Hints of Love by DVSEzekiel316

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 28/01/2003
Last Updated: 02/07/2004
Status: Paused

The Trio's 7th Year. For the 2 years that Harry has been in love with Hermione, he struggles
to win her heart by showing her 'hints of love'. Is there a reason Hermione fails to notice
it, or is Harry not working hard enough? H/H




1. Prologue
-----------

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and
Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended.

**Author notes:** Please R/R. I really have a thing for a real Harry/Hermione SHIP to happen
in the real books. My biggest feeling is that Harry will fall in love with her, but keep his
feelings to himself because of obvious reasons. This fic is dedicated to that thought. (Come on
Harry! I know you love Hermione somewhere in that heart of yours!!!) I would like to hear all of
your opinions!!!

Another thing … think about this…

"Hermione" was a character in Greek mythology who was loved by two men. She was the
daughter of Helen of Troy and Menelaus. These men (Orestes 2 and Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles)
fought terribly for the love of the beautiful Hermione (Harry and Ron?). Orestes 2 was killed by a
snake. Could this mean that either Ron or Harry will die at the hands of Lord Voldemort (whose
symbol is a snake?). Hmmm…

A special notice for you fellow H/H SHIPmates out there…

In the new movie, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, set to be released on November 15th,
our favorite “couple” share a very cute and adorable hug with each other. Now that’s another great
reason to see it!!!
**Chapter 1 - Prologue**

Harry Potter, the boy who lived, complete with the raven-black, untidy hair, emerald green eyes,
and round framed glasses, walked around Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’s lake. Since
his 5th year, he found himself doing this whenever he needed to think about things; a person in
particular, Hermione Granger.

Harry had fallen for his best friend over the summer after their 4th year, right about when she
had kissed him on the cheek to say good bye. At first, Harry thought nothing of it, until it played
over and over in his mind during the summer break. After that, Hermione clouded his mind since, all
the way to his 7th year at Hogwarts.

***

When Ron and Hermione started to go out in their 5th year, it was a very arduous time for Harry.
His attitude toward them was so extreme at times that even Harry himself noticed his own change in
behavior toward them; a bit curt at times, but not entirely friendly. It wasn’t that he was
entirely jealous; he was very happy for the two, especially Hermione. It was just hard to see your
best male friend kissing your best female friend, who you just happened to love as well, every day
of your life.

The day that Ron broke up with Hermione was the day all the weight from Harry was lifted. Just
months after the day they were together, it had come to an end. Apparently, Ron wasn’t getting the
love he thought he would get from her and although the breakup was supposedly “mutual”, Hermione
was devastated. What made it surprising for Harry was that right after the breakup, she ran
straight to him for comfort. With her hands on his shoulders and her face in his chest, she cried
as Harry held her in a tight and warming hug. It was that moment that made him realize that Harry
loved her even more and he made it clear that he would “always be there for her”.

As quickly as she jumped in his arms, everything went back to normal. It took a while for Ron
and Hermione to start talking again but when they did, they became the strong trio again.

About a few days later, Harry did all he could to catch Hermione’s attention and to get her to
realize that he was interested. He’d give her various flowers for no apparent reason. “Just thought
you might want to have this,” and “Found this for you,” were easy explanations for him. He even
asked and took her out to dinner in Hogsmead during the year.

On Christmas, he bought her a golden necklace with a “Hermione” pendant at the end and on
Valentines Day, he gave her a bouquet of roses with a note saying, “I’ll always remember you… until
the last rose dies”. The look that Hermione gave him was surreal. Even thought she said, “thank
you”, he could tell that she thought he was crazy, but he did have enough self-control to keep
himself from laughing hysterically. Little did Hermione know that the special thing about the gift
was that Harry had enchanted the middle rose with an immortal charm, making it impossible for it
too die. Weeks later, as the roses died off one by one, she noticed that one rose of the bouquet in
particular refused to die. After figuring out the meaning of the message, she ran into him in one
of the corridors and gave Harry a loving hug saying, “That’s very sweet Harry.”

Other than that, there was no “real” response from Hermione at all. Harry seemed very
disappointed. He was either not clear enough to Hermione, or Hermione knew very well what he was
trying to tell her.

As the school year went on, it became somewhat like a challenging game for Harry and the rules
were simple: Make it known to Hermione that you love her and want to be more than just friends.
Though madly in love with her, he never told anyone about how he really felt, except for one
person: Hedwig.

His godfather, Sirius Black, had given him a small silver necklace that same Christmas,
enchanted so that the one wearing it would be able to speak to their most beloved animal friend. It
was fun talking to Hedwig every once in a while, not because that it was just cool talking to an
animal, but because Harry could get things off his mind and tell Hedwig all of his deep secrets,
with a confidence that she would keep her word not to tell a living soul. Who else would talk to an
owl?

The gift Harry had received would play a huge part in his life. It was strange really, seeking
advice and help from an owl to get a girl’s attention, but Harry needed all the help he could get.
The best part was that if anyone was to overhear or catch Harry talking to Hedwig, it would simply
sound like them hooting back and forth to each other. Students simply shrugged it off and called it
“cute and childish pet-talking”.

As their 5th year came to an end, Harry’s hard work hadn’t paid off. Hermione was still the same
friend he had found in in his 1st year but probably a little more flattered than usual.

***

Harry’s goal in his 6th year was simple enough: Make it known to Hermione that you love her and
want to be more than friends. After getting endless advice from Hedwig once again, Harry went on
with his attempts, still taking her out to Hogsmead and giving her flowers for no apparent reason.
During the time period, Ron had gotten accustomed to a girl from Hufflepuff named Rachel Richards;
a very pretty girl with her hair always in some sort of ponytail variation. Ron even questioned
Harry about his actions toward Hermione.

“Do you like Hermione?” he whispered out of nowhere one day during class when he caught Harry
stealing glances at her.

“I don’t know Ron” was the same answer he always replied with. Harry was also surprised that Ron
never bothered him with it as much as he thought he would have during the year; probably because
Ron was too occupied with Rachel.

On Christmas, instead of a material gift, Harry took her out on a special date instead. Somehow,
many student heard about this and came across it as being very unusual. Instead of a material gift,
he takes her out on a date? It was this that made many students at Hogwarts begin to realize that
Harry Potter may indeed have feelings for Hermione Granger.

Harry took her out to Hogsmead again and put his heart and soul in to making her comfortable and
happy. After the date, they made their way back to Hogwarts, sat outside for a long time, and just
talked. After talking for a really long time, they made their way back to the Gryffindor common
room and Harry walked her to the door of the girl’s dormitories and the last thing Hermione said
was, “Thank you Harry. That was a very sweet of you.” She stood on her tiptoes, leaned her head up
towards his, and gave him a rather longer-than-usual-kiss on the cheek. Harry’s eyes slammed shut
as he felt Hermione’s lips on his cheek and when she pulled away, his eyes opened again. She turned
around, opened the girl’s dorms door, walked inside, and gave Harry a final wave before shutting it
behind her. This would be the first and only time Hermione ever said a “proper” goodbye to Harry
after a date.

On Valentines Day, Harry gave her the largest rose he could get his hands on, which happened to
be about 4 feet long, the stem being about as thick as a wand, the leaves on it about as big as her
hands, and a rosebud at least the size her head. Harry felt extremely proud when he gave it to her
in the Great Hall at breakfast, which of course, caught everyone‘s attention. It wasn’t usual for a
person to walk in the Hall with a 4 foot rose in hand! He walked over to her at the usual spot
where they sat.

“This… is for you Hermione,” he said timidly, as he held the rose in front of her. Hermione’s
eyes couldn’t have gotten any rounder as she stared astoundingly at the huge rose. She said nothing
as she awkwardly took the rose from him and examined it delicately in her hands. She put the huge
rose bud up to her face, closed her eyes, and inhaled it’s fragrance. A wide grin appeared on her
face as she pulled away.

“Oh Harry!” she exclaimed as she jumped out from her seat and wrapped both arms around his neck
in a tight hug. “Thank you!”

“You’re… welcome,” sputtered Harry as she pulled away and examined the rose again with the same
grin visible on her face. He apparently was surprised by Hermione’s quick reaction.

“You’re so sweet to me you know,” she added,. She turned back to him, stood her tiptoes, and
kissed him on the cheek, the same way she did after the Christmas date.

If the date with Hermione didn’t make students think Harry liked her, Valentines Day and the
rose did! Soon after Harry and Hermione sat back down and settled, many giggly girls in the
Valentine’s spirit and in awe of Hermione came up to her.

“Wow look at the size of that thing!”

“That’s so cool!”

“I wish *my* boyfriend gave me something like that!”

Those were some of the things that were said when they spoke. Hermione couldn’t help but glance
over at Harry and smile. Harry couldn’t help it too. Just then, Ron came in.

“Hi Harry. Hello Hermione. Who gave you the rose?”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other at the same time and smiled.

As their sixth year ended, it ended the same way as 5th year, Hermione showed absolutely no sign
of recognizing Harry as more than a friend. Harry didn’t know if he was angrier at Hermione or
himself. He either worked hard or didn’t work hard enough. Hermione had the nerve not to notice
anything!? And she was supposed to be smart… But still, all in all, Harry had a good and fun time
this specific year.

**A/N: Yet another H/H story for all of my SHIPmates out there. I dedicate this one especially
to my friend Alison, who gave me the real life experiences which lead to ideas to write this story.
I miss you greatly…**



2. The Conversation
-------------------

**Chapter 2 - The Conversation**

As Harry sat thinking about the past few years he had with Hermione by the lake, a white owl
landed on top of his shoulder, startling him from his daydreaming.

“Hi Hedwig,” hooted Harry, looking at her on his right shoulder. Fortunately, he was wearing his
special necklace from Sirius, which allowed him to talk to her.

“Hello Harry,” she hooted back. “How are you dear boy?”

“I’m fine Hedwig,” he replied, picking her up off his shoulder and putting her so she could sit
in his lap instead. “Where’d you come from?”

“Just back from my early morning flight,” said Hedwig, using her beak to preen herself. “And by
the look on your face, you look like you just came back from daydreaming.”

“I was not!” Harry lied, giving it away by turning a dark shade of red.

“Sure Harry. You always come to the lake to think. Especially when you need to think about
Hermione.”

Harry closed his eyes, bowed his head slightly, and laughed through his nose. It was no use
denying it anymore and Hedwig was right the first 100 times they had done this.

“Still in love Harry?” she asked.

“More than ever Hedwig,” he replied. “It seems the more I see her, the more in love I fall.”

“Then why don’t you just tell her how you feel then?”

Harry gave a small smile. “Hedwig, we had this conversation yesterday, the day before that, and
the day before that. And guess what? My response isn’t going to change.”

“And what would that response be?” she asked, narrowing her eyes a little.

“That I *can’t* tell her how I feel Hedwig,” Harry answered exasperatedly. “You know that
already.”

“And why not?”

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. This isn’t how the conversation
usually goes, thought Harry. She usually eggs me on even more to tell her.

“Why… why not?” Harry stuttered, suddenly feeling stuck. Hedwig nodded, knowing that she had
caught him and gave him a cute owl smile that Harry could barely make out. It took sometime before
Harry spoke.

“You know what Hedwig?”

“What’s that Harry?”

“That’s… a really good question. Why won’t I tell Hermione that I like her?” he replied,
sounding as pitiful as the words that came out of his mouth. Hedwig shook her head and
shrugged.

“It must be a heck of a reason if *you* don’t even know,” she said as-a-matter-of-factly.
Harry scratched his head, something that he started to do when he was trying to think but got no
answers from his brain.

“Tell you what,” he started, looking down at Hedwig, “when I find out, you’ll be the first to
know.” Instead of looking flattered at his offer, Hedwig shot him a look that could’ve killed.

“The only reason why you’re going to tell me first is because you know that I am incapable of
telling anybody else!”

“So?” smiled Harry. “That’s the best part about having a owl that only its owner can talk to.”
Hedwig returned his smile, spreading her wings in a way to sort of bow to him.

“I’m sure Hermione would want to hear the reason too,” she suggested.

“About why I don’t want to tell her I love her? That’ll be the day!”

“Speaking of Hermione…” trailed Hedwig, her eyes focused on a point a few yards behind Harry. He
turned his head around and saw none other than Ms. Granger making her way toward them.

Same old Hermione, thought Harry. He was right. Out of Ron, Hermione and himself, Hermione went
through the least change of the three. She did, however, develop into a stunningly pretty woman
over the last few years and her brown hair was just as bushy as ever. You could easily make her out
if she was standing in a crowd of girls. This was one of the reasons why Harry liked Hermione so
much. She didn’t really care about how she looked in front of people. She wore no make-up and at
least brushed her hair to make it orderly. Harry fell in love with her natural beauty, the beauty
that Hermione doubted time after time that she didn’t have.

“Hi Harry!” she yelled as she trotted over to them. “Ron told me I would find you here.”

“Hello Hermione,” said Harry, making room for her under the tree he and Hedwig were resting
under.

“I couldn’t help but over-hearing you and Hedwig in one of your cute little conversations
again,” she smiled, as she sat down next to him.

“*That’s* the smile you love, isn’t it Harry?” said Hedwig to him, which sounded nothing
more than a methodical hoot to Hermione.

“That’s the one,” he hooted back to her.

“See? That’s it!” exclaimed Hermione, pointing at Harry and Hedwig and smiling. “How she hoots
at you and how you hoot back at her! It’s so adorable! I swear, it’s almost like you two are
actually talking sometimes.”

Harry couldn’t help but grin back at her. It was a nice feeling that Hermione thought it was
cute how he and Hedwig engaged in conversation. But it was even more fun talking about how much he
liked her, right in front of her face without her knowing.

“So what you up to?” asked Harry, turning his attention toward Hermione.

“Actually,” she said, turning a light shade of red, “I need to talk to you Harry.”

“Me?” he said, feeling a bit surprised at her request.

“Yes Harry. You,” she responded, making it seem like she was saying “well whom else then?”
instead, then turning toward Hedwig.

“Do you mind if I speak with Harry alone for a while Hedwig?” she said in a pet-talk sort of way
as she smiled and stroked her wing gently. “It‘s rather personal.” Hedwig nibbled her finger in an
affectionate way, spread out her wings in a bowing manner, hooted a “good luck” to Harry, and flew
off. Hermione was the first to speak.

“So what are you doing out here?” she asked, making herself a little more comfortable under the
shade of the tree.

Thinking, thought Harry. The same thing I do every time I come out here. “Nothing,” he
replied.

“You’re a bad liar Potter,” Hermione teased, “I notice that you come out here every time you
need to think.”

“I‘m impressed Granger,” he replied with a smile, “I’m beginning to think that you can somehow
read my mind.” Hermione giggled.

“So what were you thinking about Harry?” she asked, looking excited as to what his response
might be.

The same thing I think about every time I’m out here Hermione, he thought. You. “Nothing in
particular,” said Harry, half-blushing, “I just needed time to myself, that’s all.”

“Oh,” replied Hermione, a bit disappointed about getting an answer that wasn’t exciting at
all.

“So what were you going to talk to me about?” asked Harry, feeling a little flustered that he
was alone in the shade with Hermione. “Must be really important if you had to send Hedwig away.”
For the first time in the conversation, it was Hermione’s turn to turn a shade of scarlet.

“Well… I,” she stammered and then paused. Harry just stared at her. He had never seen her look
so uncomfortable. Hermione took a deep breath before speaking again.

“Well since you’re Head Boy, it… is your duty to help others when they are in need of advice
right?” she said nervously.

“How about you?” added Harry. “You are Head Girl. And A LOT smarter than I am. What advice could
I give you?” This made Hermione turn a little redder.

“Well… um… promise not to laugh?” she said in a soft voice.

“Of course,” said Harry in his most comforting voice. “I would never laugh at you.” Hermione
smiled back at him. The same smile that Harry grew to love. Don’t smile at me like that, he thought
. Or I may just kiss you right now.

“Harry… how… do you know… when you’re… in love?” asked Hermione, not making eye contact with him
at all. Harry’s eyes widened at her question. Out of everyone in Hogwarts, why on earth would she
specifically ask him… *that*?

“Well…” started Harry, he himself beginning to fell very awkward. “How do you know when you’re
in love? Um…”

“It’s ok if you don’t know Harry. I just…”

“No no, Hermione it’s not that,” he interrupted. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” she asked, looking back at him.

“Nothing,” replied Harry, as he paused to look right back into the eyes of Hermione. He himself
couldn’t explain it, but there were something about them that drove him insane. “But about your
question…”

“Yes?”

“Well it’s kind of hard to explain really,” said Harry, scratching his head, “But there are some
vital signs, like thinking about the person excessively and finding yourself daydreaming more
often. Having the need and desire to see the person everyday and when you do, you find yourself
stealing glances. But to sum it all up, it’s really when you’re around the person; when you can’t
speak, you can’t breathe, you can’t think. When you get this feeling inside when stand next to this
special person and nothing else matters. You just feel it in your heart…” Harry found himself
stopping dead in his speech. Without knowing it, he had told Hermione how he felt when he figured
out he was in love with her.

“Well I must say Harry, that I am impressed,” admitted Hermione. “I’m impressed that you could
break it down like that. I’ll keep your advice in mind.” Suddenly, Harry had the urge to ask her
why she asked him that question in the first place, but that moment soon passed because Harry
wanted to ask another question.

“What are you doing this late afternoon?”

“Um… I think that I have noth…yes, I’m free. Why Harry?”

“Do you mind if I take you out then?” asked Harry. After asking her countless times before, it
got much easier for him to do with confidence. Hermione’s eyes lit up, making him shift in his
sitting position.

“Of course Harry!” she exclaimed. “This’ll be so exciting! Where are we going to go?”

“We’ll considering that we do have limits and school rules to follow,” replied Harry
matter-of-factly and trying to sound intelligent too, “we don’t really have a choice do we
Hermione?”

“Hogsmeade?” she said with a grin on her face.

“Yep,” nodded Harry. “I…” but he couldn’t finish his sentence because Hermione had flung her
arms around him. “I’m so excited!” she said into his ear before withdrawing from him. “It’s been a
while since we’ve been out.”

Tell me about it, thought Harry. Maybe you’ll realize what I’ve been trying to tell you for so
long…



3. The Date Preparation
-----------------------

**Chapter 3 - The Date Preparation**

As Harry fumbled with his shirt in the boys’ dormitories to get ready for the date that he and
Hermione were having, Ron decided it was best to laugh and snicker at him as he watched Harry
literally go crazy.

“How do I look?” asked Harry as he absentmindedly tried to fix his hair with his hands, knowing
very well that it would do no good.

“For the thousandth time Harry,” replied Ron with a half annoyed, half grin on his face, “you
look fine.” Harry ignored his response and continued to tend to himself.

Deciding to go with a conservative look, Harry decided to wear black jeans and a sky blue
flannel with an undershirt. He felt comfortable with what he was wearing; the only problem was his
hair was not very suitable and he had been looking in a mirror and tending to it for the last 10
minutes.

“Just leave it mate,” Ron said exasperatedly from behind. “It’s only Hermione.”

That’s easy for you to say, thought Harry. To *you* she only Hermione. To *me* she’s
something so much greater. “I guess you’re right,” sighed Harry, finally submitting to Ron.

“Relax Harry. Take a deep breath,” suggested Ron, noticing the way Harry’s body tensed up at
random moments.

“I can’t help it!” exclaimed Harry. “It’s just… it’s been awhile since I’ve taken her out. I’m
afraid that I’m going to do something wrong.”

“That’s why you need to relax Harry,” explained Ron. “You won’t do anything wrong if you’re calm
and relaxed. I swear, it’s like you’re getting married or something.” A mental image wandered into
Harry’s head and he couldn’t help but blush a little at Ron’s remark. “So where are you taking
her?” asked Ron, trying his best to lighten the mood a little.

Harry shrugged. “I have no idea yet. But I can guarantee it’s going to be somewhere in
Hogsmeade.”

“You better get going,” said Ron, motioning toward the door. “You don’t want to keep Hermione
waiting.”

“Right,” replied Harry as he held his arms out to the side. “How do I look?”

“Button the bottom two on the shirt,” commented Ron. “It looks to rugged.”

***

Harry paced patiently back and forth in the Gryffindor common room waiting nervously for
Hermione. She was taking a lot long than he was anticipating. A few moments later, Harry heard
footsteps coming down the stairs. He immediately looked up.

“Hi Harry,” said Hermione as she carefully walked down the steps. “Sorry I’m late.”

At he way Hermione looked, Harry would care less if she was a few minutes late or a few hours
late. She wore a white turtleneck sweater and a knee-high denim skirt with a slit in the bottom
center. Her bushy hair cascaded over her shoulders and bounced a bit as she walked. To someone
else, she was very conservative looking. To Harry, she was the most beautiful thing in the
world.

“Hey Hermione,” said Harry, still amazed with how she looked. It had been way to long since he
took her out and she dressed like that. She approached him and was within arms length. There was an
awkward silence.

“So are we going somewhere or are we going to stand here for a couple of hours?” humored
Hermione.

Harry shook his head to get out of the trance Hermione had unknowingly put on him.

“Sorry,” he apologized as he massaged his temples. “I’m not thinking straight today for some
reason,” explained Harry, though he knew exactly why.

“You look very handsome,” complemented Hermione. Harry felt the heat go straight to his face as
his heart skipped a beat at the comment; he wasn’t expecting it at all.

“You… look beautiful,” said Harry, in the most casual voice he could muster.

“Thanks,” said Hermione, as the smile that Harry loved so much appeared on her face. It seemed
to make her presence feel even better.

“Let’s go then,” said Harry, extending an arm out to Hermione. When she took it, Harry led her
out of the common room and through the portrait hole.

“Where are we going?” she asked with the same grin on her face.

“Well considering that we are limited to time and how far we can travel… I’ll give you one
guess,” said Harry in a playful and obvious voice.

“Hogsmeade!?” asked Hermione, looking hopeful.

“How on Earth did you figure that out Hermione?” Harry said sarcastically.

“I’m just a great guesser,” she explained with a smile.

***

The sun was setting just below the horizon as Harry and Hermione walked casually down the alleys
of Hogsmeade. Surprisingly, Hermione had a firm grip on Harry’s arm the whole time and tried to
walk as close to him as possible. She was probably doing that to feel secure and protected. Harry
couldn’t blame her; this was about the time when all the “weirdo’s” started to come out. Of course,
Harry didn’t mind the closeness of Hermione. If some “weirdo” did harass Hermione, they would have
to answer to Harry first.

The sun setting below the horizon gave the sky a glowing orange color, which for some reason,
seemed to outline Hermione specifically and made her even more beautiful than ever. Harry couldn’t
help but stare at her as they walked. If Hermione noticed, he didn’t care - until she really
*did* notice. She stopped suddenly and turned to face him.

“What?” asked Hermione self-consciously, when she *did* notice Harry staring.

“Oh!” said Harry, a small and stupid grin appearing on his face when he realized that he was
staring a little *too* long.

“Do I have something in my hair?” she asked, combing it with her fingers. Harry sighed with
relief. She did notice him staring, but not for the reason that he thought.

“No, no,” replied Harry, “I was… I was just uh…”

“What?”

“Never mind,” smiled Harry as he shook his head. Hermione returned his smile and tucked a lock
of hair behind her ear. Harry could have died on the spot.

Hermione’s smile was quickly replaced with a look of astonishment. There was something behind
Harry that really had her interest now. Her gaze started at eye level and slowly went higher and
higher.

“What?” asked Harry, a little afraid to see what was behind him. The last time someone had
looked that high was when he fought a mountain troll. Hermione didn’t answer, apparently still
astounded with what she was still looking at. At the count of three, Harry wheeled around and the
same expression he saw on Hermione’s face was duplicated on his.

**A/N: Sorry so long for the update!!! It’s just that I’ve been really busy lately and I really
need to pass my senior year! I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t walk… Anyway, I hope you enjoyed
this chapter, even though its really a short one.**

**I have some news though! I think many of you may know my story “Love, Lust, and Trust”.
Apparently, someone e-mailed me and said that he had saved the entire story, including the “Mature”
chapter. If he sends it to me, I will be able to repost it and finish it!!!**



4. The Date
-----------

**Chapter 4 - The Date**

Before Harry turned around, he expected to see something big, massive, and unusual. He got
exactly what he asked for.

He and Hermione stared at what looked to be a very large castle made out of dark red bricks. The
profile of the castle was lit with plenty of torches, making look a bit mysterious yet cheerful. It
had about a hundred windows in random places and looked about a hundred years old. It was so
eye-popping that there was no way that the two of them (or any student attending Hogwarts for that
matter) had been going to Hogsmeade all these years and not notice it.

“What…is it Harry?” squealed Hermione from behind him, still holding firmly onto his arm as if
the building would suddenly grow teeth and gobble them up.

Harry didn’t answer. He just shook his head slowly from side to side, his mouth opening and
closing wordlessly. They both stood there for what seemed like hours, until a lady wearing a
collared shirt with a black tie and a matching dress skirt approached them.

“Excuse me?” she said in a polite manner. “Are you two interested in going in?” She was
motioning toward the gigantic castle. It took a moment for Harry to answer before she repeated
herself.

“I’m sorry, what?” replied Harry as he broke out of the gazing trance, turning a bit pink for
not noticing her sooner.

“Are you two interested in it?” the lady asked again with a friendly smile.

“What is… IT?” asked Hermione from behind Harry, her eyes still locked on the mammoth
building.

“It’s Merlin & Merlina’s Wiztaurant,” she said with formality. Harry and Hermione’s head
shot directly at her when her answer came.

“What!?” they both replied incredulously at the same time.

“We’re a traveling restaurant,” the lady explained. “A magical restaurant. We’re just like any
ordinary one… only we’re not.” She said this as if she made total sense.

“I’m sorry…” started Harry, then quickly seeing her nametag, “…Ami. But I’m afraid we haven’t
heard of this restaurant before.”

“Well, I don’t blame you,” said Ami sadly. “We’ve never traveled to this part of the world
before. I wonder why no ones ever invited us sooner?” Harry didn’t say anything. He was busy trying
to see what it would be like for a castle about the size of a very large sky scraper to travel
around the world.

“It looks kind of nice Harry,” said Hermione with a little more interest. “Why don’t we check it
out?”

“See! ! I guarantee you two will enjoy yourselves here. Your girlfriend knows what she’s talking
about!” Amy exclaimed. As much as he wanted Hermione to be, Ami’s assumption wasn’t true. Harry
turned a shade of scarlet. Luckily Hermione was behind him, otherwise she would’ve seen for
sure.

“But she’s not my girl…”

“Nonsense!” Ami interrupted, as she grabbed Harry by the arm and started to drag him through the
grand doors. “Come on.”

Harry gave a quick “help me” glance to Hermione before he was literally dragged into the dark
doorway. He was still holding on to Hermione, so she was dragged along as well.

***

Although Harry and Hermione were being dragged against their will through the narrow walkways by
a lady they had only met moments ago, Harry did get a chance to notice the surprising atmosphere.
As dark, gloomy, old, and mysterious it looked on the outside, it was bright, cheerful, and
brand-new looking in the inside. It represented a very fine and expensive ballroom. The carpet was
a fine red and felt sort of springy under his feet. As he was being led through the walkways in one
direction, then suddenly in another, Harry glanced back at Hermione to check up on her. Though she
looked breathless and a bit flustered, she smiled, the way that made Harry lose his breath, to him.
He couldn’t help but smile back, but it was quickly removed from his face as he felt Ami jerk on
his arm in again another direction.

Harry noticed that it got a bit darker the more they continued to walk. At the beginning,
certain areas were lit my an unknown light source, then it was starting to be lit my a dim
candlelight. A *romantic* candlelight .

“Come on, this way,” said Ami, as if Harry and Hermione had a choice of whether or not to follow
her. She glanced back at Harry for a moment. “Don’t worry,” she said, in a comforting sort of way
with another friendly smile, “I know just what it feels like to be on a first date. You don’t have
to be afraid.” Harry once again turned a shade of red, once again lucky enough not to have Hermione
see him. It was no use answering to Ami, she wouldn’t listen to him anyway.

***

Finally, Harry and Hermione had gotten seated in the “deepest part” of the restaurant as Ami had
called it. It was lit by two dim candles on the table that Ami had them seated at. Their table was
quite small, but Harry was amazed at how much delicious food, which Hogwarts had never served,
started to appear on the table.

The two of them ate to their hearts desire as they talked about various subjects, ranging from
school assignments to Quidditch teams. No sooner when they were seated and served, their half empty
plates were wiped clean and dessert started to appear on the table (the table somehow knew when
they were done).

Has Harry ate his hot fudge sundae and Hermione her banana split, the conversation went from
Potions classes to Ron’s enigmatic infatuation with his girlfriend, Rachel.

“How long have they been going out?” asked Hermione, before putting a spoonful of ice cream in
her mouth. That sight alone made Harry swallow and catch his breath.

“I… uh… since last year,” stuttered Harry, unable to speak clearly. Hermione somehow took
notice.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, licking her top lip to get a bit of whipped cream. “You’re not
choking over there I hope.” Harry closed his eyes and shook his head subtly.

“Oh no,” said Harry, trying really hard to lock the image of Hermione licking her lip into his
brain.

“Good,” answered Hermione with a grin, “I don’t want to have to do the Heimlich maneuver.”

I wouldn’t mind though, thought Harry.

“I guess Rachel has been the longest right?” asked Hermione, going back to eating her banana
split.

“Yep,” said Harry, taking a sip of his water to hopefully clear his mind. Watching Hermione eat
dessert never affected him like this before.

“It broke the record of…”

“2 weeks,” finished Harry. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

“Was that the longest one before?” she asked.

“Yeah,” nodded Harry, “she must be something really special.” There was a long and awkward
silence before Hermione spoke.

“I just wanted to thank you Harry,” she said, not making eye contact with him.

“For what?” asked Harry, looking up at her expecting to find eyes but instead finding the top of
a head.

“For being a great friend,” said Hermione, now twirling around her ice cream with her spoon.
“For taking me out tonight and all those other nights. For… everything. You’ve been really sweet to
me you know…” She suddenly looked up at him when she trailed her last sentence, instantly locking
her eyes with his.

Harry had to blink before he could tell that his brain was still functioning. He found himself
getting completely lost in her eyes for the first time. Sure, he had stared into Hermione’s eyes
before (luckily she really didn’t notice) but this time it felt… different.

The dimly lit room caused her eyes to dilate, which made her eyes stand out and her face light
up more than ever. Add to the fact the room was lit by candlelight. It surrounded Hermione like an
aurora, which made her look even more beautiful than ever. Harry had to fight strong urges in order
to prevent himself from losing his composure, taking Hermione and putting her against the wall, and
doing things to her that’ll definitely make people gasp of shock, get him kicked out of the
restaurant, and probably get a life sentence in Azkaban for “excessive public display of
affection”.

“It’s no problem Hermione,” said Harry in the most natural voice he could. “I just have fun with
being with you that’s all. And I love being your friend.”

“You’re the best Harry,” Hermione smiled, making the latter shift in his seat.

“Besides,” added Harry, trying to not make such a big deal about his dates with her, even though
it made a *huge* deal, “It’s not like you haven’t been on a date right?” Hermione made a
noise, which sounded like half a sigh of infatuation, with half a sigh of exasperation.

“Viktor Krum…” she said, looking down at her bowl. “He was my first *real* date…”

“The Yule Ball,” commented Harry. “You looked so beautiful that day.” And it was true. Fourth
year at the Yule Ball was the *first* time Harry saw Hermione as… well… a girl; and a very
pretty one at that.

