Hand-Held Books

Title: Hand-Held Books

Author: OneBiscuitShort

Rating: PG

Ships: H/Hr

Summary: An Annual shopping trip turns up more than their school supplies. (Just a quick note -> the ship is only IMPLIED in this, and that's the way I wrote it but it's quite clear). It is a one-shot but I might develop it further into a proper full-fledge romantic fic.

Hand-Held Books

Although it was usual to see Hermione hunting around the bookshops on her annual trips to Diagon Alley, it was unusual however to find Hermione searching for a particular book.

Harry had turned the corner with Ron, hoping to find that the Quidditch Supply shop was nearby, so he could divert himself inside and away from Hermione's book hunting attitude. She had already made them stand outside Flourish & Blotts while she dove through tremendous amounts of leather backed books in a basket and even asked the clerk if he'd seen this particular book.

For the life of him, Harry couldn't remember the name of it. He was positive that Hermione had told him but it was gone in an instant, like she'd said it in her super fast, quick facts way. Yet, when he asked her again, she simply replied that she'd already told him a dozen times and she wasn't going to repeat herself again, in true McGonagall style.

Ron raised his eyebrows, “I think she's been sniffing a few too many first editions.”

Harry grinned as he watched Hermione running her fingertips along the spines of books on the shelf in an old bookshop. “What's she looking for?”

Ron shrugged his shoulders, “No ruddy clue. I think she said `Kerbafloddodoodah'.

“Is that even English?” Harry laughed.

“I don't think so,” Ron replied, licking his Bertie Botts Ice Cream. “That's probably why she can't find it anywhere.”

Harry watched the bustle of Wizards and Witches go by as they waited on the corner. He remembered his first visit to Diagon Alley, and how Hagrid had promised him a birthday present, even after Harry politely refused. Harry smiled at the memory, then was distracted again by a boy rushing past, a flyer of the new Nimbus clutched in his hands, the picture of the new broom flying on the front, moving and darting about the page.

“Hey!” Ron said, pointing at the flyer. “That's the new Nimbus Vision! It's the new Nimbus Vision Harry!”

Harry looked across from them at the Quidditch Supply store and sure enough, in the window on the broom stands was the new Nimbus in all its magnificence. The stream line green down the centre of the handle, which curled into the brown wood, melting into the brush at the back.

“What I'd give to fly that!” Ron said in a near whisper, completely wrapped up in awe of this broom.

However, Harry cast his eyes back to the door of the shop to see Hermione strolling out, a disappointed look on her face. She had her arms crossed in front of her, she was biting her lip again and had her bag over shoulder, hanging casually by her waist. She carefully tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear as she walked over to them.

“They didn't have it,” she said, breathing out heavily.

Harry smiled, “Ah well, it'll find you when you're not looking for it.”

Hermione had to smile back, “I suppose it will. Things always seem to.”

“What did the clerk have to say?” Harry asked, checking his pockets for his money. Wondering if he had enough for a round of butterbeer at the Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione waved her hand dismissing, “She said that she'll try and order it in for me but I said I'd be at school by the time it got here, and she'd have to forward it. She's got my home address and Hogwarts' if it arrives.”

“Well, that's something, right?” Harry said, grinning again, wondering how Hermione managed to get so disappointed over a book, but it mattered to her, and that was all that mattered.

Hermione shrugged, “I was really looking forward to reading it on the train as well.”

“Aren't Ron and me entertaining enough for you?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

Hermione laughed, “Not after the thirty-fifth game of Exploding Snap or Frog Chasing. A girl has to have something to keep her interested and not contemplating whether to chuck herself out of the window.”

“What's the name of this book anyway?” Harry asked, getting prepared for the McGonagall lip to form.

“You boys, honestly,” she replied, hands on hips facing Harry and rolling her eyes. “It's like trying to get a fish to memorise Shakespeare. It's called…”

“Harry! Harry!” Ron shouted from the Quidditch Supply shop across the busy street. A large crowd had gathered around the window display where kids and even adults trying to get a look from the back, many kids reverting to squeezing between people's prodding elbows. “Come here, mate! Look!”

Harry grasped hold of Hermione's hand and ran to the Quidditch shop only to be shoved out of the way by clamouring customers trying to enter the shop. Ron seemed to be lost at the front of the large crowd while Hermione and Harry were stood at the back.

“This reminds me of the last Weird Sisters concert,” a young girl was telling her friend in front of Harry. “People were queuing up for ages outside Flourish & Blotts trying to get their posters signed.”

Harry looked back at Hermione and grinned, “Remember them playing at the Yule Ball?”

“Only too well,” Hermione replied, smiling herself and rolling her eyes. “Dancing with Viktor who kept stepping on my feet. Can't say I enjoyed it that much.”

“Oh, I thought it was brilliant, `Herm-own-ninny',” Harry laughed. “And that dress was fantastic. I swear, you floated in it.”

Hermione's cheeks seemed to flush but only for a second, “Thank you, Harry. And what about you, greener than the Forbidden Forest! The dress robes that couldn't afford to have a crease.”

“I rather liked them actually,” Harry replied, looking up into the clear blue sky for a moment.

“Do you still have them?” Hermione asked.

Harry thought for a moment, “I really don't know.”

“That's a shame,” Hermione replied. “They're the best thing I've ever seen you wear.”

“What about the Quidditch uniform?” He retorted.

Hermione seemed to stop for a second, then smiled, “Dress robes for evening wear, Quidditch robes for show.”

Harry laughed. He noticed from the corner of his eye that Hermione was still looking at him, with her head titled to one side as though she were studying him, her eyes focused. “What?”

“Nothing,” Hermione grinned.

“Oi!” Ron shouted, running over from the dispersing crowd. “They're going away now. Are you gonna come in have a look at it or what? Six people have already bought one and four have put their names down for the next delivery. They're letting people test them in the back.”

“I think I'll go and have a look in the book shop over there,” Hermione pointed to a dusty looking shop on the corner, the one with spider-webs dangling from the corners of the windowpane. “I'll meet you out here in ten if you're going inside.”

Harry nodded and made a move to walk inside when something pulled him back.

“Er, Harry?” Ron said, looking at him with a grin. “You might wanna let go of her hand first.”

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