She WILL be mine...

kyc639

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 22/03/2004
Last Updated: 26/04/2004
Status: completed

Harry realizes his feelings for Hermione and develops an elaborate plan to get her to notice him

Chapters

1. The Beginnings of a Plan...

2. Plan A

3. Plan B

4. Plan C

5. I love it when a plan comes together

1. The Beginnings of a Plan...

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or places that appear in my story, and I make no money off of this. In fact, I’m probably losing money since I’m writing this while at work.

Summary: Harry realizes his feelings for Hermione and develops an elaborate plan to get her to notice him.

My first story on Portkey! Yay! Anyways, a big thanks to my beta Tawny Spitfyre for fixing all my lazy mistakes, and shame on me if I ignored any of her corrections. And if you don’t like it, you can blame Sandra for poking me and making me put this here :P

She WILL be Mine - Part I

Hogsmeade weekend. Two words that can brighten any day, lighten any mood. Well, unless you’re a first or second year, or happen to have a wrongly-accused-mass-murderer-who-betrayed-your-parents-but-really-didn’t after you. But since I was a seventh year now, and because no one was out to do me in (for a change), those two little words made me a happy camper. Even though Dumbledore, that bastard (not that I’m bitter), decided not to make me Head Boy (because obviously saving the world from Voldemort isn’t Head Boy material…did I mention that I wasn’t bitter?), in this case it was probably a blessing in disguise. I never could simply kick back and relax in the past, what with the Dursleys and then Voldemort, so I didn’t need the responsibility of Head Boy interfering with my desire for some juvenile entertainment. I was also ‘of age’ now, so I figured it was time for something a bit stronger than butterbeer.

I was eagerly waiting to go, standing in the entrance with my best friend, that redheaded freaky-tall Ron Weasley. We were waiting for our other best friend, Hermione Granger, who, as the years have gone by, seems to take longer and longer to get ready for things. Now, to no one’s surprise, Hermione was Head Girl, but I wasn’t really worried that she’d be an obstacle to my making a fool out of myself. After all, she knows all the crap I’ve had in my life, so I thought she’d let me have one night of stupidity, though I was sure I would get a lecture in the morning. Besides, she let me sneak into Hogsmeade when it meant both risking my life and breaking rules, so I doubted she’d have much to say about this.

“God, where is she?” Ron complained, watching as student after student went on their merry way.

“I dunno, but it’s definitely cutting into my drinking time!”

Ron laughed. “Whoa! Big talk from a wizard who hasn’t ever tasted anything stronger than butterbeer!”

I punched Ron in the shoulder. “Shut it! We’ll see who’s standing at the end of the night, and who needs to be carried home.”

Before Ron could retort, Hermione came bounding up to us. “Sorry,” she said lightly. “Ready to go?”

We nodded and headed out towards Hogsmeade, Ron taking the usual jibes at Hermione’s punctuality. It really is a mystery; this girl is so anal about being on time for class, and yet she can be counted on to be late for things like a Hogsmeade trip. I just laughed at the familiar light-hearted bickering between my two best friends. Ron checked his watch as we entered the village. “Where to first? We have about an hour before we have to meet the others at Hog’s Head.”

“Well,” I said as we walked, “there’s Honeydukes and the Quidditch shop, and the bookstore for Hermione…” I trailed off as I noticed Hermione fidgeting a bit. “What’s up, Hermione?”

“Well, I…uh…”

“Spit it out Hermione,” Ron said.

“I won’t be able to go to Hog’s Head with you guys. I sorta have a date…”

Ron and I both stopped walking at the same time, which caused Hermione to stop and look back at the two of us. “A…a date?” I asked incredulously.

“With who?” Ron demanded.

“Ernie. Ernie Macmillan.”

I was still in a bit of shock, so I’m glad Ron was able to recover quickly. “Macmillan? Head Boy Macmillan? Why didn’t you tell us?” Ron looked upset.

“That’s why!” Hermione said. “Because I knew you two would go into ‘overprotective older brother’ mode, and I would never hear the end of it. Plus, you two would harass poor Ernie.”

“We would not,” Ron said, sounding affronted. “We’d simply have a chat with him, that’s all. Right, Harry? Um…Harry?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said, coming out of a daze. “Uh, listen, you just go ahead Hermione. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

Hermione gave me a smile. “Thanks Harry,” she said. She gave Ron a glare, and then took off down the street, suspiciously in the direction of Madam Puddifoot’s.

“Why’d you do that for?” Ron demanded.

“There’s nothing we can do about it now. Let’s…let’s just go to the Quidditch shop, okay?”

Ron agreed, but he grumbled a bit under his breath along the way. As for myself, it took me a while to figure out exactly what I was feeling. I admit I was pretty shaken when Hermione mentioned her date, but the question was why? Why should I care? Shouldn’t I be happy for her? After all, she’s my best friend; she’s always been there for me in the past, I should be there for her now, supporting her. Just because she’s spent her time with us in the past, doesn’t mean that she’s obligated to always be with us. It’s not like I expect her to always be with me, right? It’s not like I think she should always be by my side and not with anyone else, unless it’s Ron or another girl. It’s not like I need Hermione to be with me in order to have fun and be myself, or that I miss her already so much that my initial excitement about the day is gone, or that I suddenly feel like kicking a little Hufflepuff arse. No, it’s not because of any of those reasons.

