What Women Want

Parvati_Patil

Rating: R
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 23/11/2004
Last Updated: 03/08/2006
Status: in_progress

We all know the movie... Harry wakes up and can suddenly hear women's thoughts - the good... and the bad! What happens when he can hear the thoughts of the Hogwarts’ female population? What about one female in particular? Takes place in 7th year. (PG13 - R, so R to be safe)

Chapters

1. Chapter 1

2. Chapter 2

3. Chapter 3

4. Chapter 4 - EDITED!

5. Chapter 5

6. Chapter 6

7. Chapter 7

8. Chapter 8

9. Chapter 9

1. Chapter 1

This is based on the “What Women Want” challenge from the forums. Harry is in 7th year. I don't know how long this will turn out to be, I have a plan, but it might be quite long (or maybe not!).

BTW, “HP and the Second Prophecy” will be updated soon (and the two stories have nothing to do with each other!)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Everything belongs to the magnificent genius J. K. Rowling

~*~

Chapter One:

It was three o'clock on a Sunday afternoon and Harry Potter was still asleep in his quidditch uniform. His best friend, Ron Weasley, thought he could quietly sneak into the dormitory to retrieve his homework. Waking up Harry was not a great idea right now considering the circumstances.

Ron opened his trunk and slowly lifted his book out when a spider ran across his hand. Ron cursed loudly, dropping the book onto the stone floor. He cursed silently again.

Harry groaned loudly from the next bed and sat up, holding his head between his hands.

“Ron?”

Ron took a deep breath and slowly turned around.

“Yea?”

“What he hell did you give me last night?” he demanded.

Ron cringed as he thought back to last night's party for Gryffindor's win over Slytherin in quidditch.

...

“Hey mate! Brilliant game! I wish I could have seen the look on Malfoy's face up close when you caught the snitch from just above his head!”

Harry laughed, “Me too!”

“Oh yea,” said Ron. “Forgot.” Harry had been unseated by a bludger just after his miraculous catch.

“Well you must be thirsty, Harry. Here.”

Ron handed Harry a cold glass of pumpkin juice that was ever-so-slightly smoking. But it was impossible for someone to notice unless that someone knew something was wrong with the cup's contents, which Ron did.

He and Seamus tried to make alcohol prior to the party. Both of them had flat out refused to test it, so they decided to spike someone's drink to see if they had succeeded.

Harry smiled and took a long gulp emptying the glass. He let out his breath and said, “My complements to the house elves!”

“Cheers!” said Ron, grinning as he lifted his own glass to his lips.

Harry's smile remained etched on his face, but his eyes rolled back and he fell over backwards out cold.

Ron's grin of success disappeared as he watched Harry fall. He looked into his own cup and poured it out in the nearest flowerpot. The flower started to quiver and then instantly wilted. Ron looked wide-eyed at his friend, who was luckily still breathing.

…

“Er, what do you mean?”

“Ron,” Harry said slowly. “What did you give me last night?!”

“Oh…that. Well, I'm not sure really,” Ron said.

Harry looked up at him with blood-shot eyes, “Pardon?”

“Seamus-and-I tried-to-make-alcohol-last-night-after-the-game,” Ron said really fast.

Harry's head spun. “What?”

“Seamus and I… tried to make alcohol last night. You know, to make the party a little more interesting.”

“So you're not sure exactly what you made, but you think it was alcohol. And I was your guinea pig?” Harry asked, climbing out of his 4-poster bed.

Ron looked sheepishly at the ground.

“Yup,” answered Harry, nodding at Ron as he passed him on the way to the bathroom.

“You lucky I'm seeing double night now,” Harry said slightly to Ron's right.

Harry turned on the water in the shower as he proceeded to peel off the sweat-dried clothes.

Stepping into the shower, Harry felt like shit. He head was throbbing at the crown and temples. His eyes couldn't quite focus on any given object and his stomach was churning.

Ron hesitated before he walked into the bathroom that was clouded with steam.

“Harry? Are you trying to drown yourself?”

Ron heard the water stop and Harry's hand appeared searching for a towel. The seventeen year old that stepped out of the shower was a scary sight.

“Listen mate, I'm sorry about last night, I think that Seamus has a hangover tonic.”

“You want to give me something else that Seamus has concocted?” Harry asked plainly.

“He didn't make it, he bought it,” Ron replied quietly.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“If you feel the way you look, I would strongly recommend it.”

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed, hanging his head.

“Fine.”

…

Harry had to admit it, he did fell a bit better after the tonic, but he still didn't feel great. He actually felt like rearranging Ron's face into a picture worthy of Picasso. But Ron had apologized repeatedly, so Harry forgave him out of pity and weariness.

Weariness is what drove Harry back to bed without ever stepping foot outside the dormitory on Sunday. Ron wisely decided just to let him sleep.

…

Harry awoke Monday morning feeling a lot better than yesterday's fiasco. After a quick shower woke him up completely, he found his uniform in his trunk.

“Ron? You awake?”

All Harry could hear was snores from Ron's bed. Harry walked over and pulled the curtain aside.

“Ron! Spiders!” Harry yelled.

Ron bolted up, screaming and swatting away the non-existent spiders. He stopped mid-swat when he noticed that Harry was snickering. Ron looked around at his bed and glared at Harry.

“Harry, you're such a wonderful friend,” said Ron sarcastically.

“Well you deserve it for being such a prat yesterday!”

“Oh, well I see someone's feeling better today.”

“Yea and get up. I'm starving!”

…

Ron and Harry raced downstairs where everyone was congregating before breakfast. Harry passed Ginny sitting at a table beside the stairs when he stopped in shock.

Had he just heard what he thought…? No, obviously whatever Ron gave him was still doing funny things to his head.

Harry almost started walking again when he spun around, this time positive that he heard Ginny say what he heard.

Ginny was sitting with her head in one hand, staring at a group of 7th years. It was imperatively impossible, but Harry distinctly heard her say,

“I should fight with Dean more often! The make-up sex was well-worth it!”

Harry stared at Ginny appalled. He managed to find his voice.

“Err, Ginny?”

She turned around, startled to see Harry standing beside her.

“Hello Harry! Are you all right? I don't think I saw you yesterday.”

“Yea. Yea, I think so,” he replied, utterly confused.

Ginny's faint smile didn't move nor did her expression change, but Harry definitely heard her say,

“I could make you alright, Harry. You don't know what you're missing. I'm sure Dean wouldn't mind…”

Harry's jaw dropped in disbelief and he ran out of the common room.

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2. Chapter 2

Even though this is based on the idea of the movie “What Women Want”, it isn't going to be like the movie (sorry to those of you who said you loved the movie, etc). I'm just taking the idea from the challenge in the forums.

Ok, if the quotations are in italics, then they are thoughts, not spoken. But Harry still doesn't know that he is hearing thoughts!

Wow! This story was a pretty big hit! I hope I don't disappoint you all! Thanks to the many reviewers who reviewed my story so far! They are really helpful!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Everything belongs to the magnificent genius J. K. Rowling

~*~

Chapter Two:

Harry ran out of the portrait hole. He had faced Voldemort, Tom Riddle, a whole party of death eaters and all kinds of other danger before, but Ginny Weasley's words shared the shit out of him.

He stopped, panting and bent over just outside the common room. He knew that Ginny's crush on him never really died completely, but honesty!

He heard the fat lady swing back into place. He also heard her say:

“Oh, its Mr. Harry Potter. He thinks he can just ignore the rules and sneak off into the night whenever he wants to…”

Harry stopped panting and stood up straight, listening. He turned to look at her. Her mouth was full of grapes.

“Just like his father, he is!”

He scrunched up his brow, mouth slightly open.

A Ravenclaw 6th year passed Harry, who was still staring at the fat lady. As she got just past him, she turned to look forward and said quite clearly for everyone to hear (if there was anyone else in the corridor, but that wasn't quite relevant to what she said), “Harry Potter... I really don't think that Lucy was telling the truth: no way has Harry Potter slept with her. She's such a bitch; I'm going to win the bet! Plus, I'm way more experienced in these matters. Harry Potter doesn't stand a chance…”

His head whipped around and his eyebrows shot up. He backed away slowly, turned, and ran off.

Walking with his head in his hands, several people passed him, each one saying totally random stuff to… well Harry wasn't even sure as some people seemed to just be talking to themselves. He even thought he heard some things that, he for one, wouldn't have said out loud.

Harry turned and walked down an empty corridor, thoroughly disturbed. “What is wrong with everyone? Everyone is acting very… odd. First Ginny's… yea, then the fat lady turned moody! And what was with that Ravenclaw; can you say `mating season'? What's next? OH SHIT!”

Not watching where he was going around the corner, he ran head-on into someone and fell over backwards. Rubbing his head, his eyes slowly refocused. A girl with long, frizzy brown hair and glasses was staring back at him. He didn't recognize her, but he guessed her to be around 5th year.

She was in the process of picking up her many books that had fallen out of her bag to notice who she'd ran into. Harry spotted a book beside him and picked it up and handed it to her. Taking it and turning to look at Harry, she nearly feinted.

“Oh sweet Merlin! Harry Potter”

She smiled weakly at Harry, who just stared back at her perplexed, and she walked away, hugging her bag.

“Oh, I bet he doesn't even know my name.”

As Harry heard her comment as she walked away, his brain reached two conclusions: either he was going mad, or everyone else was. The former was probably more possible, ironically. He backed up very slowly, checking to see that the corridor was completely empty.

“Harry, just calm down…”

Harry rubbed his temples and he sat down on a bench in the corridor, head in hands.

“Breathe… this is a weird dream, just pinch yourself and wake up…Ow! Damn it! Ok, obviously not a dream…”

A loud slam and a yelp of pain erupted in the hallway and Harry's head jerked up. Two girls were standing a little ways down the corridor; one bending down to pick up a book that she had evidently dropped on the other girls' foot.

“I'm really sorry Hetty! Is your foot all right?” the first girl said, extending out her arm in remorse.

“Oh, don't worry about it, it's fine!” “Clumsy bitch, your always dropping things! And I'll probably have a bruise there later!” the second girl replied, smiling sweetly.

Harry just stared at the two girls as they walked off. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear that he was hearing… but no, even in the wizarding world that was impossible. He had already experienced once that even hearing non-existent voices labeled you as a nutter.

Harry took a deep breath and turned to walk into the Great Hall were everyone else was eating breakfast. The amount of noise that vibrated off the walls was a lot louder that Harry had ever heard it.

Harry quickly found Ron sitting with Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Ginny. Harry eyed Ginny nervously, who was engaged in a conversation with Dean. He sat down and smiled meekly. Ron turned to talk to Harry.

“Hey mate, where have you been?” asked Ron. “I lost you in the common room.”

“I…uh…I'm fine!”

“Ok… where did you go when we went downstairs?”

Harry didn't seem to hear Ron's question and carried on. “I mean… do I look different? I don't look like I'm going crazy, do I?”

“Harry…”

“Cause if I do, then that explains…”

“Harry!”

