A/N: Here's a piece of work I posted in FF.net awhile back. It's been retouched and some things were changed but its still pretty much the same tale. Special thanks to Michelle for beta-ing my fic.
It's The Little Things About Him
There he goes again with his unruly hair. It seemed that no matter what he did, his hair was just not going to stay tame for too long. For a moment she pondered giving him hair gel or mousse for his next birthday. It could be the best birthday present she could give him yet. Wisps and locks of it were out of place as he ran his fingers through it casually, she noted. Maybe a different type of haircut would just do it: a three on the side and a two for the top. But Hermione knew that Harry would sooner stupefy the barber rather than get his hair cut that short.
She stared back down on her book. She ought to be studying, not worrying about Harry Potter's hair, she told herself. Taking a deep breath she stared down at the ingredients to be used for making a sleeping potion. Dried grasshopper legs, tea leaves, quail's tail feather, she memorized. Gulver's elixir is the tonic used to rouse someone who takes the sleeping potion if they don't wake after a long period of time, she remembered.
Out of the corner her eye, she observed that Harry took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. He's getting tired, she guessed.
"Mione, how are you doing with your studying?" he asked her. He leaned back on the seat and stared at the ceiling.
"I'm coming along well, but, "she paused, " from the looks of things, you look like you're about ready to give up, Harry." She scowled at him slightly. "Surely, that's not the case is it? We start NEWTs next week."
He ran his right hand carelessly through his hair. There it goes again, that hair that refuses to be tamed.
"Potions have never been my passion or my strongest point. You know that Professor McGonagall had to pull some strings so Snape would take me in so I may pursue Auror training after Hogwarts," he informed her.
"Yeah, I know. But you know you wouldn't be half bad at it if you really tried, Harry. Half of the time though, you're busy daydreaming about something or too preoccupied with hating Snape," she said dully. He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off, "Mind you, plenty of people hate Snape, but really, Harry, you shouldn't let it affect your studies that much."
That was another thing that bothered her about him. Most of the time, he can ignore the disparaging remarks or scathing rumors that would be said behind his back. She considered that to be such an amazing feat of self-restraint. But with Snape, whenever he makes belittling or sarcastic remarks toward Harry, it greatly aggravated Harry enough that his reason or logic would abandon him. Not that she could really blame him, she supposed, but she knew Harry could do better in lessening that aggravation.
To her great relief though, Harry never really acted on his irate emotions. She knew he came close one time to jumping Snape once before after Snape made another careless remark about Harry's father. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall at the last second entered the hallway where they stood.
"I must admit, if that comment came from someone else, it would annoy me. But coming from you, Hermione, as much as I don't like to admit it, you make perfect sense," Harry admitted.
Hermione sat back and pushed her book away from her. Looking at him she said, "I think that's a compliment so I'm taking it as one. After all, you don't like admitting things like that."
"Things like what?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes on him. "For someone who's awfully fast up in the air going after the snitch, you're awfully slow at grasping everything else. Maybe you've been hit by the bludger too many times for your own good, Harry."
This time, it was Harry's turn to scowl. "Hey, that's not true!" he said a little too loudly.
"Shhhh!" Somebody five tables away from them gave them an annoyed look. Both Harry and Hermione returned the look. It was a Ravenclaw student, they both recognized.
"Come on, Harry, you can't be that dense," she said in a hushed voice. She almost forgot that they were still in the library.
He gave her a smirk. "You're right. I'm not. I just wanted to ruffle you up a bit," he jested. Hermione shot him an icy look across the table. He chuckled.
"Since when have you been so impish?" she sarcastically asked. His playfulness, she reckoned was something fairly new to his character. She recalled him to be less assertive in things outside of quidditch or Defense Against Dark Arts. Even more so was he hesitant about openly making jokes or teasing her or anyone else for that matter. Like it though, she did. It was a nice change for him because it made him more outgoing than he used to be.
"Hermione? Why are you staring at me like that?"