And then, right there in the middle of the Quidditch shop, looking at a pair of Seeker gloves, it struck me: it was all of those reasons, and more. I was in love with her. I was in love with Hermione Granger, my best friend of seven years.

Damn. How did that happen, and why didn’t I notice it earlier? And now she was off on a date with that Goddamn Ernie Macmillan. And though that was my most immediate concern, I had a bigger worry: did Hermione view me as anything more than just a friend? Did she even think I was attractive?

I figured I could simply ask her, and then right after that, Snape and I could reminisce about the good times with my Dad over a few butterbeers. No, I was much too deathly afraid of rejection. Since Hermione had never shown that kind of interest in me, I would have to do something to let her know that I’m nothing more than a love machine, or more realistically, that I’m date-worthy material. I needed to come up with a plan. All of a sudden, I understood what Voldemort must have felt like when he was plotting things. I steepled my fingers and gave a little evil laugh. “She will be mine,” I said softly, “Oh yes, she will be mine.”

“What was that mate?”

Crap. “Um, I said that she will be fine.”

“Yeah, probably. Macmillan’s a good guy, prim and proper. But we’ll still have a little chat with him, right?”

“Of course.” We left the Quidditch shop for Honeydukes, and Ron rambled on about something or another. My mind, however, was in high gear, contemplating how best to get Hermione to notice me.

*********

So, predictably, the rest of the night was a bust. Leave it to Hermione to ruin my night of drunken carousing when she’s not even there. I knew I couldn’t do anything that night short of ‘coincidentally’ running into them on their date, but I wanted Hermione to notice that I’m a man, not that I’m a jerk. But despite my best efforts, I couldn’t stop thinking about Goddamn Ernie Macmillan with my Hermione. Hufflepuffs are supposed to be patient…those hands of his better be patient, or I’ll give him a just and loyal fist to the jaw!

Fortunately, no one seemed to notice my preoccupation; the other Gryffindors were either too drunk to notice, or they must have figured that I’m one of those quiet and pensive drunks. I managed to excuse myself early on, and since no one’s out to kill me this year - knock on wood - Ron wasn’t too concerned. I just happen to be wandering Hogsmeade a bit in the twilight (not because I was looking for Hermione or anything) when I spotted her with Goddamn Ernie Macmillan and a group of seventh year Hufflepuffs. The good news was that she wasn’t alone with Goddamn Ernie Macmillan, but the bad news was that she looked like she was having a good time. She didn’t see me, so I managed to slink away unnoticed, back to the castle.

I spent the rest of the night devising my grand master plan. Actually, I wasted about two hours trying to think of a cool name for the plan, rather than doing any actual planning. I mean, I just couldn’t call it ‘The Plan’ – that’s lame. I needed a good acronym, something that could inspire the troops, and something better than S.P.E.W. I mean, come on! If Voldemort could turn ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle’ into ‘I am Lord Voldemort,’ surely I could devise something equally clever. I kept having problems with the ‘H’ in Hermione; not a lot of words have an ‘H’ in the middle of them. Unfortunately, I couldn’t think of anything…I blame the butterbeer.

The next step was to actually come up with ‘The Plan (name pending)’ itself. Now, I didn’t intend to change my personality; after all, I wanted Hermione to love me for me, not for some image of me. All I really wanted was just to get Hermione to consider the possibility that raising a bunch of bushy, black haired children with bad teeth and bad eyes with me would be nice. Once she noticed me, then I could rely on the whole best friend thing to convince her that we’re soul mates. I decided to start by making a mental list:

Things on my side:

· I’ve known Hermione for seven years now. I know her better than anyone else, even Ron.

Things against me:

· While I know Hermione the person, I don’t really know Hermione the girl. I have no idea what kind of guy she’s looking for because that’s not the kind of thing we ever talk about.

· Times like these, a father or godfather would come in handy for advice. Alas, I seem to be lacking in both those areas. Lupin would be good, but unfortunately he’s off in Australia or something.

· And though this kind of situation calls for a best friend, I obviously can’t go to Ron. It’s not that I think he likes Hermione; for some reason, that infatuation mysteriously went away right after he was locked in an empty classroom with Lavender. It’s just that his ‘older brother’ mentality will be a hindrance, once he’s done laughing at me, of course.

· Asking for advice from anyone else is out of the question. Not only would I not feel comfortable, but given how small the school is, the fact that I fancy Hermione would be common knowledge by Monday.

Looking over the list, I realized that I was pretty much screwed. Not only did I have little idea where to begin, but I had to come up with a plan all on my own, which, based on my prior plans, did not bode well for the future. In the past, my plans generally consisted of:

· Find wand.

· Put wand in hand.

· Attack!

Although, for more complex situations, I might add the step ‘get Invisibility Cloak.’ Either way, this plan would require just a tad more forethought than my usual effort.

So, what did I know about the kinds of guys that Hermione likes? Did she look for brains, looks, or a sense of humor? Thinking back over the years, I finally identified three men that Hermione had shown an interest in: Gilderoy Lockhart, Victor Krum, and Goddamn Ernie Macmillan. True, I still wasn’t one hundred percent clear on what exactly went on between Krum and Hermione, but she did go to the Yule Ball with him, and a sample size of two just wouldn’t do at all. So, now all I had to do was figure out what each of the three had in common, and I was all set. No problem, right?