Harry stopped rambling and looked up at him, apparently surprised to hear Ron was speaking to him.

“What?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yea you do look a bit pale, Harry,” interrupted Ginny.

Harry's eyes widened slightly and his head rotated to look at Ginny, whose face was unreadable.

“Aww, he's so cute when he's tired!”

Harry blinked. “Pardon?”

“I said you look a bit pale.”

Harry stared at her. “No, what did you say after you said that?”

“Harry?” Dean asked. “You sure you're alright?”

“Of course, why not? I just didn't quite catch what Ginny said.”

Dean glanced at Ginny, slightly confused. “She didn't say anything mate.”

Everyone went back to eating, after giving Harry odd looks. Harry himself scrunched up his brow and leaned back, thinking.

“What the devil is everyone playing at?”

“And he's even cuter when he's confused!”

Harry sat straight up. “Sorry, what was that?”

Ron put his fork down and gave Harry a queer look. “Harry, are you sure you're ok?”

“I'M FINE!”

“Well you bloody well aren't acting like it!”

Harry shrugged his comment off. “You… you didn't hear… anything?”

“Well, seeing as no one has really said anything… no!” Ron said obviously.

Harry slowly let out his breath that he realized he was holding. Everyone was looking at him like he was eccentric.

“What? Please tell me as to what is so odd, because you are all the ones that are deaf!”

“Oh I'd like to tell you a few things…”

Harry was fed up with this act. “Then please, Ginny. Pray tell.”

Ginny's eyes darted, “I… I… Harry?”

“WHAT!”

Ginny gapped at him, at loss for words.

“Fine! Gods, if you are all trying to drive me crazy…” Harry stood up, searching for the right words. “Well, it's working!”

He walked fuming out of the Great Hall, headed for the dungeons for potions for, little to Harry's knowledge, what was destined to be a very interesting lesson.

~*~

AN: I'm really sorry that this one is short as well. I really wanted to post a chapter, but I also really want to work on the potion's class scene some more. Sorry! And the reason that I haven't posted it because I'm VERY busy this season: I'm in the Wizard of Oz pantomime (any of you English people near Manchester - come and see it! It's at the Lowry and it will be magnificent! I'm a senior dancer!). That plus other dance classes and a growing mountain of schoolwork has me extremely booked for no free time! But after the 17th, it will get better, and it will definitely get better after the Pantomime ends in early January. I'm really sorry that posts will be a bit slow until then! Please keep reading - I have some great ideas for this story!

3

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3. Chapter 3

I'm sooooo sorry for the long update! I've been really busy with a pantomime and then catching up on missed schoolwork. Well here is the 3rd chapter!

Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far! I'm so happy that this is so liked! Yay me! And the reviews are VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Everything belongs to the magnificent genius J. K. Rowling

~*~

Chapter Three:

Harry took his time on the way to potions. He purposely took the long way, and by long way, Harry walked everywhere else first before making his way to the dungeons.

Harry didn't know what was going on, but that was beside the point. The point was… The point was that something was going on and he didn't like it. He tried to stay clear away from everyone else in the castle by all means necessary.

He had almost crossed paths with Pansy Parkinson and one of her cronies. Harry had to hide behind a tapestry for god-knows how long, listening to a rather R-rated conversation about Pansy and some Ravenclaw (whom Harry couldn't distinguish the gender, because she/he sounded big everywhere) before he could breath air that wasn't poisoned with mothballs.

Harry decided he had better head towards Snape's classroom. Walking through the dungeons, he heard someone call his name.

Harry turned around to see his other best friend come running down the stone corridor, very much out of breath. She stopped in front of him and leaned on his shoulder to catch her breath.

“Hey Hermione!” Harry smiled, then muttered, “Thank god for someone normal this morning…”

“What?” Hermione looked up.

“Uh, never mind. Where have you been?”

“Oh - pant - I was in the library.”

Hermione bent over to search for something in her bag, her curly hair hiding her face.

“Where is that schedule. All the times are fucking different this year! I swear if we are late for Snape's class…!”

Harry checked his watch; they weren't late. Harry stared at his friend. “Hermione, you alright?”

Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear and straightened up, her smile would have assured Harry that nothing was wrong except for the fact that she blatantly didn't sound it. “Yea, I'm fine. It's been a very bad morning and I didn't get any sleep…”

Her hand slipped out of her bag holding her timetable. “…Parvati and Lavender were at it all night! No one could sleep through that!”

“Hermione?” Harry's voice was abnormally high.

She looked up and blinked. Twice. “Yea?”

“Er… uh…” Harry really didn't know how to phrase his question.

She shook her head and checked the schedule. “Bloody Hell!” Her paled, panicked face looked up. “Harry, were are fifteen minutes late for potions.”

It took Harry a few seconds to register what she had said before he remembered that his watch didn't work anymore. They both bolted down the stairs and ran to the end of the corridor. Harry reached the door first and opened it as thirteen heads turned to stare at them. A few snickering (Draco Malfoy and company), one looked highly confused (Ron), and the one that Harry and Hermione were paying attention to, looked disgusted, insulted, and utterly not amused. Snape.

“Damn it, why did they have to change the times this term?!”

Harry looked in disbelief at Hermione, who slightly slunk against the door. She looked back, eyebrows raised.

“Mr. Potter. Did you know that there are certain rules at this school? You have just broken about three: being late for class, entering a classroom without knocking or consulting a teacher first -”

“WHAT! He made that rule up!”

Harry looked at Hermione, who was staring blankly at Snape. Looking around, he didn't think anyone else heard Hermione, even though she practically shouted.

Snape hadn't even paused in his speech “ - and running in the corridor; unless, of course, there is another reason you and Miss Granger are out of breath.”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Draco Malfoy had to bite his tongue to stop from laughing. Snape looked seriously, while holding back a grin, at the both of them.

“Since you both have broken three rules, I think 30 points from Gryffindor should do it.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something, anything, when Snape finished: “30 points each.”

Harry's jaw dropped. That was more points than he had earned winning over Slytherin in quidditch.

Snape started to walk back to his podium from where he liked to drone, when he paused, inclining his head around towards them. “Do I need to deduct more points for you to find your seats?”

Hermione jumped slightly and hurried to her seat. Harry followed her and sat on the side of Ron that Hermione hadn't already taken.

“Now, as I was saying: Does anyone know the main ingredients in the Draught of Sleep?”

Harry heard Hermione recite promptly: “Powdered root of the redwood herb, slivered salamander's tail, and… oh no, wait… that is the Sleeping POTION! The Draught of Sleep is…”

Harry put his head in his hands. What was wrong with Hermione? Snape was going to kill her for speaking out of turn. But when he looked up, Snape was looking at Draco Malfoy, whom also had his hand raised.

“Mr. Malfoy?”

Malfoy glanced at Hermione before answering. “Smashed head of tarantula, the juice from the esphedel plant, and the powdered root of the redwood herb.”

Snape's slight smile disappeared.

“HA! That's wrong you slimy…ferrety…bastard! That is in the sleeping potion, not the draught! Its powdered root of dogwood! Damn, Snape never picks me, the segregated…”

Harry turned and whispered to Ron, “What the hell is wrong with Hermione?”

Ron looked at Hermione then slightly inclined his head to talk to Harry. “What do you mean, she always raises her hand to answer teachers.”

Harry looked blankly at Ron. “So, that is all she is doing? She's not calling Snape a segregated bastard who is either very gay or doesn't have a regular human anatomy?”

Ron choked back a laugh.

“Mr. Potter? Do you know which root is in the Draught of Sleep?”

“DOGWOOD!” Hermione hissed.

“Dogwood?” Harry smiled in a yes-I-came-up-with-that-answer-all-by myself-I-promise way, but not so convincingly.

Snape's stare lingered from Harry to Hermione and back to Harry before he moved on the write the other ingredients on the board. Harry could almost visualize the ideas titled “Ways to Get Harry in Detention Before Lunch” shooting through his mind.

As everyone got out his or her cauldrons and ingredients, Ron turned to Harry. “Harry, we haven't looked over our potions notes in… I dunno, ages. How did you guess the right root?”

Harry couldn't believe he was hearing this. “Hermione said it.”

“Hermione didn't say anything! She was doing what she always does in this class: raise her hand to a teacher who is never going to call on her!”

Harry shook his head as he went to smash his tarantula heads. “Ron, I don't know what is going on. I really don't, but when I figure it out, I'll tell you.”

Ron glanced at Harry over his esphedel plant. Hermione groaned.

Ron glared at her and whispered, “What did I do this time?”

“Nothing… did you, er, read the instructions in your book?”

“No, Snape just said to mix all the ingredients together.”

“Yes… but they have to be mixed in a certain order. It's all in your book.”

“Well excuse me for not instinctively opening my book first!” Ron hissed.

Hermione closed her eyes as she rolled them. ”You are so bloody useless at potions! Snape even wrote the ingredients in the order on the board! Leave it to you to start at the bottom of a numbered list!”

Harry decided to stay out of this one, looking down and shaking his head at the table. But he was surprised to see Ron let Hermione have the last word. Hermione was normally the mature one and let Ron throw the last childish insult, while both Harry and Hermione knew that Hermione was normally correct in matters. All three of them went back to their potions.

“Smashed tarantula head…check. Powdered root of dogwood…check. And juiced esphedel plant…check. Now the book says to add all of the smaller ingredients first, then add the others on at a time. The potion should change colors each time a new major ingredient is added.”

Harry couldn't believe that Snape wasn't deducting points for Hermione talking to herself. Harry glanced at Hermione as she scraped ingredients off her cutting board into the cauldron. Ron still seemed to be holding a grudge and a `lets ignore Hermione's potion-ly correct instructions' protest as he dumped all of his ingredients into his cauldron, which bubbled to a neon pink color.

Harry decided to follow Hermione's instructions. He copied her motions and whispers as they both dropped in each of the main ingredients, each time emitting a small whiff of smoke and turning a different color. Both potions turned bright red to a purplely-blue. The end result was jet black.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Snape was watching his every move.

“Class, your potions should be finished by now. Please bring a vial up to the front of the classroom to be tested.”

The class grouped at the front, all the different color vials, the majority of them black, lined up on the front demonstration table. Snape looked the vials over, snickering at Ron's still bubbling pink one.

He picked Ron's vial up. “Mr. Weasley, what is this?”

“Er… the Draught of Sleep…sir?”

Snape smiled, “We shall see.” Snape took off the glass lid and poured the potions over a toad. At first, it appeared to have no effect. Snape smartly put the toad on the table, because after a few seconds, it dissolved into more bubbling pink liquid.

Snape raised his eyebrows at Ron, who looked up at the ceiling. The toad reformed from the pink potion, only to burst into more pink potion.

Snape picked Harry's vial up and selected a new toad. Popping the lid, he trickled a few drops over the toad. It instantly flopped over on it's back in, what Harry hoped to be, a deep sleep.

Snape looked at Harry. “Five points from Gryffindor. Miss Granger, you still haven't learned not to boss instructions around to people!”

