H/G, H/L, & H/C - Oh My!

Dear Reader,

This short little odd one-shot is literally based off of a very odd dream I had the other night when I was worrying about whether or not HMS Harmony will sail. After the dream, which wasn't exactly as detailed and whatnot as this ficlet, I realized that of course it will sail, whether it be in Half-Blood Prince or in book seven, or just forever in our Harmonian hearts…it will sail. Any and all reviews are always appreciated on my part. Thank you!

Sincerely,

Ink.Slinger

* H/G, H/L, & H/C - Oh My! *

“Can you two please lower your voices?” Hermione asked irritably, looking up from her many books and parchments, and at Harry and Ron.

“If we're talking too loud,” Ron said simply, shrugging, “Go somewhere else.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she glared at Ron, shooting daggers at him with this glare. He was so rude sometimes, a lot of times actually. But she didn't reply, only simply nodded her head as she tried to continue with her long Transfiguration essay.

Ron looked over at Harry for some help, but Harry wasn't paying too much attention. His mind instead was set upon something that took up much more thought. And it was obvious he was thinking hard about something; his quill was hanging loosely between his fingers as his emerald eyes stared blankly out the window.

“Hello? Earth to Harry!” Ron said, waving a hand in front of Harry's eyes. “What's up with everyone tonight? She's breathing fire; you're quieter than a mute!”

“Huh?” Harry stuttered, “What?”

“Oh, I know what it is,” Ron said with a little grin, “I know what you're thinking about. So, who is she?”

“What?”

“The girl on your mind, who is she?” Ron explained simply, shrugging as Hermione stopped writing and looked up from her homework.

“There isn't one…”

“Oh, get off it! So who is she, mate? Is she pretty? Haha, or is she gorgeous?” Ron asked nosily, forgetting all about Potions and Charms and every other subject he was taking; Hermione rolled her eyes.

Harry blushed a little. The fact of the matter was, he wasn't thinking of a certain girl, he was just thinking about girls as a whole. After his brief relationship with Cho he had found himself doing this frequently, just wondering about who would possibly be better suited for him than Cho; but he couldn't come up with a single answer.

“Leave him alone,” Hermione told Ron. She was obviously annoyed. “You're acting stupid again, Ron, stop being so shallow. If Harry is thinking about a girl, so what? And why do you always insist upon asking whether or not she's attractive before whether or not she has a brain, or whether or not a decent personality? Why do you always think of looks first?”

Ron blinked as his mouth dropped open indignantly. “I - err- well, um - you see…”

“That's what I sincerely thought, Ron,” Hermione snapped crossly, her eyes dropping back down to her essay.

Ron looked sulky that Hermione had yet again won their argument. He returned back to his homework in grumpy silence.

“Err, I think I'm going to head up to bed tonight,” Harry said as he stood, and began collecting his books off the table and stuffing it into his book bag.

“Night,” he said to Ron; Ron grunted. He looked over at Hermione, who was scribbling furiously on her parchment. “Good night,” he told her.

“Oh. Good night, Harry,” Hermione said to him in return, looking up at him.

Harry headed up the staircase and into his dormitory. He changed quickly from his uniform to his pajamas, and collapsed onto his bed. Almost immediately he fell off into a slumber, and unsurprisingly his dreams mirrored the thoughts of what was last on his mind…

“Harry, Harry,” said a familiar voice, sounding as if this person was whispering it right into his ear.

There he was standing right outside of a very familiar-looking café, people walking around him as if he were really standing here - wait, was he? He certainly saw himself, saw Harry Potter standing just outside a café while people - no, not just run-of-the-mill people, Hogwarts students passed right by him, some actually eyeing him. Yes, they could see him, so that only had to mean he was standing here.

“What are you waiting for?” asked this voice, and it occurred to Harry that this voice sounded just like Hermione's.

“What?” Harry said confusedly, looking this way and that for her, but she wasn't there. Then, he realized she was just a voice speaking his thoughts - just like she was the voice of his conscience.

