?"

"Please be following Kreacher, Mistress."

Hermione nodded and stood up from the bed. She nearly collapsed again as a rather sour smell assaulted her nostrils. The discovery that she was the source of that smell brought Hermione to an abrupt halt. "Kreacher, I've changed my mind. Could you show me to a shower and maybe get me some clean clothes from my flat?"

Kreacher looked her up and down before nodding. "Bathroom is being through that door, Mistress. Kreacher will be getting clothes for Mistress now." The elf didn't wait for a response before popping out and leaving Hermione feeling like any other being might have called her slow for forgetting that most of the rooms in Grimmauld had en suite bathrooms.

Putting it out of her mind, Hermione just about dove for the shower and the chance to feel clean again. She took her time about cleaning herself off, luxuriating in the feel of warm water splashing down on her skin. By the time she got out, she felt nearly reborn.

While she'd been cleaning herself, a neatly folded pile of her clothes had appeared on a chair in the bathroom. Hermione got dressed quickly and hurried out of her room only to come to a stop in the hallway. Feeling a little ashamed at having to do so, she called for help. "Kreacher."

Kreacher appeared with a soft pop, already bowing. "What can Kreacher be doing for Mistress?"

"Could you show me to Harry now?"

"Kreacher does, Mistress," he replied with another bow before turning around and trotting off down the hall. Hermione found herself having to walk faster than usual to keep up with the much smaller elf. It didn't take long for them to reach a door that didn't look particularly different from any of the others in the house. Kreacher raised weathered old knuckles and rapped on it sharply.

"Yes?" a muffled, distracted voice called from inside.

Kreacher pushed the door open and bowed to, as far as Hermione could make out, Harry's back sitting in a chair. "Mistress has come to see Master."

Harry was up out of his chair in a flash and staring at his two visitors in the doorway. "You're up," he breathed out in relief. "Come in, come in." He scurried around his office, moving piles of parchment to create a space where both of them could sit.

Kreacher observed it all with an exasperated look. "Since Master insists on doing the cleaning, Kreacher shall fetch tea; ginger and chamomile for Mistress' stomach." The pop with which he disappeared managed to sound slightly accusing.

Harry stood, half bent over and with his hands full of parchment, looking at the spot where Kreacher had been standing with a pained expression. "I've upset him again."

"I think he'll forgive you," Hermione tried to cheer him up. "He was quite kind to me this morning."

Harry just shot her a rueful grin as he set his stack down on top of another, larger one on his desk, causing the whole thing to shift precariously. "Yeah, but I'll probably have to let him clean the whole house again to get back on his good side." Turning back to look at Hermione carefully, his eyes roved over her. Unlike with the boys she had met the night before whose inspection had made Hermione feel like she was being priced at an auction, Harry's eyes made her feel cared for as he looked for signs that she might be hiding any discomfort. "Kreacher said you have an upset stomach..."

Typical Harry. "I'll be fine, Harry. It's my own fault for drinking so much last night."

Harry's eyes darted over her again and Hermione was somewhat relieved that she could still read her friend like a book: he was getting ready to ask something he didn't think she'd want to answer. "So, um... why did you show up to a club already half plastered?"

Hermione sometimes regretted how well they knew each other, even after several years of not having spoken: she really didn't want to answer that too honestly. Oh hell, it's Harry. If I can't tell him, who can I tell?

"Just promise me you won't laugh, okay?" Hermione waited for Harry to nod his agreement before launching into her story. "Okay, well, did you tell me that your cousin was looking for a girlfriend for you? I mean, I think I remember something like that, but I'm about equally sure that I could have made it up."

"You remembered it right," Harry told her with a strange expression on his face.

"Oh good," Hermione gusted out in relief, sparing a brief thought to wonder why Harry was looking at her like that. "Well, let's just say my mother is doing something similar."

"Your mum was there last night?!" Harry's shock was obvious on his face and seemed to be mixed with a little bit of horror.

