It Began With His Eyes
by bluetomatopasta

Rating: PG13
Ship: Harry & Hermione
Canon: Books 1 - 6
Genre: Humor, Romance
Status: Complete
Length: 13,477 words in 10 chapters
Published: 24 Mar 2006
Last updated: 21 Jul 2006

Harry has realized that he loves Hermione, and Hermione has realized that she loves Harry. Will a bit of a nudge (well,
shove, really) from their friends get them together?

From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/5881/

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1. And They Meet

A/N: So, this is my first time posting on Portkey. I'm kind of excited, but I'm also rather scared. I want to live up to
the high standards Portkey sets...so I'd appreciate reviews/comments/criticisms/flames. Whatever you're in the mood for.
This story is already written (except for the last chapter), so it shouldn't take too long to post. Unfortunately, that
also means that it'll be hard for me to change. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story!

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me. NONE, I tell you.

Summary: Pretty much completely AU (is that even allowed?). Hermione is a reserved girl, until she meets and wants to
impress Harry Potter, the most popular guy in school. But before they can get together, there are a few obstacles they
have to overcome.

__________________
“C’mon ‘Mione, pleeeease? Just this once? I promise, I’ll go easy on you; just take your hair down out of that awful bun
and wear a shorter skirt. There’s no need to be embarrassed – you’ve got great legs, I know you do.”

“For the last time: NO, Lyss! It doesn’t matter what clothes I wear. It doesn’t make a difference, because I’m ugly!”
Hermione snapped at her younger sister Alyssa. The latter had been trying to get Hermione to lighten up her appearance
for the last two years.

“How does the little bugger even know so much about fashion, anyway,” thought Hermione. “After all, she’s only twelve!
When I was in seventh grade, I never thought about those things.” Hermione’s musings were interrupted by a voice
shouting:

“Hermione Jane Granger! Get a move on or you’ll be late for school!”

“Coming, Mom!” Hermione replied, grabbing her messenger bag, which served as her backpack for school. “Bye, Lyss!” she
called over her shoulder as she rushed down the steps. Hermione made her way into the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast
and was greeted by her father, who was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper and drinking a cup of coffee.

“Morning, ‘Mione,” he yawned.

“Good morning,” she replied. “Late night?”

“Yeah. This case is really pushing me to the wall. I mean, all the evidence is pointing towards his guilt, yet he claims
he’s innocent!” William Granger was a lawyer, and he was currently dealing with a high-profile murder case. Today he was
due in court.

“Well, good luck today Dad,” Hermione replied. Not that he needed it, of course. Her father’s firm Granger & Denley was
well-renowned for its excellence. He was one of the best lawyers in the country, and his job made it so that the Granger
family could live in East Manhem, a wealthy suburb of Los Angeles.

The town consisted of huge homes, many of which were secluded or waterfront homes. Because of the relatively small size
of the town, there were pretty much two options for high school. One was Horizon, the private school, and the other was
East Manhem High School, more commonly known as EMHS. Although EMHS was a public school, it was as good as, if not
better than, Horizon. The acceptance rate to top universities was higher, although the classes were larger. Only those
parents who felt the need to send their children to a private school paid the high rates of Horizon. But William Granger
and his wife Marie had agreed that bragging rights weren’t as important as college and money in the bank.

Besides, the Grangers needed money to maintain Alyssa’s demanding life as “Alyssa Granger: fashion beacon of East Manhem
Middle School.” Because of the fact that Hermione didn’t go to Horizon, which was within walking distance of her house,
she also had her own car. It was a silver Mercedes CLK 320, and it was her baby.

With this thought in her head, Hermione hugged her father, pecked her mother on the cheek, and headed outside to the
garage. After admiring the way her car (which she had secretly nicknamed Angelina, after a name she had heard at her
school and instantly took a liking to) gleamed in the dim lighting of the fluorescent garage lights for a few moments,
Hermione tossed her bag in the passenger seat and climbed in. As she started the ignition, she glanced at the clock. Its
neon green numbers read 7:47.

“Shit!” Hermione exclaimed. Her school started at 8:00, and it was a 20 minute drive. However, if she drove over the
speed limit, she might be able to make it. With this in mind, she pealed out of the driveway and down the street. Her
whole car ride to school was at the speed of 55 mph. She didn’t want to go too fast, after all. Angelina was new, and
Hermione’s parents trusted her not to violate any laws.

Even though Hermione sped the whole way to school, she arrived there at 8:01. Teachers would mark students tardy if they
arrived after 8:05, so she still had 4 minutes to get to her first class, which was history.

Today was actually a very important class, because they were being assigned partners for their upcoming research papers.
Hermione was rather excited about this, as history was her favorite class. Many people believed the teacher, Miss
McGonagall, to be very strict, but Hermione was on the teacher’s good side, and there were a few benefits to this.

Hermione hurried up the steps to the school, wrenched open the door, and promptly tripped over something rather large
that was sitting on the floor directly in front of the door. She muttered an “Oomph” as her butt connected with the
floor, and was about to tell the person off for sitting like this in front of the door, but when she looked up, she
found herself staring into the most beautiful, captivating green eyes she had ever seen. Wait a minute – she knew those
eyes! They belonged to none other than Harry Potter, the most gorgeous, most popular, most sought-after boy in school.
Hermione shook her blinked when she realized Harry was talking.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern filling his eyes. “It looked like you took quite a fall there.”

“Oh yes. I’m fine, thanks,” Hermione murmured, still under the spell his eyes had cast over her. She accepted the hand
he offered her, and was surprised to feel a tingle shoot up her arm when she came in contact with it.

Harry, unbeknownst to Hermione, was experiencing the same feelings. At first, he was surprised and a little angry (even
though it was his fault) when he felt somebody trip over him, but then he looked at the person. She was the most
beautiful girl he had ever seen, what with her silky brown hair and beautiful brown eyes. They were flecked with amber
specks, and her hair had highlights of the same color. These two features were the first to capture his attention, but
when his eyes were drawn to the rest of her face, he realized that this part of her body was just as beautiful. That
nose, that long and slender neck, those full and utterly kissable lips. “Wait a minute,” he thought. “Where did that
come from?” Harry started when he heard the girl emit a little whimper of pain. This seemed to break him out of the
spell.

“Are you alright?” he asked her. When she murmured her assent, he stood up and offered her a hand to do so as well. He
was surprised to feel a tingle shoot up his arm when she touched his hand with her own. He watched her stand up, her
skirt (GULP) hiking up her long, shapely legs. She put a hand up to smooth back some of the strands of hair that had
fallen out of her bun. Wait a minute, he thought. I know her! This is…oh, what was her name?...Hermione Granger!

“I know you,” he said. “You’re Hermione Granger! You’re in my history class! You’re really smart, too.”

“Um...thanks,” Hermione laughed nervously. “But you can call me Mione. Most people here do, except of course that horrid
bitch Cho Chang. I mean – up –” Hermione blushed furiously and clamped her hand over her mouth, realizing that she had
just badmouthed Harry’s girlfriend. To her surprise, he chuckled.

“Oh no, that’s all right,” he said, taking her hand down from her mouth (there went that tingle again, she thought). “We
all know that Cho can be quite the little devil when she wants to be. Besides, I like a girl that speaks her mind,” he
added, flashing Hermione a lopsided smile that made her heart stop for a second. She blushed.

“Why am I acting this way, like some silly school girl?” Hermione berated herself silently. “I’m not usually this
squeamish. Sure, Harry’s unbelievably gorgeous, but this is still not like me.” Out loud she said, “Um, we really should
get to history. Miss McGonagall is assigning partners for the big history project.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry agreed. “We probably should. That project is pretty important.” And he offered Hermione his arm, which
she blinked at for a second before linking her own arm through it.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed that...and sorry the chapters are so short in this story. They just happened that way. As all
authors say, please review! I'd really appreciate your feedback.
Love, Kaye.

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2. A Chance to Learn

A/N: Man, I love Portkey! You guys are the greatest, you really are. Because of your great reviews, I decided to post
this REALLY soon. I was planning to wait 'til tomorrow...but I wanted to thank you. To AnonymousWestern-Girl and that
crazy kid - I'm not sure yet about Ron. Maybe he'll fit in later, but if he does, it'll only be a small part. To
alayneni - I thought this was going to be done in five chapters, but when I tried to write that fifth one, I ended up
adding some more plot. So I'm not sure about how long it'll be...maybe eight chapters? And thanks to everybody else (you
know who you are) for reviewing and reading. I'm soo glad you guys like it!