Hermione looked up, highly offended. “Wha-?”

“Make that 10. Class dismissed.”

Everyone cleared his or her tables off. Snape cleared away the vials at the front of the room.

“Apparently Plan A of `Get Harry in Detention' didn't work so he went with Plan B: `Deduct as many points as possible from Harry'”, Harry thought bitterly.

Hermione starred daggers at him. “You slimy… stupid… Bastard!!”

Harry couldn't take it anymore. As soon as Snape left the room, Harry confronted Hermione. “Hermione? What is going on?”

She put away her ingredients before replying with a shrug and a “What do you mean?”

“You just called Snape a slimy bastard not so very behind his back, though I don't think he noticed, but that is beside the point, and you are trying to tell me that there is nothing wrong? I know that its true, but it's not like you at all to just yell at a teacher.”

Hermione's eyes widened in panic. “I - I said that out loud?! Oh my… he was in the room!” Hermione put her book into her bag, her eyebrows clenched in thought. “Wait. No, I didn't say that out loud, Harry!”

Harry dropped his bag and raised his arm and pointed an accusing finger at Hermione. “Oh you had to have! I heard you!”

Hermione put down her bag. “How could you have heard me?”

Harry was about to rip his hair out. “Hermione, stop playing games with me! I heard you, okay! You've been talking the entire class!”

“I have not! Snape takes off major points to anyone who does that!”

Beside Harry, Ron stared at his open potions book.

“Harry?” Ron's voice sqeaked.

“What Ron?”

Ron looked at his book, then at Harry, then at Hermione. He looked back at his book and shut it. Grabbing Harry's arm, he ran out of the potions room, dragging Harry with him. Ron didn't stop running until they were both in front of the fat lady on the 7th floor.

***

Harry was out of breath. “Ron, what is wrong with you!”

“Harry, I don't know how to say this…”

“Ron, what is it? You can tell me anything.”

Ron folded his arms. “Harry, how was your morning?”

The said Harry was taken aback. “Er, weird actually.”

Ron looked uncomfortable. One arm rose to support his chin. “Weird…hmmm…how so?”

“What does it have to do with anything?”

Ron showed Harry the potions book he had been looking at. His arm went from his chin to his forehead, hiding his face.

“Seamus and I checked this book out of the library a couple of days ago… for the party.”

Harry's eye's narrowed. “And?”

Ron looked panic stricken. Turning to the fat lady he yelled the password in hopes of waking her up.

“Ron, are you stalling?”

Ron turned around, “No, I just don't want you to yell at me out here…with no… witnesses - FLOBBERWORM!”

“Alright, Alright.” “Merlin's beard, hold your horses!”

As soon as the portrait allowed enough room, Harry followed Ron into the common room.

“Ron, what is it?”

Ron turned around, eye-balling three 2nd year girls at a nearby table.

“Well, two-of-the-pages-where-glued-together-and-the-top-of-the-second-one-was-ripped-off-so-the-title-for-the-alcohol-potion-was-with-the-ingredients-for-something-else!”

Ron stopped to catch his breath and Harry's head spun. “Wait… So you don't know what potion you gave me?”

“Uh, well, here at the bottom it says that the `Persona non Grata” potion…”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

Ron kept his voice low, trying not to attract attention. “I don't know, Harry, it looks like Latin for something. Well it says that it's designed for men to hear women's thoughts by concentrating on a women in order to better understand and comprehend the opposite sex.”

Harry took a deep breath and slowly turned his head to look at Ron. “Come again?”

“Harry, I think you can hear what girls are thinking!”

*****

Harry's head spun as he tried to put two and two together. He sat down on the nearest armchair. Ron appeared to be saying something, but Harry couldn't hear him.

“Harry?”

Harry looked up. “Ron? Are you telling me that I can hear what girls are thinking?” Harry hissed, looking around making sure that no one - no one - could hear them.

Ron looked back at the book he was holding. When he looked up, there was no mistaking the guilt on his face. Harry refused to believe this.

“Ron, where the hell did you get that book?”

“Well… the book that we… borrowed…”

“Ron!”

“Fine! The book that we needed was in the restricted section so we stole it!”

Harry was too exhausted to be played with. “So…?”

“So… I had to… borrow… your… invisibility…cloak.”

“Ron, what ever! Just… this is crazy!” Harry sat back, hands over his face. He looked up at Ron. “When you say `borrow' this time you mean - ”

Ron nodded, “Yea.”

Harry shook his head and stood up, “Still, this is CRAZY!”

One of the 2nd year girls muttered, “Touchy! Some people are trying to work over here!”

“Oh shut up!” Harry said instinctively. The little girl's friend huffed.

Ron recoiled. “Hey Harry, I know your mad, but I didn't say anything!”

Harry sat back down. “Not you, her,” he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

Ron suddenly looked very interested and leaned in. “What did you hear?”

“Ron! I'm not hearing things! She was not thinking what I heard!”

Most everyone in the common room was now listening to Ron and Harry's conversation. Harry looked around and grabbed Ron's shirt, pulling him up the stone stairs to their dormitory.

Dumping Ron on his bed, Harry paced in front of him.

“Harry, think about it. This is so cool!”

Harry paused in his pacing, “What? Ron there is no `cool' about it! I'm going mad!”

“No, Harry, listen. You can hear what women are thinking. You can finally hear what men have wanted to hear for… I don't know - centuries!”

Harry pulled his best `you're the crazy one, not me' face. “That's right Ron, you don't know!”

Ron leaned forward. Harry snorted, Ron looked like he was about to give a Quidditch play.

“We can really use this to our advantage! So, what have you heard already?”

“Ron, I already told you: I can't hear women's thoughts!” Harry yelled just as Hermione strolled through the door. Harry heard the door open, and spun around.

A sly, suspicious grin eased onto Hermione's face. “What's this about women?”

Harry noticed Ron about to say something, so, reacting quickly, Harry elbowed him the head, completely missing his stomach as Ron was still sitting on the bed. Ron fell over backwards.

“Nothing, Hermione. Nothing at all.” Harry grinned, trying to assure her that nothing was wrong.

Hermione almost laughed as a confused Ron sat up, rubbing his nose. She glanced at the timetable in her hand. “Oh damn these new times!” “Guys Lunch is over and we are about to be late for McGonagall's test!”

***

Ron and Harry ran after Hermione down the stairs. Staying a few feet behind her, Harry whispered to Ron.

“Ron, what part of that did you hear?”

Ron looked up, obviously trying to recall what he had heard not 30 seconds ago. “Uh… lunch is over… and uh… we are late for a test.” Ron nodded.

“Oh.” said Harry, nodding with him.

Suddenly Harry gasped and Ron had to grab his shirt to keep him from stopping in his tracks. “Ron! McGonagall's test! I forgot all about it! Ron, have you revised?”

“Uh, yea. Yesterday we revised… no. I revised. You were asleep.”

Harry pulled at his hair, “What am I going to do?”

A light bulb went on in Ron's head. “Hermione!”

“No, Ron! I am not telling a GIRL that I can hear what she is thinking!” Harry hissed.

“No, that's just it: you can hear what she is thinking! Use her to get the answers!”

Harry, and consequentially Ron, stopped in front of the Transfiguration classroom. Before Harry had time to consider his options, Ron saw Professor McGonagall coming around the corner, scolding a fourth year, and, thinking fast, not one of Ron's best qualities, he pushed Harry through the large door into the classroom.

9

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4. Chapter 4 - EDITED!

Uh, the potion's name I got from a Latin Generator and it came out… wrong. Lol. It came out as `Ð©Ñ…Ð°Ñ‚ Ð©Ð¾Ð¼ÐµÐ½ Ð©Ð°Ð½Ñ‚' but its supposed to be something else, which always messes up when I upload it! So I changed the name of the potion in the previous chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter.Â Everything belongs to the magnificent genius J. K. Rowling

~*~

Chapter Four:

Harry tripped over the threshold and glared at Ron as he turned to face him.

“I can't cheat on a test!” he hissed.

“Harry do you have any better ideas?” Ron whispered back.

Harry, frustrated, took his usual seat. He ran his hands through his hair and tried to steady his breathing.

“Not as late as I thought we'd be,” said Hermione as she sat beside him.

Harry whipped his head towards her as heard her comment and jumped out of his seat.

“Oh bugger, say something!” “Uh s-sorry Hermione,” Harry stammered. “I, er, I promised Ron that I'd sit next to him. Next to Ron. For the test.”

Harry nodded assuring and sat down directly behind her. He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince his fib to more, Hermione or himself. Hermione's eyes followed him as he sat down again.

“I hope you didn't promise that so he could copy off you!”

Harry went from nodding his head to shaking his head so fast he gave himself a head rush. “Hermione I don't think you have to worry about that!”

“Worry about what?” Ron whispered as he sat next to Harry.

“Oh, I dunno Ron - about everything!” Harry hissed. Hermione glanced over her shoulder, eyebrows raised; Ron and Harry smiled their best innocent smiles at her.

Professor McGonagall walked into the classroom, looking slightly harassed.

“Please take your seat. Quills out; wands and books away. There will be absolutely no talking. You will have one hour to complete the test.”

As she proceeded to pass out the tests, Harry was trying to consider his options. If he failed this test, he'd fail the course completely. And if he failed this course...

“Well I really can't help it if I can hear Hermione, can I?” he thought. ”I mean, I copy her homework all the time…what's one test? Oh bullocks! I sound like Ron!”

McGonagall placed his test in front of him.

Harry looked at it like it might bite his hand off. “Ok, I can do this. Number 1: What is the (a) incantation and (b) the wand movement to transfigure animal colors? What the f-; when the hell did we do that in class!”

Hands on his head, Harry glanced up at Hermione, who was writing as if McGonagall was about to try and take her test off her.

“It's a wonder her wrist doesn't fall off,” Harry grumbled to himself.

Concentrating on Hermione, he listened and copied her thoughts. She seemed to have a song stuck in her head and Harry had to keep crossing out the lyrics he had mistakenly written down.

“Slow down!” he muttered.

“Mr. Potter! No talking during a test!” Professor McGonagall exasperated. She sighed. “I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but you'll have to retake the test in detention.”

She collected his paper, actually looking sorry. Ron was looking from Harry to his test and back at Harry, then at Hermione who had turned around, disbelieving that he had gotten his test taken off him.

Harry was dumbstruck, first he had to copy Hermione, and then he gets detention. Well, at least this way he wouldn't have to cheat and could revise properly.

After what seemed like over the designated hour, Professor McGonagall collected the rest papers, and she dismissed them.

As soon as Harry, Ron, and Hermione were out of the classroom, Hermione rounded on Harry.

“I can't believe you did that! I can't believe SHE did that? You weren't actually talking, were you?” “This is SO unjust! How can she DO that? I mean, she was so - ”

“Hermione, calm down. I'll just go to detention and retake it.”

Hermione breathed deeply then started on her usual post-test worries.

