Harry gripped his pencil tightly and desperately tried to listen to Lupin's lesson, but his eyes couldn't help drifting over to the girl on his left.
Ever since Harry admitted to himself that Luna might possibly, possibly, have something of a point, he couldn't help noticing what presence his best female friend had.
Hermione was just the type of person that one couldn't help standing out. She was truly in her element in the classroom. Her eyes sparkled with such enthusiasm when she volunteered to answer a question and her nose would crinkle in such a fascinating way when she was momentarily stumped.
And it went without saying that all the bouncing she was doing in her excitement was playing havoc with his blood pressure.
"Harry?"
Harry nearly jumped out of his seat. "Yes, professor?"
Lupin gave him a look of deep amusement. "Since you find Miss Granger to be of greater interest than me, I'm sure you won't mind being partnered with her." The older man continued his walk down the row.
Harry could feel his ears turn red and he knew the rest of his face was the same way. It was times like these that reminded him that Lupin was once a Marauder.
Hermione stared at Harry curiously. "What was that about?"
"I have no idea." Harry changed the subject. "So I guess we'll be dueling today."
Hermione gave him another look. "Dueling? Weren't you listening, Harry? We're doing muggle self-defense today."
Before Harry could reply, the desks started moving, so the two teenagers got out of the way.
Moments later, after the desks were cleared out of the way, Harry stood across from Hermione on the conjured mat. He silently cursed Lupin for putting him in this position.
He didn't want to hurt Hermione. He didn't mind dueling with her, but whenever muggle self-defense day came around he always made sure to partner up with Ron or one of the other guys. Unlike in the Muggle world, there was no holding back even in practice. Well, he'd just have to be careful not to hurt her.
Harry lunged forward with a quick punch, which Hermione dodged. When Hermione jumped out of the way, her chest shifted with her and because his eyes were tracking that swaying movement, Harry missed seeing the roundhouse kick that slammed into his ribs.
Harry fell to his knees with a grunt.
Hermione's hands flew to her mouth in horror. "Harry! I'm so sorry. I thought you'd block that."
"No problem, I can take it." Harry wheezed, getting to his feet. "Just underestimated you, that's all. That won't happen again."
Hermione looked flattered at this.
Harry took a deep breath. Eyes above neck level, he told himself.
Moments later, he was knocked off his feet by a backfist to the side of his head.
Hermione stared down at him with her hands on her hips. "What are you doing? You're supposed to keep your eyes on my center!"
"I'd rather not," Harry managed to gasp.
"No, she's quite right," Lupin said, taking his eyes off Ron and Neville. "In battle the eyes tell what your opponent is thinking; her center tells which way she is going."
"She's not the only thing that's going," Harry muttered. He tried to keep his eyes directly on Hermione's navel, but he could still see cups, straps, and the things that went in them.
Curse his excellent peripheral vision!
Desperate to avoid another hit, Harry grabbed Hermione in a bear hug and tried to ignore the fact that from his perspective he was holding a struggling, nearly naked girl.
He couldn't help noticing that from his vantage point that he could look down directly into Hermione's cleavage.
He was barely able to shift out of the way when Hermione tried to elbow him in the stomach.
They're just breasts, damn it! Harry thought to himself in disgust. He shouldn't let them distract him.
But they were such nice breasts...
It was on that very thought that Hermione broke his hold and flipped him over her shoulder.
She sure got over her hesitance to hit him rather quickly, he thought sourly from his position on the ground watching Hermione come at him.
Once an opponent is on the ground, don't let him get up. That was one of the first lessons they'd ever learned.
"Harry, I won't have you going easy on me," Hermione complained while trying to stomp on him with her feet.
Harry struggled not to laugh as he rolled across the floor trying to get some breathing room to jump back on his feet.
Going easy? He'd like to watch her fight coherently with him jumping around in his underwear.
Harry was suddenly frozen in mid-roll by the thought of both of them in their undergarments. And by the other somewhat unsavory thoughts that were occupying his mind.
That was why he couldn't avoid the axe kick that landed on his stomach.
"Somehow, I think I deserved that," Harry mumbled before he curled up into a ball and tried not to pass out.