“I was so happy that day…” said Hermione, but her sentence didn’t sound too convincing.

“Why do you sound so… disappointed then?” asked Harry.

“I was happy… and yes, disappointed at the same time…”

“Why?” asked Harry, looking sideways her. Hermione sighed before looking up at him and sitting
up straight.

“Well I was indeed flattered that the famous Quidditch Bulgarian Seeker asked me to the ball…”
started Hermione.

“But…?” asked Harry before Hermione could say it.

“Well… as great as that may have been,” said Hermione, “I was surprised and a bit disappointed
that…” she paused. She seemed like she didn’t want to finish her sentence.

“What?”

“…that you or Ron hadn’t asked me to the Ball instead.”

Harry didn’t answer, or rather, he couldn’t answer. He was so sorry, yet so touched by what
Hermione had said. At the time, he was being so selfish and trying so hard to get Cho to go with
him that he didn’t realize that Hermione, one of his best friends, was waiting there the whole time
for either Ron or him to ask her and she would’ve happily said yes. To make things worse, Harry
didn’t even get to go with Cho anyway and instead found a last minute date with Parvati Patil . He
admitted to himself that he would rather have gone with Hermione instead of Parvati any day. His
voice had suddenly malfunctioned.

“I was sort of anticipating it,” explained Hermione, “and waiting for it, but it never came. I
guess I was just being selfish. I was even planning on not going at all… then Viktor asked me… and
I couldn’t say no.”

Harry continued to stare at Hermione; his mouth agape.

“I might have felt something with Viktor,” admitted Hermione. “But, I think it was just the
attention I was getting that made it seem that way.” She involuntary dropped her head sadly.

“Hermione…” said Harry, reaching over the table and putting his hands on one of her own. “I had
no idea…”

“That I thought about such things?” answered Hermione. “I know Harry. Your not the only one to
say that.”

“I *didn’t* say that,” said Harry gently. “What I’m saying is that I had no idea how much
that meant to you and I apologize for being such a prat.”

“Don’t apologize Harry,” said Hermione with her head still down. “There’s no one who cares about
me that way anyway.”

“Of course there is,” Harry replied. “One of them is holding your hand.”

Hermione’s hand shot up and immediately their eyes met once again. Those deep brown eyes
Hermione had had a tremendous affect on him. Harry couldn’t help but gulp when it happened; he
hoped that she didn’t sense how nervous he was. Hermione’s eyes slipped away from Harry’s and went
to their joined hands on the table. A smile came from Hermione, followed by a struggled laugh.

“See?” said Harry, smiling along with her.

The hand of Hermione’s that wasn’t being held covered her mouth in a joyful way. Though Harry
couldn’t see it, he knew she was covering a grin. A single tear of delight fell down Hermione’s
face.

“I guess I was being selfish too,” confessed Harry. “I was so content in getting Cho Chang for
my date that I failed to see the more beautiful and better date that was right under my nose: you,
Hermione.”

“Oh Harry!” exclaimed Hermione, so loudly that other guest started to look. What she did next
was surreal and unexpected: she stood up abruptly , walked around the table, and gave Harry a hug
when he was still sitting down. Feeling a bit awkward at the unorthodox hug, Harry stood up with
Hermione to match the hug.

“Oh Harry, thank you so much,” cried Hermione into his shoulder.

“It’s ok Hermione,” Harry comforted, rubbing his hand up and down her back. He was certain
people were looking, but he didn’t care. What he cared about was that he had just helped one of his
best friends through conversation. What he cared about was that he was holding the girl he loved in
his arms. What he cared about was he felt so comfortable and right doing it.



5. The Shop
-----------

**Chapter 5 - The Shop**

After the talk that Harry and Hermione had (though neither of them meant it to be) became very
awkward for the both of them. Hermione was no longer holding on to Harry’s arm and Harry tried to
stay as far away as possible, but still keep her within a safe range as they walked down
alleys.

Neither of them spoke of why they were walking down alleys, but Harry said to himself that it
was a way to settle down the tension that had builded between them at dinner. Harry slapped himself
mentally had hard as he could. If he didn’t come to his senses at the last minute, he could have
sworn he would have kissed her right then and there.

*“Wait a minute?”* came a voice in his head as he absentmindedly looked at shops while
keeping a close distance on Hermione. *“Don’t you want her to know that you like her? By kissing
her, you could’ve easily gave it away there! She was so vulnerable, it would’ve worked!”*

*“But that’s not the point,”* said another voice. *“It wouldn’t have been right going
about it like that.”* At that moment, Hermione tugged him on his shirt; this caused him to come
back to reality and the voices disappeared.

“Oh Harry look at that!” she exclaimed, looking at something to her right. Harry turned to look
and felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

“A bookstore?” Harry chuckled. “Yes I’ve seen one before,” he joked.

“No Harry!” said Hermione, hitting him on his arm. “I meant that I would like to go and look
around in it.”

“Okay,” replied Harry, but he was distracted to the store that was on the right of it. The store
was called “Lynda’s Wizard Anythings”. It wasn’t the store simply being a thrift shop that caught
his eye, it was the sign next to the door that did. It read: *Find amazing gifts here. Guaranteed
to impress anyone!*

Looks like I can find Hermione an early gift for Christmas, Harry thought happily.

“You go on ahead with the bookstore,” persuaded Harry, “I want to look in that one over there.”
He motioned toward the other store.

“Ok,” sighed Hermione, “but I don’t want to stay long.”

“I won’t be long,” confirmed Harry, “Besides, it’s getting lat and we should be headed back
soon. We’ll meet right back over here in 10 minutes ok?”

Hermione nodded and made her way in the semi-deserted bookstore while Harry made his way to the
small shop. In the window were two manikins, one wearing a fine red elegant dress and the other had
nothing on.

Maybe someone bought whatever was on it, laughed Harry in his head as he thought that one
dressed manikin and a naked one didn’t really look very pleasing to the eye. It was no wonder it
was a thrift store. The moment Harry had stepped through the door, his jaw dropped to the
floor.

The store didn’t look that big from the outside, but the inside as about as big as the Great
Hall back at school, only that miscellaneous items were scattered everywhere, some were in huge
piles in corners, things were out of order, and a mess. It was a miracle if anyone could walk in
there without stepping on something and breaking it.

“How do people find things in this place?” asked Harry out loud.

“They come to me,” said an acute female voice in front of him. Harry’s head shot up and came
face to face with an older girl that looked a lot like Ami from the Restaurant he and Hermione had
eaten at. The only thing was that she looked… prettier for some reason than Ami was.

“Ami?” questioned Harry as he squinted his eyes and made his way to the counter she was
behind.

“Oh!” said the woman, turning a shade of pink. “You must have met my sister. She and I are
twins.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile at the statement. This would be the second set of twins he ever
met in his life.

“I’m Ashley”

“And I’m Harry,” he said as he carefully made his way over to her. “I was going to guess that
you were Lynda,” he added right when he had succeeded in stepping over any items in his path and
finding coming to a rest at the counter.

“Harry? Surely you don’t mean Harry Pott… Bless my soul! You are Harry Potter!” Ashley exclaimed
after successfully spotting the scar on his forehead. Harry didn’t say anything. He was too used to
this sort of thing.

“I’m sorry,” Ashley said as she caught up with her breath and returned to normal. “Where were
we…ah yes… Lynda was our grandmother,” she confirmed, “she ran this shop for decades… until she
passed away.”

“I’m sorry,” was the automatic reply from Harry.

“Don’t be,” replied Ashley. “Now what can I do for you?”

“Well I saw your sign outside and I was wondering…”

“Oh wait a minute,” Ashley interrupted. “I’m sorry but were all sold out of gifts.”

“Sold out!?” cried Harry incredulously. “I nearly stepped on half a million things in here, and
you tell me that your sold out of stuffs!?”

Ashley shot a hand to her mouth to hid her giggling.

“What’s so funny?” asked Harry, feeling very impatient.

“I’m sorry,” apologized Ashley as she tried to stifle her giggles. “Let me explain. First, I
should have taken that sign down days ago, so that’s my fault. Second, the reason why we call it
“amazing gifts” is because we get things way in advance than the other shops do. Just imagine,
getting something that no one else in the world has really is an amazing gift. Don’t you
agree?”

“I suppose,” said Harry, feeling a bit embarrassed at yelling like that and rubbing the back of
his head. “So what are all of these then?” he said, motioning to all the junk on the floor.

“These are all second hand stuff,” explained Ashley. “Usually people don’t buy these things.
That’s why there’s so much of it. People usually come here to buy the unreleased stuff.”

“How come I never heard of this place if it’s so popular?”

“I don’t know,” shrugged Ashley. “Maybe it’s because people want to keep this place to
themselves when buying all the goods we receive.”

Harry nodded. All in all, the place really did seem like a nice store; it just needed a good
make-over and a janitor who was willing to do such an excruciating job.

“If you don’t mind me prying, how do you get all the things in advance?” asked Harry in a
whisper as if someone else would hear.

“My grandmother knew big people in high places,” said Ashley mysteriously. “That’s all I’m
allowed to say.”

There was a long silence as Harry casually looked in the room from wall to wall. There was no
way he was going to find anything in here that was good enough to impress Hermione, other than the
fact that the place was messier and more disorganized than Ron was.

“I guess there’s nothing in here that can impress a girl then huh?” said Harry as he gave up
trying to look at the heap of stuff al over the floor.

“A girl?” questioned Ashley, her eyebrows furrowing at what Harry had just said. Her eyes seemed
to light up too. “If you don’t mind, tell me about this girl. Maybe I could help you find something
for her.”

“I wish I could,” Harry said dreamily. “She’s… absolutely one of a kind. I don’t think I could
describe her if I wanted to. I mean, Hermione’s just… Hermione.”

“Hermione huh? That’s a pretty name,” smiled Ashley. “She must be some girl if the famous Harry
Potter wants to impress her.”

“I’ve liked her for so long already,” continued Harry, as if he hadn’t heard a word Ashley said.
“I just which there was something I could give her that’ll really impress her.”

“How about jewelry?” suggested Ashley.

“Tried that already. That really didn’t seem to do anything. Besides, it’s not ‘Hermione’.”

“How about clothes?”

“No. It’s not… ‘Hermione’.”

Ashley did as best as she could in suggesting just about anything that a “normal” girl would
like: clothes, jewelry, makeup, gift certificates for shopping, etc; still, Harry always gave the
same answer…

“No. It’s still not… ‘Hermione’.”

“Well I don’t know then,” gave up Ashley. “Seems like you *really* need to work to impress
this girl. I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

“It’s ok,” said Harry, feeling a bit disappointed, “but I really appreciate your help.”
Suddenly, a look of revelation flashed across Ashley’s face.

“I just remembered!” she yelled, slamming her hands down on the counter. “We got a new
unreleased item this morning!” She looked so excited that Harry started to feel afraid.

“I can’t believe that I forgot…! Oh…” Her face suddenly fell.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“Forget what I just said,” she stated sadly.

“Why?”

“Well unless your friend likes to read, I’m afraid that I can’t help you,” Ashley explained
sadly.

Harry’s facial expression went from hopeful, to excited, to worried, to disappointed, to
ecstatic all in the course of their conversation.

“Huh? Books?” was all Harry could say because he was so dumb-founded.

“Yeah,” continued Ashley, “I got *Hogwart’s: A Revised History Volumes I-IV.”*

Harry’s eyes lit up even more than they already were.

“You’re kidding, right Ashley?” asked Harry, his tone in a sort of dead manner, still in awe of
what Ashley said she had.

“Yeah,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him and feeling slightly afraid now. “Why?”

“I’ll take it!” Harry shouted literally at the top of his lungs in a light-hearted manner.
Ashley practically had to shield herself from him.

“What?” was all that Ashley could say.

“You’re a life saver!” exclaimed Harry as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

“Oh my gosh,” said Ashley. That was about all she could say, considering that she was having a
had time breathing. When Harry finally released her and Ashley could breath correctly again, she
spoke.

“I don’t get it,” she pondered. “Why are you so excited over those books?”

“Oh *you* don’t know Hermione,” Harry tried to explain. “Books to Hermione is like…
Quidditch is to me.”

“Ohh,” nodded Ashley, indicating that she got it. “You play Quidditch?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m guessing Seeker?”

“You’re right, but how…”

“My father loved the game too,” explained Ashley. “He was a Chaser, just like my grandfather,
and his dad before that.”

“Oh, so you know the perks to the game?” asked Harry interestedly.

“More than you think,” smiled Ashley. There were a few exchanged laughs.

“So… Herm-me-own-knee likes to read does she?”

“It’s Her-my-oh-knee,” corrected Harry. “And yes she *loves* to read. That’s why I’m so
excited about the books. If I get her that, it’s guaranteed to impress her.”

“Well I sure was wrong,” admitted Ashley as she went in the back to get the books.

***

The size of the 4 books that Ashley brought back were enormous; it looked like Ashley ran around
Hogwart’s grounds for hours nonstop when she finally put then down on the counter with a loud thud.
All the books were bounded in dark blue leather with gold calligraphy written across the covers:
*Hogwarts: A Revised History Vol. 1* and so on.

After Harry paid her for the books and told her what situation he was in, Ashley helped him
shrink the books with a shrinking charm so that he could hide it safely in his pocket.

After a final thank you, a firm hug, a good luck, and a final wave, Harry made his way outside
of the shop and walked over to the bookstore where Hermione had gone in. He waited a few minutes
before she came out; Harry greeted her with a wave.

“Well how was it?” asked Harry, trying as hard as he could not to look excited.

“It was great!” Hermione exclaimed, literally jumping up and down.

“Whoa! Calm down,” said Harry as he tried to settle her. “What was it that was so great?”

“Well I just found out that they’re going to release *Hogwarts: A Revised History Vol.
I-IV* late in the school year!”

“Really?” said Harry. He could help but smile just a little.

“Yes, really Harry! I wanted to reserve the set for myself, but they weren’t taking any more
reservations. I guess I’ll just have to wait until it comes out in the shops,” Hermione said with
hopefulness in her voice. “*But late in the school year!?* That’s too long of a wait for
me!”

“Oh I’m sure you’ll manage,” Harry grinned at her. “Good things come to those who wait
right?”

“I guess you’re right,” said Hermione. “But I’m just so excited!”

It was great to know that he had something that was indeed going to impress her and probably
even more than that. Harry couldn’t help but smile back at her; hopefully she didn’t see how
excited he was too.



6. The Announcement
-------------------

**Chapter 6 - The Announcement**

The next few days were sort of blissful for Harry. He had taken Hermione out again in a long
time and he had already had a gift for her for Christmas was in advanced. Harry was more excited
about the gift than anything; he didn’t really notice the big goofy grin on his face that appeared
much to often.

“What’s with you?” asked Ron one time when they were in Divination class one day.

“I don’t know,” replied Harry with the same stupid smile on his face. “For some reason, I’m just
happy today that’s all.”

Ron gave him a perplexed look. “You’ve said that for the past few days already Harry and you‘re
never *this* happy in Divination,” he replied irritated. “Never mind, I give up already.”

If the anticipating gift didn’t delight Harry, there was something else that was: an
announcement Professor Dumbledore was going to make at dinner one day.

“May I have your attention please,” he said over the conversations that were going on at the
house tables. The noise gradually diminished to silence. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up at him
with great interest; it was rare for Dumbledore to interrupt in the middle of dinner.

“As all of you may know, the Christmas holidays are coming up,” said Dumbledore as his eyes
moved through the Great Hall. “The professors and I have met and we all have agreed to have a
Christmas Ball and other Balls to follow.”

Immediately there were shrieks from girls and groans from boys throughout the Hall. Harry,
however, was one of the little few guys that were excited. This would be another chance to ask
Hermione to be my date, he thought.

“However,” continued Dumbledore, his voice a bit louder to overcome the students’ soft
conversations, “there will be something special about all these Balls. It will be of semi-formal or
formal and if you are allowed to attend with or without a date.”

Many puzzled faces filled the Hall with the occasional “huh?” from students.

“For this,” Dumbledore resumed, “I will be using a choosing Goblet much like the one used in the
year when Hogwarts hosted the Tri-Wizard Tournament.”

With a wave of his wand, a golden goblet with blue flames coming from appeared in front of him
in a patch of white smoke that startled some students who were sitting close to the Head table. A
small piece of parchment flew from it and Dumbledore snatched it.

“The dress attire for this dance will be… formal attire,” he announced.

There were half groans and half cheers from the Hall just as another piece of parchment flew
from the goblet; Dumbledore snatched that one too.

“For this dance, partners are… (there was a small smile and a twinkle in his eye) required.”

“Required!?” someone said from the Ravenclaw table.

“Yes required. If any student do not make these requirements, then he or she is not allowed to
attend,” explained Dumbledore in a final sort of way. There more a lot more groans of
disappointment in the Hall than ever before.

***

The Hall was filled with a lot more noise of conversation after Dumbledore’s announcement.

“Can you believe a Christmas Ball is coming up?” said Ron from across the table to Harry. “This
is great!”

Harry did nothing more than nod reassuringly to Ron.

“So who are you going to take Harry?” Ron asked as he helped himself to some dessert.

Harry didn’t say anything. He turned to his right at Hermione who was sitting next to him. She
was reading a book and occasionally taking small bites off of her plate when she had to turn a
page. She didn’t look at all interested about the Ball as everyone else. Harry turned back toward
Ron.

“I have an idea who to ask,” he replied in an obvious tone.

Ron knew the routine. If the word “date” was in a sentence, “Harry” and/or “Hermione” would
follow after. It was quite strange really; though Harry had taken Hermione out on many different
occasions, Ron never hinted or implied that Harry might have some sort of crush on her.

***

After dinner, the Hall cleared a lot quicker than usual, probably the anticipation of the Ball.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were one of the last ones to leave the Hall. They stood about 10 feet from
the doors. Ron, however, seemed to have plans of his own.

“I need to find Rachel,” he grinned while rubbing his hands together. “We need to plan on what
we’re going to wear for the Ball. I’ll see you two around?”

“Sure Ron,” answered Harry. “And try not to *over* do it this time?”

“Oh I won’t,” Ron shouted as he ran for the Hall’s doors. “And good luck with your plans!” he
said right as he disappeared around the corner.

“Ron,” Hermione said shaking her head. “He will always be… Ron.”

“Tell me about it,” said Harry as he looked down at her. She was still reading that book that he
had seen her with earlier.

“So what plans was Ron talking about Harry?” Hermione questioned, finally shutting the book and
giving all the attention to him.

“Don’t know,” Harry shrugged, trying as hard as he could to hide a smile. Luckily, Hermione
didn’t notice.

“I see you’re not at all eager about the Christmas Ball,” said Harry.

“When am I ever Harry?”

“Well you seemed pretty excited in 4th year,” mentioned Harry.

“That’s because I had something to look forward to!” explained Hermione. “Besides you, Viktor
was the only other person that ever asked me out.”

“Really?” Harry asked a bit perplexed. “Krum and I are the only ones that ever asked you
out?”

Hermione nodded sadly while she clutched the book she was reading to her chest. “I guess that
I’m not a very social person,” she answered with dignity in her voice. “So who are you going to ask
to the Ball?”

“I have an idea,” smiled Harry.

“Oh who is it!?”

“Rather not say,” Harry responded. “Not right now anyway.”

There was a long silence between them. Harry wisely used this time to think about how he was
going to ask Hermione to the Ball. Though it was still kind of far away, he figured that the
earlier, the better; just like how he already had her gift ready to go.

“Look Hermione,” started Harry. “There’s something that I want to ask you.”

He had her undivided attention.

“I -”

*“Hermione, Hermione!”* a voice yelled and interrupted behind her. It belonged to Ernie
MacMillian, a Hufflepuff 7th year. She automatically turned around just as the boy stopped next to
her; he was slouched over and his hands were on his knees to catch his breath.

“Ernie,” said Harry, looking down at him. “Are you ok? You look like you ran for your life.”

“I’m… fine Harry, thanks,” he puffed. He turned his attention toward Hermione. “I had… to find
you… Hermione… before my chance went by.”

“Why?” she asked. “What chance?”

“My chance… to ask you… to the Christmas Ball,” he said in about three breaths.

Hermione mouth dropped open just about the same time that Harry‘s did; though they dropped for
two different reasons. Ernie took a few more breaths, redid his posture, and tried his best to look
formal.

“Hermione, may I have the honor of taking you to the Christmas Ball?”

If Harry had no self control, he would have said some things along the lines of: “She’s not
going with you because she’s going with me.” Then he realized that he hadn’t even asked her yet.
Harry’s heart fell.

“I… I…” stammered Hermione, though she did look a lot more flattered than Harry thought she
would. “I would love to go with you!” she smiled.

Ernie returned with the same grin. “That’s great!” he smiled. “It’s a date then. I’ll see you
around Hermione. See you later Harry.”

“See you Ernie,” said Harry with a bit more scorn than he intended; thankfully, no one
noticed.

“He’s in your Arithmancy Class isn’t he?” Harry asked just as Ernie disappeared out the
door.

“He is,” sighed Hermione. “He always asks me for help in that class and sometimes we even study
together.”

Harry looked down at her questioningly. He didn’t know if she was implying that she had a crush
on him or not.

“It’s funny though,” Hermione giggled. “Sometimes I explain something to him at least a thousand
times before he gets it!”

Harry laughed too. More to himself for being stupid and idiotic than anything.

“So what were you going to ask me Harry?” she asked, once again giving him all her
attention.

“Well, I…” stammered Harry, turning a shade of pink. He was just going to ask Hermione to the
Ball literally seconds before Ernie, but Ernie had beat him to it! Obviously, he had the same plan
as Harry did.

“What is it?” Hermione asked, her eyes full of concern.

“It’s nothing,” Harry replied sadly after a long sigh. “It’s not important.”

“Are you sure?” she inquired. “Because we can talk about it.”

Harry forced a small laugh and shook his head. “It’s ok,” Harry assured.

Hermione looked back at him. The look on her face plainly showed that she knew something
*was* wrong, but decided not to push it anymore. She tried to lighten the mood.

“So about that girl you were going to ask,” she said as the both of them headed out the Hall and
to their private Head Boy and Head Girl dormitories.

“What about her?”

“Maybe you’ll impress her,” she said hopefully, “if you should ask her as soon as possible, much
like how Ernie impressed me by asking me so early.”

“Yeah I should’ve,” Harry replied desolately, not realizing what he had just said.

“What?”

“I should,” Harry corrected, blushing just a bit and mentally punching himself.

***

As Harry and Hermione entered the portrait of the Fat Lady, they did their usual routine: Harry
walked her over to her private dorm, just like he always did. After saying goodnight, Hermione shut
the door quietly and Harry walked over to his dorm, located directly across from hers.

Harry slumped on his bed with a thud after shutting the door behind him; he didn’t even bother
to change.

“This really sucks,” said Harry to himself. “I missed my *chance* in just seconds.” He
laughed at how all the timing was off.

It looks like I have a few decisions to make, he thought to himself, just as his eyes closed due
to frustration. Without realizing it, he drifted away into a deep sleep, dwelling on when Ernie had
asked Hermione to the Ball and how if he was seconds earlier, it would be *him* going to the
Ball with her.



7. Rumors
---------

**Chapter 7 - Rumors**

Harry tried to get by the next few weeks without seeming so down in the dumps; but with the
thought of Ernie going to the Ball with Hermione, it was very hard to do. Sometimes, Harry couldn’t
control the facial expressions he had on; sometimes they would be as blank as a piece of parchment,
other times it would be as vivid as a raging bull. There were, however, some small things that
Harry noticed.

A lot of eyes would stare at him whenever he would walk the halls alone. Though he had gotten
used to the eyes following him over the past few years, there was something different about the way
he was getting looked at and how some of the students were acting.

There was one time when Harry was about to walk into the Great Hall for lunch, but the entrance
was blocked by two 3rd years who were chatting away about something.

“Excuse me,” said Harry politely so that they could move out of the way. One of the boys that
were talking took one look at Harry and his eyes widened with fear.

“Oh I’m so sorry Harry!” he exclaimed, holding his hands up near his face. “I didn’t mean to be
blocking your way! I was just…”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Harry interrupted, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder to calm him. This
made the boy flinch slightly and shut his eyes tightly. Harry laughed through his nose at the
reaction. “It’s ok. Just make a little room so that I can pass, that’s all.”

“Ok,” the 3rd year whimpered and moved to the side quickly. The other 3rd year that the boy had
been talking to was silent the whole time and literally shaking on the spot, as if Harry might beat
him up or something if he even breathed.

If that was a weird encounter for him, the moment he stepped in the Great Hall was even
better.

He had taken no more than 3 steps when, as if on cue, every single head in the Hall turned
toward him and the Hall fell into a complete silence. Harry’s eyes moved inquisitively from one end
of the Hall to the other. Some students were looking at him with a blank stare. Some were shaking
more or less than the boy that was blocking the doorway. One girl looked so terrified that she was
crying silently to herself; the girl sitting next to her tried to calm her down and it looked like
she was trying to do it without Harry noticing. It would have been hilarious if the mood wasn’t so
serious.

As Harry made his way to the usual spot on Gryffindor table where he, Ron, and Hermione usually
sat. He noticed that they weren’t there yet, which was usual; Hermione, being the punctual person
she always is, was usually there before him and Ron. If Ron was there first, it was because he had
accompanied Rachel down. Not thinking about what could be up with them, (especially Hermione) he
sat himself down and tried to get a head start on his homework. It was difficult though, with all
the eyes of the other students on him as if they were anticipating an explosion or something.

A few moments later, a great white owl swooped into the Hall and landed right next to the book
that Harry was reading, startling him a bit.

“Hedwig!” Harry exclaimed after reacting to her marvelous entrance. “You scared me to death!” He
reached into his bag and put on the necklace that Sirius had given him which allowed him to talk to
Hedwig.

“Sorry Harry,” she apologized in the same hoot they always conversed in. “I’ve been looking all
over for you.”

“For what?” Harry hooted back softly, hoping that no other student was listening. It was one
thing to hoot at your owl once, but to do it several times made it look very suspicious.

“Where’s Ron and Hermione?” asked Hedwig.

“Don’t know,” Harry shrugged. “Haven’t seen them since last night.”

“How was your date with Hermione?” she asked, looking sort of excited and wanting details.

“It was ok,” hooted Harry admittedly. “We ate at this wizard restaurant that travels around the
world.”

“Sounded like fun,” Hedwig hooted as she helped herself to some of Harry’s pumpkin juice.
“Anything *interesting* happen?”

“Not really,” sighed Harry. “But I did find this store afterwards and I already bought Hermione
a gift!”

“How sweet,” sighed Hedwig dreamily. “Is it impressive?”

“Should be to her,” grinned Harry. “I got her Hogwarts: A Revised History Vol. I-IV.”

“Really!?” said Hedwig in a screech so incredulously that students heads turned in the
direction, probably thinking that Harry had committed cruelty to animals.

“Sorry,” she apologized in a lower hoot. “But I think Hermione will love that! In fact, I
believe that it hasn’t even been released yet. Where did you get something like that!? I hope you
didn‘t do anything illegal to get it.”

“My secret,” smiled Harry mischievously. Their conversation had naturally gotten louder, making
other students look and get very suspicious.

“Harry try and keep it down ok?” hooted Hedwig when she noticed all the eyes staring in her
direction. Harry nodded and there was a long and unusual pause as he continued to look at his book.
“Are you ok with all of this?”

That made Harry stop giving all his attention to the book and it went toward Hedwig instead.
“What do you mean?”

“I mean with all the students talking about you and stuff,” replied Hedwig matter-of-factly.

“What the heck are you talking about Hedwig? What are the other students saying about me?” he
boomed, getting a little angry that people were talking behind his back.

“Oh!” exclaimed Hedwig, taken aback. “I thought you knew. But that look on your face says that
you have no idea what I’m talking about. But I think that now is not a good time to…”

“Talk,” Harry commanded.

“Ok ok,” submitted Hedwig, holding out her wings. “Now where do I start…” She took a moment to
think and it looked like she was planning on what she was going to say. Harry sat and waited
patiently.

“Well I listen to what some students talk about,” started Hedwig. “Let’s just say that rumors
are spreading about you that’s all.”

“Like what?”

“Umm…,” Hedwig continued. “You know about how Ernie asked Hermione to the Christmas Ball
right.”

“Unfortunately yes,” Harry answered, his heart twisting just a little at the subtle
reminder.

“Well it spread through the school like a plague.”

“What’s that got to do with me?” Harry asked quizzically.

“Well not directly. But indirectly it does.”

“How?”

Hedwig took a deep breath and started to pace back and forth on the table, trying to think about
how she was going to explain any of this. She stopped right in front of Harry and made herself
comfortable on the table.

“It was a shock to many people when they heard that Ernie had asked Hermione to the ball.”

“Why?” Harry asked quizzically, raising one of his eyebrows. “I know that everyone knows that
I’ve taken Hermione out on a few dates. But big deal! Just because I’ve taken her out often, it
doesn’t mean that I *have* to take her to *everything* that requires a date…”

“It’s not that simple Harry,” Hedwig interrupted. “Yes, it’s evidently true that you and
Hermione have been out a few times, but in the eyes of hormone-crazed adolescence, they see
something else and they assume things.”

“Like *what*?” Harry inquired as he frowned.

“Many students thought that you and Hermione were dating, not because you two were great
friends, but because they thought that you two were boyfriend and girlfriend.” Hedwig elucidated in
a way as if Harry should have known that.

“Oh,” was all Harry could manage after a few moments of absorbing Hedwig’s proclamation.

“I don’t blame them for making such a notion,” she added, fluffing her wings a bit. “I mean,
it’s very obvious Harry.”

“What is?” he wondered. Hedwig could only manage a heartedly owl laugh.

“The way you two act silly,” she smiled. “It’s pretty blatant that the famous and
Quidditch-playing Head Boy, Harry Potter has a romantic affection for the popular and studious Head
Girl, Hermione Granger; not to mention very pretty too.”

“Don’t say that Hedwig,” Harry said as he felt himself go red.

“But,” she continued, ignoring Harry’s request, “as for Hermione’s feelings, I would have to say
that her actions are very ambiguous.”

“Not anymore,” Harry grunted, looking down at his book but not reading the words. “Her going
with MacMillian eradicates any speculation that she could possibly like me.”

“Ernie asked *her,* Harry.”

“So?”

“That doesn’t mean that *she* likes *him*.”

“So? She didn‘t have to say ‘yes’.”

“What was she supposed to say then?” snapped Hedwig, starting to feel impatient. “‘*Sorry
Ernie I can’t go with you because I’m waiting for Harry to ask me?’”* she mocked
incredulously.

“She should’ve,” whispered Harry, hoping that Hedwig didn’t hear.

“Now you’re just being selfish Harry,” she scolded. “Technically, Hermione’s a free-bird; she
can do whatever she wants.”

“I just don’t see how she *can’t* tell that I’m in love with her,” said Harry, more to
himself than Hedwig.

“I just don’t see why *you* don’t just tell her you’re in love with her.”

Harry shut his mouth for a few moments. The question of whether or not Harry was going to admit
his feels for Hermione was always brought up by Hedwig; however, Harry never did answer her
question. It wasn’t because he *didn’t* want to, he just had a hard time answering it for
whatever reason it was.

Harry just stared silently at the table, blinking occasionally, inadvertently making Hedwig feel
sorry for him.