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything that you recognize as belonging to JK Rowling.

Harry, with Hermione on his arm, made it down the hallway to Miss McGonagall’s room uneventfully, talking and laughing
about random subjects. They were still laughing when they walked into the classroom, but stopped suddenly when they
realized that the entire class was staring at them, including Miss McGonagall. How often is it that you see the most
popular boy in school associating himself with, well, a non-popular person? Miss McGonagall, who had always had a soft
spot for Hermione, cleared her throat, easing the pressure on the two and effectively capturing the attention of every
student in the class.

“Since Miss Granger and Mister Potter seem to have mastered the art of being late to class, I would assume that they
would also succeed as partners in our new history project, which is a research paper on any aspect of American History
you wish. I will give you the specifics of the project after assigning partners. Starting with Cho Chang and…let’s see,
yes. Miss Brown. Miss Patil, you and Mr. Weasley. Longbottom, you and…” as she reeled off pairs for the project, Miss
McGonagall gave herself a virtual pat on the back. She had watched these two, and knew that all they needed was a shove
in the right direction. Besides, with two superb minds like these, there was bound to be an excellent paper produced at
the end.

“I think we should do a biography on John F. Kennedy,” Hermione suggested.

“But why?” Harry asked. “That’s so cliché. Let’s do something more exciting, like a war!” Hermione rolled her eyes.
Honestly. A war? How barbaric.

“If you want to do a war so badly, how about the events leading up to the Civil War? Not so brutal, but at least you’ll
get some action.”

“Yeah! That’s a great idea,” Harry exclaimed, his green eyes lighting up at the prospect. “There was that John Brown
massacre or something, right? Oh, this’ll be good.” He and Hermione were sitting at the front of Miss McGonagall’s
classroom, choosing a topic for their research paper. They were sitting rather intimately, with their heads bent over
the desk and their shoulders almost touching.

“So now that that’s settled, we need to decide on a work schedule. Your house or mine?” Hermione inquired.

“Er – would it be O.K. if we worked at your house? My aunt and uncle aren’t very welcoming to my friends. My aunt has
always held a sort of grudge against her sister, who was my mother,” Harry replied nervously. Hermione realized that she
didn’t actually know very much about Harry’s home life, so she worked up the courage to ask more about it.

“Why do you live with your aunt and uncle?”

“My parents died in a car crash when I was one. That’s how I got this scar,” Harry explained, lifting up his unruly
raven bangs to show her the curious lightning bolt-shaped scar that resided on his forehead. “Since then, I’ve been
living with my aunt and uncle. So since you’re my friend, I don’t think they’d take very kindly to you. I just think it
would be better to avoid confrontation and just go to your house.”

“Sure, that’s fine. We can work on it today, if you want,” Hermione offered.

“Sorry, no can do. I have crew practice today. How about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow’s cool. If you meet me out front after school, I can give you a ride,” Hermione said.

“Thanks. My aunt and uncle won’t buy me a car. My cousin Dudley has one, though,” Harry said bitterly. Then he smiled.
“But perhaps it’s all for the best. Now I get a ride from a beautiful girl.” Hermione blushed at this compliment.

---------------------------

“So…what was it like sitting next to the gorgeous Harry Potter?” Lavender Brown asked her friend Hermione as they left
Miss McGonagall's class. “Was he nice? Charming? Smart? Tell us!”

“Well actually, he was all of those things. I was actually kind of surprised,” Hermione replied. “Did you know that he
lives with his aunt and uncle, and they’re mean to him?”

“Yeah, I’d heard that,” said Parvati Patil, Hermione’s other best friend. “They live down the street from me. Their
front lawn is the most anal thing you’d ever see. But back to Harry. You’re gonna have to work on the project outside of
school, right? When are you meeting him?”

“Um, tomorrow. He’s coming to my house,” Hermione replied.

“Ooh! Please tell me you won’t be talking about school and stuff with him,” Lavender warned. “Cuz Mione, he is the
most-sought-after male in school. You don’t have a chance if you act all nerdy.”

“Lav, please. It’s not like I have a choice. This is a school project! What do you expect me to do? Give him a lap
dance? Besides, I’m not even trying to ‘get’ him,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, right. Tell you what, d’you guys want to come over to my house after school today? My brothers are going to be at
their piano lesson, so we’ll have the pool to ourselves,” Parvati suggested.

“Cool! I’ll just have to go home to get my suit,” Lavender said.

“Me too. I don’t have anything to do today, so I can go,” Hermione said. She always enjoyed spending time with her best
friends, and Parvati’s house was as good a place as any. Especially with her rock-bottom pool. Even though her friends
constantly talked about boys and makeup, Hermione always had a good time. Besides, if she was going to be hanging out
with Harry Potter, she might need some FA.

FAFashion advice, for those who weren’t sure. Again, thanks so much for your reviews! You guys sure make a first-time
author feel loved.

Thanks for reading! Please review.

Love, Kaye.

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3. Yardwork

A/N: Sorry the chapters are so short in this story...I dunno, they just seem to come out that way. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR
THE REVIEWS!!! You guys are SO awesome, and your encouragement really makes me feel great. Teehee. wannabeawizard: yeah,
I guess now that you point it out, Hermione's car is a little trophy-wifish. But I couldn't think of another kind of
car, and I like that one. And I swear, the Angelina thing had NOTHING to do with race lol. Hope you enjoy (the third
update in 24 hours!!)...

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything that you recognize as belonging to JK Rowling.

“Oh my god, ‘Mione,” Parvati squealed. “You look so hot like that! I don’t know why you hide yourself in those stupid
loose t-shirts and knee length skirts.” Hermione and Lavender were over at Parvati’s house for the afternoon, and
Hermione had finally given into the latter’s cajoling. So there she was, standing in front of the floor length mirror on
the door of Parvati’s bathroom. Hermione was wearing short jean shorts that just barely reached the bottom of her butt
(to her chagrin) and a black halter that tied behind the neck and at the small of the back. Her hair was caught up
loosely in a huge clip, and a few strands escaped the confines of the structure. Her bangs, too, were loosely framing
one side of her face. On Hermione’s feet were a pair of black flip-flops. Even though she was wearing flattering clothes
didn’t mean she had to go completely to the other side and start wearing pink. But she had to admit, her legs did look
pretty nice.

“Maybe this wasn’t so bad,” Hermione murmured, turning around to see how her back looked. Yep, not too shabby.

“Not so bad? Not so bad!” Lavender cried. “What are you talking about? You look gorgeous. Now all we need to do is put
on your makeup.” With that, she brandished an eyeliner pencil, a tube of mascara, and a tube of lip gloss. Subtlety is
always best when it’s your first time wearing makeup. There’s no need to scare anybody by looking like a geisha. Before
Hermione could protest, Lavender and Parvati started applying the cosmetics to her face, and with the combined
expertise, the job was completed in no time.

“So now that that’s over with, we’re going outside. You have to get a tan, babe! How can you live with yourself, what
with those sickly white thighs of yours. Sheesh! Grab a pair of my sunglasses and let’s go out to the front lawn.” While
Parvati gave a legitimate reason – Hermione’s thighs were pretty pale – the true nature of their venture was different.
She was trying to play a little bit of matchmaker with her friend and her neighbor.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Boy? Is that you? Make sure you close the door behind you. And don’t forget to wipe your feet before you come inside! I
just cleaned the floors and if you dirty them you’re going to clean them again! And why are you late?”

“Yes Aunt Petunia. And I had crew practice, remember? I told you this morning,” Harry replied calmly. Normally he would
have been indignant at his Aunt’s underestimation of his clean feet, but today he was too busy thinking…about someone.
As he was heading up the stairs to his small bedroom, he heard his aunt shriek from the kitchen again.

“Boy! Take care of the yard! The lawn needs to be mowed and the bushes need to be trimmed. Finish that and then you can
come in.”

