Hermione's Stalker

Title: Hermione's Stalker

Author: LilPrincess48

Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter. As you can see, Harry and Hermione got together by Book 3, if not sooner. Ginny is dating Draco behind Ron’s back, there are many more mentions of Harry’s parents, Voldemort is gay, Sirius Black has been declared innocent of all charges, the Dursleys were turned into peppermints and Peter Pettigrew got his head chopped off, instead of just his finger.

… Obviously, since none of this has happened in the books, I don’t own Harry Potter.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Challenge Fic. Harry shows up on Hermione's doorstep over the summer, only to find that one of her Muggle friends is crushing on Hermione -- With stalkerish tendencies. So Harry steps up, pretending to be Hermione's guy. It's all giggles from there.

Author’s Note: It’s hot. I’m tired. I’m also lazy. But, hey, this is my second challenge. Maybe this one’s as good as the last, maybe not. Also, warning, don’t slash tires. It’s illegal, I think.

Category: Romance. Humor. Fun.

Spoilers: None. Well, books 1 – 4, and maybe 5. I haven’t read five so I may be off on a few things. Don’t kill me!

Feedback: Please.

Setting: Hogwarts, Summer between 6th and 7th Year

Date Begun: June 14, 2004

Date Posted: June 15, 2004





Chapter 1: Yes, Harry My... What?!



Hermione was about to go around to her backyard where her Mom and Dad were throwing the usual summer block party when a loud roar that sounded suspiciously like a motorcycle stopped her in her tracks. She stood on her porch, her eyes narrowing as, from out of the sky, landed a motorcycle. Riding it was none other than her best friend, Harry Potter.

"Hey Mione." He said, coming to a stop in front of her and getting off what Hermione now realized to be Sirius' bike.

Voldemort had been defeated, at last, so Harry was now free to roam around as much as he pleased, not to mention that they'd thought it fitting to leave Sirius' motorcycle to him after Black's death. Harry had been enjoying his new bike quite a bit since he got it, especially when it came to scaring the Dursleys out of their minds by threatening to ride it outside wher epeople could see him.

“Harry! What are you doing here?” Hermione shouted, rushing towards him with a bright smile on her face. She was overjoyed to see him, for more reasons than one. Not only was he her first bit of contact from the wizarding world since they’d been let out for summer break, but Hermione was also sporting quite a bit of a crush on the Boy-Who-Lived.

In addition to all that, she had the distinct feeling that she was being watched, not by somebody dangerous, but, overall, she did feel much safer with Harry around.

“Just thought I’d drop in for a visit. The Dursleys said I could stay over as long as I didn’t come back with any of my limbs.” Hermione rolled her eyes as she enveloped Harry in a hug. She couldn’t imagine why anybody would hate him as much as the Dursleys seemed to. Then again, Hermione had never thought they had much sense in the first place. “So, can I? I mean, if it’s not too much trouble for you and your family, of course.”

“Sure. We’d be happy to have you. Mum—“ Hermione was cut off as a loud cheer rang out from the backyard and a bunch of balloons floated up from behind the house and into the sky, each wearing the message: Granger Family Block Party.

“What’s going on, then?” Harry asked, setting his helmet down on the seat of the motorcycle, whipping out his wand, and saying a quick anti-theft spell. Not that he’d expect anybody to steal it anyway and whoever did was likely to bring it back after he fell from fifty feet in the air.

“We’re throwing a block party. We do this every summer you see and—“Hermione was once again cut off, this time by the appearance of some kids her age coming around the house. One was a girl with shoulder length blond hair and baby blue eyes, snapping chewing gum loud enough to make the neighbors three houses down peek out the window. The second kid was a boy with spiky black hair and brown eyes who looked more like he was ready to go cause trouble than hang around here. The last kid was a suspicious looking boy with brown hair and matching eyes, holding a bouquet of flowers in his left hand. Harry raised an eyebrow and leaned back against his motorcycle.

“Hermione,” The girl said, blowing a bubble, popping it, then smacking the gum again. “What are you doing here? Who’s he?”

Harry, personally, was willing to overlook the gum snapping and actually like this girl if she really didn’t know who he was. It was rare to find someone nowadays who wasn’t pointing at his scar and nearly causing traffic jams by darting across the street to shake his hand.

“This is Harry Potter, my—“

“Hermione,” Said the brown haired boy with the flowers, giving Harry a look that clearly said ‘Back off’. It took all Harry had not to grin in sheer amusement. “I-I got these f-for you a-and—“

“Er… Thank you Damien.” Hermione said, looking uncomfortable and taking the flowers. “I, um… They’re pretty…”

“Hermione,” The boy, Damien, began again, “I was wondering if you’d—“

“I’ve already told you, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Asked Harry, a tone of interest in his voice. “And can we head around to the party. It was a long trip and I’m kind of—“A loud rumbling from his stomach finished the sentence for him. Harry smiled sheepishly.

“Why not?” Damien protested, not moving from his spot. “You said no all the other times I asked you without telling me why.”

“What’s going on?” Harry asked again. The blonde and the black-haired boy came up on either side of him.

“I’m Delaney, by the way. And he’s Ruben. And, Damien’s been trying to get Hermione to go out with him for years now. Ever since they were ten.” The blonde explained. Harry got the definite air of a gossip from her. Ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach and chalking it up to severe hunger, he settled for a casual, “Oh?”