“What did you two put for question twenty-six? I'm sure I forgot the name of that spell!” she said, searching for her book in her overloaded bag. “Oh no, oh no, oh no! I'm going to get that question wrong! What if I get it wrong? What if I get ALL the questions wrong! Oh, where IS that bloody book!”

Harry had to stop her thoughts before she made herself mad; how does she always think like that? “Hermione, I'm sure you did perfect,” said Harry.

“Thanks Harry,” she smiled, pulling out her book and bending her head from their sight to read a passage. “You always know what to say…”. She looked up and with a “I'll see you at dinner, okay?”, she headed in the direction of the library.

Ron waited until she was out of hearing range. “So how'd you find the test?”

Harry sighed, “I didn't really have a choice, so I was copying her before McGonagall took my test.”

Ron looked relieved, “I hoped you had because I copied you.”

Harry gave Ron a defiant stare, which wasn't as effective as he wanted it to be, as he had to look up at Ron to give it to him.

“What?” said Ron. “It's not like I was directly copying you! They weren't even really your answers! Besides, we copy off most of her work anyway!”

“True.” Harry nodded and raised his eyebrows in agreement. They slowly headed towards the Great Hall.

“So you finally agree with me that you can hear what girl's are thinking?” Ron snickered.

“Yea; it's not that bad. Well, some of it is…” Harry admitted.

“Like what?” Ron questioned.

Harry opened his mouth to answer and stopped, scrunching up his brows. He had just heard someone… moaning in the broom closet to their left. Was someone hurt?

“Harry, come on, I'm famished!” said Ron.

The moaning stopped and Harry heard the same person, a girl actually, repeat something incomprehensible, but something along the lines of “har-…ha-…hard…”

Harry cocked his head, trying to listen. “Oh, `Harder',” Harry concluded. “Wha-? Harder?! … Oh!”

“Mate?”

Harry realized who was in the closet and snapped his head around at Ron. “What? … Oh - bad things about hearing… things… well just the whole idea I guess - are you hungry? I'm starving!” covered Harry and talking wildly with his hands, pulling Ron into the Great Hall. Looking over his shoulder, Harry watched as Padma Patil, Ron's ex-girlfriend, and some Ravenclaw bloke sneak out of the broom closet.

~*~

Sorry it's so short! I needed to update and I've been pondering what to do with the rest of this chapter, so I'll just upload the part I've already done! Sorry again!

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5. Chapter 5

Sorry people, but I had to change the ending of the last chapter! It fits a lot better with the story! So, you might want to read the ending of chapter 4!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Everything belongs to the magnificent genius J. K. Rowling

~*~

Chapter Five:

Harry knew by Ron's snores that it was well past the wee hours of the morning. Lying on his back with his arms casually folded behind his head, his thoughts strayed back a few hours. Harry sighed and unconsciously touched his cheek where Hermione had kissed him previously that night…

- Flashback -

Harry had managed to eat his dinner, concentration solely on his chicken to hear anyone talk, or more radically, think. But this resulted in him finishing quickly and having to wait on Ron to finish eating and talking; lucky for Harry, Ron would do both at once.

Hermione ended her conversation with Ginny and turned to Harry.

“Harry, are you alright? You seem a bit distant tonight?” Hermione enquired. “Well he did get a T in Potions today…”

Harry fought the urge to reply to her observation about his potions mark.

“Uh, yea, I'm fine. I, er, just don't fell very well.”

“Oh? The flu is going around, you should go to Madam Pomfrey after dinner for a Pepper-up Potion.”

“And walk around Hogwarts with steaming ears for a week - I think not…” Harry thought. Aloud he said, “Thanks, I'll think about it if I feel worse.”

Hermione smiled knowingly. “Okay, that's code for `thanks, but no thanks'. Honestly boys are like books!”

Harry stared at her. “How is it that girls seem to understand us but when it comes to girls, practically every guy is useless? And does she relate EVERYTHING to BOOKS?” he thought. “The world may never know… Unless…!”

“Hermione, I'll go get some now. I'm finished eating.” Harry told her; half because he wanted to leave the Great Hall and half because he wanted Hermione to think that he had proven her wrong, which of course she hadn't.

While talking with Seamus, Ron saw Harry get up. He quickly shoved another bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth and hurried after him.

“Hey Harry!” Ron yelled as he caught up with him and walking back to the common room. “Hey, you never answered my question.”

“What question?”

“What have you heard already? Are the girls just a dirty minded as the guys in the quidditch locker rooms?”

Harry thought about Ginny and almost laughed aloud. “Well, some of them are.”

Ron looked interested. “Really? Who?

Harry hesitated, “You really don't want to know!”

“Oh come one mate! You're supposed to use this gift of yours for the good of man! Or at least this man!”

Harry actually laughed this time. “Since when have you been such a man?”

“Since I shagged Padma in the broom closet outside the Great Hall last week,” Ron said smugly.

Harry paused, “After you broke up?”

Ron nodded, not looking at Harry and talking with wild hand motions. “She said she really missed me, but I bet she says that to all the guys.”

Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from saying too much.

Ron continued, “Anyways, we're off subject.”

Harry thought fast, “Pansy.”

“Ron frowned, “Wha-?”

“Pansy has a pretty naughty mind - ”

Ron looked slightly disappointed, “Oh, that's old news!”

They had reached the fat lady and stepped inside the Gryffindor common room. They simultaneously sat in their usual armchairs by the fireplace and pulled out their homework.

“Heard anything else?” Ron asked, looking for his Potions book.

“Oh, half of Hogwarts wants to sleep with me,” Harry answered, copying the ingredients for tomorrow's potion.

Ron made a noise that Harry couldn't decipher without looking up from his parchment. Harry saw Ron looking back at him like he didn't really need to know that, but Harry couldn't really tell from Ron's expression.

“Oh. Well that's enlightening,” Ron commented.

“Yup,” Harry agreed, returning to his potions book.

They worked in silence until nearly everyone had gone to their separate dormitories. The portrait swung open and Hermione sat down in the third armchair, also getting out her homework.

“Oh,” she said, looking up from her pile of books. “You started Potions without me.” “That's a first…”

Without looking up, Ron said, “Well we only had to copy from the book. Notice we haven't done McGonagall's 30 inch essay yet.”

After copying the three potion's ingredients and instructions, Ron stood up, stretched, pronounced that all his homework was making him `weary', and went upstairs. By this time, Harry and Hermione were the only ones left in the common room.

Harry laughed to himself and shook his head, reading his transfiguration book.

“Merlin he can be such a prat sometimes!”

Harry laughed again, out loud. “Yea,” he agreed with Hermione.

“Yea what?” Harry heard her ask.

Harry's head snapped up and he panicked. “Oh Christ, quick lie, Harry, quick lie!'

“Uh, yea - so,” he glanced down at the open book in his lap. “ - so have you started the Trans essay?”

“Oh, no I was going to do that next…”

“Oh.” “Smooth, Harry. Real smooth.”

They stared awkwardly for a moment before Hermione gave a small smile and pulled an unfinished wooly house elf hat with knitting needles and blue yarn. Harry watched her charm the needles to knit the hat.

“You've gotten a lot better at that. They're really nice hats.” “You aren't actually still making those to `free' house elves?”

Harry could see a hint of a blush on her cheeks. “Thanks! You want to help? I promised I'd make Dobby two by this weekend.”

Harry shrugged. “Sure, it doesn't look that hard.”

Hermione gave him a broad smile and pulled out another set of needles and more yarn - red this time. “Sorry, but you have to actually know how to knit before you can charm them.”

Hermione tried to show Harry how to hold his needles facing him to no success. She walked around him and stood behind him, leaning over his shoulder. Harry was suddenly very aware of her presence as she touched his shoulder slightly with every breath she took.

“And slip knot around the needle, knit one stitch and purl the next one…”

Harry watched his hands and listened to Hermione's thought-up instructions as Hermione placed his hands and got him started on his first stitch.

By the third attempt, Harry turned to tell Hermione he wasn't so sure he could do this, not knowing how close she really was. His face turned and was millimeters from hers when his brain nearly shut down. Harry's eyes widened slightly and he turned back to face their paused hands, Hermione's slender hands against his own broom-calloused ones.

Harry finally managed to get his words out. “Um, Hermione… I don't think I can do this.”

Harry heard, almost felt, her swallow. She straitened up. “Maybe with more practice?” She took the red yarn and bent over her bag. “Jesus Hermione, what were you thinking?! That would never happen… he's your best friend!”

Harry watched her back as she packed up her books. When she turned around, Harry pretended to be reading, though his eyes weren't moving. She slowly walked over to him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Harry's eyes straightened, looking at the floor.

“Thanks for helping me. Goodnight Harry.”

He gave her a weak smile. As she walked away, Harry listened to her argue with herself.

“Good grief, Hermione! Just tell him how you feel!”

“No way! I couldn't jeopardize our friendship for something that may never happen! Besides, he doesn't think of me like that!”

“How do you know?”

Hermione paused and looked back at Harry very briefly before she disappeared behind the stonewall leading to the rounded staircase, her hand on the frame. Harry noticed her pause and his eyes looked up, his hair almost blocking his view. As soon as he layed eyes on her, she was gone.

Harry eyes didn't move from the entrance to the girls' dormitory. “What the hell? Hermione…? Shit, well that's new!”

But the more Harry thought about it, the more he questioned what was really going on in Hermione's head. The girl argued with herself for God sake! Harry thought, well if she did … have feelings for him, then that made him think about his feelings on the matter, which were … well …

Harry groaned at the empty, quiet room and shut the book that he never actually read in his lap.

~*~

Sorry about changing the last chapter! I'll have the next chapter soon - it's going to be a good one!

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6. Chapter 6

Hey Everyone! Sorry I took so long - loadsa stuff going on right now! I'm nearly done with the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Everything belongs to the magnificent genius J. K. Rowling

~*~

Chapter Six:

At breakfast the next morning, the only thing that had changed was Harry, who was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to hear others. All he could think about was the night before. He still didn't have an answer to his own question from their conversation. He also couldn't bring himself to look Hermione in the face, who ironically was sitting right in front of him.

“Harry, are you alright?” he heard her ask.

He pretended to be very interested in the water goblet in his raised hand. “Yea, fine. Err… how are you?”

“I'm fine,” she said. “And … well … What happened last night? What could have happened last night? Oh, I'm so confused!”

Harry, now starring at his plate, made the mistake of answering back. “Yea, me too.”

“What?”

Harry, without thinking, looked at her, eyes wide. Her well-known face seemed different this morning. Harry didn't linger on the thought; faintly realizing she hadn't said that last bit out loud.

“Yea, I'm fine…er… also.”

Harry's trail of plausible cover-ups ended when a school owl landed in front of him with the daily whoosh of owls bringing mail. The official-looking letter told him his detention with Professor McGonagall would be that afternoon after lunch.

“What's that?” queried Hermione.

“Detention letter,” said Harry, still starring at the note in his hand to keep from looking up - again.

“Oh? When is it for?”