Doomed. I was absolutely doomed.

******

2. Plan A

She WILL be Mine - Part II

I woke up the next morning feeling very tired; I think I expended too much energy thinking last night – I’m not used to such effort. I went down to breakfast with Ron and Hermione like usual, except this time I purposely lagged behind a bit so I could observe Hermione’s arse. I had never done that before, and it was pretty fun. It was also pretty difficult, what with her wearing her robes and all, but I had a pretty good imagination to make up for it.

Breakfast was going along fine until Ron started asking about that Goddamn Ernie Macmillan. I’d forgotten that we were supposed to talk about it, and I realized that I didn’t want to hear anything about their date. I lost my appetite and claimed that I had forgotten something back at the dorms. Ron looked a little ticked off, obviously expecting my support when grilling Hermione. It usually takes the two of us working together to talk to Hermione about things like this; she’s too smart for just one of us and usually ends up having us agree with her without knowing it unless we’re careful. I gave Ron an ‘I’m sorry’ look and fled the Great Hall, but not before noticing Hermione’s predatory look at Ron. Poor guy. Over the next several hours, while I should have been doing homework, I devised my plan. I tried to think what Lockhart, Krum, and that Goddamn Ernie Macmillan had in common, and frankly I came up blank. So, I decided to take them one at a time.

Gilderoy Lockhart. What was it about that flake that Hermione liked so much? Okay, true, I’ve heard that he’s a decent-looking fellow. Not that I noticed that myself, you understand; it’s not like I look at a guy and have any opinion whatsoever on things like that. Not that there’s anything wrong, mind you, if somebody does do that, all I’m saying is that I don’t. I just happened to overhear a bunch of girls talking about him, that’s all. Clear?

Good. Okay, where was I? Oh, right. Lockhart. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do in the ways of improving my looks; I was sorta stuck with what Mamma and Big Daddy Potter gave me. For the briefest of seconds I considered using a glob of Sleekeasys on my hair to get that wavy thing Lockhart had going, but I think that crosses the line between hygiene and primping. Maybe Hermione was impressed by all the things he did (which, at the time, we actually thought he did)? At first, I didn’t think this would help me, since Hermione’s been by my side for all of my ‘adventures.’ But then I realized that she really hasn’t, at least, not in the end. It’s always been just me at the end, from first year all the way to the time I beat Voldemort like an old drum. Though, in third year we were together throughout, but that was all right, since I think I already milked the whole ‘Harry can cast a corporeal Patronus’ thing to death. And though I told both Ron and Hermione the after-action reports, I usually kept the details to the minimum. Maybe if she knew all the details, perhaps embellished a bit, she would see me in a new light? Sounds like a plan to me.

Now I just needed the perfect moment to bring up the past adventures; it would sound a bit forced if I just went up to Hermione and said, “Hey, remember that time when I was tied to a tree by Death Eaters and saw Wormtail cut off his own hand? Good times…good times.” So, I waited until after dinner, when all the Gryffindors were hanging around the fire, just chatting away. Hermione was there too, though she was splitting her attention between the conversation and an Arithmancy book.

“…ours is the best,” Dean was saying. “You gotta admit: the lion’s pretty wicked.”

“An eagle’s not bad,” Pavarti said. “Very majestic.”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “But I feel bad for Hufflepuff. I mean, honestly, a badger? What can you do with that? Do badgers even growl?”

“Well, it’s better than a snake. Eww!” Lavender made a face of disgust.

I saw my chance. “If you don’t like snakes, you would have absolutely hated the basilisk I killed back in second year.”

All right, I admit it, I wasn’t exactly Dr. Smooth with the transition there, but I was getting pretty antsy. We’d been chatting for an hour now, and I was getting desperate. A period of silence followed, where I fear that I made a tactical error, but I knew I could always count on one of the Creeveys.

“Wow, Harry,” Colin said in his usual excited voice. “If you hadn’t killed the basilisk, I’d probably still be petrified!” Okay, technically not true, since Professor Sprout would’ve still grown the Mandrakes, but who was I to argue? After that the questions came fast and furious. I was pretty sure that I would get that reaction, since apart from Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore, I never told anyone about the crap I’ve been through. My housemates were more than curious and very, very eager to hear the story. For once, I was glad that the Creevey brothers were nearby. Usually they’re pests, but they definitely helped ‘The Plan (name pending),’ since the little guys could be counted on to gush on about anything I did or said, no matter how trivial (“The casserole tastes good today.” “Really, Harry? You think so? That’s awesome, Harry! You’re the best, Harry!”).

Since Ron was there, I was careful to make sure his part sounded more heroic then it actually was; Ron still got a bit jealous at times. Rather than say how Lockhart was defeated by a broken wand, I made Ron sound more proactive, which wasn’t hard since really all he did at the time was just sit there. Our housemates were more than obliging, gasping and being very impressed with me slaying the dreaded basilisk and defeating the enchanted diary. Even Ginny was impressed, since she had been unconscious until the end. Occasionally I would throw a glance over at Hermione, and I was a little disconcerted to see her frowning most of the time. Hopefully that was because of the Arithmancy. After about an hour regaling the Gryffindors with my tales of bravery and taking questions, Hermione closed up shop and said she was tired. I excused myself from the others and chased after her.