“Yes Aunt Petunia,” Harry sighed. He had hoped that today he would actually get to start his homework before dinner. Oh
well, he might as well get it over with. Harry trooped outside and over to the garage, where he retrieved the lawn mower
(the Dursleys did not own one of those car-like mowers) and the hedge clippers. He also took the tool to scrape out the
weeds from between cracks. After picking up the knee pad, Harry headed outside to do some yardwork.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Ahhh. This is the life,” Hermione sighed. She, Parvati, and Lavender were laying on lawn chairs on Parvati’s huge front
lawn. Besides the fact that the warm sun was washing over them and they had an endless supply of cold sodas, there was a
hot guy working in the yard across the street and a couple of houses down.

“You’re telling me. That is one hot guy there! Let’s go over there,” Lavender suggested. Parvati just smirked, because
she knew exactly who that boy was. In fact, she thought, this was the perfect scenario to begin stage 2 of her plan.

“Eh, how ‘bout we give Hermione a shot?” Ignoring Hermione’s glare, Parvati grinned wickedly. “I dare you to go over
there and flirt with that guy.”

“What? That’s totally stupid!” Hermione cried.

“You don’t and I poor this bucket of ice water on your head,” Lavender threatened. Hermione looked up at her, not
exactly thinking that she would follow through. She was mistaken; Lavender was looming over her holding one of the tin
basins that had contained sodas but now only held ice water.

“Lav! I can’t believe you’d do this to me! I thought I was your best friend.”

“Oh, yeah? Well I would. So get your butt offa that chair. I have Parvati as my backup,” Lavender retorted.

“Fine! I’m going,” Hermione huffed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry was having a good time of his yardwork, surprisingly. He had spotted three girls over on Parvati’s lawn. One of
them was Parvati, he assumed, and one of the others was most likely Lavender. But he just couldn’t figure out who the
third one was.

Suddenly out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the girls get up and start to cross the street. “Well,” he thought.
“Might as well make the most of this.” With his back to the girl, he peeled off his shirt, because after all it was
pretty hot out and he was sweating profusely.

He heard quiet footsteps come up his driveway, and he turned around to see who it was.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hermione mumbled to herself about “inconsiderate people” and “fucking friends” as she crossed the street. But as she
neared the boy, she forgot about Parvati and Lavender. He really was something, especially with his messy hair and
muscles. He kind of reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t place who. Hermione was startled when he peeled off his
shirt. Well, it was pretty hot out, and he was working. But did he have to stand there, just looking so hot? It was
torture. Slowly, she started up the driveway and watched him turn around. She was surprised whose face she was met with.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Hermione?” Harry exclaimed. “Is that you?” Wow, she looked really different. Not that he was complaining of course –
she looked really hot with her revealing clothes. Her legs seemed to go on for miles…but this wasn’t the Hermione he was
used to. He kind of liked the conservative act, because it showed that she cared about more than her appearance. But, he
thought, a girl can look nice sometimes too.

“Uh, hi Harry,” Hermione choked out. She was still rather taken aback that this guy she had been admiring was Harry
Potter. Somebody she actually knew, and liked talking to. Her recovery was hindered by the fact that he was not wearing
a shirt, and his impressive pecs and abs were basically taunting her. “How are you?”

“What are you doing here? And why are you dressed like that?” Harry ignored her question.

“I’m over at Parvati’s for the afternoon, and she and Lavender wanted to give me a makeover. So I let them. Don’t you
like it?” She had her thoughts back now, and began the game that she had come over here to play.

“Of course. I came out here expecting to have a boring time, but who knew the view would be so nice?” Harry flirted
back. He enjoyed the blush that creeped up Hermione’s features. But then something flashed in her eyes, and she stepped
forward, placing a hand on his chest. His breath caught in his throat, and he just couldn’t help the impulsive action
that followed.

Slowly, he bent his head and placed his lips on Hermione’s. At first, she let out a little gasp of surprise, but slowly
her lips started to respond to his. Encouraged by this, Harry ran his tongue over her lips. She pulled back suddenly,
turned around, and ran down the driveway. She was out of sight before Harry could even react.

Warning for future chapters: a little dramatic/cheesy, but I needed some way to tie up some of the loose ends. Anyway,
you know the drill. Hope you enjoyed it. Please review, I love getting feedback!

Love, Kaye

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4. A Plan of Action

A/N: Sorry, but it's the last of the really quick updates. The next one probably won't be up for a couple days, at least
(school). To answer a few questions...probably no Ron, Dudley, or Malfoy, just because they didn't seem to fit in. But
who knows, I still have to write the last chapter. To wizardchick292: crew is rowing (in a boat). It was the only
"macho" sport (even though I do it) that I could think of at the time. So...hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling.

Hermione was surprised but also pleased when Harry took the initiative and kissed her. She enjoyed it, and was just
starting to get really into it when a picture of Cho Chang flashed before her eyes.

“Fuck!” she thought. “Harry has a girlfriend! I can’t do this, even if Cho is a bitch.” She broke off this kiss and
couldn’t look at Harry for fear of kissing him again. She ran down the driveway and across, ending up in front of
Lavender and Parvati, who were looking very concerned.

“Sweetie, what happened?” Lavender questioned. “It looked like everything was going well.” She hugged Hermione, who now
had tears silently running down her face.

“I – we kissed, but then I remembered that he has a girlfriend,” Hermione said. She knew that Parvati had known that it
was Harry, and had probably filled Lavender in with the details. “Even if it is Cho, I can’t do that to anybody.”

“Aww, ‘Mione,” Parvati said. “It’s OK. Besides, if Harry likes you, he’ll come through. And if he doesn’t, he wasn’t
right for you in the first place. But for now, you’re going to stay the rest of the night and you, me, and Lav can watch
movies and eat ice cream.” Hermione nodded her assent, grateful that she had such caring friends. But even with their
advice, she vowed that she would not let herself get too attached. If Cho found out what went down, Hermione’s school
life would be made a living hell.

Across the street, Harry had finished up in the yard and gone to take a shower. He felt kind of guilty, because even if
he was only dating Cho because she had basically coerced him into asking her out, Harry felt that he owed at least some
honesty. So, he decided, he would break up with her tomorrow. He would explain that he had never really had feelings for
her, and now she would be able to date any guy that she wanted. And then after school, he would be working on the
project with Hermione and he could explain everything to her. He had no doubt that everything would be all right by the
next evening, so he allowed his mind to wander over to Hermione.

She was sweet, smart, caring, and gorgeous. Hell, she didn’t like Cho and she had still respected the girl. That showed
the mark of a good person. Harry also admired her intelligence. He had always enjoyed good, stimulating conversation,
and Hermione provided just that. And again, he found his mind going back to how she looked in those shorts, and that
top. He felt his body reacting to the picture that formed in his mind and nipped things in the bud by turning the
shower’s temperature dial to cold.

--------------------------

“Um, Cho,” Harry began nervously. “I don’t really know how to say this, but –”

“What is it, baby?” Cho cooed as she ran her hands through his hair, her lips on his jaw and her right leg draped around
his left. Obviously, she wasn’t to be deterred from her morning snog (A/N: LOL I’ve always wanted to use that word).

“Well, I guess I’ll go right out and say it. I think we should break up.”

“What?” Cho shrieked, immediately letting go of him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that we should be able to see other people,” Harry replied patiently. He had been expecting a reaction like
this. Cho wasn’t exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. Besides, he doubted that any boy had ever broken up with her.
She was normally the aggressive one. “I just don’t know where this is going, and I’m looking for something else.” Harry
could have kicked himself for using such a trite phrase.

“Y-you can’t break up with me! I’m the best thing that ever happened to you! You’re nothing special, with that hideous
scar. In fact, I’m breaking up with you first! So there.” Cho turned on her heal and stomped off, probably to go find
some football player. Harry had no doubt that she would have a new boyfriend by the time lunch rolled around.

RINNNG! The morning bell signified the end of Harry’s musings and the beginning of McGonagall’s class, which he had with
Hermione.

-------------------------

Hermione was sitting nervously at her desk, waiting for Harry. She had tried to convince Miss McGonagall to switch
partners, but the older woman had stayed firm. She reminded Hermione that part of her grade was how well she worked with
others. Hermione didn’t have the guts to tell her teacher about what had occurred between she and Harry.

