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HP446- Calm and Fiery
🕑 Added 2025-06-11 13:12:19 +0000 UTCWhen he stepped inside at the designated time, the room had already reshaped itself. No surprise there. Shelves stacked high with books lined the walls, warm light spilling from floating lanterns overhead. The floor was carpeted, a proper fireplace flickering in the corner, and at the centre, a wide velvet-cushioned reading nook with two mugs of tea already steaming.
Hermione sat cross-legged on one end, book in her lap, hair pinned back lazily with a quill. She looked up as he entered, eyes flicking from his boots to the spine of the book he carried. “Hogwarts: A Revised History?”
Harry held it up. “Thought I would impress you.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know I’ve memorised half of that already.”
“Yeah,” he said, dropping onto the cushion beside her, “but I brought the revised one. New footnotes.”
“Ooh, scandalous.”
She leaned into him, shoulders brushing his as she cracked open the cover. “You are aware,” she said without looking up, “that skipping the title page is practically sacrilege.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t realise we were working under divine reading law.”
“We are,” Hermione replied simply, flipping past the flyleaf with all the solemnity of a librarian swearing someone in. “Now hush.”
He didn’t argue. Just tilted his head slightly, letting her rest a bit more comfortably against his side. Their legs were half-tangled now, but neither of them shifted to fix it. The room was warm, properly so, and the hum of quiet magic gave everything a lived-in, late-night calm.
She began to read... aloud, of course, because Hermione always defaulted to narration when books were involved. The words weren’t dramatic, just names and publishing dates and a preface explaining recent curriculum adjustments.
Still, she read them all. No skimming, no half-reads.
Harry glanced down at her mouth as it moved. “You read this bit every time?”
Hermione didn’t stop. “Yes.”
He gave a short nod. “Mad.”
“Necessary,” she corrected, turning the page. “Sometimes changes in footnotes reflect larger ideological shifts. The 1992 edition tried to explain Salazar Slytherin was misunderstood.”
Harry gave a quiet snort. “Well, he was.”
“Exactly.”
They went on like that for a few minutes. He didn’t really track the content... dates, author revisions, a brief mention of a controversy over magical theory inclusion... but Hermione was content, and that was enough to keep him still.
Eventually, she leaned her head against his shoulder. He didn’t shift, just let her settle there, arm still resting behind her. She smelled faintly of ink and peppermint.
“Our time is about to end,” Hermione whispered.
Harry turned his head slightly. She wasn’t looking at him... eyes fixed on the teacup, but he could see she wasn’t thrilled about it.
He didn’t know what to say.
Not in the awkward sort of way. More in the way you stand at the end of a long corridor and forget what door you were about to open. Hermione hadn’t asked for anything big... just time, tea, the sort of peace most people didn’t even bother hoping for in a castle like this. And now that it was ending, it felt abrupt. Like someone had tugged on the last page before he was finished reading.
She closed the book with a quiet snap, tucking the quill back into her sleeve. “You’ve still got Ginny,” she said, not bitter, not jealous... just matter-of-fact.
He leaned down and kissed her, fingers brushing her hair aside. Hermione didn’t move straight away after, her eyes fixed on his.
“Right,” she said, clearing her throat and shifting back to her usual pace. “Ginny.”
Harry stayed put. “You sound like you are handing me off.”
She glanced at him sideways. “It is not a relay.”
“Could’ve fooled me. There is a queue.”
Harry stood too, grabbing his coat from the hook by the fireplace. “You lot are treating Valentine’s like it’s part of the curriculum.”
She raised a brow. “Should be. Teaches patience, scheduling, and strategic charm use.”
“Don’t forget diplomacy,” he said. “You’ve all refrained from cursing each other. That is a miracle.”
Hermione smirked. “Only because I’ve been casting silent Muffliato fields when we meet in corridors.”
“Efficient as ever.”
She stepped forward, tugged his scarf into place. “Now go. I’ve got reading to finish, and you’ve got a Gryffindor to meet.”
Harry caught her wrist for a second, then let go. “Thanks for the tea.”
“You are welcome,” she said. “Even if you didn’t drink it all.”
—
Ginny was waiting on the Astronomy Tower. Of course she was. High enough to freeze your nose off, wide enough to duel on, and empty enough that no one would disturb them... not even the nosiest prefects. Harry stepped through the hatch and found her already seated on the ledge, legs swinging over the edge like it was a casual afternoon.
“Thought you might ghost me,” she said, not looking round.
“Tempting,” Harry replied, stepping closer. “But then you would storm the Dungeons and set my sheets on fire.”
“Still might,” Ginny muttered. “Depends how this goes.”
He sat beside her, not dangling his legs, just leaning back on his hands, eyes sweeping the castle grounds below. Lights blinked on here and there, the snow catching some of the glow. From this high up, the whole place looked smaller.
Harry looked over at her. “You alright with all this? Really?”
Ginny shrugged. “I’ve had months to get used to it. If I weren’t alright, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Still, not exactly your standard love story.”
She snorted. “Standard love stories are boring. Besides, none of the others would duel me over it. That’s the real letdown.”
“I’m sure Astoria would try,” he offered.
“She’s all talk. No follow-through.”
Harry grinned. “You’re in rare form tonight.”
Ginny smirked. “I’ve had practice. And two cups of coffee.”
“Y’know,” she said after a pause, “we don’t have to talk through this whole thing. I didn’t ask for a seat on the council. Didn’t bring a gift. No romantic metaphors. Just figured… I would get my moment.”
“You are not a moment,” Harry said, watching her. “You are Ginny Weasley. You’d hex anyone who said otherwise.”
She gave a small laugh. “Maybe. Depending on the person.”
He leaned sideways, bumping her shoulder with his. “So what do you want?”
Ginny gave it a moment, then shrugged again. “Just you. For now. Not the Boy-Who-Everyone-Schedules.”
“That is manageable,” he said.
She turned, kissed him quick. Then pulled back and looked him square in the face. “Don’t forget it.”
“Hard to, with the threat of arson hanging over my bed.”
“Exactly.”
They sat together, just wind, castle lights, and the sort of quiet you could only get when everyone else had either gone to bed or passed out from sugar overload.
Eventually, Ginny nudged his arm. “Right. Off you go.”
Harry stood, brushing the snow off his coat as he helped Ginny to her feet. “Right, Pansy.”
Ginny arched a brow. “She get the last slot on purpose?”
“She bribed Daphne. Two library passes and something blackmail-worthy, I reckon.”
Harry reached up, his hand cupping her cheek. His thumb brushed lightly over her skin. “Valentine’s is only one day,” he said softly, “Schedule’s tight, yeah, but I will make it up to all of you.”
Ginny gave a nod and leaned into the touch. “You better,” she said, pulling away just enough to smack his chest with her gloved hand. “Go. If she’s kept waiting, she will complain for a week.”