“Yeah. It’s getting kind of crazy. He’s started following Hermione everywhere, leaving her notes… I heard he even tried to tail her to that school she goes to all year, but, according to him, she suddenly disappeared at the train station.” Ruben explained, taking a yo-yo out of his pocket and trying to do a trick which ended with Harry getting whacked in the head.

Harry rubbed his forehead and glared at the boy, who merely laughed amusedly.

“Hermione’s getting fed up and a little creeped out. I would be too if I were her. Really glad I’m not.” Delaney said with another smack of her gum. Meanwhile, the argument between Hermione and Damien seemed to be heating up.

“I already told you, Damien! I CAN’T!”

“Why NOT?!”

“Because… Because…” Hermione seemed to be struggling for an excuse so Harry steppe din to help. He walked over to Hermione and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Because she’s my girlfriend. So, I’m sorry, but she’ll have to decline.” All three of the children – And Hermione – stared incredulously at Harry like they’d never seen him before. He felt a little uncomfortable under all the attention, but, all the same, he shot a look to Hermione that said ‘I’m helping’ and didn’t back down. Hermione gaped, her mouth opening and closing like a fish before she found her voice.

“Ye-Yes, that’s it. Harry and I are… Are a couple so I can’t go out with you, Damien. I didn’t want to tell you before, but…” Damien was practically fuming as he looked at the two of them looking so comfortable together, not that they had to try very hard for that. They were close friends, after all.

“And how long has this been going on then?” He asked, his voice laced with anger.

“Er…” Harry looked to Hermione for help.

“Since we were both thirteen. Harry and I met at school and we were great friends. Pretty soon we both started to wonder why we could never seem to pay attention to anybody else and decided we may as well try this dating thing. We’ve been together ever since.” Harry looked at Hermione in admiration, wondering if he should be worried that she could make up such a great lie on the spot, or that he kind of… Wished it were true.

“Why didn’t you say something Hermione?” Delaney practically squealed. “That’s great! And here I thought you were a dateless loser!” At the matching glares she received from Harry and Hermione, she quickly amended her statement. “I mean… I thought you weren’t… Er… I think I hear some soda being opened.”

The girl quickly retreated to the back of the house, followed by Ruben. Damien, however stayed behind, his eyes narrowed at Harry. “Fine. You better hope you appreciate her, Potter.”

Harry mentally rolled his eyes. Just what he needed. Another guy who hated his guts. He was vaguely reminded of Malfoy with the way the kid was glaring at him. The image disturbed him.

“Er… Hermione, can we, er, go get some food now?” In a lower voice he whispered, “I don’t like how he’s looking at me.”

“Sure.” Smiling brightly, Hermione took his hand and began leading him to the backyard. Once they were out of Damien’s earshot, she grinned even more. “Harry, that was brilliant! What were thinking? Oh, but that was brilliant!”

“Um, thank you. I figured you needed some help. Delaney and Ruben were telling me what was going on. Why didn’t you ever tell us at school?” Hermione shrugged at the question.

“What would be the point? You wouldn’t know who he was nor could you have done anything about it. Well, until now.” Harry had to agree with that. “And, anyway, thanks. Thanks a lot.”

“How long do you think we’ll have to keep this up before he backs off?”

"Well, Ruben told me he's got a... Shrine that has... Bits of my hair in it... In addition to..." Hermione turned bright red as she said the next part. "A pair of my knickers--" Harry snickered. "So, we may have to do this all summer."

"All the excuse to stay then." Harry wrapped his arm around Hermione's shoulder and pulled her close. "Let's go then, darling. I'm very hungry."

"Always thinking about your stomach. You've been spending too much time with Ron." Hermione unwrapped herself from his embrace and began walking, Harry not far behind her.

"Hey, Mione?"

"Yes?"

"If I successfully pull off this whole boyfriend thing... Do I get a pair of your knickers, too?"

The bottle of water that came flying towards his head gave him all the answer he needed.

Title: Hermione's Stalker

Author: LilPrincess48

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own Daniel Radcliffe. I do not own Draco Malfoy. I do not own Tom Felton. I do not own the Weasley twins, either. Must you constantly remind me of my inner turmoil???

Author's Note: Hi! I was dead, but now I'm not.

Date Begun: June 17, 2004

Date Posted: June 17, 2004



Chapter 2: Getting Into The Act



Harry came down from breakfast the next morning with his hair messier than usual, his glasses slanted on his face, and with the distinct feeling that somebody'd been in his bedroom while he was asleep. The fact that the window was open was clue number one. Clue number two was the chalk message on the wall that said 'Hermione Granger is MINE, Potter. This is war.'

Harry's only thought had been 'Great, another war' before he used a simple Scourgify spell to remove the chalk.

Harry sat down in between Hermione and Mrs. Granger at the table and began eating his eggs and bacon, enjoying every bit of it. How often had he gotten real food back at the Dursleys'? Hermione watched him in mild amusement.

"The way you eat, you'd think you've never had food before, Harry." She said with a grin. He grinned back at her after swallowing his bacon.

"Hermione, I've been at the Dursleys' for the beginning part of the summer. How much do you think I ate?" She laughed.

"Good point. Eat up then." Mr. Granger, a tall man with light brown hair and soft blue eyes, took a seat next to his wife.