"No, no. I hardly think she'd approve. No, Mum's been trying to set me up with guys."

"Oh." Harry seemed utterly stumped for a reaction.

"Yeah, I know," Hermione agreed with a wry smile. "If that wasn't bad enough, every guy she introduces me to is... well, basically Dad."

"I heard once that we tend to fall in love with people who are like our parents..." Harry offered uncomfortably.

"This lot were a little too much like Dad," Hermione snorted. "And where did you hear that anyway?"

Harry muttered something that sounded a lot like 'Ginny'. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Unless the youngest Weasley had changed a lot since the last time Hermione had seen her, that would probably have been followed by some comparison between herself and Lily Potter. The Weasleys were a wonderful family, but about as subtle as a brick to the face.

"Forget I asked. To continue: I was so fed up with Mum picking potential boyfriends for me that I'd decided I wanted to find one that she definitely wouldn't approve of. You know, rub it in her face a little so that she'd leave me alone once I was single again. Last week I tried that place too, but I was apparently early and one of my classmates invited me along tonight." Hermione gave a shrug that was supposed to convey that Harry'd experienced most of the rest of the story.

"And the drinking?"

"Oh, that was supposed to save some money," Hermione admitted with a blush. Harry looked like she'd slapped him with a mackerel. "The texts cost a lot of money..." she tried to explain away her actions, hoping he would be kind enough not to point out that the girls could have saved even more money by not drinking at all.

Harry just shook himself and his expression became a lot more focused. "Hermione, I know you're not going to want to talk about it, but with all this stuff about boyfriends..." Oh no! He's going to want to know why I kissed him last night! "Why did you break up with Ron?"

"What?"

"Why did you break up with Ron? He's never been willing to tell me and since you were talking about finding a boyfriend, it just reminded that you and he... you know..."

Hermione considered simply telling Harry that it was none of his dratted business why she and Ron had broken up. A small but insistent part of her kept bringing up that that wasn't really a fair reaction. Besides, I think Harry would understand.

"He asked me to choose." Hermione finally admitted curtly. Seeing Harry about to ask what the choices had been, she preempted him. "He said that it was university or him."

Harry was quiet for a long time before his face sank slowly into his hands with an exasperated groan. "No wonder he'd never tell me. What an idiot."

"Excuse me?" Hermione wondered. Did I hear that right?

"He's an idiot. Anyone who's known you for a day would be able to predict how you'd react to that particular ultimatum." Harry's face came up to look at Hermione like he'd never seen her before, only to shake his head and let it sink back into his hands.

While there was something endearing about Harry's reaction more or less confirming to Hermione that she'd made the right choice all those years ago, she was more than happy to see Kreacher popping in with the promised tea. Sipping the soothing beverage gave her a chance to get her thoughts in order.

"So... how's the university life?" Harry asked, clearly trying to move them past this awkward moment as he also sipped his own tea.

Hermione smiled broadly and began telling her friend all about the things she was learning. She'd never realised how much she'd missed the honest smile on his face as he listened to her talk. It wasn't until Kreacher popped in to ask if she'd be staying for dinner that Hermione realised how long she'd been sitting there telling Harry about how her history studies gave her the chance to learn about how the magical and non-magical had lived side by side in the past.

"Oh, Harry. I'm sorry to dash, I really am, but I still have an essay to write and I should do at least some housekeeping before the weekend completely runs out on me."

"It's fine, Hermione. I never took you off the wards so you can just pop in any time." Harry's face suddenly flushed. "Um, I mean, you know... if you want to?"

"Yes!" Hermione cried happily pulling him into a hug. Harry looked relieved that she still wanted to keep in touch and Hermione ruthlessly crushed the tendril of guilt working its way into her gut. I'm looking forward. I won't let us lose touch again.

