25 Things A Perfect Guy Would Do

SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1

First of all, let me tell you how much posting on Portkey terrifies me. I surely wouldn’t have done it if not for my wonderful... and I mean wonderful, beta Athena (dreamin_athena) , who is a grammar goddess... *bows down to Athena*... thank you!

Anywho.... Let me tell you the amusing story of how this fic got started. I’m sure at one point or another or your lifetime you received the most annoying thing possible to receive through email... yes a forward. I can’t tell you how much I despise them, and I normally delete them. One day one of my friends wrote in the subject line this: 25 Things A Perfect Guy Would Do (Don’t Delete This Haley!!!!! It’s cute!) I decided to humor this person, and read the forward. It was a list of 25 things a perfect guy would do (hence the subject line), and was in fact very cute. I don’t know why, but I saved it.

1 year later, I was cleaning out some of my old computer files, and I came across it once again.... the plot bunny began to form. So, I started writing this thing, and it turned out to be pretty long... 3 chapters in fact. First I posted it over at the Ficlets/Cookies form as I was writing it, but a few people wanted me to post it here...

This long rambling of mine is the reason why I am braving the Porkey reviews.. (I know how tough you can be) and posting this here.

The point? Be nice in your reviews, if you review at all.... ;-) .....Enjoy.

It started with the article, not just an article, but the article; there is a definite difference. Any other article in a magazine might be giggled at, seriously pondered, or even cried over, but the article changed her life drastically. And it was all Lavender’s and Parvati’s fault.

What unmerciful force allowed them to get a hold of a Strawberry Shake magazine?

It would have been fine if Strawberry Shake was a wizards magazine, but was it? No, of course not, it had to be a muggle magazine. This wouldn’t have been a problem if they had been muggle-born, or half-muggle, or even if anyone in their dorm aside from her had some muggle blood in them, but she was the only one who knew what telephones, lockers, or remote controls were.

Curse it all.

It was because of these facts that Hermione, whether she liked it or not, was given the official title of Head Interpreter of Muggle Speech, and was chosen to tell Lavender and Parvati what muggles were talking about when they said, ‘the perfect date for you and your guy is at a movie theater watching a chick-flick.’

This was why on one gloomy Sunday evening, when Lavender and Parvati came running through the portrait hole, squealing and holding the latest Strawberry Shake magazine, Hermione groaned. Ron was courteous enough to stifle his snicker, but only after Harry kicked him in the shins. Harry gave her a sympathetic smile, and leaned over to whisper, “They can smell fear you know; there’s no use running.”

A small smile graced her lips, but immediately disappeared when a loud shriek of “HERMY!” was heard over the chatter of the Gryffindors. She cringed, and this time Ron didn’t bother to hide his laughter. Harry found her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

She almost laughed at the absurdity of this. You would think she was going to face Voldemort. How could she even think to compare the two?

This was much worse.

“Hermy!” Lavender said again, this time much to close to her, “Look! We got the new Strawberry Shake!”

“Yippee...” Her voice sounded so dull that even Lavender or Parvati had no choice to get the hint.

“What’s wrong Hermy?” Parvati asked, “Have a lot of homework?”

Apparently they did

.

Hermione refrained from rolling her eyes, “Yes, tons.”

“Oh,” Lavender’s voice was tinged with disappointment, “Then I guess you can only read one article for us.”

“Darn.”

Parvati frowned, “Don’t worry Hermy it’s a short article. You can read the rest for us later.”

Hermione sighed, “Okay then. Which article do you want me to read?”

“The head liner I suppose, “Lavender looked to Parvati for support, she nodded. “That’s the one we’re really interested in anyway.” She handed Hermione the magazine.

Hermione sighed again, and took the revoltingly pink bundle of papers. Bright red bold letters read, “The Strawberry Shake” and underneath, in smaller letters were articles in that issue.

“Which article?”

“This one.” Parvati pointed to the largest print on the page aside from the title of the magazine.

“25 Things a Perfect Guy Would Do.” She read aloud.

A snort came from Ron, and as she glanced over and glared at him; she noticed the small smile on Harry’s face. She was about glare at him too, but he winked at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“It’s page 34.” Typical, they had the page memorized.

“Okay.” She flipped to the page and began to read. “25 Things a Perfect Guy Would Do.” Lavender actually let out a tiny squeal. Pathetic. “Number 1: Know how to make you smile when you feel down.”

Harry gave her a sympathetic smile, and leaned over to whisper, “They can smell fear you know; there’s no use running.”

A small smile graced her lips.

“I’m assuming you understand that part. Number 2: Try to secretly smell your hair, but you always notice.”

“What shampoo do you use?”

“What?”

He shrugged, “It just smells good that’s all.

Why did she have to read this? There were barely any muggle terms in here!

“Number 3: Stick up for you, but still respect your independence.”

“What’s the matter mudblood? Going to cry?” Malfoy started laughing, but immediately halted when Harry’s fist came in contact with his jaw.

He staggered backward, clutching his offended jaw, “Always standing up for your mudblood girlfriend, aren’t you Potter?”

“Don’t call her that!” Harry growled, and started forward again. This time however, Hermione stopped him.

She whipped out her wand, “First off Malfoy, I’m not Harry’s girlfriend! Second off, I suggest you stop calling me a mudblood!”

“What are you going to do mudblood? I’m a prefect, you can’t do anything to me.”

With a wave of her wand, Malfoy’s mouth was gone.

“Number 4: Give you the remote control during the game.” Finally, a muggle term.

“What’s a remote control?”

Hadn’t she explained this before? “It’s something that switches the show on a television. You remember what a television is right?”

They nodded.

“What kind of game are they talking about?”

“A sports game; like football or rugby.”

They looked confused, but then again, what was new?

“Well, if there was a television in the wizarding world, Quidditch would be on it. So it would be like your ‘guy’ giving you the remote and letting you change the game to whatever you wanted, even if he really wanted to watch the Quidditch game.”

Lavender snorted, “No guy would ever do that.”

“We might!” Ron interrupted.

Parvati rolled her eyes, “Not true.”

“Well, we might if we liked the girl enough!” Harry entered the conversation.

Parvati and Lavender smirked, “Oh we know you would Harry.” Lavender batted her eyelashes at him.

Hermione scowled, “Number 5: Come up and put his arms around you.”

Lavender and Parvati happily sighed in unison.

“You study too much. We’re going outside.”

“No, you can go outside, but I’m not.”

“Yes you are.” Wrapping his arms around her stomach he lifted her out of her seat.

“Harry!”

He grinned, “I’ll carry you if I have to.”

“Number 6: Play with your hair.”

He played with one of her curly strands of hair, while she read.

“What happened to your hair?”

She blushed, “Just product I use sometimes.”

Number 7: His hand always finds yours.”

Harry found her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Number 8: Be cute when he wants something.”

“Are you going to report me?” Harry asked her, grinning.

“Number 9: Offer you plenty of massages.” She looked at Lavender and Parvati, “There’s almost no muggle terms in here.”

“You look tense,” he said, “You should take a break.”

“I have too much work Harry!”

He rubbed her shoulder momentarily, “Okay, whatever you say.”

“There’s some later on!”

She shook her head, “ Number 10: Dance with you even if he feels like a dork.”

“We’re the only single people here!”

Hermione laughed, “I think Neville came alone too.”

“But he’s dancing, look!”

Sure enough Neville was swaying clumsily with Hannah Abott.

She laughed again, “I though you didn’t like dancing.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why are you complaining?”

“Because you like to dance.”

“So?”

“So we shall dance!” He pulled her out of her seat.

“You’re not serious.”

“I am quite serious Miss Granger! Let us take the perilous journey to the dance floor.”

She laughed.

“Number 11: Never run out of love.”

“We’ve been friends how long?”

“6 years.”

“No need to stop now!”

“But what about...”

“Forget about Ron for a second! I’ve never had as good as friend as you, and I’m not going to let that go just like that.”

“Number 12: Will be funny, but knows when to be serious.”

“Sometimes Hermione, you just need to go along with things, trust your instincts.”

“Since when did you become so wise?” She sniffled.

“It shines through occasionally.”

She smiled.

“Number 13: Realize he’s being funny when he needs to be serious.”

“What’d you do? Walk through a blizzard?” He grinned.

She burst into tears, and his grin disappeared.

He wrapped his arms around her, and his voice softened, “Hey, I’m sorry. Want to tell me what happened?”

“Number 14: Be patient when it takes you forever to get ready.

She rushed down the stairs, “Sorry Harry! You could have left with Ron.”

“Nah. I don’t mind waiting.”

She smiled, “Thanks.”

