Disclaimer: I repeat, I don't own the story line or the characters. They belong to Nick Sparks and JK Rowling.
A/N: Wow, if you're reading this far along, thanks a million! Please keep in mind in this chapter that Hermione was a muggle before she came to Hogwarts so she does keep her faith. Besides that, there's a lil more language in this chapter, please beware. Ok, besides that, here we go.
A Year to Remember
Chapter Three
"Dude! You look so wasted! What gives? Whatever's on your mind? Lay it on me. You know I'm always ready with a remedy."
"Yeah, good Friendship, yeah. I'm in great jeopardy!"
"Dude, dude, dude-whoa-sit yourself down. Trust me to put an end to whatever's got you so wound."
"That's good to hear, Friendship. Truly."
"Everydude, I need to know your heaviness. It brings me down to see you all distressed. If any jerk has wronged you, revenged you will be. He who messes with u, messes with me. And what kind of rhyming shit was that?"
"C'mon Ron, I need to practice my lines with someone."
"I know mate, I know," Ron said, sighing and taking a seat on the red velvet coach in front of the blazing fire.
Harry sat beside him, sighing as well. It had been two weeks since he had been cast as the leading role in the upcoming school production and he still was naturally bad at it.
"Why don't you get that Hermione Granger girl to help you?" Ron asked, throwing the script aside. "She's your leading lady ain't she? Don't you two have some kissing scene to practice or something?"
"Not funny Ron," Harry scolded, rolling his eyes, "God, this whole punishment is pointless! I'm gonna destroy the production, let alone my reputation."
"Harry, I'm just playing," Ron said solemnly, putting a steady hand on his best friend's shoulder. "I'm going to be there, opening night, in the front row, and you can count on it."
"Thanks man."
"With a box of fresh, juicy tomatoes."
Harry admitted that his friend's joke was pretty funny. The two laughed and talked as if nothing had destroyed Harry's life only a few weeks before. And the two scripts lain aside, deserted for the rest of the evening.
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"Hey! Hey Hermione! Wait up!"
Hermione Granger stopped and turned around to see Harry Potter running towards her. He stopped in front of her, completely out of breath. Hermione watched him for a few moments, not exactly sure what to say.
"Are you alright Harry?" she asked, smiling gently up at him.
"Yeah," gasp "I'm fine," heavy intake of breath, "Just great."
"Are you sure? We aren't far from the infirmary."
"Hermione, I'm fine, really," Harry said, his breathing slowly returning to its normal pace.
"Alright then," she replied. She paused a moment, watching Harry catch his breath. Finally she sighed and looked at him strangely. "What do you want Harry? I've known you seven years and you've never been one to come up and say hello."
"Umm, yeah, I know," Harry muttered.
"Well what is it?"
Harry looked up into her chocolate brown eyes and was lost for words. The color might have been plain but they were so deep and thoughtful. Something his eyes never seemed to be.
"Did you know, that it's a really long run from Care of Magical Creatures all the way up here to the Library?"
Hermione let out a hearty laugh and shook her head.
"I take it that's not exactly what you planned to tell me," she smiled slightly.
Harry took a deep breath. He couldn't believe he ran almost a mile to catch up to her. He mentally cursed Hogwarts for being so large.
"I, uhh," he muttered, "I need help with my lines."
"Harry Potter's asking me for help?"
"Yeah, is that such a surprise?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows at him and was silent for a moment.
"Fine then, I'll pray for you." And with that she turned around and walked towards the library.
Harry stood a little dumbstruck for a moment. The biggest nerd in school just dissed the most wanted and popular guy at school. Something was wrong with that.
"Hey," Harry said, jogging to reach her, "I don't think your muggle God can help me out much here. I need your help."
Hermione stopped and stared at him. Partly in anger for referring to God in such a way and partly is shock that the Harry Potter was asking her for help.
"He's not just a muggle God, you know?" she whispered, turning around again.
Harry walked backwards so that he could face her while he talked.
"Please Hermione," he pleaded, "I suck, and Ernie Macmillan deserves the best. I can't ruin this whole play. It wouldn't be fair to Ernie, or to Professor Sinistra, or to you. Please."
Hermione stopped walking and stared up at him. His eyes were desperate and serious. She sighed, letting him win.
"On one condition Potter."
"And what's that?"
"You have to promise that you won't fall in love with me."
Harry's jaw dropped. He had to admit that by the smile twisting on Hermione's lips, she had a pretty good sense of humor. He flashed her his pearly whites.
"That won't be a problem."
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"Here I lie, cold in the ground. Thy sins hath me sore bound. That I cannot stir."