“Hermione!” I called out, catching up with her just before she reached the steps to the girls’ dormitories. “Are you all right? I noticed you seemed a bit…frowny back there.”

Hermione sighed. “I just…it’s nothing Harry. Good night.”

She turned to go up the stairs, but I caught her arm. “What is it, Hermione? You can tell me. Please.”

She looked at me a bit apprehensively. “Now, don’t get me wrong, Harry, but…but I guess I never expected you to be like that.”

Huh? “Huh? Like what?”

“I don’t know…just being so proud about your accomplishments.”

“I shouldn’t be proud?”

“No, no,” she said quickly. “You should be proud, you’ve done so many great things; saved so many lives.”

Now I was really confused. “Then what-”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I never thought you’d…boast so much. I always saw you as the quiet, humble type, who didn’t need that kind of attention to make yourself feel good.” She must’ve seen my face fall, for she added, “Maybe I’m just tired, Harry. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I watched her walk up the stairs and then I slumped onto the stairway leading to the boys’ dorms. She seemed so…disappointed in me. What happened? What went wrong? Lockhart always went on and on about his accomplishments! ‘The Plan (name pending)’ seemed to backfire; I think I lost points with her tonight. I looked back at the group of Gryffindors by the fire, and got even more depressed as I was sure they would want to talk about the basilisk some more. Without saying anything, I trudged upstairs to my room. Today was definitely a bust, but there was always Plan B.

********

A/N: Wow! Talk about being overwhelmed by reviews! I’m used to getting eight to ten per chapter at the most over on fanfic, so my head is swimming a bit. Thanks everyone who reviewed, and I hope you enjoyed this next bit.

3. Plan B

Here’s the next bit with two bits to go. A big thanks to my beta Tawny Spitfyre!

She Will be Mine - Part III

I waited a couple of days before trying out Plan B; I first had to “reset” my relationship with Hermione back to ‘Condition: normal’ before trying to elevate it to ‘Condition: snogs away!’ It took a couple days of being extra humble, but in the end I had her smiling as usual. So, now that I had her right where I wanted her (well, almost), it was time for Plan B, a little something I liked to call ‘Plan B: Victor Krum’ (obviously being sober hadn’t helped my creativity when it came to naming my plans). Again, I didn’t know if she was actually attracted to the guy or not, but she did get herself all dolled-up for him and accompany him to the Yule Ball. I mean, Hermione doesn’t put Sleekeasy’s in her hair for just anyone, so there had to be something about VK that Hermione found at least a little bit attractive; the trick was finding it.

Was it his fame? I dismissed that immediately, since I was many times more famous than he was. All he really had was his Quidditch, while not only did I save the wizarding world by defeating the most feared wizard of the past half-century, but I head-to-head I beat VK in the Tri-wizard Tournament, and I was only fourteen at the time. I’d pretty much wipe the dungeons with him now; bring it on, Krum!

Was it his Quidditch? Again, not likely. Hermione was never the biggest Quidditch fan in the first place, and besides, I’m a much better Seeker then he is. True, maybe he was better back when he was here for the Tournament, but I was only fourteen then; I’m loads better now. No, it wasn’t either his fame or his Quidditch, since I rate higher in both categories.

Wait, wasn’t I supposed to be humble? Oh yeah…stupid VK, he brings out the worst in me.

I guess it boiled down to personality, but to be honest, I had a hard time believing that. I mean, he’s not exactly…fun to be around. In fact, he’s downright grouchy. Does Hermione like grouchy? Nah. Maybe she liked how he always followed her around? But no, I remember her being pretty annoyed by that. Frankly, besides his fame, VK didn’t seem to have anything that would appeal to Hermione; the guy even had bad posture and walked funny, sorta like a duck.

Well, on the one hand, he was a bit of the opposite of Lockhart. Where Lockhart was very proud of his (stolen) accomplishments, VK accepted his fans but didn’t encourage them. His grumpy attitude actually discouraged them if anything, and he was a bit aloof to all the girls who wanted his autograph. Okay then, now I was cooking. I had my Plan B: grumpy and aloof, play ‘hard to get.’ Girls like that, right?

I set about it early one day. I was cranky during breakfast, grouchy during class, and irritable during lunch. I wasn’t exactly rude to the countless students who seemed to follow me around, but I wasn’t very accommodating either. During lunch I feared I might have taken the grumpy bit a bit too far, since Hermione seemed more annoyed by my attitude as opposed to looking like she was starting to find me irresistible. I dialed down the grumpiness a bit after that. I remained in this state for the rest of the day and the better part of the next, acting a little grouchy and not talking to Hermione as much as I usually do, though I grunted a lot. I actually thought things were going well until it all came to a head that night in the library.

I was sitting at the usual table with Hermione, doing homework. Ron was off with Lavender studying Divination, reading each other’s tea leaves, if you know what I mean (actually, that was pretty bad, but there’s not much innuendo when it comes to Divination, unless I want to be crude and refer to Ron’s crystal ball). Things were going well - I was successfully ignoring Hermione and grunting every now and then - when two girls that looked like they were around our year approached the table.

“Hi Harry, hi Hermione,” one of them, the darker haired girl, said.

Hermione looked up and said hi; I just grunted.