“Number 15: React so cutely when you hit him but it doesn’t really hurt.

“You prat!” She giggled and slapped him lightly on the arm.

“Argh!” He clutched his arm in exaggerated agony and fell to the floor.

She laughed.

“Number 16: Smile a lot.” She couldn’t begin to name all the examples for this one.

“Number 17: Plans a romantic date full of cheesy things he wouldn't normally like to do, just because he knows it means a lot to you.”

“Why is that so perfect?” Ron broke in, “ That’s dumb!”

“No, it’s very romantic Ronald!” Ginny broke in.

Where did she come from?

“It sounds stupid to me.”

“Well obviously you aren’t a perfect guy! No wonder you can’t get a girlfriend!”

Ron flushed.

“Number 18: Appreciate you.”

“Hermione?”

She looked up from her Potions book, “Yes?”

He sat down next to her. “I....er... well.... er... thanks.”

She gave him a puzzled look, “Whatever for?”

“Everything!” He blurted out.

“Harry, what....?”

“Thanks going as far as you could with me to stop Voldemort from getting the Philosopher’s Stone in our 1^st year. Thanks for finding out about the Basilisk in our 2^nd year. Thanks for helping me free Sirius in our 3^rd year. Thanks for believing me and helping me learn the ‘accio’ charm in our 4^th year. Thanks for risking everything and going with me to Umbridge’s office and into the Department of Mysteries. Thanks for being the best friend I could ever ask for all these years. I would be dead a million times by now if you hadn’t stuck by me as you have.” He gave a small smile, “Thank you.”

“Number 19: Help others out.”

“You don’t always need to be the hero Harry.” She sobbed.

He squeezed her hand, “I need to help Neville, he needs me. I’ll be careful.”

“Number 20: Drive 5 hours to see you for 1.” That was only the 2^nd muggle term she had come across, she realized vaguely.

“Muggles use ‘cars’ to get around. They call this ‘driving.’”

There was a knock at her door. “Hold on mum. I’ll get it!”

“It’s Christmas! Who could that be?” Her mum called back.

“I’m about to find out.”

She opened the door, “Hello Hermione,”

“Harry?” It was Harry alright, his hair had flecks of snow in them, and his glasses were fogged up. “What are you doing here? How did you get here? I... what...er...?”

He chuckled, “It’s Christmas Hermione! You said you hated having muggle Christmas!”

“But, how...?”

“Tonks and Lupin brought me.” Looking behind Harry she saw Tonks- whose hair was spiked in red and green colors- engaged in a fierce snowball fight with Lupin.

Shaking out of her surprise, she threw her arms around him, “Thank you so much!”

He blushed, “Well, you know how I hate being alone at Hogwarts on Christmas! So you going to let us in? It’s cold out here!”

Lavender and Parvati nodded.

“Number 21: Always gives you a peck on the cheek when you depart from each others company, even when his friends are watching.”

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“I can’t believe we’ll be 7^th years next term!” She frowned, “I’m going to miss you this summer.”

“I’m going to miss you too...tons...Er....” Harry’s checks turned crimson as he gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “See you next year Hermione.”

There were catcalls from Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan who were passing..

Harry only blushed further.

“Number 22: Sing even if he can’t.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Seamus asked.

“Yeah!” Dean agreed, “How’s that romantic?”

“Now let’s all join in the Hogwarts School Song!”

There were cheers around the Great Hall.

“I’ll pass thanks.” Harry mumbled.

“Harry! This is our last year at Hogwarts! Don’t you think you should join in?”

He blushed, “But I can’t sing!”

“Well neither can I, but that isn’t stopping me!

“Fine! If you sing I will.”

She grinned, “Good! Ready?”

“It’s the thought that they would sing if you asked them.” Parvati said sounding irritated that she needed to explain this, “More boys need to read this article here at Hogwarts. They’re all so clueless.”

“Hey! I resent that!” Ron said.

“It’s especially true about you Ronald Wealsey!”

class=Section3>

“Hey! That’s low!”

“Number 23: Know what you’re thinking even when you don’t say it.”

“You have to be kidding me.” Ron said, sounding quite annoyed.

He seemed to be thinking along the same lines as she was.

“You mean...”

“No way...”

“What? What’re you guys talking about?” Ron cut in to their thought process.

“But how could he have...”

“Gotten in?”

“Must have....”

“Used that passage....”

“We found earlier...”

“This is the must ridiculous article I’ve ever read!”

“You’re not really reading it Ron, and besides, the only articles you read are Quidditch articles!”

“That’s all that’s worth reading!”

“Number 24: Stare at you.”

“That’s kinda stalker-ish.” Ron imputed.

“It’s sweet.” Lavender replied, scowling at him..

“Do I have ink on my face or something?”

class=Section4>

“Huh?”

“You’re staring.”

He looked away, “Sorry... just thinking.”

“How is it sweet?”

“It just is! It means he likes looking at you.”

Ron shook his head.

“And finally number 25: Be a good friend.”

Now it was just creepy.

Lavender and Parvati sighed together once again.

“That’s so romantic.” Parvati said dreamily.

“And so unrealistic!” Ron seemed to be quite intimidated by the article.

“Yeah, no boy at Hogwarts is like that!” Seamus said fearfully.

“Not one.” Dean agreed.

“Sure there is.” Lavender grinned wickedly, “Just ask Hermione.”

Hermione, who had been looking over the article once again, snapped her head up at the mention of her name.

“But Hermione doesn’t even have a boyfriend.” Harry’s voice surprised her.

“Not yet.” Now Parvati was grinning wickedly too, at Harry.

Oh no. They were not implying what she thought they were implying. There was no way

class=Section5>

they could know what she was thinking. Was there?

“You two are completely bonkers.” Ron was looking between Lavender and Parvati a mixed expression on his face.

“You can see it too Ron. Can’t you?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Lavender.”

“Yes you do.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yes huh.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Well then you’re just as blind as those two.” She pointed at Hermione and Harry.

“Er... could you not talk about Hermione and me as if we weren’t here?”

They ignored him.

“You’re bonkers.” Ron repeated.

“You’re jealous.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, and placed the magazine on the table. She looked over at Harry and nodded to the portrait hole. He nodded back.

“No I’m not!”

“Yes you are!!”

The fight between Lavender and Ron continued, and with no one noticing, Harry and Hermione slipped quietly through the portrait hole, without a word to one another.

Good, bad, terrible? Hopefully not the last two... I really do hope you liked it... next chapter out.... in a while... no rush right?

Cheers,

Haley

SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1

I can’t tell you how much I LOVED all of your reviews! They really made my day.... no joke. I was asked a few questions, 1^st of, last time I checked, The Strawberry Shake is a netzine... or was at one point... I don’t read those magazines either. Also, toarchforge, trust me, no guy is this good, and must guys to hog the remote!

I’m so glad the flashbacks weren’t awkward! Also, I got many comments on how unusual this plot is.... thanks a bunch... I’m taking it as a compliment... Look how fast I got this chapter out! It’s all thanks to my beta, she’s fast and a grammar wiz. I do believe I forgot the disclaimer... oops....

Disclaimer: I own nothing... not even Strawberry Shake! It all belongs to the people who are making money for it... and I am not making any.

20 Things He Did That Were Perfect.

The night was still, the corridor silent. They walked alongside one another, neither saying a word, for no words were needed. Both seemed determined not to mention the implications Lavender and Parvati had placed in both of their minds. They turned left, right, went straight, and just walked, all while in silence. It was only after they passed a picture of a sleeping woman, slightly plump with dark hair, that Harry spoke.

“Interesting article.”

“Quite. Why do they...”

“They like to see you aggravated.”

Number 23: Know what you’re thinking even when you don’t say it.

“Yes, most likely.”

They fell into a comfortable silence once again.

“Do you hear that?”

“What?” Hermione strained her ears, and in the distance heard a small sniffling noise.

“Sounds like someone crying.”

They glanced at each other and then quickly headed in that direction. It wasn’t long until they found the source of the noise. It was a small bundle of robes, long blonde hair spilling over the top, and quiet sniffs of tears were coming out.

Harry crouched down and softly touched the bundle, “Hey, are you alright?”

The girl looked up, revealing her tear-stained face. Hermione recognized the small Gryffindor first year at once.

“Nora?” Hermione asked, “What’s wrong?”

She sniffled, “Hermione? Harry? Is that really you?”

They shared a look, “Yes it’s us. What’s wrong Nora.”

She burst out in tears and threw her arms around Harry. He looked surprised at first, and then quickly overcame that, and patted her gently on the back.