"All right, Harry?" He asked, digging into his own breakfast in a very Hermione-like way: Slow, deliberate, chewing every bit individually. Harry was relieved to see that Hermione's mom's eating habits matched his own.

"Yes, Mr. Granger. Thanks for letting me stay the rest of the summer." The man laughed, a deep appreciative laugh, Harry noticed. Hermione must have gotten her laugh from her mother. He vaguely wondered why he was picking up on this, but pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

"Oh, it's no problem Harry. I was going to let you and Hermione share a room... Well, until I heard that you were dating--” Harry and Hermione, who had both been drinking their orange juice, spat it out across the table. Mrs. Granger, to Harry's surprise, only laughed as she wiped the juice from her face. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

Harry gave Hermione a 'Should I tell him' glance. Hermione put down her glass and fiddled with her napkin. "Dad, Harry and I aren't really... Together. We only said we were because... Because Damien--"

"Is that the kid with the pair of your knickers?" Hermione flushed bright red as Harry snickered again, but nodded.

"Yes, Dad. Damien was asking me out again and I was looking for a reason to say no and Harry was nice enough to step in and claim to be my boyfriend to get Damien off my back and--"

"Harry,” Mr. Granger cut her off, giving Harry a curious look. "Do you want to be Hermione's boyfriend?"

Both Harry and Hermione flushed bright red. Harry suddenly found his empty plate very interesting while Hermione’s gaze rested on the wall.

“Er… Er… Uh…” Was all Harry could get out. Mr. Granger stood.

“Right then. Harry, come with me.” Harry had no choice but to follow. Hermione wouldn’t meet his eyes and he was almost perfectly sure that Mrs. Granger was laughing at him behind the upside down copy of Reader’s Digest.

Mr. Granger led Harry outside to the front hall and stared down at the boy who was studying his shoes as if there was a very important test of shoe appearance the next day.

“Harry, you and Hermione have been friends a long time, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And during that time, you’ve had no romantic feelings for her whatsoever, right?”

Harry hesitated on his yes. He had a feeling he’d be decapitated if he lied. “Er… For most of it, sir.”

“Mmhmm. So, answer the question. Do you want to be Hermione’s boyfriend?”

“Er… Uh… Er…” Mr. Granger ran a hand through his hair. This was going to be harder than he thought.



*



Later, Harry and Hermione left the house to head into town to return a few (Twenty-five, Harry counted) books of Hermione’s back to the library.

“What was Dad talking to you about, Harry?” Hermione asked as Harry, seeing how she was struggling with the books, took the majority of them for him to carry. He flushed bright red.

“Er… He was… He gave me the… The boyfriend talk.” AT this Hermione broke out laugh, nearly dropping the four books she was left carrying.

“The boyfriend talk? But we—“

“Yeah, I know, but he figured he may as well anyway.” Harry refrained from telling her that this was after he confided in Mr. Granger that he did indeed plan to ask Hermione to be his girlfriend before they returned to Hogwarts at the end of the summer.

Hermione shook her head. “Fathers.”

Harry grinned even though he really wouldn’t know. Hermione must have read this on his face because she gasped. “Oh, Harry! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—“

“Its okay, Mione.” When she continued to apologize he held up a hand. “Really. I know you didn’t mean it.”

“It was a horrible thing to say, though.” She said, looking down. Harry sighed and put the books he was holding in a neat stack on the floor and hugged her tightly, brushing his fingers through her hair as she rested her head on his chest.

“Mione, don’t worry about it. It’s okay.” She mumbled something that made Harry laugh. “You are not as bad as Malfoy. For one, he says things like that daily. For another, he’s not as cute as you are.”

She laughed, even as her cheeks turned a nice red color. “Good point.”

“Now, stop worrying and let’s get these books back. Merlin, imagine if they were overdue—“He laughed as Hermione gasped and started walking quickly and he followed her down the sidewalks and onto a bus.

They took a seat in the back, the books taking the empty seats on either side of them. Harry took the small moment to study Hermione. She had her hair up in a messy bun and was wearing a sleeveless light blue top and snug cargo jeans. It was in Harry’s opinion that she looked beautiful, but then again, he’d seen her covered in grime, mud, and dirt, and even then he still believed her to be beautiful, so maybe he was biased.

“Hermione. Potter.” Harry looked up at the venomous way his name was spat out and was none-too-pleased to see Damien walking towards them. The boy took the seat right in front of them and the way he was looking at Hermione made Harry wrap an arm around her and hold her close.

“Good morning Damien.” Hermione said pleasantly, moving closer to Harry.

“When did you get here?” Harry asked in an irritated way, liking this boy less and less the more time they spent with him.

“I was walking behind you two actually. You were too wrapped up in yourselves to notice.” Damien’s voice was frosty. “So, you don’t have a father, Potter?”

Harry tensed and felt Hermione tense next to him as well. Damien, seeing that he had hit a nerve, pressed on. “Did he croak or did he just get sick of you and take off?”

Harry growled, two seconds away from pulling out his wand and hexing the boy into the next century. Hermione put a hand on his arm and looked at Damien, her glare radiating with anger.

“I know you don’t like Harry, Damien, but leave his parents out of this or God help me I will—“

“Oh so he’s an orphan, is he? It figures. If I were his parents, I’d kill myself, too.”

“Shut up.” Harry ground out through clenched teeth, his grip on Hermione becoming almost painful. Hermione took his hand and he felt a small semblance of calm. A very small semblance.

