Ignorance with Repercussions

Disclaimer: Nope don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: Just something to get this account going. Enjoy? Yes? No?

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Hermione was being tempted. Oh so very tempted with Harry sitting in a common room chair, idly mussing with his already messy black bangs as he worked on an essay. She wondered how anyone could be getting work done when hair like that shielded their brilliant emerald eyes. Her strongest desire was what she unknowingly stared at, just like at the moment and how she noticed he was slightly pursing his lips from concentration.

The desire would rise during mealtimes when Harry would get a bit of food or treacle pudding on his lips and he would slowly, tortuously lick it off before grinning sheepishly at her when he caught her eye. She could have died at the mere sight. After she realizes what she had been staring at, she would file through all the possible curses she could hex herself with if she thought of such things again. She can only guess how many hexes she'd piled up against herself at this point.

Of course the more logical part of The Brightest Witch of her Age reasoned it was impossible, improbable, and highly inappropriate. Harry would never notice his best friend, his plain, boring, and completely platonic best friend. He once had his eyes on the smart, beautiful Cho Chang but he had moved on, much to her secret pleasure. But to her dismay his latest interest was currently possibly to her closest girl friend, Ginny Weasley, and that's what made all her temptations and desires dissipate entirely.

She knew the redhead had had a crush on him since before she even met him, and she would not ruin her chances for happiness with Harry. And if Harry was happy, Hermione would be as well. She couldn't bear to risk her friendship with Ginny and most definitely not with Harry. She would stay as his loyal best friend forever if that was what made him most happy. Even if she had to take her secret to the grave, as long as Harry was content she would ignore the deep stabs in her chest.

Hermione had already decided long ago she would not tip the scale she, Harry, and Ron had preciously formed during their first year at Hogwarts. Hermione became accustomed to ignoring the longing wants she felt when she was near him. Learned to will her body to stop glancing up from her schoolwork to simply marvel at him and their proximity. She even learned how hard it was to control her emotions and push them aside to remain only as the clever bookworm friend of Harry Potter.

Here she was now, dutifully scribbling away with her quill about the proper uses of aconite and wormwood along with their importance for Snape's latest essay assignment. Hermione looked back at Harry, still working on his essay and no doubt knowing by the slightly relaxed look on his face that he would soon be done and would ask her to read it over for him. She suppressed a yawn and set down her quill, finished with her own.

Suddenly aware of how warm and quiet the common room was, Hermione let vague thoughts drift through her mind as a sort of breather, having worked for hours straight. It was something Harry enforced upon her, furious that she had never took even a minute to relax. She eventually gave him her word that she would take small breaks after much stubborn arguing.

Her first thought was strong, protective arms encircling her and pulling her close as the room filled with heat. Not furious heat, but heated passion when she willed her eyes to look up into dark, hazy green ones that she could recognize anywhere. Hermione, Harry called and she shivered from his breathy tone. He spoke her name again before she felt his lips come in contact with hers. Oh, she dreamed of the feeling so often and relished that Harry continued to call out her name between sweet kisses…

"Hermione," Harry whispered roughly, shaking her shoulder to ease her out of sleep.

He was getting worried when she began to whimper and mumble nonsense in her sleep. He stayed up to wait for Hermione to wake up while doing homework to pass the time, but she had been asleep for hours now and he thought it was enough of a nap before it turned into an overnight slumber.

Harry had gently picked up Hermione's slumped form at the table and lightly set her down on one of the sofas, figuring it would be more suitable for sleeping activities. Not those kinds of activities, he clarified to himself. He knew her well enough that she wouldn't take naps while there was still work to be done and believed her studies and exhaustion had finally caught up with her.

His lips curved to a frown when he took in the state she was in. The smallest of bags under her eyes that ruined her fair smooth skin, how her amber eyes were weary and drained from constantly staring at scrolls when she was awake… the way her facial features seemed so relaxed as she dreamt, how the hearth seemed to simply make her skin glow and make her even more striking…

He couldn't do it, couldn't rest his feelings when it concerned her. Cho, although had been a nice distraction, measured up to nothing when he compared her to Hermione. He was thick, he'll admit, but that didn't mean he didn't notice that as his eyes unconsciously lingered on Hermione a little longer than necessary, Ginny's eyes were on him. He didn't have the heart to reject her or approach her about the subject, knowing that she had always been attracted to him for Merlin knows how long. But he couldn't be with her and ignore what he felt for Hermione.

The revelation that he felt more for his best friend than just platonic love had been a scary thought for him when he was staring at her once and the idea came to his mind. He tried his best to pass it off as like the care and worry of a brother, but it wasn't so simple. Daily reminders always came when she smiled at him and his stomach would flitter with an uncontrollable feeling.

There were surges of happiness when she would grab hold of his arm or hand when she was afraid, enjoying the fact she depended on him as much as he depended on her. The moments of frustration he endured when no one else understood him except for Hermione. It had always been Hermione. Her voice as his conscience, her unwavering concern for him making him want to make things right, how perfect she was in every way.

"Hermione…" he tried again in a more pleading tone, his breath a warm ghost on her ear as he leaned close.

Her eyelids fluttered, blinking away the sleep before looking dazedly back at him with a small smile, reliving her dream by looking into his eyes. The small moment of bliss evaporated not a second later when her eyes widened and grew frantic. She couldn't believe she had fallen asleep while she still had to touch up on arithmancy and finish translating runes

Hermione attempted to rush over to her table to collect her materials and finish them hopefully before morning came. But Harry was quicker than that, knowing from the flick of her eyes that she wanted so dearly to be reunited with her work. Still partially towering over her, Harry easily pushed her back down onto the sofa. She looked at him, bewilderment and anger flashing in her eyes. Both of them knew Hermione would do almost anything to ensure all her assignments were on time and flawless, if not done early.