“I couldn’t find the common room.” She wailed, “And Filch’s cat saw me, and I started running away, it kept following me and meowing.” She sniffed again, and gripped Harry even tighter. “Then I ran into this classroom and I heard Filch outside taking to his cat, and they went the other way, but it made me even more lost.” She buried her face into Harry’s chest, “It was so scary.”

Harry patted her on the back, and said soothingly, “Don’t worry Nora, we’ll take you back to the common room.”

Hermione nodded.

“You will?” Nora wiped her eyes.

“Of course.”

He helped her get up, and she grabbed his hand. Harry gave her a reassuring smile and began walking toward the common room. Hermione followed closely behind them.

“You know Nora,” Hermione started, “We’ve had quite a few run-ins with Filch ourselves.”

Harry gave her a smile, “Yes, in fact, once when we were running from him and his blasted cat, we ran into to huge 3-headed dog.”

“Really?” Nora seemed to be feeling a bit less frightened now that Harry and Hermione were there and telling her stories of their not-so-distant past.

“Oh yes. Its name was Fluffy.” Hermione smiled.

Nora giggled.

“That was before Hermione and I were friends.”

Nora’s eyes widened, “You weren’t friends once? I though you’ve been friends forever!”

Hermione chuckled, “No, Harry and Ron didn’t like me very much before they saved me from a troll.”

“They saved you from a troll?”

“We sure did.”

Nora was looking at them with a new respect. “What other ‘ventures have you two been on?”

Harry grinned, “Too many to count.”

“Tell me some!”

“Well, once we had to fly to the highest tower of Hogwarts to help someone out.”

“What’d you fly on? A broomstick?”

Hermione snorted, “Hardly, we went on a hippogriff.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s this odd creature that has the body of a horse and the head of an eagle. You’ll probably study them in Care of Magical Creatures later.”

“Will I get to see one?”

Harry smiled sadly, “No, I don’t think you will.”

Nora frowned, but instantly brightened, “There’s the Fat Lady!”

She gave Harry a big hug, and then gave Hermione one, “Thank you for helping me.”

Number 19: Help others out.

“No problem Nora.”

“Are you two coming inside?”

They looked at each other, “No, we’re going to stay out for a bit longer.” Hermione replied.

“Okay, but watch out for Filch.”

“We will.”

She disappeared into the portrait hole, waving good-bye to Harry and Hermione.

They turned around and began to walk again, and it was the same, but different. She felt it, an undeniable tension in the air, which heightened senses to the degree that she could smell what was uniquely Harry, a touch of Quidditch, aftershave, an odd smell of pumpkin pie, and a hint of cologne, which smelled like the depths of the woods. She could feel a small spark and an extra pump of her heart every time their shoulders brushed.

And it was all The Article’s fault- capitalizations necessary.

She had been trying to deny it for some time now. She reasoned she didn’t need this, he didn’t need this. Not now, maybe not ever, so she tried to forget. Forget the feelings, the looks, the emotions, the touches, but it was no longer avoidable. It was staring her in the face, and it didn’t seem to want to go away. She risked a glance at Harry, who looked deep in thought, eyes clouded over. He had to feel it too; otherwise he was blind, oblivious, and stupid - never a good combination.

“You sure are quiet tonight.” She said.

“Never talk unless it improves the silence.” He replied.

She smiled softly, and maybe even sadly.

He noticed, and became somber immediately. “You okay?”

Number 13: Realize he’s being funny when he needs to be serious.

“Perfect.” She replied shortly.

He gave her a worried glance, but didn’t push the issue.

They fell into silence once again. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Harry continuing to glance at her.

Number 24: Stare at you.

“What?”

He sighed, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you. Something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong Harry.”

He sighed again, “Okay.”

Hermione bit her lip.

“Hermione?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for being my best friend.”

Her heart shattered into a million pieces, but he continued.

“I mean, I could have never gotten anywhere without you.” He chuckled, “I’d be dead a million times over.”

“You’ve told me this before.” She croaked.

“Yes, but I think I need to tell you again.” He grinned, “Since I didn’t tell you the first 5 years I met you. But seriously, I love you.” He paused, then added in a rush, “As a best friend I mean.”

Number 18: Appreciate you.

Oh, how life was cruel.

Number 11: Never run out of love.

“Thanks Harry. Love you too.” More than you know.

They stopped a short while to have a friendly hug, in which Hermione had to stop herself from running her hands through that wonderfully messy hair.

How could he not feel this? This tension. How could he act as though nothing had changed? What a stupid, dense, oblivious boy. She had half a mind to just scream obscenities at him till she could scream no more. The idea was looking more and more appealing, until she heard a meow.

They both froze, and slowly turned around.

Damn Mrs. Norris and her bad timing!

Harry grabbed her hand-

Number 7: His hand always finds yours.

-and they ran.

“Where are we going?” Hermione panted.

“In here.” He yanked her through a door that she would have never noticed if she hadn’t been looking for it. Before she had time to register it, she was in the smallest closet she had ever seen, let alone been in.

There were mops and buckets, and bottles of Mrs. Skower’s All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover. The rest of the space wasn’t big enough for one person, let alone two. Her chest was pushed against the wall, Harry pushed up against her. Parts were touching that she really didn’t want to be touching right now. She started squirming around, trying desperately to become comfortable, which in her mind meant not touching Harry at all. She was stopped when two warm hands grasped he waist firmly.

Number 5: Come up and put his arms around you.

“Stop wiggling. You’ll get us caught.”

Oh, why did his breath have to be so warm, flowing into her ear? Crazy thoughts were entering her mind, they were so close, if she just turned around she could... Naughty thoughts, bad thoughts... Oh sweet Merlin. She closed her eyes. She heard Harry breath in deeply and then sigh.

Did he just smell her hair? No bloody way.

Number 2: Try to secretly smell your hair, but you always notice.

“Harry?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you pick such a bloody small closet?”

“I didn’t know what was behind that door! I would rather be in here instead of out there with Filch, but you’re welcome to leave.”

“No thanks.”

One of his hands slipped off her waist, and wrapped one of her curly ringlets around a finger.

Number 6: Play with your hair.

“Since when did your hair become so curly?”

Was this strictly platonic? She and Harry must have different views on the matter.

“Since I started taking care of it.”

“Oh.”

“Where are they my sweet?”

Filch’s voice was close.

They heard a meow.

Filch grumbled.

Another meow.

“Let’s check the trophy room then.”

One last meow, then retreating footsteps.

Hermione let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

“Bloody cat.” Harry mumbled.

She giggled.

Number 1: Know how to make you smile when you feel down.

“Now where’s the handle.”

His hand left her hair, -(one hand was still on her waist)- and she heard him start to fumble around for the handle of the door. Reaching behind her, she grabbed his hand, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through her.

“Don’t go out yet. He might be trying to fool us.”

She felt him nod, but didn’t let go of his hand.

After a few moments, she spoke again, “Okay, I think it’s safe.”

He nodded again, and his hand left hers. She missed the warmth at once. She heard him pushing against something, then groan.

“What’s wrong?” She still felt the need to whisper.

“It’s stuck.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant.”

She felt him shove against the door. It gave a squeak, but it didn’t budge.

A sudden idea struck her. “Scoot over as much as you can.”

He moved over a small amount, and she turned around so she was facing him. For lack of any other place to put her hands, she laid them on Harry’s chest- (this had nothing to do with wanting to feel Harry’s chest muscles, she reminded herself.)

“Okay, on 3, we run as fast as we can into the door.”

“Alright.” His voice sounded awfully strained.

“1, 2, 3! Go!”

The door flew open at contact- (she swore the doors, like everything else at Hogwarts had minds of their own, and enjoyed watching students struggling with them) - and they went tumbling onto the floor.

“Ooof.”

The ground was cold, cold and hard, but on top of her was warm, heavy but warm. Oh Merlin, something or someone was definitely against her, and she had a feeling she knew who it was. This was definitely not her day. Once again she was reminded how cruel life was. This was what? The 3rd time in an hour?

class=Section2>

Opening her eyes was a mistake - a very big mistake. Now all she could see were those gorgeous emerald eyes, and that very kissable mouth. All logical sense was thrown out the window, and she knew that if Harry didn’t get off her soon, she would do something very un-platonic. Like gripping the collar of his shirt and crushing her lips into his then running her hand through his hair, and her tongue... Oh sweet Merlin.

“I swear these doors have a mind of their own.” Harry said with a shaky grin, slowly getting off her.

Bless Harry and his sad attempt at humor.

Number 12: Be funny, but know when to be serious.

class=Section3>

“Most things at Hogwarts do.” She said, letting him help her up.

