Instincts
Hermione Granger x fem!reader
After Sirius’ death, being the only remaining blood relative of the Blacks, you had inherited the 12 Grimmauld Place along with Harry which both of you wholeheartedly opened the doors to the Order even after the war. That meant you couldn’t get away from her… Hermione Granger.
Having dated in the past, you and Hermione weren’t that comfortable around each other… in other words, awkward. After the war, The Weasleys had insisted to meet up on important occasions whether it be a wedding, christmas, new year, hell even on halloween which was a muggle tradition. They simply wanted to show you and Harry a sense of family, even after everything that went down. But with family aside, you also had to see her… Hermione Granger.
Essentially, that meant forced proximity, interactions, and all of the sorts. You had been cold on everyone, not just her. You tried your best to put up a smile but not so far as laughing nor joking around like you did back then. You stayed quiet, observing everyone while drinking whatever.
Tomorrow was Christmas eve. They— The Weasleys which only consisted of Molly, Arthur, Ron, and Ginny, along with Hermione Harry, and Neville— had arrived. Hermione and Ginny had decided to come home from Hogwarts, Harry had taken time off from Auror training, and Ron practically begged George to close down shop for a whilst to spend Christmas with them, George ultimately agreed to let Ron take a break for a whilst but he insisted on staying behind. The rest of the Weasleys were as busy as ever with Percy still hanging about the ministry whilst Charlie was busy with his dragons back in Romania and Bill and Fleur decided to spend Christmas together back in France. Neville decided to join this year’s festivities as he needed a change of scenery. He loved his grandmother of course but he was growing tired of Augusta’s overbearingness.
The Grimmauld Place was as eerie as ever. The Manor’s aura was tense all throughout. Ghostly portraits judging silently from walls, dusty halls and echoing footsteps, and a general air where everything had reminded you both about what used to be. Hermione had spent all the afternoon avoiding you by clinging onto Ron or Harry or anyone in the house that isn’t you which was convenient because you weren’t exactly around.
Whispers were shared and you were nowhere to be seen.
“Hermione, dear. You would be staying the night at Y/N’s room.” Molly shared. “We-“ she started, she earned a slight nudge from Ginny behind her. “I mean, I thought it would be convenient since you are both girls and you have shared a room together back then.. Also it was the only clean-ish room and everything else was occupied.”
‘Fantastic! Perfect!’
Ginny desperately fought a grin along with Harry and Ron which looked away from Hermione, and had prevented themselves from grinning like absolute idiots. During the breakup— which was around the end of 6th year— they were ultimately disappointed and had bugged both you and Hermione into spilling out the reason as to why they have split but to no avail. Hermione wanted to say something.
“What about Ginny then?” Hermione asked.
“Well-“ Molly glanced at Ginny. “She insisted on staying with us. Dear Ginny has been having nightmares and would scream some nights. She didn’t want to disturb.”
Hermione looked at Ginny, skeptical.
“Yes! Horrid horrid nightmares. I wouldn’t want to disturb anyone’s sleep. And besides, you and Y/N would get to spend the time together! You are friends after all, it’ll be like old times!”
Ginny gave her mother a thumbs up discreetly. Neville spoke up, cluelessly.
“Didn’t they bre-“ Ron suddenly stomped his foot onto Neville’s. “OW! What was that for?!” Ron gave him a look, a look that said to shut it.
“Dinner’s Ready!” Molly exclaimed. Everyone rushed into the dining room. Still no you. Hermione was awfully curious about your whereabouts but she didn’t want to be the one who asked. They had settled down the table and began to eat.
“Where’s Y/N, Harry?” Ron asked your housemate, munching his food messily. Old habits truly die hard. Harry only shrugged. “She told me she’d be gone to spend Christmas early with Andromeda and Teddy. She should be back by tonight.”
Cheerful chatter filled the table. Arthur asked about how everyone was doing, which they all have replied happily. A sudden click from the front door was heard followed by footsteps. You had came back.
You stopped near the kitchen archway.
“Good Evening, Everyone.” You greeted and smiled. You were always calm and collected, dark hair flowing on your back, a voice that could send people’s spines to chill, a presence unmatched. Hermione’s attention was suddenly on you, undivided.
“Oh, Y/N dear! You’re back! You must eat.” Molly hurriedly stood up and dragged you to the table. “Oh no, Molly. The meal looks delightful but I already ate. Aunt Meda had insisted I stayed for dinner. I will make it up to you in the morning though, I’ll eat plenty.” You placed your hands on Molly’s back as you gave her a warm, assuring smile.
‘Merlin, what a ridiculous smile.’
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll head on up to change. Thank you for the meal, Molly. Eat well everyone.” You kissed the top of Molly’s head.
‘After a long time, when did she suddenly become affectionate? Did someone smuggle her a love potion? Romilda Vane back in action?’ Hermione thought to herself.