“She's waiting for you, go on, go inside,” she said, “Go inside Madam Puddifoot's, Cho is inside waiting. It's your first date with her all over again. Remember what to say. This could go all right you know if you do what I told you…”

“Do what you told me when?” Harry said more confused by the second. He sighed as he couldn't help the curiosity building within him. He pulled open the café door and entered. Yes, this definitely was Madam Puddifoot's on Valentine's Day. It looked exactly as it had last year with the many golden cherubs that were hovering over each table, still randomly throwing pink confetti at customers, and everything else around the tiny café very much pink and unpleasantly frilly.

There she was, Cho Chang, sitting at the exact same table as she and Harry had last year, wearing the exact same outfit she had, her sleek and shiny black hair pulled back in a long ponytail at the back of her head. She looked up at Harry as he dropped down into the seat across from her.

“There you are,” Cho said with relief just as Madam Puddifoot herself approached.

“What can I get you, m'dears?” she asked just like she had last year.

“Two coffees, please,” was Cho's voice.

That awkwardness that Harry was feeling last year had made its return, and Harry felt very nervous as Roger Davis and his girlfriend, and many other couples at that, snogged. Harry remembered again of what Hermione had said: this really could be different this time around and it gave Harry a beacon of hope.

“So,” Cho said, obviously searching for a topic, but Harry knew which topic she'd choose. “I was just thinking of the look on Umbridge's face if she ever knew about the DA and what we're doing.”

“Oh, I know, I could just see the expression on that toad's face,” Harry replied. He desperately tried to sound cooler this time and keep away all the stutters from his voice.

Cho giggled.

And just like last time the topic of Umbridge carried them away from that momentary awkwardness, but soon the subject died, and they fell quiet. Cho was starting to look a tad bit bored, and Harry knew of how he could fix this.

“Erm.” That's all that came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You know - erm - you know what's really annoying?”

“What?” Cho asked, her eyes lighting up with interest.

“Guess who asked me to meet them today at the Three Broomsticks?” he asked with a little bit of a humorous chuckle; Cho's eyes widened with even more interest as she indeed asked him who. Harry, who thought he was being brilliant, was doing just what Hermione had advised him to do before, about a year ago.

“Hermione Granger,” he said and he forced his voice to sound as if the whole thing was funny to him.

Cho really did seem to enjoy that. She smiled, and said interestedly, “Really?”

“Yeah, she did. I think its - erm,” Harry said and he paused there. He was having difficulty saying this about her. He stared straight into Cho's almond-shaped eyes before continuing. “I think it's really annoying, don't - um - don't you?”

“Of course,” Cho answered at once, “Hermione Granger, and I'm not saying this to be rude about your friend or anything, is way out of line with you, Harry. She acts as if you two are together or something. And I'm telling you, she's really quite silly for thinking so. Who does she think she is, anyway?”

Wow, Cho really did grasp at a chance to bash Hermione. Harry watched Cho as she spoke so badly of his best female friend Hermione Granger. Something suddenly occurred to him, and this sudden thing that occurred to him was very important.

Cho wasn't very nice, especially to someone that was obviously one of the most important people in Harry's life. As he watched her bash Hermione, he realized that Cho had no right to insult his friend. She was an idiot for doing so. No, he was the idiot for going out with her in the first place.

She was pretty and she liked Quidditch, but that was about it. There was nothing else between them. Nothing else at all. He had begun fancying her because he had thought she looked pretty, and because she had smiled at him politely, but now he knew she wasn't polite. She was a jerk, a crying and jealous jerk. If he had to pretend to despise one of his friends just to make Cho happen, then he simply could not be with her. End of discussion, Harry realized.

“I have to go,” he said suddenly to her, and then he stood.

She just gaped up at him. “Excuse me? Where are you going, to meet Hermione Granger, aren't you?”

Harry didn't know the answer to that, but he simply pushed open the café door, all too eager to get as far away from this girl as possible. But just when he had thought he'd enter the streets of Hogsmeade again, he discovered with a surprising jolt that he was in the Gryffindor common room.

“That didn't go too well,” said Hermione's voice, and she sounded disappointed in him. “You know specifically what you were to do! Now you've blown it with Cho, Harry, for good I'm afraid. But I think there's someone better suited for you…”

“What?” Harry asked, forgetting again that no one else could hear her voice but him. “What are you talking about, `someone better suited for me'? Err, can you answer me?”

“Who are you talking to?” came the sudden voice of Ginny Weasley. She had several books in her hands as she walked past Harry and sat down in one of the comfy armchairs near the fire; Harry found himself following suit and sitting down right next to her. It was almost as if he couldn't control following her.