She coughed and blinked. Without realizing it, she had been staring at him for some time.
Harry leaned forward a bit on the table with his right eyebrow raised. "What is it? Do I have something on my face? Or did you just space out about something and just stared at me indirectly?"
Hermione's cheeks colored somewhat and she diverted her gaze back down on the book she had in front of her earlier.
"Or…is it that you find me interesting or maybe good looking?" he kidded.
He was teasing her again! Her slightly pink cheeks grew even redder, she knew. She turned her gaze back on him gave him a weird look. She then muttered with a snort, "Don't flatter yourself, Harry. You're charming, but not that charming."
"Once again, my best friend has humbled me back down to earth. Here I thought that I had the unflappable and composed Hermione Granger captivated at last." He tried his best to muffle his laughter.
His father, she thought. If it wasn't evident yet, he inherited his frolicking and antics from his father. She figured it out now as he laughed at her. Sooner or later, she now realized, that characteristic ought to come out from Harry. And come out, it did along with several other characteristics. In their seventh and final year at Hogwarts, Harry has been receiving a different kind of look from the majority of the female population at Hogwarts-looks of wanton, desire, or infatuation. He wasn't so selfish about it either to her dismay. He returned their smiles, flirted back every now and then, and gave some of them false hope. She wondered at how aware he was of his stature, not as the Boy-Who-Lived, but as Harry-the-heartbreaker.
"Please Harry," Hermione laughed, "the day that you turn your romantic wiles on to me would be the day that Dumbledore trades Fawkes for an owl."
Harry shut his book closed and put on a seemingly hurt appearance. In a mocking voice he said, "Hey I'm not that bad, am I?" He gave her a big smile, which made her suspicious. "Speaking of which, I just heard that Professor Dumbledore is shopping for owls. So what say you now?" He was grinning now devilishly.
"Harry!" she remarked a little too loudly. She knew that she was blushing again. "Enough already." Madam Pince peered out of an immense bookshelf to quickly spy on them but was soon off again. "We're dallying about a bit too much. We need to get back to studying."
He sulked in response and directed his interest once again to his Potions book. "Yes, ma'am. Back to the boring book and boring studying session I am."
Indeed, Harry was teasing her more than usual today. Out of character it may be, but Hermione didn't mind because it was her best friend. Only her best friend, she reminded herself even though her heartbeat rate seemed to have upped a few notches since he joked about having a romantic interest in her. She quickly got up from her seat.
"Where are you going?" he looked up and inquired. He seemed to be back to his nonchalant mood again, which annoyed her a bit.
"I…I need to look for a book," she managed to say as her eyes met his. Those emerald eyes of his suddenly entranced her. Someone should chastise him for having such immensely green orbs. Nobody should be allowed to have natural eyes like that. They were too bewitching and enough witches could drown in his gaze if they stared long enough, she believed. Hermione snapped out of distraction and quickly turned around without another word, leaving him with a perplexed look on his face.
The curly brown-haired Head Girl took about twenty paces away from the table she shared with the unruly-haired young man and suddenly veered right behind a tall bookshelf. She wasn't really looking for a book. She just wanted to get away from him, away from what was causing her heart to stir. She scolded herself for allowing herself to be disturbed by possible romantic feelings for Harry. Leaning against the side of the bookshelf, she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to gather her thoughts and recover.
Seconds turned to minutes without her realizing it. Then it hit her.
She liked him. She really, really liked him-not in the best friend kind of way, but in the potential boyfriend kind of way.
Wait.
No.
It was more than a fancy liking that she felt for Harry. She liked Victor Krum. She liked Ronald Weasley. But what she felt for Harry was different altogether. A groan escaped her lips as she lightly thumped her head against the bookshelf. Questions of how, when, and why suddenly flooded her mind. It was quite overwhelming. Hermione Granger had done it. She had become one of the girls who were constantly fawning over him, pining for him.
She's in love with him.