He grinned once again, this one seemed a bit more stable, “You know what?”

Number 16: Smile a lot.

“What?”

“We’re Head Boy and Head Girl.”

Where was he going with this? “So...?”

“So we didn’t have to hide from Filch. We could have just said we were making our rounds.”

She forced a laugh. She had to go through that for no reason? Oh the irony of it all.

“Let’s go to the kitchen.”

“Harry, it’s past midnight.” She raised her eyebrow all while giving a small smile.

“Please Hermione?” He pouted.

Number 8: Be cute when he wants something.

Damn you Harry Potter!

“Okay... fine.”

He grinned, “Great! I’m starved. Dobby can whip us up something.”

She glared at him.

His grin faltered, “That is, if he wants to I mean.”

The journey to the kitchens was awkward, and it was entirely Lavender’s and Parvati’s fault.

Tickling the portrait of the pear, they were greeted by a most amusing site. The house

class=Section4>

elves seemed to be throwing some sort of party. There were streamers and balloons that changed into different shapes every few seconds. An odd sort of music was playing in the background, with squealing voice, and what sounded like broken violins. Multiple cakes and pies of various

shapes and sizes were along a very long table, next to about 100 bottles of butterbeer. It must have been due to this that most of the house elves were running into walls and singing unique versions of muggle songs. (Mary had a wittle *hiccup* house-elf, wittle house-elf.)

Hermione looked as though she were about to burst from happiness.

“Er... Dobby?” Harry called for his friend, but Hermione smacked him on the shoulder. “Hey!” He grabbed his shoulder in mock pain.

Number 15: React so cutely when you hit him but it doesn’t really hurt.

“Don’t disrupt him from his party!” She scolded, but not harshly.

“Fine.” He walked over to the many cakes and pies. “Then I’m going to have a piece.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, “That’s their cake! For them! Not you. Don’t be selfish.”

He grinned, “They won’t miss a small piece of pumpkin pie...”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He made a show of picking up a knife and twirling it around between his fingers. He then began to make a large slice in the pumpkin pie, and turned to flash a grin to Hermione.

“I don’t believe you.” She hissed, not really too upset.

He then placed the piece of pie on a plate- (the plates had what looked like house-elves drawn on it, which were uglier than normal)- and picked up a giant can of whipped cream that must have been quarter of a meter tall. Spraying a hefty amount of it on his pie, and selecting a spoon from the many lying on the table, he walked slowly over to Hermione- (still carrying the whipped cream, with some difficultly)- purposely taking a bite of the pie.

“Why you little...”

But what exactly Hermione thought was little about Harry was not revealed, for at that moment, Harry sprayed a great deal of whipped cream directly in Hermione’s face.

class=Section5>

“Harry!” She wiped some of the whipped cream out of her eyes, and gave a futile glare. “You’re a dead man.”

With maturity beyond his years he stuck out his tongue. “Am I?”

And so it began; whipped cream flew, pie was thrown, and bodies were tackled. Very soon, Harry and Hermione found themselves in a tangled heap covered in whipped cream, cake, and pie, laughing hysterically in the middle of the kitchen.

After the laughter died down, Harry attempted to wipe off his glasses on his shirt, but only managed to smear more whipped cream on them. “Well, I’d say I won.”

Hermione, whose head was lying in Harry’s lap, and enjoying every moment of it, grinned. “Think what you like Potter.”

Harry poked her in the side, “You’re clearly covered with more food than me Miss Granger.”

“I beg to differ Mr. Potter.”

“Harry *hic* Potter?”

“Dobby?”

It was indeed Dobby, and it looked as though he had drunken a bit more butterbeer than was good for him.

“Harry *hic* Potter has *hic* come to Dobby’s party!” He glanced over to Hermione. “And *hic* so has Harry Potter’s *hic* honey.”

She saw Harry flush, and then glance down at her, as if to see what she would say to Dobby’s remark, but she kept quiet. Partly because she knew Dobby was quite drunk, and also

class=Section6>

because she wanted to see if Harry would say anything.

“Er.... Dobby...” He looked extremely uncomfortable, “Hermione is her own person. Not my...er...” He flushed darker, “Honey.” He finished

Number 3: Stick up for you, but still respect your independence.

Pratt! How can anyone come up with perfect responses that often?

Dobby gave a crooked grin, gave another hiccup, then did a wobbly twirl on the spot, “Then Harry Potter and his Hermony must dance.”

Hermione couldn’t help but snicker. Harry glared down at her.

“I’d really rather not.”

“Aw... come on Harry.” She grinned up at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Fine, but don’t blame me if I step on your toes.”

Number 10: Dance with you even if he feels like a dork.

As they got up from their comfortable position- (in Hermione’s view anyway)- both of them seemed to come to the realization at once.

“Er... Hermione... how exactly do we dance?”

It seemed that the ultimate goal of the house-elf music was to be, putting it bluntly, terrible. If the screeching voice wasn’t enough, along with the broken-sounding violins, the music had apparently no rhythm at all.

“Dobby?”

class=Section7>

Dobby, and Winky who was clinging to his arm in a drunken manner, spun very clumsily over to where Harry and Hermione stood, staring at them with a look of pure amusement on both of their faces.

“Harry Potter *hic* called Dobby?”

Harry looked to be trying to suppress a snicker. “Well Dobby, I was wondering. What is this...er... music?”

Dobby flashed a wobbly grin, “It is Dobby’s music! This is Dobby’s band.”

Harry snorted, and Hermione stomped on his foot, “That’s wonderful Dobby! It’s very...”

“Unique.” Harry inputted with a grin.

Hermione allowed a small smile, “Yes it is. Also Dobby, how exactly do we dance to it.” She stumbled over her words, “That is, we’ve never been, well... exposed to this particular music, and...” She trailed off at Dobby’s blank look.

“Why does Harry *hic* Potter’s honey Hermony ask such *hic* silly questions?”

Harry snickered and Hermione looked as though someone had told her she had failed her Transfiguration exam.

“Excuse me?”

Dobby gave a shrug and swung Winky around again, “Harry Potter and his honey just *hic* dance.” Seeing Hermione’s confused look he added, “Dance from heart.” They danced- (if

class=Section8>

you could call it that)- away and Harry grinned at her.

“Now this is what dancing should be about. No worries about making a fool out of yourself.”

His grin only grew as he twirled her around, and she gave a giggle, forgetting about Dobby telling her she asked a silly question.

She would never forget this, - that she knew.

*~~~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*

When Filch found them, they must have been quite a sight.

Still covered in whipped cream, bits of pie and cakes in their hair, bottles of butterbeer in their hands, and Hermione laughing hysterically as Harry sang an out-of-tune chorus from one of the Weird Sister Songs.

Number 22: Sing even if he can’t.

He just gave them a look, one he reserved especially for any member of the trio, and they stopped.

Harry gave him a false smile, “What can we do for you Mr. Filch?”

“How very fortunate of me to stumble along the Head Boy and Head Girl.” His tone was sarcastic to an alarmingly high degree. “I think you should be informed that there are some..” He paused, searching for the right word, “people, who have a high disregard for rules roaming around tonight.”

Hermione stifled a giggle.

“You don’t say Mr. Filch!” Harry’s eyes twinkled despite his serious tone. “We’ll keep a look-out for them as we patrol the area.”

Filch raised an eyebrow, “Yes, you do that while you... patrol.”

Giving them the look once again, he left, Mrs. Norris trailing behind.

Harry’s eyes twinkled yet more, making him look, if possible, more gorgeous.

At this thought, all the feelings came back full force for Hermione, and she no longer had to hide her mirth. Afraid Harry would notice the sudden change in her demeanor, she flashed him a quick grin.

“Nice cover up there Harry.”

He smirked, “It’s a gift.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled and began the walk to the common room. Harry followed, taking a swig from his butterbeer.

It was a time to think, to reflect upon the night, a time which neither talked.

~*~~~*~~~~*~~~*~~~~~*~~~*

(A/N This part is kinda weird, since it changes the point of view. You’ve been warned!)

They left a while ago, I think it was when the argument was going on. Smart little buggers, leave when no one is watching them. But then again, they’re both intelligent, even though she shows it more.

We make quite a trio, the three of us. I’m the funny guy, tall and gangly, flaming red-hair, but always loyal. She’s the brains, doesn’t want to break rules, but she always does when he’s in danger, or he needs her, which is often, really often. He’s the hero, the famous guy, everyone knows and likes him. He’s brave to a fault, and is very smart and talented in magic, though he wouldn’t tell you that, which is another thing, he’s modest. We’re a tricycle; we can’t function without one another. (And yes I know all about tricycles and bicycles now. Dad and I did a little research after someone, I forget who it was, made that comment.)

