A Sure Thing

Title: A Sure Thing (1/2)

Disclaimer: They still belong to the illustrious JKR. Yes, yes.

A/N: And here’s another fic I posted So Very Long Ago on my LJ, though I did attempt to clean it up a little since then. Written for Victoria Tonks, who requested a Cho-fic. Rather fluffy.

Two months, Hermione reflected. It took two months of their sixth year for Cho Chang to make her move.

She’d cornered Harry on his way into the Great Hall for breakfast. And though Harry hadn’t spoken of his old crush in months, it was apparent that Cho held his full attention. Cho Chang was still a pretty girl.

Arm touch. Swing of her hair. The giggle. Arm touch again.

Hermione wasn’t sure what disgusted her more, Cho’s oh-so-obvious attempts at flirting or Harry thriving on the attention.

Cho touched Harry’s arm again and he went red. No doubt, he was probably beginning to stammer.

The entire encounter lasted no more than ten minutes.

Ten minutes and Hermione was certain that Harry’s three-year crush on Cho had been re-awakened. Hermione sighed, vaguely wondering why she tortured herself by examining them so closely. If Harry placed looks above brains and personality then there was little Hermione could do about it.

Oh, she supposed that Cho was a nice enough girl.

A nice enough girl who probably only liked Harry because of his name. As far as Hermione was concerned, Harry was neither a trophy nor a prize. He wasn’t an ornament to be dangled from Cho’s arm. Harry deserved someone that could see past the fame, someone who wouldn’t spend all her time blubbering all over him.

Someone like his best friend.

Hermione quickly pushed the thought from her mind. There was no use for her to indulge in self-pity.

When Harry sat down across from her, blushing and smiling slightly, Hermione set her resolve.

She’d done this last year—she could do it again.

So she smiled pleasantly at him, bid him good-morning, and prepared to be what Harry needed her to be.

His best friend.

***

“Hermione! Hey, Hermione, wait up!”

Hermione slowed her pace, fighting annoyance. She was already running late for Transfiguration.

Cho jogged to catch up to her.

“Hey,” she said breathlessly. “You’re a fast walker. I saw you at the end of the corridor. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to catch you in time.”

“Well, I’m running late.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Cho said. “Here, I’ll walk you to class. I was hoping we’d have a chance to talk.”

“Fine,” Hermione said. She waited a moment for Cho to get her breath back before continuing on.

“I was just—”

“No,” Hermione interrupted.

Cho glanced over. “Pardon?”

Hermione sighed. “No, Harry doesn’t feel that way about me. No, you don’t have to worry we’re more than friends. That’s what you wanted to ask, wasn’t it?”

A faint blush spread across Cho’s cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine,” Hermione said shortly.

Never let it be said that Hermione Granger wasn’t a good friend.

“What about you?” Cho asked. “Do you, er… fancy Harry?”

“What difference does that make?” Hermione said, irritated by the question.

“Look,” Cho said. “I’m just trying to do the right thing. Yeah, I fancy Harry, but I get that you guys have a very close relationship. You’re the most important girl in his life and that’s hard for someone like me to understand. I don’t have any close male friends. I just want to make sure that I’m not chasing after something that’s never going to happen. Harry puts a lot of faith into your opinion.”

Hermione stopped and turned to look her in the eyes.

“If you’re asking me if I’d ever stand in the way of Harry finding happiness with someone, then the answer is still no.”

Cho looked taken aback. “Oh. Er… thank you, I guess.”

“You’re welcome.”

Adjusting the strap of her bag, Hermione continued on to Transfiguration.

Hermione Granger was a good friend.

***

No one knew Harry like Hermione did.

Especially not Cho.

Cho saw what she wanted to see—the scar, the bravery, the fame.

Hermione knew Harry, the boy. She knew the boy who had nightmares and grieved for his godfather. She knew he had an awful temper and tended to take her for granted. She knew that he was kind—one of the kindest people she’d ever met.

She knew that, ultimately, Harry would do anything for her.

Hermione could see where Cho’s fears stemmed from. Hermione’s opinion did mean a lot to Harry.

But she’d meant what she said.

If Cho made Harry happy, then Hermione wouldn’t stand in the way.

Which was why, when Harry sat down in the armchair opposite hers, Hermione slid her homework out of the way and turned to face him.

“You want to talk about Cho,” she said bluntly.

Harry looked relieved that she’d been the one to bring it up. “Yeah. I reckon that would be a good idea.”

Hermione smiled and put herself into ‘best friend’ mode. She was determined to be what Harry needed her to be.

Even if that meant locking up her own feelings.

“Well, she certainly fancies you.”

“I s’pose.”