“Hey there ‘Mione,” drawled the voice of her affections and of her avoidance. “How’s it going?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Hermione replied coldly. Time to start distancing herself. “Last night I found a few things on
our topic, so we probably need to do more research. Here, you look in your history book and I’ll surf the net.” She
didn’t feel the need to explain that she had tried to work on the project as much as possible so that Harry wouldn’t
have an excuse to go to her house the next day, but Parvati and Lavender had prevented her from doing so. So now the
only thing to do was immerse herself in work so Harry wouldn’t be able to talk to her.

“Hermione,” Harry said, a little bit confused about her behavior, “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong, Harry,” was the stiff reply. “We just have a lot of work to do, and I’d like to get started on
it.”

“Well, we’re still meeting at your house after school, right? Good. We’ll talk then.” Harry followed Hermione’s lead and
started flipping through his history book, looking for information relevant to their topic.

Please review, of course XD. I'm an author; I have to say it. Um...what else? I just hope that the rest of my story is
as good as the first part. I guess I'll have to wait and see.

Love, Kaye

P.S. Sorry for the short chapters.

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5. In the Canteen

A/N: Screw it. I decided to post this, too. So yay for the double update! Disclaimer: I don’t own anything that you
recognize as belonging to JK Rowling.

Hermione was seated with Lavender and Parvati at a small table in the corner of the cafeteria furthest from the
"Popular" table, because Hermione was sure that Harry would be there. And if Harry was there, his bimbo of a girlfriend
would be, too. The best thing to do, if she wanted to avoid Harry, was to avoid any situation that had the potential of
interaction with him. In fact, it occurred to her, she didn't even want to think about Harry Potter.

"So, Parvati," Hermione began. "How's Padma doing? She went to...Italy, was it? For her school year abroad? How does she
like it so far?"

"She really likes it," Parvati replied, understanding that her friend wanted to talk about something other than her love
life. "She was telling me the other day abou--" she stopped talking as a large shadow blocked the light from their small
table.

"Please, don't mind me," came a pleasant voice. "I just have to ask Hermione a question." As she heard the person speak,
Hermione colored. The exact person she did not want to see had decided to take matters into his own hands. Harry Potter
had come to sit with her (A/N: that kind of reminds me of Malfoy's line "Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts.").

"Excuse me, Harry, but are you sure you know what you're doing? I'm sure your girlfriend would get quite miffed if she
knew you were here, sitting with the geeks," Hermione said coldly. Harry ignored her question for the moment.

"Am I still coming over to your house this afternoon, Hermione? You seemed to be pretty mad me during history, and I
just wanted to make sure that we're still gonna work on it, and if I still have a ride." He flashed her a grin as
Hermione groaned in frustration.

"Harry. Is Cho or is Cho not going to come over here and chew me out because you're not sitting with her? I don't want
to be at the receiving end of a squealy earful," Hermione huffed.

"I'm not going to answer your question until you answer mine. Seriously. We need to work on this project, 'Mione," Harry
teased.

"Fine," she said. "We'll work on the fucking project at my house, and I'll drive you there. So meet me in the parking
lot after school. OK? Is that what you wanted to hear? NOW ANSWER MY FUCKING QUESTION!" Hermione growled. To calm
herself, she took a sip of her water.

"Nah, she won't mind," Harry replied casually, enjoying a flustered Hermione. "She's not my girlfriend anymore."
Hermione lost control of her muscles momentarily and ended up spraying water from her mouth all over Harry.

"Wha- what happened? Did she finally crawl back into that hole she came out of?" To Hermione's complete surprise, Harry
merely chuckled at this insult to his girlfriend (despite what he said, Hermione was inclined to believe that Cho would
not give some thing as good as Harry up without a long, drawn-out fight).

"I decided that I was tired of Cho treating me as a possession. Besides, I've found somebody better. Someone that I
actually care about," Harry said earnestly. He looked Hermione straight in the face as he said this, and his green eyes
radiated sincerity. Making it the second time in less than five minutes, Hermione blushed. She broke eye contact, and
finally noticed that Harry was wet, thanks to her. Grateful for the distraction, she picked up a napkin and began
dabbing at his face. After a couple of seconds, Harry grabbed her wrist and held her hand to his cheek.

"Do you know who that person is?" Harry asked. Hermione, wanting to make Harry uncomfortable in order to pay him back
for being so annoying a minute ago, shook her head. She wanted to hear it from his very own lips. "Well, it's a
beautiful, kind, smart, funny, caring girl," he explained, playing along. "In short...it's you."

Before she had any chance to react, she found her lips on Harry's. He let go of her hand and she moved it to his hair,
as he moved his now-free hand to her waist and pulled her closer. This time, Hermione gratefully accepted Harry's tongue
into her mouth when he demanded it. They let themselves revel in the pleasure, as everything else faded from their
minds. Their only thoughts were of each other, and their only cares were for each other. Nothing could get in the way of
this...this paradise, which was the only word Hermione's mind could think of to describe Harry's kiss. Nothing except --

"What the fuck are you doing with my boyfriend?"

---------------------------------

Lavender and Parvati, who had convertly left the table once Harry and Hermione had started talking, watched the
interaction from afar. They saw Harry chuckle at something Hermione had said, and they watched as the two had slowly
started leaning in towards each other. And when the kiss finally came, it was all they could do to stop from squealing
loudly.

They silently watched as things started to get pretty heated when something caught their attention. There was a person
making her way through the cafeteria, and slowly getting closer to the table at which Harry and Hermione were
passionately snogging.

The two friends groaned simultaneously as they recognized the new player's Prada mules, tanned and shapely legs, micro
mini, and long, luscious black hair. The rest of the cafeteria followed Cho Chang's progress across the cafeteria, and a
hush fell as people realized that the Queen Bee had left her hive and was in the "geeky" corner now. Only something big
would draw her away from her popular friends, and they wanted to know what it was.

Cho stopped in front of a small table with two oblivious occupants. They were oblivious because they were too busy
snogging each others' brains out. A collective gasp could be heard as the male participant, at least, was recognized.
Cho's voice rang out clearly in the now-silent cafeteria:

"What the fuck are you doing with my boyfriend?"

A/N: Don't you just hate Cho? LOL as you can see, I've tried to add some teenage angst, but it's obviously nothing
Hermione can't deal with.

Once again, I hope you've enjoyed it! Please review.

Love, Kaye.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

6. A Bad, Bad Lunch

A/N: Yeah, yeah. I love you guys too much. TRIPLE update!! Now who's the best author around? MUAHAHA.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just a bored person wanting to write a
teenage story.

"What the fuck are you doing with my boyfriend?"

At the sound of Cho's angry voice, Harry and Hermione broke apart. Both turned red, though for different reasons.
Hermione was extremely embarrassed at having been caught kissing Harry in front of the whole school, and was also
ashamed at having been fooled by Harry, as it was obvious that he had been lying about breaking up with Cho. Harry, on
the other hand, was extremely angry. He knew that Hermione was immediately going to think the worst, and he would have
some explaining to do. But more than that, he was angry that Cho thought she still had some pull over him, when all he
really wanted to do was be with the girl he really cared about, and perhaps even (though it was too soon to say for
sure) loved.

"What are you talking about, Cho? I broke up with you, remember?" Harry said angrily. The students in the cafeteria, who
had turned their attention from Cho to Harry and Hermione in order to gauge their reactions, went back to looking at
Cho.

"Baby, why would you do that?" Cho cooed. "You know we were just having a little disagreement. There's no need to go off
with some other girl." Here Cho dropped the pretense of sweetness as she glared at Hermione. Hermione glared right back
at her.

"Hermione is not just some other girl, Cho. She's not some in-between girl. I care about her, Cho. And I never cared
about you. If anything, you were the in-between girl," Harry retorted. Hermione, while a small part of her was
ingratiated that Harry felt this way, was even more mortified. "Oh shit, she thought. What is Cho going to do to me?"

But it seemed that Cho was going to give up without much of a fight. She didn't respond to Harry, and only sneered at
Hermione before turning around. For one brief moment, Hermione thought that Cho might just walk away, but then Cho
spoke.

"If one person in this school ever talks to these two people again, you can be assured that you will always be an
outcast in this school," was all Cho said. But it was enough. If someone with as much popularity, and therefore power,
as Cho said something like that, you know it would be true. Nobody dared to condradict the demands issued by Cho and her
cronies, just because they didn't want to be outcasts. So, Cho had effectively cut off Harry and Hermione from the rest
of the school. They were now doomed to have a miserable social life for the remainder of their time at EMHS -- unless
Cho deemed it prudent to allow them back into the social circle.