"Nice nap?" Harry asked her quietly, his breath hot on her neck as he was dangerously too close to her.

She could only give him the smallest of nods, dumbstruck. Hermione just knew he was hoping to dissuade her from thinking about schoolwork. It was now Sunday, a quarter past midnight, according to the clock ticking away on the far wall. She could easily afford not to have everything prim and ready until Sunday evening. But she would not stand for it. Yet her stomach said otherwise, knotting itself into an unsolvable tangle flitting with butterflies as her throat tightened.

Harry's concerned but playful eyes lay right in front of her as he moved his head to be staring right back at her. Into her. But not through her heart, she hoped. Hermione wanted to blame the slow burning fire for the heat that stained her cheeks as she was unsure of where to look at. His dark eyes holding an emotion that she, alarmingly, couldn't quite grasp? The small tongue that peaked from his lips that tantalizingly licked its way across? Or the contours of his face being prominently outlined by the dim lighting?

She only vaguely comprehended she whispered his name, the syllables barely escaping her lips, but he heard it. And she knew it. She knew and she knew she couldn't take back how breathy her tone was or how much she realized she needed him to know. All the suppressed feelings she had been keeping from him.

"I think it's time for bed, Hermione." Harry said softly, slowly easing up from her body. There was an edge to his words that she couldn't quite place her finger on.

"I know you're tired, but I don't fancy trying to carry you up to the girl's dormitory and have the staircase transform into a slide." he joked, making her unable to stop the twitch of her upper lip, wanting to rise and form a smile only he could ever bring out.

Before he could fully rise, she instinctively grabbed hold of his sleeve. She gasped and averted her eyes, but it didn't stop the words from tumbling out of her pink lips.

"Can you stay with me for a bit? I don't think I want to head up just yet." Hermione held her breath, waiting for him to reject her request and insist she head off to bed and that he would take care of her things on the table. He was always sweet like that to her, always ensuring that she was well-taken care of and didn't need to worry about such trivial things. She always did anyways.

He nodded, knowing she couldn't see from her position and shifted on the sofa, placing himself comfortably beside Hermione and resting his head above her own. She tensed at the gesture before easing back into his side, feeling the most content she had been in the last few weeks.

"Why'd you stay up so late? Everyone is off at bed, you know." Hermione asked, striking up a conversation between the two of them, trying desperately to disregard the temptations bubbling within her.

"I wanted to wait for you, but in the end I had to take matters into my own hands." he said cheekily, almost as if he was pinning the blame on her.

She scoffed but said seriously, "You didn't have to wait for me, you could have gone off to bed like any other sane person."

Harry looked at her with mock serious to match her own tone, noses barely touching. "But I reckon no one would want to see a bookworm drooling on her homework when they get up for Sunday breakfast."

There was a small laugh before one of them got playfully hit by a small fist on the chest. "Don't be a prat." she told him, earning a light humored laugh from her best friend that tickled her ear. Hermione sucked in a breath, seeing how much distance was between them now. It was more like how much space there wasn't between them. Just a little bit more and their lips could chastely touch.

She couldn't handle the strain anymore by refusing herself. Her mind and body was completely giving in to what they had been demanding since long ago and hesitantly made her pink lips come closer to his. Speed seemed to be against her when Harry had beat her to it, his soft lips on hers before her mind could even register what had occurred.

Their eyes were already shut as their lips used their time well on the others, slow and heated and passionate between the two. The kiss made her tingle from her stomach to her lips, an agonizing and enticing feeling. It was sweet and better than anything Hermione could have imagined. Reality had to create an end and beat upon them when air became a necessity. Harry did a swift swipe with his tongue across her lower lip before pulling away, making her create a soft noise she didn't know she was capable of and crave more from him.

A companionable silence came across them and she could just taste the unspoken words and questions lingering in the air. How long had he felt that way? How long had she been thinking of kissing her best friend? What did anything matter, now that they both knew they had one another after the kiss had confirmed anything that wasn't. Nothing seemed to matter now as they stared into the other's eyes, able to read the thoughts flashing across emerald and amber.

"I… how long?"

It was Harry that broke the silence. There was a silent question under it, she could tell just by looking at him. What about Ron? She almost wanted to hex him for how daft he could really be about a girl's feelings, but she still loved him for it. Although her act could have been too convincing for her own good throughout the years.

"A while," she whispered, as if any louder could ruin the delicate atmosphere in the room. "I could say the same for you." She hoped he could get her hint about both questions, in his case the only female Weasley. He did, thankfully.

"Always been you, I reckon. I was shocked when I found out a while ago too." He admitted. "But I did figure it out all on my own." he teased, referring to how he usually always needed her help to figure out anything.

She laid her head back down on his shoulder and closed her eyes. The feelings were reciprocated, and it wasn't just platonically. Relief swelled through her as Harry brought her closer to his warm body with his arms.

"Can we stay down here? I don't think you want to try to carry me up the girl's dormitory." she asked again, this time using his own words. Harry made an agreeing sound, tired himself. "You make a nice pillow too." she added, yawning. She snuggled closer to him, welcoming the warmth he provided.

Right now she was content that she had Harry beside her and that she had finally gotten what she wanted, falling asleep quietly dreaming about what she loved most. In the morning, she added to herself in an afterthought, she would worry about what the other Gryffindors will say when they come down for Sunday breakfast.