“It’ll be all right Harry,” she cooed, walking over to him and putting her wing gently on his
arm. “I’m sure the Ball with Ernie won’t be such a big deal to Hermione. She‘ll go and have a good
time, then you can sweep her off her feet with that excellent gift you bought her!”

“I hope so,” replied Harry sadly.

“Speaking of which,” said Hedwig, looking to her left. “Here comes Hermione now.” Harry’s head
immediately shot in the direction of Hermione, who was walking toward them, her bushy brown hair
cascading over her shoulders and bouncing slightly with the rhythm of her walk. The simple act of
walking affected Harry so much that he had to swallow; it was surprising at how powerful an effect
she had on him. She had a medium-sized gift box tucked under her arm and she looked very happy to
be carrying it.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Hedwig whispered. Before Harry could answer, she nibbled
affectionately on his finger, spread out her wings, and flew out of The Great Hall as fast as she
had appeared.

“Hi Harry!” Hermione smiled as she sat down next to him and placed the box she was carrying on
the table.

That smile that she had given him was probably the most powerful weapon she had against him; it
was too bad she had no idea about it though. Harry wanted to say something drastic, something to
match up to her smile and to repay her for rewarding him with such a heavenly expression. But all
he could manage was -

“Hi.”

Hermione sat herself down next to him and placed the box she had with her on the side. “Where
have you been?”

“I should be asking that,” smiled Harry as he unknowingly gave her an exquisite look. “But
anyway, I’ve been here the whole time. Luckily, Hedwig was here to keep me company.”

“I could see that,” said Hermione as she looked off in the direction where Hedwig left. “Must be
great to have a pet like her.”

“What’s in the box?” Harry motioned, trying to make conversation.

“Oh! The box… well,” said Hermione uneasily, turning a bit pink as she looked at the box
herself. Harry took her uncomfortableness as a sign.

“Oh! Never mind then,” Harry said embarrassed, holding his hands up in defense. “I can see that
it’s a personal thing.”

“Harry, it’s ok I…”

“No no no,” Harry assured, “it’s none of my business anyway. Just… forget what I said.”

“Harry,” said Hermione, “it’s quite all right. If you want to see…”

“I don’t,” solidified Harry. “Just… never mind.”



8. Disaster
-----------

**Chapter 8 - Disaster**

Hermione sighed as she watched Harry turn his attention toward the book he was reading. He
gulped. It felt a little funny having her just watch him like that.

“Harry I…”

“Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter!” shouted another voice from down the Great Hall. Though the name Harry
was called, he and Hermione turned their heads. A second year Gryffindor girl was running toward
where they were sitting as if she was in desperate need to win a jogging marathon.

“Mr. Potter!” she said again as she came to a dead stop in front of them and put her hands on
her knees to take a much needed breath.

“Whoa, whoa,” Harry said, putting a hand on her shoulder to calm her. He had never seen a young
girl look so frightened before. “And call me Harry.”

“What’s the matter?” interjected Hermione in a comforting voice, putting her hand on the girl’s
other shoulder.

“Oh Ms. Granger!“ the young second year girl screeched in a breath. “It’s terrible!”

“Call me Hermione dear,” she said, trying to calm her as Harry had did. Even though they were
Head Boy and Head Girl, the formal calling of their last names were unnecessary.

“What is it?” soothed Harry, but the girl still had the horrified look on her face.

“It’s… it’s Hedwig Mr. Pott… I mean, Harry,” the girl answered.

Harry flinched as his eyes widened in fear and concern. “What… about Hedwig!?”

“Outside… on the castle grounds… by the main entrance,” was all she could manage just as she
burst into tears.

“Hermione let me handle Hedwig. You…”

But Hermione was already running toward the doors to the Great Hall, in the direction of the
main entrance.

“No, Hermione! I have Hedwig!” Harry shouted just as she turned outside the doors. She obviously
did not hear him. “You forgot your box!”

Harry exhaled deeply, thanked the little girl, grabbed Hermione’s box out of instinct, and
sprinted the path Hermione had taken.

***

It seemed like a long time before Harry had actually went through the front doors and onto the
front lawn. It was no wonder the little girl that told Harry and Hermione something was terrible
was frightened, at least form a little girls eye view anyway.

Harry stood in shock with his jaw dropped as he looked at the spectacle. Hedwig was there all
right, but she was being attacked by two bigger, larger, and stronger wild eagle owls. Her
screeches were loud enough to pierce through a wall. Hermione stood a few feet away with both her
hands over her mouth in shock. A few other students were standing a few feet away and just
watching, too shocked to do anything.

Harry on the other hand could feel his blood rising quickly as he saw the two eagle owls torment
Hedwig. Her cries and whimpers fueled Harry even more as she could do nothing but just literally
sit there; the two owls were just overpowering her.

Without thinking, Harry dashed forward passed Hermione and to Hedwig’s much needed aide. In
Harry’s mind, he was no longer holding a box belonging to Hermione, but now he was holding a
weapon. He batted one of the owls off of Hedwig with the box, using momentum from his run to make
sure the owl received the full blast; it left a huge dent in the box. The eagle owl flew only a few
feet, a bit dazed by the blow.

With the adrenaline Harry had left, he used it to whack the other eagle owl off Hedwig. It flew
a few feet too, but not as far as the first owl did.

Harry looked around as he stood over Hedwig, protecting her from any other danger. A few
students that were watching let out screams and gasps; Hermione stood at a distance, her hands over
her mouth with shock.

The two eagle owls stumbled a bit, shook their heads, and focused their eyes right on Harry.

“Hang on Hedwig,” Harry whispered to her, “I won’t let anything else happen to you.”

As if on routine, the two eagle owls darted toward Harry, much faster than he had anticipated.
As a quick reaction, he shielded himself and Hedwig with the box, making the eagle owls attack that
first. It seemed like they wanted to tear the box apart in order to get to Harry. The eagle owls
slaughtered the box, getting through one of the sides and tearing away at its contents. The eagle
owls tried to get around it, but Harry was persistent in keeping Hedwig safe.

Some bystanders were starting to cheer him on. Others were just in plain shock.

“Go! Give it to em Harry!”

“Oh no! That’s awful!”

“Somebody help him!”

Those were some of the things Harry had heard as he continued to protect Hedwig. Not wanting to
defend any longer, Harry took a few swings with the box at the eagle owls when he felt the time was
right. Sometimes, he missed; other times he hit air. The back and forth duel between Harry and the
eagle owls went on for quite some time.

Finally, probably due to exhaustion, the two eagle owls gave up and retreated helplessly; they
could no longer take any more beatings. Harry watched with alerted eyes as the eagle owls flew
away, just in case if they were to come back. When he was certain they were long gone, Harry
dropped the box and rushed to his knees to Hedwig’s aide.

Harry kneeled beside her with his mouth agape. The damage was already done.

“Hedwig…”

“It’s… ok Harry…” she barely managed to get out, “I’m fine…”

Harry gently put his hand on one of her wings. It looked like it had been twisted with a pair of
human hands. Hedwig screeched in pain.

“Sorry, Hedwig,” he apologized, as he tried to caress her wing.

“I think it’s broken…” she whispered. Just then, Hermione came running and knelt down right
beside Harry to examine Hedwig as well. The rest of the spectators stood a few feet away silently,
hoping for the best.

“Oh my gosh Hedwig,” gasped Hermione. “You poor thing.”

“I’m fine Hermione,” said Hedwig. It was too bad it sounded like a pitiful moaning hoot to
her.

“We need to get you to the hospital wing,” she advised, wiping at least some of the blood that
was coming from her cuts. Because her feathers were white, the blood had stained most parts
red.

“I’ll take her,” called a voice from behind. Harry and Hermione both turned and saw the same
girl that had told the both of them that there was a problem. “I’ll handle her just like a delicate
child.”

Harry carefully helped Hedwig into the arms of the girl. After a sigh of relief, she was on her
way to the hospital wing, Hedwig as fragile as crystal in her arms.

Hermione sighed as the girl walked away and hugged Harry’s arm. This surprised him just a bit,
but nonetheless it did feel good. He smiled at her and she smiled back as the both of them watched
Hedwig off.

The crowd that was around them started into a bunch of cheers as the saving of Hedwig was a
complete success. Some of the students went over to congratulate Harry in a job well done; however,
the sudden look of sadness in Hermione’s eyes didn’t make him feel like celebrating any more.

“What’s wrong Hermione?” he asked, as if she and him were the only ones around. The crowd took
this as a hint, smiled with amusement, and walked off without another word.

Hermione didn’t answer. Harry continued to look over her; the look on her face was
heartbreaking. Her eyes were staring blankly to an area and her lip was somewhat trembling. It hurt
to see her in such a state. Harry followed her gaze to the heap of mess on the floor. It was her
box.

Harry had totally forgotten that it was *Hermione’s* box he was carrying. If his brain was
functioning correctly, he might’ve dropped it and took on the owls with his bare hands, but the two
eagle owls upset him too much for him to think.

The once beautiful and immaculate box was now a bit smudged, dirty, and smashed in several
places. It was shredded here and there and some pieces were falling off. The thing that caught
Harry’s eye the most was that it’s contents were protruding from the gashes.

Hermione let go of Harry’s arm and knelt down by the box, trying to gather all the pieces
together to see what was left. It seemed that Hermione cared more about the contents than
anything.

It was some sort of red material, made out of a very rich and delicate fabric. There were a few
hints of glittering in the material when the sun hit it, which told Harry that whatever was inside
was not cheap. Hermione ripped apart the box and took out all of the contents.

It looked like some sort of big, red, and shiny blanket ripped in two. The only difference was
that it was shredded and torn in a few places. Something told Harry that that was no blanket.

“Hermione…um… what was that?” asked Harry as he knelt down by her to observe the material with
her.

Hermione’s eyes were just a bit watery. She swallowed, hoping that the tears wouldn’t fall.
“This was my dress Harry.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe what he just heard. That big shredded material that he
though was a blanket turned out to be a dress! Harry embarrassingly reached for the material and
felt it carefully; the texture was one no blanket would have. Hermione sniffled.

“Um… Hermione?” asked Harry softly. “This wouldn’t happen to be the dress you were going to use
for tomorrow night’s Christmas Ball, right?”

“Actually… it is Harry,” she replied softly. “Well… it was…” She let out a fake heartedly laugh.
Though Harry could see the tears in her eyes, she refused to let them fall.

“Oh no…” groaned Harry. “This is all my fault…”

“No it’s not,” replied Hermione. “You were trying to protect a friend. That I see as a very
honorable thing to do.”

“But what about the ball?” asked Harry, his eyes full of concern for Hermione’s attendance for
the ball.

“Don’t worry about it,” she assured. “I’ll just find some other dress.”

“But it’s a formal ball Hermione!” exclaimed Harry. “If you don’t find another dress in time,
you won’t be able to attend.”

“Then I won’t go…” she whispered sadly.

“But…” was all Harry could say. In fact, he didn’t know what to say after all this. It was
because of him that her dress was used as a baseball bat. It was because of him that her dress was
completely destroyed. It was because of him that she wouldn’t be going to the Christmas Ball.

“I am so sorry Hermione…” whispered Harry.

“Don’t worry Harry,” she answered in the same soft, dead tone. “It’s not your fault.”

It was no use. Who was she trying to kid!? Harry knew very well that she knew this was his fault
and Hermione could have told him that it wasn’t his fault a million times and he still wouldn’t
believe it. No matter what, he was responsible for this mess here and deep in his mind, he was
going to make it up to her… but how?

“Is that why you weren’t down at lunch at the usual time?” Harry just had to make sure.

Hermione nodded. “I was waiting for the box to be delivered. Mom sent it to me…”

That did it… Harry *had* to make it up somehow.

***

Harry paced back and forth in his Head dormitory in his pajamas, trying to think straight. Since
the eagle owl dilemma, the thought of making it up to Hermione bothered him like a fly. He just
couldn’t concentrate on anything else.

“What am I going to do!?” said Harry to himself exasperatedly. “There’s something in my mind,
but I can’t put my finger on what it is!”

Harry scratched his head in frustration. “If only I had more time! The ball is less than 24
hours away! How am I going to get a dress before then!?”

Harry continued to pace even more around the room with his hands behind his back. “If I don’t
come up with something now, this’ll haunt me for the rest of my life. If only all stores sold
dresses then…”

Suddenly, Harry stopped in mid-sentence in the middle of the room, his eyes widening. He looked
at the door to his closet, then to a mirror showing his reflection, then to the broomstick
servicing kit Hermione had given him in 3rd year, then to the clock. He stood there for a few
moments to make sure that everything fit and would work.

“That’s it!” smiled Harry. “I think I got it!”

After taking a few deep breaths of relief, Harry climbed into bed and pulled up the covers with
the same grin on his face. He dreamed that his plan was going to turn out perfectly.



9. Harry's Decision
-------------------

**Chapter 9 - Harry’s Decision**

Something had woken up Harry just at the right time. He couldn’t explain it himself, but he was
subconsciously having doubts as he rubbed his eyes lazily and looked out the window; the sun was
just beginning to peek over the horizon.

“Why is it that the plan looked so much better when I was awake?” he said to himself with a
yawn.

Nonetheless, Harry got himself ready (a bit more slowly than usual) and bundled himself in
winter clothes for the day and headed toward the closet.

He opened it rather slowly, a bit hesitant most likely, peered inside, and gave a half grin.
There it was, leaning right against the side of the wall, immaculate and untouched.

“Here it is,” said Harry out loud as if he was talking to someone. “No turning back now.” He
grabbed the broomstick and held it delicately in his hands - as if he was saying goodbye. After
taking a deep breath, he propped the broomstick over his shoulder and headed quietly out the
door.

***

The alleys of Hogsmeade was no doubt a lot calmer and quieter than Harry was used to seeing.
Though the sun was just peeking over the horizon, many stores were dark and empty, while some of
them, the owners were just opening them up and preparing for a hard days work. The light snowfall
did give Hogsmeade a peaceful feel nonetheless. However, this scenery alone was starting to worry
Harry a bit.

“Maybe I came a little to early,” he said to himself wearily. “But I have no other time to come.
This’ll have to work!”

He picked up his pace a bit and prayed that she would be there. She had to! Finally, after
quickly walking down an alley, he came to the place he was looking for: “Lynda’s Wizard
Anythings”.

The stores curtains were closed and it seemed a bit dark at first, but a dim light that came
from the back of the store gave Harry a bit of hope.

“Hello? Is anyone in there?” he shouted as he knocked on the door. There was no answer.

“This is not good,” Harry said shaking his head. He tried knocking again. Still no answer.

“What am I going to do!?” he sighed exasperatedly, sitting on the front steps of the shop,
placing his broom stick in his lap, and burying his head in his hands. He sat there for a few
moments, wondering what else he could possibly do when suddenly from behind him…

“Harry…?”

His head shot up and swiveled his head around.

“Ashley!” exclaimed Harry happily.

“What are you doing here?” she asked with a smile, not used to such a warm smiling face at this
time in the morning.

Harry was too pleased to see her to answer.

***

After Ashley had let Harry in, dusted some snow of his robes, and gave him a goblet of hot
chocolate, she stood behind her counter with Harry on the other side, ready to engage in
conversation.

“So what on earth are you doing here at such an early time?” she asked in a half curious, half
annoyed sort of way.

“Hold on a second,” Harry said, and turned around and walked toward the front of the store
carefully, making sure that he didn’t step on anything in the way.

The front displays of the manikins were covered by a sheet. Harry quickly moved it aside to get
a peek and smiled.

It was just like Harry had faintly remembered: the two manikins, one of them dressed and the
other not. But Harry was looking contently at the dressed one. The one with the fine red elegant
dress. Harry laughed softly through his nose and expressed his joy to himself with a small, “All
right!” He covered the manikins back up and made his way back to Ashley, who had a confused and
bewildered look on her face.

“Ok,” she said slowly. “What was that all about?”

“I need a favor,” said Harry seriously and to the point. “I need that red dress over there.”

Ashley continued to look at him with the same confused look on her face. Then gradually, as what
Harry had said became to register, a smile crept on to her face, which in turn made its way into a
laugh.

“Ok,” she said again between her uncontrolled giggles. Harry didn’t seem to think anything was
funny.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I mean come on Harry,” Ashley answered, trying to control her giggles, “It’s not everyday that
a *guy* comes here at the crack of dawn and asks for a dress. What do *you* need it for?
I’m positive you’re not in desperate need of one.”

“Oh its not for me!” Harry said hastily, turning a bit red and chuckling a bit with Ashley.
“It’s for a friend of mine.”

“*I’m sure it is Harry*!” answered Ashley sarcastically. “No! I’m kidding!”

Harry was starting to feel very impatient with her.

“Tell me what happened,” she asked in more serious tone. “Why would you need a dress so
badly?”

Harry began explaining to her all about Hedwig and how she was attacked by two wild eagle owls,
how he had mindlessly used Hermione’s box as a weapon, and how the box and its contents, which
happened to be Hermione’s dress for the Christmas Ball, had gotten destroyed in the whole
ordeal.

“Oh I am so sorry,” said Ashley, feeling very sorry for Harry.

“Don’t be,” he added. “Even though Hermione says that it wasn’t my fault, deep down, I know that
she knows its my fault. And no matter how much she denies it, I’ve done something wrong Ashley, and
I have to make up for it.”

“And the reason you want that dress is so that you can pay Hermione back for the dress you
ruined?”

“Exactly!” proclaimed Harry, his eyes lighting up. However, Ashley sighed sorrowfully.

“I’m not going to lie to you Harry,” she added sadly. “That dress on that manikin is very
expensive. That’s why no one was buying it.”

“I figured that,” said Harry calmly. “That’s where I need a favor.”

He had her undivided attention as she was anxious to hear what *exactly* his favor was.

“Well…” started Harry embarrassingly, “since I don’t have any money on me right now…”

“I’m sorry Harry,” she interrupted, and she really looked it, “but I can’t let you have that and
you pay me back later. It’s against company policy and I’m very faithful to my grandma…”

“Oh but wasn’t it!” assured Harry. “I was thinking of something else…”

“Like what?”

“Well…” said Harry again, turning a bit pink and rubbing the back of his neck. “I was thinking
more along the lines of a… a trade?”

“Trade?” repeated Ashley incredulously. “And what would you trade for that dress?”

Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled the item he had been hiding into view.
Ashley’s knees almost gave way when Harry had shown what he wanted to trade. He handed it over to
her and she took it hesitantly.

“Harry…” she said mesmerized, her wide eyes on the thing that was in her hands. “This is a
Firebolt Broomstick.”

“I know,” said Harry softly, his thoughts that this may be the last time he ever saw it again.
“I want to trade this for the dress.”

“But - but…” startled Ashley. She seemed to be looking for a reason *not* to take it. Harry
was already one step ahead of her.

“I know that this broomstick is probably worth twice as much as the dress,” he explained, “but I
don’t want the difference of it. I just want a simple trade, my broomstick for your dress.”

“But this is your Firebolt Broomstick Harry!” Ashley said incredulously. “This is your most
prized possession!”

“I know,” Harry replied in the same and calm voice. “But I owe a friend a favor because of my
stupidity. I have to give up something.”

“Well I can’t wait for the look on her face when she finds out that you gave up your prized
broomstick so you could replace her dress!” she said, her face lighting up.

“Oh! I’m not going to tell her,” Harry simply put.

The minute she looked at Harry, her face fell; Harry didn’t look as heartedly as she did. “Why
not?”

“Because,” said Harry as he rubbed the back of his neck again, as if that would explain it, “I
just don’t want her to. Trust me, it’ll make things easier, that’s why.”

Ashley took her eyes off the broom for a moment and placed it gently on the counter. Her eyes
were narrowed suspiciously.

“Let me get this straight,” she said in a heated tone. “You want to trade in your Firebolt
Broomstick, for a dress for a girl that’s your best friend, who you happen to have a crush on,
because you ruined her last one, and to sum it all up, you won’t tell her that you did it?”

Harry nodded slowly, however a bit surprised at Ashley’s tone change. “Yeah… and for whatever
situation that may come up, please don’t tell her, or anyone for that matter.”

“Harry…”

“Please!?” he begged.

“…that is the most sweetest thing I’ve ever heard!” she proclaimed. “I’ve never heard such great
deed before!”

Harry didn’t seem to be listening to her. “Promise me that you won’t say a word.”

“I won’t,” Ashley promised. “Though I don’t know when I’d ever see her. I don’t even know what
she looks like!”

“That’s right,” laughed Harry. “But anyway… thanks Ashley…”

“Anytime Harry,” smiled Ashley. “But…”

“What?”

“I still don’t agree with accepting the Firebolt. Don’t you have something else?”

“Not including my Firebolt, I don’t have anything with enough value,” explained Harry. “Besides,
I think the trade is worth it.”

“But Harry…”

“Could you help me with the dress?” interrupted Harry, not wanting to hear of the Firebolt
anymore.

***

After taking the dress off the manikin, Ashley went ahead and packed it neatly in a white box
and took the initiative to put a white bow on it.

“You didn’t have to…” blushed Harry as she handed the box to him.

“Of course I did,” she made certain. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Thanks again Ashley,” thanked Harry for about the hundredth time.

“No problem,” she replied. “Go and make Hermione a happy witch.”

Harry smiled.

“Which reminds me,” added Ashley, “Hermione hasn’t receive her gift yet huh?”

It took Harry a while before he got it. “That’s right!”

“You’ve forgotten about it?”

“Not entirely,” admitted Harry.

“Then she’ll have *two* great gifts from you! But she’ll only know of one,” she added
sadly.

Harry nodded, gave a small smile, and started for the door, the box under his arm. He paused at
the doorsill and took one final look at Ashley.

“Bye Ashley and thanks again…”

“Bye Harry,” she waved and smiled, hearing him say thank you for the hundredth and one time.
“And good luck.”

“Make sure you take care of her for me,” he said, motioning toward the broomstick on the
counter.

“I will,” replied Ashley. And with that Harry closed the door behind him and was gone.

**A/N: To all the readers out there, just to let you know, this story is FAR from over. We may
be in on an emotional adventure for Harry here…**



10. What to do?
---------------

**Chapter 10 - What to do?**

Luckily, it was still very early when Harry had returned to Hogwarts. He still had to be careful
though; he didn’t want anyone to see him (mostly Hermione) with a strange box at so early in the
morning. Just to make sure that there were no students, Harry glanced around corners in the halls
to check. Other than a few ghosts roaming from here to there, fortunately there was no
students.

“Whew!” whispered Harry as he finally got up to Hermione’s room. Right when he was about to open
her door, he froze.

Wait a minute, thought Harry. This is way too obvious. There’s got to be another way! I know,
I’ll visit Hedwig, he said as he dashed off into the direction of the hospital wing. She’ll know
what to do.

***

Much to the resentment of Madam Pomfrey (Oh all right! But not more than 5 minutes! You should
still be asleep at this hour!), Harry sat down next to the bed that contained Hedwig and placed the
box on the side. He smiled.

Her bed was the exact design and trim of the human hospital beds, but it was scaled down and
made to fit just the right size of Hedwig. She hooted in glee when she awoke and saw him.

“Hello Harry,” she said lazily, opening one eye and smiling.

“Hi Hedwig,” whispered Harry.

“What on Earth are you doing up this early?”

Harry went ahead and told her all about the situation he was in. About how he got up early and
went to the same place in Hogsmeade where he had gotten Hermione’s Christmas present to get her a
dress for tonight’s Christmas Ball, all the way up to where he traded in his Firebolt broomstick
for it.

“You didn’t!” screeched Hedwig in astonishment.

“I did,” confirmed Harry. “It was the only way I’d have to money for the dress!”

Hedwig was ready to scold him some more, but her tiredness and weakness, added to the fact that
it was way too early in the morning for anything, stopped her from doing so.

“So what are you going to do?” she asked.

“That’s where you come in,” said Harry, looking at her positively. “I need to get this to
her…”

“Well that’s simple,” replied Hedwig sarcastically. “I mean, it would be difficult, but I
suggest that you just hand it to her.”

“…without her or anyone else for that matter, finding out that it’s from me,” added Harry.

Hedwig stared at him the same way Ashley had stared at him earlier when he said that she didn’t
want her finding out.

“Harry…” she said soflty, “you sacrificed your broom.”

He nodded.

“…so you could buy a dress for Hermione.”

He nodded.

“…for a Ball that she is attending in which you are *not* accompanying her.”

He nodded.

“…and you don’t want her to know that it was from you.”

He nodded.

“Well Harry,” she concluded, still with the confused look on her face, “I don’t know what you’re
up to or why you are doing what you are doing. But what ever it is, I’m sure it’s for an
explicable, yet very good reason.”

Harry blinked. Just as he was about to say something, Hedwig continued.

“Take the box up to one of the school owls. Give explicit instructions to have him or her
deliver it at lunch in the Great Hall. Make sure you are in there sitting with Hermione when it
happens, and act like you have no idea about it. The more people around the better. Got it?”

“Got it,” assured Harry. Motivated to have this done before students started to wake, Harry got
up and was ready to leave.

“Thanks Hedwig,” said Harry as he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Get better soon
ok?”

“I will,” said Hedwig, determined to getting more sleep. “I will…”

***

After doing exactly what Hedwig had advised, Harry went to his Head Boy room and plopped face
down on the bed, fully relieved that it was finally over. Not to mention, he didn’t get caught,
which was the biggest thing that he was relieved for.

“I’m so tired…” yawned Harry as he turned and lay flat on his back to face the ceiling, his arms
out to his side. His body was not used to starting the day so early. He assumed that a few hours
made no big deal, but now he was feeling the effects on his body.

Harry’s eyes shut in a lazy and wavering motion and once they did, his head drooped and relaxed
to the side, his glasses shifting just a bit on the bridge of his nose…



11. In the Great Hall
---------------------

**Chapter 11 - In The Great Hall**

Harry didn’t know what happened at first. It might have been that his body usually did not get
up at this point in time or maybe it was because he was anxious as to what Hermione might say, but
for some reason or another, Harry’s eyes lazily opened up from his dreamless sleep.

He rolled over on his bed, not wanting to get up at first. Then his mind kicked in and reminded
him that unless he wanted Hedwig’s plan to work to full potential, he would have to make his way to
the Great Hall tired or not. Harry glanced at his watch.

“It’s 11:45,” he said to himself. “Almost time for lunch.”

He sat up slowly from his bed, smoothened out all the wrinkles from his robes, pushed his
glasses back up the bridge of his nose, and went out the door to the Great Hall.

***

As soon as Harry walked out the door, someone slammed into him, consequently dropping all of the
books he was carrying.

“Oh I’m so sorry!” exclaimed the boy, dropping to the floor to quickly pick up his things. He
was taking short and quick breaths, probably because of the running he endured. He had the same
raven-black hair as Harry did, although not as messy. From the looks of his uniform, he came from
Gryffindor House though Harry had never seen him before.

“It’s ok,” he said, bending down and helping him pick up his things. “Just slow down and take it
easy the next time around.”

“Yes sir,” the boy stammered, “I will sir.”

After Harry had helped pick up most of the booked and arranged them in a way so that the boy
could at least keep his balanced when he walked, he spotted another.

“Oh look!” said Harry, bending down to pick up another book that he had missed, “you
forgot…”

Just as Harry looked up, the boy had disappeared. He frowned in confusion and scanned the
corridor. But just as quick as the boy had bumped into him, he was gone. Letting curiosity get the
best of him, he took a look at the book.

Secrets of Potions: Made Easy was different in size than what Harry was used to seeing. It was
smaller and more compact than a library book, which was probably the reason why the boy had missed
picking it up in the first place. However, unlike a library book, it was fairly in new condition.
Harry pocketed it and continued to the Great Hall.

***

“Hi guys,” greeted Harry as he sat next to Ron in their usual seating spot with Hermione sitting
across from him.

Harry settled into his seat with a thump and propped the side of his head in one hand with a
sigh.

“Hey Harry,” Ron acknowledged, digging back into his plate for some more of his lunch.

“Are you ok Harry?” Hermione asked, looking sideways at him.

Harry looked up and opened his mouth to answer her, but found that no words came out. Though
Hermione never realized it, she had him in one of those trances that Hermione was only capable of
doing.

Hermione’s look of concern was good enough to make Harry’s insides lurch. In fact, just about
any face Hermione made, made his insides flutter with happiness.

“You look…tired,” she said.

“I am,” yawned Harry, “I’ve been getting up early these past few days.” Harry’s mouth completely
shut after his last sentence.

Oh great, thought Harry. I might as well tell her that an owl will come I here in minute now.
The questioned that Harry feared she would ask came out a second later.

“Getting up early for what?” asked Hermione.

“Uh…” stuttered Harry, searching his brain for any answer he could find. “I’ve been getting up
early so I could visit Hedwig.”

“You have?”

“Yeah. I have to do it in the morning because I won’t have time to see her at any other time of
the day.”

Harry sighed in relieve. He was so lucky that he had that excuse to use. Suddenly, he felt a
tingle go down his spine. Hedwig has been in the Hospital Wing for only one day. How could I have
been seeing her for the past few days? He prayed that neither of them noticed his flaw.

“So how is she?” asked Ron. Though he was munching away on food, he seemed to be listening in on
the conversation.

“She’s doing rather well,” said Harry, relieved that Ron didn’t notice. “But Madam Pomfrey
doesn’t like it when I go in at such an early hour.”

“I can see why though Harry,” said Hermione matter-of-factly, “It would be like you going into a
store before it even opened!”

Harry laughed, not only because Hermione didn’t notice it either, but that she didn’t know
exactly how right she was. “That’s a good choice of words you used there.”

“So are you still going to attend the Christmas Ball Hermione?” asked Ron, changing the
subject.

“Well actually,” started Hermione, looking down at the table and turning a bit pink, “because of
the incident that happened yesterday, I won’t be able to. Required formal wear remember?” she added
when seeing Ron’s confused face.

“That’s right,” Ron said, feeling foolish. “So how does Ernie feel about it Hermione?”

“He’s a bit upset,” she admitted, “but nothing too big. He said it wouldn’t be the same without
me, so he agreed not to attend too.”

“Really!?” asked Ron incredulously. “Why did he do that!?”

“Don’t know,” shrugged Hermione. “He really shouldn’t do that. But I have nothing else to do but
respect his decision.”

“I’m really sorry Hermione.”

“Don’t be. It’s no big deal really…”

No big deal my foot, thought Harry. It was because of him that not only one, but two people were
not attending the Ball. No worry, their problems would be over in just a few moments.

***

As if right on schedule, (if there actually was a *schedule* to abide by) the exact same
owl that Harry had given the gift box to swooped into the Great Hall and dove toward the table
where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting. It was carrying an ordinary and unwrapped gift box.
The owl dropped the box into Hermione’s lap and left just as quickly as it had came.

“Whoa…” blinked Ron after a few moments of silence.

“What on Earth is this?” asked Hermione, more to herself than anyone else. She examined the tag,
which said, ‘Hermione’ in an unrecognizable handwriting.

“Well Hermione,” said Ron in a mock-impatient way, “judging from the size, shape, and look, I’d
say it have to be a gift box.”

“I know that!” snapped Hermione. “I mean *why* do I have this box? And who would send it to
me?”

“Oh,” said Ron blandly, going back to his plate for food, “I don’t know then.”

Harry on the other hand had not said a word. He was much to excited that his plan was going all
to well. However, he realized that he was a little too quiet despite the situation.