At least that’s what people say about us. I’m not sure whether I believe those people or not. Sometimes I think that the tricycle doesn’t suit us. I think that maybe we’re a bicycle with training wheels.

Sadly, I think I’m the training wheels.

I fear one day the training wheels will be taken off, and they’ll just ride away, forgetting about me.

Wow, that sounded all poetic and junk. Maybe she would like me if I talked like that all the time. Maybe she’d like me if I didn’t argue with her. Maybe she’s like me if I didn’t tease her. Maybe she’d like me if I listened to her, if I studied with her and didn’t complain.

Maybe she’d like me if I was Harry.

But I’m not. No need to remind myself. Harry is brave, courteous, suave, handsome -(or so I hear), and an all-around good person. If you don’t like Harry then you’re evil or plain mad. If you don’t like me on the other hand then, well, you’re normal. Maybe it’s not that bad, maybe I’m over reacting, and I’m getting off topic.

Can you get off topic when you’re musing? I suppose, but everyone does, so going off topic, is really kind of on topic, since there really isn’t a topic.

Argh, too much thinking.

Oi, Lavender’s yelling at me again. I think I’ll ignore her, maybe if I shut my eyes she’ll go away. Now maybe if I open them Hermione will be there.

Damn, that didn’t work. I should just keep my eyes closed all the time. Things might seem better then. But I’d also run into things a lot.

I’m internally sighing now. Nothing seems to go my way in life.

I open my eyes again, and the common room is empty. Empty and quiet, a rarity. Except for a bicycle, with training wheels. It wheels toward me slowly and then I see the front wheel is Harry’s head, and the back wheel is Hermione’s head. The training wheels are me, I’m hanging on to Hermione but I’m slipping, slipping off, and there’s nothing I can do, I’m being thrown into the common room fire, and they’re laughing and...

Giggles, and whispering.

“I think he’s asleep.” It’s Harry’s voice.

Another giggle from Hermione, “He’s drooling.”

“How long has he been here Neville?”

And blackness.

*~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

“How long has he been here Neville?” Harry asked.

Neville glanced up from what looked like a potions assignment, and raised an eyebrow at their appearance. “Er...about an hour and a half or so. He fell asleep a little while after you two left.”

“Thanks Neville.” Hermione gave him a smile, “How are you coming with potions?”

He shrugged, “Alright I guess.” And then went back to his parchment.

She glanced at Ron once again, “Should we wake him?”

“No, I think he needs all the sleep he can get.” He grinned at her.

“You’re probably right.”

“I know I am.”

She stuck out her tongue, “Pratt.” Then she gave a loud yawn.

“You should go to bed, you’re tired.”

“Brilliant deduction...” She gave another yawn, “Holmes.”

He gave her a curious look.

“No one reads famous muggle literature anymore.” She muttered.

He grinned, “I couldn’t have read it if I wanted. Do you think the Dursleys would have let me stroll to the local library?”

“Oh Harry! I’m so sorry! I should have thought before I opened...”

He cut her off with a wave of his hand, “Don’t worry Hermione. I know you were only joking.”

She blushed, “Actually I wasn’t, I really do think more magically inclined,” Harry snorted, “...Individuals should become more involved in the muggle world, including muggle literature.”

“I think I feel another organization coming on.”

She glared, “For your information, S.P.E.W. was a great success.”

“With its 4 members, which only joined because they were forced. ” Harry interrupted with a smirk.

“Shut it you git.” She yawned once again.

“Let’s get you to bed, you’re exhausted.”

“No complaints to that.”

They walked slowly to the foot of the staircase, Hermione leaning fully on Harry.

“Can’t go any further Hermione.”

She blinked and stood upright, “Alright then. Night Harry.”

He smiled, “Night Hermione.”

Number 25: Be a good friend.

~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*

They think I’m asleep, but I’m not. I’m watching them. She yawned again, and then he whispered something in her ear, and she gave a sleepy giggle. Berk, he’s flirting with her. I’m not sure he realizes it yet though.

That’s no excuse of course.

Now they’re completely still, staring at each other. What rubbish! Are they even thinking of my feelings? Are they considering me for a second? No, of course not, they’re moving closer.

I’m not going to watch this. I try to close my eyes but I can’t, and they’re snogging. Snogging with a passion I never knew existed, and, blimey I didn’t know it was possible for two people to be that close. He’s got her pinned to the wall, and his hands are planted firmly on her waist. She’s pushing herself into him as hard as she can, and her hands are tangled into his hair.

Oh Merlin, why can’t I close my eyes? I really don’t want to see this.

I scream out loud.

“NO! STOP!”

*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*

Harry and Hermione turned their heads quickly as they heard Ron scream in his sleep and mumble what sounded like ‘no’ and ‘stop.’

They exchanged curious glances. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out Harry said, “I’m sure it’s just a bad dream, let it run it’s course.”

“Fine. I’m going now.”

He gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek, “Sweat dreams.” And walked out of the common room.

Number 21: Always gives you a peck on the cheek when you depart from each others

company, even when his friends are watching.

Hermione stood, hand to her cheek, radiant smile on her face. Neville gave a snicker in the background, and Ron murmured something about ‘pie.’ Smile still on her face, she almost skipped up the stairs to her bed, where, due to the mysterious absence of Lavender and Parvati, fell immediately asleep.

And sweet dreams she had indeed.

*~~~~~***~~~~~~*~~~~~*

Harry opened the door to the 7^th year boy dormitory slowly, head still not cleared despite his walk, and still wondering exactly what had possessed him to kiss Hermione, his best friend, on the cheek. It wasn’t the first time, but it had seemed more... intimate? Maybe.

“Oy, Harry.” It was Seamus, “Get back from your snog with Hermione? Or did you shag this time?”

“WHAT?”

“No need to get all worried Harry.” Dean grinned, “We won’t tell anyone your secret. Just don’t go an’ get her knocked up. Don’t get too pissed when you’re with her.”

“I...what... Hermione and I? What? We’re not... shagging... or snogging... I.... we... she.... we don’t like each other... that way...” He stumbled terribly over his words.

“Sure Harry.”

“No, I’m serious.”

“Oh cripes! You are serious.” Seamus flushed, “Sorry ‘bout that Harry. Just a small misunderstanding.” He gave him a quick grin and closed the curtains around his bed.

Dean however, gave him a suspicious glance, “Are you sure you and Hermione aren’t dating. You sure look...”

“Shut it Dean. Lav and Parvati were right.” Seamus’ voice was barely audible.

“Oh, right. Night then Harry.”

“Good night.” Harry responded vaguely.

What did everyone know that he didn’t?

Well… I hope you all liked that… Please review… they make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Cheers,

Haley

class=Section9>

SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Hello to all.... *shuffles feet awkwardly* .... right so its been a long time sense I posted, and I’m really sorry.... really really really sorry.... See, I had this all typed out, all three parts, but my beta vanished, and... bottom line I couldn’t find a beta for a while, so I forgot about posting this then I remembered... so here I am... I’m so sorry... So here’s some answers to the many awesome reviews I’ve gotten... I saw the number and I was so like... wow.... anywho....

To everyone in general: Once again... sorry for the slow update. *dodges tomatoes* and thank you for the wonderful comments.

Also sorry for the confusion with the Ron scene, yes it was a dream, so Harry and Hermione didn’t snog....yet... hehe

Jaika: Sorry you think it’s going to fast, but I wrote this story amazingly quick, it like all flooded out and I couldn’t stop it! Thanks for the advice!

freak27thatsme: Yes, I was worried when I began this fic that 25 reasons was way too many, but that was how I got the email, and I didn’t feel like cutting stuff out. *grin* Ah... I’m lazy.

So before I continue let me thank my emergency beta.... and now... without further ado... *cough* .... The final part of 25 Things a Perfect Guy Would Do. Enjoy.

It was one week later when he figured it out.

He couldn’t believe it had taken him so long. Apparently he was less intelligent than Snape thought. Either that or blind.

He couldn’t see what had been in front of him for so long.

Despite what you may believe, it didn’t come as much of a shock. There were no dramatic revelations. It just was. It had been there all along. He just hadn’t seen it. Until today.

They had been studying in -- big surprise here -- the library. Ron had suddenly remembered that important “thing” he had to do. So it was just the two of them. They had gone straight to their usual spot, in the corner, near the large window, and sat down. She had immediately opened her Potions book, and the scratching of a quill on parchment soon followed. He had been less enthusiastic in starting the homework that had piled up over the week, and decided to flip through his DADA book so that she wouldn’t yell at him for doing nothing.