Hermione studied him, chewing her lower lip in concentration. He’d barely given her any reaction and that surprised her.

“I know you two went through a rough patch last year, but things might be different this time around. Maybe… maybe she’s finally moved past Cedric.”

“Yeah,” Harry said vaguely.

Hermione frowned. “So… how about you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, Harry, you. Do you still fancy her?”

Harry stared very hard at the floor. “That’s just it,” he mumbled. “I dunno.”

Hermione’s heart was beating very fast.

She was a good friend.

She wouldn’t allow herself to influence him.

“Well… she’s… she’s very pretty.”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “But the world has loads of other pretty girls that don’t act like a human hosepipe, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, but—”

“And, anyway, that’s not even it. I don’t think it’s fair to anyone, honestly. If I had… if I had a girlfriend, it’d be a danger to them, you know?” Harry paused, deep in concentration. “Someone like Cho, she has no idea what she’d be getting into with me. It’s not fair. Who would ever be able to handle what the prophecy said? Who’d ever be willing to be tied to someone that has to fight Voldemort?”

“Oh, Harry…”

“It’s alright,” he said. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this. I can count on one hand the number of people who can separate me from the name on that prophecy.” He gave an ironic smile. “And I don’t s’pose Ron would be much interested in dating me.”

Hermione laughed.

“Or not,” Harry said, grinning. “Of course, there’s always…” he trailed off, looking at her in a very peculiar way.

Like he’d never seen her before.

Hermione bit her lip. She’d seen that look before. In fourth-year, right before the Yule Bawl.

When Ron discovered she was a girl.

“No, Harry,” she said, voice quivering. “Don’t look at me that way.”

He flushed. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know what I’m talking about,” she whispered. “And I refuse to be a last resort. Not for Ron, not even for you.”

“A last resort? Hermione, what are you going on about?”

She looked away. “I couldn’t handle it if you felt you had to settle for me, merely because you thought it wouldn’t be fair to another girl.”

“I… hang on,” Harry said. “That’s hardly fair. What, is it completely ridiculous to think that I might actually have feelings for you?”

“Well… yes,” Hermione said, barely aware that the words had tumbled from her mouth.

Instead of being taken aback, Harry’s mouth narrowed in determination. He leaned closer to her.

“Look,” he said. “All I know is that you’re there all the time. I hear your voice in my head. I worry about what you think of me. I have dreams about…” Harry trailed off and blushed. “Err… I’m just—I just think that—that Cho might have had a point last year. No one can ever replace you, Hermione. It’d be stupid to even try. And—and,” Harry’s voice turned more urgent. “Last year, in the Department of Mysteries… I couldn’t even think after Dolohov put that curse on you. I panicked… I don’t think—I don’t think I could tolerate it if I lost you.”

Harry swallowed, eyes a little desperate. “So you see, I’m not settling for you at all. You’re already—you’re already there. I just… never realized it.”

Looking drained after his confession, Harry slumped in the armchair, face pleading as he stared at her.

Hermione felt very warm. Her tongue was heavy and she could only seem to stare back at him. Harry, her best friend, Harry, whose eyes had never seemed quite that eager and hopeful before.

The fire gave a little snap, causing both of them to jump.

Something in Hermione’s mind fell into place.

If Harry found happiness with someone, she wouldn’t stand in the way.

Hermione Granger was a good friend.

“Harry,” she whispered. “I think it would be a good idea for you to ask me to Hogsmeade.”

“I… okay.” Harry grinned. “Err… will you go to­—”

“Yes!”

Harry stared. “You didn’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Oh, hush,” she said, laughing. “I said ‘yes,’ didn’t I?”

Harry frowned. “I s’pose I have to talk to Cho now.”

“Yes,” Hermione said sternly. “And don’t ignore her, either. It’s awful to be rejected.”

“I don’t reckon she’ll much like it when she finds out about us, either.”

“No, probably not,” Hermione said.

Harry shrugged. “It never would have lasted it, anyway. She never really… understood me. And, honestly? I never really understood her, either. I don’t think we knew each other very well.”

“I know,” Hermione said.

“Well, you could’ve said something!” Harry said irritably. “It would have saved me a lot of trouble.”

Hermione smiled indulgently.

“I’m a good friend, Harry.”

Falling (Sequel to A Sure Thing)

***

Harry bounced nervously on the balls of his feet and glanced down at his watch. Two minutes. Two minutes until the seventh-year Transfiguration door would burst open.

Hermione had insisted he talk to Cho sooner rather than later (“it’s best not to put these things off, you know”) and that he’d better be alone when he did so.

When the bell rang, Harry gave a start of surprise. Two minutes seemed to have gone by awfully quickly. The door opened, and seventh-years trickled out, barely noticing his presence as he shifted uncomfortably.