“Harry?” the lighter haired girl asked, “we were wondering if you could help us with this assignment in Defense?”

I looked up at the two girls. “Vhy – I mean why me?” I said in my best “go away” voice.

The girls looked a little taken aback, apparently not used to me being a grouch. “Well…uh,” the lighter haired girl stammered.

“Listen,” I said irritably. “I still have a lot of homework to do. I’ll help you if I can later, okay?”

“Er, okay Harry,” light hair said, looking a bit anxious.

“Sorry to bother you,” dark hair said, but her tone sure didn’t convey sorrow. The two girls walked back to their own table, and I returned to my parchment. After a second or two, I could feel someone looking at me, so I raised my head and saw Hermione giving me a look of disapproval.

“What?” I asked.

“That wasn’t very nice, Harry.”

“You mean those girls?” I asked, gesturing in their general direction.

“Yes. They were just asking for a little help. Even if you couldn’t help them now, you could’ve been more polite about it.”

“Honestly, Hermione,” I said, thinking how VK would respond in a case like this. “Am I expected to help every stranger who comes to me asking for help?”

Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise. “Stranger?”

“Yeah, stranger. I don’t even know if I can help them; even if they aren’t seventh years, we haven’t exactly followed the same Defense curriculum every year.”

Now she positively boggled at me, and I was getting a bit worried. “Are you serious, Harry?”

“Uh…yeah?” I said, though I wasn’t a little afraid where this was going.

“Harry Potter! Those two girls are not strangers! I’ve shared a room with them for the past six years!”

Now it was my turn to boggle. “What?”

“Harry, we’ve shared every single class with them since our first year. They’re your housemates, for God’s sake!”

“Hold on, hold on,” I said quickly. “You mean to tell me that there are two more sixth year Gryffindors girls at Hogwarts, and not once in the past six years have their names ever come up? That there’ve been two unnamed Gryffindor girls all this time?” Hermione glared at me. “Well,” I said a bit sheepishly, “they must be very quiet then.”

Hermione shook her head exasperatedly. “You mean to tell me you never noticed them before?”

I took a moment and thought hard. “There was that time in third year with the boggarts…I think.”

“What’s gotten into you Harry?”

“I’m sorry. But I honestly can’t recall ever hearing them mentioned before. It’s not like you ever talk about them or Ron-”

“That’s not what I mean, Harry,” she said, her face a strange mixture of concern and annoyance. “You’ve been acting very strangely the past couple days; frankly, you’ve been a jerk, and I don’t like it.”

Ah crap. Not exactly the reaction I was going for, was it? “Well…I…”

“Are you feeling all right? Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?”

Stupid Plan B…stupid, stupid, stupid. “Um, no. I – I’m sorry I’ve been a jerk, Hermione. I really am. I promise I’ll be back to normal from now on, okay?”

She looked a bit dubious, but she nodded. “Okay Harry. I hope so.”

For the rest of the night I buried myself in my homework. So far, ‘The Plan (name pending)’ was a gigantic failure. Both Plans A and B backfired on me, and I find myself spending more time trying to get back in Hermione’s good graces than I spend trying to seduce her. I briefly considered ditching Plan C and just plain asking her on a date, but I had already come this far. So, next up, Plan C; third time’s the charm, they say. I hope ‘they’ are right.

******

Author’s Notes: Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing! I think one comment I get a lot is that Harry seems very out-of-character. While that’s probably true, I actually think he is in character, and here’s why. First, we all know Harry has a rather dry and sarcastic sense of humor, especially in OotP. Some of my favorites (I don’t have the books in front of me, so please excuse any misquotes):

“Not this brave at night, are you?” sneered Dudley.

“This is night, Diddykins. That’s what we call it when it goes all dark like this.” (Chapter 1)

“Harry, don’t go picking a row with Malfoy, don’t forget, he’s a prefect now. He could make like difficult for you…”

“Wow, I wonder what it’d be like to have a difficult life?” said Harry sarcastically. (Chapter 13)

“Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher,” said Harry loudly, “there was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head.” (Chapter 15)

And I think it can be agreed that Harry was a tad bitter in OotP. So, I see Harry has having a dry, sarcastic sense of humor, sometimes bitter, which I tried to write. I added in a greater-than-normal fear of rejection, because I figure after living with the Dursleys and then having the wizarding world love him and hate him in the same breath, the guy’s got to be super insecure.

4. Plan C

4/23/04: here’s the next bit. Sorry for being so late; I wanted to get FF.net caught up. Thanks for reviewing!

She Will be Mine - Part IV

Once again, I found myself waiting a couple of days before I could resume ‘The Plan - Alternative C.’ As I promised Hermione, I acted my normal, wholesome self over those two days, and she did remark that she liked me better this way. Little did she know what I had in store for our Head Girl. Mwhahaha!

Er, yeah, anyways, Plan C. Plan C was based on the third person that Hermione fancied: Goddamn Ernie Macmillan. In all honesty, I do like the guy (when he doesn’t have his grubby paws all over my Hermione!), but he has been known to be a bit pompous at times. Being named Head Boy (don’t get me started on that one…I didn’t want to be Head Boy anyways, so there!) only inflated the size of his head, so much in fact that Ron took to calling him ‘Percy version 2.0.’

