So, being the go-getter guy that I am, I've devised a few plans to get Hermione to realize that her best friend is a bloody fantastic guy and she would be crazy not to marry him and shag him… lots (alright, we can give dating a try first… and snogging, lots of snogging). These plans came about because my good mate Ron has been nagging me ("I'm not nagging, Harry. I'm not your mother." "Oh, so you've noticed that, have you? Brilliant.") non-stop since that deliriously wonderful, thing-dreams-are-made-of kiss. Now something that you must know about Hermione is that she likes to figure things out on her own. She's none too pleased with you point something out to her (especially if it's obvious to everyone but her) that she's missed picking up on. Therefore, I must treat this very delicately because should I, at any point, reveal too much or her push her too far too fast, she'll likely run as far in the other direction as possible and avoid me for weeks. So, I've devised three plans too move things along at a pace that she should be able to handle.
Plan A consists of being very sweet in a safe and subtle way that hopefully won't get me hexed across the pond to America should she not fancy me as well (though all these geniuses that I bunk with assure me that she most certainly does). This involves leaving little notes for her in various places such as her many books, on her bedside table (with the help of Lavender, who I'm sure only volunteered so that she can read the note and then share it with the entirety of Hogwarts), in her bag, in her underwear drawer (if I truly wanted to die); carrying her bag for her often; telling her how gorgeous she is and how badly I want to ravish her (scratch the ravishment… for now) and so on.
Should the safe and subtle approach fail miserably, I shall move on to Plan B (big P, big B). This plan involves being a spot more direct and a little less subtle. Should I need to take this approach and I will ask my beautiful best friend out on the town for a night of dinner and dancing (I've been taking lessons from Parvati. Who knew that girl could move like that), during this magical night we will dance cheek to cheek (for the first wonderful time. I will do my best not to step on her toes, Parvati is still cursing me from last weeks incident) and I will hold her hand, unless she should look at me like I'm out of my mind and demand to know what I'm playing at (at which point I will probably say something horribly embarrassing and run away).
Should Plan B not work (though I don't know how she could not pick up on how I feel after all that) I will gladly move on to Plan C (big P, big C) my favourite of the three. Plan C is quite simple actually. Plan C involves my kissing Hermione (on the mouth) and praying to every God I can think of (if I can think at all during that moment in time) that she will not perform one of the forbidden curses on me (or something special that she cooked up all on her own just for me).
Really, I don't see how I can fail. I see how I can die, but I still would have gotten my point across. I love when a plan can't fail. It's a ruddy wonderful feeling. And I owe it all to Hermione for teaching me how to plan things in the first place (I really would be dead without that woman). Also, if she doesn't like what I do, it's all her fault because, before her, I never would've thought to come up with such wonderful plans.
So, tonight I commence my seduce Hermione campaign. I'm going to have so much fun. I can't wait.
* * *
Round one of Plan A (big P, big A) began this morning. I got up early (very early since Hermione insists that studying is much more important than sleep and rising an hour before everyone else) and slipped anonymous notes into several of her books and left one on the table in her study corner. I've decided to leave the notes anonymous for now as I thought it would be safer to be a secret admirer and feel her out before I let her know who's admiring her (don't want to lose any bits).
Round two will begin when we go to our first class for the day and continue until we get back to Gryffindor tower this evening. We've all the same classes today (thank, Merlin. I don't know how I'd live if I didn't have at least one day of classes that were all shared with wonderful Hermione), so when we leave the tower for breakfast I'll carry Hermione's bag and I'll do so for the rest of the day. No point in her tiring herself unnecessarily, especially since she'll eventually need that energy for snogging with yours truly.
It just so happens that we've a special trip to Hogsmeade tonight since Halloween is fast approaching and we're seventh years and yada yada yada. Honestly, I didn't much care about the reasons, I was just happy to be going to Hogsmeade. Anyway, for this trip Hermione will be out of her school robes and into something a little more casual. Something that will look wonderful on her, I'm sure, which will give me the perfect reason to tell her she looks so very, very shall-I-compare-you-to-a-summer's-day pretty. Then, I will follow her every where she goes in Hogsmeade, just because I love watching her and I hate to miss out on any opportunity to just be with her.