“All right,” Hermione said to him, “This obviously is Ginny. I think you and her are a better match than you with Cho. You have something very important to tell her - I think you can guess what that is…just don't screw this up, remember. Ginny worshiped you for years; this shouldn't be too hard to convince her of how you feel now, even if it is kind of sudden and completely out of nowhere. Go on, tell her!”

“Harry, Harry,” Ginny was saying once Hermione finished her instructions, and Harry snapped back to the present of this dream, and looked over at Ginny. She was staring at him strangely. “I asked you three times,” Ginny said, “When's the next Quidditch practice?”

Harry remembered now. Of course! How could he be so dim? Ginny was chaser on the Gryffindor team, and she was pretty good at that. This wasn't too odd, it certainly wouldn't be as nerve-wrecking as Cho; with Cho he had always feared making a fool of himself, but with Ginny he didn't. It was just Ginny, Ron's little sister, piece of cake.

“Oh, erm, it's Thursday,” he replied, looking over at her. He had never really looked at her before. Okay, yes he had, but not like this. He was noticing that she was indeed pretty; she had her trademark Weasley fire-colored hair, and big brown eyes, which at the moment were pleasantly bright from the firelight. Her skin looked soft and it was specked with little freckles all over, but not too many to make it overly noticeable or weird. Uh huh, pretty indeed. But he wondered how he could have spent so many years in so many different occasions with her so nearby and not notice a single attractive feature about her looks before. He obviously never paid any attention.

“That's what I thought,” she said as she returned to her homework.

“Hello!? Harry, can you get along here? Tell her already for Merlin's sake!” said that ever-so logical voice of Hermione Granger. “We haven't all the time in the world, you know…”

“Ginny,” Harry said abruptly, “I need to tell you something.”

Ginny looked up from her homework. “Yeah?”

“I - erm,” Harry stuttered. He found this so hard to say; even if he had been spending a bit more time with Ginny over the summer and now with Quidditch practices that didn't change that he hardly knew the girl. And yet here he was being convinced that he liked her, when he really couldn't think of a single reason himself.

“Harry, yeah?” Ginny said.

“I fancy you, Ginny,” he blurted; Ginny blinked, then laughed a little.

“What?” she asked, hardly daring to believe her ears.

“I - um - err - fancy you,” he stuttered, feeling like such an idiot.

“Harry, you can't fancy me,” Ginny said slowly, setting aside her books and staring at him seriously. “It's all right, no hard feelings for before, really. I've gotten over it.”

“Over what?”

“My hero-crush on you,” Ginny remarked simply, “I thought you knew. Isn't it obvious? Harry, I've moved on. I'm dating Dean Thomas. We've been together for months!”

“But - But - But.” He realized now he was really an idiot, no doubt, no question, no speculation about it. He was a complete and total idiot.

“Tell her,” whispered Hermione's voice suddenly, “Tell her that you thought she still fancied you, that she was just concealing her true feelings, that she was only dating Dean Thomas as a cover until you noticed her, which you have - don't forget to add that bit in or else she might be slightly put off.”

“I've noticed you,” Harry said stupidly.

“No, not like that!” Hermione exclaimed with aggravation.

“You - you - what?” Ginny asked bemusedly.

“I noticed you, before I didn't when you openly fancied me. But now that I do, we can try going out.” Harry just seemed to be going from bad to worse.

”You've noticed me when before you didn't, so now you want to date me?” Ginny said repeating it all with a vague expression.

“Yes.”

“You've got some nerve!” she snarled, standing, “You've got some nerve, Harry, to think that I would shape my life around yours! Like I'd date someone and then when you `notice me' dump him, completely forget about him, and go with you? Ha! That's ridiculous! What kind of a girl do you think I am, Harry? I got over my hero-crush on you long ago, it's over, it never even began…”

“But, Ginny,” Harry said, trying to somehow fix this.

“Do you even know anything about me?” Ginny asked him, “We've barely even spent time together, spent time alone. You've spent more time alone with that dictionary over there than you have with me! And - And I'm sorry to say, but I only liked you for your status…it was stupid of me, but I really never liked you for you. Sorry, Harry.”

“What?” Harry yelped. Oh, he was so utterly confused.