“This afternoon,” responded Harry shortly.

“On a Saturday? That's harsh!”

Harry took his chances and looked at her, but remembering their conversation the previous night, spoken and unspoken, he blushed slightly.

“Yea… I have to go; I'll catch up with you later, okay?”

Hermione smiled slightly and nodded. Harry could feel her watch him as he left the Great Hall.

***

Harry wandered around the castle, seeing no one in particular and thinking about nothing worth remembering. He did pass a couple of giggling 5th years somewhere along the 4th floor corridor. Harry was thankful that they couldn't giggle and think at the same time.

Sitting on a bench in a deserted hallway somewhere on the 5th floor, head in hands. His head was spinning. He and Hermione were friends, best friends, at that. And best friends didn't… couldn't… And to top it all off, he was still hearing damn thoughts!

He heard someone approach him and quickly composed himself.

“Hello Harry,” said a bemused voice. Harry looked up at the blonde girl.

“Hey Luna,” Harry said as Luna Lovegood, possibly the strangest girl in the entire school, sat beside him. Today, her hair was held in a messy bun by a broken quill and she wore her usual necklace of butter beer caps.

“Your aura is pulsing,” she noted.

“What?” said Harry dumbly.

“Your aura is pulsing. Can I interpret it? We just learned about interpreting auras in divination,” she explained dazedly.

“Err… right. And who is your divination teacher?”

“Professor Firenze,” she said in a dreamy tone, looking past Harry.

Harry considered this for a moment. “Okay then,” he answered as Luna took hold of his arm.

She looked over the palm of his hand, the back of his hand, and all up and down his arm thoughtfully. She ran her hand just above his skin, making the hair on his arm stand up.

“Oh goodness! Well… how cute - he's in love!”

Harry's mind went from relaxed back to spinning. What the f-…! In love?! After he processed what she had said to extract any and all possible meanings (he only found one), she stopped and let his arm go. She then turned to study the tapestry across the corridor of them.

Harry nearly lost all patience when she said nothing and tried to think of a way to bring up what she had thought without making her suspicious that he had heard her thinking.

“Well?” Harry pressed, not too politely.

Luna turned to look at him straight in the eye. “Your aura is pulsing,” she said again.

“Yes,” said Harry slowly. “Anything else?”

Luna pondered over his question. “If you look deep in your heart to your greatest desires, you'll find the answer that you've always known subconsciously.” That said, she gracefully stood up and continued on her way. “Boys really are clueless…”

Harry was dumbfounded as he watched her leave. He pulled at his hair slightly as if that would make his head better. Suddenly he was grateful he could hear her thoughts, as he would have never figured out what she meant otherwise.

“Okay,” Harry said aloud. “I'm in love…” Harry shook his head. “I'm in love?” “Now I know why she's called Loony Lovegood!”

***

Harry saw Ron before they entered the common room. Making a quick decision, Harry took a deep breath and told him of his eccentric encounter with Luna before he had time to change his mind. Ron just starred at him the entire time, mouth slightly agape. A few seconds after Harry was finished, Ron blinked, seeming to come out of a trance.

“So,” he said casually, nodding. “You're in love.”

Harry shook his head and laughed, “No, she's crazy!”

“Yeah, maybe… but apparently your aura is pulsing!” Ron joked.

Harry shoved him into the small opening when the portrait swung open.

“So who is it?” Ron said, turning around. “Lavender? Hermione! It's Hermione, isn't it! Oh sweet Merlin, it's Parvati!”

“Shut it, will you?” said Harry, looking around. “I'm not in love!” he hissed as they took their usual seats near the fireplace.

Harry took out his Transfiguration book to quickly revise for his test. Concentrating hard enough, he found that he could just almost block out everything else - everything from the two 5th year girls sitting at a table next him to Ron who looked up after every other word he wrote.

It worked too until Hermione entered the common room, pulled out her homework, and started arguing with Ron about a Potion's essay. This continued until Harry stumbled over his Transfiguration notes, and then he had nothing to concentrate on over their bickering.

“Ron, this essay was set ages ago!” “Do you EVER keep with ANYTHING?!”

“Hermione, all I want to see is your conclusion!”

“Do you mean my conclusion that summarizes the entire essay, which you were supposed to take notes on in class (you were damn asleep), and that happens to be on the same parchment as the rest of my essay? THAT conclusion?!” “Do I look that bloody thick?”

Ron was about to answer, but Harry cleared his throat loudly, causing them both to look at him.

“Thank you,” he said to both of them before turning to Hermione. “Hermione, I think my notes are wrong. Can you take a look at them?”

Hermione gave Ron a short sideways glance, and replied, “Oh of course.” She stood up and sitting on the arm of his chair, she took the parchment from Harry.

“Okay, that's all good… that's spelled wrong… Uh wait… that date is definitely not right!”

Hermione, without looking up, reached out her hand, narrowly missing Harry's face. He stared at her upturned palm and she turned to face him, saying, “Quill please.”

“Uh, right. Here.”

“There, it looks pretty good. Just a few mistakes.”

He smiled at her as a way of thanks. She smiled back.

Harry handed over his quill, feeling utterly stupid. She changed a few lines, then handed his notes and his quill back.

As Hermione returned to her own chair, Ron opened his mouth as if to say something, probably to argue his case further, however futile, but Hermione grabbed her bag and announced she would be in the library till lunch. She looked at Ron and her gaze lingered on Harry before she turned.

Harry watched her leave until the portrait door swung shut. Then he looked back at Ron, who looked at him, then the portrait door where Hermione had just left and back at Harry.

“So,” Ron started. “Are you going to tell me who this mystery girl is or not?”

Harry shook his head; Ron was such a wanker. He considered the question anyway. “Not… Ron - I told you Luna's crazy! And for Merlin's sake - I'm NOT in LOVE!”

His shouting attracted the attention of many fellow Gryffindors, who all looked slightly harassed, yet keen on him to continue. Harry didn't bother listening to their thoughts; the whispers were plain enough.

“I'm not!” he shouted, throwing his arms up. Harry grimaced at the silence following his proclamation. He then gathered his books and left for the secluded dormitories.

Everyone was starring now at Ron, as if he would continue where Harry left off.

“He's in denial,” Ron said, and everybody went back to his or her own lives.

***

Harry was pacing in front of his bed when Ron found him in the 7th year dormitory.

“Harry…”

“Ron, don't start!” Harry stopped pacing to stand in front of Ron. “I'm not in love, and I don't know who the `mystery girl' is!” he said, using his fingers to quote `mystery girl'.

Ron was slightly amused. “Well, if you're not in love…then why is there a `mystery girl'?” he asked, copying Harry's finger quotes.

Harry was not amused. “You're the one that keeps bringing it up!”

Ron's face contorted with a mixture of queasiness and relief, “It's Ginny!”

“RON! Stop!”

Ron threw with hands up in surrender. “Okay, mate. You may not be in love, but there is something on your mind!”

“No Ron, IN my mind. Remember? Your fault I believe!”

Ron nodded, unbothered, “Oh yea… that's right…”

***

Ron left Harry and shortly after he fell asleep. It seemed like seconds later that Harry woke up suddenly as the dormitory door creaked open. Thinking Ron was coming to pester him again, Harry shut his eyes, turned his face away from the door, and steadied his breathing.

“Oh… he's asleep.”

Harry's eyes nearly shot open. What was Hermione doing in his dormitory! He felt the end of his bed sink slightly as she sat on it.

“He looks so peaceful. I guess none of the pressure and anxiety follows you when you sleep. I guess that's good, especially for Harry, what with all the weight on his shoulders.”

Harry felt her shake him slightly, obviously trying to wake him.

“Oh God, he's so cute when he's asleep…”

Harry couldn't help the slight jump that was his reaction.

“Harry,” she said aloud. “Wake-up.”

“No.”

Hermione giggled. “Harry, lunch is nearly over.”

“Oh, right…” he said groggily.

“Harry don't you have a detention now?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

Hermione rubbed his back and shook his shoulder again. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “Get up, lazy. Do I have to curse you?”

“I'm up,” he said, sitting up. He turned around to look at her, her face comforting and her eyes reflecting the torches on the walls so they appeared to be twinkling.

He starred at her and his mind raced. He thought about Hermione, Luna's `aura' reading, Hermione's hand on his, Ron being a prat, Luna was crazy, Hermione…

Harry looked continued to look at her and brought his face forward slightly, moving to put his arm behind her head. His mind went blank and Harry didn't know what came over him; it just felt… right.

Hermione pulled back and stood up, looking nervous.

“Oh gods, Hermione! What's happening!” “Good luck on your test,” Hermione said. “You'll do great.”

She walked out of the dormitory quickly, but not before Harry heard her think, “Hermione, you're such an idiot…”

***

Professor McGonagall was already sitting behind her desk when he arrived. She looked up from a large pile of, what it looked like, their tests; a few of them already marked.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Potter. You have one hour to complete the test, and as always, no talking.”

Harry smiled meekly and sat down at a desk that had a test set out and pulled out a quill from his bag.

He looked at the first question. He smiled, remembering Hermione sitting on his armchair and correcting that particular date. Concentrating as hard as he could, Harry easily finished the first part of his test.

Before he turned the page, he looked up at Professor McGonagall. She was still marking tests and was positively beaming at the current one she was on.

“She must be on Hermione's test,” Harry thought glumly.

Thinking of Hermione, he turned the page and his mind drew a blank, completely forgetting nearly everything on the second part of the test. His mind wandered even as he read the first question. When a brilliant red bird flew past the window, Harry realized he had been starring out of it for… he wasn't sure for how long, but McGonagall was already halfway through marking the next test, this time frowning.

Harry reread the first question. “What is the incantation used to transfigure animals back to their original state?”

Harry almost groaned aloud and his concentration wavered again. He starred at the question, perhaps hoping he could just magic the answer onto the paper.

“Mr Goyle… wrong again… the incantation is `Finite Origious Prospetus'…”

Without looking up, Harry eyebrows raised. That was the answer! Before he changed his mind, he wrote the incantation on the parchment. Gaining the obvious certainty he needed, he managed to finish the test a few minutes before McGonagall asked him to put down his quill.

Harry left the classroom and headed towards the Gryffindor common room, where he hoped he might find Ron and Hermione.

He didn't feel too bad about cheating on one answer. What was he supposed to do - put the wrong answer after he had heard the right one? He decided Ron was to blame. Ron and his stupid something non… something potion!

***

Along the 4th floor corridor, the library door at the end of the hall in front of Harry opened and closed. Harry starred at Hermione, who was unaware of him watching her. She pulled her hair off her neck, which had easily gone from a frizzy bush to sleek curls over the last few years. Pulling off her jumper, she shoved it in her bag and rolled up her sleeves to her elbows.

She smiled at a small 1st year girl and held the library door open for her. Hermione looked up after she watched the 1st year timidly walk into the library and her gaze fell on Harry. It was at that moment that Harry realized Luna had been right.