“Damien, I said—“

“But, of course, I would have killed him first. I wonder, Potter, if your parents were as big a**holes as you are?” It happened in a flash. The usually reserved Hermione was up, her wand out, her mouth open in the middle of a full body petrify spell, but Harry was up in a flash, his fist connecting with Damien’s jaw, then again with his nose. The boy was left wondering why Hermione was pointing a stick at him before he sank into unconsciousness and Harry was left shaking with rage over him.

Hermione put away her wand and took Harry’s hand again. “Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he’d—“

“It’s not your fault, Hermione.” Harry took deep breaths to calm himself, holding tighter to Hermione’s hand. When that didn’t work, he drew her into another hug and inhaled her scent. She always smelled of apples and jasmine and Harry had grown to love it. He immediately felt a wave of calm pass over him as she hugged him back.

“I know, but still—“

“Are you guys going to get off my bus?" Asked a very amused bus driver. Hermione flushed and let go of an equally red Harry who had released her just as quickly. They walked to the front and Hermione paid for the trip while the bus driver had a hearty laugh and took great joy in asking them if they were close relatives of the tomato or just trying to win some kind of blushing prize.

The two got off the bus, Hermione remembering too late that they’d left Damien on the bus, and Harry really not caring. At all. Hermione led the way to the rather huge library that rivaled the one at Hogwarts. While Hermione returned the books, Harry wondered idly if they had any magical books here, then laughed at himself.

“What’s so funny?” Hermione asked coming up next to him. Harry noticed that she was carrying ten new books and held out his hand to take some, which Hermione gladly handed him.

“Oh nothing. Just me being silly.”

“As always.” Hermione smirked. Harry grinned and didn’t deny it. “Should we go straight home or do you want to go somewhere else?”

Knowing that Mr. Granger would probably think they were out finding a motel or something if they returned late, Harry said, “Let’s go back.”

He took Hermione’s free hand with his free hand and together they left the library.

Title: Hermione's Stalker

Author: LilPrincess48

Disclaimer: Not mine. Sob.

Author's Note: Daniel. Radcliffe. Loves. Scarlett. Johanson. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Date Begun: June 22, 2004

Date Posted: June 22, 2004

Chapter 3: A Visit To The Burrow

With Damien pretty much incapacitated for the time being, a week later, Harry and Hermione decided to use this down time to drop in on Ron and catch up. Deciding to keep the couples façade up even then, just in case, the two quickly used the magic of Floo Powder to appear in the Weasley's fireplace.

Boy, did they get an eyeful.

"Argh! Ginny?! Malfoy?! What the bloody hell--"

"Oh calm down, Harry. Ginny, dear, please put your shirt back on."

"Malfoy. Pants. Eyes. Burn!"

"Harry? Hermione? Dammit, why don't you two travel like normal people?!"

"Enjoying the view, Granger? And, you, Potter, I wasn't aware that you were gay."

"MALFOY PUT YOUR BLOODY PANTS BACK ON!"

After, the excitement had calmed down, and Ginny and Draco were sufficiently dressed, Ginny brought a shaking and 'scarred' Harry and a very pale faced, but calm Hermione a cup of tea.

"So, how're you?" She asked as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, even though Draco Malfoy was still lounging in the chair across from Harry and Hermione with his hair messed up in a distinct make-out style.

"Er... Good. Here, Harry, drink some of this. It'll make you feel better." Hermione held her tea cup up to Harry's lips and he took a small sip, his eyes traveling around the room until they fell on Malfoy. Harry squeaked.

"Harry, did you just squeak?" Ginny asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry looked at her and squeaked again. Draco was busy doubled over in laughter.

"Does... Does Ron know about... About..." Another squeak.

"Of COURSE not. Do I LOOK mad to you?"

"Well, considering your choice in men..." Hermione inputted while giving the laughing Malfoy a disapproving look to which he politely replied 'Up yours' before collapsing in laughter again.

"Anyway, Ron is out practicing his Quidditch with Fred and George so he doesn't reek next season and Mum and Dad are out at Diagon Alley getting our schoolbooks in advance. Lower prices and all that."

"So you invited Malfoy over for a shagging session?" Asked Harry who had apparently found his voice. Ginny flushed.

"I can do it with whomever I want to!"

"And, in case you're wondering, Potter, she's VERY good in--” Draco’s sentence was lost in laughter when Harry squeaked again.

"Honestly, Harry, sometimes I think you'll never grow up." Hermione said.

"Oh, I'm sorry if I don't have sex on my mind every thirty seconds."

"Are you saying that I DO?"

"You sure are acting like, Hermione."

"I was merely saying that shagging shouldn't revert you back to your field mouse state!"

"Yes, and I'm sure I should just accept the fact that my metaphorical little sister is shagging my long-time enemy. On the couch we're currently sitting on!"

"I'm surprised that you don't consider snogging as taboo as you look at shagging, Harry."

"Are you saying I'm not a good snog?"

"Of COURSE I am."

"I am not. Watch." Ginny and Draco watched in amusement as Harry seized Hermione by the shoulders and pulled her close, bringing his lips down on hers hard, his tongue tempting hers to come out and play. The two watched until the moaning and groping began, at which point Ginny took Draco's hand and whispered: "Your house?"

"My house." Draco confirmed as the two snuck off.

*

When Ronald Weasley comes home, there are not a lot of things he doesn't expect to see.