“Wait!” said Harry, pretending to be suddenly interested. “How do we know that this box isn’t
dangerous?” Hermione’s eyes lit up as of he was probably right.

“We don’t,” answered Ron absently, stuffing more food into his mouth. “But I’m sure someone else
will think it’s dangerous too.”

Hermione suddenly looked hesitant to open the box. Harry wasn’t quite sure that implying that
the box was dangerous was such a good idea. What if Hermione didn’t open the it?

“Is it heavy?” asked Harry, pretending to be curious.

Hermione weighed it in her hands carefully. “No, it‘s not.”

Harry laughed at himself. “Then it’s probably not dangerous. Usually if something is heavy it’s
either dangerous or expensive.”

“What’s going on here?” said an incoming voice from another direction. Harry frowned.

“Hi Ernie,” smiled Hermione. He had put himself behind Hermione and stared at the box just as
everyone else. “I just got this box in the mail.”

“Well, go on open it then,” persuaded Ernie, “I’m sure it’s not dangerous.”

“Harry thinks it’s dangerous,” insisted Hermione.

“I *thought* it was dangerous,” corrected Harry. “I think Ernie’s right, (though Harry
hated admitting it) but I don’t think it’s dangerous.”

“Hi guys!” said another voice from another direction, but two people were heading toward
them.

“Ginny were have you been?” asked Ron, looking at her like how their mom would if she was
wondering where her children were. “Oh, hi Colin.”

“Hey Ron,” said Colin from behind Ginny, as though something bad would happen if he had said
something wrong. Ron eyed him suspiciously.

“I was helping Colin with his homework,” explained Ginny. “And then…”

She seemed to not want to finish her sentence.

“And then what?” asked Ron.

“Uh… I’d rather not say,” started Ginny, looking over at Colin and smiling. He returned the
smile. “Not now anyway. I want it to be a surprise. But I can say that it has something to do with
the Christmas Ball tonight…”

Harry, who was closest to Ginny, looked at her and made eye contact.

“What?” she whispered so that only Harry could hear him. He didn’t answer, but looked over at
Colin and back at Ginny, still with the “what?” look on her face.

Harry grinned. “Don’t worry Ginny, I get it…”

“So what’s going on?” asked Ginny, slightly scarlet in the face and trying to change the
subject.

“Hermione got that box,” said Ron, motioning toward her. “But she’s afraid to open it because
she thinks it’s dangerous.”

Hermione hadn’t said a word, but looked at the box as if it were to explode any second. She
looked really concerned.

“Oh nonsense Hermione!” exclaimed Ginny, eyeing the box. “I’m sure it’s not dangerous!”

“Harry said it’s dang…”

“I *thought* it was dangerous!” said Harry through gritted teeth.

Ernie put his hands on Hermione’s shoulders and caressed them gently. Harry fought the urge to
remove Ernie’s hands from her himself.

“It’s all right Hermione,” whispered Ernie. “I don’t think it’s dangerous ok? I’m sure
everything’s going to be ok.”

Hermione looked over her shoulder at him. “Ok…” she whispered.

“Now go on,” said Ernie softly. “Go and enjoy yourself.”

Hermione nodded, took a deep breath and opened the box…



12. Hermione
------------

**Chapter 11 - Hermione’s Reaction**

Harry had to admit: what Hermione’s expression was when she had opened the box was a predictable
one, but not the one that Harry was expecting.

She had placed the gift box flat on the table and gently tugged on the sides of it, making the
cover come off in one motion. Harry was baffled at how silent the Great Hall had become and how
many other students from other tables were just as interested in Hermione opening the box as
everyone else was, as if they were about to see the solution to a great mystery…

“Oh wow…” gasped Hermione as she pulled the contents out from the gift box.

“Oooh!” chorused the rest of the students the were watching.

Hermione pulled the elegant red dress from the box and held it by the shoulders at arms length
to admire it. Ginny looked to be the most excited.

“Hermione!” she squealed. “It’s… it’s a dress…!”

Ron had to repress a snort. “She knows what it is Ginny.”

“You know what this means Hermione?” said Ginny energetically, ignoring Ron. “You can go to Ball
tonight!”

Hermione didn’t answer. She was in awe of the beautiful dress before her.

“This is…” she siad, baffled, “this is…” She didn’t really know how to finish the sentence.

“Beautiful…?” finished Ernie from behind her.

Hermione’s head swiveled around and she looked at him ecstatically. “Did you do this Ernie?”

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Colin automatically turned to Ernie to, anxious as to what he was going
to say. Harry, however, was the most anxious. He better not say the wrong answer…

“Well… uh…” started Ernie, “I hate to tell you this but…”

Everyone’s attention seemed to grow and the tension got stronger.

“Nope, sorry Hermione. But I didn’t send you this. I *wish* I had though,” he added as an
afterthought, “seeing the joyful look on your face.”

She smiled back at him in understanding and turned back to her dress.

“You sure it’s for you?” asked Ron.

“Yes,” said Ginny, motioning in the direction of the tag. “It says, ‘To: Hermione’ on it.”

“Well you were right about one thing Harry,” said Ron.

“What’s that?” asked Harry.

“It’s not dangerous, but it is expensive,” said Ron, matter-of-factly.

There was another unusual silence. Everyone was staring at Ron. “What?”

“And how do *you* know it’s expensive Ron?” asked Ginny accusingly.

“Just by the way it looks!” Ron answered defensively. He could feel Hermione staring at him and
he caught her eye.

“Hey don’t look at me!” said Ron, putting his hands up in a defending way. “You know that I
haven’t got *anything* to buy even the fabric for that thing!”

Harry was silent the entire time, which, he realized, probably wasn’t a god idea if he wanted to
keep the person who contributed the gift a secret. He coughed, which unavoidably got the attention
of Hermione. Harry started to tremble in his seat slightly, looking at the dress wide-eyed and
pretending to be just as astonished as everyone else.

“Did you have anything to do with this Harry?” Hermione asked, hopeful that he was going to say
yes. Everyone else looked at him too.

Harry shook his head slowly. “No…” he said carefully, but not carelessly either.

“Do you know who might have been involved?”

“No idea…”

“It’s too bad that I don’t know who sent it,” said Hermione. “Otherwise I would have attended
the Ball with that person to thank him…(Harry’s insides fell like a stone) well, assuming that the
sender was a guy. You wouldn’t have minded would you?” she asked Ernie.

“Of course not,” he answered, though it looked like he *was* going to be disappointed.

“Well we do know one thing for sure Hermione,” Ron interjected. “There’s someone out there that
*really* wants you to be his or her best friend.”

“I have to find this person that gave you this,” said Ernie. “Without his or her generosity, you
wouldn’t be able to attend the Christmas Ball tonight.”

Harry sighed to himself. Everything was going according to plan, but why did he suddenly
*want* to tell Hermione that it was he who gave her the dress?

No, Harry told himself, it’s less complicated this way…

“Well, Colin and I have to get going,” said Ginny. “we’ll see you all at the Ball.” She
specifically winked at Harry.

No you won’t, thought Harry.

“Speaking of leaving,” said Ron, looking at his watch, just about when Ginny and Colin
disappeared, “I need to go find Rachel. She said she wanted to talk to be about something. See you
guys!”

With that, he was gone.

“Come on Hermione,” said Ernie excitedly, tugging on her arm. “Let’s go see how that dress looks
on you.”

“But Harry will be left by himse…”

“I’ll be ok,” said Harry, in the best normal voice he could do. “You two go along and have a
good time.”

Hermione looked at him concerned. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” replied Harry. “Besides, I have to… uh… finish some things…”

“Well ok…” said Hermione regretfully. In the blink of an eye, she and Ernie were gone.

“Well… that went well…” said Harry with a half breath of relief and half sadness. He picked up
Secrets of Potions: Made Easy and continued where he had left off. He might as well find something
to do because he wasn’t doing anything special tonight…



13. The Christmas Ball
----------------------

**Chapter 13 - The Christmas Ball**

It wasn’t surprising that Harry found himself in his private Head Boy dormitory sitting at his
desk reading Secrets of Potions: Made Easy. It was about the time for the Christmas Ball to begin
and Harry could hear all the commotion outside his door. He could hear students running up and down
halls, some of them having conversations, and others just plain yelling.

Harry sighed in his chair and tried to concentrate on the book, but with all the distractions
outside, it was very difficult. He would have to find the boy who had dropped the book and return
it to him soon.

The thought that Harry could have been attending the Christmas Ball (with Hermione too no less)
kept scrambling in his mind. If he just told her that the dress was from him, it would be him that
was going to dance with Hermione, not Ernie. But being the person that Hermione was, Harry figured
that she would not accept the gift from him if she knew that he bartered his Firebolt for her
dress. As long as Hermione was happy, it was all good for Harry. Just as Harry could recognize a
mass group of people shuffling down to the Great Hall, which told him that the Ball was starting
soon, there was a knock on his door.

Harry’s head shot up from Secrets of Potions: Made Easy and to his door with an eyebrow raised.
“Come in.”

“Hi Harry,” replied Colin Creevey, fully dressed to attend a Christmas Ball, as he stepped
through the door and walked toward Harry’s desk.

“Hey Colin,” said Harry, surprised that Colin was there to see him. “What can I do for you? I
know you don’t want to keep Ginny waiting.”

“Oh,” said Colin, surprised that Harry knew who he was attending the Ball with. “Well actually I
have something for you.”

He reached out from under his dress robes and pulled out a standard size manila envelope and
handed it to Harry.

“What’s this?” asked Harry, hesitantly taking it from Colin at first. Harry waited for Colin to
explain before opening it.

“Well I just had a huge photography project where I had to take as many pictures as possible,”
explained Colin, matter-of-factly. “So many in fact that I have way too much for me too keep.”

Harry nodded in assurance that he was following what Colin was saying.

“I don’t believe in throwing pictures away,” he continued, “because I think it’s like throwing
away treasures. Plus, I think it’s bad luck to be throwing pictures away especially if it’s of
people.”

“I see,” replied Harry, not seeing where this was going.

“And I want you to have that picture,” finished Colin.

Though Harry didn‘t really care what the picture was of, a curiosity enveloped him. “Why would
you figure I would want to have this?”

“Don’t know,” shrugged Colin, but the slight smile on his face told Harry that he did know.

“Well, thanks, I guess…”

“Um Harry? Are you going to the Christmas Ball?”

“… No I don’t think so…”

“Oh… well…um…” stuttered Colin, not really knowing what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” assured Harry. “It’s not your fault.”

“Well… um… I better get going then Harry…” said Colin uneasily.

“Yeah sure,” he replied. “You don’t want to keep Ginny waiting.” Just as Colin was about to
close the door behind him, Harry called.

“Colin?”

He turned around toward Harry. “Yeah?”

Harry fanned the envelope in his hand, still not knowing what was in it. “Thanks.”

He anxiously opened the envelope as soon as Colin left. What he found inside was not what he had
expected: It was a 5x7 Muggle portrait of Hermione from the chest up.

She was wearing her Hogwart’s uniform and leaning against a wall somewhere outside of the school
grounds and hugging a few books to her chest. Her smile was of sheer joy and simplicity that made
you feel warm when you saw it. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders and just by the way her hair
looked, you could tell that there was a slight breeze just as the picture was taken. By the way the
mood of the picture looked, it seemed that Hermione didn’t plan on taking the picture in the first
place; she was asked impromptu.

“Wow!” whispered Harry to himself. He was surprised at how Colin could manipulate his camera so
precisely that he could catch a single moment in time so beautifully, but not as surprised as how
beautifully the picture had turned out. More specifically, why did Colin give it to him in the
first place? Colin sure had a gift in photography, which explained why he was in an advanced
class.

As Harry continued to admire the picture, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he said automatically, still concentrating on the picture. He heard the sound of the
door creak open and close and a figure approach him a few feet from his desk but was still
distracted by the photo.

“Harry?” said a girl voice that was very familiar. Harry’s daydream was coming into reality; he
was still staring at the picture but he could make out a figure standing in front of him wearing
something very sparkling and *very* red.

“Harry?” Hermione asked carefully, as though she were approaching a tiger.

Harry scrambled to put the picture back into the manila envelope and then throwing it into the
top drawer of his desk and closing it with a big slam. He ended up sitting comfortably in his chair
with his hands folded as though he had done nothing.

“Hi Hermi…,” started Harry nervously, but the words stuck in his throat as he gazed at her. At
first he was hoping that she had not seen what he was doing or what he was looking at, but that all
didn’t seen to matter now.

Hermione was wearing the elegant red dress that he (although she had no idea) gave to her. The
dress was partially shoulder-less and just barely dragged on the floor. There were a few sparkling
diamonds in some of the hems and her hair (which was usually bushy, but Harry found attractive
anyway) was tied up in an graceful knot. She looked absolutely stunning.

“Hi Hermione,” squeaked Harry.

“Hi Harry,” answered Hermione, but with a look of uttermost confusion. “You’re… you’re not
ready…?”

Harry blinked and uncomfortablely took Secrets of Potions: Made Easy and a quill and nervously
pretended to take notes.

“Ready for what?” asked Harry, not looking at Hermione.

“Ready for the Ball Harry,” answered Hermione. Harry stopped pretending to take notes.

“Oh,” he said, looking up at her. “I’m not going…” He looked back down at Secrets of Potions:
Made Easy and pretended to take notes again.

“And why not!?” asked Hermione sadly, approaching Harry’s desk and resting her palms on top.

“I couldn’t get a date,” said Harry uneasily. “You know, about the “having a date” requirement
thing, that Dumbledore said. I don’t have a date so I can’t go.”

“Oh…” was Hermione’s response. “Did you ask that girl that you like?”

Two things hit Harry at the moment. One: Since when did Hermione noticed that he “liked”
someone? Two: This was not something good if he wanted to catch Hermione’s attention…

“I was about to…” began Harry timidly, “but someone got the chance before I did…”

“Oh…” said Hermione. “Well I guess you should be quicker next time.”

“Maybe…”

“I really thought that you had a date for the Ball.”

“I thought I had one too. But… things didn’t work out well for me.”

There was a long silence between the two of them.

Harry motioned toward Hermione‘s outfit. “Any clue as to who gave you the dress?”

“No, none,” said Hermione, shaking her head.

“Oh,” said Harry, feeling a bit relieved. “You look beautiful in it.”

“Thank you…” smiled Hermione. “It’s too bad I can’t say that you look handsome.”

“No… you can’t.”

Hermione leaned in and over the desk closer to Harry, putting her mouth very close to his ear.
Harry shivered slightly.

“I still think you’re handsome,” she whispered, then withdrawing and standing upright.

“Thanks,” said Harry, blushing a bit and looking back down Secrets of Potions: Made Easy. He
could start to hear feet rumbling down corridors outside his door, which meant that the Christmas
Ball would be starting soon.

“You better get going,” urged Harry. “You don’t want to keep your date waiting.”

“Right,” Hermione agreed, but reluctantly. She left much more slowly than she had stepped
in.

“Whew,” sighed Harry with relief. “That was close. She almost saw the picture that I was looking
at. Who knows what she would think if she knew I had that. Probably think I was obsessed with her
or something…”

Suddenly, there was another knock at the door. Harry was beginning to get irritated.

“Come in,” Harry said.

He thought that someone he knew would walk in but someone he *didn’t* know walked in. It
was a black- haired young boy probably in his third year. He wore Gryffindor robes, though Harry
had never seen him before, though he did look vaguely familiar. That was another thing that puzzled
him; the boy didn’t look at all ready to be going to a Ball. Of course, Harry assumed that he was
the only one not attending the Ball.

“Can I help you?” asked Harry in a professional manner.

“Um… Mr. Potter?” squeaked the boy.

“Call me Harry,” said Harry, a bit weirded out at the formality of his name.

“Oh ok Mr. Potter… I mean, Harry.” The boy seemed to be very nervous about something. “Could I
ask you something?”

“Sure,” answered Harry. He motioned toward the seat in front of his desk. “Please sit down.”

Though the boy did get into the seat, he looked just as nervous as before and he sat looking
very tense.

“Well…um…” began the boy, “well… you are the Head Boy and um… it would be your duty to… um… help
out a fellow Gryffindor if he was in need of advice right?”

“Uh huh,” nodded Harry, still puzzled by the whole situation. “So what’s your question?”

“Well… um… how do you know if… um… you’re… in love…?”

“Huh?” said Harry, not sure if whether or not he had heard correctly.

“How do you know if you are in love or not?”

“Oh!” exclaimed Harry, very taken aback by the question. “Well um…” he seemed to be looking for
a name.

“Daniel. But you can call me Dan.”

“Well Dan,” said Harry. “That’s a very difficult question actually, but I’ll answer it as best
as I can.”

Harry cleared his throat and tried to clear his mind.

“Actually, you can’t really say if you’re in love or not. It’ll just come to you one day. You’ll
meet the right person and it’ll hit you like… um… like…”

“…lightning?”

“Yes! And you’ll just… know.”

“I see,” replied Dan nervously.

“Is something going on?” asked Harry, though he already knew what the answer was.

Dan nodded.

“Is there a girl that you think your in love with?” Harry sounded almost disguised with himself.
He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. It sounded like he was on some hotline for
love advice.

“There is,” explained Dan. “We’ve been friends since first years just me and her. Then suddenly
I looked at her one day, earlier this year to be exact, and I… I don’t know… I… just wanted to kiss
her…”

Harry was surprised that Dan was so open with him, like being Head Boy and listening to love
problems *was* his job in the first place.

“I know what you mean,” answered Harry. “In fact, I’m not too far from you Dan. There’s a girl
in my life too that I know I’m in love with.”

“You mean Head Girl, Hermione Granger?”

Harry was amazed at the sureness of Dan’s answer. Like he or anyone would be stupid if you
didn’t know that “Harry Potter was in love with Hermione Granger”.

“The point is Dan,” continued Harry, ignoring Dan, “you just need to feel it out. One day you’re
going to feel “it”. I don’t know what “it” is, but you’re going to feel it.”

Dan nodded in confirmation.

“By the way,” added Harry, “ I think this is your book.” He handed over Secrets of Potions: Made
Easy.

“I don’t need it,” said Dan. “You keep it. You may find something you need in there.”

“Yeah, like how to cure a heartbreak or something,” joked Harry. Dan laughed with him then stood
up to leave.

Harry continued. “Have fun at the Christmas Ball.”

“Oh… I’m not going,” said Dan in about the same way Harry said it when Hermione asked him
something along those lines.

“I couldn’t get a date,” Dan proceeded. “Besides, she already got a date.”

“Let me guess,” said Harry, feeling sorry for him and himself all over again, “you didn’t ask in
time?”

Dan nodded sadly.

“It’s ok,” comforted Harry. “It’s too early to tell if she likes him yet.

“I hope you’re right,” sighed Dan, just as he opened Harry’s door. “And Harry…” Harry looked at
him again. “Thanks…”

“You’re welcome. Come anytime you need help ok?”

“Ok,” answered Dan closing the door softly behind him.

“Poor guy,” said Harry to himself. “He’s almost as pathetic as me…”

**A/N Sorry for the HUGE delay in the update. I’ve been WAY TOO busy with work and college that
I almost forgot about this fic. Not to worry, I may have forgotten, but I’m not giving up! BTW,
anyone see the PoA Trailer yet?**



14. Christmas Morning
---------------------

**Chapter 14 - Christmas Morning**

Harry bolted his head straight up after hearing a constant pounding on his door. Last thing he
remembered was talking to Dan and looking through Secrets of Potions: Made Easy for a moment. He
had gotten so out of it that he must’ve fallen asleep, straight through until morning. It was
Christmas. He could still hear the faint music that came from the Great Hall where the Christmas
Ball was but lost the sensation with the knocks at his door. Harry rubbed his eyes, straightened
his glasses, and lazily walked over to the door to open it.

Hermione’s face matched the color of her dress the night before and she looked to be very tired
and very irritated about something. Harry didn’t notice. After seeing her, he walked back to his
chair and thumped his head back on his desk.

“Not going to invite me in Harry?” asked Hermione sourly. Harry picked his head slowly off of
his desk.

“Since when do I have to *tell* you that you can come in?” said Harry, not noticing
Hermione’s tone.

“I dunno,” she shrugged. “Maybe because I just have to keep listening to you don’t I?” She
walked in the room and closed the door, a bit harder than Harry was used to.

Harry didn’t understand what she was talking about and picked up Dan’s book once again. “It’s so
early Hermione.”

The look on her face told him that somehow that was a wrong statement to say. Harry quickly
tried to change the subject.

“How was the Ball?” he yawned. At first, Hermione didn’t answer him. She wore the same
expression as when Harry had opened the door. Harry, finally haven woken up almost to the extent,
noticed this for the first time. Her lack of an answer told him something was definitely wrong.

“The ball was fine,” said Hermione coolly. “But you don’t care if it was fun to me do you?”

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. He really had no idea where this was going. “What are you
talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid with me Harry Potter!” spat Hermione. “I know what you’ve been up to.”

Harry froze. Had she found out? Had she found out the one secret that he had been giving hints
to for years? He had prayed that one day Hermione would figure it out, being the clever witch she
was but he had never expected Hermione to be so upset at it. Deep down he knew there was some
danger in her being upset, but not like this! He was beginning to feel frightened…

“Hermione…” started Harry, “I didn’t mean for this to happen…”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” shouted Hermione. “You “accidentally” said those things?”

“No, I…”

Harry stopped. What *was* Hermione talking about? He had thought that she found out he had
been crushing on her for years but by her saying that he accidentally said something, whatever that
may have been, didn’t fit at all. “Wait a minute. *What* is it exactly that I said?”

“You being ignorant on purpose?” asked Hermione in a maddeningly voice.

Harry blinked at her with an expression he hadn’t given her since she was responsible for his
Firebolt broomstick being taken away in third year.

“No,” spat Harry. “And I don’t know what the heck you’re talking about Hermione.”

“You said nasty things Harry!” she preached. “Ernie and I were the talk if the whole Ball! ‘See!
Look who Hermione Granger is with now!’ and ‘Harry hates him so much because he stole Hermione away
from him’ and ‘Ernie is a no-good, rotten, pig-stealing freak and that Hermione better do the right
thing and dump his sorry…’”

“What the hell are you talking about!” shouted Harry at the top of his lungs.

“People at the Ball said you…!”

“I never said any of those things!” interrupted Harry, shouting so loudly that Hermione flinched
in the middle of her sentence, despite how upset she was. “I would NEVER say those things! And you
should know that! *You* especially!”

“*EVERYONE* was talking about it Harry!” retorted Hermione. “How that you and I went out as
friends couple of times to Hogsmeade and how you got jealous about Ernie asking me to the Ball
before you could…”

“I WASN’T JEALOUS OF ERNIE!” roared Harry. Though he did feel a little guilty about saying that
because it *was* true.

“*EVERYONE* was talking about it Harry!” said Hermione.

“You said that already!” slapped Harry.

“It’s you against the school Harry!”

“SO WHAT!?” screamed Harry. “You’re going to side with the majority of the school over 7 years
of friendship with me? I don’t believe you! That’s very un-Hermione like!”

“Then what is Harry!? Huh!? Tell me!?”

“I just don’t understand *why* you’re so upset!”

“I just don’t understand *why* you said those things!”

“THAT’S the thing! I *DIDN’T* say those things!”

There was a long and terrible silence between the both of them. Hermione, still red in the face,
had vary labored breathing. Harry on the other hand was scorching with anger.

“You know what Harry,” explained Hermione her tone a little softer but with the same maddening
vibe. “I finally find someone I like, you don’t like him, and what do you do? You call him names
because of it. *That’s* very un-Harry like to me.”

She turned on her heel and marched to the door, pausing for a moment.

“Oh yeah,” said Hermione coolly he back still to him, “Merry Christmas to you.” With that she
slammed the door behind her.

Harry sat there for a moment. Half of him frustrated and half of him confused. What the hell was
going on at the Ball?

“Oh yeah,” Harry retaliated, “I’ll give you a Merry Christmas.” He walked over to his closet to
pull out and item. He knew exactly what to do with them. All four of them…

**A/N: Well that’s all I have for now. Hopefully I’ll get the next chapter up soon. BTW did
this chapter make sense? I mean you know how it can be when you have an idea in your head and you
think you get it all out, but for some reason, I feel that I may have forgotten something or
something is still confusing…**



15. Almost Christmas Morning Folly
----------------------------------

**Chapter 15 - Almost Christmas Morning Folly**

Harry, still wearing his Hogwart’s uniform from the night before with a heavier and warmer robe,
stormed out of the Castle carrying two heavy bags by his side. The morning was light and the
atmosphere was that of a normal Christmas; the sun was just peeking over the horizon and the snow
from the night before was still fresh. It was hard to walk through the snow, especially carrying
two huge bags with you.

***

Harry was in a sweat by the time he had reached Lynda’s Wizard Anythings, however, there was
something he wasn’t really expecting: the store was open. He originally planned to just dump the
bags at the front door and leave. In fact, that’s just what he was about to do regardless the shop
being open or closed. Still, he had not seen Ashley, the worker of the store in quite sometime. He
decided to say hello and to drop the bags off as well, plus he would give Ashley an explanation as
to why she would have found two bags abandoned at her door.

“Hey Ashley,” called Harry as he entered the shop, the door making the familiar dinging sound.
It wasn’t hard to spot her. She was at one corner of the shop, organizing presents and putting last
minute decorations on a Christmas Tree. The corner was probably the cleanest part of the store.
Shocked to hear her name, she quickly looked in the direction of Harry’s voice.

“Hi Harry!” beamed Ashley after seeing who it was. “What on Earth are you doing here?”

“I should be asking the same thing,” said Harry, careful not to step on anything that was on the
floor as he made his way to the cashier desk.

“You know, it a good thing that you came Harry. There’s something that you might like to hear…”
Ashley had just joined him when he put the two bags on the table with a loud thump.

“What’s that?” she asked, cutting her sentence short and looking very confused. “You’re not
planning on trading something again for a last minute Christmas present are you?” she said in a
joking way.

“Not this time,” sighed Harry. “I’ve come to make a return.”

“A return?” she asked, perplexed. “What and why are you returning something?”

Harry started to tell her about the argument he and Hermione had the night before.

“I’m very sorry about that Harry,” sympathized Ashley, “but what does this bag have to do with
anything?”

“I’ll give you one guess as to what’s in this bag,” said Harry firmly. “And it’s not the red
dress.”

Ashley looked to be in deep though, but after a few seconds, a look of realization appeared on
her face. She looked to be astonished and upset at the same time.

“You are not returning those books Harry! They’re for Hermione!”

“They were for Hermione,” corrected Harry. “Think of it as me giving it back to you. I don’t
need you to give me my money back. Just take them. After that little attitude from her, she doesn’t
deserve them!”

Ashley could only stare at Harry. She couldn’t believe that that one incident could make Harry
so upset that he was resort to rid of something that he really wanted to give away as a gift.
Still, she knew something that Harry did.

“Harry I need to tell you something,” she said quietly, as if she were to tell him something
that would make him even more upset. “Someone came in here last night. Well, two people
actually.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” spat Harry, keen on just leaving the bags and walking
out no matter what Ashley thought.

“Since the Christmas Ball went on last night,” explained Ashley, “Some stores were required to
stay open later than usual, just in case couples form the Ball wanted to hang out. And you’ll never
guess who ended up in here…”

“I don’t care…”

“…a girl in a elegant red dress and a boy who I assumed was her date.” This had finally caught
Harry’s attention. The girl and boy that had walked in was Hermione and Ernie.

“But how do you know that that was Herm…?”

“No one else has that dress within miles of here for one thing,” continued Ashley. “You were the
one that bought that dress for her and she walks in with it on. I realized that it was Hermione
when I saw the dress on her. ”

“So what does…?”

“I’m going to tell you something Harry, and I don’t want you to interrupt me until I am done
ok?”

She had his undivided attention.

“When they both walked in here, I just though they were just some couple from the Christmas
Ball, however, I noticed that red dress she had on. I remembered selling… sorry, trading… you a red
dress some time ago for a girl that you liked even though you were not attending with her. Just to
be sure, I made small talk. I asked them how they were doing, where they came from,… and their
names. The girl introduced herself as, Hermione! That’s when I knew that that girl had to be the
one you liked! She wandered around the store while her date stayed near the register. A little
while later, another boy walked in and up to her date, probably some friend of his but it looked
more of a messenger thing. They talked about something, though I wasn’t listening because I’m not
the one to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help but hear one of them say something like, “Harry’s jealous
of you and Harry thinks you stole Hermione from him and Harry thinks this and” blah blah blah. I’m
guessing either it was planned out that way, or maybe it was just a coincidence, but that’s how the
whole thing about you talking badly about him started. Hermione’s date told her, of course, and she
sort of went into a rage. She politely said thank you and left. I was worried that something were
to happen to you. As I can tell, by you coming in her with the intention of returning Hermione’s
gifts, tat something did happen.”

Harry didn’t say anything at first. What would he have to say? For one thing, it did sound like
some sort of plan, but then again, it sounded to be all one big misunderstanding. Harry was a bit
disappointed that Ernie didn’t start any of this, otherwise it would have been that much more fun
getting Hermione back. One thing was for sure: he had to apologize, to Hermione *and*
Ernie.

“This was my fault,” Harry said apathetically. “This was all one big misunderstanding…”

“As for returning your items Mr. Potter,” Ashley added in a businesslike way. “I’m afraid that
due to my no return policy, I’m unable to make the transaction, regardless you want your money back
or not.”

Harry, as if almost mechanically, reached into his robes and pulled out the manila envelope
Colin had given him last night. He took out the picture of Hermione in front of Ashley and looked
at it, as if how could he ever have been mad at such an angel. Ashley seemed to take great interest
in the picture more than Harry did.

“Oh that’s a beautiful picture!” she exclaimed. She snatched it form his hand and made her way
to the back of the store. “Wait here.”

Harry, taken aback at the picture snatching and looking very anxious, looked at the books inside
of the bag; another reminder of Hermione. “Hermione is going to love these…” he said, more to
himself than anything.

“Here we go,” jubilated Ashley, coming back from the employees only section. She handed back the
picture of Hermione to Harry, only there was a slight alteration to it.

He held a beautiful frame made of oak. It seemed to shine with the light outside and you could
still smell the freshness of the oak, as if the frame was made just seconds ago. It surrounded the
picture of Hermione, making the picture stand out and look more beautiful that ever.

“That frame guarantees lifetime protection of whatever picture is in it,” explained Ashley.

“But I have no money…”

“No charge,” smiled Ashley. “My Christmas gift to you.”

“Ashley I…”

“Don’t argue Harry,” she said seriously, though her smile was still evident. “I saw how happy
you were to receive the gift, so why don’t you give a gift, four of them to be exact, and see just
how happy one can get?”

Harry blinked at her. “Thanks.”



16. Christmas Spirit
--------------------

**A/N: Really really sorry about the last update… those “boxes” weren’t supposed to be a fancy
script, but I guess the site doesn’t support it… oh well… sorry no new chapter yet…**

**Chapter 16 - Christmas Spirit**

It was still very early when Harry returned to the Hogwarts Castle; seemed like no student was
up considering the usual exciting Christmas morning. He was dead tired by the time he had gotten
back that as soon as he got to his Head Boy room, he dropped the bags at the door and plopped face
first on his bed, trying to take a breather and to decide what he was going to do next.

One thing was for sure: he owed Ernie an apology. The rumor came (or whatever you wanted to call
it) from someone Harry did not know. Because of this, he really didn’t care what other people
thought of him, but he *did* car about what Hermione thought of him.

