Tune Me Out

A/N: The book being proofread by Hermione is in italic. This story hasn't been beta read yet. So ,I apologize if any mistakes were done.

Disclaimer : Everything and everyone except for Sam and Sarah are owned by J.K Rowling. I just play with their minds. The line “American Stick Insect” is from Bridget Jones.

Prologue

`The only thing I could say is that I know him well. How his hair gleams whenever the sun hits it. The way his laugh lines show when his gleeful laughter erupts. How his lips curve slightly trying to feign a smile when he's apprehensive about being upset. Yes,

reader, I do know him well. Funny though, I'm only his friend.

The only thing I ever wanted was to be a part of a play called `someone's life'. Not a plural part but an important one. I wanted to be significant. I wanted to be loved. And that someone I had to pick was him.'

Hermione Granger sighed as she placed her quill horizontally across a piece of parchment. Why did she even pick this job? Everyday it's about romance . Every single living moment is about romance.

Don't take it the wrong way, Hermione loved her job at Brickwall as Editor for the Romance genre. But sometimes all this romance interferes with her own love life or lack there of. Everything was built around her career. Everything was arranged and restructured to suit her career . Not herself.

Being editor wasn't easy, she had to find at least one best seller amongst a hundred flops. Hermione sighed again. At the moment she was proofreading some random romance book called `A Dark Shade Of Green'. Must be about some girl whining about how her supposed `love of her life' is marrying someone else. How cliché.

Suddenly, her secretary , Sarah bobbed her head into Hermione's office.

“Yes?” Hermione asked politely.

“Mr.Potter is on line one , Ms.Granger. Should I put him through?” Sarah questioned with a thick Scottish accent.

Hermione groaned.

“Tell him I'm busy”

“Whatever fits your boat” Sarah grumbled while rolling her eyes.

Hermione stared at the piece of parchment once a again but her mind was somewhere else. What could have Harry wanted? Was it important? She thought to herself.

“Maybe I'll just give him a quick ring,” she said to herself.

Her fingers pressed the dials quickly . She traced the shape of the light brown parchment while her leg shook rigidly against the hard floor. Harry's deep voice boomed from the speaker box.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Harry. You called?” Hermione asked while rocking in her leather chair.

“Yeah, I thought you were busy.”

“I'm never too busy for you,” she said with a grin.

He laughed.

“I'm throwing a bash this Wednesday and you are coming.”

“Wow, Mr. Potter. Ever the dominant one?”

“Beyond your wildest dreams, Ms.Granger.”

“Harry…I'm not really sure if I can come,” her tone suddenly turning serious.

“Hermi… I know you can. Don't try to weasel your way out of this, Ron already tried.”

“We can't help it if Alice is an annoying little …snappy…fish” she stuttered “And who has those kind of legs? Who?!”

“Come on , Hermi,” he sighed “Just for one night, please”

“No” she stated firmly.

“Please, please, please…” he whined.

“You are so …ugh!”

“And that's why you love me,” he smirked.

“Yeah, whatever. Bye Potter,” she hung up before he could retort.

Alice. Hermione hated that girl. She was almost perfect. Almost. Those deep blue eyes, that strawberry blonde hair and those legs, those long sultry legs. To top it all off, she was a bloody size 5! Unlike Hermione , whom had boring chocolate brown eyes , frizzy hair and stumpy legs. Hermione was 20 pounds overweight and was a size 14. No wonder Harry fell for the latter.

Hermione placed her forehead against her office window. She was perturbed to say the least. What was she going to wear? What was she going to say? Who was she going to bring?

*

Hermione slipped out of her beige suede jacket , tossing it on a gray couch carelessly along with her briefcase . She tossed her hair over her shoulder while calling out “Sam” over and over again.

She headed towards the kitchen , grabbed a carton of milk and drank it. Wiping away the milk that had dripped down her chin with her sleeve, she read an edition of The Daily Prophet that was lying on the table top. It was some random article about Harry again.

“If I was editor of this newspaper, I swear…” she exclaimed .

“You'd do what?” Sam asked.

Sam was tall, lanky and had very boyish features. Being raised in a family without a father or brothers, he was overly in touch with his feminine side. He had a vibrant sense of style and unbelievably smooth skin. Yet, he did maintain his masculinity to some extend.

“You'd write about how perfect he is everyday? Or how full his lips are? Or how his cheeks light up whenever you call his name? Don't think I don't notice… you ogle at everything that has a dick except for Sam” he said while leaning on the counter.

“I've seen it. Not much to ogle at though,” she laughed.

“Don't start with me, Granger,” he teased.

Hermione took a seat on one of the stools , Sam followed. She tucked her frizzy hair behind her ear. She tugged on her collar and scratched her neck while Sam eyed her suspiciously.

“You're being all self-conscious. What's wrong?” Sam suddenly asked.

“Harry's throwing a bash this Wednesday! What the hell am I going to wear? I'm bloody fat. My formal robes wont fit anymore. Who am I going to bring? Who the hell would want to date me? And what am I going to say to that …that…American stick insect”

“Alice?”

“Damn right,” she said while burying her head in her hands.

“Hermione…” Sam lingered.

“No, I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear you tell me that I'm in love with Harry again because I am definitely not” She stated persuasively while walking towards her room, grabbing the briefcase she left on the couch.

“Hermione?” Sam called out.

Hermione turned on her heels and faced Sam. He smiled reassuringly before heading over to Hermione. He grabbed her by the shoulders and leaned towards her face.

“You are,” he said in a barely audible whisper.

Shaking her shoulders free, Hermione let out a high pitched scream before slamming her door in Sam's face. How dare he say that to her? How can he be so far from the truth? She wasn't in love with him. She never was.

Hermione nestled herself in her bed , reaching over to her briefcase , she grabbed the manuscript she was proofreading earlier in the day.

` He invited me to a party. How dare he? He knew I wouldn't want to go. All he ever wanted was to watch me suffer while he laughs out loud at my pitiful life. But then, why do I call him my best friend?'

Hermione smirked. This was vaguely familiar.

` He grabbed me by my waist and whispered into my ear. He knew I couldn't resist the sweet aroma of his body. That bastard.

“You're coming today , right?” he whispered.

“Maybe…maybe not,” I flirted.

“You are such a tease,” he smiled.

“Whereas you my sweet man, you're different, you get straight to the point. We'd make a great couple you know,” I laughed, trying to shake the idea out of my head.

He stared at me for a moment before he joined me in laughter.'