HP: I got Transmigrated into the World of Magic [Chapter 55: Hug!] (Patreon)
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"Ha ha! Victory is mine!"
"Well, what happened already?" Hermione asks exasperatedly, blatantly ignoring and purposely cutting short my exultation.
But that doesn't put a damper on my mood. "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," I say with a smirk.
Hermione's eyes widen as she gasps. "You didn't!"
"Just the back of her hand, and only while she was too distracted to hex me."
"You're barmy, you know that?" Harry says.
"Masochistic, you said it yourself," I corrected him. "It was at the very end there...I was half expecting to get hexed from behind after that. Anyway, she wrote to her father about what I said outside the Potions lab. He said he agrees with me about blood purity, and Daphne holds him in high regard so she believes him. She agreed to help us out."
"Really?" Harry asks, a surprise plain on his face.
"Yes, though I imagine it will be a while before she'll actually agree to be seen in public with us."
Harry laughs and shakes his head. "William, that's incredible...I can't believe you got a Slytherin to agree to help us."
"I can't believe you kissed her hand!" Hermione says.
I throw an arm around her and plant a solid kiss on her forehead, just below her hairline. "I know, it was a bit crazy, now that I think about it. It wasn't planned. Your hair smells good by the way."
"William..." she whines, nudging me away.
Seeing her blush and recalling the part of the conversation with Daphne about honesty, I decide to take it a bit further. "You know, now that we've declared our love for each other, I think we should be more affectionate. Can I hug you and kiss you more often as long as we're in private?"
She blushes even deeper. "Why do you have to say things like that?" She hides behind Harry while I laugh at how similar her reaction was to Daphne's.
"Haven't we talked about snogging in front of me?" Harry complains.
"Kissing like that is not snogging, Harry," I say, rolling my eyes. "You should do it, too, her skin is nice to kiss and her hair smells really good. Go on, smell her hair."
"I'm not going to smell her hair!"
"Yeah, I suppose it would be awkward now, but you should still initiate more hugs so you can smell her hair later. She gives really good hugs, too. Hey, speaking of which, you never answered me, Hermione. Hugs and kisses?"
"I suppose you hugged and kissed Daphne, is that what brought this on?" Hermione asks petulantly.
"No, in fact that handshake was the only time we touched...she actually had her wand pointed at me most of the time," I say with a grin.
She sighs. "Well if you must, I suppose it would be okay if you hugged me, but I don't know about—eep!" She squeaks as I scoop her up into a big hug and swing her around.
She stifles a laugh and pounds me on the arm when I set her down. "Prat!"
"Harry, you're really missing out on the hair thing," I say, fighting a laugh, "I'm telling you."
"Stop smelling me! I feel like I need to shower now."
"If you were dirty you wouldn't smell so good," I say, but then I reconsider. "Actually, I take that back, you would probably still smell good just in a different way."
"Well, I take it back, too...no hugging and definitely no kissing." Hermione folds her arms and follows that with a dramatic, "humph."
I stagger as if struck, clapping both hands over my chest. "O cruel unrequited love! O cruel mistress! Wherefore must thou torture me so! Harold, my dear brother, I must entreat thee, allow me to live vicariously through thy sweet embraces with my dearest love Hermione! To suffer entirely without is far too much for my desolate soul to bear. O woe! Woe is me!"
"Okay, okay, stop!" Hermione says, lips pressed together as if fighting a smile. "If you stop with the awful Shakespearean mockery I'll let you hug me," she says, then she quickly holds a hand up to stop me. "Not now! Just...later. Er, generally speaking, that is."
I pout theatrically when she stops me from hugging her again. "Awful? I thought my speech conveyed my self-pity quite effectively."
"Oh it did," Harry says, "you were quite pitiful."
"Thy barbed double entendre strikes at my very heart, brother." I pound a fist on my chest dramatically.
"You aren't really going to start talking like that, are you?" Hermione asks.
"How else am I going to get away with calling you my dearest love without you hurting me? Ow! See!" My grin doesn't fade as I rub my shoulder.
"Well, quit saying things you don't mean!"
"Hmm. Well, logistically speaking, I think it's accurate to say you are my nearest and dearest love. On this side of the pond I only have you and Harry, after all, and you look and smell better. No offense Harry."
"None taken," Harry says with a laugh.
"Of course you have your parents and probably some other family and Harry, so I know I'm probably pretty low in your ordering of dearest loves."
"I've never said I love you," she retorts.
I sigh. "I suppose not." I droop my head. "You make me want to break out into tragic Shakespearean monologues."
"Please don't." She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I do though."
"What?"
"L-love you...and Harry," she says sincerely, looking at the floor. "I've never said that to anybody outside of my family. I've never had many friends, and you guys...you're my best friends."
Somehow, hearing her say that feels a lot different than when I'm the one putting the words in her mouth. We all stop walking at her admission and stand in silence.
"Well say something already!" she says with a sniffle.
"Is it late enough to hug you now?" I ask.
"Yes, you big oaf!"