"Merlin, we were just sparring, Hermione!" Ron said, coming over. "You didn't have to kill him!"
"Shut up, Ron," Hermione replied automatically as she knelt down and placed her now glowing hands on Harry's stomach.
"Why did you stop so suddenly like that?" Hermione asked miserably. "I could have really hurt
you."
Ron opened his mouth again and shut it when he saw Hermione's glare.
Harry could feel the pain drain out of him from Hermione's healing touch. Wanting to keep the argument from escalating, Harry said, "Ron, you have a black eye and Neville has a bloody nose. You telling Hermione that she's being excessively violent is a little hypocritical, don't you think?"
From long experience, Harry knew that he would be the next target of Hermione's wrath, so he immediately turned to her without waiting for Ron's response. He said, "And Hermione, I was not going 'easy' on you. It's true that I'm having a bad day, but even considering that, you're just a surprisingly good fighter," Harry said honestly. Among other things, he added mentally.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Surprisingly?"
"Did I say surprisingly? I think that was the concussion speaking," Harry replied quickly. He smiled tentatively at her.
She smiled back happily. "I guess everybody has an off day. I just wanted to prove I could keep up with you, and I went a little overboard." Her face grew worried. "You're not worried about being beaten up by a girl, are you?"
"Oh please," Harry snorted. "I killed Voldemort. If anything, instead of bringing me down, this just makes you seem much more terrifying."
He nodded at the onlookers who were staring at Hermione in awe and disbelief.
Ron grinned at this. "The Girl who Kicked the Ass of the Boy Who Lived. It has a nice ring to it."
Harry just grinned. Killing the most evil wizard ever did wonders for one's self-esteem.
"Okay, I think that's enough for today," Lupin announced. "Class ended five minutes ago. Please stop by the infirmary if you have any serious injuries. Harry, I'd like to speak to you for a moment."
Hermione reached out and squeezed Harry's hand briefly. "We'll see you later, okay? And maybe you'll tell me what's going on with you."
Harry didn't bother to reply to that and instead took a second to relish the feel of her smaller hand grabbing his. He didn't even bother getting up as the class filed out. He may have been healed, but he was concerned that might merely be a temporary condition and it'd be safer if he stayed where he was.
"Harry?" Lupin asked.
With his eyes closed, Harry quipped, "Remus, why have you forsaken me?"
Lupin chuckled. "Cute. Come on, here we go." He reached out and pulled Harry to his feet.
"I'm serious," Harry insisted. "You're Snape in disguise, aren't you?"
"If you think that Severus would ever impersonate a werewolf, especially me, then you were hit harder than I thought," Lupin replied smiling.
"Then why?"
"Two reasons. One, you can't avoid fighting girls forever. That type of attitude can get you killed. I know you don't like the idea, but you might not always have a wand to protect yourself against the Bellatrix Lestranges of the world."
Harry frowned but reluctantly agreed. He asked, "And the other reason?"
Lupin looked sheepish. "I guess it was a little mean of me, but Sirius did almost the same thing by setting up James and I simply couldn't help resist repeating history."
"You got me beaten up!" Harry protested.
"I apologize. I didn't think it would go so far. James only got tagged a few times after all and he wasn't as good a fighter as you. You must really like Hermione."
Harry didn't bother to deny this. "So you're saying dad went nuts over mom?" His eyes narrowed. "It was mom, wasn't it?"
Lupin laughed. Then he replied, "It was definitely Lily. James always got a kick out of bugging her, but it wasn't until seventh year that she really got into his system. You should have seen him. He flew into a goal post once because he was watching her and Sirius was very upset at losing the game. He thought that having Lily beat James up in sparring would rid him of his crush."
"I'm assuming it didn't," Harry said.
"Turns out James had a thing for strong women." Lupin grinned. "Remind you of anyone?"
"My dad wasn't under a curse concocted by two genius idiots that caused him to see things that weren't supposed to be seen and nearly drove him insane, was he?"
Lupin blinked. "Er, I don't believe so."
"Not exactly the same then," Harry muttered.
Lupin looked at him strangely but didn't press the issue.