It took Hermione another ten minutes to apparate to a street just around the corner from the college. Leaving Harry after finding him again had been more difficult than she'd thought and only agreeing that they would meet again next weekend to continue catching up had given her enough peace of mind to let him out of her sight.

Taking care to enter through the front gate so that one of the porters would see her coming home, Hermione made her way up to her dorm. Upon reaching the room that had been her home for the past several months, she collapsed face-down on the bed and let out a long sigh. She should do her laundry. She should get some work done on her essay. There were groceries to be done.

She wanted none of it. The only thing she wanted was to go right back to the place she had just left.

Rolling over onto her back Hermione flung an arm over her eyes, not ready to face the world until her heart stopped screaming at her. What am I doing? she wondered to herself. She'd rarely had problems keeping a schedule she'd resolved herself to. How is it that meeting him immediately has me procrastinating? Still, she didn't move.

Eventually, Hermione's listless moping was disturbed by a thunderous knocking on her door. It was so loud and unexpected that she was on her feet with her wand in her hand before her conscious mind caught up to her body. Taking a deep breath she edged closer to the door and looked out through the peephole.

"Hermione! Open up! We know you're in there!" Jess's voice called out from the other side of the door.

Hermione quickly hid her wand up her sleeve and opened the door to see the four girls who had taken her to the club the night before. "How did you guys know I was in?"

"We saw you walking through the courtyard." Samantha grinned. "So? Are you going to let us in?"

"Oh! Sorry, do come in."

It didn't take long for everyone to arrange themselves in a manner similar to the one they had been in, in Samantha's room. Four sets of eager eyes were glinting mischievously at Hermione and the thought that this might have been a bad idea began rooting around in the back of her mind.

"So?" Samantha asked.

"Um... so what?"

"So what?!" Jess exclaimed. "So you left the club in the arms of sex appeal given human form last night and you only just got back! I want details!"

"Jess, calm down," Alice reprimanded with a smile. "Seriously though, Hermione. What happened after you left?"

"I- it's a little fuzzy," Hermione admitted.

"You at least remember the sex though, right?" Jess almost begged.

Hermione's cheeks lit up like Bonfire Night. "Harry and I didn't have sex last night," she squeaked out.

"What?!" Jess' mouth was swinging open in disbelief.

"Do you know how drunk I was?" Hermione reminded the other girl in near equal disbelief. "Harry's not the type who would have taken advantage of that."

"I still can't believe that 'His Hotness' turned out to be some childhood friend of yours," Mandy sighed.

"I know," Samantha chuckled. "All I could think when the two of you first started hugging was 'I thought she bloody well wanted to start slow'."

"Hmph, if you're not going to give us smutty, smutty details I suppose I'll have to settle for you telling us more about my future husband," Jess smirked.

Hermione could only stare at her. "Future husband?"

"Hey, if you're not taking him, I am," Jess teased with a wink. "Come on, tell us who this guy is that we've all been mooning after for months now."

Hermione decided that while she herself might personally be ill-equipped to deal with girls like Jess, her classmate didn't seem to have any malicious intent behind the way she was acting. Taking a moment to order her thoughts so that she wouldn't reveal anything that she wasn't supposed to, Hermione began to tell her new friends about her time at school.

The troll became a feral dog, the basilisk was simply left as a large snake and the Triwizard Tournament became more of an obstacle course. The war was left out entirely. As Hermione ended her story with going off to university to gain her parents' approval, carefully leaving out what might have happened to earn their disapproval in the first place, a thick silence settled over the room. Hermione decided that it was probably for the best if she just let the other girls digest what she'd told them.

"So what you're basically telling me," Samantha mused out loud, "is that this Harry is not only gorgeous, he's also rich, brave and sweet as all hell?"

"And that she knew him ever since they were little and hadn't seen each other for a few years!" Alice hastened to remind everyone.

It was completely quiet for a moment as everyone absorbed that summary. "I'm so jealous," Mandy broke the silence with a moan.