He felt a light bump on his bed, which meant that someone or something had just plopped on his
bed next to him. He sat up on his bed.

“Hedwig!” smiled Harry, almost giving her a hug. He had to restrain himself as he saw that she
still had some bandages on her from the eagle attack. “You’re ok!”

“Hi Harry,” hooted Hedwig. “Yes I’m fine. I was surprised Madam Pomfrey let me off so early.
Knowing her I would’ve been in there for ages! Probably because Christmas is here and she wanted me
to enjoy the holidays…”

“Yeah…” replied Harry half-heartedly.

“What’s wrong deary?” asked Hedwig, walking over the him and extending a wing on his arm. Harry
couldn‘t help but smile. Any girl who saw a white owl walk over to a human and put her wing on his
arm would make any girl squeal. Harry shook his head; he had the urge to play a hard hitting
Quidditch Match all of a sudden.

He told her about everything. From the time he left her in the hospital, to the Christmas Ball,
to the argument he and Hermione had, to his trip to Ashley’s shop, and back to the Castle
again.

“So what are you going to do then?” said Hedwig, perching on top of Harry’s arm on one foot.

“I’m going to deliver all my presents to everyone,” yawned Harry. Hedwig frowned at him; Harry’s
answer had not related at all to her question, which meant that something was *really*
bothering him. “You going to stay a while? I need to get this gifts to everyone before they wake
up.” Not waiting for a reply, he grabbed the first set of gifts from his closet…

***

Time seemed to go by more slowly as Harry played Santa. He walked aimlessly back and forth from
his Head Boy room closet to students’ dorms quite a few times to deliver presents. Some friends
were awake and he left them with the gifts. Others were asleep and he just quietly left the gifts
by their bedside. After walking who knows how many miles up and down the halls in the castle, Harry
inevitably had to make one final stop…

After knocking a few times, there was no answer at Hermione’s door. Why wasn’t she answering?
She was yelling at me not too long ago. Why won’t she answer? Harry tried again.

“Hermione,” he called apathetically. “It’s me. Can you open up please?” There was no answer. “I
know you’re mad at me, but can you be mad at me at some other time besides Christmas?” There was
still no answer.

Harry sighed and tried turning the door handle; surprisingly, he found it unlocked. He crept the
door open with a rusty squeak and peeked his head in.

Hermione was lying on her bed, apparently fast asleep. Harry walked in nervously and quietly
closed the door behind him. He couldn’t help but stare at her. She was lying on her back and she
was covered from her stomach down with her blanket. One arm lay hidden underneath the covers
somewhere and the other arm lay flat on her tummy. Her hair cascaded over the pillow and you could
see her chest heave up and down with every gentle breath she took. Harry tiptoed to her desk and
placed the two bags on top. They made a small rustling sound and Harry shot his head toward
Hermione; she adjusted a bit in her bed but she still lay asleep.

Harry remembered what Ashley had told him before he left: “You don’t have to say the books are
from you…” He thought for a moment and decided to at least make it known that the books were meant
for her. What would she think if she found two bags that magically appeared on her desk?

Harry stared at Hermione’s desk. Predictably, it was nice and neat. The workspace was clear and
everything was in reach. Fresh ink bottles were at hand followed by a Quill holder that looked a
lot like those things that Muggles put pens in. Harry cautiously opened a few drawers to find old
scratch parchment. After finding one successfully, he put it flat on the desk and “borrowed” a
quill and some ink. Just as he settled and was ready to write something, he realized that he had
searched so frantically, that he didn’t notice the rustling he was apparently making. So much noise
in fact that a voice came form his right.

“Harry?” said Hermione lazily, stretching and looking at him with one eye open. “What are you
doing here?”

Harry looked at her, disappointed with himself that he couldn’t have been quieter, no emotion in
his face, though sadness could have been there, to acknowledge that he heard her, but didn’t say
anything. He stared back at the parchment in front of him, thinking about what he was going to say.
He couldn’t hide that the books were from him anymore as Ashley had suggested. Hermione sat up in
her bed.

“Harry,” she said again, her tone getting to that when she was just yelling at him earlier
before. “If you’re not going to tell me what you’re doing in *my* room at *this* hour in
the morning, I’m afraid I’m going to ask you to leave.”

Harry looked at her one more time, only the look he gave her this time was sure to say that he
was sorry in one way or another. Before Hermione could say anymore, he sighed, turned back to the
parchment, dabbed the quill in the ink bottle, and wrote on the parchment:

**Merry Christmas, Hermione**

**Harry**

Satisfied with what he wrote, he dried the ink on the quill, put it back in its holder, closed
the ink bottle shut and put it back in its place, and moved the parchment right next to the two
bags. He walked to the door in a way you could tell that he was really tired, turned the door knob,
opened it slowly, stepped through the doorway and closed the door softly behind him, all without
looking at Hermione once, though he could feel her eyes on him the whole time. Whether it was
resentment he could not tell, but that didn’t matter.

Harry walked back to his room feeling very tired, his feet dragging under him. When he got
there, Hedwig was asleep on his desk, which made him want to sleep even more that he didn’t bother
to change into sleeping clothes. He got the newly framed picture Ashley had given him and placed it
on his nightstand right next to his desk. He climbed into bed and angled it so that you could only
see the picture if you were laying down in the bed. He smiled, took of his glasses, and placed it
next to the picture. He pulled up the covers over his shoulders and closed his eyes. He remembered
something else Ashley told him when she suggested he put the frame at that specific spot, “Last
person you see when you sleep, first person you see when you wake up”…

Harry drifted very quickly into a deep sleep.



17. Two Brown Bags
------------------

**Chapter 17 - Two Brown Bags**

Hermione, still sitting up in here bed and half covered in her pajamas, looked intently at the
two bags on her desk. They were pretty ordinary looking, like something a cashier would put into
after you bought something from a thrift store.

If he thinks he can *buy* my forgiveness, she said scornfully, he has another think coming.
Though she resented him going through means of bribery, she was still curious about what Harry had
left her. She pulled of her covers and walked over to her desk and stood before the two brown bags.
Between them was a note, clearly written by none other than Harry.

“‘Merry Christmas, Hermione’,” she read, picking it up from the desk. It seemed like something
Harry would do; she could almost hear him saying it right next to her. Hermione’s bad mood seemed
to subside a little…

She put the note down on the side and pulled out the wrapper covering her gift in the bag…

***

Though Harry lay in his bed fast asleep and motionless, his mind tinkered subconsciously, as if
it were a person hard at work.

I can’t believe this is it, he thought to himself, his breathe labored and slow. I can’t believe
that its finally over.

He had spent the last two years of his life, devoting it entirely to get Hermione’s love and
affection; to at least get her attention! It was hard work, and quite frankly, if he had the
chance, he would have done it again. But still, he couldn’t help but feel very sorry for
himself.

Hermione was a great and intelligent witch. She could solve mysteries by herself, and even do
spells that she was to young to even hear of. So why hadn’t she noticed Harry’s constant “more than
friends” signals that he was giving her? Was it too much? Too little? Something definitely was
wrong; Hermione was way to smart to not be getting the picture. Or was she as thick as she was
clever?

All those little things that came along with Harry’s heart seemed to go to waste. The gifts, the
complements, the flowers, the dates in the end seemed to make no difference whatsoever between
Harry and Hermione.

Why was it then that Hermione seemed to not be getting the picture? Many thoughts flooded his
head from her just being as thick as Ron, to liking someone else, to strictly because she did not
see him in that way. He could feel his heart tearing away bit by bit. This was it. It was settled.
Hermione simply did not like him the way he liked her. She really seemed to show interest in Ernie
MacMillian, so probably that’s where her heart stood firmly; there was no reason to be continuing
his little crusade to get Hermione to notice him. Not only would it make him look stupid and just
keep hurting himself, Hermione must’ve felt very uncomfortable, so uncomfortable that she could not
even tell him that she didn’t like him in that way. Harry Potter was giving up…

It‘s over then, Harry told himself in his sleep. It was worth just loving Hermione, romantic or
not…

Harry remembered reading something in Secrets of Potions: Made Easy. It was a section about Love
Potions. There was a disclaimer at the tope that said something of the lines of, ‘before resorting
to use *any* type of Love Potion, make sure that you are *certain* you want to use it,
because there is no turning back. We are not responsible for any damages, injuries, and/or deaths
caused by the misuse of Love Potions.’ Harry also remembered a little authors note at the bottom of
the disclaimer. He could remember it vividly:

‘Would you rather have someone love you for who you really are? Or have someone love you because
they are under some sort of spell? If the one you seek love from is not giving love in return, just
relax, and let the love grow in his or her heart. If it does, more the better for you. If it
doesn’t, I’m very sorry, however, be grateful it grew in yours! Love is meant to develop in the
heart, not to have the heart tricked in to loving.”

Harry unknowingly smiled slightly, yet sadly, into his pillow, a silent single tear rolling down
the side of his face.

***

Hermione could not believe her eyes. She stared intently inside one of the brown bags and found
herself looking at two very thick, very large books. It was labeled *Hogwart’s: A Revised History
Vol: I* on one side of it. It couldn’t be…

She reached in with a trembling hand and pulled out one of the enormous books in the bag. It was
very heavy and bounded in a fresh smell of brand new, dark blue leather. On the cover etched
*Hogwart’s: A Revised History Vol: I* in fancy gold calligraphy. Hermione had to close her
mouth a couple of times. She ran her fingers across the front of the book, tracing the letters with
her fingers.

At first, she couldn’t believe or think of what to say. This was unbelievable! And where on
earth did Harry get something like this? It wasn’t to be release until months later…

She reached back in the bag and took out volume two of the series, peered into the other brown
back and sure enough, there were volumes three and four. She stacked books two, three, and four on
top of each other and sat back down on the bed, holding volume 1 in her arms, hugging it to her
chest.

What was going on? They were both yelling and screaming at each other like hated enemies just
the day before. Why was it that it hurt so much to yell at him? It was easy doing it with Ron, but
every time she and Harry fought, it felt… disastrous… wrong… *painful.* She remembered back in
fifth year when Harry was particularly moody and seemed to take out his anger on her. She could
understand that; he had every right to be upset. But upset for… she couldn’t even remember what
they had been yelling to each other about. She shut her eyes, and a few silent tears flowed freely
down her cheek.

Harry Potter, the boy who lived, youngest Seeker in a century. That’s what everyone saw him as.
Hermione could admit that’s how she had saw him too at one point, but after having been saved by
the troll and getting to know him, there was Harry… just Harry. That’s how she had always saw him.
And even though through thick and then, and times where she *knew* she irritated him, and even
though she had a row with him as well, Harry still found it in his heart to show that he still
cared, even though she wouldn’t listen; There were four very thick and very heavy objects in front
of her to prove it.

Hermione could feel her lips twitch, curving slightly at the corners of her mouth and for the
first time in a very long time, she was smiling. She dashed out of her room with *Hogwart’s: A
Revised History Vol: I* tucked under her arm and headed straight to Harry’s room, keen to go on
and apologize and to thank him herself for the wonderful gift.

**A/N: I am dreadfully sorry for the serious lack of updates. School and college is a real
pain, especially if you didn’t do as well as you thought you were going to do. But I hope you enjoy
this one, though I’m sure that it could’ve been much better somehow, I just really couldn’t put it
in writing.**

**Make sure you guys watch PoA and support H/Hr all the way! Love you all!!!**



18. Harry Sleeps
----------------

**Chapter 18 - Harry Sleeps**

“Harry?” said Hermione, after knocking on his Head Room door. There was no answer. “Harry,” she
tried again and still there was no answer from Harry or anyone else who could’ve been in that room.
She knew he was in there. She could feel it…

As if it were the most natural thing to do, Hermione turned to check the doorknob. Surprisingly,
it was unlocked. She slowly pushed the door open with a small creek and peered inside. She saw
Harry lying on the bed and Hedwig stood at his desk, fast asleep, her head under her wing.

Hermione crept over to the side of Harry’s bed, first glancing at Hedwig and noting how cute she
looked, then looked down at Harry with a somewhat disappointed look on her face. She sighed sadly.
She thought about what she was going to do as she hugged the one of the books he had given to her
for Christmas to her chest. How was she going to thank him now?

She could easily thank him later, but she really insisted on telling him now. Harry deserved,
not only a thank you, but also an apology from her stupid actions and yelling at him for who knows
what; however, she really didn‘t want to wake him either. Harry shifted in his sleep, which
startled Hermione a bit and she held her breath. Would he retaliate for her yelling at him just
like when he had snuck in her room?

Staring down at him, she watched Harry in his sleep. He looked like he was in a very comfortable
snuggling position under his blanket that was covering him from the neck down. You could see the
blanket rise and fall with every slow steady breath he took. Hermione shook her head sadly; whether
she liked it or not, she was going to have to talk to him later. When that was, she didn’t
know.

“I’m so sorry Harry…” whispered Hermione apologetically, as if he could hear her. “I’ve been so
stupid. I hope you can forgive me…” Harry still lay in his bed, unaware of anything going on around
him.

“Good night Harry,” sighed Hermione sadly, turning around and helping herself out the door,
still hugging the book to her chest. It was too bad Harry didn’t hear him, but a certain white and
nocturnal creature did…

***

Hedwig, who had heard the door creak open, popped open one eye to look who the intruder was. She
discreetly kept her eye open at bay, occasionally closing it when Hermione looked her way, to see
what she was up to.

Hermione wasn’t in the room for a very long time, but she was in long enough for Hedwig to hear
every single word Hermione had said.

“That Hermione,” Hedwig thought to herself. “Knows where her heart stands… if only she
*knew* who it was… and he sleeps right in front of her.” Hedwig shifted warmly in her spot,
hoping that Hermione didn’t see her.

“Oh Harry,” thought Hedwig again. “If only you could see Hermione now…” Just as she herself left
the room and closed the door behind her with a small click…

**A/N: Yes yes I know, it’s a very short chapter and I apologize for that. From now on
(hopefully), the story should pick up from here. And maybe a little treat on things to come so if
you don’t want to be spoiled, don’t scroll to far down…**

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**As the story progresses…**

**There will be a Valentines Day Dance…**

**Harry will speak to his new younger friend…**

**Hermione will finally see all… how? Let’s just say there’s a magical way… that Secret’s of
Potions: Made Easy wasn’t mentioned in the story or no reason you know…**



19. Day and a Half Later
------------------------

**Chapter 19 - Day and a Half Later**

It was very late in the day the next day when Harry woke up. He sleepily glanced at the picture
of Hermione on his desk and sat up. It was snowing softly outside, covering the grounds with white
everywhere. There was a tapping noise on his window, which automatically told him that it was
Hedwig.

“Open Harry!” she said, though her voice was muffled behind the glass. Harry put on his glasses
and sprang out of bed to the window; he felt the piercing cold for a moment to let Hedwig in and
slammed the window shut allowing some of the snow to sprinkle on the floor. “Thank you…” She flew
on top of Harry’s desk and shook, making a little more flecks of snow go on his desk.

“What were you doing out there anyway?” yawned Harry, his sudden adrenaline rush to get Hedwig
inside suddenly gone. He sat down on his bed and looked at her. “It’s *freezing!”*

“Just thought I’d fly a little,” said Hedwig matter-of-factly. “You know - to kill time…”

Harry smiled. He felt so happy to be rested that he didn’t notice Hedwig’s feeble way of being
peculiar. “You’re one weird owl, Hedwig. Don’t you hibernate like the rest of the species?”

“You were asleep for a long time Harry,” said Hedwig, ignoring him. “It’s very relevant,
considering that you weren’t hurt in any way.” Harry grinned knowingly; the only times he had ever
slept for long periods were when he had been seriously injured. “I see you gave Hermione the
books…”

Harry’s face fell slightly. “Yeah I did…” He chuckled pathetically to himself. “Not even a thank
you…”

“Ah, but you are wrong Mr. Potter!” said Hedwig dignitly. “Hermione was in here…”

“When…? Where - ? How - ?”

“When you were sleeping,” said Hedwig, smiling at Harry. She told him how she had awoken and
inconspicuously watched Hermione enter the room.

“She’s not mad then…?” asked Harry softly.

“Of course not Harry,” assured Hedwig. “She sort of talked to you in your sleep. Said something
about being sorry and wanting to thank you for the gift you gave her. She seemed very keen to talk
to you, you know. She just didn’t want to wake you up and I praise her for that. She knew that you
were going through a lot, more than she knew anyway…”

Harry smiled again. How did such an outrageous owl like her end up with him?

“So I guess,” said Harry tentatively, reading the look on Hedwig’s face, “that I’m going to have
to go talk to her then?”

“Finally!” said Hedwig jovially. “Now you’re starting to make sense! Hermione’s in her room, you
know, just thought you’d want to know… ”

***

After getting dressed, Harry walked nervously toward Hermione’s room, running through what he
was going to say to her in his head carefully since he wanted to make sure that this was going to
go on smoothly and painlessly as possible. He stopped in front of Hermione’s door, took a deep
breath and knocked. He could hear some sort of clambering behind the door and after a few seconds,
the door sprang open and there was Hermione, dressed casually and looking as pretty as ever.

“Hi,” said Harry awkwardly. It was like talking to a complete stranger all of a sudden. He could
feel heat rise to his face. Hermione gave him a hopeful and shy no-toothed smile.

“You’re talking to me again,” she said, more in a hopeful way than a statement.

“Can I… come in? That is only if you’re not busy” added Harry, looking apprehensive.

“No, come in,” said Hermione. Her voice was calm and careful, like she was watching what she was
saying. Harry stared around her room. It very much fitted her personality; there were rows of books
everywhere and everything was neat and organized, just how he remembered it when he was in there
to, at the time, to leave the books discreetly for her.

“Hermione -”

But at that moment he had turned around to talked to her, she flung herself forward and threw
her arms around his neck, shaking slightly. Harry stumbled backward a bit, taken aback by her
sudden action. “What - ?”

“I’m so sorry Harry!” said Hermione into his upper shoulder. She wasn’t crying but her words
sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

“Oh Hermione,” said Harry comfortingly, rubbing his hand up and down her back.

“It’s all my fault!” she said hysterically, her voice sort of muffled by his shoulder. “I was
being really stupid and I shouldn’t have reacted that way! I should have been more understanding
and more aware of your feelings! I didn’t mean to yell at you like that when you came into my room.
I just wasn’t thinking clearly, it must have been so early in the morning and…”

“Hermione!” said Harry, almost laughing. She had said that all very fast in a whimpering sort of
way, something that Harry found very cute.

“Harry I’m so s -”

“Forget it,” said Harry.

“No really, I shouldn’t have acted -”

“I said forget it,” said Harry in a final sort of way. Hermione looked up at him, her eyes shiny
with tears, and smiled at him. She let go of him, sat on her bed and hugged her knees to her
chest.

“Thanks for the books Harry,” said Hermione, her voice still soft and shaky from tears.

Harry grinned sheepishly at her. “I knew you’d like them…”

“They’re wonderful!” said Hermione, her voice gradually getting in high spirits. “It’s like
*Hogwarts: A History* but much better! There are some old things in there, and there are new
things in there too! I even think it mentions us somewhere in there!”

Harry’s grin got a little bigger, still showing no teeth. “I’m glad you like them…”

“I love them!” exclaimed Hermione. “But -”

Harry, still smiling at Hermione with his no toothed smile, raised his eyebrows amusingly very
slightly. He knew what she was going to ask.

“Those books are not to be released until much later! Where on earth did you get them?”

Harry finally smiled fully at Hermione, hoping that he didn’t too stupid. “That’s my little
secret.”

Hermione frowned. “I hope you didn’t do anything *illegal* to get them!”

“Of course not!” said Harry astonished. “Let’s just say that I got very lucky in meeting new
people.” He sat himself on Hermione’s bed, right next to her.

“Those books are wonderful Harry,” Hermione smiled back at him, believing what he had said about
the books. “How can I ever thank you enough?”

“You already have Hermione… Trust me, you have,” added Harry, seeing Hermione look very unsure.
“You and I being back on good terms again is more than enough to thank me.”

“I hope you can forgive me?”

“Already have.”

There was a pause in which Hermione got off the bed and grabbed *Hogwart’s: A Revised History
Vol II* off her desk and joined Harry back on the bed. She flipped through a few pages and
stopped when she had apparently saw something of great interest and began to read, her eyes darting
across the page.

“You’ve read the first one already!?” said Harry incredulously.

“Just last night,” said Hermione indifferently. “I couldn’t put it down…”

“Apparently not…”

“You were asleep for a long time Harry,” said Hermione out of nowhere, stopping her reading to
look at him with concern. “About a day and a half. Are you feeling ok?”

“Fine,” assured Harry. “I was just very tired that’s all.”

“How are you feeling now?” asked Hermione, still apprehensive.

“Rested,” said Harry truthfully. “Looks like I’m going to be ok.”

There was a another pause in which Hermione stared at him, as if she was some amazing doctor
that could tell how a person was feeling by simply looking at them. She sighed satisfactorily and
put her attention back to *Hogwart’s: A Revised History Vol II*. Suddenly there was a knock on
the door.

“Come in,” said Hermione, not looking up from her book.

“Oh there he is!” said Ron coming into the room hand-in-hand with Rachel, dragging her. He
looked at Harry. “I thought you were still in bed. Are you sick or something?”

“He’s not,” said Hermione, before Harry could answer, looking up from her book.

“Are those the books that Harry gave you?” asked Rachel, looking at the extraordinary spine on
the book, as if it were bewitched to grow.

“Yes!” said Hermione, her face glowing. “They’re wonderful aren’t they?”

“I’m sure they are,” said Ron sarcastically. Hermione glared at him and returned to her book.
“Anyways Harry,” he said, ignoring Hermione and still holding Rachel’s hand, “you all right?”

“Yeah, I‘m fine.” said Harry, yawning and scratching the back of his head. “So what have I
missed since I’ve been out? Anything important?”

“Just one thing,” answered Ron.

“What?”

“Well, you remember that thing where Dumbledore randomly selects whether a Ball will be formal
attire and if partners are required?” asked Rachel.

“There’s another Ball coming up?” said Harry, half exasperated.

“A Valentines Day Ball,” explained Rachel, standing on tiptoe and kissing Ron.

Harry turned away awkwardly and stole a glance over at Hermione, her nose still buried into some
page of *Hogwart’s: A Revised History Vol II.* She looked very indifferent at the matter. Ron
and Rachel turned both their attention back to Harry.

“So what’s the requirements of it?” he asked.

“Semi-casual and partners are optional,” said Rachel, now clutching onto Ron’s arm.

Harry found himself frowning, as though he were in deep concentration about something. “It’s
sort of funny isn’t it? How this one where its supposed to be a *Valentines* Day Ball only to
find that a *Valentine* isn’t needed to attend.”

“Got any idea on who’re going to ask Harry?”

Oh Harry knew exactly who he *wanted* to ask, but there was something deep down in his gut
that didn’t feel right. Something deep down that told him something strange. Something that told
him that…

“If you really want to know, Ernie asked me, all right!” said Hermione exasperatedly, not taking
her eyes of the book. Ron looked taken aback by her answer.

“I was just *asking*,” he said. “No need to blow up at me!”

“You know Ronald,” said Rachel with patience in her voice. “You can be a bit irritating at
times, especially when you ask something…”

“Thank you Rachel,” said Hermione coolly.

Apparently Ron had asked Hermione who she was going to the ball with. He opened and closed his
mouth a few times as if he wanted to say something, but decided best not to. He looked very
uncomfortable and looked to change the subject.

“Who do you want to ask Harry?” asked Rachel, looking at him interestingly.

It was Harry’s turn to look uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to tell us Harry,” came Hermione’s voice, very calm and very supporting. The
book lay closed on her lap now and she gave him all of her attention. “Why don’t you surprise
us?”

He looked at her thankfully and appraisingly. “Ok I will…”

***

Harry was pacing back and forth in his Head Boy room while Hedwig watched him on top of his
desk. His hands were behind his back and he was staring at the ground with a glum look. Hedwig
couldn’t take it any longer.

“What troubles you Harry?”

He went on to explain about the Ball conversation he, Ron, Hermione, and Rachel had in
Hermione’s room.

“What is it about that that makes you sad?” said Hedwig, looking at him with concern. “This is
your chance.”

“There is no chance,” said Harry, finally sitting on his bed, resting his elbows on his knees,
and putting his head in his hands. “Once again Ernie has beat me to it…”

“Oh I’m so sorry Harry…”

“Don’t be,” said Harry still staring down at the floor. “It’s not your fault.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s bothering you is it?” said Hedwig, as if looking right through
him. “There’s something else…”

Harry stood up and walked apathetically over to his desk where Hedwig was standing and sat in
his chair, crossing his arms and resting them on the desk, looking deep into the amber eyes of
Hedwig.

“I’ve been thinking about the status between Hermione and me,” said Harry tentatively.

“What’s to think about?” said Hedwig, her eyes going wide with surprise. “You two are best of
friends and nothing is going to change that not even…”

“Not even if I’m in love with Hermione?”

Hedwig gazed back at Harry, unsure of where this conversation was going. She frowned at him.

“Will our friendship change, should Hermione know that I am in love with her?” said Harry, his
face not showing a sign of happiness.

“Of course it will! It’ll be excellent because she’ll love you back and -!”

“I’m talking about her *not* liking the idea of me being in love with her.”

“But Harry -”

“No, listen Hedwig,” said Harry, his voice strong and stable. “Doesn’t it seem odd that these
past few years that I have liked Hermione, she has not shown a sign of returned love interest to
me? Doesn’t it seem strange that I get no response from her whatsoever, from the compliments I give
her, the dates I’ve taken her on, the gifts I’ve given her, the hints of love I’ve been gshowing
her?”

Hedwig still looked at Harry, looking very concerned and keen to hear more of what Harry had to
say because she knew he wasn’t done yet.

“These past two years have been really hard on me, trying so hard to get a girl to notice you
and getting no response. It’s almost as if… she doesn’t *want* to see my hints of love…”

Harry tore his gaze from Hedwig; he could feel his eyes getting moist.

“Why didn’t I see it sooner? Why didn’t I get it the first few times Hermione didn’t say
anything to me? I’ve only been hurting myself the whole time…”

Hedwig ruffled her feathers uncomfortablely. “What are you saying Harry?”

“Certainly Hermione noticed every single thing that I did!” said Harry, looking hopeful. “Nobody
can be *that* thick can they?”

“I don’t think -”

“I don’t think that my effort to make Hermione notice that I like her as more than a friend is
working,” said Harry sadly, looking at the smooth surface of his desk now.

“What are you saying Harry?”

He didn’t say anything. He just wet his lips and drooped his head more, till his chin almost
touched his chest.

“What are you saying Harry?” repeated Hedwig, thought she knew what he was going to say…



20. Great Hall, Sleeping, Question, and Book
--------------------------------------------

**Chapter 20 - Great Hall, Sleeping, Question, and Book**

Harry abruptly stood up out of his chair, turned his back to Hedwig, and looked through the
window behind his desk. He sighed and put his hands in his pockets nonchalantly and stared out into
the cold winter grounds. There were some students outside, enjoying some winter fun in the snow.
Some were making snowmen, some were having snowball fights, and some were ice skating on top of the
frozen lake. Harry, for a fleeting second had the memory of walking the outer edges of that lake
with Hermione in their fourth year, during a time when Harry’s supposedly most loyal friend wasn’t
talking to him.

“I’m giving up Hedwig,” said Harry, in a rather pathetic way. He continued to watch the grounds,
not wanting to look directly at Hedwig.

He could hear Hedwig sigh disapprovingly from behind him. “Is that what you really want to do?
You want to not love Hermione anymore?”

“No it’s not that!” said Harry, turning around and finally facing Hedwig. “I’m not giving up on
loving her. I’ll still love her… there’s no stopping that… I’m just saying that… I give up in
trying to make her notice me…”

Hedwig looked at Harry much like a loving mother would do should her child be suffering. Harry
was staring contently at Hedwig, not wanting to break the gaze any further. He looked so vulnerable
and helpless behind those glasses and his eyes were glossy with tears. She could see that he was
serious about this, yet it looked like it took a lot of will power to say it, and with every word
he had said, it looked like it caused him a lot of pain.

Harry slumped back into his chair, crossed his arms on the table, and rested his chin on them.
He closed his eyes and his head swayed slightly. Hedwig walked to him and got as close as possible,
putting a comforting wing on his shoulder. It was this that made Harry release himself and to let
everything go. It was this that told him that everything was going to be ok and it was going to be
all right. Harry could feel tears roll silently down his cheeks.

“It’ll be ok Harry,” said Hedwig softly and very comfortingly. If she could hug him, she would
have. “It’ll be ok…”

***

January was approaching and the end of the holidays was drawing to a close. It was early in the
morning and Harry was alone in the Great Hall again for breakfast, looking at *Secrets of
Potions: Made Easy.* There were some interesting potions in there: there were simple ones that
made you fall asleep to some advanced potions that made people fall in love.

Harry grinned. Love potions were banned from use in Hogwarts.

A great white owl swooped down suddenly on the table where Harry was, causing his goblet to
stir, his plate to tinkle and a few pages to ruffle.

“Hi Hedwig,” said Harry, looking up from his book to look at her.

“Hi Harry,” said Hedwig, shaking and ruffling her feathers. “You feeling ok?”

This was what Hedwig always asked everytime she had come in contact with Harry. It had been a
few days since Harry had “given up” on Hermione, and it looked that Harry was not getting any
better. He looked tired and worn, his eyes baggy and his hair was sticking out in more directions
than usual.

“I’m wonderful,” answered Harry airily with no tone of “wonderfulness” in there. “I’ve never
felt better.”

“Still can’t sleep?” said Hedwig, looking sideways at him.

“Not to a normal sleeping schedule,” yawned Harry, glancing back to *Secrets of Potions: Made
Easy* for a second. “I’m sleeping all over the place and at weird times. I found myself sleeping
on couches, in the library, with my head on my desk, and there was one time where I fell asleep
standing up while leaning against a wall!”

Hedwig tried to hide a smile. “You seem to handle your situation with Hermione very well.”

“I have to don’t I?” said Harry matter-of-factly. “I don’t want to show any type of less than
normal emotion toward her or to anybody. I don’t want them asking questions.”

“So you’ve been putting on an act then?” she asked. “Can I have some of this?” She was motioning
to his goblet of orange juice.

“Sure, go ahead,” offered Harry. “And yes, I guess you can say that I’ve been putting on an
act…”

Hedwig had finished drinking out of Harry’s goblet. “And what is it about that book that you
find so interesting?” She noticed Harry looking intently at it. “I hope you’re not turning into
Hermione.”

“This book has interesting potions in here,” said Harry, not taking his eyes of the book. He
grinned to himself; he was starting to sound like Hermione. “I’m looking at one particular one in
here…”

“It’s not a love potion is it?” said Hedwig darkly.

“Of course not Hedwig! Just listen to this.” Harry shifted in his seat and began to read to
her.

*“While there is no real name for this particular potion, it is usually referred to as the
“Reliving Potion”. What this potion does, should one brew it correctly, is make one who takes the
potion relive past events in ones own life. After the potion is taken, should one close his or her
eyes, he or she will be able to relive past moments in time (how far back is explained in the
instructions) as if the person were having a dream about it, only that compared to a normal dream,
you feel see and feel everything that had happened in the desired past moment. For example, ever
wondered what it felt like to have your very first birthday, when you were far too young to
remember? Or ever want to remember what it felt like to go on a very exciting trip?”*

*“This potion is strictly for entertainment purposes only. It should be noted that this is a
very advanced potion to make, considering it found in this book. The only risks are not brewing the
potion properly (which can lead to only very minor side effects). For best results, take the potion
just before bed.”*

Harry finished and looked back at Hedwig. She looked very confused at the matter.

