The Reason Why (Harmione)

Chapter 11

Harry and Hermione made their way up the stairs with their arms around each other. It was a long walk before they got to either of their rooms, and they both tried to savor it. But all too soon, Hermione's bedroom door came closer and closer until they were standing in front of it. Harry kissed her on the forehead, then awkwardly pulled away. "G-good night, H-Hermione."

Hermione smiled slightly and nodded. For a moment she watched Harry start to make his way down the hall. Then she couldn't take it anymore. "Harry!" She called after him.

He turned quickly.

Hermione turned toward her door, pointed her wand at the knob, whispered,"Alohomora," and pushed it open. Then she turned back to Harry. "Y-you don't have to go," she said quietly. But Harry heard her loud and clear.

He smiled and made his way back to her. She sighed in relief that he had reacted positively.

Hermione lied on her side and Harry lied beside her. One of her hands was on top of his, on her hip. Her other arm was wrapped around herself.

Harry had one hand on Hermione's hip, and her bushy brown hair filled his vision. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, breathing in the smell of her. Lavender and rain.

Hermione turned over so that she was facing him. Suddenly, something occurred to Harry. He slid his hand off of Hermione's hip and on to her back, under her shirt. He ran a finger over the smooth scar. "Hermione?"

She looked up. "What?"

"How did you get this scar?"

She looked confused for a moment. Then she put her own hand on her back where she could feel the scar. "This one?"

Harry nodded.

"Oh," she laughed. "Well, Harry, I'd love to tell you it was some badass adventure where I saved a life or something-"

"Like the thousand times you saved my life?"

"Well... Sure," Hermione said sheepishly. She didn't want to brag, but she had to admit, she had saved Harry's life many times. "But no. I got this scar when I was eleven. I was still in muggle school, and they were making us play volleyball in gym."

Harry laughed. "You got this playing volleyball?"

"Hey!" Hermione cried indignantly. "Not everybody can be a star athlete, Prodigy Potter!"

Harry gasped. "Hermione Granger, not an athlete? I don't believe it!" he said sarcastically.

"Oh, shut up!" Hermione yelled, punching him playfully on the arm. She was talking through laughter.

Finally, Harry's laughs subsided. "Okay, okay. I'm good now. Now, how did you get that scar playing volleyball?" One more short burst of laughter forced itself out of him. He did his best to cover it up. Of course, Hermione saw right through it.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, we were playing volleyball in gym class. And no, I'm not particularly good at any sport. But I am absolutely awful at volleyball. So of course, nobody ever wanted me to play on their team. So when the ball came flying over, I tried to hit it, but everyone else crowded around me trying to hit it themselves. Well, I think about every single one of them ran into me and I fell backward hard. My back scraped the corner of the bleachers and... Now here it is," she finished, absentmindedly running her finger over the scar.

Harry cringed. "Ouch."

She nodded. "I never really lived that one down."

Harry gave her a sympathetic look, but now she grinned at him. "Alright, your turn."