For the final round of the day and a great (I hope) way to kick off tomorrow, I've given Lavender the first wonderful note to put on Hermione's bedside table (with a flower charmed not to wilt. I'm brilliant when adequately inspired) for her to find when she wakes up in the morning. Lavender has promised to put it under Hermione's wand so that she can't possibly miss it (wonderful suggestion from Lavender). The girls in Hermione's room are going to chat me up and make me sound absolutely fabulous (shouldn't be too hard since I am fabulous). Parvati has doubled my weekly dancing lessons (I haven't trampled her toes in two weeks, I suspects she's feeling a little more safe these days). Hermione and I have become a house project (I suspect the lads are getting a little annoyed with me lately. I've been warned several times that if I don't stop pining away and do something about it, they'll turn me into the love-sick puppy that I'm acting like), it's great.
Now, I've just got to sit back and watch Hermione (something I love to do) for her reactions to the notes that I've planted everywhere.
* * *
Unable to go back to sleep after planting the notes (do to a combination of fear and excitement), I've decided to sit on the sofa and pretend to read a Quidditch magazine while I wait for Hermione to put in an appearance. She seems to running a little late this morning or maybe it just feels like it because I feel like I'm awaiting death. I hear someone coming down the stairs and, realizing that I've been daydreaming about the object of my affections, I quickly snatch my magazine from the floor and try to look completely engrossed. Seconds before Hermione appears, I realize that I'm holding the magazine upside down and quickly right-side it before Hermione has a chance to notice.
I watch over the top of the magazine as she makes her way to her corner (she hasn't noticed me here yet, which is good because it gives me a moment to think of a reason for being awake at this ungodly hour). I notice that she has a small smile on her lips and choose to believe that it's because she found the note on her bedside table and not because she's about to start studying. She sits in her chair and, instead of getting right to work as I had expected and feared, she leans back in her chair and closes her eyes. For a fleeting second I'm half worried and half hoping that she'll go to sleep without seeing the note on her table or the dozen hidden in the various books surrounding her. But then she opens her eyes and reaches out for one of the massive tomes around her and spots the note on the table. She tilts her head slightly (something that I've had the pleasure to learn that she does when something has piqued her curiosity) and takes the note from the table. I watch in anticipation as she opens it and am absolutely crushed when she reads it over without the slightest expression of any kind, folds it up and puts it in her bag. But then I recall that it wasn't the greatest love letter of all time and that there are much better ones waiting in her books, like the one she's just picked up. I've used this note to mark the page she left off at (I know this not because I'm absolutely obsessed with her and everything she does, but because… no, I do know this because I'm absolutely obsessed with her and everything she does. I can't deny it, she's on my mind every waking-and sleeping-moment and it's a bloody nuisance sometimes, not that I'd ever do anything to change it) and it's sitting right there in the middle of the page when she flips the book open. I see one eyebrow go up in interest as she plucks the note from the page and I grin devilishly because this one is a true work of Shakespeare-eat-your-heart-out art. And I watch smugly as she reads it over without a single thread of emotion, folds it and puts it in her bag with the other. And what the bloody hell, does this woman not have a romantic bone in her body? Lavender and Parvati practically fainted when they read that note. Oh! Wait; do I see a smile on her lips? Oh, bloody hell, she's just found some fascinatingly, inane fact in her ruddy book. "Life sucks!" I groan mentally.
She looks in my direction and I quickly hide my face behind my magazine and try to pretend to have been reading it all along, because apparently that groan wasn't so much silent as it was out loud and she heard.
"Harry? Are you alright?"
A mentally smack myself and manage a not too sarcastic "Yeah, just great, thanks," while cursing myself.
"What are you doing up so early? You usually enjoy sleeping in, especially since it's Saturday and we haven't any classes."
Great, it's Saturday. My excuse of wanting to get a spot of studying in before classes has just been shot to hell. That excuse was pushing it when I thought it was Friday, it'll never fly on a Saturday. So now I've got to come up with some plausible reason for being up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday and I briefly wonder how crazy Hermione must be to be up at this hour on a Saturday to study, but I remember that her wackiness is one of the many things I adore about her and move on. And now I realize that she's looking at me, patiently waiting for me to answer her question, and I panic and say the first thing that pops into my head.
"I'm meeting Hilda Ginklefief for a walk." And I am such a bloody idiot! Merlin, I wish someone would just come along and put me out of my misery. I've just told the woman that I adore that I've a date with another girl. A girl that doesn't even exist! Bloody hell!
To my delight (I'm a horrible man) I see a slight flicker of what I've decided is disappointment mixed with jealousy cross her face and I do a little mental dance of joy.
"Oh." She brightens slightly, but I suspect it was false (I can be just as delusional as the next insanely in-love man). "I was going to ask if you wanted to join me, but you'll probably be leaving soon."