You and Hermione’s locked eyes for merely a millisecond. She was suddenly malfunctioning, looking around all over the room as if she’s been caught. A small smile plastered all over your face. and then poof you were gone.
“What was that? Is she like a vampire now?” Neville questioned. Everyone just seemed to smile at Neville’s inquiry. You had changed overtime. You seemed taller, more reserved, more intimidating. The dark clothes you had worn did not help with the accusations.
“Hermione likes vampires!” Ginny teased. Everyone laughed. Flustered, she pinched Ginny’s side. “Hermione!”
“Oh definitely, look at how red she is!” Ron pointed out. “You like the tall, dark, and pretty ones don’t you, Hermione?” Harry tagged along. She was basically glaring at everyone whilst they all laughed.
“Mind telling us why you two split up again?” Neville asked. Hermione looked at him. “No.” She got back to munching her delicious dinner. “Don’t bother trying, mate. We’ve been trying for years.” Ron said rubbing Neville’s back.”
Hermione made her way up the stairs carrying her bag. She opened the door to your room. The room was dimly lit by a candlelight casted, flickering its flame. Piles of clothes strewn all across the room along with books stacked on top of each other on the floor rather than its usual place on the shelves. You were still nowhere to be found. She wrinkled her nose as she surveyed the room.
“Absolutely not.” She plopped her bag down and began picking up the books scattered on the floor, filled with the sudden urge to tidy up. “How could someone live like this?” She muttered under her breath.
A creak from the door was heard. Hermione was way too preoccupied to notice a figure standing over the door. A sudden flick of a wand caused the books and clothes to float and organize itself. Curious, she looked out the door to find you there, just lazily standing over what used to be a disorganized room.
“I didn’t expect you here.” You stated. You quietly stepped inside of the room, red robes hanged around your shoulders with a tank and some pajama pants underneath. The room suddenly fell into what seemed to be a heavier silence than before.
Hermione continued to stack the books she had in her hand that wasn’t touched by the charm you had casted earlier as if she was ignoring your presence entirely. She hadn’t said hello, hadn’t greeted you at all. Her shoulders were stiff with you suddenly around. She avoided your gaze as she finished stacking the remaining books. She walked over toward you and was now in front of you, picking up her bag without even looking at you.
“Hey.” You said lowly, tilting your head with a concerned look in her eyes. Hermione nodded slightly. You noticed her cold demeanor. In a place where you slept, you sure seemed uncomfortable. Hermione’s heart was pounding loudly.
‘If you keep tilting your head like that, why don’t I just break your neck?’
“So.. what brings you here?” You asked, trying to make conversation.
“Molly insisted I slept with you.” Hermione simply said, not intending to put double meaning in what she said. Of course, you were like your father after all, even with the calm, cold exterior you have from time to time, you liked joking around.
“Hermione I don’t think Molly would insist on such a thing!” You acted all shocked and dramatic. She shot her eyes up at you, she then suddenly hits your shoulder. “What are you insinuating? You are ridiculous.”
You chuckled, rubbing your shoulder. You’re back, the you before the battle of hogwarts, the you she deeply fell in love with.
After your father’s demise, you had gone cold. You weren’t as cheerful as you were and everyone noticed. You would just dismiss everyone, walk silently to the library, sleep without saying goodnight like you usually would. You were grieving, mourning. Of course, Hermione understood. She tried to be there for you but you just kept pulling away, further and further. Hermione desperately wanted you to know that she understood you and that she’s there for you in every step of the way but to no avail. You were constantly pulling away from people. You loved her, deeply, that’s why you had to pull away. You didn’t want to hurt her more so, you subsequently let her go. Both of them never talked about it to anyone despite their pathetic attempts at making them open up. You had the walls of the Great Wall of China and Hermione just didn’t want to talk about it, it was upsetting to be reminded about how someone you have loved so dearly let you go. The group had settled down to an assumption that it was a mutual decision but in fact, it wasn’t. You decided on your own without letting her in. But she still understood, she always did.
But then here you are, joking around, laughing. She was frozen. She had longed for this moment for too long. Suddenly, she jumps into your arms. She had missed you so much, more than anyone could ever know. Taken aback, you were surprised at the sudden gesture.
“Hermione?” You had placed your hand on her back slightly nudging her. “Shh.” She shushed her.
Even when you weren’t a couple, she had missed having you as a friend. You were always there for her. When Ron was being a git back in fourth year, you had ran up to her and comforted her until she felt better. You cheered her on in third year as she punched Draco square in the face. In second year, you were there all throughout the time she was hospitalized for being petrified, pushing Harry and Ron to go to the Chamber of Secrets alone. And in first year, you immediately ran after her when Ron called her ‘mental’. You were the ultimate friend, and she was glad she had you as a friend and ultimately, as your girlfriend.