My rather disappointing results with Plan A led me to believe that being pompous wasn’t the way to go, though I suppose common sense should have told me that, but let’s focus on the positive, shall we? So, what did Goddamn Ernie Macmillan have that I didn’t have? I figured it had to be the grades then. Goddamn Ernie Macmillan was also more conversant with hoity-toity things, like politics and history and a bunch of other crap no one really cares about. Except Hermione. Though I never got the impression that Hermione was disappointed with my level of intelligence, maybe that’s what she liked in a wizard. After all, though I’m not sure how intelligent VK is, he was a seventh year, so I’m sure he knew a lot of interesting things (though casting a corporeal Patronus wasn’t among them…heh) So, Plan C began to take shape. Be more smarter! There’s no way this could backfire, right? I mean, how could my becoming more intelligent possibly annoy Hermione? I started my journey on smartification in the most obvious place: the library.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a spell or potion to make me smarter, so I briefly considered giving up. But I’m the Boy-Who-Lived, not the Boy-Who-Quit! I never gave up on anything, unless it involved books or homework or studying or reading or…ah hell, that pretty much describes Plan C, right? Reading and studying and all that? Oh well, I had already cleared out my calendar for this, so I might as well try it anyways.

I spent the next few days paying attention in class like I never had before. I even took notes in Professor Binns’ class – it was crazy! Hermione must have thought that had a fever when she saw that. But no, I assured her that I had turned over a new leaf; she lauged and said something about ‘better late than never.’ I also spent nearly as much time in the library as she did, excepting time for Quidditch, of course. I took to reading The Daily Prophet as well in order to become more up-to-date with current events. I even started reading some works of fiction that Hermione droned on about every now and then. Okay, it was actually the wizarding cliff notes, but still…

After about a week of reading and learning, I started dropping hints that I was brainy now. A remark here about the latest news in The Daily Prophet, a comment there about the novel Hermione was reading. Things were going along just swimmingly; but then again, I had thought that things were going well with Plans A and B, and look how they turned out.

Hermione and I were talking in the Gryffindor common room one evening when I decided to show the extent of my new-found intelligence. There was a news article that morning about the elections for Minister of Magic. Usually I care not a whit about politics, but I took the opportunity to show Hermione how well-informed I was. And let me tell you, I was magnificent! I talked about the current political landscape and threw in references to past elections. I compared Muggle and wizarding politics, and I ended with a rather brilliant commentary about the need for reform in the Ministry. I couldn’t have done better if I had researched it earlier, written it all down, and then memorized it, which of course I had. After I was done with my spiel, I looked over at Hermione, expecting her to be in awe of my magnificence, stars shining in her eyes.

Unfortunately, I don’t think she was even paying attention. “Hermione?” I asked. “Did you hear what I said?”

She started a bit and focused her eyes on me, giving off a tired chuckle. “I’m sorry Harry. It’s just that I’m not much in the mood for politics tonight.”

I was incredibly disappointed. I mean, all that effort wasted! But of course, I couldn’t let her know that. Besides, if she really wasn’t paying attention, I could always use it again later. “Ah, okay.” She then gave me an appraising look, which made me a bit nervous. “What?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I’m not sure. You’ve been acting funny again.”

“Funny? Funny how? Funny like a clown?”

She grinned. “No…funny-odd. Though I shouldn’t complain, since you are studying more, but still, you’re just a bit different.”

Hmmm…’different’ - that didn’t sound like she was suddenly discovering my manly charms. I sensed Plan C was going down in flames. “Different good or different bad?” I ventured.

She cocked her head. “Just…different. I guess I’m not used to talking about literature and politics with you, you know? I mean, I expect those types of discussions during Prefect meetings, but with you, I feel like I can be a bit more…brainless.”

Oh sh!t. Brainless? Did she just call me brainless? I felt something twist inside my chest. “Brainless?”

“Yeah,” she continued with a small smile, apparently oblivious to the fact that she was crushing my heart beneath her fashionable shoes. “You know…I can goof off with you and talk about inane things.”

I bent my head and rubbed my forehead. Did that actually just happen? Did she just call me inane? Was I just comic relief to her, a way to relax after hanging out with her more intelligent friends?

“Harry, are you all right?” I heard her ask.

“Yeah, fine,” I mumbled, still rubbing my temples. I found that I was having trouble breathing.

“Harry, you’re not fine,” she said as she reached out for me.

The second her hand came in contact with my wrist, I pulled it away rather harshly. “Don’t.”

“Harry, what’s gotten into you?” she asked.

I stood. “So that’s how you see me, huh? As some brainless idiot?”

Hermione looked surprised. “Harry, no, of course not-”

“No, I get it now. I’m just someone you go to for some mindless chatter, for when you need a break from intelligent discussion.” Some part of me knew that I was being unfair, that I was overreacting, but God my chest felt like there was something twisting around inside it. I knew I had to get out of there before I made a complete fool out of myself. I headed towards the portrait hole.

“Harry, please wait,” I heard Hermione say, and then I felt her hand on my arm.

I ripped my arm out of her grasp. “Leave me alone,” I said evenly. As I climbed out of the portrait hole, I knew that I needed to get out of there, out of the castle even. Hogsmeade, I could go to Hogsmeade and drink firewhiskey until all of this was but a hazy memory. It was my only choice.

