Written by J.T. "Wrin" Blum on August 4, 2011. Harry Potter belongs to Rowling and/or her publisher, not me. I'm not making any money from this.
Hermione groaned as she flopped down onto the couch provided by the room. "How does Harry keep up with all of us?" she questioned herself. The remaining members of the DA filed out past the young man in question, leaving her gaze resting firmly on Harry Potter. She really needed to relax. Maybe a week or two of sleep would help? With OWLs coming up, her best friend having crazy visions of the Dark Lord torturing his godfather, and Umbridge making life hell for students throughout the castle, she was exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally.
After the last of the students had filed out, the "Boy-Who-Lived" closed the door and sighed tiredly. He trudged over to the couch that had appeared as a result of Hermione's need to rest and collapsed onto it himself. Maybe he was human, after all? Hermione's eyes slowly closed, her thoughts circling her only real friend as she slumped against him in sleep. A tender smile touched Harry's face before he joined her.
Several hours later, Hermione woke from an erotic dream to find herself snuggled up to Harry on a monstrous bed in the Room of Requirements. She blushed and shuffled away to the edge of the mattress as her mind caught up with her situation. She was in bed with Harry. SHE was in BED with HARRY POTTER. "Clothed...but still!" Her face burned at the images running through her head as a result of the situation and the dreams immediately preceding it. As if that weren't embarrassing enough, several condoms, contraceptives, and vials of mysterious gels and liquids helpfully materialized on the nightstand beside her. Her face nearly glowing red, she desperately tried to redirect her thoughts away from Harry and her damp knickers. A pair of handcuffs appeared, causing her to squeak and fall off the bed.
Harry stirred slightly in his sleep, but was apparently just as worn out as she had been. Her body tense and her face aflame, Hermione slowly distanced herself from the bed. How long had they slept? Why was the room responding so quickly to thoughts with so little purpose behind them? "It's almost like I'm not the only one who's thinking about it..."
Hermione's gaze turned slightly speculative. She'd liked Harry since before the troll incident in first year, since he was one of the few who didn't pick on her. She was a little star-struck at first, too. Around third year she'd figured out that part of what she felt for him was physical, but she'd never considered that he might find her attractive as well. He was such a good friend...unlike the red-haired jerk. She shuddered. THAT dream, she was STILL trying to forget.
Several minutes later, she'd decided nothing. She had no idea whether or not she should approach Harry about a relationship, or if she could convince herself to do so. She was pretty sure she wanted to be with him, but was also too scared to ask. After all, what if it ruined their friendship? Maybe she could wait a while and try to see how he felt subtly... Either way, they had to get back to Gryffindor tower before anyone noticed they were missing. For that to happen, the object of her affections needed to be awake. She only hoped they hadn't been discovered missing already. It wasn't until she was already shaking him awake that she realized she had no idea what HE was going to think of waking up with her in the Room of Requirements.