“You heard me! Like I'd really wait forever!” Ginny shouted her cheeks red with anger.

“Well, this ship has sunk,” Hermione sighed exasperatedly.

“I think I should get going. Bye, Harry, I'll...I'll see you later.” And off walked Ginny Weasley, leaving Harry in flabbergasted silence.

“Okay, right, that didn't work out so well,” admitted Hermione, “But you're not taking my advice. That probably could have worked out all right, Harry. I have one more good idea. She's perfect for you.”

“Stop doing this!” Harry snarled furiously, “I don't want you setting me up anymore!”

“You two do have some things in common,” Hermione continued as if he had said nothing, “Yes, definitely. We'll try that.”

“Um, no we won't!” Harry said defiantly and he stood and turned to the Portrait Hole. He stomped off towards it, determined to get away from whatever plan she had up her sleeve - or imaginary sleeve…whatever you wanted to put it.

As soon as Harry crawled out through the Portrait Hole he found himself face-to-face with none other than Luna Lovegood.

“Luna,” he said as he realized this was the next setup.

He looked around them to discover they were in the library. And it was quite packed. Everyone was sitting at the round library tables together as they did their homework, sometimes muttering in whispers to their friends. But Luna wasn't sitting with anyone. She was sitting all alone, and she was the only one in the whole library that was.

Harry, feeling immensely sorry for her, sat down at her table.

“Hello!” she said cheerfully, her orb-like eyes looking up from the book she was reading.

“Hi,” Harry said. He was waiting for Hermione's advice, and sure enough it came…

“Okay, well, I suggest trying to talk about something you can bond over…talk about the death bond you two have. That'll get you going. And, please I'm begging you, do not do anything that will ruin this!” she warned.

“Whatever brings you to my neck of the woods?” Luna said strangely, smiling widely but showing no teeth.

Harry blinked slowly. This one was going to be an odd experience. He thought, granted he didn't know if it were his imagination or not, but he thought he heard some snickers from tables near by - snickers on Luna or rather Loony's behalf. They were laughing at her, making jokes about her they thought were funny.

Harry knew Luna could hear it too, but she didn't seem to let it bother her.

“Just ignore it,” she said, apparently watching Harry very closely with her intense eyes. “It isn't as if I haven't heard it before, you know, but father always says that a person's opinion of you means as much as lint on your sweater. It isn't a very big deal, not to us.”

“Uh huh,” Harry agreed, but he still felt so sorry for her. He couldn't shake this feeling, and as he decided to go ahead and move onto the whole “death bond” thing he realized something very important.

“It would never work,” he said in a whisper, “We can't create a whole meaningful and lasting relationship about the fact that we've both dealt with death.”

“Excuse me, Harry? What were you saying? I was just thinking about the next time the Kapoodut will come out of hibernation. It happens in two days!”

Harry stood up. He was indeed very sorry to do this, but he knew already it wasn't going to work out. He smiled apologetically at Luna before he turned and headed toward the library door.

“Why on earth did you do that?” Hermione asked in shock as he entered the hallway.

“Because,” Harry answered back, not caring anymore if he looked crazy for talking to a voice of a friend that no one else could hear or see themselves. “I already figured out it'd never work between Luna and me.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Hermione sounded skeptical.

“Yes, it is so,” he answered a little rudely, “In fact, I should have realized that none of those relationships would work. Cho, she's much too sensitive about her own feelings and not sensitive enough about the feelings of others, especially about my feelings when she insults people near to me. And I couldn't be with her when she insults people that mean a lot to me.”

“Really?” Hermione asked in interest, almost with a hint in her voice as if she already knew this.

“Yes. And Ginny - I should have seen that. I don't know anything about her, really. I can't just fall in love with a girl I've hardly ever really spoken to in the past five years! It can't just happen like that. So what if we bonded a bit over the summer and over Quidditch Practices? That's nothing compared to the countless hours I've bonded with other people. And…and she's well over me, she's made that perfectly clear, so she was right. Why exactly would she be wiling to shape her life around my ability to `notice her' or not? That's just…ridiculous. And it'd be selfish of me to expect her to.”

“Interesting,” Hermione said, “But why can't you have a relationship with Luna?”