Cho was in the middle of the pack and her eyes lit up when she saw him. She disentangled herself from her girlfriends before going over to greet him.

“Hi!” she said, grinning.

“Hi,” Harry said, stomach clenching in dread.

“Waiting for me?”

“Erm… yeah, actually. I was hoping we could talk.”

“Great!” Cho said. “You can walk me to lunch.”

“Okay,” Harry said weakly.

Other students stared at them in interest as they passed and Harry flushed, feeling self-conscious.

“So,” he said. “Hogsmeade weekend coming up.”

“Yes!”

Harry’s head snapped around to look at her.

“Erm… what?”

“Yes, I’d love to go with you. That’s what you wanted to ask me, wasn’t it?”

Harry felt like smacking himself. Of all the stupid ways to start this conversation…

“No, that wasn’t it, actually,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Cho. I’m—I’m going with someone else.”

There was a moment of silence and when Harry snuck a glance at her, she was red in the face.

“Oh,” she said blankly. “You’re going with someone else.”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I am. Err… I’m really, really sorry.”

“No, it’s—it’s fine,” she said—in what sounded like a horribly strangled voice. “We weren’t… I mean, you didn’t owe me anything.”

“Yeah… but… Cho, hold on.”

She stopped to face him, face still bright red.

“I know what this feels like, so I’m sorry. But you should know, I fancied you for almost three years.” Harry shrugged. “Thought that make you feel better.”

“Make me feel better?” she echoed. “What? That you fancied me when you didn’t even know me?”

“No,” Harry said hastily. “I just don’t reckon that we’re suited for one another, that’s all.”

She stared at him with narrowed eyes. “It’s Hermione, isn’t it?”

Harry blushed. “Cho…”

“No,” she snapped. “Don’t bother. I’m not stupid—she’s the only other girl you ever hang around with.”

“I’m sorry, Cho. I didn’t… I didn’t know I felt this way about her.”

Cho snorted. “I can’t believe her,” she said. “I cannot believe her.”

“Don’t bring her into this,” Harry said quietly. “This isn’t about Hermione.”

“I think it’s always been about Hermione.”

“We don’t work,” Harry gritted out. “We tried. We tried last year and it made us both miserable. So do not make this about Hermione.”

Cho stared at him for a very long time. “Fine,” she said coldly. “Fine. I’ll see you later.”

Harry watched her walk away before slowly following her retreating back to the Great Hall. He was surprised at how little it bothered him to watch her walk out of his life—this girl that he’d fancied for years.

Then again, his thoughts seemed to be completely consumed by Hermione lately.

He’d been noticing things about her in the past few days he’d never noticed before. The way her face screwed up in concentration when she thought. The way she’d stare with undivided attention on her parchment when she was writing. The way she played with her hair when she was listening to a particularly boring lecture.

He found himself concentrating more on the scent of her hair than class. He was obsessed with the tiny crinkle—not quite a dimple—the left side of her mouth formed when she smiled. He felt a jolt of pleasure every time her eyes lit him up when saw him.

He was hyper aware of every movement—every touch. Her leg brushing his when they sat next to each other, her hand on his shoulder when she greeted him, the way their hands would just barely brush when they walked.

She was driving him mad.

He was falling behind in class because he spent more time watching her and thinking of her than paying attention. He wanted so badly to kiss her, touch her, be with her—and was terrified of what that would mean.

He could watch Cho walk out of his life and not care.

But he couldn’t bear the idea of losing Hermione.

So he was terrified because if he kissed her he’d change things between them forever. And one day, she might turn around and walk away from him and that… that he wasn’t certain he could handle.

***

So far, their day had been no different than any other in Hogsmeade.

They went to Honeydukes for candy, they visited Fred and George (“c’mon, Harry, just try the white pill—you’ll love it, we promise”) and they were meeting Ron and Luna (something happened between them over the summer—no one was quite sure what, but whatever it was had, at least, helped Ron over his crush on Hermione) later at the Three Broomsticks.

It wasn’t awkward—for which Harry was very much relieved. But he couldn’t help but feel as though he was merely walking around Hogsmeade with his best friend.

They stopped outside Madam Puddifoot’s and looked questioningly at each other. The last thing Harry wanted to do was go in—the place held far too many unpleasant memories for him.

Hermione must have seen the look on his face. “We don’t have to go in,” she said, sounding reluctant. “Not if you don’t want. I understand.”

Harry sighed. “If you want to….”

“Well, I suppose I’m a little curious. Lavender and Pavarti go on about it all the time… but it’s not where we are that’s important, is it? It’s being together.”

“Right,” he said, getting a pleasant little jolt. “Then, let’s go in. I don’t mind.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, opening the door for her.