“So what is it that you want to relive Harry?” she asked, frowning.

“I’ll tell you when I relive it,” said Harry, stowing away the book to one side, and finishing
his cereal. “It says that the potion is advanced and that it’ll take quite a while for it to brew.
It states that it is a distant relative to the Polyjuice Potion.”

“You’re not telling me that you actually want to make this thing do you?” said Hedwig as if the
idea of it were mad.

“Of course I do,” said Harry, ignoring Hedwig’s attempt to persuade him not to do it.

“What are you going to get out of this Harry?” asked Hedwig, trying to reason with him.

Harry couldn’t believe at how hostile Hedwig was on the matter. It wasn’t like it was dangerous
or something like that. It had clearly stated that for an advanced potion, the risks were very
little.

“I’m just going to keep myself occupied with this potion,” said Harry, as if that saying it
would settle the matter.

“I just don’t want you wasting your time on something where you’re not going to get anything
significant out of it!” said Hedwig, almost pleadingly now.

“You said to keep myself occupied with activities so that I can sort of take my mind off of
Hermione,” said Harry coolly.

“But… but…”

“I’m going to keep myself occupied with this potion, take it myself, and hopefully relive some
past memories that I miss,” said Harry in a final sort of way, though with the respect that one
would talk to his mother in.

Over the next half hour or so, the Great Hall started filling in with students still looking
tired from just waking up. Harry was the only one in there that looked to be the most awake out of
everyone. That was saying something, since Harry was not getting any sleep at all. There were
chunks of students here and there, leaving large gaps of spaces between groups of students. One
person decided to join Harry in his secluded space at his table.

“Hi Hermione,” said Harry, smiling at her and looking from his bowl of cereal.

“Morning Harry,” smiled Hermione, sitting on his right. She propped her head against her hand
and yawned. She looked very tired herself

“She looks so beautiful, doesn’t she Harry?” hooted Hedwig teasingly.

“Shut up Hedwig!” Harry hooted back, almost smiling because Hedwig knew that it was what Harry
was thinking.

“Hi Hedwig,” said Hermione, smiling at her and stroking her wing with her free hand. “I’d always
thought it was cute how you two hoot to each other like that,” added Hermione, now looking at Harry
but still stroking Hedwig.

“Just a little fun pet thing she and I do,” said Harry playfully, almost blushing. “It’ll be
kind of sad you know, having a friend for about 7 years and not have a conversation with each
other.”

Hermione giggled and continued to stoke away at Hedwig. There was a long silence and Harry took
the opportunity to finish his cereal.

“You’re up early… again,” said Hermione next to him. She had stopped stoking Hedwig and he also
noticed how close she had scooted to him now; their shoulders were almost touching.

“I can’t sleep,” said Harry, almost dreadfully. It was no use trying to hide his tiredness from
her; she could see right through him. He could feel the warmth coming from Hermione’s body.

“Are you feeling all right?” asked Hermione with concern, scooting over to him closer. She put
her left arm around him and rested her hand on his shoulder and put her right hand to his forehead.
Harry closed his eyes intoxicatingly and took a quick intake of air that was barely audible as she
made contact. He could feel a tingling sensation from the tips of his hair run through his body all
the way down to his feet. It felt so good to be touched by Hermione. “Yes… I feel ok…”

“You don’t seem to have a fever…”

Harry gulped and concentrated on the sensation of Hermione’s hands. Whether or not she was
touching his shoulder and his forehead didn’t matter; the skin on skin contact with Hermione was
something that he loved, something that he hadn’t felt in a long time, something that he almost had
forgotten about. His breathing was low, soft, and deep.

“Harry?”

He fluttered his eyes open and turned slightly to Hermione. She was smiling sheepishly at him,
one of those cute “Hermione can only do” smiles. He also become aware that Hermione had not let go
of him. It was a good thing she didn’t have a hand on his chest, otherwise she could feel how fast
his heart was beating.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” she asked, half smiling at him and still not letting go. “You don’t
feel sick, but you look drowsy.”

“It’s… it’s too early in the morning,” replied Harry stupidly. He was looking in her eyes now
and noticed that she had very subtle and very little, light freckles on her face.

“I bet you’re just thinking about something before you go to sleep,” said Hermione, finally
breaking her hold on him. “You just have insomnia.”

Harry groaned softly so that Hermione didn’t hear him. No, don’t let go…

“Could I have some of that?” asked Hermione. She was motioning toward his goblet of orange
juice.

“Sure,” said Harry gratefully, yawning softly at the same time. “You can finish it if you
want.”

He had expected Hermione to take the goblet and to create space that was once between them.
Instead, she reached for the goblet and brought it to her mouth, her seat planted firmly into the
spot very close to him. Harry became aware of how self-conscious he was getting; Hermione being
this close was particularly dangerous. He pretending to be eating his cereal, but watched through
the corner of his eye Hermione drink out of his goblet. Her eyes were closed and her hair falling
back from her face as she tilted the goblet toward her. When did Hermione look so pretty drinking
out of a goblet? When she lowered it from her face with a satisfying sigh, having finished drinking
all of the orange juice, Harry again expected her to create the space that was once between them.
Instead, she put the goblet back down on the table and stayed firmly in her spot, still very close
to him.

“Thank you…” she said appreciatively, almost distantly.

But Harry was surprise by something else instead; she had scooted even closer to him now that
the sides of both of their bodies were completely touching; it was like they were joined at the
hip. She sighed lazily, leaned toward him, and rested her head on his shoulder.

“You don’t mind, do you Harry?” said Hermione sleepily. Harry couldn’t see her eyes, but he was
pretty sure that they were drooping.

“No, I don’t mind,” said Harry, his voice a little higher than usual. “I don’t mind at all…”

He felt the same tingling sensation course through his body. The height was perfect for her to
rest her head on his shoulder and it fit perfectly into the spot like a piece of a puzzle. He could
have sworn he felt Hermione snuggle closer to him; her bushy hair just grazing his face.

“I’m so tired…” she whispered, more to herself than anything. Harry felt her close her eyes and
gulped again, just as he caught Hedwig’s eye. She had watched everything and there was an amused
expression on her face.

“Giving up are we Harry?” hooted Hedwig, smiling knowingly at Harry. “I’ll leave you two alone
then.” And before he could answer, she spread her wings and swooped out of the Great Hall, making a
rush of wind sweep at Harry and Hermione, brushing some hair out of her face. Hermione seemed
indifferent about Hedwig’s departure and decided to snuggle in response.

“Mmm…” he heard her say.

Harry looked down at her again. Her breathing was slow and deep, like she was trying to fall
asleep. It felt so right… so perfect…

He could feel eyes upon the pair of them and quickly glanced around the Great Hall. Sure enough
there were eyes from all around the other house tables piercing in their direction. Some of them
(most of them girls) were giggling and whispering behind their hands. Others looked to have an
amused expression while others looked indifferent.

Harry chose to ignore them, but he liked the attention he and Hermione were getting. He betted
it looked so cute seeing the two of them sitting there alone with Hermione resting her head on
Harry’s shoulder. He wondered what they all were thinking. Like they were boyfriend and
girlfriend…

He shook his head out of his trance, pushed away his bowl of cereal, and grabbed *Secrets of
Potions: Made Easy* to occupy himself, from the staring eyes. As much as he wanted to go out
with Hermione, she wasn’t his girlfriend and she never was. He grinned; he remembered telling
people time and time again in fourth year that Hermione wasn’t his girlfriend. Now he wished he
hadn’t said anything at all. He could feel someone walking toward them.

“Hi Harry,” said Rachel. She had made her way from the Ravenclaw table and sat across them in in
their secluded area. The closest student was about ten feet away. She looked like she was one of
the girls that were amused, but not giggling. Harry put a forefinger to his lips.

“She’s sleeping,” whispered Harry, motioning toward Hermione. He could feel her body rise and
fall with every breath. He saw Rachel glance at Hermione and smile.

“You two are so cute,” she said, smiling in a way a girl would if she saw something cute. Harry
turned to his book, hoping that she didn’t see the heat rise in his face. “Have you seen
Ronald?”

“Still sleeping I think,” said Harry, half glancing at her from his book, still aware of the
heat in his face.

“Mind if I ask you something?” asked Rachel, leaning closer over the table, making sure that no
one in the vicinity could hear.

“Sure,” said Harry, looking up from *Secrets of Potions: Made Easy.*

“You remember when I asked you who you wanted to take to the Valentines Ball?” whispered Rachel,
glancing at Hermione to make sure she hadn’t woken up. Hermione slept peacefully, her breathing low
and soft. Harry nodded.

“Who *did* you want to take, Harry?” asked Rachel, though she looked as though she knew the
answer.

He blinked. It believed that it was just Hedwig who knew his secret crush on Hermione. He had
never thought of telling anyone else, but everyone else was also staring at them in the Great Hall.
Harry hesitated to tell Rachel.

“I won’t say anything,” said Rachel, reading his expression perfectly. “I promise.”

Harry sighed at her and gave a lop-sided smile. He looked at Hermione for a second then back at
Rachel, gave a thought for another second and another final sigh, as if the take the anxiety away.
“Her,” he mouthed, tilting his head ever so slightly to Hermione’s sleeping head.

Rachel smiled, followed by a look of sympathy.

“Oh, you poor thing!” sighed Rachel, looking very sorry for Harry. “It’s too bad Ernie already
asked her…” Harry looked very sullen at those words and Rachel rushed to change the subject. “How
long have you wanted to ask Hermione?”

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but closed it almost as quickly. He was going to say that he
wanted to go out with her two years ago, but thought better of it. He had shared a secret with
Rachel, but he didn’t want to share the *entire* secret.

“Recently,” lied Harry, turning back to his book to hide his blush. Hermione shifted in her
position, but stayed asleep on his shoulder.

“You better keep you’re eyes peeled though, Harry,” said Rachel, almost seriously this time but
still in a low whisper. “I hear that there’s someone else out there that likes Hermione almost as
much as you and Ernie do.”

“Who!?” whispered Harry, taken aback by this new piece of information.

“You know who I’m talking about Harry,” said Rachel incredulously. “If someone gave Hermione an
expensive red dress, it’d be outrageous if he didn’t like her!”

Harry’s insides grinned. Rachel was referring to him, though she had no idea. This also told him
that his plan was working; nobody had figured out who gave Hermione that dress and he was grateful
for that. He played along.

“Right,” he said, trying his best to sound disappointed at the thought of another falling for
Hermione. “I’ll keep an eye out…”

“Anyway,” continued Rachel. “Still thinking of coming to the Ball?”

“Maybe,” said Harry truthfully. “I guess maybe I should, seeing as I didn’t go to the last one,
but then again, going without a date would be kind of awkward…”

“You aren’t going to be the only one going without a date,” said Rachel, as if the thought were
ludicrous. “I’m sure of it!”

“I guess…” said Harry, half shrugging. “Looks like I got until the day of the Ball to decide
then.”

“Well good luck Harry,” said Rachel, standing up from her seat. “And I’m sorry about Hermione.”
She looked very sorry for him again. Harry was getting used to the looks of pity he was
getting.

“Don’t be…”

“And if it makes you feel any better,” whispered Rachel, “Hermione has said before that you’re
very cute.”

Harry suddenly didn’t feel that much tired anymore. Still tired, but not as much. He was certain
that Rachel saw him blush this time.

“Ernie is nothing compared to you,” said Rachel, dropping her voice so that she was sure only
Harry could hear. “And you and Hermione would make a very perfect couple. But that’s our secret…
”

She left at the last of her words, leaving Harry to smile and fluster, while Hermione continued
leaning against his shoulder, sleeping peacefully on his shoulder…

Harry kept himself occupied and returned to *Secrets of Potions: Made Easy* looking and
studying the potion he had told Hedwig about. He didn’t remember how long it was, but he was sure
it had been at least half an hour Hermione slept on his shoulder. Students were filing in the Hall
now, making it crowded and filling up the gaps between the students. It also became a lot noisier
than one would expect for one to sleep. Harry could feel Hermione stir on his shoulder.

“What’s going on,?” she said lazily, looking around the Hall at the commotion. She had retracted
her head from Harry’s shoulder and stretched, making a cute soft groaning sound Harry had not heard
before. They were still very close.

“Good morning,” smiled Harry, looking away from his book to look at her.

Hermione smiled back at him. “Sorry for using your shoulder as a pillow…”

“I didn’t mind,” said Harry looking back at his book, not wanting her to see him blushing. He
felt another figure approaching him and Hermione. It was Ron.

“Morning you two,” he yawned, sitting opposite of the pair of them. He didn’t seem to notice at
how close Harry and Hermione were, but Harry could’ve sworn Ron gave him a sly grin.

“Hi Ron,” said Hermione sleepily.

“Morning *Ronald*. Rachel was looking for you,” added Harry, matter-of-factly.

“Really?” said Ron, his eyes lighting up. He seemed to be swelling suddenly with unseen
energy.

“She’s at the Ravenclaw table I think,” said Harry looking over his shoulder to confirm.

“Thanks Harry!” exclaimed Ron, standing up from his seat as though it got hot and as quickly as
he arrived, he was gone.

Hermione giggled. “That boy is something else.”

“Tell me about it,” replied Harry, automatically looking back at his book. Hermione smiled.

“What are you reading?” she asked. “I always see you reading that book now.” She had scooted
closer to Harry again, only instead of resting her head, she rested her chin instead in the edge of
his shoulder. Harry reacted by turning toward her; she was looking at the book, keen to see what he
found so interesting. Their lips were so close…

Harry quickly turned back to the book and hoped that Hermione didn’t notice anything peculiar.
He cleared his throat. “It’s this book Dan let me borrow.”

“Gryffindor third year?” said Hermione.

“That’s him,” said Harry, looking at the book but not reading any words, completely aware that
Hermione still rested on his shoulder. “He and I had a talk because he needed advice about
something and he let me borrow this book. He says that maybe there’s something in here that can
help me.”

“Help you with what?” asked Hermione, looking curious.

“Whatever is said between me and him, stays between me and him,” said Harry grinning. He wasn’t
about to tell her that he had come to him for love advice and to tell him that there was something
in the book to help him with his love for Hermione.

“Well that book must be interesting,” said Hermione sarcastically, “if it’s got *you*
reading it all day.”

“What are you saying about me?” said Harry in a mock hurt voice.

“Nothing…” said Hermione playfully.

Harry laughed and Hermione giggled to join him. There was another silence, broken by Hermione,
her chin still planted to a spot on Harry’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry Harry…”

“About what?”

“About the way I was acting before. I was being so stupid and -”

“You still on that? I said I forgave you.”

“I know, but I still feel really terrible about it! I wish there was something I could do to
make it all up to you!”

“You could come with me instead of Ernie to the Ball,” said Harry in a whisper.

“What?” asked Hermione, looking at him from his shoulder.

“I said I’m just glad we’re back on good terms that’s all,” said Harry.

**A/N: I see that I can’t get some things past most of you. Some of you have quite possibly
figured out what’s to happen in the further chapters. Let’s just say that there is a *reason*
why I’m keeping Hermione from seeing Harry’s attempt to show her he likes her…**

**Hope you guys like this chapter… you guys deserve some H/Hr interaction right?**

**Hope that many of you already seen the PoA movie!!! It’s Harry and Hermione’s movie!!! And on
a more personal note, Emma Watson is very pretty… I may just have a small crush on her… ;P but
anyway, she’s going to be a total hottie when she’s 18!!! Count on it!!**

**And I dedicate this chapter to my girlfriend, Malia. I love her so much!!!**



21. Harrys Date
---------------

**Chapter 21 - Harry’s Date**

The next couple of weeks leading up to February seemed slow and somewhat unhappy. Harry had to
endure watching Ernie “flaunt” his way around school, apparently proud that he was taking Hermione
to the Valentines Day Ball. Ernie didn’t say anything specific, but they way he strutted along
halls and held his head up high made Harry sick and want to puke.

Harry went through the next few weeks trying his best not to look to disappointed with the fact
that he wasn’t going to attend the Ball with Hermione, let alone hide the fact that he had a crush
on her. Hedwig seemed furious with him about his decision. She would answer him with one liners and
she was a little curt sometimes, but not entirely friendly.

Between walking through classes, several students looked his way, with the expression that Harry
had now grown to hate: pity. He hated people look at him like he was vulnerable and helpless, it
made him look small and weak. Not that it wasn’t *exactly* the way he was feeling, but the
thought that everyone in school had thought he felt that way was another thing that made Harry
furious.

In classes, Harry sat between Ron and Hermione, and every so often, Harry fought the urge to
compliment something about Hermione. He fought the urge to be *extra* nice to her. He fought
the urge to show that he loved her. He fought the urges to keep *looking* at her. All he could
do was act as the *friend* he always was…

For some reason, when an event in the future that is not really looked forward to, and that you
feel it should never come, time seems to move a lot quicker toward that event. Harry knew the
feeling; he had felt it during the times in fourth year when he had to prepare for one of the three
tasks. Before he knew it, January was gone and February was here.

The school made it an effort to make Harry feel a lot better about the upcoming Valentines Ball.
There were decorations of pink, red, and white all over the school, every single teacher had a
parchment (or maybe even four) posted somewhere in their classroom, counting down and reminding
students how many days were left until the Ball, and there were cherubs floating above the
corridors of the school, sprinkling the students with Valentine colored confetti when ever they got
the chance. Harry had never felt so disgusted with February in his life.

He had grown to like Valentines Day the previous two years; he remembered vividly the bouquet of
flowers with an enchanted rose he gave Hermione two years ago and the larger than life rose he gave
her just last year. By now, Harry had run out of ideas. After all, he had given up on showing her
how much he loved her, so if he was going to give her something, it would have to be small.

As the Valentines Day Ball got closer and closer (as reminded by those *wonderful*
parchments now posted in the corridors) the anticipation and talk grew with it.

“Who are you going with Harry?” asked Ron interestingly, when he, Harry, and Rachel were sitting
as a group in the Great Hall during lunch. Harry saw Rachel give him another look of pity. Ron
didn’t notice.

“I’m working on it,” lied Harry. He had already decided; if he wasn’t going with Hermione, he
wasn’t going with anybody else. He didn’t seem to be paying any particular attention to anything
but he found the food on his plate to be interesting.

“Are you still going even if you don’t find a date?” added Rachel tentatively. She was looking
at Harry anxiously and he read her face.

“Yes, I’m still going,” said Harry, a knowing twinkle in his eye that only Rachel could read
because she knew what was going on with him and his situation.

“Of course he’s going to get a date,” said Ron impatiently rounding on Rachel. “Who
*wouldn’t* want to go with Harry to the Ball? Girls were asking him all over the place for the
Yule Ball!”

“Hermione doesn’t want to go with me,” said Harry in an undertone, fingering his fork.

“What?”

“Nothing…”

Harry tried to ignore him; he didn’t want to think about anything that had to do with dancing or
asking girls about something. Someone caught his attention: Hermione had just pushed open the doors
of the Great Hall and was walking toward them

“Hi Hermione,” said Harry, as she sat down next to him to join the group. He was pushing some of
his food around his plate with his fork.

“Are you feeling better?” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder, looking anxious and
concerned.

“A little bit,” said Harry lazily. “But I’ve still been tired these past few weeks.”

“You need to rest!” Hermione said patiently. “It’s not good to run your body when it has no
energy!”

“I have energy,” yawned Harry, propping his head on his hand while his other hand continued to
push around food on his plate. “Trust me, Hermione. I’m fine…”

“If you say so…” said Hermione softly. She still looked anxious.

“Hi Hermione,” said Rachel, as though she and Ron had just joined them by sitting across from
her and Harry.

“Hello Rachel,” smiled Hermione. “Hi Ron.”

“Ello Er-my-knee,” said Ron, with a mouthful of some of his food he had stuffed in his
mouth.

“Are you sure you’re ok Harry?” said Hermione glancing at him. “You haven’t looked any better
since I feel asleep at your shoulder! - Well, you have actually… but you still don’t look
completely ok…”

Harry grinned and after catching Rachel’s eye, she grinned to. Harry wasn’t about to tell
Hermione that there was no way he was going to feel better in the next few days. The fact that he
still felt the same way about her since about two years ago wasn’t helping making him feel any
better. Plus the fact that he was now supposed to be *hiding* his feelings for her wasn’t
helping. Add to his dismal feelings because of an approaching Ball, a *second one*
nonetheless, that he wasn’t going to with Hermione, wasn’t helping either.

“You feel asleep with your head on his shoulder?” coughed Ron in disbelief, somewhat choking on
food. Rachel was hitting him on the back, though it looked like it wasn’t doing any good to help.
When Ron had made sure he could breath properly, he took a breath and looked somewhat… amused.
“When was this!?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” exclaimed Hermione, as if she were pleading innocent for a crime
she had done. Harry thought he was seeing things, but that almost did look like a blush to him. “I
was tired!”

Ron looked at Harry, then at Rachel, then back at Harry. He still had that amused expression
plastered on his face.

“So,” said Rachel, breaking the awkward silence, “are you ready for the Ball Hermione?”

“Oh yes,” said Hermione, regaining her composure. “Ernie and I have coordinated our outfits.
We’re going to match.”

“I see,” said Rachel, glancing a look at Harry. He slumped in his chair and gave an inaudible
sigh. It was the wrong thing to change the subject to.

“I know you two are,” said Hermione, motioning to her and Ron. They merely shrugged and she
turned to Harry. “What about you Harry? Are you ready?”

“Absolutely,” said Harry, with a hint of sarcastic enthusiasm in his voice. “Can’t wait…”

***

The day that Harry had dreaded was finally here: The day of the Valentines Day Ball. The morning
and afternoon went by expectantly fast and night time had approached; the Ball would start in about
two hours.

Harry dressed silently in his Head Boy room in front of a mirror. He wore some black cargo
pants, a green dress shirt, and his elegant green robes that he used for the Yule Ball. He left his
hair alone; he tried hopelessly to tame it and there was no way he was going to make it nice and
tidy at the rate he was going. Plus there wasn’t anyone to impress anyway. He could hear footsteps
outside his door which told him that some of the overly excited students were all heading down to
the Great Hall, apparently eager to get to the Ball first.

Hedwig stared and watched Harry dress. She had cooled down a bit, but she was still a bit
resentful towards him. Harry didn’t care; as long as it wasn’t Hermione yelling at him, he didn’t
care who it was.

“You look fine Harry,” said Hedwig, from the top if his desk where she was watching. “Just try
not to look so nervous.”

“Me? Nervous?” squeaked Harry, looking into the mirror and adjusting his glasses, his voice a
little higher than usual.

“You’re shaking,” she apprehensively, flying and landing on top of his shoulder. “I can see you
shivering from the desk and I can definitely feel you shaking too. What are you so nervous
about?”

“I really don’t feel like going anymore,” said Harry pathetically. “I don’t want spare the
embarrassment…”

“You didn’t go to the last one Harry,” said Hedwig patiently, her claws digging into Harry’s
shoulders slightly to balance herself on his shaking shoulder. “Just go and have a good time.”

“How can I have a good time?” asked Harry, almost hysterically. “I look terrible, Hermione
doesn’t know I love her, and I don’t even have a date!”

“You look handsome and you aren’t the only one going without a date,” said Hedwig softly. “I’m
sure of it.”

Harry was reminded of what Rachel had him in the Great Hall; it was the exact same thing.

“About Hermione not knowing that you love her,” said Hedwig tentatively. “I’m… proud of you
Harry…”

Harry frowned at her through the mirror.

“I still don’t agree with you giving up on Hermione!” added Hedwig, looking disappointed. “But
I’m proud of the way you’ve been handling the situation. You haven’t been sulking as much as I
thought you would’ve and I can see that you’re trying immensely to be as normal and calm as you can
be. Other than the fact that you’ve just been looking very tired these past few weeks, Hermione on
the other hand…”

“What about her?”

“…sees right through you Harry. She can tell something is wrong with you.”

Harry’s face fell slightly.

“I have a great feeling of admiration for you though, Harry,” said Hedwig, putting a comforting
wing behind his head. “I’m still proud of you…”

Harry smiled and stroked one of Hedwig’s wings. “Thanks…”

***

Harry walked down to the Great Hall, Hedwig perched firmly on his shoulder (she insisted on at
least walking him), passing some of the other students who were apparently waiting for their dates
or for more of their friends to join the group. Most of them looked very nice, sporting some sort
of dress robe in some variation or color; there was even one boy who had almost the same shade of
green as Harry’s dress robe. Harry paced down to the Great Hall, looking forward to how Hermione
looked and suddenly feeling nervous at how his hair still stuck up at strange angles. Ron and
Rachel in front of the Great Hall doors, waiting for him.

“Hi Harry,” said Ron, clapping his hand on his back that made Hedwig lose her balance on Harry’s
shoulder. He was wearing a reddish maroon colored dress robe it seemed to match perfectly with his
red hair.

“Hello Harry,” greeted Rachel with a wave. She was wearing a silvery looking dress robe that
resembled the color Harry remembered when looking into a Pensieve, and her hair was braided into a
ponytail. Harry smiled at her.

“Hey Ron,” said Harry, “Evening Rachel.”

“Awww, look at Hedwig,” she said, beaming up at her on Harry’s shoulder. She was always fond of
Harry’s owl.

“She accompanying you Harry?” asked Ron sarcastically, smiling at Hedwig.

“Just thought she wanted to walk me down that’s all,” said Harry, now perching Hedwig on his
arm, which was bent at the elbow and his fist near his stomach.

“How would you know if she wanted to walk down with you?” asked Ron, somewhat incredulously.
“You can’t talk to animals!”

“Of course he can’t!” said an patient voice, from behind Harry. He turned around.

It was Hermione accompanied arm in arm with Ernie MacMillian. She was wearing a very light,
pinkish dress robe and the pink was so subtle and so light, Harry thought it was white at first
glance. The pink matched the same color that was on her cheeks and her hair was down in very soft
curls that cascaded just below her shoulders. She looked more beautiful than Harry had been
expecting. She smiled at him.

Ernie was wearing a white dress robe.

“Hi Hermione,” said Harry, swallowing and trying not to sound like his breath was taken away too
much. “You look beautiful.” She smiled and he could feel Hedwig hoot amusingly on his arm. “Hey
Ernie.”

“What’s up Harry,” he said, bowing his head politely. Harry still remembered the slight “rumor”
Ernie had started, but understood that it wasn’t entirely his fault. It was no use being mad at him
either; it wasn’t going to change Hermione accompanying him to the Ball, plus it would be just a
waste of energy and anger.

“Ok Hedwig, the five of us are going to go now,” hooted Harry toward her. He motioned to
Hermione, Ron, Rachel, and Ernie. “Thanks for walking me.”

“Ok Harry,” hooted Hedwig, nipping at his finger affectionately. “Please try to have fun?”

“I will,” assured Harry, but how sure he didn’t know. He held out his arm to give Hedwig a
footing and she spread her wings and took off in flight down the corridor and through the castle’s
main door. Harry sighed to himself and he watched Hedwig disappear into the night.

“You can talk to animals!” said Ron defiantly. He and the rest of them were all gazing where
Hedwig had flown.

“Of course he can’t,” said Hermione and Rachel patiently at the same time. Harry grinned.

“Harry’s been hooting at Hedwig like that for years now,” explained Hermione, then turned to
face him and said, “What do you call it Harry?”

“Just a little thing she and I do,” said Harry, half shrugging. Ron had no idea how true his
theory of him talking to animals was. True, he couldn’t talk to animals. Not *all* of them
anyway; just one.

“Let’s go then,” said Harry, feeling how stupid the five of them looked looking down a corridor
at basically at nothing. He walked a few steps toward the entrance of the Great Hall, stopped, then
turned around. Hermione, Ron, Rachel, and Ernie had not moved from their spots. They stood five
feet from Harry; Hermione and Rachel were frowning at him while Ron and Ernie was staring with
bemused expressions.

“What?” he said, suddenly feeling self conscious.

“Aren’t we going to wait for *your* date?” said Hermione tentatively.

“Oh,” said Harry lamely. He had forgotten completely about it that it almost made him laugh. “I
don’t have one,” he added shortly.

“What?” whispered Hermione incredulously. She was looking at him with sincere sorrow. “Why
not?”

“I… couldn’t get one,” said Harry lamely. The four of them kept looking at him as if they had
heard the most phenomenal news in years. Hermione let go of Ernie’s arm and approached Harry,
turning their backs to Ron, Rachel, and Ernie..

“What happened Harry?” asked Hermione in a whisper. She looked worried.

“What do you mean, what happened?” said Harry, looking puzzled.

“I thought you had a date?”

“I didn’t say that,” answered Harry coolly. He wondered why it was such a big deal all of a
sudden. “Why? Wondering who I might have been going with?”

“It’s not that,” sighed Hermione and she truly looked it. “It’s just that all this time I
thought you had a date.”

“Why’s it so important anyway?” said Harry impatiently. “Since when was it such a big deal?”

“It’s just that…” started Hermione. She sighed and closed her eyes for a second, as if thinking
about what to say. “It’s just that I’ve been feeling really bad, you know, since our quarrel… I
thought that maybe if a nice girl accompanied you to the Ball you might… relax a little.”

She said those last words tentatively, afraid of the reaction Harry might give her. He blinked;
Hermione sighed softly with relief.

“You’ve been looking so worn down and tired lately,” she continued in a caring tone, “and I
really wanted you to have some fun for a change. You deserve it.”

“Hey Hermione,” sighed Harry softly. “I appreciate you thinking about me and all,” he said
appreciatively, “but trust me, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” asked Hermione. She still looked unnerved.

“Positive,” assured Harry. “Thanks for caring, Hermione.”

She smiled at him satisfactorily. “You didn’t get one?”

“I didn’t get one,” Harry repeated, smiling comfortingly at her.

Hermione still looked at him with the same sorrow look. “So why couldn’t you get one?”

“The ones I asked were already taken,” lied Harry, feeling guilty. He wasn’t about to say, “I
wanted to go with you but you were already taken and I didn’t want to go with anyone else besides
you.”

“You two finished over there?” said Ron’s impatient voice from behind them. Harry and Hermione
turned around and saw Ron, indeed looking impatient, Rachel, still looking aghast that Harry had no
date, and Ernie, looking very keen about what Harry was talking about with his date.

“Let’s go then!” called Harry, motioning toward the door and added to Hermione, “Thanks again”
in a whisper so that only she could hear him, smiled appreciatively and winked at her.



22. The Valentines Day Ball
---------------------------

**Chapter 22 - The Valentines Day Ball**

The Great Hall was set up just like the Yule Ball was: the four house tables were gone, and
filled with about 20 smaller rounder tables that looked to fit about 10 people. The only area
unoccupied by tables was a square at the center of the Hall, which Harry assumed was for dancing.
At the far end of the Hall where the staff table usually was, there was a stage and a group of 5
people made up of witches and wizards dressed in elegant robes, setting up instruments.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Rachel, and Ernie sat themselves at a table not to far from the dance
floor, but not at a table that was on the outer edge of the hall. Harry felt somewhat grateful; it
would be hard for people to spot him as the Hall got crowded. He sat between Ron and Hermione,
their dates on the other side of them.