Why couldn't I have told her that my scar hurts or I couldn't sleep because Voldemort was invading my dreams again? Just because he's dead (go me) doesn't mean it wouldn't work, it would probably just really freak her out and then I could've comforted her… now that would've been a good plan. God, I'm disturbed.
"Yeah," I mumble unenthusiastically. "She'll be expecting me soon."
She smiles brightly, a little to brightly. "Well, have a good time. I'll see you at lunch, I suppose."
How long does she expect me to be gone and what, exactly, does she think I'll be doing with the imaginary Hilda Ginklefief? I decide not to voice these questions and instead leave the common room trying to look like I'm anticipating a wonderful date and not like I'd much rather stay and snog Hermione, which I would. Even if Hilda was real.
* * *
It's time for lunch, finally. I've been walking around this ruddy lake for hours. It actually hasn't been so bad, gave me plenty of uninterrupted time to think about Hermione and plan our wedding (and wedding night) and I've made a few decisions about it: 1. I'd like to get married at Hogwarts for two reasons, the first being that it's the only place I've ever really felt at home (I wonder if that's just because Hermione is here as I think that any place Hermione is would feel like home to me), and the second being that this is the place that I first met Hermione and where we've spent so many wonderful times together; 2. We should get married as soon as possible because I consider anytime spent not being her husband to be a complete waste of time; 3. It would be bloody fantastic to make love with her in one of the empty classrooms; 4. The castle and grounds are absolutely breathtaking in any season and the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall would make a lovely touch to the ceremony; 5. Hogwarts is protected from any and all dark magic, so we wouldn't have to worry about anything happening; 6. It would be so wonderfully inappropriate and therefore great to make love with her in one of the classrooms (any of them, I'm not picky).
I've also made a few decisions about our honeymoon: 1. It will be never ending and we will only get out of bed when absolutely necessary; 2. Clothes will be banned unless we have company, which we really shouldn't because who has company on their honeymoon? 3. It will be somewhere that no one can find… ever; 4. It will be whatever Hermione wants because she rules my heart and, therefore, my world (just so long as if follows the three aforementioned criteria).
I continue to mull over our honeymoon as I make my way to the Great Hall for lunch and decide that maybe that isn't the best topic to mull over before I enter a room that contains the entire population of Hogwarts as it makes me rather unpresentable. So, now I'm standing outside the Great Hall, absolutely famished and thinking about very unattractive things (Snape in a dress, Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy) which seems to be working quite well until Hermione appears around the corner, her robes in complete disarray, her hair wonderfully mussed, and chewing thoughtfully on the end of her quill as she studies the book in her hands. Now I'm back at square one, but I can't find it in me to care because Hermione's here and whenever Hermione is around everything is right with the world.
I step out of the shadows that I was hiding in and call her name. She looks up in surprise and quickly snatches a piece of parchment from the book and shoves it in her pocket. I realize with not a small bit of pleasure that it was one of my many notes that I left for her and wonder which one it was as there were several very good ones (if I do say so myself, which I do).
"Oh, hi, Harry. How was your date?"
Date? What in Merlin's name is she talking about? I decide to ask her this. "Date? What in Merlin's name-" Riiiight, my pretend date with my pretend girlfriend Hilda Ginklefief. Man, that was a stroke of genius that just will not stop coming back to bite me in the arse, isn't it? "Oh, yeah, it was great. Yeah, a really good time was had all around." I try to look serious and like I really did enjoy myself, which actually isn't that hard because I really did enjoy walking it. A little too much, some might say, but I am not one of them.
Again I see a flicker of something cross her pretty face and again I decide that it can't be anything other than disappointment and jealousy. Don't worry, sweet Hermione, you're the only girl for me.
"Good, I'm glad. Hilda's a really lucky girl to have you."
I swear I almost had a heart attack. That is the first time that Hermione has ever said anything to me that even remotely concerns anything she may feel for me. Apparently I look rather odd at the moment as my brain takes that and runs because Hermione is looking at me in concern and I think that maybe I should do or say something.
"Urgh… bha…uh." Good God, I think my brain has leaked out my ear. I am going to die when she finally says that she loves me. Can't even handle an accidental reference to feelings that may or may not exist. I'm pathetic, really truly pathetic.
Now she's even more concerned, not that anyone could blame her since I've apparently gone temporarily brain dead. And she's walking towards me and you'd think that she's never been within five feet of me before the way my heart is pounding in my chest. These plans are going to be the death of me seeing as it's only day one of Plan A and my brain has already gone on sabbatical.