She ducked inside and Harry followed her. The place was much as Harry remembered it, only with fewer Valentine’s Day decorations. It had a sickly sweet smell. Glitter was spread out on the tables, flowers were growing along the walls. Candles flickered at all the tables and the lights were dimmed. Each table seemed to be occupied by a couple busy snogging.

Hermione snorted quite loudly, causing many people to stop what they were doing and stare at them. Harry flushed in embarrassed. Hermione appeared not to notice.

“Well, honestly,” she muttered. “It smells like that awful perfume Ron bought me for Christmas last year.”

They sat down at one of the circular tables and Hermione stared disdainfully at the glitter on the table. “Ridiculous,” she said under her breath.

“I think it’s supposed to be decorative.”

Hermione sniffed. “Hardly. It’s completely frivolous.” Suddenly, her eyes grew bright. “You know, I bet you she uses house-elves to do this for her! That’s awful, isn’t it? Forcing house-elves to do all these decorations!”

Still mumbling to herself, Hermione opened her menu and started giggling.

“What now?” Harry asked.

“Have you seen the descriptions?” she said, still laughing. “Honestly… look at this one, crinkled rose—sure to bring you closer to that special someone. Who would believe such rubbish?”

People were openly glaring at them now.

“Er… Hermione, maybe you shouldn’t… say those things… in here.”

“Oh, for goodness sakes,” she snapped. “I’ll say whatever I want. I’m in a public place, aren’t I? Besides—if everyone feels comfortable enough shoving their tongues down each other’s throats, I feel comfortable enough commenting on the treatment of house-elves! Crinkled rose, indeed!”

He stared. “You wanted to come in here.”

She sighed and set down her menu. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right. No wonder this was so awful for you last year.”

“We can go, if you want,” Harry said, half-dreading that she was about to start handing out S.P.E.W. badges.

“Oh, we probably should,” Hermione said. “I don’t think we’re going to be served, anyway.”

Harry glanced at the counter, where Madam Puddifoot was staring at them with open hostility.

Harry couldn’t help but smile. “I dunno. Might be fun to hang around a bit. See how long it takes before you get us kicked out.”

“Me?” she said, looking insulted. “I haven’t done anything!”

“C’mon,” he said, grinning. “Let’s go to the Three Broomsticks.”

When they left Madam Puddifoot’s, they were both laughing.

“This has been fun, hasn’t it?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, it has,” Harry said. “Even if you made me go into Madam Puddifoot’s.”

“Oh, it was horrid,” she said. “I should have known to stay away….” She shook her head. “Taking advice from Lavender and Pavarti, honestly.”

“Why did you?”

“Because I’m a girl, Harry,” she said, as if it was painfully obvious. “And it’s a silly thing to want to do… but it’s almost as if it’s a right of passage, going to Madam Puddifoot’s with… with a boy that you fancy.”

“But you’re not like other girls,” Harry blurted, before he could stop himself.

“I know,” she said crossly. “I’m responsible and smart and my two best friends are boys—so it’s completely ridiculous to think that I’d ever want to try something that other girls do.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Harry said. “You know I didn’t. I don’t want you to be like other girls, Hermione. I don’t want to be with other girls. I want—I want to be with you.”

She stopped to look at him. “Oh, Harry…” she said. “Thank you.”

He took a deep breath, plunging on before he lost his nerve. “Hermione… what if… what if we—what if this doesn’t work? I don’t want—I don’t want to mess up what we have.”

What he really wanted to do was ask if she’d ever leave him—if being with him would be too much for her. If one day she’d wake up and realize that he wasn’t worth the trouble or that Voldemort was too large a threat to handle.

“Impossible,” she said. She looked him in the eyes. “Nothing could ever truly separate us, Harry. I promise you that. Even if what we have here… even if it doesn’t work out, it’s not the end. Not for us.”

He felt desperate, like he was standing on the edge of a cliff and all he had to do was take the fall and that would be it. But there was no way to see the bottom—and it terrified him.

“Hermione…”

“I won’t leave you,” she said. “You can’t just erase five years of friendship, Harry. Especially not ours.”

Something in Harry’s head was screaming at him to take it—fall and it would all be all right in the end.

“No matter what happens?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I don’t know what else to tell you—how else to make you believe. You must trust me, Harry. What we have here, it’s the strongest thing we’ve got. Please trust that.”

His heart was pounding very loudly as he took a step closer to her. He’d forgotten they were in Hogsmeade. He’d forgotten that there were people around him. She looked breathless and her face was flushed with the cold. His fingers brushed her cheeks and their eyes met.

Trust her. Believe her.

And Harry kissed her.

The End