******

5. I love it when a plan comes together

4/26/04

She Will be Mine - Part V

Hogsmeade. Firewhiskey. Drunk off my arse. These were basically the only thoughts running through my head. I held onto these thoughts like my life depended on it, because I didn’t want to dwell on any thoughts that Hermione’s words might drum up.

“Harry! Please wait!” I heard her say as I climbed out the portrait hole, but I ignored her. I started walking briskly down the corridor. After only a few steps, Hermione was suddenly by my side, pulling on my arm.

“Harry! Please stop!”

“Let go,” I said, trying to pull my arm away and walk at the same time.

“I’m sorry Harry! I didn’t mean it like that! Please don’t walk away!”

Man, this girl sure had a strong grip. I was flapping my arm like a chicken wing, and still she wouldn’t let go. But I wasn’t going to stop, even if it meant I had to drag her all the way through the hidden tunnel and out to-

Suddenly, my right leg hit something, and I lost my balance. I started to topple forward, and I instinctively put out my hands to brace my fall. I landed rather painfully, my left elbow and right palm taking the brunt of the fall. I lay there for a second, trying to process what just happened.

“Ow.”

“Oh God, Harry, I’m sorry!” Hermione squealed, and out of the corner of my eye I saw her kneel down next to me.

“Did you just trip me?” I asked quietly, incredulously.

“Well, you wouldn’t stop!” she said somewhat plaintively.

I rolled over on my back and heaved myself up to a sitting position, examining my hand and elbow. Just a few scrapes, but they stung like hell.

“Are…are you all right?” she asked tentatively.

I gave her a look. “Yeah, just peachy. Let’s see…first you call me an idiot, and then you trip me. While you’re at it, why don’t you just hop on over to the owlery so you can kill my beloved pet too?” In case you hadn’t noticed, I was a little bitter at the moment.

Hermione had an injured look on her face. “That’s not funny Harry. That’s not funny at all. I love Hedwig.” I just grunted in response. “Here, let me see,” she said, withdrawing her wand from within her robes.

I held out my palm, and she made a tricky little movement with her wand, healing my scrapes. She repeated the motion for my elbow as well. “Thanks,” I mumbled.

“Oh Harry, what I said back there, it came out all wrong. I just meant that when I’m around you, I don’t have to be so smart-”

“Ah, great,” I said sarcastically. “Clears that right up.”

“Oh, that came out all wrong, too,” she said anxiously. “I mean that I can relax around you because you’re not interested in important things like-”

I held up my hand, interrupting her. “Are you trying to make me feel better? Because if you are, you’re not doing a very good job at it.”

“Oh God, that came out all wrong too. I’m making a big mess out of it,” she said, wringing her hands in frustration.

I looked over at her; it was a rare sight, seeing Hermione flustered and stammering. And while I wanted to be mad at her, to feel all misunderstood (as she would say), Hermione just looked so damn cute kneeling there, looking all frantic and helpless. I knew at times I could be a bit of the drama queen, but honestly, if you had gone through the crap that I call life, you might be a bit overdramatic yourself. Hermione had never once, not in the past six years, ever implied that I was an idiot or stupid. I sighed. “It’s all right Hermione; I know what you mean.”

She looked hopeful. “Really?”

I nodded. “Really. I…I may have overreacted, just a tad.”

She smiled and held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Just a tad.”

I scooted over so I could lean against the wall, and Hermione sat down beside me.

“Are we okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” I replied, taking her hand and giving it a quick squeeze before letting go.

She nodded. After a second of silence, she spoke hesitatingly, “Can I ask why you reacted so…strongly?”

Uh oh. I could, of course, tell her that I had suddenly fallen in love with her and wanted to drag her off to a broom closet somewhere, but that just wouldn’t do. On the other hand, she knew me well enough to see through my lies. So, when in doubt, tell a half-truth. I shrugged casually and fiddled with the cuff of my robe. “I guess maybe I felt a little threatened by Godda- um, by Ernie.”

She looked surprised. “Ernie? Why Ernie?”

God, this girl asked a lot of questions. “Well, I guess maybe I was scared that you would spend all your time with him instead of with me…and with Ron.”

“Why on earth would I do that?”

I looked at her. “Well, you are going on with him, aren’t you?”

Hermione laughed. “Oh Harry, you big dummy! I only went out on that one date with him. I told him it wouldn’t work out between us. Honestly Harry! He’s a bit…pompous for my tastes.”

A sense of relief so strong it surprised me seemed to flood over my senses. I let out a huge sigh. “Thank God,” I muttered under my breath.

Fortunately for me, Hermione interpreted my comment as a reflection on Ernie, and not of my undying love for her. She giggled. Did I ever mention how I love to hear her giggle? Hermione’s not the giggling type, so it’s always a treat to hear her giggle. “What on earth would make you think that I would date Ernie Macmillan?”

“Well,” I said, feeling slightly defensive, “it’s not like we ever talk about things like that.”

She looked at me incredulously. “Are you kidding? We’re always talking about things like that!”

“No,” I corrected. “We always talk about Ron and his girl problems, and we’ve talked about me and Cho, but we’ve never talked about you and what you like in a guy.”

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, obviously thinking about it. Finally, “I guess you’re right.” I pumped a fist in victory, eliciting another Hermione-giggle. It was wonderful. “So,” she said, a rather mischievous look on her face, “we’ve known each other for six years now. What kind of guy do you think I like?”