“Because,” Harry said, realizing everything was so clear now, “Because trying to use the death's of people we knew as a way of bonding with her, that's not romance. Not to me, not for me. I wouldn't want to become someone's romantic interest because their mum died. No, no. And more importantly, I feel sorry for her, that's all. She's my friend, yeah, but I feel sorry for her. I pity her. That's all. I - I would never love someone because I pity them. That's all wrong on my part.”

“Wow, you've become very perceptive,” Hermione concluded, still with a hint of knowing in her voice. “So then what do you want? There's still other possibilities, too. Parvati? Susan? Maybe someone you've never really talked to before…”

“No, no, no!” Harry said. “I don't know any of them, and I don't want to get to know them just for the sake of having a relationship with one of them. They're all wrong, all horribly wrong.”

“Then who's right?”

This was indeed a hard answer. He thought and thought, letting his emotions tell him just exactly what he wanted. He didn't want Cho; she was much too sensitive, much too needy, and very unkind. He had only really fancied her in the first place because she was pretty and she had smiled at him. He didn't want Ginny; he knew that was all too clear. She was over him (if you called it that - she never really liked him in the first place), and he didn't expect her to change that just for him. He sure didn't want Luna; he felt his love interest wouldn't be pitied by him like they weren't equals. Instead he would value her and her qualities, like her compassion and her intelligence, and her bravery and loyalty.

That's what he wanted in someone, and he didn't want to get to know a new girl to see if she was like this; because as he thought more and more about it, everything began to click into place as he realized that what he wanted, he had spent the past five and a half years learning all these things, appreciating all these things, loving all these things about one girl and one girl only.

“You,” he said in a quiet voice. “I want you, Hermione. I love you.”

The morning sunshine woke him as its rays came down right on his face. He squinted at the time and saw that he was going to be late if he didn't hurry. He stood from his bed, stretching and yawning as he slowly began to remember that strangely detailed dream from last night, and it all came back to him, hitting him unbelievably hard as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

“Hermione,” he said to himself, “It's Hermione. Over the past five and a half years, I've been in love with her. I just - I just never realized I was. How could I have missed it before?”

Yes, how was that possible, to be in love with someone subconsciously? Apparently, it was, because as Harry dressed quickly he realized all of the moments, all of the times in which he should have realized how much Hermione meant to him, how much she was always there for him and how much she did for him, had gone completely unnoticed and unrealized consciously, until that dream…

He left his dormitory and hurried all the way down to the Great Hall, finding himself quite eager to see the face of the girl he was in love with!

“Harry,” said Ron as Harry approached, “I thought you were going to miss breakfast. You kept muttering nonsense in your sleep. What was that all about?”

“Did you have an important dream?” Hermione asked instantly, looking up at him, most likely assuming the dream would have something to do with Voldemort or any of his Death Eaters.

Harry almost grinned as he sat down across from her. Yes, it was an important dream, but an importantly amazing dream. He just didn't know how he could tell her - or at least thank her for all she had done for him, and that `all she had done for him' bit was a lot. She had done so many things, helped him out so many times, stuck by him always whenever everyone else doubted him, that Harry sincerely felt as if he were blinded before for not noticing all this.

“Yes,” he admitted finally, “But it wasn't a bad dream.”

“It wasn't?” Ron said suddenly interested, grinning wickedly, “What was it about then, eh, mate?”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Was it about a girl?” Ron asked.

“Yes, you can say that,” Harry replied in a very pleasant voice.

“Who, who, who?” Ron sounded like a bloody owl.

“Someone,” Harry said mysteriously as he took a muffin from a platter, just as Hermione did, and their hands brushed gently against each other. He simply grinned at her, causing her to blush faintly.

Ron looked from Harry to Hermione. “Wait, what am I missing here?” he said in befuddlement.

“Thanks,” Harry said to Hermione, and Ron looked even more confused.

“For what, Harry?” Hermione asked; now she was also confused.

Harry grinned some more; he really did like this feeling, this feeling of love. He wished he had discovered this subconscious love a lot sooner…

“For everything,” he remarked simply before biting into his muffin; Ron's eyes widened as he looked like a fish out of water.

Hermione smiled too right back at Harry. He got the feeling she knew what he was talking about, because she nodded.

“You're welcome,” was her reply, and the hero knew he'd never go this long without saying thank you again.

* The End *

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