However, his two best friends having a passionate make-out session on his couch definitely fell under the Non-Expectation category. He cleared his throat, loudly, watching as the two flew apart and sat on opposite ends of the couch, staring at each other wide eyed.

"So, something you're not telling me?" They looked at him, then back at each other, then they both got off the couch, Hermione murmuring something about finding Ginny and disappearing through the kitchen door and Harry muttering something about not being a bad snog and shuffling his feet. Ron headed over, propping his broom up by the door. "Nice to see you, too, mate. Staying for dinner?"

"Er... Ron?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Hermione’s got a stalker and I'm pretending to be her boyfriend to get him off her back." Harry said quickly and in one breath. Ron blinked, then laughed.

"Well, I'll tell you this much: You two are ruddy good actors."

*

By the time Harry and Hermione returned back to the Granger household, they’d barely said a word to each other since. It was dark in the house, signifying that Mr. and Mrs. Granger had gone out, leaving the two alone.

“Harry…” Hermione said tentatively. “About that kiss…”

“Well, I did prove that I wasn’t a bad snog, right?” Harry refused to look at her. “And, besides, as you ‘boyfriend’, I’m supposed to kiss you and stuff.”

“But we weren’t—“

“I’m kinda tired, Mione. See you tomorrow?” And before she could open her mouth, he had disappeared up the stairs. Hermione sighed, putting two fingers to her lips and reliving the experience of having Harry’s lips on hers, his hands all over, feeling his hot breath on her skin—

When her thoughts began to get X-rated, she decided it was time to go to bed as well. She flushed bright red, remembering that Ginny and Malfoy had been in the room when they’d started, minutely comforted by the fact that the youngest Weasley wouldn’t tell – Horrified by the fact that Malfoy probably would.

How those two had gotten together, she would never, ever figure out.

Hermione slipped into her bed, her eyes fluttering closed and her final thought was, I wonder if I can get Harry to kiss me again.

*

Damien snuck into Hermione’s bedroom, his anger flaring as he heard her whisper Potter’s name in her sleep. What did that idiot have that he didn’t? (A/N: My poor, poor hands hate me for writing this about Harry.) Why would Hermione choose that scar-headed orphan over him, Damien, who had been in love with her for years?

It made no sense.

His head still hurt from those punches and the doctors had said that his nose was broken, but nothing would stop Damien from his nightly visits to Hermione’s bedroom. Even if he WAS supposed to be in the hospital right now.

He went through her drawers, pulling out another fresh pair of her knickers from her drawer. That made a total of fifteen he had so far. His goal was fifty. Damien put the pair into his back pocket and headed next door, glaring down at the boy who’d managed to capture the heart of HIS Hermione.

The idiot was sleeping fitfully, tossing and turning, muttering Hermione’s name under his breath. What an obsessive loser. Damien spotted Potter’s glasses on the side table and picked them up, taking a sick pleasure out of hearing the glass shatter in his hands before he tossed them back onto the table and glared down at the Potter boy again.

Hermione was his. His. Not Potter’s. How dare he come alone and took what belong to him? Damien would make him pay dearly. As soon as he figured out what was most important to the boy, he would take it away.

Let’s see how he liked it.

Grabbing a permanent marker, he scrawled ‘Watch your back, Potter. I’ll get you’ on the wall, then leaped out the window and onto the street below.

*

Harry and Hermione were back in good spirits by the next morning, each quite unable to stay upset with the other for long. The awkwardness had faded and they were back to their usual selves, sitting in the backyard and blowing bubbles. Simple, but amusing.

Hermione was wearing a yellow sundress and matching hat, her hair in an unraveling braid under the hat. Harry was wearing khaki pants and a red t-shirt with the Gryffindor lion portrayed on the front. He had asked Hermione if they could conjure up some magical bubbles, but she had insisted on using the Muggle way and he didn’t want to disagree.

Hermione sat down in Harry’s lap, laughing as one of the bubbles popped after landing her nose, laughing even more when Harry joined in. He set down the bottle of bubble mix and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

“Having fun, Mione?” He asked, resting his head on her shoulder. Hermione rested her head lightly against his and leaned back.

“Oh yes. Bubbles are very amusing. They pop!” Harry laughed. She was just so cute—!

“Yes, yes, they do, Mione. Bubbles do have a tendency to pop.” She swatted his head playfully and stuck out her tongue, more at the yard than at him since he was behind her, but this just made her laugh all over again.

“Don’t mock me, Harry James Potter.”

“Don’t make yourself so easily mocked, Hermione Jane Granger.”

“You know what’s funny?” Harry scooted back so his back was comfortably resting against a tree.

“Mmm?”

“Something Ginny told me once. Our initials. Apparently, Hermione Granger, or H.G., is code-name for… Harry’s Girl.” She felt Harry smile against the skin of her cheek and continued. “And, Harry Potter, or H.P., is…” She snickered. “Hermione’s Poodle.”

“Poodle?!?!”

Hermione could no longer hold it in and burst out laughing. “Poodle. Yes.”

“Poodle?!?!?! You get Harry’s Girl and what do I get? Hermione’s Poodle?!?!”

“Just repeated what Ginny told me.” Harry laughed and hugged her tighter.

“Well, I suppose if I’m yours then I don’t mind being a… Poodle.” He grinned as Hermione petted him on the head and said, “Good boy.”