I sensed danger in the question…must tread carefully. “Well, I’d have to guess based on your dating history,” I said.

“Oh, right. My rather extensive dating history,” Hermione said dryly.

It was my turn to chuckle (as a guy, I do not giggle). “Since I can’t use Ernie anymore” – it was just regular ‘Ernie’ – he was no longer to be damned by God now that I knew Hermione ditched him – “I’d have to say the kind of guy you’re interested in would be a cross between Gilderoy Lockhart and Viktor Krum.”

“What?!” Hermione shrieked, “Gilderoy Lockhart and Viktor Krum? You have got to be kidding!” Hermione was bent over, laughing hard. Gah! As I watched her double over with laughter, it began to dawn on me why the great ‘Plan (name pending)’ failed so miserably. I wish we’d had this conversation earlier.

Eventually, Hermione regained her breath. “Honestly Harry,” she said, a mirthful smile on her face, “Gilderoy Lockhart? I was twelve, for goodness’ sakes. I was impressed by his flash and by his exploits. He’s much to shallow, even if he had done any of the things he claimed to do. Although,” she added, “I did like the wavy thing he did with his hair.”

Oy! I knew I should have used Sleekeasy’s! “And Viktor?” I asked.

“Oh,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “I was just really flattered that out of all the girls pining away for him, he chose me. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice guy; it’s just that…well, he’s a bit too grouchy for my tastes.”

“Ah.” God, I felt like such a fool. Again, if only we’d had this conversation earlier, I wouldn’t have wasted my time on the ‘Plan (name pending),’ or at least come up with a better one. In fact, now that I think about it, I shouldn’t have needed the conversation; I knew Hermione well enough to know that she wasn’t impressed by exploits, that she wasn’t attracted to grumpy people, or that she didn’t need someone brainy. I would have banged my head against the wall a few times if she weren’t sitting beside me. Now though, the trick was to steer the conversation to find out what she did like in a guy. Then I could craft ‘the Plan II,’ or ‘Return of the Plan,’ or maybe ‘The Plan Strikes Back.’ I was thinking about an innocuous question to get the ball rolling when it occurred to me that she hadn’t said anything in a while. I looked over at her and immediately recognized that thoughtful expression on her face, like when she was on the verge of solving a puzzle or mystery. “Hermione?”

She slowly turned her attention back to me. “You know…” she said slowly, “you have been acting rather odd lately…”

My eyes widened. Oh crap. Excuse! Come up with an excuse! “Well, er, I was feeling a bit under the weather since Hogsmeade. It was chilly.” I shivered and made a ‘brrr’ sound for effect.

But she wasn’t listening to me – she was working out the puzzle. “First, you were bragging about the basilisk, just like Lockhart would…”

Danger danger! Distract her! “Hey, it’s getting pretty late. We should head back to the common room before we get caught out after curfew.” There, that should do it. The very idea that we would be breaking a rule should capture her attention.

“…and then, you were acting very grumpy…just like Viktor…”

Argh! Change the subject! “Speaking of Viktor, how’s he doing? Have you heard from him lately? Boy, I sure miss that guy!”

“…and just now, you were talking about politics, just like Ernie…”

There was only one option left: Run! I quickly stood up. “So, er, I’m going to bed,” – insert fake yawn here – “I’ll see you in the morning.” I walked as quickly as possible without running towards the portrait hole.

“Harry, wait.”

Ignore her! Ignore her! But my feet wouldn’t listen and stopped working. Stupid feet! I stood still, my back to her. I felt, rather than heard, her coming up behind me. She circled around me so that she was facing me. “Harry?” she asked softly. “What’s going on?”

Apparently my brain decided to shut down for the night and join my feet. “Uh…”

“Is there a reason you were emulating Gilderoy Lockhart, Viktor Krum, and Ernie Macmillan?”

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. I had never felt more exposed in my life. Plus, what the hell did ‘emulating’ mean? “Uh…”

“What’s the matter?” she asked coyly. “Cat got your tongue? Perhaps this will help.” Hermione stood up on the tips of her toes and gently pressed her lips against mine. The paralysis that had taken over my body lasted only a second longer before I regained the use of my body. I closed my eyes and kissed her back, my arms moving to encircle her around the waist. I sighed softly into her mouth as she leaned against me, her hands moving to hold my face. After a few more blissful seconds, she pulled away. I blinked open my eyes to look at her.

“Black hair, green eyes, and glasses,” she said.

My mind was far too gone at that point to make any sense of what she just said. “Huh?”

Hermione smiled. “If you had asked me what kind of guy I do like, I would have said, ‘Black hair, green eyes, and glasses’.”

I don’t think I had ever smiled so big in my life. I knew I was incapable of saying anything clever, so just pulled her in for another kiss. Just like I planned all along.

*******

A/N: And so ends the story. Special thanks to Facade for giving me an outlet to try a new style (even if she didn’t know it at the time) and Tawny for the beta. Thanks to everyone for reviewing! Oh, and gal-texter: I think the 2 unnamed girls were from PoA during the boggart scene; something about too many boggart manifestations for not enough known kids. There’s a bit about them on the lexicon (
http://www.hp-lexicon.org/hogwarts/houses/gryffindor.html#Gryffindor_girls).