"Yeah, we never stood a chance," Jess agreed.

"What are you all talking about?" Hermione received four highly sceptical stares for her question. "What?"

"Are you trying to feed us a story about the two of you not being in love?" Alice asked sardonically.

"We're just best friends..." Hermione protested, her voice not carrying the same authority it might have if the question had been about one of her classes.

Three distinct snorts could be heard. "Hermione, you're a nice girl and all, but even a deaf man could have heard the lie there," Samantha commiserated.

"Yeah, 'just friends'..." Jess managed before the group dissolved into giggles. "Anyone who looked at you could definitely see 'just friends'."

"Don't pout, Hermione," Alice snorted at the expression Hermione realised she must be wearing and immediately set about smoothing out. "So, you're attracted to this guy and it certainly looks like he's attracted to you. What do you have to be moping about?"

"You don't understand," Hermione protested. "Back at school girls were forever throwing themselves at Harry and he hated it."

"At least you're admitting that you're attracted to him," Mandy muttered, just loud enough that everyone could hear. Hermione felt heat rush to her cheeks and opened her mouth, but Mandy just ploughed straight on. "Besides, what makes you think that any boy would hate that kind of attention? Especially when they're going through puberty?"

Hermione was already shaking her head before Mandy had completely finished. "Harry knew that they didn't see him as a person, just as some kind of... fantasy model. I told you that his parents died when he was really young, right?" Four heads nodded in agreement. "Well, people who knew his parents have told him how wonderful and in love with each other they were. A lot of it was probably embellished for the sake of a hurting child or even just misremembered, but those stories were all he had to hold on to. His aunt and uncle who raised him don't seem to have shown him a lot of care and, well, he's begun idealising what a relationship should be. Someone who could see him as 'just Harry' was a big part of that."

"You see him like that though, don't you?" Samantha asked with a knowing smile.

"I-..."

"Harry certainly seems to think that you do," Mandy smirked.

"That or he's always stared at you like he wants to kiss you until even you can't think straight anymore." Jess grinned.

Kissing again? "He-..."

"When are you seeing him again?" Alice piled on.

"Harry said I could stop by his place whenever I liked... Wait! That's not the important bit!"

"I kind of think it is, Hermione," Samantha sounded almost apologetic. "Would he have offered that same privilege to any of those girls who used to throw themselves at him?"

"No..." Hermione admitted, steeling herself for the trap that was about to slam shut on her.

"I think that, for some reason I can't see, you've convinced yourself that he's still a little twelve-year-old. Someone who needs you to look out for him and keep him safe. Looking at the two of you together, well: I think that you need to get used to both of you drawing on each other. From what I could see, neither of you will be happy if you don't."

Hermione had known that some kind of argument that she and Harry should get together had been coming; she'd even been sure that she'd be able to riposte it easily enough. Something about Samantha's words just landed like a hammer-blow though and left her unable to respond.

She was vaguely aware of Jess opening her mouth and being shushed by Samantha and Alice before anything could come out.

"Hermione, we'll show ourselves out. Just... just think it over, okay?" Samantha said, quietly as if she was in a library. The other girls muttered similarly quiet goodbyes as they made their way over to the door and left.

Hermione couldn't move. She was stuck, sitting there on her own desk, frozen in place by thoughts that she hadn't allowed herself for years, if she'd ever even thought them before.

By the time she moved, her dilemmas hadn't been resolved in the slightest, but the diminishing summer sunlight was forcing her to move. The books she'd set out on her desk so that she would be able to start her research for her essay only rated a helplessly distracted look. Maybe the best thing I can do is call it an early night Hermione thought to herself. Maybe it will all make sense in the morning.

:-:-:-:-:

Two hours later Hermione was still awake, staring at the point where her ceiling was hiding in the dark. Two hours that had convinced her that no amount of tossing and turning was going to help her get to sleep tonight. Her insomnia wasn't much of a mystery: every time she closed her eyes, determined to offer up her consciousness in exchange for a good rest, that same consciousness insisted on dancing around Harry Potter.