--------------------------

Lavender and Parvati had been watching the whole exchange, horrified for their friend, and no even more horrified at
Cho's announcement. Lavender gave Parvati a look, and Parvati nodded in return. Together, they marched up to Cho.

The slap Lavender gave Cho reverberated in the cafeteria. Cho looked stunned for a moment, and then smiled. She could
now add Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil to the Outcast List. Not bad for one day. But before Cho could say a word,
Parvati spoke.

"You know what, Cho? I'm tired of you. I'm tired of you trying to dictate our lives, when really, you're the one with
the problem. Where do you get off, telling us what to do? Who gave you the right to decide who's "popular" and who's
not? I've put up with you for years, but now I think there's something Lav and I need to do." With that, she and
Lavender picked Cho up. The latter struggled, but was hardly in a position to do any harm. The two girls, still carrying
the third, walked over to the large trash can that stood beside the cafeteria doors.

"I think it's time to go where you belong," Lavender said. And with that, she and Parvati dumped Cho into the bin.

From somewhere behind them, somebody began to clap.

-------------------------

"Damn Harry," Hermione thought as she walked through the parking lot to her car. "And damn Cho. And damn the whole
bloody school for listening." She was still seething over the confrontation in the cafeteria. She was extremely proud of
Lav and Parvati, however, and how they had handled the situation. While it had seemed like something out of a horribly
cheesy movie, she had to admit that it had done the job.

As she finally reached her car, she rummaged in her purse to find her keys. Her search was interrupted by somebody
clearing their throat, and she nearly screamed.

"Holy shit, Harry. What the hell are you doing here?"

"You invited me to your house, remember? And you said you'd give me a ride," was the reply.

I think there's only one more chapter left! But it's not written yet, so who knows. I like to drag things out. And, of
course, I also write short chapters...but wait, what does that have to do with anything? Hmm.

Hope the trash can wasn't too cheesy. LOL. If it was, tell me in your review! (hint hint).

Love, Kaye

------------------------------------------------------------------------

7. A Big Twist

A/N: Yep, it’s finally here. Sorry about the horrendously long wait! Ok, so on the whole, I think most people liked the
trash can thing, but I got a few people saying it was too cheesy. Yeah, I kind of thought so too, but I couldn’t think
of anything else to do. I’m sorry to those who wish to see magic/more characters, but they’re harder to write! Umm…I’m
sorry about Hermione’s going back and forth, but it was really just to add some more plot to the story (I know,
horrendous literary tactic, but hey. I needed something). Hopefully she’ll get straightened out. And what else is there?
ASIDE FROM THANKING YOU, ALL OF MY LOVERLY REVIEWERS!!!! Again, thanks to everybody who reviewed! YAY Emma, my first
self-professed reader fan.

Wannabeawizard: sorry about the trash can. I alluded to that above. And Harry=player? Well, I didn’t really mean for him
to turn out that way, it’s more that Cho pressured him before, and now he’s free, and he really likes Hermione…but I
guess I can see where you’re coming from (the suave lines, and all). And no, the social hierarchy at my school isn’t
like this. I really based it more on what I’ve seen in movies and read in books. I’m sure there are some schools who
have a really severe separation like this, but most are more subdued.

The car ride to Hermione’s house was mostly silent: occasionally Harry would try to strike up a conversation, but
Hermione’s monosyllabic answers were enough to quell those sparks, and eventually Harry gave up. After that the silence
loomed, and didn’t help the awkwardness between the two. Finally, finally, they were pulling into a driveway and were at
Hermione’s house.

“So this is your, house, huh?” Harry asked, taking in the sights.

“Yep,” Hermione replied, still continuing with the short answers. She pulled the car into the garage, turned off the
ignition, and had already unbuckled her seatbelt before turning to Harry and asking, “You coming?”

“Um…yeah. I was just, uh, admiring the house.” In reality, Harry had been steeling himself for the imminent
conversation, and what exactly he should tell Hermione to convince her of his devotion and trustworthiness. Hermione
just shrugged and got out of the car, leading the way into the house.

-------------------------------------------

“Lyss! I’m home!” Alyssa came striding down the stairs at the sound of her sister’s voice, but stopped short when she
saw a boy. Was that…no…wait, yes…Harry Potter? She squealed and rushed over to him.

“OMG,” she gushed. “Harry? Harry Potter? I’d recognize you anywhere, Hermione’s told me so much about you!” Here she
paused to allow her sister to insist that she had not done any such thing, and to allow Harry to raise one of his
eyebrows in amusement. “C’mon in! I’ll show you to the kitchen, and get you something to eat. So why are you here?”

Alyssa dragged Harry off to the kitchen, leaving a grumpy Hermione behind. However, she took this opportunity to go
upstairs, drop off her bag, and change her clothes into something a little more lounge-y.

-------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Alyssa stopped her incessant chatter as she heard her sister stomp up the stairs. She turned
to a bemused Harry and said,

“So do you really like Hermione? Because I swear, I’m not letting you play around with my sister’s feelings. I may look
small, but I can be extremely vicious when I want to be.”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” Harry chuckled. “No reason to get all worked up. I do like Hermione, and I’m willing to do
anything to prove to her that I’m not some sort of player, or anything.”

“Well, then,” Alyssa said, obviously pleased. “I’m gonna help you. What exactly did you do to make my sister so mad at
you?”

“Um, well, I didn’t do anything. It was my, girlfriend. Sorry, ex-girlfriend, Cho,” he chuckled at Alyssa’s expression
of disgust: obviously Cho’s reputation had spread. “She, being the evil person she is, got extremely jealous of Hermione
and tried to say that I hadn’t actually broken up with her. Hermione, who I think was still a little bit wary of our
relationship, believed her. Plus, she was humiliated in front of the whole school.” Harry stopped, panting after his
long explanation.

“So…um. Basically, Hermione’s worried that Cho is going to break you guys up,” Alyssa analyzed. “So what you need to do,
is convince her that you’re in it for the long run, and that nothing, including Cho, is going to convince you to leave
her.”

Harry looked rather relieved at Alyssa’s obvious expertise, and nodded to show that he would follow her advice. Just
then, Hermione came stomping down the stairs and into view. She was wearing black sweats and a light blue cami.

“How can she look so sexy wearing sweatpants?” Harry thought to himself, gulping as he tried to control himself. Alyssa
gave him a pointed look and politely excused herself from the room. Taking this as a cue to begin speaking, Harry stood
up, walking over to Hermione.

“Hermione, I know we haven’t known each other for very long,” he began. “But I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you and
all that stuff, and I just wanted to tell you that I want to be with you. And nothing, especially Cho, is going to get
in the way of that.”

“Did Alyssa tell you what you should say to me?” Hermione asked, seeing right through his cliché speech, and laughing
when he nodded. “No matter, though. If you were willing to say such a trite chick flick-y speech, I know that you were
telling me the truth. And I’m sorry that I’ve been so back-and-forth. I was just…kind of confused as to why you would
want somebody like me when Cho is throwing herself at you.”

“‘Somebody like you,’ Hermione? What do you mean by that? You’re smart, funny, and bloody sexy, if I may say so. Do you
have any idea what you’re doing to me right now, and all you’re wearing is sweatpants and a tank top? You’re 10 times –
no, a hundred times the girl Cho is. And I want you. Yes, you,” Harry asserted. And ignoring her incredulous look, he
pulled Hermione close to him and planted his lips on hers.

As fireworks erupted behind their eyelids, urging them to push against each other, both Harry and Hermione knew that
this was the real deal, and that everything would work out.

***********************************

Hermione awoke from her abnormally elaborate dream breathing heavily and found herself staring into a fire. She must
have fallen asleep in the common room again. Brushing this thought aside, she suddenly realized what her dream
signified. After all these months of pondering her…how to describe them…changes in her feelings towards Harry, she
finally knew.

She was in love with him.

Hermione rushed up the stairs leading to Gryffindor’s girls dormitories, thinking about how to convince Harry to return
her ardor.

---------------------------------------------------

At the exact same time as Hermione, Harry Potter awoke from his abnormally elaborate dream gasping for breath. After
months of pondering the changes in his thoughts about Hermione, he finally knew.

He was in love with her.

Harry lay awake for hours contemplating how he could convince Hermione to return his amorous feelings.

