Chapter 2: Back Rubs, Movies, and Realizations

A/N: Realize, by Colby Caillat is the song that Harry sings. You can see a video of me playing it (with similar fireplace lighting) at sites dot google dot com/site/fridaynightsfic/

Harry glanced over at the brown haired girl standing beside him, as they looked for DVD's at the local store. It was amazing how much she had changed in the past four years.

Her hair was as bushy and uncontrollable as ever, but instead of giving the impression that she didn't care about her appearance, it seemed to fit her.

It was perhaps the juxtaposition between her hair and her body that Harry found so interesting. Her hair was... expansive, for a lack of a better word, and might have been appropriate for someone twice her size, but she stood only barely over 5'2". She was petite, and Harry imagined that he could pretty easily toss her over his shoulder if he chose to. He could only imagine the huffing and feigned indignation that would occur over that action. He made a mental bet with himself:

"10 to 1 she uses my middle name. I always used to know when I was in trouble when she used my full name."

He smiled, and resolved to do it at the soonest opportunity.

Hermione was aware of Harry's surreptitious glances, as she had been casting a few of her own, but she was devoting most of her thoughts to finding an inventive way to manipulate Harry into watching the specific movie she wanted to see. She supposed that she could simply just reject every one he offered until he finally gave her the choice, but that seemed petty and very Ron-like.

"Harry, did you know that the Potter's are originally Irish?" she asked in her sweetest voice.

"Yes, actually. I'm a mix though, both Irish and English."

"I love the highlands of Ireland - they're so vibrant and alive."

He looked at her, starting to get the feeling that this was going somewhere, and that he wasn't going to have much of a choice about it.

"I also LOVE fight scenes. Not any of that new aged business with special effects. There's nothing like a good bit of old fashioned rough housing in a movie." she said looking wistfully at a movie, her soft chocolate eyes starting to go into pouting mode.

Harry looked at her, eyes sparkling, catching on to her tone.

"Indeed." he said.

"And there's this one movie, set in Ireland, that has the most incredible love story."

Harry snorted.

"AND it has one of the longest fight scene in movie history."

Harry pondered for a moment. He should have known that he wouldn't have a chance resisting her. He never could. Perhaps he could get something out of this though. He assumed his best McGonnagal impersonation.

"Ms. Granger, in my extensive studies, I've come across an ancient latin phrase, used extensively in the legal profession, especially in the area of contract law." He paused for dramatic effect.

"Would you like to know what it is?" he asked, teasing her with knowledge.

"Indeed, professor." she said, somewhat breathlessly.

"Quid pro quo, Ms. Granger. Quid pro quo."

This new Harry Potter was not something that she was used to. Harry Potter had always been every girls dream - a shining white knight with a penchant for defeating Dark Lords and saving the world, but he had never been what she would call refined. He shunned the public forum (her belief was that this was why Ginny, the quintessential attention seeker, had left him for someone more in the public spotlight). Of course, he could have that spot light if he wanted it.

"Indeed, professor." she said somewhat breathlessly. Inside, she was blushing horribly. Harry's lecture voice, along with his academic expertise was some sort of aphrodisiac for her, it seemed.

"Quid pro quo, Ms. Granger. Quid pro quo."

She stood there momentarily shocked. She had never expected Harry to challenge her like this. She was used to being able to boss him around. She found it strangely exhilarating.

"And what is it, exactly, Mr. Potter, that you would like in valuable consideration for the torturous and barbaric sacrifice that I desire of you?"

"My conditions are actually rather simple, and I think that you will quickly agree." He paused, and cast her a sly glance.

"You see, women, in the wake of a patented Harry Potter backrub, are completely unable to function, as they are so relaxed that they feel that little else matters in the world besides their cocoon of bliss. I merely demand that you give me a patented Hermione Granger backrub before I bestow on you the privilege of experiencing my magic hands."

Hermione's eyes dazzled, as she began to mentally poke holes in his demand.

"I find not one, but two logical fallacies in that little statement of yours, Mr. Potter," she said, as he crossed his arms in mock indignation.

"First, knowing that you've dated one girl for most of your life, I highly doubt that you have a broad sample size to back such a strong assertion about your effectiveness. I highly doubt that your singular experiences can be applied to the entire female population, never mind a physical specimen such as me."

"Secondly," she said, gently placing a hand on his arm as she walked around him, then moving her hands slowly to the center of his back, where she firmly began kneading into his muscles, "you've never had a Hermione Granger backrub, and I highly doubt that I would get mine after I leave you in a pool of your own drool because your own brain has stopped working due to sheer ecstasy."

Harry's knees almost buckled when her fingers hit the first knot in his back.

"Well," he though wryly "Ginny has nothing on THAT."

After a few seconds, Hermione stopped and Harry turned to face her, with a rather comical expression on his face.

"Well played, Ms. Granger." he said, attempting to collect himself, and wondering, "Did Hermione Granger just flirt with me?"

"But I imagine we'll see who's right later on, won't we?"

Hermione looked back at him, positively glowing.

"I suppose we will Harry. I suppose we will."

Harry lay facedown on the couch in front of the fire in a pool of his own drool.

Hermione sat on top of him, straddling him with her legs, as she kneaded into his back with her iron fingers. Each muscle group brought a new tenor of moans from Harry, as he gave himself up to her ministrations.

Hermione, in her own right, was greatly enjoying feeling his muscles beneath his thin t-shirt.