Ron really was causing problems. She still loved him though, as do you.
She pulled away from the hug. The bag was back on the floor. She then slapped your shoulder one more time. “Git.”
You smiled at her, picked up her bag and handed it to her. “Sorry for the mess, I wasn’t exactly expecting anyone to ‘sleep with me’ as Molly told you.” You put up air quotes cheekily. That earned another slap from her. “OW!” You dramatically exclaimed.
“so, where do you fancy sleeping?” You asked. You looked at her with those eyes, those eyes that she had desperately tried not to fall in love with back in 5th year. She stared at you unaware, not saying a word. “Well?” You raised your eyebrows. Hermione snapped out of it, panicked.
‘Stupid eyes.’
“I don’t know, the bed?” She replied, her words jumbled but still comprehensible. “Alright then, I’ll sleep on the floor.” You quickly replied. You then made your way to a chest, grabbed a pillow and a blanket.
“What?” she blurted out— sharper than she meant to. She stared at you as if you had just suggested snogging with a troll.
“Absolutely not!” Before you could protest, she was grabbing the pillow you had in your arms and put it on the bed. She began spreading it across one side after another and placed the pillow gently on the head of the bed. It was a big bed, enough room for both of them and possibly two more people. It seemed unreasonable to her that you— the owner of this house, the owner of this bedroom— had suggested settling on the floor.
You chuckled lightly, observing what she was doing. That quiet, low chuckle of yours—soft and warm like distant firelight—hit Hermione right in the chest.
‘stupid laugh.’
She didn’t look at you. Couldn’t look at you. Not when that sound still had the power to unravel her after all this time.
But she felt it—the tiny tremor beneath her ribs, the sudden tightness in her throat. That stupid, traitorous part of her heart that remembered how much she loved hearing you laugh… even if it was just a small one.
Her fingers fumbled slightly as she smoothed out the blanket on her side—a little too aggressively now—as if rearranging fabric could erase how flustered she suddenly was.
‘How dare you work your way to my heart?’
Then.
“Do you miss me, Hermione?” You teased, maybe a genuine question disguised as a joke. Her heart tugged, her stomach sank, her jaw tightened. She had felt every emotion in a split second with that stupid question. She didn’t look at her, it was too much for her. Maybe one look at her might drive her to do insane things.
“Oh piss off.” She dismissed your question. “Piss off? So you wouldn’t mind me sleeping on the floor then?” Hermione snapped her head back at you.
“You’re an absolute idiot. I cannot have you sleeping on the floor in your own house.” Hermione crossed her hands. “I don’t mind, ‘Mione. Besides, I don’t want to go over your boundaries.”
Boundaries? You used to be the person who suddenly crawled up on her bed just to cuddle, the person who had the audacity to throw your arms at her when they had won a quidditch match, the person who kissed her shamelessly in front of Filch after getting caught— usually Hermione would just bail you out. But of course time had passed and that was years ago and guess boundaries had been set during their time off.
Hermione had stayed silent. ‘right, boundaries’
“I’ll sleep on the floor then.” Hermione declared. “What? No! That’s absurd. You are my guest, I want to make you feel as comfortable as ever.” You defensively expressed.
“You are being ridiculous, Y/N.” Hermione looked away from you, “Am I?” You raised your eyebrows.
Hermione turned, facing you fully.
Your expression was calm—too calm. Those eyes, always so hard to read, held something quiet and careful… like you were genuinely asking if you were being unreasonable. Like the idea of sleeping on the floor in her own house wasn’t a big deal.
"Yes," she said firmly now—the Granger steel creeping back into her voice. "You're being ridiculous."
Then, without another word…
She sat down on her favourite side of the bed and patted the space gently, simply indicating that she wanted you to sleep beside her— no malice.
You looked down at the bed. You internally freaked out.
‘stop it stop it stop it stop it.’ Your heart pounded faster, louder than ever before. Even after all of those years apart, she had still managed to make your heart pound faster than the broomstick you had used all those years ago. You turned back, you wanted to leave, to clear your head.
A coward, that’s what you were.
Your feet started moving toward the door. A sudden grab caught your attention. You looked down at the hand on your wrist.
“Now where are you going?” Hermione asked, with a commanding voice. “I’m sleeping with Kreacher!” A high pitched voice escaped your mouth, unusual. Hermione’s forehead furrowed.
“What? That’s even worse!” Hermione exclaimed. “The loo then!” and another unusual voice. They were awkward, but not like the awkwardness they had felt after they broke up, instead, it was a good kind of awkward. The kind that made your heart pound, the kind where you’re caught staring at your crush— and in this case— the kind where two people had realized they still wanted each other.
“Just sleep here like you’re supposed to! We can put pillows in the middle!” Hermione suggested. Your eyes were glued to the floor, rather glued to your hands. “No!” Your back still turned away from her.
