Palms Up

Hermione sat in her comfy armchair in front of the fire, gazing in amusement around the Gryffindor common room. Being the night before the exam period began, the common room was a place of frenzied note making and mad cramming. Neville sat at the long table, occupied by most of the Sixth years, hurriedly flicking through page after page of his Potions notes. His concentration was so intense; it appeared to Hermione that Neville was trying to inhale the words off the page.

Ron was practicing Transfiguration on several buttons, and commotion broke out when his spell backfired, and the button was transfigured into a large hairy spider. The other Sixth years laughed uproariously while Ron launched himself away from the table, eyes wide with fright.

Hermione was not a part of this wild studying session, having made all her notes weeks before. She was now occupying her time with re-reading her notes in the relative peace by the fire. But her quiet solitude was soon interrupted by a voice in front of her.


Hermione looked up into the face of Harry. He was standing in front of her, clutching a thick book in one hand, with an agitated look on his face.

“I was just wondering, seeing as how you’ve done all your studying-” at this Hermione glared and cut him off.

“Just because you and Ron wouldn’t listen to me when I told you to start studying, it does not mean that I am going to teach you everything you need to know now. And for your information, I am still studying. I have to read over my notes for Arithmancy.”

Harry looked slightly fazed, but spoke before Hermione could turn back to her books.

“I have made notes thank you very much. I just wanted to ask you something for Divination.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Harry, I don’t even take Divination.

“I know, I just wanted to practice something on you… Please? I’ll only take five minutes of your precious time.”

Hermione sighed and looked at Harry, who was doing a very good imitation of a puppy dog.

“Fine. Five minutes. It better not hurt, and you can’t hypnotise me.” Harry grinned and pulled Hermione over to a couch so the were sitting side by side.

“I only wanted to practice reading palms. Won’t hurt a bit, I promise. Here, give me your hand.” Harry took the proffered hand, and held it palm up. He gazed for a long time at the lines across her palm, as if they would reveal the world’s deepest secrets to him.

“Found any shocking revelations? Am I going to die? Have a fantastic love life?” Hermione teased as Harry attempted to make sense of the squiggles.

“Damn. Can’t remember which one’s which… Oh no, wait on. This one’s your life line,” he said, softly tracing his finger along the crease. “It’s long, so I guess you’re going to live a long time.”

“Well thank God for that! You had me worried Harry, thought you were going to pull a Trelawney on me! But tell me something interesting. What about my love life?” At this, Harry reddened slightly, but it was almost unnoticeable in the glow from the fire.

“Well. Um, I think this little one here is your relationship line.”

“Oh. I guess I’m destined for short relationships then?” Hermione sighed dramatically.

“Not necessarily. Mine’s pretty short too, it could mean you will only have a few relationships. Maybe you will find true love, and live happily ever after. Your love line is long and deep, which is probably a good sign.”

“Harry, are you just making this all up?” Harry smiled sheepishly.

“I wouldn’t say making it up, I mean, those are all the right lines in your palms, I’m just not entirely sure what they mean. You know Divination. Not the most precise form of magic.” Hermione giggled at Harry’s impersonation of Professor McGonagall.

“Exactly. Who wants that fairytale you predicted anyway?”

“It wouldn’t be so bad,” said Harry softly, still gazing at Hermione’s hand, held in his own. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

Harry’s finger was gently tracing patterns around Hermione’s palm, making her shiver slightly at the barely there touch. He raised his gaze to Hermione eyes, and they sat like that for several moments, staring at each other, oblivious to the buzz around them. Confusing thoughts were running through Harry’s head, but by far the most overwhelming was the desire to lean forward and kiss Hermione. Not stopping to consider the consequences, he did just this, covered the space between them and lightly pressed his lips against Hermione’s.

She pulled back in surprise, jolting Harry out of his reverie.

“What was that for?”

“Oh Gods I’m so sorry Hermione don’t know what I was thinking I never meant to do that please forgive me I don’t know why I did that oh Gods-” Hermione cut him off by placing her hands on both sides of his face and pulling him towards her. Their lips met, and it was not the chaste kiss of before, but much deeper. Harry ran his tongue along Hermione’s lip and Hermione’s joined his. Together they tasted each other, drew breath from each other’s lips, shared bodies, hearts, souls…

The world around them suddenly broke in on the two in the form of catcalls and whistles coming from around the common room. Suddenly remembering where she was, Hermione flushed scarlet, horrified that something so personal had been witnessed by so many. She buried her face in her hands in embarrassment. Harry looked up to see the other Sixth years grinning at him. Harry turned back to Hermione, his cheeks tinged red.

“Hermione,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m sorry. Don’t worry alright?” Hermione slowly lifted her head from her hands to gaze into Harry’s eyes.

“Harry,” Hermione whispered back. “I think the fairy tale has just begun.” And quite abruptly, Hermione realised she didn’t care that she was surrounded by other people, didn’t care what others thought, all that mattered was that she was here, and Harry was next to her, and maybe it was love. At the same time, Hermione and Harry’s lips met once again, and Hermione melted against Harry’s embrace. All Harry could think was maybe this is love.

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