A/N: MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA did you guys get that last bit? I decided to indulge those of you who asked for magic, and Ron and
Draco and Dudley, so this is the plan I came up with (I also wanted a way to extend the story. I mean, 7000 words?
That’s pretty short). These past 7 chapters have been a dream, and now Harry and Hermione are aware of their feelings
for each other. What will happen? Read on to find out!…and once again, I’m SOOO sorry that I haven’t updated for about 3
months! You know the drill: school, homework, sports, friends, etc. etc. And one last thing…I LOVE ALL OF YOU
REVIEWERS!! AND THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING!! (And does this make up for me not updating for so long?)

------------------------------------------------------------------------

8. Aftermath

A/N: Yay! Glad you liked the twist, and I hope you enjoy this installment! Also, this story is still AU…basically,
disregard HBP, and Draco is nice. So that means Dumbledore’s still alive, and there’s no such thing as a Horcrux.
Capisce? OK, now on with the story…

Breakfast the next day was a quiet affair: Harry and Hermione were plotting their strategies, and Ron, as usual, was
blissfully ignorant and stuffing his mouth with kippers, toast, and sausage. The rest of the 7th year Gryffindors were
not worried about the situation, figuring that Hermione was (as usual) worrying about her NEWTs and Head Girl duties,
and Harry about Gryffindor’s chance in the Quidditch Cup (this year he was team captain). So it was understandable when
the entire table bristled in defense of the Trio at the approach of the Headboy.

“Potty, Weasel, Grunger,” drawled a certain platinum blonde Slytherin. “How’s it going?” Without pausing for an answer,
he continued. “Grunger, McGonagall said that we have to talk to Peeves, who’s been tricking First Years. He’s charmed an
invisible wall into the middle of one of the corridors, and the little twerps keep walking into it.”

Hermione smiled and replied, “Sure, Draco,” over the loud snickers of Harry and Ron. Draco smiled back, and offered his
arm to the Head Girl, which she gratefully took. Draco had been on relatively good terms with the Trio since the demise
of Voldemort in their 6th year, which he demonstrated by calling Hermione, “Grunger,” instead of the insulting
“Mudblood.” But he still had his pride, and therefore took the same, rather sadistic, pleasure in distorting Harry and
Ron’s names. Hermione excused herself, and Harry glared slightly at Malfoy’s smug look.

-----------------------------------------

“Draco, I have to tell you something,” Hermione said as soon as they left the Great Hall.

“What is it, Granger? For the last time, no, I’m not going to shag you again. Last time was bloody awful,” Draco
smirked. Hermione laughed and swatted him on the back of his head.

“No, you prat. It’s about – it’s about – about…” Hermione stuttered. “Um, it’s about Harry.”

“About time you spat that out. Do you realize you said the word ‘about’ four times in that sentence?” He laughed when
Hermione swatted him and called him a prat again. “But anyway, what about Potter? Did he do something to hurt you?” He
whirled on her, grabbing her upper arms.

“No, Draco. Harry wouldn’t hurt me. It’s just that, last night I had this dream…” and she proceeded to describe her
vivid reverie. “And then I realized that it was a manifestation – too big of a word for you, Draco? It means ‘showing
something,’ or ‘sign’ – and in this case, my dream demonstrated my feelings for Harry. My feelings of…of love for
Harry.”

Draco was a little taken aback at the depth of Hermione’s feelings, but took it in without disrupting his suave
demeanor. He had, in fact, been expecting something like this to happen soon. Now that Voldemort was gone, both Harry
and Hermione would be able to focus on their own lives, and perhaps recognize the feelings that most others at Hogwarts
had already realized and accepted. Everybody knew that the black-haired, green-eyed Gryffindor Quidditch Captain’s heart
belonged to the brown-eyed, bushy-haired Head Girl, and vice versa. It was only a wonder that it had taken them so long
to realize their feelings for each other.

“So what do you want me to do about it, Hermione? Do you want me to woo him for you?”

“No, you dolt. I want you to help me decide what to do. Do I just tell him? Or do I not tell him, and forget about my
feelings? Or what?”

“Granger, you really are hopeless,” Draco sighed. “You should tell him, but don’t just clobber him over the head with
it…you have to be more subtle. But not too subtle. Potter’s a bit too thick to comprehend little hints.”

“Wow, thanks, Draco. That really clears things up. Now I know exactly what to do,” said Hermione, her voice dripping
sarcasm. Now it was Draco’s turn to swat her on the head, to which she responded by calling him a prat (again).

“Just hear me out, Hermione. I have an idea – don’t laugh or tell anyone else, or I swear I’ll hex you – but I have an
idea that I got from the Muggle book series ‘The Princess Diaries.’ Granger, I’m warning you! Don’t laugh! But anyway,
in the third book – yes, I did read more than one teenage girl romance novel, it was research for Muggle Studies, OK? –
Mia wins Michael over by writing anonymous love notes to him.” Hermione, who was still doubled over with laughter and
had tears of mirth streaming down her face, managed to choke out,

“So how, exactly, does that help me? You told me that I couldn’t be too subtle, or Harry wouldn’t catch on.”

“Fuck, Granger,” Draco swore. “How did you ever get to be the top witch in our year? The purpose of these notes is to
get Harry used to the fact that somebody is in love with him, and then you come along. And you drop your bomb. And that
bomb would be the fact that you are the one sending the letters.”

“Ahhh,” Hermione breathed, seeing the obvious brilliance of the plan. “So I get Harry acclimated to the idea, and then I
hit him over the head…only, it won’t hurt that much, because he’ll already know that somebody’s in love with him. The
only surprise will be the fact that it’s me, his best friend.” And Hermione was off in a world of her own, planning the
fine details and composing love poems.

Draco chuckled to himself and walked back into the Hall, forgetting about their original “Heads job:” the thing hadn’t
existed in the first place, it was only a ploy to get Hermione away from her two thick friends when it was obvious she
needed to talk to somebody about what was on her mind.

“Thank God I’m such a thoughtful, observant man,” Draco thought to himself as he grabbed his bag and took one last swig
of pumpkin juice before leaving for his first class.

----------------------------------------------

As Hermione and Malfoy were outside talking, Harry had mulled over his own plans. He knew that he didn’t want to be
sudden, because after all, how could he be sure that his best friend (operative word being friend) would return his
love? What he really needed was someone to help him.

“Something on your mind, mate?” Ron said, finally having finished snarfing down his breakfast and taking notice of his
friend’s contemplative silence.

“I was just…thinking about someone.” Ron nodded knowingly. He wasn’t that oblivious that he hadn’t noticed the obvious
attraction between his two friends. He knew that it was only a matter of time before the two accepted it themselves.

“Hermione, eh?” Harry almost choked on his pumpkin juice at this. “Finally realized you love her, huh? ‘S about bloody
time.”

Harry sighed, grudgingly accepting the fact that he had been blinder even than Ron.

“But I don’t know what to do, Ron! I think I’m just going to let alone, and hope that the feelings go away. Certainly
nothing I can do will make her love me as more than a friend.

“He’s going to need my help,” Ron thought to himself. And he knew just the person…

¬-----------------------------------------

The next day at breakfast, Hedwig brought Harry a small red card that read,

Your hair is raven black,
And your eyes are a green hue.
You may think I’ve fallen off the track,
But I really love you.

Harry and Hermione both turned red; Harry from the fear that this admirer would get in the way of he and Hermione, and
Hermione from embarrassment at how stupid her poem sounded when read aloud. Ron had paled because he was nervous that
somebody else had gotten to Harry before Hermione.

From a few tables away, a certain Slytherin looked on. He knew that he would have to lend another hand (or at the rate
this was going, a whole arm) to this situation if it were to get anywhere.

A/N: Well, that was my first in-Hogwarts chapter (ever!) and I hope it was believable. This chapter might be a little
rushed, but I'm tired and I want to go to bed…please review, and hopefully I’ll get the next chapter up soon! And yes, I
did actually borrow the love notes idea from the Princess Diaries series (good books, and much better than the movies),
and I thought it would be funny to throw that in there. Thanks for reading!