‘You are so bloody stupid, stubborn, ridiculous! ugh!’ Hermione thought to herself. “I want you here, stupid!” Hermione blurted out.
‘calm down, be cool, where the fuck did the cool one go?’ you assured yourself. ‘say something ‘stupid’!’
“Really now?” You flirted smugly, you turn to her. ‘THAT’S WHAT CAME OUT?’ Still internally freaking out. You smirked it all away.
Hermione was red in the face. Thank Merlin for the dim lights, otherwise she would be really obvious. For someone who always had something to say, she was awfully speechless.
“You really did miss me!” You recalled asking her the question earlier. All you thought about was to deflect every bit of feelings and turn it into flirting. Instincts?
Hermione was speechless still. All she could do was hit your shoulder again and again and again. “HERMIONE!” You freaked out like a little girl. You held her hands up. “Stop. That hurts.” You pouted jokingly.
“If you must insist, I shall partake my slumber in my quarters then. But, I’ll sleep on the floor. That’s final.” You turned all formal and posh.
“Ugh! You’re so stubborn!” Hermione exhaled. Not listening, you grabbed the pillow and the blanket you once grabbed from the chest before and stubbornly prepared a bed on the floor.
Hermione watched, jaw tightening with every movement you made.
You were actually doing it. Kneeling on the cold floorboards, spreading a blanket out with careful folds—like this was some noble gesture and not pure stubbornness. You had plopped everything down like a proper little camp.
Without a word—without asking or announcing anything—Hermione made her way over to you.
Hermione stood beside the bed, barefoot on the cold floor—her dark curls slightly messy from all the earlier fussing with blankets.
You watched her quietly, eyes following every small movement— how she bit her lower lip for a split second, how her shoulders tensed as if bracing herself… and then—
She stepped forward.
Not toward you. Not quite. But your little makeshift floor-bed.
And without warning—or asking permission—she grabbed one edge of your blanket.
“What are you doing?” You asked.
Hermione didn’t answer.
She just yanked—hard—on the edge of your blanket, tugging it up like she was reclaiming something stolen. The fabric slipped from under you as she effortlessly lifted the whole thing—pillow and all—and began dragging it across the floor.
You sat there, half-propped on one elbow now, eyes wide in confusion as she marched back toward the bed with your makeshift sleeping setup in hand.
Then came the look.
That sharp, stubborn Hermione Glare™—brow slightly furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line—
“I am not having this nonsense with you!”
Without breaking eye contact…
she dumped your pillow onto her side of the mattress.
Hermione didn’t hesitate.
One second, you were sitting on the floor—still processing what just happened.
The next?
Her hand shot out, firm and quick, wrapping around your forearm with surprising strength (for someone so small). And before you could react or protest—
“Hermione, wha-“
Yank.
She pulled.
Not violently. Not roughly. But decidedly. Like she was moving a stubborn suitcase that refused to roll into place.
You barely had time to brace yourself before her grip tightened slightly—and she started hauling you upward toward the bed.
“You are feisty today.” You told her. Hermione shot you a glare over her shoulder, the candlelight catching the fire in her dark eyes. “Feisty? No, you’re being ridiculous.”
You were being ridiculous.
Stubborn.
Adorable.
And since words clearly weren’t working…
Actions would.
“Stand up.” She commanded and you did exactly that.
Push.
Hermione had pushed you to bed, looming over you with her hands on her hips. You laughed, amused at the effort Hermione suddenly had to do.
“Alright! Alright! What are you going to do next? Pin me down to prevent me from leaving?” You said in between laughs. And you know what? She did exactly that. She straddled your lap. Hermione was on you. You hadn’t been this close since you were dating. A blush creeped up on your cheeks.
And there she stayed.
Your wide eyes met hers—and for once? She wasn’t looking away first. “Well? Now what?” Hermione asked smugly. Still red, you pushed her face away. “Get off me!” You exclaimed. She held her ground, refusing to get off you.
Then.
A sound was formed. You had poked her sides, she glared down at you. You continued to poke her sides, eventually tickling her. A giggle threatened to escape her mouth, shattering her commanding presence above you.
“Stop that!” She commanded. You didn’t listen, you hadn’t listened since the beginning, what was stopping you now? You continued poking her sides. Hermione was fighting you and herself from laughing. Eventually, the giggles had come out of her mouth. You smiled with her as you were torturing her with tickles.
It had been a long while since they had fooled around like this. You both missed this, you were just too proud to admit it to yourselves.
The door accidentally opened wide, revealing the four of them— Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Neville— grinning amongst themselves. They were proud one second, the next they were embarrassed as you and Hermione turned to look at them.
They had been watching the whole thing.
Aight imma head out, im tired. pt2? idk