~*~

Preview to Chapter 7:

Harry's throat went dry. Her reply suddenly made him aware of his situation. He was alone with in a broom closet Hermione Granger. A broom closet that was so small that there was no room to maintain a respectable distance between them and so dark he couldn't see her face to distinguish between spoken words and thoughts. He was in serious trouble…

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7. Chapter 7

Hey everyone! Funny Story – I clicked the save icon on the word document for this chapter after I had added and changed LOADS of stuff… and the computer shut down! Taking with it all of the electricity in the house! Well it wasn’t funny at the time… I clicked and the whole room goes black! Thank God it recovered…

I have exams for the next 4 weeks (no joke), so not sure when I can update again. I do have a week for “revision” in that month… hmmm….

Oh and due to changes in this chapter and because it just didn’t sound right even when I posted it, the preview to this chapter in the previous one changed. No big deal but thought I outa say somethin.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Everything belongs to the magnificent genius J. K. Rowling

~*~

Chapter Seven:

The Brabner brothers were the only twins to have successfully taken Fred and George’s place as Hogwarts’ troublemakers, even though they were only in their 2nd year. They weren’t as creative as the Weasley twins (“Give ‘em a few yers,” was Hagrid’s comment on the matter), but they were even more destructible.

That particular afternoon, the Brabner twins decided to let loose a swarm of Cornish pixies on the 4th floor corridor, just around the corner from the library.

***

Hermione’s gaze fell on Harry. Even from down the corridor, she realized he had been watching her. The thought made her blush, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. His brilliantly green eyes drugged her, pulling her mentally closer to him. As they stood fixed to each other, it was as if the world seeped away, and they were the only two people left in it.

A growing buzz sounded in Hermione’s ear, bringing the world crashing back – she had been in too many similar situations for it not to. She turned to see a small, blue blur zip around the corner towards her. Hermione whipped out her wand, and, with a clever freezing charm, immobilized the pixie. When she realized what was loose in the castle, the faint buzzing had grown to a roar as several of the pixies ahead of the rest shot around the corner. Even from where Harry was standing, he could hear the shrill voices of the pixies and the beating of hundreds of tiny wings.

As a tidal wave of Cornish pixies engulfed the corridor behind Hermione, she turned, alarmed, and ran towards Harry. Thinking fast (not easy with Hermione’s internal curses), he opened random a door to his left and pulled Hermione inside after him, escaping the pandemonium in the corridor outside.

Harry held Hermione in a protective embrace. The sounds of glass breaking and books being ripped apart could be heard over the pixies through the door.

The chaos slowly died as the Cornish pixies moved on to find more things to destroy. The only sounds noticeable to Harry now were his and Hermione’s quiet, but fast breathing… and Hermione’s internal threats to the Brabner twins.

Harry opened his eyes that he hadn’t remembered keeping tightly shut. But opening them hardly made a difference: he and Hermione had run into a cramped, dark broom closet.

“Harry?”

Harry swallowed, conscious of the fact that he was still holding her (like he had a choice with the closet being so small). “Yea?”

“Do you think they’ve all gone?”

“Sounds like it.”

“…Oh, but that doesn’t mean we have to go…yet…”

Harry’s throat went dry. Her reply suddenly made him aware of his situation. He was alone with in a broom closet Hermione Granger. A broom closet that was so small that there was no room to maintain a respectable distance between them and so dark he couldn’t see her face to distinguish between spoken words and thoughts. He was in serious trouble.

Harry panicked. He decided just not to respond to anything she said as his hand groped for the door handle. The quicker he got out of there, the less chances of him doing something stupid… well, doing anything for that matter.

“No…why…”

Harry’s hand paused on the handle. Had she said that out loud?

“Er… Hermione, the door’s locked,” he said.

“Hmmm, really? … Oh, stop it, Hermione! Just do it, he doesn’t want to be in here with you anymore than you do… Oh bloody hell, who am I kidding?”

“Alohamora!” she pronounced clearly and a small glow lightly the closed briefly, reflecting their faces – Harry’s looking surprised and Hermione’s bashful.

Harry was surprised; then again he wasn’t sure if she was right. His hand, still resting on the cold handle, twisted and found it turned easily in his grasp. Before he pushed the heavy door open, he stopped himself. He realized that she was indeed wrong. He did want to be with her and, considering his options; he’d probably never get this chance again. Pretending to fumble with the handle, he told her it was still locked.

“Let me try,” she said, reaching out her hand, only to have Harry’s hand grab it. Hermione gasped and Harry closed the space between them.

“Do you really want to go?” he asked softly.

Hermione’s breathing was shaky and her hand was trembling slightly. Despite this, she ran her free hand up his chest to his shoulder and explored his neck and jaw line. Harry brought the hand he was holding to place it with the other behind his head. His own arms snaked around her lower back.

Her thoughts, whenever interjected in long streams of “oh-my-god”, exclaimed over her thanking the gods for quidditch for his well-defined muscle tone.

“I’ll take that as a no,” laughed Harry, not quite recognizing his own husky voice.

“Oh my GOD…this is not happening! I’m trapped in a broom closet with Harry! What’s going to happen now? What if we do something that might..”

Harry, not taking those to be spoken ramblings, thought she sounded scared. Maybe a bit anxious. Trying to reassure her, he ran his hands up her arms until they held her shoulders.

“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered. “I could never hurt you. And we don’t… we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Kiss me, Harry…”

Harry didn’t know whether or not she said it for him to hear, but he didn’t care. He hands continued their path until he cupped her face, bringing his lips down to hers.

Her thoughts were so jumbled up, Harry couldn’t make sense of them. He deepened the kiss as his hands slid down her back, pressing her against himself, and reached the hem on her untucked blouse.

Harry slowly pushed his tongue into her mouth. He felt, rather than heard, her moan when she parted her lips. His hands slid up her back, this time under her blouse. Harry had never in his life touched skin so soft. But then again, he had nothing to compare it to.

Hermione’s fingers, which had been tangled in his hair last he remembered, unbuttoned his shirt. She pushed it back, pinning his arms behind him. Rolling his shoulders, the shirt fell off him. Hermione immediately grabbed behind his neck, pulling him closer.

Their now more frantic kissing unwavering, Harry moved to unbutton her blouse, but she stiffened slightly and broke the kiss, gasping.

“Oh God, what am I doing! … Oh stop it Hermione! That was the most mind blowing, erotic kiss … Gees, when did I turn so cliché? Oh this can’t be happening… I can’t let this happen! … Oh never mind, yes I can! … But …”

Harry stopped and moved his hands, deciding on a different tactic. He kissed a chain of open-mouthed kisses on the side of her neck traveling down. Her hands traced over his back muscles and Harry shuddered under her light touch.

Her movements abruptly stopped and she stiffened. Harry’s clouded, preoccupied mind couldn’t pick up on anything she was thinking. It stopped too fast for him.

“I’m sorry,” Harry felt her whisper in his ear.

He pulled back slightly. He could hardly bring himself to talk he was so caught up in the moment. “Why?” he managed to utter.

Hermione’s breathing was unsteady. She ran her hands through her hair and pulled nervously at it. “Damn it his voice is too sexy to say no! Good God, Hermione! I can’t believe your going to deny this!” With effort, Harry stopped himself from laughing. Even so, he couldn’t hold back a grin. “But no! This can’t be happening!” Harry’s grin vanished.

“I stopped you, and – ”

Harry sighed, and instantly hoped she hadn’t heard him. Whatever was going to happen in that moment was lost. He slowly, but surely returned to reality and sensibility.

“No.” he murmured, kissing her forehead. “No, Hermione, if you’re not ready for anything, we can wait. I won’t hurt you,” Harry repeated softly, but firmly.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized again, reaching for the handle.

Harry groaned inwardly, grabbing for his discarded shirt.

The door opened slightly and light entered the closet, as Harry pulled on his shirt, hair disheveled and glasses askew. Hermione starred at the door ajar.

“Harry, the door’s not locked,” she said surprised, almost disbelieving. She looked at him and her attention was naturally directed below his bowed head to his open shirt baring his hard chest muscles. She looked away, blushing furiously.

“I know,” he admitted, buttoning his shirt and straightening his collar. He was being so indifferent; Hermione couldn’t read his emotions like she usually could.

Harry looked up at her flushed face, and she really did look regretful. She also couldn’t bring herself to look at him and looked at the stone floor instead.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated and was gone.

The door’s hinges slowly closed until Harry was left alone in darkness. He groaned again and slid down the wall to the floor, head on his knees and hands over his head.

***

Harry’s homework had started to pile up. He and Ron spent the afternoon alone in the library – just about the only two people crazy enough to do this on a Saturday. Harry tried to concentrate on his studies, he really did, but to no avail. No matter what he read, he seemed to relate it to Hermione, however bizarrely.

Harry was looking at his potions book, but he wasn’t reading. Harry jolted back from his daydreaming, comprehended what happened, then shut his potions book in shock. His trail of thought had just taken a mad turn from essence of stink sap to the fruity smell of Hermione’s hair. He really had to get a grip on himself.

He pulled his Care of Magical Creatures book towards himself and opened it. He rested his head in his propped up palm and read: “Unlike the common muskrat, the Muskeet’s long, brown hair … wonder if its curly … and red lips…” Harry closed the book slowly – he was thinking of a different pair of red lips.

Ron glanced up from his own books skeptically. “Harry, er, not that I’m counting or anything, but that’s the fourth book you’ve only read one sentence in.”

Harry’s head slowly raised and he looked at him miserably.

“What?” said Ron stupidly.

Harry was so tired and out of it he replied, “I can’t get her out of my head.”

A funny look spread across Ron’s face: half shocked, half mildly interested. He sat up. “What’s this? You’ve got your mind on a girl?”

“Uh, n-no… No,” Harry stammered.

Ron didn’t look convinced. Harry decided this conversation had gone far enough and tried to steer it elsewhere.

“Actually,” Harry glanced around; making sure no one could eavesdrop. “Lots of girls.”

Ron’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Your bloody potion! Remember?!”

“Oh, that.” Ron cleared his throat. “About that… I think that we’re going to have to tell Hermione about it – it’s the only way to find a cure.”

Harry choked. “Have you gone mad? I can’t tell Hermione!”

Forget waltzing up to her and proclaiming that he could hear her every thought, he felt queasy just thinking about seeing her. “Ron, you can’t just tell a girl you can hear her thoughts – its suicide. Especially when –” Harry paled. “You haven’t told her, have you?”

Ron starred. “No.”

“And you haven’t looked for a cure either?”

Ron shrugged, “Your problem.”

Harry gave a dry laugh – he couldn’t believe he was hearing this. “My problem? Ron – my problem?! Are you fucking kidding me? You’re the one who got me into this!”

“Okay! Fine, I guess I can help you look for a cure – ”

“Without telling Hermione!” Harry interjected, sitting back in his chair, crossing his arms, and narrowing his eyes.

“– Without telling Hermione, and –”

“And you can start with that book you stole. Where is it?”

“Er, Seamus still has it… I think … I could go get it if you want.”