After reading about how it was possible to avoid being impersonated with the Polyjuice Potion, he got bored. So he looked up and glanced at her. She, like him, had abandoned her reading material, and was now staring out the window, a faraway look in her eyes.

After recovering from the shock of seeing her passing up an opportunity to read, he became concerned. “Hermione? Are you alright?” He didn’t know what had possessed him to ask such a question, but what the answer was, he never found out.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?”

She gestured outside, where snow was lightly falling. “The snow. Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?”

It was then he realized, while staring into Hermione’s eyes, that yes, he had seen something -- rather, someone -- a great deal more beautiful. And it all made sense. All the things he had done, the small things, like smelling her hair, or giving her a peck on the cheek, it now had a reason. But he couldn’t tell her that now. That wouldn’t be acceptable at all. So he only gave her part of an answer.

“Yes.”

He went back to his book, but he still saw her confused look. He smiled.

This was going to take some work.

*****~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~******

It was amazing how fast she had lost hope once again.

It had been a little over a week since Lavender and Parvati had read her “The Article,” and since Harry had given her a kiss on the cheek. Yet, in that amount of time, she had gone back to believe that there was no hope for her with Harry. Oh, how pathetic she sounded: like one of those obsessive fan girls or someone of that nature.

Pitiful.

There was one incident, however, which still gave her a bit of comfort. It had been a few days ago, in the library. She had commented on how beautiful it had been outside -- she had always loved snow -- and asked him if he had ever seen anything more beautiful. He had simply said ‘yes’ and gone back to his book. The look in his eyes then…it was something she couldn’t describe, but it was not like any look she had ever seen.

Or maybe she was just grasping at nothing.

Nevertheless, she was still losing hope, fast, and she didn’t know how much longer she could be around him. She found herself wishing that she never had met Harry Potter, never become friends with him, never gone on all their dangerous adventures, never fallen in love with him. It was her mother’s voice that came into her mind when she experienced these thoughts.

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

Alfred Tennyson: her mother’s favorite poet. She had always read a poem to her before bedtime from their vast collection. Personally, Hermione had never been a huge fan of Tennyson, or any poetry for that matter, but this particular poem had always intrigued her. Her opinion of it seemed to fluctuate depending on her mood. Now, she was in the mood to believe this guy had never loved at all, and was just some lonely old crazy fool.

She chose to ignore the fact that he had been married and had a child.

It didn’t help matters that Lavender and Parvati seemed to be especially aggravating these past 2 or 3 days, talking in that ‘I know something you don’t’ voice.

The thought made her chuckle internally. When did they ever know something she didn’t?

“Helloooo Hermy!” they both spoke at the same time, in annoyingly high voices, and still using that superior tone.

Oh Merlin, why did they seem to have a knack for showing up right when you really didn’t want to see them?

They sat down on the couch next to her, and both flashed her large smiles. “How are you Hermy?”

“Peachy,” she mumbled.

They shot each other knowing looks. She rolled her eyes.

“Don’t give up just yet Hermy,” Lavender said.

Her eyes stopped rolling at once. “What are you talking about?”

Parvati smiled mysteriously. “You’ll find out soon enough Hermy.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed as they stood to go, and Lavender gave her what looked like a friendly smile. “All in good time Hermy. Don’t lose hope.”

They pranced happily out of the common room, leaving Hermione more confused than ever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, she read as she always did when she wished her mind was as laid out as the sentences of Magical Medicines. This, of course, was quite often. Lavender and Parvati came in around 10 o’clock, giggling like mad--even more than usual.

“He’s so sweet!”

Of course, a bloke would make them giggle like that.

“Oh, hi Hermy!” They seemed surprised she was there, and immediately stopped their chatter.

“Hello.” Her voice was gloomy.

“You sound tired Hermy! Maybe you should get to bed.”

Who did she think she was? Her mother?

Regardless, “Yes, I was just about to thank you.”

“Okay.” They exchanged glances. “Sweet dreams.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her dreams were indeed sweet -- quite literally, in fact. She dreamt of pumpkin pie, and little house elves eating the pie with giant spoons that made scrapping noises, and flung roses, and the roses were all over her, and one was tickling her nose.

So, she scratched her nose, and brushed the silky pedal away. She took a deep breath in and rubbed her eyes. It smelled of roses, and they were everywhere. The roses covered every inch of the girls’ dormitory.

She rubbed her eyes again, not quite sure if she was still dreaming or not. Giving her arm a pinch that hurt quite a bit, she slipped out from under her covers. Roses fell onto the floor.

Lavender and Parvati were gone, beds apparently never slept in over the night. This caused her no concern. They had asked her to go to bed early: obviously didn’t want her to report them.

Of course, that was quite irrelevant to why the floor was littered with roses. And why a vase of more roses -- white ones -- were sitting on her dresser in a vase next to a note that displayed her name in a blocky script she didn’t recognize.

After admiring the white roses for a while -- they had always been her favorite -- she delicately picked up the note and opened it quickly.

Hermione,

How do I begin to tell you what you mean to me?
How can I ever make you understand the sweetness you have brought into my life?
I've lived in a world where almost nothing went right
A place where smiles were for rent,
And due back by the end of each night
Please forgive me when I sometimes fear that you will leave
For everything I've ever loved has vanished in my time of need
I know that you are a gift from God and are here to stay
But no one in my lifetime's ever treated me this way
You are an angel in disguise
You are my destiny
You are life's most precious prize
And my favorite company
I've forever dreamt of a girl who would share my dreams and love me for who I am
A girl capable of being my lover while being my best friend
I thought I would search forever and find that I am still alone
But the second I fell into your arms, I knew that I was home....

Look for the clues.

Love Always,

And that was it, no name, no hint, no...anything... And she was frustrated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She went to breakfast that morning, even though she didn’t feel like eating. She was looking for clues, as the letter had urged her to do. Frankly, she was tired: tired of waiting for Harry to speak to her, tired of pining after him. So, she resolved to give the mysterious admirer a chance, whoever he was. After all, if someone went to all that trouble for her, he couldn’t be all that bad.

Ginny grabbed a biscuit and handed one to Hermione. “How do you know it’s a guy though?”

“Ha ha, Ginny,” Hermione said dryly. “ Always the comedian.”

Ginny grinned at her.

Hermione took a small bite of her biscuit and immediately spat it out again.

“Sheesh Herms, I know the biscuits are a little dry this morning, but they’re not that bad.”

“No, no... it’s not that. It’s just…” She pulled apart her biscuit further. “There’s a slip if paper in here.”

Ginny made a clicking noise with her tongue, not all that unlike the sound Mrs. Weasley made so often. “Seems the House elves are slipping. Wonder how they managed that one. Probably dropped a napkin in the batter and forgot about it.”

Hermione glared at Ginny. “I’m sure this is not the house elves’ fault.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Oh right then, I’m sure it was those other creatures that make our food.”

Hermione glared again, but her attention was turned elsewhere as soon as she discovered what the slip of paper really was.

“It’s a note!”

Dear Hermione,

True love doesn't have a happy ending:
True love doesn't have an ending

Most things do though, including the things you enjoy most. Go to the place where you will find many endings.

Love Always,

“Wow, he’s quite cheesy, ” Ginny stated, after finishing reading the note.

Hermione flushed, “I think it’s sweet.”

Ginny grinned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Everything go well?”

“It sure did!” Ginny grinned.

“She didn’t suspect anything?”

“Nah, I’m a pretty good actress.” She smiled. “And I blamed it on the house elves, which distracted her a bit.”

“Did she say anything?”

“After I told her how cheesy it was, she said it was ‘sweet’.”

He grinned. “Thanks Gin, I owe you one.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She went to the library as soon as class was over. It was empty, aside from the usual students. The note had been straightforward in its description of the library, but now that she was here, she didn’t exactly know what to look for. After little thought on the matter, she decided that she would find whatever she was supposed to be looking for eventually, as her mysterious admirer wouldn’t make it difficult to find.

It was her strong opinion that if you were going to come to the library you should go to work. It was at this thought that she took her familiar path to the corner table, one which was unspokenly reserved for her, and placed her bag next to the overly stuffed chair.

She spotted it shortly after. It was lying on the table with single white rose placed on it, covering part of the title. Of course, she knew what it was immediately. As she opened up Hogwarts, A History, it fell open to reveal a small note tucked into the section titled Apparation at Hogwarts, Or Lack Thereof.

Dear Hermione,

The problem with being passionately in love is that it deprives you of too much sleep.

Get some sleep where you go next.

Love always,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did she get it?”

“Yeah,” Neville replied happily. “She looked really excited! Ran off before I could talk to her though.”