“Funny, Mione.” He pouted as she broke out laughing. She eventually calmed down and leaned against him again, completely relaxed.

“Harry…”

“Mm?”

“Er… Never mind.” Shrugging it off, Harry rested his head back against the tree and closed his eyes, feeling more comfortable and safe than he had in years.

Title: Hermione's Stalker

Author: LilPrincess48

Disclaimer: Want it. Ain’t got it.

Author's Note: Daniel Radcliffe is in love. And not with me. *cries*

Date Begun: June 30, 2004

Date Posted: June 30, 2004

Chapter 4: Damien Strikes Back, Part I

Hermione was only half-awake when she heard a crash downstairs. And even then she wasn’t really suspicious.

She’d just come out of a wonderful dream where Harry, dressed in nothing but swimming trunks with little snitches on them, was…

Er…

Anyway, Hermione sat up slowly, blinking to try and regain consciousness another crash, followed by a loud crash followed the first. She rubbed her eyes and slid out of bed, flicking on her lamplight.

The light was just enough to illuminate her room and a bit of the hallway. Hermione entered the hall, glancing into Harry’s room where the Boy-Who-Sleeps-Like-A-Rock-Ever-Since-He-Didn’t-Have-To-Worry-About-Waking-Up-Dead was snoring lightly. She rolled her eyes playfully and headed downstairs.

“Hello? Who’s down here?” Hermione called, a flashlight in one hand, her wand in her pocket. Whoever it was didn’t make any move to hide from her and when she shone her flashlight across the room, she wasn’t very surprised.

“Hello, Hermione.”

“Damien, get the hell out of my house.” Hermione said flatly, turning off the flashlight and turning on the light. The boy merely stared at her, brown eyes flashing and not really focused.

“Hermione, do you know what I realized?”

“That you’re a crazed, obsessive lunatic who doubles at the cat burglar? That you need to find yourself a girlfriend? That you need to get your hormones removed, period? That you—“

He continued speaking as if she hadn’t interrupted while slowly making his way towards her. “I realized that that boy…. The one you care so much about… The one called Harry…. Cares about you in return.”

“Well, duh.”

“And I think… That since his parents are dead.” It made her angry the casual way he said that, almost as if he was happy about it. “You may just be the thing he cares about the most.”

“Um…” Hermione took a step back. Damien was only a few feet away from her now.

“He took from me what I cared about most and I think… I should return the favor, don’t you, Hermione?” His eyes burned into hers as she took another step back. “Don’t scream.”

And, of course, Hermione did.

*

Harry sat up in bed as a loud, ear-splitting scream rang through the house and he heard someone scrambling up the stairs. No, make that two people scrambling up the stairs.

Weren’t they aware that he was trying to sleep, dammit?

Groaning in irritation, Harry fumbled for his glasses in the dark and slipped them on, about to get out of bed and investigate, when suddenly he was tackled to the floor on the other side of his bed as someone made a flying leap towards him.

The bushy brown hair that swirled in his vision gave him a clue as to it was.

“Hermione.” He ground out. “What are you doing?”

“Damien’s…. In the house.” She said back, rolling off him. “Just thought you might like to know.”

Harry’s head was pounding from the tackle and the way his head had slammed against the floor, but he tried to work around that. He grabbed his wand off the bed (Yes, he slept with it. Is that a crime nowadays? Hmph!) And pointed it at the door as a lone figure appeared there.

“Potter.” Damien said politely. “Did I wake you up? I apologize.”

“Get the hell out of Mione’s house, Damien.” Harry said, standing, sensing more than seeing Hermione stand up next to him, her wand also raised.

“Are you going to point those sticks at me again. They won’t do any good. I’m determined to have her, Potter. She means the most to you, does she not?”

Harry glared, despite the fierce blush n his cheeks. “Shut up and get out before I hex you to death.”

Damien tilted his head to the side. “Oh, so now you think you’re some kind of powerful wizard? Just because you killed that… What’s-his-face killer… Voldemort?”

Neither Harry nor Hermione flinched at the name. Harry’s eyes, however, narrowed. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“I should be saying the same to you.” Damien said, his voice still sounding as if they were having a casual chat about the weather or tea and crumpets and sushi. Well, maybe not sushi. “I came for Hermione and I’m not leaving without her.”

“You’ll be disappointed.” Harry said with a snort. “Petrificus total—“

Before Harry could finish the curse, Damien had already flown across the room (Non-literally), grabbed Hermione by the shoulders, and dived through the glass and out the window.

“This guy’s stark raving mad.” Harry exclaimed before diving out after him. Hermione’s slightly muffled screams alerted him to their location, as well as to the fact that she was screaming every single hex and curse she knew. Damien must have had a tight hold on her wand arm because the street was filled with bright spell-casting lights. “I’m going to kill him for making me run around outside in nothing but my boxers, damn idiot.”

Harry kept running after the screams that were fading away until something pointy jabbed him in the foot. He paused to pick it up.

It was Hermione’s wand… And it was snapped in half.

“Dammit.” Harry realized that Hermione’s screams had faded away completely and so had the lights. He had no idea where they were now.

And he was still standing in the middle of the street in his boxers. “Just great.”

*

Hermione was not happy. Oh, no, she was not happy at all.

She was not happy that Damien had broken into her house. She was not happy that he had kidnapped her. She was not happy that he’d snapped her wand in two. And she was not happy to be taken to his house and tossed in his closet like a sack of flower.

