FicWad

“I’M IN WHAT?
Alorkin

I do not own Harry Potter (et al). That privilege goes to the talented and lovely J. K. Rowling, to whom I am eternally grateful, both for a fascinating read, and many bedtime stories for my daughter.

Spoilers: none. This is an AU where Dumbledore is actually interested in his students welfare, rather than the manipulative asshole he is in canon…at least not really.

Umbridge is also absent, having suffered a fatal ‘accident’…somewhere else.

Since this was written back on 05, just before my comp took a long vacation, and my Guru was called out of retirement to go play in the sandbox, I include none of the stupidity of books six or seven.



Harry pushed the heavy oak door to Dumbledore’s office inward. The headmaster raised his eyes from the tome he had been perusing.

“Erm…Professor? Might I have a word?” Harry asked, clearly disturbed.

“Of course, Harry. Do come in, please.” Albus Dumbledore smiled at his most important, and usually most controversial, student.

Harry entered the circular space, noting absently that the portraits of the former heads of the school were pretending to be asleep.

“Please, have a seat, Harry.” Dumbledore gestured to a chair before the big desk. Harry sank into the big chair. He had sat in this chair before, many times over the past few years. Usually after being involved in some kind of trouble or other. “Would you care for a lemon drop?” Dumbledore asked.

“Erm…no thanks, Professor. I came here because I think Voldemort is messing with me again.”

“Is your scar hurting again?” Dumbledore was understandably curious. Voldemort’s connection to Harry, through that scar, had been a source of much concern to the headmaster of Hogwarts.

“No, sir. It’s…something else, a lot of different things, really.”

“Do tell. What exactly is the problem?”

“Well, like I said, it’s a lot of things.”

“Such as?”

“Well, lately, um, I’ve have been having difficulty concentrating on anything…almost everything.”

“Go on.” Dumbledore smiled minutely. He had an idea already where Harry’s problem lay.

“I can’t sleep, I never feel like eating. My heart pounds so. Sometimes it seems to stop. My stomach is all twisted and…well, I think that’s it.”

“Hmmmm. Might I have a peek inside your head, Harry?”

“Sure…if you think it will help.” Harry leaned toward the desk leaning his elbows on the mahogany surface.

Dumbledore reached out and touched A long finger to Harry’s forehead and whispered: “Legilimens”. Instantly, Harry’s mind opened to him. The first thing he saw was a disorganized montage of images, all featuring the same person. Untamed cinnamon hair surrounded a pale face with a few scattered freckles, and warm hazel eyes.

Dumbledore withdrew swiftly, gently breaking the contact.

“Harry, I do not believe Lord Voldemort is involved in this particular sort of difficulty. Perhaps it would be best if you went to the hospital wing and spoke with Madam Pomfrey. I believe she can answer your questions far better than I.”

“Bit, Sir…I…!”

“The answers you want will be better found there. Good day to you.”

Annoyed at the abrupt dismissal, Harry left the headmaster’s office, in a huff.

Behind him, Dumbledore walked to the staff room where he uncovered the large board, covered in wagers. Locating his target, he placed ten Galleons on the two squares showing that date and the next. He noticed both Minerva and Poppy had made the same bet, on the square marked for that week.

On his way to the hospital wing Harry met up with his best friends, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Instantly, Harry’s heart began to thump loudly. Harry stopped and leaned against the wall, holding his hand to his chest.

“Harry!” Hermione yelped, rushing to his side. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know! I think Dumbledore does, but the stupid prat won’t tell me! He says I have to go to see Madam Pomfrey.”

“Let’s get you there, now.” Hermione insisted. “We have to find out what’s wrong with you.” As Hermione grasped his hand, Harry’s heart went into overtime. ‘I must really be sick!’ was his only thought.

Together the three of them made their way to the hospital wing, only to find an impatient Madam Pomfrey waiting for them.


