Can A Phoenix Love A Lion? (Hermione Granger x Male Reader)

49. Off to Hogwarts

A/N: I'm sorry! Very, very sorry! I know, it took me way too much time to update. I always added things—new paragraphs, little bits and pieces. It's just that I realise how many plot holes there were in the French version. I know it's only a fanfic and you probably know the plot of Harry Potter enough to get what I don't write, but I just can't make myself update if I see big missing chunks.
Frankly, I should stop rambling about this—I'm always late when it comes to updating ^^' But I don't want you to think I forget or that I don't care about this story! I care very much—too much, actually; that's what makes me take so much time for trivialities.
Anyway, I forced myself to update, otherwise this chapter would've never come out. Maybe there's a grammatical error here or there, or any other kind of error, but I don't really care at this point: I just need to update, so I do it.
I still hope you'll like the chapter; happy reading!

Y/N's eyes opened, staring up at Hermione's face. She was softly shaking him awake, and when she saw him stirring up, she beamed with a sudden smile. He could see the sunlight flooding through the windows; the clock indicated midday already. He should have been out of bed long since.

Carefully—because he felt sleepy—he sat up. His head whirled dizzily, but he forced himself not to lie back again. He knew he would fall back asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

To one side were Harry's and Ron's empty, messy beds. Harry would be gone to his hearing at the Ministry; Ron would be doing whatever had to be done in the house.

On the opposite side, Hermione was sitting on the bed next to Y/N.

Abruptly, he realised that he was not wearing anything except his trunks beneath the sheet that had fallen to his waist. "Why didn't anyone wake me up before?" he asked, trying to pretend he had not noticed or that he did not care. "We certainly haven't finished cleaning the house."

Hermione glanced at the door, as though not particularly eager to go back to the cleaning. "Your mum asked us not to wake you," she said. "You don't sleep enough, so she said that you ought to rest today. I agree."

He glanced at the door, too. He did ought to rest, but he could not. Really. Even though he wanted to, he never slept deeply long enough to recover. He remembered that Ron's snoring had woken him up last night. Or the night before. He did not know. Days passed and seemed the same to him in this dusty, musty house, where half the cupboards were still bolted shut.

The fact was that living at the headquarters of the anti-Voldemort movement was not nearly as interesting or exciting as you would have expected before you experienced it. Though members of the Order of the Phoenix came and went regularly, sometimes staying for meals, sometimes only for a few minutes' whispered conversation, Y/N's mother or Mrs Weasley made sure that Y/N and the others were kept well out of earshot, and nobody seemed to feel that they needed to know anything more than they had heard on the night of Harry's arrival.

"So, um, why did you wake me?" Y/N asked, turning back to Hermione.

"Lunch is ready," she said. "You may need to rest, but it won't do you any good not to eat. Come on," she added, standing up, "put some clothes on. You won't have anything if you don't hurry."

She walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

That was when he blushed. He would never again sleep shirtless.

A few minutes later Y/N walked down the stairs, past the house-elves' heads and into the kitchen.

When he pushed open the door, he saw his parents, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, William, Poppy, Hermione, and Ron.