She was especially not happy to see that he really did have a shrine to her – Complete with fifteen sets of her knickers.

“Bloody perverted, obsessive pain-in-the-arse.” She muttered, banging on the closet door again. Who on earth put locks on their kid’s closet door? Damien’s parents were just as cracked as him.

“Now, now, don’t fuss, Hermione. I won’t keep you in there forever.”

“DAMIEN, IF YOU DON’T LET ME OUT OF THERE, BY MERLIN, I SWEAR I’LL—“

“Only until that orphan comes for you. I’ll be ready for him when he does. We’ll never have to worry about him again. Never.”

Oh yes, the boy was cracked. Hermione could only hope Harry was smart enough to stay away.

But who was she kidding?

Title: Hermione's Stalker

Author: LilPrincess48

Disclaimer: Santa Baby, slip Harry Potter under the tree, for me. I’ve been such a good girl! Santa baby, I wanna own Harry Potter to-night!

Author's Note: Guess what? I have over 13 things in common with Daniel Radcliffe! 13! Plus, him being a Leo and me being an Aries make us one of the zodiacs perfect matches. IN YOUR FACE SCARLETT WHATEVER YOUR NAME IS!

And, as a side note, I had no idea Damien’s name was actually the same as some evil dude’s. How cool is that?

Oh, and before I forget, no, Damien has absolutely no knowledge of the magical world. I just figured, you know, since they mentioned the ‘oh so dangerous’ Sirius Black on Muggle television, then they’d DEFINITELY mention someone as dangerous as Voldemort, wouldn’t they? Just, you know, without mentioning the magic.

Date Begun: August 24, 2004

Date Posted:

Chapter 4: Damien Strikes Back, Part II

Harry was NOT in the best of spirits by the time he got home, and it didn’t help his mood that Hermione’s parents were practically in a panic.

“No. NO! No, I do not think the sounds I heard as I approached my home could have been that of my daughter and her boyfriend having sex. What’s wrong with you?!” Hermione’s mother was screaming into the phone. Hermione’s father was no better than his wife, pacing back and forth in the kitchen, wringing the daylights out of a newspaper, occasionally pausing to sip some coffee, only to spit it out again in shock at something his wife said.

So when Harry returned to the house, still wearing nothing but his boxers and looking mad enough to kill, two things happened.

Hermione’s mother paled and dropped the phone.

And Hermione’s father picked Harry up by his armpits, slammed him against the wall, and demanded that the location of his daughter be revealed before he castrated Harry the good old-fashioned way.

And since Harry was quite fond of his… Er… Organs, he decided that calming down before attempting to talk some sense into the infuriated man threatening to chop of his manly bits was the best choice.

“Mr. Granger,” Harry began, keeping his voice calm. “That psycho stalker Damien has kidnapped Hermione and is, likely, holding her at his house. I tried to stop them. Why else would I have been outside looking like this?”

Mr. Granger seemed to realize that Harry was practically naked and dropped him onto the ground, taking a few steps back. “Kidnapped…?”

“Kidnapped? My Hermione?” Mrs. Granger asked, retrieving the phone and hanging it up.

“Your Hermione.” Harry confirmed, wondering if he would have time to hide Damien’s body before the Ministry of Magic arrived to kill him for using an illegal curse. He sighed wearily, sinking down into a chair and banging his head against the table repeatedly. “When I—“ bang. “Get my hands—“ Bang, bang. “On that sorry excuse—“ Bang. “For a human, I will—“ Bang, bang, bang, BANG. “Hex him so badly—“ BANG. “That he won’t be able to—“ BANG. BANG. “Walk straight or talk or SEE or—“ BANG. “ANYTHING FOR AN ENTERNITY!”

Harry finally stopped banging, only to wince at his sudden headache. A pale Mrs. Granger sank down in the seat across from him. Mr. Granger kept pacing.

“So, what’s the plan, Harry?” He asked after awhile. Harry raised an eyebrow.

”What plan? You tell me where Damien lives, I wait for him there, the instant he comes back, I hit him with a Crucio curse until he’s writhing in pain.” A crazed look entered Harry’s green eyes. “Yes, oh yes. Then we wrestle him to the ground and let him choke on a truth serum. Mmm, yes.” Harry laughed maniacally. “Then we force him to tell us where Hermione is, finish him off with an Avada Kedavra and finally let the police take his lifeless corpse to jail. Mwahaha.”

When he finally regained his sanity, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were staring at him fearfully. Harry blinked. “What?”

*

“Damien.”

Silence.

“Damien!”

Silence.

“DAMIEN!”

More silence.

Hermione sighed in frustration. Where was that damned boy and how on earth did he expect her to stay alone in this dirty, messy, nasty closet with… With her staring back at her. When had he found the time to carve a lifelike statuette of her out of soap?

Creepy.

She’d been so bored staying in here for the last hour that she had taken to reorganizing Damien’s closet. And dismantling his shrine. And taking back her knickers.

Now that she was finished, she was extremely bored. And she missed Harry. Pretend relationship, or no pretend relationship, he was a great friend. And boyfriend. And…

And Hermione couldn’t think about that now.

“Why didn’t I think to wear hairpins to bed?” Hermione whispered to herself. “Then I could pick this lock.”

