The Subtle Art of Seduction by Apolla Rating: PG Ship: Harry & Hermione Canon: Books 1 - 4 Genre: Humor, Romance Status: Complete Length: 1,767 words in 1 chapter Published: 16 Jul 2004 Last updated: 16 Jul 2004 Desperate times call for desperate measures for normally right-on feministas like Hermione Granger. Written pre-OotP. One-Shot. From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/2570/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 1. The Subtle Art of Seduction Author’s Note: This was written over a year ago, but I’ve only just unearthed it in the insanity that is my computer. I believe I posted at the FAP Cookie Jar and so it’s at the Pumpkin Pie Archive group as well. That said, I’ve been through it with a fine-toothed comb and so it’s a little different from older versions. Enjoy! The Subtle Art of Seduction Hermione Granger had had enough. She was seventeen years old now and she was going to be damned if she was going to just sit back and watch the object of her affections not ask her out. Even if it did mean she had to swallow her pride, dignity and everything Germaine Greer had ever said, Hermione Granger was going to turn seductress. On the morning she put her plan in action, she woke up early. If she was going to pull this off, she reasoned, she might as well look the part. At least it was Saturday today- she wouldn't have to endure classes looking like some femme fatale. Conjuring some simple but effective make up charms learned from Ginny’s TeenWitch Weekly, she then started applying liberal amounts of Sleekeasy's to her hair. Once finished, she slipped on the blue dress her mother had given her as a birthday present. She, Ron and Harry were planning a trip into Hogsmeade that day and she knew that they'd be waiting for her downstairs. When they heard her footfalls on the stairs, Ron spoke. "Bloody Hell, Hermione, it's about..." he trailed off as Hermione came into view. "Time?" he finished lamely. Next to him, Harry stood as if petrified, mouth wide enough not just to catch flies, but possibly sizeable migratory birds. She smiled brightly at both of them. "Ready for a fun day in Hogsmeade, boys?" she asked, linking arms with both as they headed out of the castle. "Yes indeed!" said Ron excitedly. "Fred said they've got a new shipment of gags in at the shop." Hermione gave a very girlish sort of giggle. "You may be a Seventh Year, but you'll always be a little kid, won't you?" she asked in a dry sort of voice. "For as long as I can help it, Hermione, for as long as I can help it." Ron grinned broadly at them. Harry wrenched his arm away from Hermione and began walking separately. "What's the matter, Harry?" she asked with concern. He turned to look at her. "Oh, nothing," he said in a distracted tone. "Are you sure?" she asked, biting her lip. He nodded. "Positive, Hermione." *** After causing havoc in Weasleys' and blowing most of their money in Honeydukes, the trio bought a large jug of butterbeer from the fair Madam Rosmerta and headed onto the sun-soaked slope on which the Shrieking Shack stood. Hermione transfigured her cloak into a picnic tablecloth and they settled down to eat the picnic Dobby and the other House-Elves had prepared for them. Conversation was light-hearted, happy and seemed to revolve around Quidditch and NEWTs. None of them felt like talking about Lord Voldemort today. Hermione was proud of her ability not to descend into in-depth conversation about classes or anything academic. She thought that everything was going well with her plan until she sneaked a glance at the person this whole get-up was for. Harry was staring at her, and he looked absolutely miserable. She sighed. Had she been wrong about him? She couldn't have been, her brain told her sternly. Not that she could speak to him now, not while Ron was sat with them, chatting away merrily. So, she bit her tongue and hoped she'd be able to speak to him before they had to get back to school. *** The opportunity didn't present itself all day. Harry just seemed to get more and more morose, and although she was doing her best to cheer him up, he just seemed to get more miserable. Finally, when she was at her wit's end, they sat down for a final Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. Conversation was suddenly quite stilted as Ron, coming down from a sugar high, realised how depressed his friend looked. Then, several of his Chess friends came in and wanted to speak to him. He agreed and for the first time that day, Hermione was alone with Harry. For a while, neither spoke. Harry seemed to be off in a completely different world, and Hermione, for once, had no idea what to say to her best friend. "Bloody Hell," she muttered, finally irritated beyond the telling of it. "Did you know that if you don't speak for long enough, you lose the ability completely?" Harry turned, looked at her and blinked twice. "Oh!" she exclaimed quite angrily. She stood up, grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the pub. She walked at quite a brisk pace and didn't stop until they were out of the hearing of anyone else. Then she seemed to calm down. "What's wrong?" she asked in a gentle voice. He said nothing, choosing instead