“Looks pleasant enough,” said Ron absently, gazing around the Hall. Harry groaned.

The Hall was still somewhat empty with a few students scattered here and there at tables. The
Hall was decorated with banners that skirted the ceilings, magical colored chains that hung on the
wall, and floating paper hearts that were in the same familiar red and pink that made Harry sick.
Some cherubs were tossing confetti of the same color as they soared above students heads; some
looked irritated, others beamed at them.

The five of them sat comfortably at their table and others soon joined them. Dean Thomas sat
down along with his date, Parvati Patil and Seamus Finnigan sat down, accompanying Lavender Brown.
They all greeted each other and soon the table was filled with conversation. At one time when Harry
wasn’t saying anything, he glanced round the table; Ron on his left, and his date Rachel at his
left. Then sat Dean and his date Parvati. To Parvati’s left was Lavender who sat next to her date,
Seamus. There was an empty chair between Seamus and Ernie, who sat next to Hermione, on Harry’s
right.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair and sighed dejectedly; he was the only one at the table
without a date and he never felt so alone in his life. He wished that Hedwig hadn’t flown away.

The Great Hall gradually filled with students and soon everyone was seated and there was hardly
an empty seat at tables (Harry stared at the empty one between Ernie and Seamus). When it looked
that everyone that was attending were seated, Dumbledore stood at the foot of the stage where the
witches and wizards where setting up instruments and held out both arms. The Hall fell to a silence
as everyone looked at him.

“Welcome, welcome,” said Dumbledore, looking thoroughly up and down at the students, a calm and
innocent look on his face. “Welcome to the Valentines Day Ball.”

Dumbledore went into his usual speech of behaving themselves and told everyone to just have a
good time. He turned ninety degrees and put an arm out introductionately.

“I, and I’m sure most of you, am honored to have *Wizandwitch* as guests to play songs for
us tonight,” he said, motioning behind him. There was an excited stir of murmurs and whispers from
among the students.

“Who are they?” said Harry absently.

“They’re a new wizarding band,” said Hermione, matter-of-factly. “They’re becoming famous for
bringing Muggle music to the Wizarding world.”

Dumbledore silenced the students and continued.

“May all of you have a wonderful and lovely Valentines Day,” concluded Dumbledore. “And now… let
the Ball begin!”

The tops of the tables (once empty) suddenly was filled with plates, forks, knives, spoons, and
napkins. Harry gazed fixated on what was on top of his fairly large plate; it had all kinds of his
favorites feasting foods. He glanced at everyone else’s plates and noticed that they didn’t contain
the same food as was on his plate, in fact, every person had a plate of food unique to them.
Everyone at their table was looking at each others plates, just as astonished as Harry was.

“This is my favorites!” he heard Dean say and he began digging into his food.

“This is *my favorite!*” Parvati said next to him. There were nods of agreement round the
table. Evidently, the plates knew exactly what kind of foods the person sitting in front of them
liked.

Soon after, everyone dug into their foods. Harry absently looked up and one of the wizards in
the elegant robes who was setting up instruments stood at the edge of the stage. He was wearing
deep sky blue dress robes.

“I hope you all are having a pleasant evening,” he said, his voice echoing the Hall magically as
if he were talking into an invisible microphone in front of him. He glanced the Hall and most of
the students were now half looking at him and half eating their food.

“He’s cute,” Harry heard Hermione say.

“Yes he is!” said Rachel in agreement. Ron snorted, choking on some food.

“My name is Ando Barras and I am one of the members of Wizandwitch,” he said. He looked to at
the two witches to his right. “That there is Mai Dellers -” he motioned to the witch in champagne
colored dress robes, “ -and that lovely young lady there is Malia Gorin,” he motioned to the witch
in pink dress robes. He looked in the direction to his right to wizard and another witch. “That’s
Juss Sane -” he motioned to the wizard in black dress robes, “- and that is Nelora Raines,” he
motioned to the witch in a cream dress robe. “And we are *Wizandwitch*!” There was a polite
and enthusiastic applause.

“You headmaster, Albus Dumbledore,” continued Ando, “invited us to play for all of you when it
would be time for dancing. But for now, we will keep you all entertained by playing a few songs
here and there while all of you lovely witches and wizards dine. I’m sure you won’t mind?” Once
again there were enthusiastic and excited cheers.

“So I call upon Malia to sing the first song!”

Ando walked away from the edge of the stage and sat on a stool an held a guitar in position to
play. Mai was playing what looked like a wizarding keyboard, Justen was behind a magical set of
drums and other percussion looking instruments, and Nelora looked to be playing some sort of bass
instrument.

There was some sort of magical spotlight on Malia now just when Mai started to play a piano
introduction. It was gentle, calm, and almost in a dreamlike way. Malia started to sing, her voice
sweet, soothing, and serenading.

**“Late at night when all the world, is sleeping,**

**I say up and think of you.**

**And I wish on a star, that somewhere you are, thinking,**

**Of me too…”**

Harry’s ears twitched to the song. He ate at his food and listened secretly to the words,
suddenly interested in the lyrics.

*“Cause I’m dreaming, of you tonight,*

*Till tomorrow, I’ll be holding you tight.*

*And there’s no where in, the world, I’d rather be.*

*Than here in my room, dreaming about, you and me.”*

Harry crewed absently on his food and glanced swiftly at Hermione; she was engaged in
conversation with Ernie.

**“Wonder if you ever see, me, and I,**

**Wonder if you know I'm there.**

**If you looked in my eyes,**

**Would you see what's inside, would you, even care?”**

Harry continued to steal glances at Hermione when he felt no one was looking. The song and
lyrics had a very powerful force on Harry. His mind raced with images. Back when Harry’s love had
first blossomed for Hermione, he wondered if she ever saw him as more than a friend at any point in
her life. He also wondered if she could tell (because of his hints of love toward her) that he was
there, right in front of her face, loving her. If she did look into his eyes, which was a gateway
to his soul, would she see his love for her? And how would she feel about it… really?

He had an image of he and Hermione standing somewhere outside by the lake. Hermione looked
flustered, as if she wanted to get away but he was grasping her wrists tightly, holding her close
to his chest and staring deep into her eyes as if forcing her to look at him… to read him…

*“I just wanna hold you close, but so far,*

*All I have are dreams of you.*

*So I wait for the day, And the courage to say, how much,*

*I love you.”*

Harry ate his food, his mind wondering. It was as if the lyrics of the song were triggering
something in his head. Harry’s image of he and Hermione at the lake changed quickly into the Great
Hall, Harry standing at the entrance and peering inside. He was watching Hermione giggle at
something Ernie had said at one of the tables. Harry swallowed the food in his mouth.

*“I'll be dreaming of you tonight,*

*Till tomorrow, I'll be holding you tight.*

*And there's nowhere in, the world, I'd rather be,*

*Than here in my room dreaming about you and me.”*

Harry could feel his eyes water for a moment. He rubbed then from behind his glasses and fixed
them on his nose. Now he could see himself lying on his bed in the middle of the night, staring at
the ceiling. His eyes were watering behind his glasses. The real Harry shook his head violently and
grunted. He removed his glasses, shut his eyes, and pinched himself between them.

*“Haa Ahh,”*

“Harry?” he heard Hermione say.

*“I can't stop dreaming of you…”*

“Huh?” He had opened his eyes and looked at her blurry figure. He replaced his glasses.

“Harry, what is it?” Hermione asked, looking alarmed. Harry hoped his face didn’t look to
revealing.

*“I can't stop dreaming…”*

“Nothing,” he lied. “Just… rubbing my eyes.”

“You look… disturbed - about something,” said Hermione uncertainly. She was leaning close to him
now, one of her arms wrapped comfortably around him. Ron and the others were looking at him,
wondering what was wrong with him.

“Is it the food?” asked Ron, looking at his own and looking nervous, as if he were going to
suffer the same way as Harry.

“The food’s fine Ron,” assured Harry. He looked at Hermione. Their she was, twinkles in her
eyes, cute as ever, even if she was worried about him.

**“I can't stop dreaming of you…”**

“I’m fine Hermione,” said Harry, looking at her and then at the others to confirm. “I just have
a light headache…” The song went into a light a cappella.

**“Late at night when all the world, is sleeping,**

**I stay up and think of you.**

**And I still can't believe, that you came up to me and said,**

**I love you… I love you too.”**

Harry stared at Hermione and wondered, when was *she* ever going to say that she loved him?
Not as a friend, but more than that…

“You should to go to the hospital wing,” said Hermione apprehensively.

**“Now I'm dreaming, with you tonight,**

**Till tomorrow, and for all my life.**

**And there's nowhere in, the world, I'd rather be,**

***Than here in my room, dreaming with you, endlessly*.”**

“It’s just a small one,” said Harry patiently. Another image of he and Hermione popped in his
head. They were in his Head Boy Room, lying on his bed. Harry as on his back while Hermione was on
her side snuggled against him. His arm was comfortably wrapped around Hermione, her head was on his
shoulder and her right hand flat on his chest. They were sleeping…

**“Dreaming, with you tonight,**

**Till tomorrow, I'll be holding you tight,**

**And there's nowhere in, the world, I'd rather be,**

**Than here in my room, dreaming with you, endlessly.”**

“Are you sure?” said Hermione, in the same tone she used when she was talking to him outside the
Great Hall.

**“Dreaming, of you tonight,**

**Endlessly… I'll be holding you tight,**

***Till tomorrow… Dreaming… with you, tonight*…”**

“I’m sure,” said Harry, trying to regain his composure. The others at the table were looking at
him still as if he were about to explode. The song had ended with the fading of instruments and as
soon as the music stopped and the Great Hall erupted with applause, it was a though something had
hit an “off” button in Harry’s head.

He stared back at his plate, filled with about a third of food, and felt his face going red,
trying to avoid any eyes. He had images of himself and Hermione, right in front of her. It wasn’t
that she could read his mind or anything, but the song had somehow triggered something in his brain
that made him think… about Hermione… and gave him, what looked like, graphical images of the lyrics
in the song. None of the scenes he saw in his head happened, but they seemed and felt so real…

Harry tried to eat to get himself occupied again, but found himself looking at the stage, the
Hall still filled with applause.

“Thank you,” said Malia blushingly, smiling. The applause didn’t stop though; she was receiving
special whistles from some boys that were up front close to the stage. She backed away from the
edge of the stage and the magical spotlight disappeared, making it impossible to see what was
happening at the stage.

“That was beautiful,” sighed Rachel dreamily. “It was beautiful, wasn’t it Ron?”

“Huh?” said Ron, looking up on stage, trying like the rest of the boys in the Hall to get a
glimpse at Malia. “What Rachel?”

“Ronald!” she exclaimed, hitting him on the arm.

Harry grinned while Hermione bent over him still, trying to console. Harry loved it; he would
rather Hermione comfort him than to stare at a beautiful girl for hours, unless Hermione was the
beautiful girl. There was about a five minute break in which Harry ate a few more bites of his
meal, when suddenly the magical spotlight appeared onstage along with Malia, who was greeted with
whistles.

“I’m going to call upon Ando for the next song,” she said happily, smiling at the crowd.

Ando stood up professionally and picked up his stool, putting it where Malia was standing and
sitting on it, then placed his guitar on his knee. Malia took Ando’s preoccupied spot and with a
wave of her wand, another keyboard that looked like Mai’s appeared in front of her.

“This next song is dedicated to all you wizards out there who have a special place in his heart
for that certain witch,” said Ando, the magical spotlight now on him, “maybe even the witch you
accompanied here this evening.”

Harry slumped slightly into his chair. Now they were going to play a song that was dedicated to
a perfect description of him. There were some small and respectable murmurs as Ando started an
intro with a guitar solo.

**“To really… love a woman,**

**To understand her… you gotta know her deep inside,
Hear every thought… see every dream,
N' give her wings when she wants to fly.
Then when you find yourself lying helpless, in her arms,
Ya know ya really love a woman.”**

** The lyrics scrambled through Harry’s head and clicked the “on” button. More images
swam through his head. Did he really love Hermione? He saw Hermione looking disheveled when her
dress was destroyed (though she didn’t admit it) because of him. Then the image changed to the end
of the year, where Hermione was giving some sort of speech to a crowd because she had graduated
with the highest marks in her class. Then suddenly, he saw himself back in Ashley’s shop, Lynda’s
Wizard Anythings, handing over his Firebolt broomstick, his wings… so that he could get her
dress…

***“When you love a woman, you tell her that she's really wanted.
When you love a woman, you tell her that she's the one.
Cuz she needs somebody, to tell her that it's gonna last forever.
So tell me have you ever really - really really ever loved a woman?”***

“Nice song,” said Harry, not aware that he had said anything out loud.

“It is isn’t it?” said Hermione dreamily. She was done eating and propping her chin in her hand,
looking at the stage.

“Ron, how come you never sing to me like that?” said Rachel, her voice in the same dreamy tone
as Hermione. All the girls seemed to be transfixed on the edge of the stage.

“Me? *Sing!?*” said Ron incredulously.

**“To really love a woman,**

**Let her hold you - till ya know how she needs to be touched.**

**You gotta breathe her - really taste her,
Till you can feel her, in your blood.
When you can see your unborn children, in her eyes.
Ya know ya really, love a woman.”**

Harry now had an image of himself, his head in Hermione’s lap somewhere in the Gryffindor common
room. Then he was hugging her tightly in his arms, blinded by her hair, and he inhaled deeply,
breathing her in. Then he pulled his head back a little and placed his lips on hers, kissing her in
a warm and passionate way, just as a little boy with brown unruly hair and a little girl with bushy
black hair and green eyes were tugging at Hermione’s skirt and Harry’s pants going, “Mommy!
Daddy!”

Harry gave a lopsided grin and felt himself going red. Everyone was too busy listening to Ando
to notice.

***“When you love a woman, you tell her that she's really wanted.
When you love a woman, you tell her that she's the one.
Cuz she needs somebody, to tell her that it's gonna last forever.
So tell me have you ever really - really really ever loved a woman*?”**

Harry found himself somewhere outside by a rosebush outside the castle. He was kneeling in front
of Hermione, who was looking flustered and nervous, and bearing a ring. “You’re all that I want,”
he heard himself say. “You’re the one I love Hermione. And my love for you will last forever.”

Harry felt himself going even more red than Ron’s hair.

*“You got to give her some faith - hold her tight.
A little tenderness - gotta treat her right.
She will be there for you, takin' good care of you.
Ya really gotta love your woman…”*

There was a break in the song, with Ando playing some sort of guitar solo. Harry discreetly
glanced the table. Ron was kissing Rachel, Seamus was holding Lavender’s hand, Dean was hugging
Parvati close to his body, and Ernie had just given Hermione a kiss on the cheek. Harry grimaced
and felt as if a huge boulder fell into the pit of his stomach.

**“And when you find yourself lying helpless, in her arms,
Ya know ya really looooooooooooooooove a woman…**

***“When you love a woman, you tell her that she's really wanted.
When you love a woman, you tell her that she's the one.
Cuz she needs somebody, to tell her that it's gonna last forever.
So tell me have you ever really - really really ever loved a woman*?”**

Harry saw flashes of Hermione run in his head. He was taking her out on dates and giving her a
bouquet of roses on Valentines Day. Colin Creevey was giving him a picture of Hermione. He was
trading in his Firebolt for a dress.

***“Just tell me have you ever really - really really ever loved a woman*?”**

Hermione had done something she had never done before and kissed him on the cheek in fourth
year. This was the first time she had kissed him; what incidentally started this whole Harry
falling in love…

***“Just tell me have you ever really - really really ever loooooooooved… a
woman*?”**

“Yes I have,” said Harry, before he knew what he was saying.

“What?” said Hermione, looking at him.

“Nothing,” replied Harry quickly, turning a shade of pink.

Ando finished the song with an ending guitar solo. There was a split second silence before the
Hall again erupted with cheers and applause. Ando stood up along with the rest of the band and they
all bowed. The Hall roared even louder. Harry felt the “off” button go in his head. He suddenly
felt dizzy.

“Now is the time you all have been waiting for,” said Ando when the cheers died down. “If you
would like to head to the center of the room and onto the dance floor…” There were squeals from
several girls already pulling their male partners, looking embarrassed and flustered, onto the
dance floor. Two of the girls being Lavender and Parvati, dragging Seamus and Dean behind them.

Ando laughed quietly to himself. “Looks like they got the picture.” He turned around and handed
his guitar to Mai, who took it and moved the stool to where she was sitting and sat on it, propping
the guitar on her knee.

There was a quiet piano intro by Malia. The Great Hall’s light went dim, except for the magical
spotlight on Ando. Harry, who was getting mysteriously dizzier by the second, put his head down on
the table.

**“Look into my eyes - you will see,
What you mean to me.
Search your heart - search your soul,
And when you find me there, you'll search no more.”**

The familiar switch in his head was put into the “on” position and a similar image of he and
Hermione standing somewhere outside by the lake. Harry was holding her close to him, clutching her
robes by her waist as if pulling her into him. Hermione looked flustered, but this time, she was
holding his upper arms, clutching his robes between her fingers and staring deep into his
eyes…**

“You ok Harry,” Harry heard Hermione say, shaking him gently. He lifted his head just enough to
catch her eye; he knew that he couldn’t conceal the way he was actually feeling for much
longer.

“I’m still a bit dizzy,” said Harry, feeling the room twirl in violent circles. “But I’m
ok.”

“You ok mate,” said Ron, standing up with Rachel. They were heading to the dance floor.

“Fine,” said Harry shortly, sitting up in his chair and trying not to sway. “Go and dance.”

Ron and Rachel, thought reluctantly, headed to the dance floor like many of the students were
doing.

**“Don't tell me, it's not worth trying for.
You can't tell me, it's not worth dying for.
You know it's true,
Everything I do, I do it for you.”**

“What are you waiting for?” said Harry looking at Hermione and Ernie.

“You all right Harry?” said Ernie frowning. It was the first genuine feeling Harry felt all day
from him.

“You don’t look well.”

“I’m just a bit dizzy,” said Harry automatically. “You two go and dance.”

“But what about you?” said Hermione tentatively.

“What about me?” answered Harry coolly. HE motioned toward the dance floor. “Go dance. Go.”

“But you -”

“Just go Hermione,” said Harry in a persuading way. “Ernie, drag her to the dance floor
please.”

**“Look into my heart - you will find,
There nothin' there to hide.
Take me as I am - take my life,
I would give it all, I would sacrifice.”**

She looked like she didn’t want to leave Harry at all, but gave in and followed Ernie to the
dance floor, leaving Harry alone at the table. He slammed his forehead on the surface., just as
another image of him giving up his Firebolt swam in his mind.

“What is wrong with me?” Harry said, staring into the table cloth. He ran what could possibly be
wrong with him like a list in his head when he realized, that suddenly he didn’t feel dizzy
anymore. He lifted his head and almost gasped in shock, a sinking and dreadful feeling coursing
through his body.

**“Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for,
I can't help it, there's nothin' I want more,
Ya know it's true,
Everything I do, I do it for you.”**

Rachel and Hedwig were wrong: Every single student that attended the Valentines Day Ball was now
on the dance floor, dancing with their partners. Harry was apparently the only one who had attended
the Ball without a date. He was the only one sitting at a table, with the exception of a couple at
the far end of the room, both occupied in conversation, the girl beaming at her date. Because of
the lighting fixture, it looked impossible to see the tables from the dance floor. It was a good
thing: Harry didn’t want a hundred pair of eyes looking at him at the table. He never felt so alone
before.

**“There's no love - like your love,
And no other - could give more love.
There's nowhere - unless you're there
All the time - all the way,
Yeah!”**

There was a break in the song with an instrumentals now.

He looked at everyone at the dance floor and saw many of the girls, wrapping their arms
comfortably around their date’s necks, all whom were holding them close; some were kissing. Harry
saw Hermione and Ernie dancing at the edge of the dance floor and felt a tug at his heart, pouring
with jealousy. He felt empty and also his eyes getting watery again.

“What am I doing?” Harry whispered to himself as if someone were going to answer. “I don’t
belong here.”

Hesitating for a second, Harry got out of his seat and tiptoed unnoticeably to the Great Hall’s
main entrance, moving swiftly through the tables and pass many chairs that were not pushed in. He
opened the door, stepped halfway into the corridor, turned around to look at Hermione and how
beautiful she looked, sighed miserably and closed the door softly behind him. He could still hear
the music.

Harry leaned against the Great door, resting the back of his head on it also, closing his eyes
and letting out an audible and distressing breath. What was he thinking, going to a Valentines Day
Ball dateless and expecting to have fun? Who was he kidding?

**“Oh, you can’t tell me, it's not worth tryin' for.
I can't help me it, there's nothin' I want more.
I would fight for you - I'd lie for you.
Walk the wire for you - Yeah I'd die for you.”**

An image of him cornering Hermione, blurred the insides of his eyelids. He was telling her that
they should themselves give it a try, that he wanted this more than anything. Then an image of him
running with all his might toward Hermione, jumping in front of her just as a beam of green light
struck his chest…**

*“You know it's true,
Everything I do, ohh, I do it for you…”*

Harry paced slowly down the corridor and toward his Head Boy Room; the Valentines Day Ball was
over for him. He laughed softly through his nose as he thought about the last few words of the
song. He would give anything to make Hermione’s life a better one, even if it meant his own…

**A/N: Credit to Selena and Brian Adams for “Dreaming of You” and “Have You Ever Really Loved a
Woman” with “Everything I do”.**

**I hope ot makes sense to everybody; I wrote the lyrics to whatever the singer was singing and
the next paragraph or so that follows, is what’s happening at the same time the song is played.
Hehehe hoped that made sense, and hope all of you like the chapter…**

**



23. Preparation
---------------

**Chapter 23 - Preparation**

Harry was leaning inside the door of his Head Boy Room with his palms pressed into his eyes, as
if trying to think hard for a solution to a problem. He mind was walking mindlessly with no purpose
though he wasn’t thinking. He looked up and found himself looking out of the window behind his
desk. The night sky was clear and he could see the stars clearly, twinkling brightly.

Harry sighed and walked over to his wardrobe, opened its swinging doors, and began to undress in
silence. He put on his pajama bottoms and a hooded sweater and rolled up the sleeves. He had just
put his green dress robes on the hanger when he heard a tapping noise at his window behind his
desk, that cut the silence so severely, it made Harry jump. He glanced at the window, halfway
between putting up his dress robes in the wardrobe, and saw Hedwig. He rushed over to let her
in.

“Hi Hedwig,” said Harry, still holding on to the hanger that held his dress robes. She flapped
through the window and landed on his desk, glaring at him.

“What are you doing back so early?” she asked curiously. “Is the Ball over?”

“No,” said Harry shortly, crossing back to his wardrobe, storing his dress robes inside and
closing the door. “But, it’s over for me,” he added in an unnatural nonchalant way. He sat down
behind his desk, grabbed *Secrets of Potions: Made Easy* from his desk drawer, and turned to
the page of the Memory Potion that interested him.

“What happened Harry?” asked Hedwig consolingly, taking a few steps toward him on his desk.

“Do I even need to say?” said Harry, and when there was a silence, he added, “It was
terrible!”

He told Hedwig about what had happened at the Valentines Day Ball, from admitting that he didn’t
have a date to Ron, Hermione, Rachel, and Ernie, to everyone dancing on the dance floor but him, to
his sneaky escape from the Great Hall, making sure to leave out the images that ran in his
head.

“Plus,” continued Harry, catching his breath, “you were wrong Hedwig, I was the *only* one
to either to go to the Ball without a date, or to not have found one at the Ball.”

Hedwig blinked and looked like she was trying to say something.

“I’m not mad at you or anything,” said Harry, and he truly looked it, though his voice was low
and disappointing. “But, I really do think that me going to the Ball was… just a waste of
time.”

He sadly turned a page, studying carefully the ingredients he would need for the difficult
potion. He didn’t even know if he really wanted to do it anymore… if Hermione didn’t see the way
that he felt about her, then what was a point in doing anything… showing Hermione he loved her was
worthwhile…

“Is there anything I can do?” asked Hedwig gently. She couldn’t really find anything to say to
him, but she did *feel* sorry for him nonetheless. He had gone through pain and suffering
simply to receive the love of another, and embarrassment at the Valentines Day Ball too…

“You can help me get some ingredients for this Memory Potion I want to make,” said Harry
pleadingly, looking up at Hedwig from *Secrets of Potions: Made Easy* and making way to pull a
small cauldron out from his desk.

And so they did; Harry went up and down the corridors (glumly listening to the echo’s of the
music coming from the Great Hall) of the school to get ingredients for his potion, sometimes
sneaking into Snape’s office to nick some items. Hedwig assisted Harry as much as she could and
particularly became of help when a plant came up on the list that Harry was sure they were not
going to find. She remembered a fresh batch of it growing right behind Hagrid’s cabin.

“Thanks Hedwig,” said Harry as she flew into his open window with the plant in her beak. She
thrust it unto the table, as if she were spitting out something sour from her mouth.

“That stuff is *awful!*” she said disgustedly. “It tastes like rotten dragon dung!”

Harry, who grinned, and wondered the circumstances and when Hedwig had ever had dragon dung in
her mouth (*rotten* ones too to note) and started his potion.

It seemed like hours on end that Harry worked on his potion, adding the necessary ingredients at
the times when he needed to, stirring in the right direction (with big or little circles), and
waiting exactly the right time to add the next ingredient. He worked so hard on the potion that he
would have given Snape a run for his money. Why couldn’t he ever do this well on potions when he
was in class? Hedwig watched thoughtfully as Harry worked in silence; however, he became distracted
as he could still hear the faint music coming from the Great Hall that made him sick.

“Why can’t they play that music any softer?” said Harry grumpily, as he added the plant that
Hedwig had gotten for him.

“You want me to go peek at whatever they’re doing down there?” asked Hedwig. As the last words
came out of her mouth, she knew it was a bad thing to say.

“Do whatever you want!” spat Harry, wiping a patch of sweat on his forehead. Brewing the potion
gave his room an odd and humid feeling, making his take off his hooded sweater and forcing on a
t-shirt instead. Hedwig didn’t move from her spot, understanding that Harry had every right to be
upset right now.

About two hours passed when Harry was finally done with his potion; it was an oddly white murky
looking liquid. He felt revolted when he could still hear faint music coming from the Great Hall.
That thing was *still* going on?

“Ok,” said Harry to Hedwig, sighing with frustration, “it says don’t add a bit of yourself until
you are sure you want to start the countdown.”

“Countdown?” asked Hedwig, frowning. “A *bit of yourself?*”

Harry reread a passage from *Secrets of Potions: Made Easy.*

“It says that the countdown will start immediately when you put a piece of yourself, like some
of the hairs on my head, into the potion,” explained Harry, paraphrasing what he just read. “If you
wait for one minute, the memory dating back will be equivalent to that of about one day.”

“Well, go on then,” persuaded Hedwig, motioning him to test it. “Put just a small bit of that
into a smaller goblet, so you don’t have to waste the rest.”

“Good one,” said Harry, rummaging through his desk to pull out a small goblet. He picked up the
small cauldron and carefully poured about half a cup of the murky liquid into a smaller goblet. He
set the cauldron down and pulled a strand of hair from his head, adding it to the liquid in the
goblet; it turned a familiar orange color.

“Harry, NO!”

About ten seconds later and without considering the possible dangers of ingesting something for
the first time, Harry took the small goblet, lifted it to his mouth, and chugged the potion in one
gulp. He felt the substance trickle down his throat and filled his body with a warm tingling
sensation; unexpectedly, it tasted a lot like pumpkin juice.

“How… is it?” asked Hedwig tentatively, worried that he had just taken some sort of poison. She
watched him sway in his spot and blink a few times, as if he was trying to clear his sight.

“I need to sit…” said Harry drowsily, and he did. He fell into a slouch right into the chair
behind his desk, his arms dangling over the armrests. His vision was blurred, though he had his
glasses on, and everything seemed to be spinning. His head bobbed on his neck that sent Hedwig into
a fit.

“Harry!” she screeched, looking terrified, flying and landing on his lap, his glasses sliding
crookedly halfway down his nose. He looked like he had just got off a very dizzying ride. She put
two wings on the side of his shoulders even if Harry didn’t seem to notice. “Harry! What’s the
matter!”

Harry blinked. His breathing was very slow, labored, and deep and he could make the outline of
Hedwig’s white body on his lap. He felt so weak and tired, like if he didn’t close his eyes he
would die, but he fought to keep them open as well. It felt like a dementor was sucking the energy
from his body…

He could fight it no more as his eyes felt like there were weights on them; all he remembered
was Hedwig’s outline on his lap slowly… slowly… getting blacker… and blacker…



24. Another Meeting
-------------------

**Chapter 24 - Another Meeting**

*Where* *am I?,* thought Harry as the blackness that engulfed his vision slowly
blurred into focus.

Harry found himself in his room dressed in green dress robes, standing and staring at himself
through a mirror with Hedwig on his shoulder.

“You’re shaking,” she apprehensively, on top of his shoulder. “I can see you shivering from the
desk and I can definitely feel you shaking too. What are you so nervous about?”

*Why am I shaking anyway?,* thought Harry. A strange feeling coursed thorough his body; he
could feel every bit of himself shaking with fear, and yes he did feel… *fearful.* Though at
the same time he felt as normal and calm as he would feel in a slumber. *I don’t feel nervous
about anything!*

“I really don’t feel like going anymore,” Harry heard come out of his mouth. “I don’t want spare
the embarrassment…”

*What’s going on?,* thought Harry. *I didn’t say those words! I heard them! Those words
were directed to Hedwig and I saw my mouth move in the mirror! But I didn’t* say
*anything!*

“You didn’t go to the last one Harry,” said Hedwig patiently. He could feel her claws digging
into his shoulders slightly to balance herself on his shaking shoulder, but noticed that nothing
was perched on his shoulder in the first place. “Just go and have a good time.”

*Last* what*?,* thought Harry irritably. *I didn’t go to the last, WHAT!?*

Then suddenly it hit him.

What was happening right now wasn’t in real time. He wasn’t standing there in front of his
mirror (though he could definitely make out the scar on his head) with Hedwig on his shoulder. None
of this was happening right now because he was under the effects of the potion he had made.
Everything he saw and heard right now, happened a bare few hours ago. He was seeing his memory and
not only that, he could feel exactly how he was feeling at that moment in time, particularly
nervous in this case because of the Valentines Day Ball.

*I didn’t think the potion made you feel emotions too, but hey the potion worked!,* thought
Harry excitedly. *I actually brewed the potion correctly!*

“How can I have a good time?” Harry heard himself say hysterically. “I look terrible, Hermione
doesn’t know I love her, and I don’t even have a date!”

“You look handsome,” complimented Hedwig, “and you aren’t the only one going without a date. I’m
sure of it.”

Harry grinned at how stupid he looked through the mirror looking helpless and pathetic.

*I was like that a few hours ago?,* he though incredulously.

It felt like something he would experience in a Pensieve, only this time, it was as though he
was an invisible little man peering through the eyes of another and feeling exactly how he felt,
along with whatever the person he was looking through the eyes of felt too.

Harry found himself walking nervously down to the Great Hall entrance…

Meeting with Ron, Rachel, Hermione, and Ernie…

Sitting in the Great Hall at their table…

Listening to the music play…

Images of he and Hermione running through his head…

Looking round the Hall and noticing that everyone was dancing but him…

Sneaking out of the Great Hall…

Up in his room…

Brewing a potion…

Taking a sip of a liquid in a goblet…

Suddenly everything blurred and became marvelously white and clear as if he was looking at a
wall in a room completely painted in white, then a blurred image of a marvelously white owl on his
lap. He was waking up…

“Harry!” shrieked Hedwig, now hitting him in the face with her wings frantically. She looked on
the verge of tears. “Harry wake up!”