Harry’s dead look plainly said he wanted him to.

“Okay… I’ll just go get… yea, see ya.”

Ron slid out of his chair and left to find Seamus. Harry sat up and his upper body collapsed. His head hit the table and new pain mingled with his already throbbing headache. What was this girl doing to him? Half the time he thought with his head – which was both rational and wanted her. And at other times, he thought with… well, his other head – which clearly only had one, very defiant opinion.

Harry groaned as he lifted his head off the wooden table. He looked at his books. He really should finish his homework.

***

About three History of Magic chapters and two essays later, Ron returned sneaking the stolen potions book out from under his robes. If Harry weren’t feeling as dead as he was, he would have laughed. Ron was acting like he had some top-secret mission to carry out – and was doing so quite dramatically. Glancing at Madam Pince, Ron carefully opened the book and turned the pages.

“Okay, it’s here,” leaning towards Harry, he whispered. “The Persona non Grata potion is designed for men to hear women’s thoughts by concentrating on a woman to better understand the opposite sex …” Ron shook his head, “Whoever wrote that was a complete idiot.”

Harry was growing impatient, “Yea, okay, but you already told me that bit.”

Ron looked back at the bottom of the page from where he was reading, frowning. “That’s all that’s written.”

Harry suppressed a snide comment and simply said, “Turn the page then, Ron.”

“They’re stuck together, Harry.” Ron remarked with equal scorn.

Harry grabbed the book and ripped the pages apart. Glancing at Ron, who looked slightly harassed, he read aloud quietly, more to himself than Ron.

“The drinker must come to realization with the woman in confusion. Only then will the potions have done its effect to the drinker.”

Ron, who was leaning in to hear Harry, said, “Bloody Hell – was this written in the 1500’s? What the fuck does that mean?”

Harry thought about it, but didn’t answer. ‘The woman in confusion…’ There was only one woman who ever confused him and sent him mixed signals – Hermione. Every other girl appeared to have set attitudes, but Hermione didn’t seem to ever make up her mind about Harry. What did he have to do? ‘Come to realization with the woman in confusion…’ Did he have to make Hermione believe him about his feelings, using her thoughts? Was he supposed to realize his own feelings? Or perhaps help her come to terms with hers?

Either way, Harry made up his mind. He had to see Hermione again. Alone.

8. Chapter 8

NB: Just because it fits better with this story, Harry isn’t Headboy, Draco Malfoy is… sorry! But I totally think that Harry will be headboy, its just this storyline is better with him not.

***And for some reason, the italics are all screwed up when I uploaded the chapter, so the thoughts are in BOLD!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Everything belongs to the magnificent genius J. K. Rowling

~*~

Chapter Eight:

Ron watched Harry pack up his books with mild interest. He decided to let him go – he obviously had a lot on his mind… Ron paused and laughed slightly at his pun.

He lazily pulled the open potions book that Harry had left towards him and reread what Harry had already read aloud. It still didn’t make sense to him. Ron stared at a picture of a man obviously being driven mad by the effects of the potion he had given Harry.

Ron shuddered and looked at the next page. After a brief moment of reading the first few lines, he was greatly startled. He hurriedly looked to see if Harry was still in the library. When he didn’t see him, he thought it was for the better – no way Harry would drink something else he gave him… Ron paused… with knowledge of it.

***

Harry sighed quietly under his invisibility cloak and checked the Marauder’s Map again. Mrs. Norris and Filch had already been pass – neither of whom a student out of bed after hours wanted to meet.

Hermione was nowhere to be found that day. No one had seen her and no matter where he looked, Harry couldn’t find her. He knew she had her Headgirl duties that night, which was why he was sitting at the base of the stairs leading up to the astronomy tower waiting on her.

Harry watched the small dot labeled ‘Hermione’ slowly make it’s way towards his. When she was just around the corner down the corridor, Harry stood up, hugging the cloak to him so it wouldn’t fly open. Harry got out his wand to clear the map, but he fumbled with the cloak and dropped it. It rolled loudly in the silent corridor towards Hermione’s growing wand-provided light. Harry’s wand rolled to a stop right in front of Hermione.

“Just my luck,” Hermione grumbled, picking up the wand. “Someone thought they’d come to the astronomy tower tonight to fool around. It’s a wonder Draco wasn’t assigned this job – he’d have to give himself a detention every time he did rounds.”

Hermione, now at the bottom of the stairs, was just to the left of Harry. She peered up the dark staircase and looked reluctant to continue, Harry thought, but she slowly ascended the stairs. Harry followed her and pulled of his cloak when they were both inside the round room of the tower.

“Hermione?”

She jumped and spun round, dropping Harry’s wand. Harry picked it up as it rolled towards him.

“Thanks,” he said, gesturing his wand before he pocketed it.

“Harry! That was your wand?” Hermione exasperated. “What are you doing out of bed!” “And in the astronomy tower…”

“I – er – wanted… needed to talk to you. I couldn’t find you anywhere today.”

Hermione looked slightly upset. She glanced around the tower, as if she was expecting someone else to be waiting in the shadows for her to leave.

“Harry… Hmm, great cover up… wonder who he came up here with.”

“What? No! I didn’t…” Harry protested. Hermione’s eyes widened. Harry mentally kicked himself and thought quickly.

“No, I… er… didn’t… want to talk to you today.” Harry nodded. Hermione eyes relaxed but her eyebrows remained raised. “No, I wanted to wait until tonight. I knew I’d meet you here on your rounds.”

“Oh Lord… he planned this! He planned this! After he said we could wait, he meets me in the bloody astronomy tower!”

“Oh really? You did?” said Hermione in a high voice. She totally didn’t look convinced. She crossed her arms. “So… who’d you come up here with, Harry?”

Harry laughed dryly. “No, it’s not like that! I came up here to talk to you. I couldn’t find you today and I – ”

“Harry, no one comes up to the astronomy tower past hours alone,” she retorted, putting particular emphasis on ‘alone’. “Especially not someone with a body like that…”

Harry stared at her, forcing himself not to react to her last comment. He closed his eyes momentarily and breathed deeply. He walked towards her and lowered her wand to get the light out of his face.

“I’m not alone now,” he whispered and bent forward to capture her in a kiss. Hermione gave in and kissed him back.

Hermione’s shirt was halfway unbuttoned and Harry’s was halfway off when Hermione abruptly pushed him away. Harry stuttered his protest; until he saw her petrified face was looking at the bottom of the stairs. A long cat’s tail was visibly swishing in the air climbing the stairs. Harry hurriedly pulled on the invisibility cloak just as Filch appeared to an out-of-breath Hermione, who was trying to compose herself.

“Miss Granger?” said Filch, actually surprised. He looked around the tower. “I thought I heard… voices up here.”

Hermione cleared her throat. “No, it’s just me. I was just doing my rounds. No one is up here, I’ve already checked.”

Filch eyed her suspiciously before he gave a grunt and a nod of acknowledgement to Hermione and called to Mrs. Norris, whom Harry hadn’t noticed was sitting just beside him. She looked in his direction and reluctantly followed her master down the steps.

Harry waited a few minutes after they had left to be positive they were both gone before he pulled of the cloak, slightly ruffled and very agitated.

“Harry, you need to go back to Gryffindor Tower.” Hermione tried her best to sound professional, but she wasn’t looking at him. She hadn’t moved since Filch had left; her eyes remained fixed as if still replaying the disappearing images of Filch and Mrs. Norris down the dark stairwell over in her mind, contemplating what could have happened if they had been caught. “It’s past hours and you’ll get detention if someone finds you.” “And I could lose my badge if someone finds us…”

“No, I still need to talk to you about – ”

Hermione turned to face him, her professional facade gone. “No, it can wait until tommorrow, Harry. I’m sorry. I really need to finish my rounds and you really need to go back to bed.”

Harry gave in, but he fixed his eyes on her with a hard stare. “Fine,” he said as he disappeared under the cloak. It wasn’t as if he was actually going back to bed. He didn’t move, in fact. He was going to catch Hermione again. He really needed to talk to her! Harry waited, but Hermione didn’t move either.

She crossed her arms and looked around nervously. She shivered slightly in the cold breeze. “I hate it when he does that. Now how do I know if he’s gone back to bed? … Yea, like you really wanted him to! … Oh shut up, Hermione, you did what you had to do!”

She sighed and slowly descended the stairs. Harry watched from a dark corner and waited for her to disappear before he got out the Marauder’s Map again. Hermione had left the tower and was now making her way through the corridors. Harry folded the map and followed her.

***

At about the same time in a different part of the castle, Ron had taken advantage of Harry’s disappearance. Checking that has bed curtains were securely closed, he pulled out the still stolen potions book from under his sheets. He scanned the ingredients list… nothing too difficult. Nodding, he noted the amount of time he had from now till the Halloween Ball… just enough time…

***

Harry had taken a few short cuts around the castle, so that he was now ahead of Hermione on her rounds. He was concealed around a corner, waiting for her to pass him. He could hear her footsteps; his eyes unfocussed as he concentrated on counting them, calculating when she’d pass him.

At just the last second, Harry hesitated on stepping out. He sighed and turned to face the corridor, to face Draco Malfoy strutting haughtily past him. Harry blinked, utterly shocked. Looking down at the map, Hermione was still behind him, though she was catching up to Malfoy.

Harry shook his head and, after clearing it, put the map away. He leaned back against the cold, stone wall and looked up. He watched Hermione pass him and advance on Malfoy.

Hermione paused. “Malfoy? Your rounds are downstairs.”

Malfoy stopped walking and slowly pivoted on his heels, hands in his pockets.

“Yes,” he drawled. “But I felt you might like some… company tonight, Granger.”

“You thought wrong…”

“After all, it is rather chilly tonight.”

“Oh with you here, it is…”

“Besides… there’s no one here, so there’s no reason to do rounds. No one…”. Malfoy slowly walked towards her, but Hermione retained her dignity and remained fixed.

“You perverted prat…” “If you don’t want to lose your badge, you aught to do your rounds. Downstairs.” “How you ever became Headboy is beside me…”

“Yes… deny it if you will…”

“Mmm, I do…”

Malfoy threw her his trademark smirk before he turned and glided down the corridor and disappeared in the darkness. Harry turned to look at Hermione. Her arms were folded again. She looked around the corridor before she slowly started again. Harry followed her.

“He is such a prat! Is it just sex with, like, every guy in this school?”

Harry frowned.

“Well, of course Malfoy is like that…Draco Malfoy…whatever, but Harry?”

The said Harry stopped dead in his tracks, dumbfounded. Hermione stopped walking as well.

“It’s not like him to go to the Astronomy Tower at night… it’s also not like him to pull girls into broom closets either…what if he only wants sex as well?”

Harry had to consciously will himself from shouting out. Why was it that all girls thought that of all guys like that? Harry fumed, but at the same time felt a strong desire to prove her wrong. She was wrong!

Hermione started walking and Harry fell into step with her. Hermione stopped abruptly, her mind strangely blank. Her arm casually fell to her side and she whipped around.

