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Hermione was slightly roused from her sleep by the sound of feet padding across the thick carpet of her room in the tower set aside for returning eighth year students. She smiled to herself and pretended to still be sleeping, her smile widening as she felt someone get into bed behind her. Soon a hard, warm body was pressed up against hers, a strong arm wrapped around her waist. It had been a wise decision to wear her skimpiest pajamas tonight: a tiny tank top and itty bitty shorts.
She waited to feel soft, hesitant kisses on the back of her neck, but instead, he merely buried his face in her hair and pulled her close. After nothing happened for a few minutes, she spoke, her voice scratchy after the hours of disuse.
“You come to my room and wake me at 4am, to cuddle?”
“I was trying to surprise you,” he said, a slight pout in his tone. “I know you like waking up beside me.”
Hermione’s eyes flew open. She knew that voice better than almost any voice in her life. She shrieked and jumped out of bed, pulling the sheet around her to cover herself.
“Harry!” she cried, turning on a light.
He was now fully awake as well, squinting at her in only his boxer shorts. He shielded his eyes from the light. “Hermione?”
“Yes, it’s me,” she hissed, trying to still her racing heart. “What on earth are you doing?”
“I… er….” Harry glanced around the room as though seeking additional proof that he really was in Hermione’s room.
She pulled the sheet up tighter. “Listen, I know we’ve been good friends for a long time, but I am not interested in you this way!”
Harry blanched. “Oh, Merlin, Hermione, I—”
Just then the door burst open, and Ron thundered into the room, wand drawn, his pajama shirt half on, half off. “Whaz going on, ‘Mione?” he said, squinting in the light and waving his wand haphazardly between her and Harry. Then he stood up straight. “Harry?”
After Ron, almost everyone else in the tower filed in, having been woken either by her shriek or Ron’s loud rescue attempt. Twenty of her fellow students were crowded in her room, gaping between herself and Harry. Nobody moved for a very long moment, then Hermione snapped into action.
“Out! Everyone!” she cried, shoving people out the door, the sheet flapping around her. Ron stayed, as did Harry, who was bright red and looking at anything but either of his friends. When the door was shut, she rounded on him. “Out with it, Harry.”
He shrugged, dragging a hand through his unruly hair, causing it to stick up even worse than before. “I, well, um, wrong room?”
Ron was gaping at his friend. “And just whose room were you trying to sneak into?”
Just then the door flew open again, this time revealing one very angry Pansy Parkinson. She took one look at Harry, glared at Hermione, then slammed the door as she departed so hard the window panes rattled. Harry took two steps as though to follow, then froze, remembering exactly where he was and with whom. His expression was even more sheepish than it had been.
“Parkinson?” Ron’s jaw dropped somehow lower.
Hermione crossed her arms, feeling a bit of the wind go out of her sails of righteous anger. “You thought you were sneaking into Pansy Parkinson’s room?”
“Well,” Harry began with a grimace. Then suddenly his eyes went wide and he pointed at Hermione. “You! You weren’t surprised when I crawled into your bed! It was only when you heard me talk that you panicked!”
Hermione felt her cheeks flare but stood up straighter, her chin jutted out defiantly.
Ron’s eyes looked as though they would pop out of his skull. “Hermione!” he said, horrified. “Who have you been welcoming into your bed?” He looked between his friends. “Are you both completely mental? You could be expelled for this!”
“Since when has that ever bothered any of us?” Hermione snapped, desperately wishing to keep the identity of her nocturnal visitor a secret.
Harry was the first to chuckle, then Hermione cracked a smile. Ron burst out laughing, and the others quickly followed. “I can’t… believe I… was the one… worried about… being expelled!” Ron said between gasps for air.
“And Hermione didn’t care!” Harry rasped.
Tears were running down her face as she tried to gather herself. “Come on, you two. Out. Back to bed.”
Ron left first, followed by Harry, who stopped just outside her door. “I’m really sorry, Hermione. It, um, it won’t happen again.”
Hermione smirked. “I hope you can find a way to make it up to Pansy.”
“How long do you think I have before Malfoy tries to eviscerate me for crawling into your bed?” he asked, grinning widely.
Hermione gasped, eyes wide. “Harry!”
“Come on. I’m not as clueless as Ron. Besides, Pansy told me.” He rushed away before she could reach him and laughed as he headed down the hall—not toward his own room, but to Pansy’s.
Hermione didn’t have time to be properly mortified before a hand snaked its way around her waist. “What did Potter just say?” he growled against her ear.
She relaxed then, smiling despite the fact that they were standing in the hallway, she with the sheet still wrapped around her, he in what she suspected was his green robe and nothing else. She looked up at him over her shoulder and smiled, taking his hand and pulling him into her room.
“Come on. I’ll show you.”