“Ah…Mister Potter. The headmaster told me to expect you.” She greeted. “You two have classes.” The order was clear. Ron said “So long chum.” Hermione waited a moment, the brushed her hand against his cheek, causing further palpitations of his heart, and whispered: “You’ll be fine, Harry.”. Then she too, turned and raced down the hallway.


“Tell me mister Potter. What seems to be troubling you?” Madam Pomfrey asked, not ungently. Harry sat at the desk, and began to recount his symptoms.

“…And I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, my stomach is all twisted in knots all the time, and I always feel like I’m gonna vomit. I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” Harry finished his rant, and stared into the silence.

Smiling, Madam Pomfrey touched Harry’s shoulder. “Do you dream of her?”

“All the time…” He glumly replied. Then his eyes widened in shock at his admission.

“Hold on! Dream of who?”

“Well, knowing you as well as I do, I’d have to say it was either Hermione Granger, or Ginny Weasley. “I’m putting my money on miss Granger.” She smirked knowingly.

At his confused glare, Poppy smiled gently.

“Harry, there’s nothing wrong with you that hasn’t gone wrong with every boy…and girl since time began. You are in love!”

“I’m in what?” Harry yelped.

“You are in love.” Madam Pomfrey replied.

“I’m in love with Hermi…with someone?”

“Say it Harry. Her name is…” Poppy teased out the last word. Harry hung his head, and whispered: “Hermione.”

“It seems, I win.”

“But I can’t be in love with Hermione! She’s my best mate. Oh, God! Ron! He’s my best mate too. What will this do to our friendship?”

“Harry, we cannot choose those we fall in love with. That is a magic beyond even the greatest of wizarding powers. Nature will take its course, and if you are very fortunate, you will find the one who makes you complete. In your case, I believe that person is Hermione Granger.”

“But what about Ron? He’ll be crushed. He’s loved her for ages! What do I do about Hermione? What if she thinks I’m a prat? What if she doesn’t love me back? What if this ruins our friendship? What if she never wants to talk to me again? I couldn’t bear that! What do I do?” Harry was almost pleading. He hated showing what he thought of as weakness, but he really didn’t have much choice, here.

“Talk to her, Harry. Show her how you feel.” With that, Poppy escorted him from the infirmary and gently closed the doors behind him.

*

“Hermione, can I have a word?” Harry had waited until the common room was empty. Most of the Gryffindor’s had already gone down to the great hall for dinner. Hermione was still working on an essay that wasn’t due for a week. Outside the window, rain sheeted down. Occasionally there would be a flash of lightning, or the roll of thunder. The wind howled faintly through the walls.

Hermione looked up at her best friend, stretched to ease the kinks from her back, then stood up and walked over to him. “What’s wrong, Harry? Did Madam Pomfrey find something?”

“Sort of.” Harry answered, shyly. Here he was, about to confess his love for his best mate, and he couldn’t find the words. His chest hurt, his heart was tap-dancing, his legs would just barely hold him, his stomach ached and he couldn’t breathe.

“What is it?” Hermione was concerned. Then again, Hermione was always concerned about him.

Madam Pomfrey told me…” Harry couldn’t go on.

“What did she tell you, Harry?” Hermione whispered gently, gazing into his eyes. Harry took a deep breath, licked his lips, and rushed forward. “She told me there’s nothing wrong with me that hasn’t gone wrong with everyone since time began.”

“I don’t understand.” Hermione said, but her eyes widened and her mouth moued, as she realized what he was saying. ~Oh, this can only lead to trouble!~ She thought.

“What I’m trying to say…is well…Ireallylikeyoualot!” Harry grabbed Hermione’s shoulders, and pulled her into a clumsy embrace, and brought his mouth down onto hers. He kissed her for a few seconds, then released her. “That’s what I wanted to say.”


CRACK! Harry’s head recoiled from the slap.

“Harry James Potter! What the hell do you think you are doing!?” Hermione raged. “How dare you kiss me like that?”