Love, Kaye

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9. Another Plan of Action

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter…and I think there will be only one more chapter after this one, because with this small
little plot, I won’t be able to drag it on much further than that (haha sorry). Just keep in mind that Harry and
Hermione have known each other for more than 6 years, so if it seems rather sudden, it’s just because the dream spurred
everything on. And thanks again for all of those reviews! Now on with the show:

“Psst…Weasley. Weasley! OY, YOU!” Draco rolled his eyes. That Weasley obviously had an earwax buildup in his ears.
Striding quickly forward, he rapped the red-haired boy on the soldier. Finally, finally, the boy turned around.

“Yes, Malfoy? You do know that in most countries, it’s good manners to call out people’s names in order to get their
attention, rather than inflict bodily harm.”

“Weasley, I’ve called your name three times already,” Draco said. “But that’s besides the point. I need to talk to you
about Hermione and Potter.”

“What about them?” Ron asked, not quite sure if Malfoy had already noticed his friends’ predicament.

“Relax, Ron,” Draco said, ignoring Ron’s look of incredulity at being addressed as ‘Ron.’ “I just wanted to talk to you
about –” here he took a furtive glance to see that nobody else was around “about Hermione and Potter, um, together.” Ron
was immensely relieved that Malfoy hadn’t been planning to curse them, or something.

“Well that’s all right then,” he said cheerfully. “Because I wanted to talk to you about that, as well. We need a plan,
because they’re obviously not going to do anything if they’re left to their own devices.”

“Yes, I’ve already formed a plan with Granger. I told her that she should…” Malfoy proceeded to tell Ron about the love
notes, and the two of them began to formulate a plan of their own.

-----------------------------------------

“Practice transfiguring your tea kettles wordlessly for homework tonight, class, and – wait, before you go! I have
another announcement!” Professor McGonagall called to her class, which was already half way to the door. “Next Saturday,
we are having a ball.”

“For what occasion, Professor? I don’t think there are any holidays around this time!” Seamus asked.

“You will have to inquire that of the Head Boy, Mr. Finnegan. The ball was his idea, so he will field any questions you
may have about it. Anything else? Then you may go.” The class turned and trooped out of the classroom, but Hermione held
back.

“Yes, Miss Granger? How can I help you?”

“Well, I was just wondering when Draco planned this ball, because we haven’t discussed anything of the sort. It just
seems very sudden that he’s just planning things without me,” Hermione said, and to her surprise, felt tears pricking at
the corners of her eyes.

“Why, Miss Granger!” McGonagall exclaimed, surprised at the girl’s tears. “Whatever is the matter?”

“N-nothing, Professor. It m-must be a l-lack of sleep,” Hermione choked out.

“I can assure you, Miss Granger, that Mr. Malfoy meant nothing against you by setting up this ball. He mentioned to me
that you thought he should take a more active role as Head Boy, so he decided to take the initiative in this case. But
now I must dash, for I have an appointment with Professor Dumbledore. Are you sure you will be all right, Miss Granger?”

“Yes Professor,” Hermione nodded. McGonagall swept out of the room, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts.

“Why am I so upset? This is stupid!” Hermione berated herself. She couldn’t figure out why she had started crying at the
mention of the ball…but she felt that it had something to do with a certain boy and the thought that he would be
surrounded by girls asking him out. And once again, she would be overlooked.

It was time she do something about that.

----------------------------------------------------

That evening, Harry was startled by a tap on his window. It was Hedwig, with a note tied to her talon. Harry unburdened
his owl, and then gave her an Owl Treat before she flew off. He had a hunch as to what this note was, and unrolled it
slowly:

Roses are red,
And violets are blue.
You don’t know who I am yet,
But I want to go to the ball with you.

“Well that’s great,” Harry thought sarcastically. “That really narrows down this secret admirer thing.” Harry dreaded
balls because he dreaded being hounded by people, and a ball usually meant that girls were looking for a date. And who
better to ask than Harry Potter himself? He hated the fact that the only girl who didn’t seem to throw herself at him
was the one person he wanted to: Hermione (even before he had realized he loved her, Harry had known that Hermione was
the girl he would most rather attend a ball with). Well, and Ginny. She didn’t throw herself at him, either.

But he was really worried about this letter…it meant that he would have some girl throwing herself at him. This letter
was obviously not from Hermione, because she didn’t like him (Yet, he told himself), so who could have possibly sent him
this? Harry had to admit that the two notes he had received were rather sweet. He liked the fact that this girl had
allowed him time to process the information of a secret admirer by himself, without hitting him in the face with it.

Not sure what he should do – should he accept? Refuse? And how exactly would he do either of those, when he didn’t even
know whom to address the letter to? Harry decided that it was high time to ask Ron for advice. Ron may not have had much
experience in the romance department, but two brains were better than one.

As though he had read Harry’s mind, Ron entered the room at that moment.

“Harry? Are you O.K.?” he asked. Harry was staring at a letter that was clutched in his hand. Three guesses as to what
kind of letter it was.

“Oh, um. Yeah. I just wanted to ask you about what I should do with this,” Harry replied, handing his friend the letter.
Ron read it over quickly.

“This is the best Hermione could do? And here I thought that she was a sensitive, intelligent witch. Obviously,
intelligence doesn’t combine with the sensitivity to make for a good love letter,” Ron snorted. “But at least it’s
better than her last one. What?” he said, turning to Harry, who was gaping at him.

“D-did you say H-her-hermione?” Harry gasped. “Hermione wrote that?”

“Of course, mate,” Ron replied cheerfully. “She loves you.” He pounded on his friend’s back to prevent him from choking.

“Wh-what did you say? She loves me?” Ron was exasperated at this point.

“Look, mate. If you keep repeating what I’m saying, this conversation is not going to get anywhere. So shut up, stuff
your eyeballs back in their sockets (I didn’t even know eyes could do that), and listen to me.” Harry did as Ron said,
and the latter nodded in a businesslike fashion.

“Now. Down to business. Apparently, Hermione went to Malfoy and asked him for advice about what she should do with her
newfound love for you. Though honestly, what witch wouldn’t fall in love with a bloke like you,” Ron added sarcastically
as Harry’s jaw dropped and eyes bulged out again at the mention of Malfoy’s name. “Yes, she did go to Malfoy. And he
helped her. He told her that you would be too thick if she just told you straight out, and suggested that she send you
love letters to soften the blow a bit. “So obviously, she’s followed your advice. I’ll have to speak to her about her
poetry skills though…but that’s beside the point. Draco – I mean, Malfoy – and I decided that a ball would be a good way
to get you guys together. Hermione doesn’t know that you know that she’s been sending you letters,” he paused to allow
Harry to process this rather confusing sentence, “So what you have to do is surprise her at the ball.”

“Surprise her? How?” Harry asked, looking confused.

“Well, if we keep it a secret that you know about her little plan, then you can tell her at the ball that you love her,
and all of that mushy stuff.”

“But why at the ball? Can’t I just do it some other time?” “No, Harry,” Ron said patiently. “This is why Malfoy set up
the ball. I mean, what better place or time could there be? You’re going to be in your oh-so-lovely dress robes, and
she’ll be dressed up, and there will be no backing out, because Malfoy and I, and the whole student body (which has, by
the way, been waiting for you to get together) will be right there. Plus, you won’t have to fend off any crazed 3rd
years that are desperate for a dance.” Harry nodded, realizing that resistance was futile. It was, after all, a pretty
good plan.

“But hang on, how can you be sure that Hermione will be there? If I’m not going to ask her, then there’s no reason for
her to go, is there?”

“You leave that to me, mate,” Ron said, winking mischievously.

A/N: I think this chapter is longer than usual…how I love Meg Cabot and The Princess Diaries. Without them, I wouldn’t
have any more ideas for this story and I’d disappoint you guys…

Love, the-greatest-author-ever-who-is-now-addicted-to-Gilmore-Girls:
Kaye.

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10. At The Ball

A/N: Hmm…well, not too many reviews on the last chapter, but we shall press on. I also got a couple of people who were a
bit disappointed at how the Hogwarts part of this is going, and I’m so sorry that it’s not as interesting! I just find
it a lot harder to write within the bounds of Hogwarts than in my own, made-up setting. But still, I hope you will enjoy
this, the last chapter. Thanks so much for your support and your reviews!

Disclaimer: I (oops) haven’t written one of these in a while, but none of the characters, nor Hogwarts, belong to me!!
And you would do well to remember that!!

“Oh Hermione,” Lavender sang. “Hoooogsmeade time!”