She's in love with every bit of him. She's even in love with his unruly hair!
More minutes passed. Endless questions overcame her on top of her emotions. In the first year, he awed her because he was The Boy-Who-Lived. The second year, he saved her from being in a petrified state (actually it was Madame Pomfrey who restored her, she corrected herself, but Harry killed the basilisk so Muggles were once again safe at Hogwarts). Clearly then, Muggle or magical, he considered her a best friend, someone really important to him. Third year, she felt that he needed her help more than anyone else in helping his godfather escape. In their fourth year to her embarrassment, Rita Seeker labeled her as his good for nothing Muggle girlfriend. It didn't unsettle her much and neither was he because both weren't true-her being a good for nothing Muggle and her being his girlfriend. Well, she also somewhat developed some feelings for Ron, which Harry didn't seem to mind (well more like he probably didn't' notice). He was too enthralled with Cho Chang, if she recalled correctly, and with being a Tri-Wizard Champion. Then there was Victor Krum who was just a passing liking for her. Fifth year, he lost Sirius but he still maintained his sanity and resolve. He lived on as their friend and the (unofficial) champion against the Dark Forces. He never gave up. In their sixth year, he came so close to losing somebody else close to him (well, her again). But once more, against all odds, he survived. And this year-
A voice interrupted her thoughts. "You know, if you needed help in finding a book, you could have told me. I would have gladly helped, Hermione."
Opening her eyes, she yelped slightly and started back as he was standing directly in front of her. Harry had bent down a little so that his face was level with hers. "Though I find it rather odd that you'd need something Potions related in the Teen Relationships section." He straightened and looked around.
"The what?" Hermione's gaze swept quickly over her surroundings and her eyes widened. She just realized what section of the library she ended up in. Hermione, if she could, would very much like to just bury herself in some unknown hole right now. It was embarrassing enough that she, Hermione Granger, would be found at this section but it was even more so humiliating that it was Harry who found her here. "I…must have taken the wrong turn."
"No kidding." Harry turned his back on her and picked up a book. "Ten Ways To Get The Wizard of Your Dreams. Nice title." He chuckled and quickly ruffled through the pages of the book before replacing it. Harry grabbed another book from a higher shelf and his eyes widened immensely. "Dating Tips For the Young Wizard. Now this could be useful. Hey do you think I could borrow this book without drawing much attention to myself?" He turned around again and faced Hermione, holding up the book.
Hermione snorted. "Really Harry, I don't think you need a book to help in that department." She felt a tiny pang at her heart. 'What about me?' she asked silently. She groaned again. How can she feel like this already when she just discovered how she really felt about him?
"You're probably right. Besides, I'm quite sure it won't help me get the girl that I want," he said, placing the book back on the shelf.
"You? Need help on getting a girl? Who is she?" she asked him too quickly.
Harry flashed a goofy smile at her. "Now wouldn't you like to know?"
"Fine. You're right. I don't think I want to know," she rebuked. 'I do want to know. I do want to know. I do want to know!' silently she chanted.
As if he detected her silent plea he said, "Tell you what. Let's finish studying and maybe I'll tell you who it is at the end of the night before we tuck in. Deal?"
"Ah sure, Harry. It's not like I'm dying to know. For all I know it could be Ginny, or someone else in Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw perhaps, or heaven forbid, a Slytherin witch…," Hermione mused. She knew she was rambling but she couldn't stop herself.
Harry just laughed again and shook his head. Hermione gritted her teeth slightly. He was tormenting her! But his laugh was so nice to hear regardless. He started making his way back to their table without sparing her another glance.
'Curiosity killed the cat, I know,' Hermione said quietly as she gathered herself. 'But I just know that I won't be content until I know who it is,' she sighed.
Hermione started to follow after him. She took a quick peek at a grandfather clock in the library before taking her seat. Only two hours left before the library closed. For Hermione Granger, it would be the longest two hours of her life yet.
Tic.
Toc.