“Don’t worry about that. The plan is working nicely. Nothing to worry about.”

“True. Are Lavender and Parvati ready for the next step?”

“More than ready. They can’t wait.”

“Good,” Neville replied. “This is getting quite interesting.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello Hermy!”

She had never seen grins so large before.

“Hello Lavender, Parvati.”

“So, any idea who sent you those roses, Hermy?”

Straight to gossip as usual. “No, not the slightest.”

Did their grins grow?

“We do!” they chorused.

Hermione gapped at them. “Well, who then?”

They shook their heads simultaneously. “Sorry Hermy, we can’t tell. He’d probably kill us or something. Though, he did ask us to give you this.” Lavender produced a note from her pocket.

Hermione, still gapping at them and wondering how it was possible for them to keep a secret for once, took the slip of paper from Lavender’s extended hand.

“See you later, Hermy!” was all they said before bouncing out of the room.

Dear Hermione,

I was born to sorrow, to weeping,

My heart suffered silently;

But my means of delightful magic, a Spell in the flowers of my years,

Quick as a flash my fortune had changed.

Love is magic, and magic is everywhere. Go to the place where we learned the light of magic in our own requirement.

Love Always,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She was so confused!” giggled Parvati.

“Well, now it’s narrowed down for her.” Ginny grinned. “This is so much fun.”

“It is,” agreed Neville, “though I’m surprised he got us all to help him.”

“Well, why wouldn’t we help? He really seems to, well, love her,” Lavender sighed.

“Yes, but well, it is him.”

“True. I wouldn’t think he would want our help.”

Ginny laughed. “He needs all the help he can get.” Her laughter faltered. “By the way, where is Seamus?”

Neville shrugged. “He’s supposed to be helping setting up the next part.”

“Oh right. That’ll be tricky to prepare.”

“I only hope that’s what she’ll think.”

“I think he knows her pretty well, Dean.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was tired, but that didn’t stop her from going to the Room of Requirement. She wanted -- no, needed -- to find out who it was that seemed to be putting so much effort into this, plan of sorts. Yet, she knew they need not try very hard. Hell, if it was Gregory Goyle planning all this -- though she doubted he had the mind capacity -- she wouldn’t complain. She would give him her whole heart, no restraints. But, no, that was a lie, for, and at the risk of sounding horribly romantic, she knew a part of her heart would always belong to Harry Potter.

She reached the seventh floor, and the tapestry of Barnabas the Balmy, quicker than she thought she would. Musing had always made her lose track of time. Now, getting into the room was easy, but what to think of that would lead her to the next clue? ‘I need to find the next clue’ was the obvious choice, but why go through all these clues?

‘I need to find out who is behind this clue hunt,’ she thought as she passed by where the door would appear, three times.

The door did indeed appear, and so did an unexpected nervousness in the pit of her stomach. Her hand on the knob of the door, shaking slightly, she chastised herself for her foolish thoughts. After all, the person she was going to find in this room wouldn’t be the one she would spend the rest of her life with. Was he?

A boost of reassurance from the logical part of her brain and a blocking of her heart (which was how things should be) allowed her to open the door, only to find it empty.

A feeling of disappointment and relief, an odd combination, flooded through her as she surveyed the room. It was completely bare, aside from a small table, with what looked like a frame and a picture. Her heart leapt. Could it possibly be a picture of her admirer?

But no, as she drew closer to the lone picture, she realized it was not of one person, but of a group. It was a wizard’s photograph, as all the people in the picture were waving and smiling happily her, occasionally winking. Despite the situation, she smiled at seeing all her friends: Lavender, Parvati, Dean, Seamus, Ginny, Hannah, Justin, to her surprise a smirking Draco Malfoy, and Harry. Wiping a tear from her eye, she tore her gaze from the photo, and picked up the sheet of parchment carefully folded next to the picture.

Dear Hermione,

The obstacles restricting your mind. The powerful blow of love is stout

Liberating yourself, not knowing where to find…

There is no easy way out…

Nice try at taking the easy way out Hermione, but that never seems to work too well does it? No matter, the wait is over. Meet me by the largest rock on the shore of the lake.

Love Always,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re having way too much fun at this,” Ginny observed.

“So what if I am?” He smiled, an uncharacteristic grin reaching from ear to ear.

She smiled. “Ready for the next step then?”

“Aren’t we all?”

“True, but we all know how it will end.”

He gave her a nervous smile. “I hope so, for all of our sanity.”

She gave him a funny look. “I still can’t believe...”

“That I’m doing this?”

“Well...yes.”

He smiled, moving a piece of platinum blonde hair out of his eyes, “People do crazy things when they’re in love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was dark that night, darker than she could ever remember. The moon was hidden behind black clouds looming, broadcasting a likely chance of snow. She walked slowly, listening to the crunch of previously fallen snow under her feet. She shivered slightly, wrapping her cloak still tighter around her. It was late -- five minutes ‘til midnight, to be exact -- yet she was heading out towards the lake to meet her mysterious admirer. Lavender and Parvati, whom she was now convinced never stopped giggling, had bounced into her room and informed her of the time, since the note had failed to do so.

There was a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. There was no excitement, no nervousness, no anticipation, and this scared her. It scared her because she knew that no matter what she did for the rest of her life, she would never be truly happy, for she would never be with the person her heart longed for. She might sound tragic, horribly mushy, and like Professor Trelawney, but she knew it was true. And that frightened her terribly.

This, however, didn’t stop her from going to the large rock by the lake.

“Hello, Hermione.”

Her eyes widened. “You!”

He chuckled, something she had never seen him do before…at least not this way. “Yes, me. Surprised I see.”

“You planned all this!”

“Yes. It was my idea.”

“But why?”

“Well, I suppose I’m in love. It does crazy things to people. Therefore, for this girl, I’d do anything.”

She was speechless. Draco Malfoy, in love with her? The impossible had become improbable, then possible.

“Speechless, Hermione? That’s something you don’t see often.”

“When......?”

“…did I plan this? Well, I was tutoring actually, and Potter came along looking hopeless and scared, to say the least. Quite funny actually.”

“Harry? What does he have to do with this?”

“Patience, Granger. I’m about to tell you.”

*~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~~~*

“Wait, so it’s an essence of hellebore?”

“Yes. That’s what you didn’t understand?”

She laughed. “I guess so.”

“Go figure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Malfoy?”

“Nothing at all, Ginevra.”

She glared at him. He smirked.

“Hey, Harry!” Ginny called out.

He glanced up, having not noticed them before.

“‘Lo Ginny. Malfoy.” He gave Draco a curt nod.

“What’s the matter, Potter? You look hopeless, but then again what’s new?”

“Har har. Love that humor, Malfoy.”

“Seriously Harry. What’s wrong?”

He placed his head in his hands and mumbled something.

“What was that?”

“I’m in love and don’t know what to do about it.”

“Girl problems, huh? It happens to the best of us.”

Ginny patted Harry on the arm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Back to present~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I still don’t understand.”

