Harry and Hermione: I trust you

chapter two (enjoy)

The sun glistened through the window as the birds chirpped. As Hermione lay in bed, the memory of her mother's question echoed in her mind, refusing to be ignored. She tried to push it away, telling herself that it was absurd to entertain such thoughts. After all, she and Harry were just friends, nothing more.

But despite her best efforts to convince herself otherwise, she couldn't shake the feeling that there might be some truth to her mother's words. A part of her had always harbored a secret admiration for Harry, admiring his bravery, his loyalty, his unwavering determination. Yet, she had buried those feelings deep down, afraid of what they might mean.

As she stared up at the ceiling, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if perhaps there was more to their relationship than she had ever dared to acknowledge. But the thought of confessing her feelings to Harry filled her with a sense of dread. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if it ruined their friendship?

With a sigh, Hermione pushed aside her doubts, resolving to focus on the present moment. Whatever the future held, she knew that she valued Harry's friendship above all else, and she would do anything to preserve it. But as she drifted off to sleep, a small part of her couldn't help but wonder what might happen if she dared to take a chance on love.

Meanwhile, Harry had a peaceful slumber. That is until he woke up to a pussy sitting on his face. Harry's eyes shot open, his initial confusion giving way to a mixture of surprise and mild panic as he realized what was pressing against his face. "Whoa, Crookshanks!" he exclaimed, his voice muffled beneath the furry weight. He gently pushed the cat aside, trying to catch his breath.

As Crookshanks hopped off him and sauntered away, Harry sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. He glanced around the room, half expecting Hermione to be there, doubled over with laughter at the sight of her mischievous pet's antics.

Sure enough, Hermione stood in the doorway, trying (and failing) to stifle her laughter with a hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she managed between giggles. "I forgot to warn you about Crookshanks' morning routine."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle in spite of himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, that's one way to wake up, I suppose," he said, shooting Hermione a playful grin.

Hermione smiled and placed a blindfold over Harrys eyes which confused Harry. Hermione wanted to give him something truly special, something that would both surprise and delight him. After much thought and careful planning, she decided on a gift that would not only be meaningful but also reflect their shared experiences and adventures. Hermione wanted to give him something truly special, something that would both surprise and delight him. After much thought and careful planning, she decided on a gift that would not only be meaningful but also reflect their shared experiences and adventures.

Through the window, Harry and Hermione go to sit on the roof. As they sat together on the roof of Hermione's house, the warm summer breeze ruffling their hair, Harry's curiosity got the better of him. "Hey, Hermione, have you ever thought about what you'll do in the future?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine interest.

Hermione's brow furrowed slightly as she pondered the question. "I'm not entirely sure, Harry," she admitted honestly. "There are so many possibilities, and I haven't quite figured it out yet. I suppose I'll just keep studying and learning as much as I can until something feels right."

Turning the question back to Harry, she asked, "What about you, Harry? Any thoughts on what you might do?"

Harry's expression turned thoughtful as he gazed out into the distance. "I'm not sure either, Hermione," he confessed, feeling a sense of vulnerability in sharing his uncertainties. "I guess I'll just take things as they come and see where life leads me."

Their conversation soon turned deeper as they discussed their hopes, dreams, and fears about the future, finding solace and understanding in each other's words. In the midst of their heartfelt conversation, a fleeting moment of intimacy passed between them, and Harry felt a surge of emotion that he struggled to comprehend.

Just as they leaned in, on the brink of a moment that could change everything, a voice called out from below, interrupting the silence. "Hermione! How are you, dear?"

Startled, Hermione quickly pulled away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Oh, Mrs. Jenkins!" she called back, trying to regain her composure. "I'm doing well, thank you."

Mrs. Jenkins glanced up at them curiously. "And who's that young man sitting next to you? Is he your boyfriend?"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat as she exchanged a quick, awkward glance with Harry. "Oh, no, he's just a friend," she replied hastily, her voice tinged with discomfort.

As Mrs. Jenkins bid them farewell and disappeared back inside, Hermione let out a shaky breath, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment wash over her. Silently, she and Harry exchanged a knowing look, a silent agreement not to speak of the almost-kiss that had hung between them moments before.

And as they sat together in the fading light of the summer evening, the unspoken promise hung in the air, binding them together in a shared moment of vulnerability and understanding.

As night fell and the house grew quiet, Hermione found herself unable to shake the events of the evening from her mind. Despite her attempts to distract herself with a book, her thoughts kept drifting back to Harry and the almost-kiss they had shared on the roof. She couldn't deny the flutter of excitement that had stirred within her, nor the lingering curiosity about what might have happened if they hadn't been interrupted.

With a sigh of frustration, Hermione closed her book and pushed back the covers, unable to resist the pull of her thoughts any longer. Quietly, she slipped out of her room and made her way down the hallway to Harry's room. She hesitated for a moment outside his door, her heart pounding in her chest, before gently pushing it open and stepping inside.

In the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window, Hermione watched as Harry slept peacefully in his bed. His features were relaxed, his breathing steady and even. She couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for her friend as she stood there, silently observing him.

As her gaze drifted to his lips, a sudden curiosity seized her. Were they really as soft as they looked? Without thinking, Hermione reached out and pressed her index finger against Harry's lips, her heart racing at the intimate gesture.

To her surprise, Harry didn't stir, lost in the depths of sleep. But then, in a soft whisper, he mumbled her name, and Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She watched him for a moment longer, her mind swirling with a mixture of emotions, before quietly slipping out of the room and returning to her own bed.

As she lay there in the darkness, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that had spread through her at Harry's whispered words. And despite her attempts to deny it, she couldn't ignore the undeniable pull she felt towards him, nor the overwhelming curiosity about what might lie ahead for them in the future.