I jolt back to reality when her hand grips my arm and I try to smile down at her, but I don't think it works because now she's frowning at me and I think she's saying something about Madame Pomfrey and the hospital wing, so I just shake my head and I think I say something about just being hungry, but I'm not really sure. I decide I must've said something to that affect because now she's leading me into the Great Hall. We stop across from Ron and I see him smirk at me, but Hermione's now holding my hand so I decide to ignore it.
I sit down on the bench and she sits beside me and she's sitting so close that her leg occasionally rubs my. She's talking to Ron and he keeps looking at me and then at Hermione's plate and I wonder what he's on about. Then I see it, there's a little piece of parchment sticking out from under her plate and it can only be one of my notes.
"What's that under your plate, Hermione?"
I could smack Ron, I really could. As if I'm not a nervous wreck already, he has to point out the note. Now she's reaching for it and she's frowning and I can't decide whether she's worried about what this note will say of anxious to read it. Now she's unfolding it and everything seems to be going in slow motion. She's reading it now and I try reading it over her shoulder because I can't remember what it says. I can only catch glimpses of it because she keeps turning it away so I can't see, but I see enough to know that it's one of the best, very poetic and sweet. I watch her as she reads it and I'm pleased to see the corners of her mouth curl ever so slightly as she mouths the words. A light blush colors her cheeks and I'm so bloody relieved that she likes the notes.
"Well, what is it, then?" Ron asks around a mouthful of chicken.
Hermione carefully folds it and puts in her bag, where I see that there are several others all carefully set aside so that her books won't crush them. "Oh, it's just a note that someone's left for me."
Ron raises his eyebrows and looks very interested, but I know it's an act because he's the one that put the note there so he already knows what it say. I've never really noticed before, but Ron is quite the actor.
"Like a love letter? From who?"
Hermione blushes even more and I think I'm blushing a little myself and I hope she doesn't notice. "No, it's just a note."
"From who?" He asks again, though he knows full well whom it's from and that it's not signed.
Hermione shrugs. "I don't know, it isn't signed." Deciding that the conversation is over, Hermione digs into her lunch.
Ron looks at me and grins and I'm a little worried that he's going to keep at her, but I'm hoping he does because then I might be better able to gauge her reaction.
"It wasn't signed?" He's looking at Hermione now. "Do you mean to tell me that you have a secret admirer?"
Hermione frowns at him and I really wish that she'd let on about how she feels about these notes. But I decide that she must rather enjoy them since she's being rather careful to keep them from getting damaged in her bag. I've been surreptitiously looking at the in her bag and have noticed that the half dozen giant books that she's somehow crammed in there are even close to touching the notes, which is a feat that could only be accomplished by casting some sort of protection charm on the notes. Which must mean that she's enjoying this little game of 'secret admirer,' but still I decide to leave the noted anonymous until at least tomorrow. Just in case.
"No, Ron, I don't mean to tell you that I've a secret admirer. I don't mean to tell you anything at all." Uh-oh, she seems to be getting a little annoyed with him, not that that's unusual.
Ron turns on me and I suddenly have a sinking suspicion that whatever he's up to won't be good. "Do you hear that, Harry? Hermione's got a secret admirer. I wonder who it could be."
I shrug and try not to blush, but fail miserably. I can feel Hermione's eyes on me and I try to act as casual as possible, which isn't all that easy when my face feels as hot as it does.
"I don't know, Ron. Could be any bloke. Who wouldn't fancy Hermione?" I can tell from Ron's shocked expression that I've said that out loud and I rapidly try to think of some way to cover it, but nothing's coming to me and I can feel Hermione watching me, but I don't dare look at her. I can feel my face getting hotter, but I just can't think about something to cover with. So I think I mumbled something about having to meet Hilda again before I rush out of the Great Hall.
It isn't until I'm outside again that I realize that not only have I said that I've a date with the nonexistent Hilda, but that I also left my lunch untouched and now I'm beyond famished.
* * *
After another few laps around the lake, I'm seriously considering running all the way to Hogsmeade to find something to eat. I haven't been this hungry since I was eleven and living with the Dursleys. But I decide that I'll just have to hold out for three hours when supper will finally be served. I have it planned so that this time I won't be able to say something embarrassing and end up missing another meal as I honestly don't think I could make it. I figure if I sit at the opposite end of the table than Hermione then I can't possibly embarrass myself in front of her or say anything about Hilda thus further convincing Hermione that I fancy some other girl (like that's possible). Now, I know what you're thinking and you may be right. Avoiding Hermione at supper may give her the wrong impression, I can see how my avoiding her may lead her to believe that I'm upset with her or don't fancy her, thus putting an extra spin on Plan A. But it's just a risk I have to take. A man's got to eat.