“For being so smart you’re quite dense.”

~~~~~~~~~Flashback continued~~~~~~~~

“So who is it, Potter?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Sure it does.”

“Why?”

“Because we can help you.”

Draco glanced at Ginny. She gave him a pleading look.

“Sure Potter. I’m full of good ideas.”

Harry snorted.

“Number one, don’t snort. It’s very unattractive.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~End Flashback~~~~~~

“Let me get this straight. You’re here because you’re helping Harry with girl problems.”

“By golly, I think she’s got it!”

“Where does my admirer come into all this?”

Draco groaned. “Merlin, do I have to spell it out for you?”

It was unimaginable. What she had longed for, what she had deemed impossible, was perhaps true? It was unthinkable. A voice told her there was a chance she had misheard. Part of her wanted that, happy being miserable. Or she might be confused, in a swirl of emotions conflicting with each other, making no sense. Sometimes the mind believes something is too good to be true -- an expression often used and often true -- and it has a tendency to deny what you so much want to be real. The logical side of you becomes the opposite, and becomes confusing. For someone who is so dependant on this side of herself -- someone who may be quite like Hermione -- this is frightening, making her not know what to say or think, what to believe…and the world and what was once logic becomes all too blurry.

“I....”

The ability to form sentences, once a simple function, was lost.

“You understand now, Hermione.”

She gaped at him. “....R-really....?”

The mouth has no other purpose but to open and close, yet hers struggled to collect the oxygen needed.

He chuckled. “Yes.”

A blank stare.

“I believe my time here is overdue.”

“...o-overdue?”

He chuckled again. “Yes, I’m not the person you really want to see am I? ‘Sides, you and Potter have inspired me. It’s time I’ve had the chat I should have had long ago with the woman I love.”

“...love?”

“Ginny.”

She blinked, and he was gone.

“Who knew? Draco and Ginny?”

It was his voice that removed her from her temporary paralysis. She spun around to meet his emerald eyes, shining brighter than she could ever recall, emotions in depths that were, before now, unseen.

She could have kissed him there, but she didn’t.

“I... why did you...” she gestured around, “…do all this...ask me to meet you here?”

He ran a hand through his hair -- a habit she loved among many -- only meaning that he was nervous.

“Yes...well... I....”

She gave a small smile. Her eyes sparkled.

That was all the reassurance he needed.

“I love you.” His voice was strong. “Very much so...” It broke, emotion showing through.

The sparkle grew in her eyes, the shock disappeared. She stepped closer to him. He trembled.

Her voice was a whisper. “I’m afraid to reply. My dreams end then.”

He reached out, arm trembling, and lightly grasped her arm, rubbing it slightly.

“I swear this is real.”

She stepped yet closer. “You’re not going anywhere?”

“No.” His voice croaked.

They were so close their chests were touching. Her eyes bored into his.

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

He bent his head down. She tilted hers up. Breath was hot on their faces.

“I love you too.” Her voice was barely audible, but he heard it quite well.

There was a sigh of relief, cut off quickly when his lips descended upon hers. It was quick and chaste…a testing of waters. The waters were warm, soft, and begging to be explored. He complied, and they moved as close as possible.

It was a peace of hearts, a struggle of tongues. A joining of souls, a separation of breath. A time of happiness, yet tears fell. It was right, as his hands felt her skin, but it could be wrong. They were blinded by dazzling light, though they were surrounded by darkness. She was hot where his hands roamed, cold where the snow landed. He was so near, yet too far. She felt complete, when just minutes before she was only a part. It was a time to explore, yet they were home.

Epilogue

“Harry....mmm.... we....mmm....really... should.... they’ll be.... mmm... here....soon....”

“You really want to?” he asked, continuing his trail of kisses up her neck.

“Mmm... no...” She made a groan from the back of her throat. “But... Ron.... and ..... Luna....”

“Right...” He pulled away suddenly, smirk planted on his face. “If you insist.”

She gaped at him. “Well that is... I’m sure... They won’t be here for another few moments...”

“No... no... you’re right. We should be ready for them....”

Hermione gave a growl and grabbed what had been Harry’s perfectly placed tie, and pulled him into a crushing kiss, most certainly bruising both their lips.

And then came the knock at the window. They both shared a groan.

“Bloody owls....”

He untangled himself from Hermione, knowing full well if they didn’t let that bloody owl in now, they would pay for it later. Scowl planted on his face, he opened the window to let in the tawny owl, Hermione standing impatiently behind him.

“Well, who is it from?”

Harry couldn’t help but grin at her restlessness. “Don’t you recognize it?”

Hermione, after closer inspection, did seem to realize who the owl belonged to, as she let out a small groan. Harry’s grin grew.

“What? You don’t want to hear from our friends?”

Hermione mumbled something under her breath.

“Let’s see what pressing information they have to tell us about now.” He opened the surprisingly thick package and out fell an envelope and a highly glossy magazine, which was titled in letters that continued to change colors: The Pumpkin Pie: A Witch’s Guide to the Important Things in Life. On the cover was a couple feeding each other pumpkin pie, and flashing article titles such as “Mastery of Matchmaking,” “How You Know Your Friends Are In Love and What To Do About It,” “Matches Made In Heaven,” and catching both Harry and Hermione’s attentions, “25 Things A Perfect Guy Would Do.”

“What?”

Harry was already opening the letter, and laid it on the table for him and Hermione to read.

Dear Harry and Hermy,

How are you two doing? We’re sure you’re doing just fine. After all, you’re with each other! The wedding was wonderful by the way. We’re also sure the honeymoon was much better, if you catch our drift... wink wink.

Hermione blushed, and Harry smirked.

“Too true…” he muttered. She gave him a playful slap.

We’re sure you’re wondering about the reason we’ve written to you. Not that we need a reason to write to you, but still... As you can see, enclosed is a magazine entitled The Pumpkin Pie, which includes an article entitled “25 Things a Perfect Guy Would Do.” This is no coincidence, our friends. You see, we are the makers of this ingenious magazine! It is you two (and the Strawberry Shake) that inspired us in making this magazine. The title is due to that wonderful little incident Hermy let slip in her dreams which involved you two and an interesting way of eating pumpkin pie.

Hermione flushed.

If this was indeed only a dream, Hermy, and not something that did happen before, we suggest you inform Harry of this dream so it can in fact become reality. (We’re positive you both would enjoy it. Wink wink again.) We know how much you hate these magazines, Hermy, but we do suggest you both look at the article that got you two together in the first place, and the note from us at the beginning. We made sure you two remained nameless.

Lots of Love From,

Lavender and Parvati

P.S. Hermy, we’re still single! Know anyone you can hook us up with?

Hermione gave a small chuckle, and Harry immediately picked up The Pumpkin Pie and flipped to the note mentioned in their letter.

Dear Kind Readers,

As you pick up this magazine, be assured you are reading material under the supervision of two women who have been through it all. We are highly experienced in boys and toys and makeup and robes and dances and matchmaking. We have suffered the heartbreaks that you undoubtedly will, and seen the love between people that we only hope you see in your lifetime. Speaking of this love, let us tell you, we are quite the matchmakers. We have put together many couples which shall remain nameless, for we are not the type of people to sell our product under famous names. Though, if those couples we matched at Hogwarts (hint hint) would like to write us a letter and tell us you would not mind being named in this magazine, (after all, you get so much attention, a little more wouldn’t hurt) you, our readers will be first to know the names. As you might have guessed from the cover page, this issue -- our first -- is all about matchmaking and our experiences with it. Our most successful matchmaking scheme is found on page 7: “25 Things a Perfect Guy Would Do.” We thank you for buying this magazine, and continue to do so...

Sincerely,

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil

P.S. Next issue will portray the wonders of Divination and how it can help you find the right boy.

Hermione couldn’t restrain the rolling of eyes, but flipped to page 7 wordlessly.

25 Things a Perfect Guy Would Do

It was funny, seeing the title of the article that had changed her life so dramatically. A small smile made its way to her face, and she could see Harry too had a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. He wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Remember that day?”

“Of course.”

They read it together, each thinking back to when each of the things had occurred, since each of them had, and very well. At the end was yet another note from their friends.

This was the original list which helped our bright but dense friend realize the perfect boy for her was standing right in front of her all that time. However, we should think one addition should be added to this list.

26. Love you with all his heart.

True, it may sound cheesy, or you may think it unlikely to find in a boyfriend while you’re still in school if you still are. But, it is an essential part of a perfect relationship, and one all of our match-made pair had. This is the true key to matchmaking, dear readers: simply acting on something already there.

They smiled, and he gave her a kiss on the temple.

“I love you,” he whispered, as though it was a secret.

“I love you too.”

“Want to show me just how much you love me?” Harry gave her a suggestive wink.

She gave a small smile. “Just what are you implying, Mr. Potter?”

“You know exactly what I’m...” The doorbell rang. He groaned. “...implying.”

She slipped out of their embrace. “Don’t worry...” She leaned close. “I’ve got you for the rest of the night, and the rest of our lives.”

She then walked off to the door, but Harry stayed planted to the spot, silly smile on his face.

“Ron! Luna! How are you two?”

“We saw a Moonstile Mosenpile on our honeymoon!” came Luna’s voice. “It was amazing.”

“Oh....um...yes...fascinating.” He could hear the disbelief seeping out of her voice.

“Where’s Harry?”

“He’s coming.” Was that a hint of laughter in her voice? “Coming, Harry?”

He finally found his voice. “Oh...ya... be there in a minute.”

“Excellent!”

“We saw a Moonstile Mosenpile on our honeymoon. It was so romantic.” Luna’s voice sounded more in a dream state than usual.

“Yes...it was, very much so.”

Harry walked through the doorway. “I bet.”

He gave a smile to his wife. She winked at him.

“Compose yourself, Harry?”

He gapped at her. “Well...yes...I... yes...”

She seemed to try and suppress a smile, “Brilliant.”

Not for the first time since he had been fortunate enough to receive Hermione’s love, Harry thanked his lucky stars for Lavender and Parvati and their blasted article.

Yay! The end! I love this last part... hopefully you all enjoyed 25 Things a Perfect Guy Would Do... Also thanks to my wonderful last-minute beta again.

Cheers,

Haley