Harry grew a little worried. Did he actually have feelings for Hermione? Maybe it was just his messed up hormones. His only other real interest in a girl was Cho and this didn't feel the same. It felt different, and he couldn't tell if it was different in a good way or not.
Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts. He'd have to think about this later. He looked over at Lupin and said, "Remus, are there any more practical jokes from the good old days you want to re-enact?"
"Not for the moment," Lupin replied with a wink.
Harry had to smile at this. The end of the war had brought changes to everyone and if reawakening Remus Lupin's inner prankster meant a few bruises, then that was a price he was willing to pay.
~*~
The rest of the day didn't go nearly as well.
Harry was nearly eaten by a Lethifold in Hagrid's class, he blew up a cauldron in Potions and so had to spend two hours cleaning the room while Snape made caustic comments, and then had a mob of girls come after him since they decided today was the day to ask for his autograph. Since the last time that happened, he lost his shirt and shoes escaping, he got the hell out of there.
And all that was only before dinner.
These weren't all Hermione-related incidents, but enough of them were that he was becoming increasingly concerned about his continued survival if he didn't come to grips with whatever he was feeling soon.
He now sat in front of the fireplace in the common room trying to summon the energy to go upstairs and collapse in his bed.
"Whoa, I didn't expect you to still be up," Fred's voice said.
Harry looked up to see the redhead's face in the fireplace. He asked wearily, "Any good news?"
"Not really. We're making some progress, but it'll still be a few days. I just wanted to check up on you. How are you doing?"
"I've had better days."
"You thinking about Hermione?"
"Yeah..." Harry replied unthinkingly. "What? No!"
Fred grinned widely. "Aw, does little Harrykins have a little crush on lil' Mione?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry declared.
"Harry and Hermione sitting in a tree," Fred sang. "F-U-"
"FRED!"
"-M-I-G-A-T-I-N-G. Fumigating." Fred gave Harry an innocent look. "What'd you think I was trying to spell? You have such a dirty mind, Harry. Tsk, tsk."
Harry fought against the impulse then finally gave in. "Why the hell would we be fumigating?"
"It's a tree. Lots of bugs," Fred replied without blinking an eye. "So have you told the lucky lady yet?"
"I'm not even sure how I feel about her," Harry replied. "I haven't had a moment to even think!"
"Do you want my advice?" Fred asked. The flames around his head jumped eagerly.
"Oh god, no."
"Okay, here we go," Fred said. "Girls are like a box of chocolate. They're sweet on the inside and covered in attractive packaging on the out. And they're also ridiculously expensive and will hold grudges for absurd lengths of time just because you forget to meet with her and her mother on a lunch date one afternoon because you were trapped in a stupid dumbwaiter your idiot brother locked you in. Do you get me?"
"Fred, if I didn't think I'd set myself on fire trying, I'd strangle you."
Fred sighed. "Look, Harry, you think too much. Just talk to her and see what happens."
Harry decided to lighten up on the guy. He said, "I'll think about it. Look, thanks for trying to cheer me up, but I really just need to sleep."
"Hey, things will look better in the morning. They always do. Unless you wake up to my brother's ugly face. Ugh," Fred said, shuddering.
"Fred... never mind," Harry said, rubbing his forehead. "Just call me when you have a cure, okay?"
"No problem. Oh, one thing before I go. Check this out." Fred's head began to slide back and forth across the fireplace opening.
His voice took on an ominous tone. "There is nothing wrong with your fireplace. Do not attempt to adjust the Floo powder. We will control the horizontal." His face began to move up and down. "We will control the vertic- ow!"
George's voice echoed through the opening. "I told you to stop doing that!"
"You have no sense of culture! I don't know what I'm going to do with you..."
Fred's voice faded as his head vanished.
Harry finally allowed himself a small smile as he got to his feet. Maybe things would look better in the morning. The thought of morning made him remember breakfast and he touched his cheek in remembrance. He looked over at the girls' dormitory for a long moment.
Maybe it hadn't been that bad a day after all.
~*~
AN: That was just a little bit of filler. Harry's been punished for his peeping ways *snicker* and now he's ready to do some serious thinking. Unless something else gets in the way, that is...
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