“Alright,” she said loudly, pulling out her wand. “Show yourself. I’m Headgirl and if you’re a ghost, you know the rules about being invisible at night, and if you’re a student, you should know the rules about being out of your dormitory after hours.”

Harry smiled. She had that speech down pat. He shrugged, letting the invisibility cloak drop.

“Harry!” Hermione gasped. “WHAT are you doing?”

“Now’s the time, Harry”, he thought. “Prove her wrong…”

“I – er –” Harry scratched his head. “I… uh… I wanted to, um…” “Good going, mate… you showed her…” “I still need to talk to you.”

Hermione looked exasperated. “Fine, Harry, what is it?”

He smiled and walked nearer and walked nearer. “You know… the Halloween Ball is coming up…”

Hermione grinned, but tried to hide it. “Oh my gosh…he’s so cute!”

Harry’s confidence went up – this was so much easier than having to try and catch her on her own during the day, surrounded by flocks of giggling girls.

“Wait a minute Hermione!” “Harry, this can’t wait until tomorrow?” Hermione said and checked her watch.

“Well, no… See, we’re alone now, and, er, alone is easier for me…” Harry said sheepishly.

Hermione snorted. “Oh, bravo, great line, Harry…” “What’s easier?”

“To ask you to the ball.” He grinned hopefully at her.

Hermione was squealing inside and it was all Harry had to do not to laugh. Squealing turned to screaming, and Harry starred over her shoulder at a picture of an ugly hag hovering over a smoking cauldron to compose himself.

“Um… sure. I’d love to.” “See, Hermione, Harry’s not like that…”

They smiled at each other, nodding slightly.

“Great,” Harry said. “Awkward pause…”

Hermione looked at her watch again. “Oh, Harry, you really need to go,” she pleaded.

“Alright…” he said, reaching for the invisibility cloak.

“And really go this time,” she laughed, pushing him playfully.

“Alight, alright! I’m gone!”

And he was gone. He turned to see Hermione walk off around a corner. He grinned. He had proven her wrong! He stopped in his tracks… the realization of the Halloween Ball and the fact that he was still hearing her thoughts rushed into his head. What the hell had he just gotten himself into? Better yet, how the hell was he going to get out of it?

9. Chapter 9

NB: *posts chapter* … *runs away from angry people*

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Everything belongs to the magnificent genius J. K. Rowling

~*~

Chapter Nine:

Harry starred moodily into his porridge the next morning. Down the table, Hermione was whispering animatedly with a giggling Lavender and Parvati, which involved lots of excessive arm movements. Harry couldn't even bring himself to look at them. Ron was nowhere to be seen, and had Harry's mind not been too preoccupied with Hermione, the Hufflepuff's problems at the next table, and the previous night, he would have noticed.

Harry relived the previous night in his head and suppressed a groan. Was this the best way to get rid of his problem? To take Hermione to the ball, when he can hear her every thought? It would absolutely drive him mad trying to ignore her thoughts and concentrate on what she actually said, without acting apprehensive or paranoid. So many things could go wrong. Besides, he didn't even know what the potion's book meant or if this was going to solve it, so why go through with it?

Harry peered down the table at Hermione and she paused, cheeks tinted pink, to smile at him. That's why.

*****

Many floors above the Great Hall, Ron sat hunkered over a cauldron. He was positive he had found the antidote to Harry's… problem. But the old potions book was very hard to decipher and he was pretty sure Harry wouldn't follow his harebrained logic anyway; Ron himself could only follow it once. But his friend was in need and Ron had a plan. He'd just have to slip it to Harry without him knowing. And the Halloween Ball was the perfect setting.

*****

Harry sat by himself in the back of the history of magic classroom, leaning backwards with his arms crossed over his chest, as Professor Binns droned on about troll wars… or dragon wars… or a leprechaun revolution, Harry wasn't really paying any attention. Ron, who normally sat with him as far away from Binns as possible, wasn't in class. In fact, if Harry had thought more about Ron, he would have noticed that he hadn't seen him since the previous night. But Harry wasn't thinking about Ron, he was thinking about Hermione.

This year, Hermione had chosen to sit away from Harry and Ron so she could take notes in peace without having to shield her parchment when a hangman dramatically died, ink going everywhere. Harry starred at her. Every time Binns would pause of shuffle his notes, Hermione would whisper with Parvati. Probably about the upcoming ball, Harry mused, as Parvati was in charge of it. Every so often, she would glance back at Harry; luckily, slowly, so Harry had time to pretend that Binns had, yet again, put him to sleep.

In between these glances, Harry watched how the sunlight streamed in from the window and reflected off her hair in different shades of golden brown. How a small strand would cover her face when she bent over her parchment. How when she wasn't writing, she would lightly tap the end of her quill on the desk, looking up at Binns and listening to him and Parvati both.

She gave an unexpected giggle from something Parvati said and quickly turned to look at Harry, who had no warning and was caught starring back at her. Hermione winked slightly at him and went back to writing her notes from the monotone that most students couldn't even decipher as words.

After class, Hermione slowly put her books away as Harry was also taking his time about leaving. As Harry lazily walked to the door, Hermione fell into step beside him, reciting rune translations in her head.

She paused to ask, “Have a nice nap?”

He gave a roguish smile, “Yeah.”

“Oh right, as if you were actually sleeping! Does he know I know he was starring at me the entire lesson?”

Harry rubbed his forehead. He was getting such a headache. This had to stop.

“Uh,” Harry fished his brain for an excuse. “I'm going to go find Ron, we have a free lesson together. See you after Ancient Runes?”

She smiled and nodded, and backed away in the opposite direction. Harry watched her leave, giving her a small, guilty smile as she turned around the corner. He gave a sigh and went off to the common room, where he and Ron always did homework together during their free lessons. Or at least, where they went during their free lessons.

*****

Harry sat in the common room, writing an extensive essay for Snape. Snape was such an ass to set an essay due the day of the Halloween Ball. And of course Harry had waited until the last minute to write it. That's all everyone was talking about these days, Harry mused. Even Harry sometimes caught himself thinking about him and Hermione at the ball together. Harry glanced at the clock; he still had a few hours before he would have to dig his dress robes out of his trunk. Harry wondered what Hermione's dress would look like tonight.

Harry caught himself mid thought. No, there was no way he could go through with this. Hearing Hermione's every thought was NO way to spend an entire night, especially at the Halloween Ball. In fact, hearing any girl's thoughts at the ball didn't sound like it would go down too well. He would just have to fake sick! Yeah, that's it, fake sick and… and hurt Hermione. Harry mentally groaned and agreed that he couldn't do that either.

Harry shut his potions book in frustration. What the hell was he going to do? Harry sighed, and ran his hand though his black hair, making it more unruly than it already was. Harry looked over at Ron's chair to… Harry could have kicked himself. He had been so caught up on getting his potions essay done, that he forgot about finding Ron. Harry had promised him that they'd do their essays together.

Come to think of it, Harry realized that he hadn't seen Ron in over a few days now. Harry's brow rose in bafflement. The rest of his body followed.

“If I were a teenage boy living at Hogwarts and had disappeared,” Harry thought. “Where would I be…?”

Harry almost laughed. He WAS a teenage boy, he DID live at Hogwarts, and he knew where HE'D be if he had to disappear. But Harry shrugged off the thought; this was no time to think about Hermione.

Harry starred at his nearly finished potions essay. He thought that he better finish it and hand it in to Snape… Snape, that was it! A brilliant idea flashed its way into Harry's head. And it totally wouldn't be his fault! Harry checked his watch, remembered it was broken, and opted instead on finding the time from the huge clock in the common room. Harry, calculating that he still had a few hours left, ran out of the common room.

*****

Ron smiled to himself as the last ingredient to his concoction was added. After exploding in flames, it sat in front of Ron, smoking. Ron stared at it. He knew that potions wasn't exactly his forte, but so what? It wasn't like he was going to kill Harry, was it? Ron caught himself. He frowned at the potion, and decided to ignore that last thought of his, pouring the potion into a large hip flask. After the screwed on the lid, he held it up proudly. The flask suddenly puffed out a bit, as from a mini explosion. Ron shook his head and pocketed it anyway.

*****

Harry stopped running as the sight of Professor Snape's office door loomed ahead. Constantly running into nooks and broom closets to avoid the Hogwarts female population was tiring. He leaned against the wall in support as he caught his breath. Harry looked up, and his eyes roamed over the intricate swirls around the door's frame, almost…snake-like. He shuddered, remembering the last time he was approaching the demonic door.

It was last year, and he had just, successfully mind you, turned Draco Malfoy's precious eagle owl into a pigeon after an “accidental” (to quote Malfoy) attack on Hedwig. Despite the twenty-odd witnesses in Harry's defense, Snape still had managed to argue the `no magic in the corridors… especially by Mr. Potter' rule, and had given Harry a month of detention, which included expulsion from a quidditch game. Harry smiled, remembering Snape's fury when Griffindor won the cup anyway, beating Slytherin for the 6th year in a row. Soon to be 7th, Harry mused.

The door in front of him crashed open and Snape stormed out of his office. Harry stopped, still smiling stupidly, in his tracks. Snape paused in his rampage when he saw Harry.

“Ah… Mr. Potter,” he sneered. “Come to turn in your essay, or is there an actual reason as to why you are smiling outside my office?” Snape seemed to have to force out the word `smiling', as if it weren't an actual word.

Harry didn't need to consciously stop smiling; he had forgotten to bring his essay! Harry's head was in turmoil; Snape would surely give him detention. But then Harry caught himself. He could have laughed, he had forgotten why he was standing in front of Snape in the first place, to receive detention for that night. And Harry reconsidered his situation, and figured that this way was much easier than what he had planned on doing.

Harry forced a scared, timid look and crossed his arms behind his back. “Err…sir… I forgot to do my essay.”

Snape didn't look surprised. His mouth took a slight upwards turn in a very crooked smirk. “Well, Mr. Potter, then I guess I forgot that the Halloween Ball was tonight. I'll see you in detention at… oh, about 8 o'clock.”

Before he could catch himself, Harry panicked, “But the ball starts at 6!”

Snape looked taken aback. He frowned at Harry, and Harry could feel his head throb slightly, as if he was being probed by an outward force. “Oh yes, that's right. We better make it 6 then.”

Still frowning, Snape continued on his way, his oversized robes billowing behind him.

Harry stared at the door in front of him, and felt something of regret. He knew that there was no way he could go to the ball. That was just asking for a can of worms. But still, he felt that he had somehow done the wrong thing.

*****

Preview to Chapter 10:

Harry glanced disgustedly at Hermione just to see her lean closer to her date. Harry's eyes widened and he jumped up to stop her. His head spun and his vision blurred from standing up to quickly, or was it the drink, Harry didn't know. But his vision didn't really focus back. Harry closed his eyes and swayed slightly. He looked up and squinted to try and see Hermione. The last thing Harry saw before he blacked out was the Ravenclaw kissing Hermione on the dance floor.

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