As I'm mulling over this and trying not to think about how hungry I am, Ron shows up out of the blue.
"Harry, mate, I've been looking everywhere for you. You just took off, you didn't even eat your lunch."
Gee, Ron, thanks for pointing that out because I had no bloody idea! I've been told I get a slight bit cranky when I haven't eaten, I've no idea what that's supposed to mean.
I watch Ron reach into his pocket and pull out a small bundle wrapped in a handkerchief. "I snagged this for you, figured you might be hungry."
He hands me the bundle and I fold back the handkerchief to reveal a small pile of food. I love Ron, he's my favourite person in the world (next to Hermione of course). I could hug him, but I won't because that's just wrong. So, instead I smile gratefully and start inhaling what he's brought me.
"Hermione's been asking why you took off like that. She thinks maybe she's done something to upset you."
I look at him like he's daft but I'm really thinking that Hermione must be the daft one to think that I could stay mad at her over anything for more than several minutes.
"I told her I had to meet Hilda."
I find it rather interesting that Ron looks rather guilty when I mention Hilda. Hmmm.
Ron looks away and I notice that his ears are pink and I wonder if it's because it's a little nippy today or because I've caught him out on something.
"Yeah, about that, Harry. She kind of knows that there is no Hilda." If I didn't have a mouth full of food I'd either tear him a new one or thank him profusely, but since I do have a mouth full I settle for scowling at him. It seems to do the trick as he starts stammering. "I-it wasn't me, Harry. R-really. Hermione's the smartest witch at Hogwarts. She figured it out herself." Well, that's really not at all surprising. My Hermione is a very clever, resourceful witch. "She checked the school records for her name and it wasn't there."
Ha, Hermione couldn't stand the thought of me having a girlfriend. Point for Harry Potter.
Ron looks at me a little nervously (he does that every now and then since I defeated Voldemort, finally realized that I could turn him to spider with a thought if I so choose, not that I ever would, but he doesn't need to know that at this point in time). "Are you upset, Harry?"
I swallow my mouthful and look sadly at the empty handkerchief and give a fleeting thought as to the cleanliness and said handkerchief, oh well, too late now.
"No, I'm not upset. Clears things up a bit actually. I was a little concerned about what Hermione might think if I suddenly moved onto her from Hilda."
Ron scoffs and I hear him mutter "yeah, suddenly" and I scowl. "It would be sudden to her, wouldn't it? She doesn't know how I feel."
"Actually, I think maybe she does, Harry."
I look at him in surprise and I feel very relieved that she knows. "Really? What did she say?"
"Well, she didn't actually say anything. But she knows there is no Hilda Ginklefief and she's seen the doodles on your parchments, you know, H.P. + H.G. I imagine she's put it together by now."
Hmmm, that's a good point. She probably has put it together. "But she hasn't been acting any differently." I say more to myself than to Ron.
He answers anyway. "Well, I think she knows more on a subconscious level. I don't really think she's let herself believe it yet." I must look pretty amazed at this astute observation because Ron's ears turn a distinct color of pink and he shuffles his feet a little. "I think maybe I've been spending too much time with Hermione."
"Yeah, I think so." I find myself briefly wondering if Ron still has feelings for Hermione, but figure that if he did he wouldn't be nearly so helpful in my crusade to win her heart (or rather make her realize that I already have her heart because I'm pretty sure that I do).
"Anyway, she's been looking for you. She thinks your avoiding her and that's why you've made up all this Hilda nonsense."
Avoiding her? Why, in Merlin's name, would I avoid the one person who I always want to be with. If it weren't for the lack of a connection between my brain and my mouth, I wouldn't be out here in the first place on a pretend date with a pretend person. Maybe I should consider psychiatric treatment. Just a thought.
"Maybe I should go find her." And hopefully this time I won't become a bumbling fool. Yeah, good luck with that. "Did she say anything about the notes? Does she know who they're from?"
Ron shakes his head. "Nah, she thinks someone's playing a joke on her. She's kind of ignoring them, playing them off like they're nothing, you know? I think she's in the library if you want to see her."
If I want to see her, I always want to see her. "I'm going to have to start signing the notes. I don't want her thinking someone's playing some kind of cruel joke on her. That wouldn't be right."
"Alright, see you later, Harry."
I just wait distractedly at him, my mind is already on other matters. Like how I'm going to keep my brain functioning properly while I talk to Hermione. I can do it, I know I can, I've been managing it nicely for the last seven years.