"Pureblood's are too lazy to develop muscles like this." she thought, taking full advantage of her cart blanch to feel him up. In a very chaste, friend like way, of course.

Harry, not exactly ignorant of Hermione's excessive contact, was starting to feel that he should be returning the favor. An evil idea slowly formed in his mind.

As Hermione was finishing with one latoral muscle, Harry turned over, essentially rotating in between her legs. This resulted with Hermione straddling him properly. He gave her an innocent smile, arching his eye brows, and asked,

"Shouldn't it be your turn now?"

Hermione was one part shocked, and one part reluctant to move, having only recently finding herself straddling Harry in the way she had been imagining only a few moments earlier.

"He couldn't have hear those thoughts, could he?" She wondered to herself, blushing slightly.

Harry had to admit, Hermione's moans were doing things to him that friends don't normally do.

"We're just friends, I'm just giving her a backrub. Nothing more, nothing less. You haven't seen her in years. You're just getting to know her again." thought Harry, attempting to get himself under control.

Still, he had never heard her purr like that, when he softly kneaded his fingers in between her shoulder blades, or ran his hands down the length of her back.

"Think Umbrage in her knickers, taking lewd pictures with Filtch." That should do it, thought Harry.

"Hermione, would you mind if we put the movie in? I'm interested in this fight scene you keep talking about."

"I'm telling you, this is John Wayne like you've never seen him before. The Quiet Man was, in my opinion, his magnum opus."

Harry carefully, disengaged himself from Hermione, taking a moment to appreciate her bum, put in the movie and grabbed the remote. His TV was adjacent to the now smoldering fireplace and he sat down on the left of the couch, while Hermione sat in the middle.

"Do you have a blanket?" she asked. "It's not that I'm cold, it's just that after that incredible massage," Harry puffed out his chest a little in pride, "I feel a little cuddly."

"Well, I've been told that I do very well as a teddy bear." he said half jokingly, half challengingly.

Hermione scooted over to him and laid her head on his shoulder. In a moment of bravery, he lifted his arm and placed it around her.

"It's almost ironic that we'd be a perfect fit like this, isn't it?" asked Hermione, curling her legs up, her heart racing, but more content than she had been in years.

"No. It's only ironic because of the Weasley's, and what they succeeded in doing for years. I think this is as natural as anything I've ever felt in my life." He gave her a little squeeze.

Their body contact was electric.

"So your telling me, for that scene where John Wayne drags her 5 miles across the fields to her brothers estate, Wayne and the director had kicked cow shit all over the path so she'd get it all over herself during the filming?"

"That's right," she chuckled, "apparently her and her friend got wind of it early, and they tried to remove it, but Wayne and the director came in the middle of the night before the shoot and kicked it back."

"Brilliant." breathed Harry, close to her ear, sending chills down her spine.

"Would you play me another song, Harry? Just a little bit - you don't have to play the whole thing."

Harry picked up his Gibson, whom he had named "Rose", years ago, and started plucking a few notes.

He looked over at her and took the image of her in for a moment. Her eyes locked with his.

He reached up to the head of the guitar, and slowly untied the green ribbon.

"This was hers. Her favorite color was green."

He ran his fingers over it for a few moments, before tossing it into the fire.

Take time to realize,

That your warmth is.

Crashing down on in.

Take time to realize,

That I am on your side

Didn't I, Didn't I tell you.

But I can't spell it out for you,

No it's never gonna be that simple

No I cant spell it out for you

If you just realize what I just realized,

Then we'd be perfect for each other

And will never find another

Just realize what I just realized

We'd never have to wonder if

We missed out on each other now.

Take time to realize

Oh-oh I'm on your side

Didn't I, didn't I tell you.

Take time to realize

This all can pass you by

But I can't spell it out for you,

No its never gonna be that simple

No I can't spell it out for you.

If you just realize what I just realized

Then we'd be perfect for each other

And we'll never find another

Just realize what I just realized

We'd never have to wonder if

We missed out on each other but.

It's not the same

No it's never the same

If you don't feel it to.

If you meet me half way

If you would meet me half way.

It could be the same for you.

If you just realize what I just realized

Then we'd be perfect for each other

And we'll never find another

Just realize what I just realized

We'd never have to wonder if

We missed out on each other…

"That was beautiful Harry." she said somewhat breathlessly. Had he been singing about her?

"I find that it helps me make sense of things. Sometimes it allows you to see something that's been in front of you for years." he said, putting down his guitar and finally looking up at her.

Hermione scooted over to him and enveloped him in a smothering hug, which he returned equally.

"Hermione," he whispered, as she continued hugging him.

"Yes? What's wrong Harry?" she asked pulling back slightly, admonishing herself for being so forward.

"I was singing about you. I just wanted to make sure you 'realized' it." Harry said, using hand quotes.

"Harry James Potter!" she said, leaning back just far enough punch him on his arm.

"Of course I did." she huffed. "I'm not the smarted witch of our generation for nothing am I?"

"Prove it." said Harry.

And so she did, silencing Harry for the rest of the night.

A/N:

1. Damien Rice – Cheer's Darling, is the inspiration for the green ribbon.

2. Realize, by Colby Caillat is the song that Harry sings. You can see a video of me playing it (with similar fireplace lighting) at sites dot google dot com/site/fridaynightsfic/

3. I can't tell you how much I appreciated the kind reviews. I hope that this chapter didn't disappoint.