"Oh, Good Deeds, I was beyond all hope. I've been looking for you, wanting you, needing you so desperately."
"Harry, you have to say it with more feeling than that."
"Hermione, I've said it a million times. The feeling is numb. Can't we take a break?"
"Oh, I suppose," she sighed, taking a seat on the bench in the Astronomy Tower.
"So," Harry said, sitting beside her, "how am I doing?"
"You're not as bad as you think," she said simply, taking a sip from the goblet she conjured up for herself.
"Thanks."
The two had been working together in secret for a little over a week. Well, Hermione didn't necessarily know that it was a secret, but Harry knew that he couldn't let his friends know. Hermione wasn't the kind of person who would fit into the gang. She was a bookworm, a goody two shoes, and practically a saint. The gang hated reading, were always in trouble, and had more faults put together than one could imagine.
"You know, I think we'll call it a night," Hermione said, standing and putting her script into her book bag. She looked up at Harry, who was just watching her. She turned away abruptly and even in the dim lighting, Harry could tell she was blushing.
"I think I'll stay here for awhile," he answered, "I'll be back in the common room later."
"Alright then," she smiled slightly, "Good night."
"'Night," he whispered, as she slipped out of the tower, leaving Harry alone. He sighed and stood up, walking to the wall and leaning over it. He scanned the grounds. It was so calm and peaceful, something he never took the time to notice. He had been doing a lot of thinking in the past week. After surrendering to Hermione and begging her to help him, he realized that she really wasn't the nerd everyone thought she was. She had as large a sense of humor as Ron did, though she wasn't as foul. She was clever and witty, and often kept Harry on his toes.
"She's perfect," he muttered, staring out into space. He suddenly realized that he was talking about Hermione Granger and his head shot back, as if waking up from a bad dream. She was just another girl. Just a girl who he happened to think of as a good person; someone he might like to be.
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"So, so I said to her, 'If it keeps the funk alive, bitch.'"
Harry spewed his butterbeer all over the place as he and the rest of the gang laughed at Draco's comment. It was a Saturday and they were in their usual corner of The Three Broomsticks, talking about nothing important. On Friday afternoon, Draco had made some not so nice outbursts in Transfiguration and was asked to stay after class.
"God, you're so lucky she didn't hex your ass right there," Ron laughed, trying hard not to fall out of his chair.
"What can I say," Draco sighed, taking a swig of his drink, "I'm the prince of fucking darkness baby!"
Harry laughed heartily along with his friends. He hadn't been able to talk to them for a while since rehearsal was always getting in the way. It was now his chance to unwind and not worry about anything at all.
"Drake," Harry said seriously, "you may be the prince, but I am the king."
"Well fuck then, let's all hail King Harry," Seamus snorted into his empty bottle. The gang laughed and continued to talk and joke around for a while, every now and then referring to Harry as the king. It wasn't for another hour that they were interrupted.
"Hey Harry."
Harry turned around and the grin on his face fell. It was Hermione. Even though his back was turned, he could tell that his friends were staring at the two of them with their eyebrows raised.
"Uhh, hi Hermione," Harry muttered, wishing that he could just die on the spot.
"I wasn't really paying attention last night," Hermione said quickly, "so I was just making sure if we were going to practice tonight, in the tower?"
That had done it. The secret was out. Harry had no idea what to do. He could hear Ron trying to cover up a snicker and wished to pound him. If he agreed with Hermione, his friends would desert him. But he couldn't just hurt Hermione. She hadn't done anything wrong. Harry quickly wagered the pros and cons and cracked into a grin.
"In your dreams, freak," he said firmly.
The gang started to laugh and make comments about Hermione. Harry kept eye contact with her and he could tell that he had made a mistake. Her eyes turned to little slits and she stared him down. He had no idea what she was going to do. Slap him? No, she was too gentle. Yell at him? No, she didn't usually raise her voice. Publicly humiliate him? That was his best guess.
Yet Hermione did neither. She simply stared at him, until Harry could see her eyes begin to glisten with what looked like tears, and then she left. Harry shook his head, feeling partly ashamed of himself, though he would never admit it to his friends. He turned back around to the table, ready to face what his friends were going to throw at him.
"What was that about?" Draco asked, looking dead serious.
"She's smoking something, man," Harry lied, "I don't know what she's talking about. Rehearsals are in the theater, not some tower thing."
Draco gave him an appraised look. He then shrugged.
"You're right," he agreed, "it's always the silent ones ya gotta look out for, I tell ya."
The gang laughed again and started to talk about how 'wacked' some of the teachers are. Harry joined in the conversation but guiltily. He couldn't stop thinking about Hermione and that seemed to be happening a lot lately.