Drat! How am I supposed to fall asleep like this?! It's not strange to be thinking about Harry right? I mean we just met for the first time in years. Hermione's thoughts didn't particularly help her in getting to sleep. It almost seemed as if the more she tried not to think about the dark-haired, green-eyed wizard who had first taught her about friendship, the more he became entrenched in her thoughts.

Argh! How am I supposed to fall asleep like this?!

It took quite a bit more tossing and turning before Hermione admitted to herself that she needed to take some kind of action. Alright. What can I do? I could make some Dreamless Sleep Potion... no that would take all night, rather defeating the whole purpose... warm milk with honey? No, that has enough sugar in it that I'd have an even harder time falling asleep.

As these thoughts raced through Hermione's head there was another. It felt almost like an interloper, except that Hermione had mastered Occlumency during the war and knew that there was no touch of a foreign mind affecting her. Dismissing this thought as mere fancy refused to work; the more she tried, the more Hermione yearned for the images her mind was showing her. I need to go find Harry. If I find Harry, I'll be able to get some peace of mind and fall asleep.

The idea of running off to find Harry after she'd said goodbye to him just that evening struck Hermione as somehow wrong. She had managed without him for years, there was no way she'd need him within just a few hours of seeing him again. Unfortunately, her mind wouldn't let this idea go.

Fine! Fine, I'll just go and see him. Apparating into Grimmauld Place's entrance hall should be more than enough to cure this... this... this irrationality! Still fuming at her own emotional state, Hermione flung back the covers forcefully and yanked on her dressing gown. Tying off the sash, she concentrated on Grimmauld Place and her desire to get there.

An uncomfortable pop later Hermione found herself faced with a dark expanse and the silence of a house that had sunken into sleep. For a moment she just stood there, expecting the embarrassment of apparating into a friend's house in the middle of the night would crash into her and force her home to her own bed. It didn't come. Hermione felt a childish urge to stamp her foot in frustration, countered by an even stronger urge to keep from breaking the silence of the house around her. It turned out that whether or not the silence would be broken wasn't up to her.

"Mistress?" Kreacher's voice croaked out, heavy with sleep. "What is Mistress doing here?"

Hermione tried to answer, but the words wouldn't form on her lips. Kreacher's eyes roved over her as he tried to ascertain any needs he might be required to fill. His eyes widening in understanding didn't fill Hermione with any confidence.

"Master is upstairs, Mistress. Up two flights of stairs and through the double doors at the end of the hallway. Would Mistress like Kreacher to show her the way?" His expectant expression was more than Hermione could take right now.

"No..." she squeaked out, wishing that her voice sounded somehow less nervous.

"As Mistress wishes." Kreacher agreed with a bow, popping out in his pronated position. This left Hermione in the same situation she'd been in when she arrived, with one exception: she was now hyper-aware of the fact that Harry was sleeping just a few metres above her.

Almost against her will, Hermione's feet began carrying her up the stairs. She hesitated for a split second upon reaching the first landing, but it barely amounted to more than a stutter-step as she soon found herself ascending the second flight.

Hermione's last chance to stop herself came when she was standing in front of the double doors that Kreacher had described, with her hand resting on the doorknob. I shouldn't be doing this... she thought as she watched herself opening the door as if she was a spectator to her own actions. The door didn't let out even a hint of a creak as she opened it and Hermione found herself considering that she might have to thank Kreacher for his work in keeping up the house as well as he did.

Stepping into the darkness that lay behind the open door Hermione felt her senses stretch themselves to the limit as her mind tried to discover what it could about the room she was in while her body prepared itself to bolt if anything should come out of the darkness. Step by step she made her way over to a large mass that was a deeper shade of shadow until she found herself standing next to a large, king-size bed; a large, king-size bed with her best friend in it.

