The bed is empty.
When Hermione realizes that she's sleeping alone, she opens her eyes and rolls her head back to look at the clock. It's only six in the morning, which means she should have two warm, heavy bodies lying next to her because they rarely wake up before her. Normally, she has to nudge them or pinch or just crawl over them if it's before seven. If they're not in bed right now, something must be wrong.
It's a Sunday, too, she realizes as she frowns at her pillow. That means they should be sleeping here if it's before nine, at the earliest. Sunday is their lazy morning to lie in bed and indulge in morning naughtiness after a busy week. She knows they would have woken her up if anything was wrong, which means they both snuck out of bed intentionally. Probably sneaking an early morning flight on their day, she decides, muttering as she rolls out of bed and goes to use the toilet.
After she washes her hands, she yawns and goes back into their bedroom. Ron's shirt is lying on the floor, so she picks it up and pulls it on over her head. It's bigger than Harry's shirt, but Harry's finally learned to put his on the chair or in the hamper instead of just wherever he takes it off. Maybe in another five years, they'll be able to teach him not to drop things on the floor. Until then, she can't really complain today because it was more comfortable than the nightgown she'd left in the bathroom.
The house is quiet. Too quiet. They must be gone because neither of them is ever this quiet in the mornings. By the time they woke up, they were usually going on full energy. Ron would talk and do something energetic that made her tempted to throw her coffee on him and Harry would finish up files he'd told her he finished the night before just so she'd kiss him goodnight, which never stopped at a kiss. She had figured out that routine years ago, after their relationship had first become more than friendship, but she still lets Harry think he can fool her.
She can hear Kreacher humming in the parlor as she walks past, causing her to smile despite her annoyance at Harry and Ron not waking her up to let her know they were leaving. By the time she reaches the kitchen, she has to wonder when she'll ever remember just to Apparate because there are just too many floors in this house. The kitchen smells like fresh coffee and chocolate. Chocolate? She frowns and enters the room, stopping in the doorway as she surveys the scene. There's flour on the counters, frosting on the floor, and two men sleeping with their heads on the kitchen table.
Before them is a plate of oddly shaped baked items. They smell a little burnt, which is overpowered by the chocolate until she gets closer. She steps closer and sees that it's chocolate sweets that she assumes are supposed to be shaped like hearts. Not real hearts, but the heart-shape that is most recognized. Of course, these do look more like the lumpy heart that beats in everyone's chest.
There are words written on them in bright colored frosting, and it's obvious who wrote what. Harry's words are simple and sincere, like 'We love you' and 'You're gorgeous', though she notices that he either misspelled it or it was too big for the chocolate. Ron's words are crude but annoyingly endearing anyway, though she's tempted to send Molly that one with 'Fuck me hard' written on it just to hear the howler arrive.
Instead, she runs her fingers through Ron's hair and then touches Harry's cheek before she moves a chair between them and sits down. They're a complete mess, the kitchen will give Kreacher fits, and the sweets aren't likely edible, but it's still a great start to a silly holiday like Valentine's Day.
End
Morning
Story Notes:
2/14/08