“I’m so sorry, Hermione.” Harry gasped in pain. He held his hand to is left cheek. His face burned. “I just got carried away. I’m sorry. I…I just wanted to tell you how I…how I…how I feel.” He cast his eyes downward.

“Well, Harry, you don’t just go around kissing girls. Especially not like that!” Hermione scolded.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. Please forgive me.” He whispered the last, as he turned to go. Suddenly, Hermione gripped his shoulder, and spun him around.

“Not so fast Potter, I’m not quite done with you! That was not a proper kiss! This is how you properly kiss a girl!” She whispered the last, moving in very close.

Hermione brought her hands up, to gently hold Harry’s face, his stinging cheek hot against her palm. Slowly, carefully, as though afraid he would bolt, Hermione brought her lips closer to Harry’s. Harry felt her breath, warm against his lips. He shivered. Hermione brushed gentle petals, in fleeting passes, against first, his bottom lip, then, his upper one, softly caressing his mouth with hers.

Harry was on fire! The electric shocks that coursed through him had nothing to do with the storm outside. The touch of her lips stunned him completely. He stood there, mouth slack, as Hermione nibbled at his lip.

Pressing more firmly against his mouth, Hermione gently parted her lips a bit.

Harry was still in shock. He had absolutely no idea what he should do. His
instincts, so long ignored, refused to help him. It was as if they were saying to him: ~Sorry, mate! You got yourself into this, you get yourself out!~ Hermione lightly brushed her tongue across his bottom lip asking entrance. Without his knowing, Harry parted his own allowing her to slip between them. Hermione probed carefully. His teeth were still blocking her.

Hermione pressed firmly against them. Opening his mouth a bit more, Harry allowed her entrance at last. He felt giddy as her tongue touched his. Finally, he seemed to understand what was happening. His own tongue caressed hers.

Inside Harry’s mouth, their tongues teased and massaged each other.


Holding, caressing, the two of them moved closer together. Hermione’s arms went around his neck. His wrapped around her. His right began tracing absent circles at the base of her spine, and his left rested on her back, pulling her closer to him.

Harry could feel every smooth muscle, under Hermione’s skin as she molded herself to him. Her breasts were flattened against his chest. He could feel the firm points of her nipples against his own.

He could also feel his arousal against her pelvis, and knew she did too. Surprisingly, she did not pull away. Or slap him again. Rather, she began to slowly push her hips against his. His erection grew harder.

Hermione groaned at the feel of his hard length against her softer parts. She pushed against him, harder, enjoying the frissons of pleasure radiating from there.

Harry began to feel the heat coming from her, not to mention a certain warmth against his tented trousers.


Of course, someone had to screw it up.


“OY! What the hell are you two doing!” Ron.


Harry and Hermione sprang guiltily apart, while trying to relearn the art of breathing.

Ronald Weasley stood at the bottom of the stairs to the boy’s dormitories. His face, rapidly turning crimson, bore an expression of shock and rage. Hermione answered, with an air of coldness that would serve well in an ice factory.

“I am teaching Harry how to properly kiss a girl, you silly twit! Now, go away!” She turned to face Harry with a look of grim determination he’d grown to know, admire and yes…love, in years past. She returned her hands to his shoulders.

“Hell, bloody no, I’ll not go away! Ron ranted. He rushed forward to physically separate his friends. “You’re MY girlfriend, not Harry’s! If you’re kissing anybody, it should be me!”

Hermione gaped at Ron. Harry noticed, she didn’t move her hands from his shoulders. “What the hell do you mean I’m YOUR girlfriend? Since when did this come about?”

“Since forever!” Ron shouted. His face was an angry red that closely matched his fiery hair.

“If anyone is to be my boyfriend, I will decide who!” She shouted back. Then, in a calmer voice: “Harry, meet me in the Room of Requirement tonight after dinner. I’ll finish teaching you what you need to know.” She turned to Ron. “Ronald Weasley, if there is so much as a scratch on Harry, I will hex you so badly, you’ll pray for death! Harry, after dinner!” She stormed up the stairs to the girls dormitories.