Hermione's hand moved, carrying her wand and still borne by the same instincts that had brought her up here; instincts that she couldn't, or rather was afraid to, understand.

"Lumos" she whispered, concentrating on keeping the light as dim as she could, hoping that she could keep from waking Harry. Not only would she feel bad for disturbing him, but it seemed very important right now that she see his sleeping face.

The vinewood wand responded to her wishes, barely casting more light than a firefly. Hermione leaned over the bed, moving the light up Harry's sleeping body until it revealed shaggy, black hair against a clean, white pillow. Changing the angle of her wand presented Hermione with a sight that made her sigh out in contentment: Harry's face in a state of rare relaxation. It was a sight she wanted more of and Hermione found herself leaning forward to study it in more detail. Her free hand came up and brushed a strand of Harry's messy hair out of his face.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" The shock of a steel grip coming around her wrist and a pair of green eyes snapping open to shoot a fierce glare at her tore a scream from Hermione's throat.

Harry blinked as he processed her scream before squinting up at her. "Hermi'ne?" he wondered in sleep-slurred confusion.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered out frantically, hoping that he wouldn't regret running into her the night before. "I just- I couldn't sleep."

Harry muttered something unintelligible under his breath as he dropped her wrist and lifted up one corner of his sheets. Hermione stared at him in disbelief, unable to reconcile what she was seeing, what she wanted and what it might all mean.

"Like having Teddy here..." Harry grouched. "Well? Get in."

I'll just get in for a moment. I can just slip out again after he falls asleep and this way it won't feel like I woke him for nothing. Hermione thought to herself as she let her dressing gown slip from her shoulders and pool on the ground by her feet.

Oh. Oh, this is very nice. Hermione didn't know what she'd been expecting, but when Harry released the corner of the sheet he'd been holding up she felt herself being cocooned by warmth and a smell that refused to be described as anything other than 'Harry'. The mattress moved under her as Harry shifted himself to get comfortable and Hermione's breath caught in her throat for a split second. She found herself listening carefully to Harry's breathing as it evened out again.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out. The part of her mind in favour of leaving once she was sure that Harry was asleep became smaller and quieter with each breath. In the end, Hermione completely stopped hearing that little voice in the back of her mind as her eyes slid shut and she drifted off to sleep.

:-:-:-:-:

Hermione's brow furrowed and she squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could. Something had woken her from the best night's sleep she could remember having since Hogwarts and she wasn't ready to surrender to the call of the morning just yet. Now, if only her mattress would stop shifting about, she was sure that she could get in a few more minutes of that exquisite, blissful unconsciousness.

Wait... why would my mattress be moving at all? The thought was unnerving enough that Hermione acceded to opening one eye to take a careful look around. If it was just one eye that wouldn't count as really waking up after all; right?

Peeking through her eyelashes, Hermione came to the conclusion that it wasn't quite her mattress that had shifted; it was her pillow. A pillow that appeared to be wearing a t-shirt. A pillow that had a neck attached to it. A pillow whose neck led her up to Harry's face; Harry's face twisted into confusion and concern.

"Eeep!" Hermione froze, both eyes flying open, as she stared at those emerald eyes watching her; patiently watching her; inquisitively watching her. Say something! she screamed at herself.

"Hermione?" She could feel Harry's voice rumbling up through his chest before the words washed over her ears, making her all the more aware of the way she'd pressed up against him during the night. "What are you doing here?"

"I- I came to see you?"

"At the arse crack of dawn?" he asked, laughter hiding just behind his voice.

"No! I came over last night," Hermione retorted. The words had only just left her lips when she felt an urge to slap herself. Why did I admit to that?!

Harry could have laughed at her, but instead, Hermione found herself pinned to her pillow by a concerned gaze. "Are you alright?"

"... couldn't sleep..." she admitted breathlessly, still staring into his eyes.

"And coming here helped?"

