When Hermione woke up she was surprised to be completely entangled in something hard yet soft at the same time. She nuzzled her face in what she believed to be a pillow and began to trace her fingers along what felt like a thick blanket. Without giving any thought to the fact that she wasn't in her dorm in the Gryffindor tower, she hummed to herself that she had the best sleep in her life - or at least the best sleep in a long time. Bringing her arm around her 'pillow', she brought it even closer to her, if at all possible, and pressed her face into it. She felt as if she could drift off to sleep again, by the way her body felt so exhilarated and calm simultaneously.
Part of her relaxation could be credited to Harry of course. He knew just what to say and what to do to make her feel like the only person in the world who mattered at that moment. Of course, being with someone who had as much political vendetta with Dark Forces at such a young age meant that you weren't always the center of attention. But naturally, Hermione was just fine with that.
She altered her position so that her ear was pressed into her 'pillow' more than her face was, and it was then when her eyes opened once more and her eyebrows furrowed. Since when did inanimate objects such as a pillow have a pulse? Hermione had scrambled to the floor before she could take another breath, sending Harry toppling with her. She momentarily marveled at his morning presentation, which was mostly consistent with his usual look, but his hair was even more disheveled and his eyes were squinted slightly. Hermione was probably love sick, but 'tired' had never looked better on anyone. He smiled wearily at the way her body was positioned on top of his, but could not deny how uncomfortable the floor felt on his back. Then again, the view of Hermione hovering over him was irreplaceable. Even fresh out of a deep sleep she looked absolutely beautiful.
"Good morning," Harry said softly, reaching his hands up to rub his eyes.
"You were my pillow," Hermione said inaudibly.
"What?" He replied groggily. Hermione squirmed, loving the way his voice sounded in the morning.
"You were my pillow, Harry. All night. We slept together all night?" Hermione said with disbelief and tone and a dawning gaze of horror on her face.
"Well... why would we only sleep some of the night?" Harry said, easing the confused girl off of his groin and onto the floor next to him. She began to chew on her lip frantically, and the way her attitude completely contradicted Harry's was quite humorous. She kept opening her mouth to speak, but each time she simply groaned as a new dreadful thought entered her brain.
"What are you so worried about?" Harry said with a hint of irritation. Hermione squinted her eyes at him. Was he truly that dull?
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Only You: Harmione Fanfic *editing*Fanfiction
Hogwarts. The place Harry yearned to spend time with his closest friends. Yet, as time passed, it grew harder to keep bonds from crumbling and friendships from falling apart. The world was changing. Voldemort was nearing. Hermione and Harry were fal...