The Sugar Quill
Author: Kirkis  Story: First Kisses  Chapter: Hermione Granger
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First Kisses: Hermione Granger

Harry Potter, and all Characters therein belong to J. K. Rowling, © 2001 Warner Bros. In short, they aren't mine, please don't sue.
kkisblpeen@aol.com
http://kirkis-elf.com


First Kisses
By Kirkis
Chapter one - Hermione Granger (Chapter one is based partly on the movie)

        Hermione knelt among the shattered chess pieces that littered the life-sized chessboard. Harry quickly joined her.

        "Take care of Ron, use the broom in the flying key room to get back up through the trapdoor and past Fluffy. Then go to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we'll need him," Harry instructed, taking a short pause. "Ron's right," he restarted, glancing away toward the next door. "I have to go on."

        "You'll be okay Harry, you're a great wizard, you really are," Hermione said, almost at a whisper.

        "I'm not as good as you," Harry offered up, shrugging his shoulders. Hermione only grinned, glancing down at Ron.

        "Heh, me?" she said, returning her gaze to Harry. "Books and cleverness, but there are more important things. Friendship and bravery, and Harry," she paused, deciding to condense her statement. "just be careful."

        Harry nodded and in one movement stood and turned toward the door. He walked briskly across the room, Hermione's words still echoing in his ears as he reached the door. He turned and threw a look back at his friends. Friendship, and bravery, he thought. They were truly his friends, but even they couldn't go on, and he knew it. He turned, pulled open the huge door partway, and slipped through.


        Hermione watched Harry until he'd slipped through the doorway, before she turned her attention to Ron.

        "Ron, wake up," she said, shaking his arm. There was no way she could get him all the way out of the trapdoor unconscious. "Wake up!" she shouted louder, jumping a bit at the sound of her voice echoing in the huge chess room. She shook him much harder this time, but she still couldn't wake him. She let out a quick sigh. I suppose I'll have to slap him maybe? she thought, patting his face.

        "C'mon, Ron, wake up!" she barked, sinking back onto her heels. She sat there for a moment looking at him, running her eyes over the uneven strands of flame orange hair that had come to rest across his forehead. She reached down, almost without thinking, and dusted them away.

        I'm all alone, and he's unconscious, she thought, touching ever so gently at the nicks and cuts Ron had managed to accumulate during their trek through the trapdoor. I guess if he didn't wake up when I shook him, she thought, leaning back down toward him. Just one couldn't hurt, and he'll never tell anyone, she further convinced herself. She flitted her gaze back and forth from his eyes to his lips, until her bottom lip touched his. On impulse she pulled back about an inch, taken aback by the tenderness of his lips. Ever so softly, don't wake him, she thought, lowering once again. This time she didn't pull back, gingerly letting her lips flirt over his, brushing them just barely here and there.

        Don't you dare wake up, Ron Weasley, she thought, finally letting her lips press down on his. A strange queasiness flooded into her stomach, as her lips danced a caressing dance over his. Still unconscious, Ron would have no idea any of it ever happened. She drew in a breath as she kissed, pulling with it his unique, gingerish scent. She'd only smelled it a handful of times before, and wondered how he came to smell like ginger snaps. Now the faint smell wafted into her nostrils and ran tingles all the way down her back. After what seemed like an eternity of sensation, Hermione's good sense kicked in. This is no time for passionate kisses, you idiot! she mentally berated herself for her single moment of feminine curiosity.

        "All right, Ron, you've got to wake up!" she said loudly, lightly slapping one of his cheeks. "Ron!" she huffed. "This isn't working at all. Ron!" She furrowed her brow, drew back her hand and slapped him harder. "Ron!!" she barked. "Wake up!" she shouted, slapping him again.

        "Wha…who…?" he stuttered, raising his hands to shield himself from the stinging slaps landing on his cheeks.

        "Wake up Ron, we've got to get a message to Dumbledore, c'mon!" she said, shaking him again.

        "Would you stop!" Ron shouted, sitting up and shaking himself loose of her grip. "You couldn't've shaken me awake, could you?" he complained, dragging himself to his feet. "Ow!" Ron grabbed his leg tightly.

        "I tried, I was lucky slapping you brought you around," she retorted, slipping his arm over her shoulder.

        "You just like slapping people around, I think."

        "We don't have time to argue, Ron, Harry's gone ahead, and we've got to get a message to Dumbledore."

        "That doesn't give you the right to go beating people senseless."

        "If you'd woken up the first time I shouted-"

        "I'm amazed I didn't, you've got a voice that could wake the dead."

        "Oh, go on, Ron, before I leave you to limp your way out of here!" They argued as they slowly made their way out of the chessroom.


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