Harry stared nervously at his friend. He had no idea what he was going to say. He tried anyway.

“Ron, I…”

“Shut it, Harry. I don’t want to hear it!”

“Ron, please, I didn’t mean…”

“Shut it, I said! I ought to pound you into a bloody pulp! You know I fancy her!

“Yeah.” Harry whispered, sadly. “Yeah, I do.” He left the common room, and went outside for a walk.

*

“Ron?” Hermione’s quiet voice still managed to ring out through the common room.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now!” He snarled, standing up from the couch where he’d been sulking.

“That’s too damned bad!” Hermione raised her wand and spat: "Petrificus Totalis!". Ron’s arms and legs snapped together and he fell to the couch.


“Now, Ronald…” Hermione spoke softly, though there was no doubt in Ron’s mind that she was furious. She returned her wand to her belt, and sat next to his frozen body. “It’s time you and I had a little chat.”

*

“Harry?” Ron saw his friend walking beside the lake. The rain was still pouring down. Harry seemed not to notice even that he was soaked through. He turned his head to see Ron approaching. He moved away, until he saw the wand in Ron’s hand. He grabbed for his own, but Ron was already crying out: “Immobulus!”

Harry immediately stiffened where he was and fell over.

Ron came up to him. “I’m sorry, chum. This is the only way you’ll ever listen to anyone. He reached under Harry’s shoulders, and dragged his friend to the slight shelter of a large beech tree. Laying Harry down under the canopy, he sat by him, and began to speak.

“If it helps, you should know Hermione did this to me, too. Just after you’d gone. She’s made me to understand.” Ron paused, sighed then went on, his voice filled with regret. “Harry, right now I want to hate you, I really do, but I just can’t. Hermione told me that she’s loved you, almost since the first time she set eyes on you. I guess I’ve always known. I love her and all, but she’s made me to understand…what you two have isn’t just feelings. It sure isn’t physical, since I know you are still a virgin, and she told me she is too. It’s…it’s something else. Something deeper. Something more…well, I can’t explain it. I just know it’s there.

Ron raised his wand. “I’m going to take this off you, now. Please don’t pound me.” He whispered: “Finite Incantatum". The body bind left Harry. He was free to move. Turning his head, Harry looked at one of his two best friends. He sat up, and scooted backwards to rest against the tree’s trunk.

“I’m sorry, Ron.” He began.

“Don’t be.” Ron interrupted.

“I didn’t mean it to happen…well, actually, I guess I did, but not like that. I just wanted to show her how I felt about her. Then I would have backed away, honestly I would have. You see, I do understand how you feel, Ron. I really didn’t want to interfere with the two of you, but I…I just had to tell her. I mean, it’s safer for her if we never got involved. What with Voldemort after me all the time, well, she would be in serious danger. I won’t have that. She means too much to me.” Harry babbled on. Ron gave him an odd look, then interrupted.

“Harry, She loves you.” The words were quiet, but they shut Harry’s mouth.

“She what?” He whispered, in shock.

“She loves you. Really loves you.” Ron replied, tightly. “Hermione told me she’d walk straight through the gates of hell for you. She wants you to be happy, for the rest of your life. Harry, I truly hope you feel that way about her too. Right now, she’s in the room of requirement, waiting to, and I quote, “teach you what you’re gonna need to know”, end-quote.”

“She’s WHAT?”

“You heard me. She’s waiting for you. Get up there. Dad says, never keep a lady waiting.” Ron stood, and offered his hand to Harry. Harry pulled himself up, and gazed into the eyes of his chum.

“Thank you, Ron.” He turned to go. Ron stayed him by grabbing his robes.

“Harry, if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.” Ron was deadly serious.

“I won’t hurt her, Ron. I love her too much.”


Harry walked back to the castle, leaving behind a weeping Ronald Weasley.