"Yes, it did, but I really should get going now. I really do need to do some cleaning and writing. I didn't get nearly enough of that done yesterday," Hermione protested, vainly trying to get one of her limbs to throw the covers off so she could roll out of bed. A more honest part of her admitted that she was entirely too comfortable to even attempt getting up.

Behind Hermione, a soft pop sounded. "Mistress' room be needing cleaning? Kreacher shall do. Mistress must stay here and rest."

Hermione whipped around to reassure the old elf that there was no reason for him to such a thing and that she was, despite her out of character procrastination the day before, more than capable of seeing to her own housekeeping. She was just fast enough to see him popping out of existence. "Harry! Call him back!" Hermione exclaimed in dismay. "Tell him that he doesn't need to clean my house."

Harry was already sinking back into his pillow and shot her a sardonic look. "He'd probably listen if you called him. He's been calling you 'Mistress' ever since you showed up here. Speaking of which: I know I said you could drop by 'whenever' but I wasn't expecting the middle of the night."

"Blast it all, Harry! Will you be serious?!"

For a moment Harry looked like he was about to use Padfoot's favourite joke, but in the end he just shook his head. "I was being serious, Hermione. I have every confidence that you could call Kreacher. If you do I'm siccing him on you for the rest of the week though."

"What?! Why?!"

"So that you get to live with him pouting for being stopped mid-cleaning. You saw him in my office yesterday. I'm not adding another cleaning interruption to that."

Hermione considered calling for Kreacher for a moment longer. Unfortunately, she was fairly sure that Harry would do exactly what he had threatened and having a house elf moping around her dorm room was just begging to break the statute of secrecy.

"Hermione?" Harry's voice drifted up.

"What?" she sighed back, unwilling to let him know that he'd gotten her to the point where she was considering letting an elf work for her.

"Stop pouting and lie back down. We're going to enjoy this lie in since you disrupted my sleep last night."

"Wait?! You remember what happened?!" Hermione exclaimed, all thoughts on the morality of having Kreacher clean her room flushed from her mind by a wave of indignant embarrassment.

She allowed herself to imagine that she could feel those chuckles vibrate through the mattress. "No, I just guessed." Harry chortled. He pulled on her arm and Hermione snuggled down next to him with a lot less reluctance than she'd been hoping to display. He and his bed have no right to be so dratted comfy. "So, should I just start pencilling you in every night from midnight to dawn?"

Hermione knew she was being teased and just wriggled around until she'd found the spot on his shoulder she'd woken up on. "If you're going to insist on lie-ins, then I don't think 'dawn' will work for very long," she smirked up at him once she'd found it.

She hadn't expected Harry to smile back down at her, and kiss her forehead. "I can do longer." he murmured, his voice doing funny things to Hermione's insides; funny things that she firmly ignored as she closed her eyes and just enjoyed having her best friend's arms around her. The one thought that she allowed to gain any traction before letting drowsiness claim her once again was: I think I'll hide him from Mum for a while. Seeing her face will be even better if he's actually my boyfriend, as opposed to someone I sort of slept with. At the very least I want a kiss that we're both lucid for.

For the time being, she'd just have to make do with shocking her new friends into mute amazement when she told them about where she'd woken up and she was sure that would keep her until at least the end of the semester.

The End

AN:

Hidden Rooms is an actual bar in Cambridge. I probably haven't been there before (I thought I went to one called the Hole when I visited, but for the life of me I couldn't find it on Google... so I guess I'm saying don't drink in excess?).

Unlike what the majority of my readers likely imagine with a university: Cambridge has several colleges. These are basically charities that house and organise tuition of students. Some have restrictions on who they take (like "only women" or "only post-graduates"). They're also responsible for admissions.

A massive thanks to my little sister and big beta Ursa Minor. Who else would listen to me snark about what the characters are doing to my story?

And thank you to you for reading. I'll see you on the next one.

LeQuin