“Hedwig…” yawned Harry, stirring in his seat and sitting up slightly from his crouch. His head
was spinning; it felt like someone had just hit him hard on the head.

“Oh!” sobbed Hedwig, burying her face in his chest, and giving him (if owls could do such a
thing) a hug. “Harry… you idiot…!”

“What?” said Harry uncertainly, pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose and putting a
hand on Hedwig’s feathered back. He was looking down at her wide eyed in worry.

“I thought…” sobbed Hedwig in Harry’s chest, breaking down, “I thought… *you had*…”

“Oh, Hedwig!” said Harry consolingly, putting a little more pressure on Hedwig’s back with his
hand, trying to hug her. “I’m all right… I’m fine Hedwig… it works…”

“Oh Harry, what do you think of me now… so silly… crying over nothing…” muttered Hedwig.

“It’s ok Hedwig,” comforted Harry, looking at her.

Hedwig seemed to come out of her reverie as Harry’s words clicked into place. “It - what does…?
What works…?” she sniffed, looking up at him now.

Harry smiled. No girl in their right mind would think that an owl crying didn’t look so
cute…

“The potion,” hinted Harry. “It works…”

“It… it does?” said Hedwig. She was still trembling slightly.

“Yes!” said Harry, almost in a jubilant way. The spinning in his head was subsiding. “I saw
everything! From when I was getting ready for the Ball to when I chugged down the potion - I saw it
all. You know,” he added to Hedwig, frowning slightly as in deep in thought, “it made me feel
everything to…”

“Feel everything…?”

“Every emotion I felt at that time I felt again,” explained Harry. “But it’s complicated. I felt
the emotion I went through at the time, but I felt calm and relaxed, like how you’d feel if you
were sleeping, at the same time.”

“Strange…”

Harry rubbed his chin.

“Yes it is… and you know how I kind of blacked out?”

“What about it?” sniffled Hedwig, clearly not wanting to remember at all.

“The potion wasn’t supposed make me drowsy or put me to sleep either,” said Harry darkly. “Or
was it? But anyway I…”

Unexpectedly, there was a knocking at his door; Harry had forgotten that he was safe and sound
(no doubt in REAL time) in his room.

“Who could *that* be?” inquired Hedwig, her eyes still watery and flying weakly to the top
of the wardrobe.

Harry shrugged, staring at his door. “Come in.”

The door opened with a tiny squeak and Harry saw for a flashing moment a glimpse at the material
of a dark black dress robe, followed by another fabric of dark reddish maroon. It was…

“Dan!” smiled Harry, looking at him as if he had not seen a friend in years. “How are you!?”

“I’m great Harry!” beamed Dan. “I’m great!”

But Dan wasn’t alone; he walked inside, hand - in - hand, with a girl that had brownish - blond
hair that Harry had caught glimpses of in corridors, but never really met or gotten a good look at;
she was very pretty. She looked particularly nervous when she stepped in with him. They both were
dressed in elegant dress robes; perfect for a Valentines Day Ball.

“Valentines Ball over?” asked Harry, trying to make conversation.

“Not yet,” said Dan thoughtfully, who probably couldn’t tell that he still had a goofy grin on
his face. He and the girl stood before Harry’s desk and the girl couldn’t help but glance curiously
at the small cauldron on his desk with the goblet. “There was a session where *Wizandwitch*
kept playing songs and nobody sat down. I don’t even think the sessions done yet…”

“So what brings you here?” asked Harry, hearing faint music coming from the Great Hall, which
made his stomach churn. “I’m sure my room isn’t the most romantic spot to be saying
good-night.”

“Oh…! Harry -,” began Dan, as if he had made a mistake and was now back tracking on it, “this is
Emma. Emma,” He motioned his hand toward her slightly, his face shinning. “Emma, this is Harry.
Harry Potter.” He motioned back toward him.

“Nice to meet you, Emma,” smiled Harry, standing up behind his desk and shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you too Mr. Potter,” smiled Emma timidly, looking very nervous on the matter, like
she had just shaken hands with the Prime Minister.

“Call me Harry,” said Harry, sitting back down and grinning as the memory of Dan saying the same
thing racked his brain. “So, what brings you two here? Shouldn‘t you be having fun at the
Ball?”

“Nothing actually,” said Dan shortly. “I just came to… well - thank you…”

“Thank me?” asked Harry incredulously, his brain racking when he possibly helped Dan for
something in the past. “What for?”

There was a pause in which Harry saw Dan open his mouth as if ready to say something, but was
thrown off when he heard Emma’s voice instead.

“If it hadn’t been for you Mr. Pott - I mean - Harry,” she smiled desperately, “and your advice
you gave him, then Daniel wouldn’t have come up with the courage to come to me and tell me how he
felt about me.”

Harry blinked. “*Me?”* he said darkly. “I assure you that I have *nothing* to do with
Dan talking to you, but still… Emma, when *did* Dan talk to you -?”

“One day after I came in to talk to you,” interrupted Dan. “You remember don’t you? When I asked
you for advice?” He still had that particular grin on his face and couldn’t stop smiling. Emma
adjusted herself to stand closer to Dan and beamed at him.

“Course I do,” said Harry politely.

“I was so afraid,” continued Dan, “so afraid of rejection. Emma looked so taken aback and
shocked when I told her how I felt.”

“I was so scared though Harry,” cued Emma. “I *never once* did think Daniel as more than a
friend to me. I panicked, knowing these startling feelings he had for me and I had to take some
time off and let whatever was said that night to sink in.”

“Was it emotional?” asked Harry softly, looking between the pair.

“You wouldn’t imagine,” said Dan , raising his eyebrows, and looking partly disgusted with
himself. “I felt like one of those guys in those pathetic Muggle movies.”

“I ignored him for days,” said Emma quietly, in a way that said she regretted it.

“I thought I had lost a friend -” sighed Dan pathetically.

“Then what?” asked Harry, completely transfixed at the story.

“I approached Dan one day after thinking,” said Emma emotionally. “And I told him that…”

Her voice trailed of dreamily like smoke dissipating in the air. Harry could have sworn he saw
Dan blush.

“The weeks when I was avoiding him,” added Emma thoughtfully, “I thought about how much it was a
bad idea and how a thing like that between us would never happen. I woke up one morning and the
entire day, all I could think about was how much I hated avoiding him and how much I missed him. I
remembered the fun Dan and I had from when we were little, how close our relationship toward each
other grew over the years, and how… how it’d feel so good if I ever kissed him…”

Harry’s mouth twitched. “That thought caught you off guard didn’t it?”

Emma nodded.

“I tried to tell Dan one day but he didn’t want to talk to me,” she said sadly.

“I was mad at you!” explained Dan to Emma.

“I knew you were!” said Emma, turning to him, and looking frightened. “And after countless
tries, I finally got him to talk to me,” she said turning back at Harry.

“It *was* pretty emotional,” cut in Dan thoughtfully.

“I explained to him that I was feeling a bit uncomfortable given the state of things and that I
couldn’t fall in love with him,” said Emma slowly.

“And?” said Harry, not sure where this was going.

“But I told him that there was… there was a problem,” continued Emma nervously. “I told him… I
told him that… I couldn’t fall in love with him… because, well… I was… I was *already* in love
with him. I was already in love with him from the start…” she admitted, turning rather red. “I was
in love with my best friend when I didn’t recognize it myself…”

“And the rest is history,” concluded Dan, a smile still plastered on his face. Emma snuggled
closer to his arm.

“Well congratulations to you both,” said Harry, perhaps a little more unenthusiastically than he
meant to. Thankfully, Dan and Emma didn’t notice.

Harry thought about what had happened between the pair of them. Dan, simply because he had taken
advice from Harry, went up to Emma and poured out his feelings to her only to find, in an
unorthodox way, that she loved him too. Harry wondered what would happen if he went up to Hermione
and just flat out told her that he loved her. Would she, like Emma did for Dan, secretly love him
back too?

Harry hopes dipped; he had remembered all the hints of love he had given Hermione and also her
very unresponsive ways.

“I’m sorry about Hermione Granger, Harry,” said Dan consolingly out of nowhere, making Harry
come out of his reverie.

“Huh -?”

“Yes I saw,” added Emma, though her voice was maddening. “I saw that bloke accompanying her to
the Ball.”

“Oh… that,” said Harry, avoiding eyes.

“What’s going on between you and Hermione Granger anyway?” asked Dan curiously. “I thought you
liked her…”

“I do,” assured Harry.

He went on to explain how he was sleeping almost unconsciously in his bed due to a lot of
sleepless nights and how he had just found out about the Valentines Day Ball and how it was too
late because Ernie had already asked her.

“Oh, you poor thing!” said Emma consolingly.

“Don’t…” said Harry closing his eyes and putting up a hand, not wanting to hear any more of
those pitying words.

“Why don’t you just tell her you like her already!” said Dan impatiently.

“I give up already,” said Harry, more to himself than anything.

“What do you mean you give up!?” said Dan, a little bolder than intended. “How can you give up
on someone that you love?”

“You don’t understand the whole story,” said Harry unperturbed. “It’s a very long story.”

“Well, we aren’t in a rush to be anywhere, do we Emma?” said Dan to her.

“No we don’t,” said Emma in a final way, she too eager to hear this long story.

Harry gave a heaving sigh and told them what had started about two years, when he first started
to love Hermione. How he was too afraid to tell Hermione about the way he felt and instead decided
to give her hints of love to show that he loved her. How he thought Hermione, being the clever
witch that she was, would be able to figure out that Harry loved her, yet how Hermione was very
unresponsive in the matter. He explained everything he had ever did to show Hermione that he loved
her, from the books, to the gifts, to the dates, to the kindness of words, and maybe a little
flirtatious slurs here and there. He particularly left out the part where he bartered his Firebolt
so that he could get Hermione a dress.

“Oh, you poor thing!” said Emma again after Harry felt he had said everything he needed to say
to make them understand.

“Emma *please*,” begged Harry in a distressing voice. “*Don’t* pity me like that.”

“Well that’s kind of dumb,” said Dan matter-of-factly.

Harry glowered at him. “Why is it dumb!?”

“Well all the time you used to just hint to Hermione Granger that you loved her is now lost,”
said Dan simply. “Couldn’t you just use that very same energy to just *talk* to her for just a
few moments?”

Harry felt very sheepish and stupid at Dan’s words. He was right; what if he just channeled all
that energy he used to hint to Hermione instead to just walking up to her and telling her he loved
her…

“Love makes me do stupid things,” stated Harry, looking down at the desk top.

“So *why* don’t you just tell her that you like her already!” said Dan, his voice not
angry, but now in a patient sort of way. “She’s too dumb to notice the little subtle things and all
of your hints, so why don’t you make it more clear to her than ever, by just *telling her* you
love her?”

“I can’t!” said Harry pitifully. “I too afrai -”

His words were stuck in his throat. He was about to say that he was afraid, but if he did, what
would that look like to Dan and Emma.

“Look Emma,” said Dan to her. “Harry’s *afraid*.”

“I’m not afraid!” said Harry defensively, though he knew he was lying. Dan sighed.

“There Harry,” he said in a patient voice as if he had just proven a point. “You said it
yourself - you’re not afraid - so then now go tell Hermione Granger that you like her…”

“Daniel did it!” said Emma, as if that it settled the matter. “If he did it, I’m sure you can
too!”

Dan nodded feverishly by her side.

“He got the strength to go for it, even though he was risking something,” advised Emma, “through
encouraging words he got through *you,* Harry!”

He looked back and forth between Dan and Emma, his heart full of admiration for the couple. Even
though they were mere fourth years, their heart and spirit were of those of very mature young
adults.

“I thought *I* was supposed to give fellow students advice,” said Harry almost in a
chuckle.

“And now the fellow students are giving words of advice to our Head Boy,” said Emma
consolingly.

There was a long pause in which Emma broke by saying, “Dan and I are not *demanding* that
you go tell Hermione Granger that you love her, we just think that you *should* already.”

“I understand…” said Harry staring blankly at a spot at the bottom right of his desk.

“Just think about it?” Emma suggested. “*Please?* I’m sure Hermione Granger is a
*great* person!”

“You remind me of Hermione,” said Harry thoughtfully to Emma. “you two are so much alike…”

“Then if they’re so much alike, and you see how happy I am now that I‘m with Emma,” said Dan,
“then just imagine how happy you’ll be when you’re with Hermione Granger.”

“I still don’t know if I want to tell her,” suggested Harry skeptically. “I mean, if she hasn’t
been responsive like how I expected her to be, then maybe there’s a reason…”

“What do you mean?” asked Emma.

“I mean that maybe she *does* know the hints of love I gave her, maybe she *does* know
that I like her, maybe she *has* figured it out,” said Harry.

“What are you saying then?” inquired Dan.

“That…” started Harry miserably, “That… she hasn’t been responsive because… well… maybe because
she doesn’t feel the same way as I do…”

“You don’t know that for sure!” exclaimed Emma quickly.

“But it seems *logical,*” said Harry carefully. He swallowed a handful of tears; there was
no way he was going to cry.

“It might seem that way,” said Emma comfortingly. “But there isn’t any proof of it…”

“God, I miss her so much!” Harry added dreadfully, slamming his forehead and two fists down on
the table. He could feel water building up in his eyes and his speech was muffled. “I can’t take it
sometimes! I’ve been sulking so much lately, that I’ve almost forgotten… almost forgotten how happy
I felt whenever I made her happy! Just making Hermione happy was rewarding in itself! I miss those
days… I miss them…”

There was a long pause in which Harry either was eye to eye with the surface of his desk or the
back of his eyelids. After a few silencing moments, Dan spoke.

“Is that why you made this potion Harry?” asked Dan softly and tentatively. “To remember all
those times you had with Hermione Granger and making her happy?”

Harry’s brain clicked and he felt his sobs subsiding temporarily.

“Yes…” said Harry, still with his forehead on the table, not looking at him.

“I’ve done this potion before,” said Dan distantly, looking at the contents inside the goblet
Harry had poured the potion into. “You got it out of my book, *Secrets of Potions: Made Easy*
didn’t you?”

“Yes…” sniffled Harry, now looking up at him, first wiping his eyes and face with his hand.

“Did you… sort of *faint* after you took it?” asked Dan tentatively.

Harry’s eyes suddenly widened excitedly. Feeling that he was going to find out the mystery to
him fainting, he nodded. “What does it mean?”

“Did you notice or think it was strange that the Memory Potion was located in the section of
love potions?”

Harry grabbed for *Secrets of Potions: Made Easy* on his desk and quickly turned to the
page where the memory potion was located. Just like Dan said, sure enough, it was located in the
section of love potions, the last potion to be mentioned before another section of potions
started.

“Never noticed it,” said Harry faintly, more to himself than anything. He looked to Dan for
answers. “But what’s the significance of it anyway?”

“Nothing,” replied Dan, almost a little too quickly. Emma shifted next to him. “I just wondered
if you noticed that’s all…”

“There’s something going on!” exclaimed Harry, closing *Secrets of Potions: Made Easy.*
“You said you’ve done it before!

“I have done it before,” assured Dan. He glanced over to Emma and both of them stared at each
other for a second, as if having a silent conversation and coming to a mutual understanding about
what was going on. Emma, nodded ever so slightly and made a motion as if she were clearing her
throat casually.

“And did you *faint* too?” Harry asked Dan, feeling left out and his blood pumping in his
veins.

“I *did* faint,” replied Dan, staring to become aware at how big, older, and possibly much
stronger Harry was than he.

“So what does it *mean*!?” bellowed Harry, standing up and throwing his arms up in the air
impatiently. “The potion is located in a section *strictly* made of love potions! You said
*you’ve* done it before, and you said that you *fainted* too! *What does it all
mean*!?”

Emma finally spoke, taking a step toward the desk and putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Harry, please,” she said consolingly, her voice passive and calm. “Just please, calm down.”

“I am calm!” retorted Harry. “I’ve never been more calm in my life!”

“Please try to talk to Hermione Granger and tell her that you love her,” she suggested, as if
Harry had not shouted at her. “Daniel and I are not *telling* you to talk to her, we’re just
*asking* you to.”

“You still didn’t answer my question!” roared Harry. “*What the heck is going on with that
potion*!?” It felt quite eccentric to be yelling at two third years, whom Harry hardly knew, and
whom seemed to be more knowledgeable than he did.

“We would tell you Harry,” said Emma calmly. “But now wouldn’t be the right time to. Things need
to - er - fall into place…”

“*Fall into place?”* said Harry frowning and becoming more confused than ever. “I suppose
you aren’t going to tell me what *that* means either!?”

“Just talk to Hermione Granger, Harry,” said Dan, ignoring Harry, his voice calm and patient
much like Emma’s, however there was a tinge of uneasiness in there too. “Go up to her and tell her
you love her…”

Harry wasn’t going to waste another breath on the both of them. He was breathing hard, his chest
heaving and his anger boiling up in his gut. It was useless; they were not going to tell him
anything.

“Thanks Harry,” said Dan finally. “Thanks for the advice. Because of you, I’m really happy
now.”

“Yes Harry,” agreed Emma soothingly, clinging to Dan. “And if you take *our* advice and go
and talk to our Head Girl, you might be as happy too…”

Dan and Emma made way for the door and left without another word, leaving Harry still standing
at his desk, still raging, fuming, and confused.



25. At Last
-----------

**Chapter 25 - At Last**

Hedwig softly touched down in Harry’s desk as soon as Dan and Emma closed the door behind them
with a click. She was staring at the door, as if it were to say something, and sighed. She had hung
on to every word that was spoken in the room, thinking about how frustrated and confused Harry must
feel about everything that was said, and like him, she was just as confused. Hedwig turned to Harry
to say some words of comfort, thinking she would find him helpless and perturbed. Instead, she was
astonished to see Harry’s expression.

He was looking blankly at a spot in the upper right corner of his desk, his brow furrowed, and
his lips pursed, evidently thinking about something.

“Thinking about that potion?” guessed Hedwig.

“Huh?” said Harry blankly, like he had just noticed Hedwig was there. “Yes - actually I am…”

He scratched the back of his head furiously like he always did when something irritating
bothered him.

“I don’t get it,” said Harry irritably. “There’s something bizarre about that potion and Dan and
Emma aren’t telling me why.”

“And all they said was to just talk to Hermione and tell her you love her,” Hedwig finished for
him.

“And that doesn’t help me at all,” growled Harry impatiently.

“Well maybe there’s a reason,” suggested Hedwig calmly, “that they’re not saying anything.”

“And what would that reason be?” said Harry, glaring at Hedwig.

“I’m just suggesting things Harry!” she said, looking alarmed. “I don’t know anything more than
you do.”

“This sucks!” said Harry angrily, throwing his hands in the air, and slumping into his chair. “I
was the only one without a date for the Ball, they play songs that put images in my head, and I
didn’t even get a dance with Hermione!”

Harry got up just as quickly as he sat down, pacing back and forth behind his desk for several
moments, racking his brain with theories about the mysterious mystery of the Memory Potion,
suggesting to Hedwig that it could be possibly dangerous. Hedwig watched him intently, still trying
to sooth him with words and saying that it must not be dangerous otherwise Dan would have told him
straight away.

“I still don’t get what the heck is going on!” shouted Harry defiantly, clutching his hands into
fists. “This is so stupid! Stupid, stupid, stup - WHO IS IT NOW!”

There was a knock on his door. Hedwig flew back to the top of the wardrobe, awaiting another
possible conversation between humans.

“Come in!” bellowed Harry in an impolite and impatient way.

“Harry?” said a soft familiar voice as the door squeaked open.

“Oh! Hi Hermione,” said Harry, gathering himself and looking at her. His voice had a formality
to it, more mature. She was still dressed in her very light pink dress robes and her cheeks flushed
in a way one might look had they been running.

“I heard you shouting,” said Hermione apprehensively, staring back at Harry. Her eyes searched
the room as if to find who he was shouting at. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” said Harry, sitting in the chair behind his desk, though Hermione didn’t look quite
convinced.

“What happened to you?” she asked Harry, eyeing him in his casual outfit of pajama bottoms and a
t-shirt. “Ernie and I just sat down from dancing and you weren’t sitting at our table - I thought
you had just stepped out for a moment but you never returned! - I became worried about you and
hurried up to your room…”

“How’d you know I was up in my room?” interrupted Harry, smiling slightly.

“I didn’t,” said Hermione timidly. “I guessed.”

“Not only are you brilliant witch Hermione,” said Harry complimentarily, picking up *Secrets
of Potions: Made Easy*, “but you’re a great guesser too.”

Hermione smiled nervously as she ran her fingers in the lower ends of her hair, trying not to
look too pleased with herself.

“Too bad you’re not brilliant enough to see that I’m in love with you,” said Harry in an
undertone, pretending to read *Secrets of Potions: Made Easy.*

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” said Harry casually.

“What happened to you Harry?” asked Hermione again, stepping completely into his room and
sitting in the chair that Emma had been in. “Why did you leave?”

“You know that bad headache I had before?” said Harry, impressed with how quickly and natural
his excuse came out, as Hermione nodded. “Well, it was really killing me and I headed for the
hospital wing and told Madam Pomfrey about my head throbbing. She gave a potion to relieve it and
said to say in bed for the rest of the night.”

He felt guilty having to lie to Hermione like that, but it spared him the pitying Hermione would
probably give him if he told her he left because he felt left out and was the only one to attend
the Valentines Day Ball dateless.

“And why aren’t you in bed then?” said Hermione with raised eyebrows.

“I don’t need to,” said Harry simply, relieved that he wasn’t lying.

Hermione still looked bothered.

“But if Madam Pomfrey said -”

“The dancing only stopped now?” said Harry with a grimace, trying to change the subject. He
looked at a wall in the direction of the Great Hall as if he had x-ray vision. “But,” -There was
still faint music coming from the Great Hall - “I can still hear music…”

“The Ball isn’t over,” corrected Hermione, shaking her head. “Ernie and I took a break from
dancing…”

“You should head back down then,” suggested Harry sadly, still looking at the same spot on the
wall. He could feel his heart tugging in his chest; he did not want her to leave.

“I’m sure he can stand me being away from him for a little while,” said Hermione, crossing her
legs at the knees and settling herself more comfortablely in the chair. “He knows I’m up here to
check on you - You don’t mind the company for a little while more do you?” she asked hopefully.

“Not at all,” said Harry, with a satisfaction that Hermione was with him rather than someone
else. “The Ball is over for me though,” he said simply. There was a far way look in his eyes as
though something was occupying mind. “ And I really wanted to…”

He paused before going on, catching himself of what he was about to say; He really wanted to
dance with Hermione.

“Wanted to what?” she asked curiously.

“Well - I was… I was kind of hoping that - I would get to - to dance… that’s all,” said Harry in
the most relaxed voice he could muster, avoiding eyes. He found it could be said with little
difficulty at all, probably because he was so used to hinting to Hermione all the time. He could
feel her trying to catch his gaze, then added in a whisper, “With you, actually…”

“Me?” Hermione said softly, giving him an astonished sort of look, and blushing. “You wanted to
dance with… with *me*?”

“Would you dance with me Hermione?” asked Harry seriously, slightly frowning, looking into her
eyes, his voice a little high pitched than usual.

“Actually - I’ve… been saving a dance for you Harry,” admitted Hermione, smiling in a sheepishly
cute way that he loved. “I was just… waiting for you to ask…”

Harry, who found himself smiling now, and who had felt his heart swell with joy knowing that
Hermione was actually saving a dance for him, found his fingernails very interesting at the moment.
“But it’s too late for that now… I’m not even dressed -”

“Says who?” said Hermione softly, getting up from her chair, walking around Harry’s desk, and
tugging him up by the arm. “It’s not late.”

“Hermione? What -?” said Harry uneasily, as she dragged him hand in hand onto a big circular rug
right in the center of the room between the desk and the door. Hermione produced a wand from the
inside of her dress robes and with a flick of her wrist, the room illuminated with a voice.

“Thank you,” came Malia’s voice, one of the singers of *Wizandwitch, over* the ravishing
applause. Hermione smiled with a pleased sort of look and stowed her wand away.

“Impressive,” grinned Harry faintly, looking around at the upper part of the room, like Hermione
did, as if he were to find speakers. Though many floors away, it sounded like he and Hermione were
in the middle of Great Hall, the applause and Malia’s voice loud and clear.

“This next song is dedicated to you ladies out there,” came Malia’s voice passionately, as the
applause dimmed, “who came with your date tonight just as friends… and you wonder… why your heart
is beating so quickly… and to you guys out there… a message that the girls may be telling you…”

“Dance with me?” said Hermione earnestly, smiling up at Harry, just as a soft, yet mild
introduction music filled the room.

Harry blinked and nodded sincerely, feeling his insides fill with butterflies. He stepped closer
to Hermione and put one hand on her waist, preparing to hold her other hand with his free one.
Instead, she pressed her hands to his chest and snaked her hands up to his collarbone, over his
shoulders, and around his neck, hugging him around his upper back; she was so close to him that she
rest the side her head on the upper part of his shoulder.

Harry swallowed looking down at the side of Hermione’s head, slightly nervous at her take in
action of how close and comfortable she made herself with him. How should he hold her now? The
usual formal way of dancing, which was what Harry was planning on doing, didn’t seem to fit when
Hermione was holding him with both arms around his neck.

He cautiously snaked both hands around her waist, anticipating a squirm of uncomfortableness or
a retort. Hermione didn’t object to anything; she seemed to sigh in content when Harry interlocked
his fingers behind her lower back. They already began to sway to the beginning introduction to the
song before Malia started singing.

**I could lose, my heart tonight,**

**If you, don’t turn and walk away.**

**Cuz the way I feel I might, lose control,**

**And let you stay.**

**Cuz I could, take you in arms,**

**And never, let go.**

Harry breathed in deep the scent that was Hermione; it engulfed his sinuses and intoxicated him
so much he felt light-headed. This time, the song seemed to be in the eyes of a girl, who
apparently loved some guy.

Harry closed his eyes lazily and once again, however, the words to the song were so powerful,
his mind clicked and images popped into his head. *He had an image of himself holding Hermione
somewhere outside, who was gazing intently at him, their bodies touching, a look of longing on her
face, and Harry staring avidly back at her. He shifted, but Hermione shifted back, pulling him
closer to her.*

Harry smiled.

**I could fall, in love, with you.**

**I could fall, in love, with you.**

*Harry’s image vanished and it blurred into another image of him dragging Hermione around
somewhere in Hogsmeade. Hermione, looking jovial and having a great time, though there was a slight
pained yet happy look to her eyes, that said, ‘I wish he was my boyfriend… He’s so
perfect…’*

*Harry looked as though he was having the best time of his life, just spending time with one
of his best friends, however didn’t take notice of Hermione’s eyes, which hid a daring
secret.*

Harry instinctively tightened his grip around Hermione as they danced and swayed slowly to the
beautiful song. Did Hermione notice? What would she say? He become conscious about what he had done
and became worried, but as Hermione tightened her grip around him in response, that moment passed
quickly.

**I can only wonder how,**

**Touching you, would make me feel.**

**But if I take that chance right now,**

**Tomorrow, will you want me, still.**

Harry sighed nervously and tried to find some way to hold Hermione stronger without her
noticing.

Hermione shifted her arms that were wrapped around Harry and dragged them down so that her
elbows were bent and sandwiched between their bodies. Her hands, however, cupped the sides of
Harry’s neck just under his jaw.

His eyes went wide with surprise as he looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, her head back
slightly, and her lips slightly parted as she caressed the side of his face with her soft hands, as
if she were trying to guess what was in front of her by feeling it.

**So I should, keep this to myself,**

**And never, let you know…**

**I could fall, in love, with you.**

**I could fall, in love, with you.**

She let her head bobble forward and their foreheads consequently touched. Harry was pretty sure
Hermione knew very well what she was doing; she was breathing deep and panting softly to herself,
her fingers sometimes just trailing his skin and other times her palms on full contact around his
jawbone, her eyes still closed.

Harry’s mind raced. What was it that she was trying to do? Whatever it was, he let her continue
because her hands on his face felt too good for him to protest.

**And I know it’s not right,**

**And I guess I should try,**

**To do what I should do,**

**But I could fall in love, fall in love, with you…**

**I could fall, in love, with you…**

Harry couldn’t explain it. Perhaps it was when Hermione pressed her body more firmly against
him. Maybe it was when Hermione shifted her face in such a way so that their noses were now
touching. Or maybe because they were magically connected by the mind… but somehow… strangely… the
song felt…different. It didn’t feel like a song was being sung to the both of them and they were
dancing to it, but… it felt more like… Hermione was talking to him… through the song…

**So I should, keep this to myself,**

**And never, let you know,**

**I could fall, in love, with you…**

“No…” whispered Harry gently, he too closing his eyes like Hermione, their foreheads still
touching. “Don’t keep it to yourself…”

Transfixed at how daring he had said those words, unsure what had brought him to say them.
Though aware what he had just said, it was of course, assuming that Hermione was “talking to him
through the song.” But what if she wasn’t? She probably think him mental now that he had just said,
“No, don’t keep it to yourself,” out of the blue.

“I’m scared Harry…” Hermione whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m scared to tell you…”

“Tell me what…?” breathed Harry. His mind became suddenly odd and clear. As far as he was
concerned, it was just him and Hermione; nothing else mattered now that she was in his arms while
they talked freely. They were still swaying to the song, their bodies close together, their
foreheads touching, their eyes still closed and never wavering, but Hermione didn’t answer him; she
just shook her head side to side a fraction of an inch and bit her bottom lip.

“Is it wrong to like me?” sighed Harry softly with dejection.

“No… it’s not…” sighed Hermione delicately shaking her head slightly. She gripped the sides of
his neck and pressed her forehead into his more firmly. Though his eyes were closed, Harry could
feel her warm breath near his lips.

**I could fall, in love, with you…**

**I could fall in love, I could fall in love, with you…**

“Could you?” sighed Harry tenderly, as if it was Hermione that had said this instead of the
song.

“I could do more than that…” breathed Hermione soothingly, not opening her eyes. “I could… I
could be your…”

But Harry didn’t hear what Hermione could be. Though his eyes were still closed, he knew that
she was much to close…

**I could fall… fall in love… with you…**

**I could fall… in love… with… you…**

**A/N:**

**To all of you that read my stories…**

**Thank you very much! You are the ones that keep me going with my writings.**

**To those that give me constructive criticism…**

**Thank you too! Sometimes I need a good kick in the !@#$%.**

**To those that hate this story…**

**I’m sorry that it’s not going your way, but if you really hate it so much, don’t read
it.**

**To those that wonder why this story is so damn long…**

**You know something? I’m just as surprised to see how long this fic came to be. This story
came to me in a dream one night. Since the dream only lasted as long as I slept, it seemed like I
could get it all in, but turns out, it’s a lot longer than I thought it would be when you have to
put it into words.**

**To all of you in general…**

**This story somehow seems rushed and garbled in some places. I have it all in my head, the
trouble is that I have a very hard time putting it into words for other people to see and
understand (I want to make sure that all of you see it in every detail that I see it).**

**I’m leaving for Vegas on July 2nd and I’ll be there for about two weeks, which
will get in the way of my updates…**