Glancing at the shrine, she noticed some thumbtacks holding a picture of her in the third grade with braces to the wall. Hermione nearly fell over in embarrassment.

“Where did he get THAT?!”

Disregarding it for now, Hermione pulled one of the thumbtacks out of the wall and stuck it in the lock, jiggling it around.

Nothing.

“Stupid too-short needle.” She muttered, tossing the thumbtack over her shoulder and looking around for something else she could use. She spotted a small case and picked it up, very disturbed by what she saw.

It was a pale sticky object with a label above it reading ‘Hermione’s Gum – Day Five of Fourth Grade’.

“Sick. Sick. Sick. Sick.” Hermione said, making a face as she peeled it out of the container and ripped off the edge of a nearby shoebox. She slipped the piece of cardboard through the crack between the door and the wall, jiggling it around until the door slipped open a bit. She put the gum down so the door wasn’t able to be locked again and peered around for Damien.

He was… Asleep?

Didn’t he know that he had a very resourceful, smart, and angry witch locked in his closet?!

She slipped out of the closet, then down the hall until she came to the phone, picking it up and hurrying back to her closet before Damien woke up and put her somewhere where Harry would NEVER be able to find her. Pulling the door closed, though not locked because of the gum, Hermione dialed home.

*

“Guns?”

“Too bloody.”

“Whips.”

”He’d scream too loudly.”

“Knives.”

“Waaaaay to messy.”

“While you two are over there to decide what to use as a murder weapon, that maniac is having his way with out daughter!” Mrs. Granger shrieked, breaking up the discussion between her husband and Harry. This got a reaction out of both men.

“HAVING HIS WAY WITH HER?! I’LL BREAK THE LITTLE BASTARD INTO TWO MILLION PIECES!”

“IF HE SO MUCH AS TOUCHES MY HERMIONE, I’LL HEX HIM TO HELL AND BACK!”

It would have been comical if Hermione wasn’t in danger. Mrs. Granger was about to suggest they just go over to Damien’s house and have a talk with him, since his parents were out of the country that summer, when the phone rang.

Harry, being the closest, answered it. “What the hell do you want?!”

“Well, no need to be so rude, Harry. I’m only trying to—“

“Hermione?!” Harry near-shouted, feeling a great wave of relief that his brilliant witch had managed to get herself to a phone. “Where are you? Has he touched you? Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Hermione—“

“Damien’s house. No. Yes. No. And, hush.” Hermione said, answering each of his questions quietly as though she was hiding. “Damien’s locked me in the closet in his bedroom, but he’s asleep right now, and I’ve managed to make it so that the closet can’t be locked again.”

“Then what are you still doing there, Mione? Get out of there! Come home!” Harry said, ignoring the anxious, worried looks of Hermione’s parents.

“I can’t, Harry. I’m probably the only one who can talk some sense into Damien. Maybe I can even get him to turn himself in!”

Harry admired Hermione’s sense of nobility. Really, he did. Just not now. “Hermione, are you out of your mind? The boy’s a lunatic! Merlin knows what he’ll do if you don’t. Come. Home. NOW.”

“I can’t. Just listen to me. What you have to do is—“

”Come charging over there, wand raised an mouth poised to say the killing curse?”

“What? What?! No! What you need to do is call the police—“

“Duh.” Harry snapped. He missed Hermione. He was concerned about her safety. And what was she doing? Choosing to remain in the hands of the enemy.

Was she TRYING to give Harry a heart attack before he turned twenty?!

“Call the police.” Hermione hissed as if her patience were running thin. “And tell them to wait outside the house where nobody will be able to see them. It’s you Damien wants Harry. He’s angry with you and he wants you.”

“Tell him I don’t swing that way.”

“HARRY JAMES POTTER, LISTEN TO ME!” Okay, yes, her patience HAD worn thin. “You have to come over here and keep Damien occupied while I run out to the police and give them the signal to come and apprehend Damien. Just make sure you’re not casting a spell when they burst in. Or that Damien isn’t dead by then.”

“Hermione, wouldn’t it just be simpler for you to come home right now and then we call the police to go get Damien?”

“Harry, how do you know, in that time, Damien wouldn’t have run away, then come back when our guard is down and shot me?”

He hated it when she had a point.

“Now, we don’t know what Damien’s capable of, so I think it’s best for now to have him think he has the upper hand, okay? Please, just trust me.” The way she said it made Harry’s heart clench and he sighed.

”I trust you Hermione. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do.” She reassured him. “Now, I have to go before Damien wakes up. Tell Mom and Dad I’m okay.”

“I will.” Harry said in a resigned voice. There was no changing Hermione’s mind once she had it made up.

“Oh, and Harry?”

“Mm?” Harry asked, wondering why she sounded so shy all of a sudden.

“I… I just wanted you to know… In case something goes wrong… Well…” There was a long pause in which Harry wondered if the line had gone dead before Hermione spoke in a rush of words, “Iloveyou.” And hung up.

Harry blinked as the dial tone sounded, working out in his head what she’d said before—

Before his face turned bright red and he dropped the phone. Hermione loved him back? Oh, he’d do a victory dance if he wasn’t in the kitchen with Hermione’s parents in nothing but his boxers and if the girl he was madly in love with wasn’t in impending danger.

Mr. Granger walked over and clapped a hand almost painfully down on Harry’s shoulder, bring the boy out of his thoughts, and asked casually, “So… When do we kill him?”