“What?” Hermione snapped. “What are you going on about? Why would I want to go to bloody Hogsmeade?” She was rather
irritable because of all the goings-on about the ball. Her roommates had been talking about it all week, and talking
about their dates (Parvati was going with some boy in Ravenclaw, and Lavender was going with – well, Hermione wasn’t
quite sure whom, but someone, anyway), and of course they had been talking about their dresses, as well. Hermione didn’t
have a date, and therefore didn’t have a dress.

“Language, my dear Hermione, language,” Parvati chirped, chuckling when Hermione rolled her eyes. “We have to go to
Hogsmeade to pick up our dresses, and you, little missy, are going to buy one.”

“Why do I need a dress when I’m not going? Only losers go to balls without dates.”

“Au contraire, my friend. Only cowards don’t go to the ball. Plus, you’re Head Girl. You have to go.” Lavender smirked
triumphantly. There was no way Hermione would be able to get out of this one. Oh boy, would Ron owe her (here her mind
delved into more, erm, mature scenes, so we won’t go there).

“Damnit!” Hermione swore. “You’re right. And I have no idea about a dress, or anything…”

“Calm down, Herms,” Parvati soothed (fully aware that the ‘Herms’ part would serve to annoy her roommate, not calm her).
“Lav and I took the initiative and did a bit of planning. And this is the first part of our plan. So up you get. We’re
going to Hogsmeade.”

-----------------------------------------------

“Oh my god, you guys. How have I lived with you for almost seven years and not realized what Nazis you are?” Hermione
asked, exasperated. Lavender and Parvati (and Ginny, who had been recruited to their ranks) were extremely serious
shoppers, and very tough with the clothes, muttering things like “No that makes you look fat,” and “Now you looks like
Moaning Myrtle,” at every dress she tried on. The only response she got, however, was a pair of blank looks.

“What’s a Nazi, Hermione?” Ginny inquired politely, obviously thinking that her friend had cracked. Hermione rolled her
eyes.

“Nevermind, it’s a Muggle thing. The Nazis were…” she trailed off, realizing it was hopeless. “Let’s just get this over
with.”

“OK, Hermione whatever you s –” Lavender gasped and cut off her sentence as her eye caught on something. “Oh. My. God.
It’s perfect!” She gave an excited squeal and ran over to a rack.

“Lav, what are you going on abou –” Parvati cut off her sentence as she, too, caught sight of the dress. She took it off
the rack and held it up for Hermione and Ginny to see.

Hermione’s sharp words died on her tongue when she saw the dress. Her jaw dropped as she wordlessly held her hand out
for the dress so that she could try it on.

Needless to say, it fit.

--------------------------------------------

Finally, the Saturday of the ball arrived. Most of the Gryffindor girls were in their dorms already, making final
adjustments to their gowns and doing other primping activities. Hermione, however, had a different idea. She was sitting
on the couch in front of the fireplace with Harry. Their conversation consisted mostly of dry comments about the
questionable necessity of primping, and chuckles at the various comments that occasionally floated down the stairs
(“Damnit Beth, did you take my underwear again?” and “OMG I hope Harry Potter will dance with me” were the two favorites
so far).

When Lavender’s voice rang out “Hermione! Get your arse up here! There’s only an hour until the ball!” neither was very
irked. Hermione just wanted to escape the tension, and Harry was excited for the ball – not to mention Hermione in a
dress.

“See you in a bit, Harry,” Hermione whispered, kissing him on the cheek before trooping upstairs. Harry smiled a little
at her retreating back and decided that he may as well go upstairs, as well. If nothing else, he could groom his
Firebolt again.

“Hermione!” Lavender scolded. “Where have you been? You should have come up at least an hour ago – we have to tame your
hair!”

“Relax, Lav. After the fiasco that was an entire bottle of Sleekeazy’s in 4th year, I looked up a few hair spells.”
Hermione pulled out her wand, muttered a few words under her breath, and suddenly her usually bushy hair was straight,
ending in soft waves at the middle of her back. Parvati and Lavender cast her an appreciative look before bearing down
on her, brandishing various eyeshadows and lipsticks, etc.

Finally, Hermione’s make-up was complete, and her hair, which Lavender and Parvati decided to leave down, was brushed
and anti-frizzed, it was time for Hermione to put on the dress. She carefully stepped into the ice blue, floor-length,
strapless dress and Parvati zipped it up for her. She stared at herself in the mirror, amazed at how she looked, and
thought that even if she didn’t have a date, at the very least she looked damn good. She hooked a simple silver chain
around her neck, stepped into her matching blue stilettos, and decided that she was ready.

----------------------------------------

“Ladies and Gentlemen of Hogwarts, welcome to the Snowflake Ball! The Head Girl and I would like to welcome our musical
guests, the Weird Sisters!” The Great Hall, which was now decorated with hanging icicles and had large snowflakes
falling from the enchanted ceiling, burst into cheers at Draco Malfoy’s opening words. The Weird Sisters began playing,
and Draco took a hold of Hermione’s hand and led her out into the middle of the dance floor. After a few moments, other
students began to trickle onto the floor. The two heads took this as a cue that the dance had started, and drifted off
to find their own dates. Well, Draco went to find Ginny, and Hermione went to go stand by the refreshment table.

“God,” she thought. “I’m such a loser.” There was Lavender dancing with – was that RON?! No wonder Lavender had been so
secretive about her date. But, Hermione had to admit, they did look rather good together. And there was Parvati with her
Ravenclaw bloke, and Draco and Ginny (the two had been going out for a couple of months now), and Harry and…wait, no.
Where was Harry, anyway?

“Looking for me, Hermione?” a voice breathed in her ear. Hermione jumped and turned around wildly, swatting Harry on the
arm when she realized who it was.

“Harry, you prat. You scared me!” Her only response was one of those insufferable smirks. “Where’s your date, anyway?”

“I don’t have a date, Hermione. Not yet, anyway. See, there’s this girl I like, and it turns out that she likes me too,
and she’s been sending me these love notes…” Hermione gaped.

“Wh-what are you talking about, H-h-harry?” But again, she received no spoken answer. Instead Harry bent his head and
captured his lips with hers. This, oh Merlin, was even better than the dream, Hermione thought. Just as the kiss was
becoming heated (perhaps too heated for a public place – people were beginning to stare), Hermione pulled back.

“Harry, what is this about? Is this some sort of sick, elaborate prank that you and Malfoy set up?” Hermione asked, her
eyes filling with tears. How had this happened?

“No, Hermione. Never! No, Malfoy told Ron, who told me, that you were the one who was writing the notes to me.” Hermione
turned around to glare at the two boys aforementioned, and found them staring in her direction. Of course, as soon as
they saw her death glare, both of them turned back to their dates and became deeply immersed in conversation. “And I – I
hoped that you meant them, and so I devised this whole thing with Ron, and now…I can see that you didn’t mean it or
whatever, so I-I’ll just go.” Hermione faced him again, an incredulous look gracing her made-up features.

“What are you talking about? Of course I meant what I wrote!” Harry’s face, which had looked crushed before, lit up with
a bright smile. He leaned down again to kiss her, but this time it was he who pulled away.

“So, d’you wanna dance?” he asked, taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor when she nodded.

---------------------------------------

For his part, Harry was ecstatic at how everything had turned out. When he had come into the ball and caught sight of
Hermione in that dress, he had felt all the blood in his face rush to – well, rush out of his face. He had taken a
moment to compose himself before going over to talk to her. And now, he was holding her in his arms, and her head was on
his shoulder, and he could feel her breath on his neck. He would have to remember to thank Draco someday (after his ego
had deflated a little from his success). Ron, too, if he could pull him away from Lavender.

“Hermione,” he whispered. “You know I love you, right?” She lifted her head to meet his gaze, her eyes shining.

“I love you too, Harry.”

And now, Harry thought, everything was perfect. So perfect, in fact, that it all felt like a dream.

FIN

A/N: OK, well that’s the end of that! I hope you guys enjoyed it! Thank you so much to everybody who’s read and
reviewed! It really means a lot to me! Perhaps someday I will write another story…

Oh, and if you want an idea of Hermione’s dress, go here:
http://www1.macys.com/catalog/product/index.ognc?ID=185449&CategoryID=7757.

Much MUCH love from,
Kaye