to lean against the low-running wall. "Harry, talk to me," she said, hopping onto the wall to sit beside him. She put her hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it away. "Fine, don't talk to me. It's not like I'm your best friend or anything." Harry turned and looked at her. She couldn't quite interpret the look, but a feeling inside told her that this was the proof she needed that Harry Potter loved Hermione Granger as much as she loved him. She put her hand on his cheek and he closed his eyes quite tightly for a moment. "Why won't you tell me what's wrong?" "Doesn't matter," he mumbled. Then he spoke louder. "Shouldn't you be with Ron?" "Ron? Why?" Harry laughed, an empty, hollow laugh that made her shiver very slightly. "Seriously, Harry, what are you getting at?" "Don't pretend, Hermione!" he said, suddenly quite angry. She wasn't scared at his sudden changes in temperament, but it certainly concerned her. "Pretend about what, Harry? You're really not making very much sense." "Pretend about you and Ron!" he shouted. "Do you think I'm blind? You've been flirting with Ron all day and you turn up in this dress looking all pretty..." There he trailed off, the anger leaving him. "Ron? Ron?" she cried quite loudly. "Flirting? With Ron? I don't think so!" "What do you call it then?" he asked quite peevishly. She sighed. "I call it trying to flirt with you and clearly failing quite miserably!" "What?" "Yes, are you happy? I Hermione Granger, liberated girl of the 1990s reduced herself to flirting and it didn't even work!" "Me?" he asked. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "You. It was always bloody you!" "Me?" "God, you're so bloody clueless, Potter. Didn't you ever notice the way I end up just staring at you? Because I did. I know Ron did. The entire school probably knows with one quite notable exception." "Me?" "By George, I think he's got it," she said in a tone equal parts sarcasm and frustration. "Me?" "You're really not getting over the concept anytime soon are you?" Suddenly, quite suddenly he grinned impishly and grabbed her. He kissed her once, very softly. "Me?" he whispered, no longer dumbfounded. She nodded. "Yes. Not Ron. Not anybody else. You. I should've known that flirting wouldn't work. I mean, it's not exactly my forte, is it?" "Well... I was just confused when you came downstairs and you were all dressed up. And I thought you were flirting with Ron and..." "That's the way I always am with Ron." "Yes, but usually you're not so dressed up." "It was the dress that threw you. Should've known." "It's a very nice dress. But you didn't have to go to all that trouble for me. I think you're pretty whatever you're wearing." "You do?" "Yes." "You do realise that I noticed you staring at me all those times?" "You did?" he looked absolutely mortified and yet almost amused. "Yes. I was quite impressed actually that you were staring at my face and not... lower." "Oh. Yeah." he said. So she hadn't seen him every time, then? "Unless you're doing it now, of course?" she asked and his head snapped up. "Oh. Sorry." he grinned impishly again. "But you love me anyway, right?" he asked in a joking tone. Her smile disappeared for a moment. "Yes. I do." Now his smile disappeared as he considered the ramifications of this statement. He was the Boy Who Lived. One day, probably soon, he'd have to face Voldemort again and only one of them would come back alive, if that. Could he do that to her? Could he leave her like that? And what about the emotional scars the Dursleys left on him? He didn't deserve someone as brilliant and beautiful and wonderful as her, how could he? Would he be the worst boyfriend in the History of boyfriends? Would he... "Harry, I can tell what you're thinking, you know." "What? You're not telepathic," he accused, quite shaken by the idea that Hermione might know exactly what he was thinking. "No, but I know you very well. Voldemort is coming, I know that. We might all die and other such worst case scenarios. But I don't intend living in fear of what might happen. And girlfriend or not, I'll be following you into the fight anyway. One way or the other, you're stuck with me." That made his decision for him. If she was prepared to follow him into the hell of war, there was nothing he could do. He looked into her brown eyes and was lost. "I love you, Hermione," he said. She smiled, the broadest, brightest smile she'd ever smiled before standing on tiptoes to kiss him. Then they heard the cheering. Breaking away most reluctantly from their kiss, they turned to see every single student that had been in Hogsmeade that day standing outside the Three Broomsticks watching their every move. Both blushed quite furiously. "Oh well," said Harry, "I'm freezing out here. Want to get a Butterbeer and tackle the inevitable jokes and off-colour remarks?" "Why not? It might be fun," she said, taking his hand. He looked at her and cocked an eyebrow. "Well, stranger things have happened, I suppose," he said. "Like me turning into a flirt to catch the attention of a handsome young wizard?" she said with a sly grin. "Something like that," he said, his lips curling into a grin. "You had my attention anyway." The End