White Flag by Leonhart17 Rating: G Genres: Romance Relationships: Harry & Hermione Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6 Published: 30/09/2005 Last Updated: 30/09/2005 Status: Completed (One Shot) "I will go down with this ship and I won't put my hands up and surrender There will be no white flag above my door, I'm in love and always will be." 1. White Flag ------------- **White Flag** Hermione Granger looked utterly furious as she stormed into the Gryffindor common room. As she paced rapidly toward the fireplace two first years, deciding that getting out of her way was more important than maintaining their seats near the fire, jumped quickly off of the couch and fled from the wrath of the seething Head Girl. Not even noticing the scared first years that were running away, Hermione threw herself face down on the couch, beating the cushions with her hands before deciding that this wasn’t physical enough to satisfy her anger. Jumping back to her feet she drew her wand and conjured a plain rock. A swish and flick had the rock floating in the air. Another quick jab had the rock exploding in a bright flash of red light. A wave of her wand had the rock shards flying back together, giving her her target back. She blew it up repeatedly, her burning eyes never leaving the rock. As her anger petered away she lowered her arm, leaving the rock hovering in front of her. The portrait hole opened behind her and she could hear Harry and Ron’s voices as they climbed through. The familiar sounds brought sudden tears to her eyes as she remembered again what had made her so angry. As the boys approached her she quickly blinked back her tears and pocketed her wand. Ron reached up a hand and snagged Hermione’s still floating rock out of the air. Tossing it up and catching it, he grinned at Hermione. “Practicing for NEWTs already?” She smiled at him and shook her head. “That’s one spell we’ll never forget,” she said, smiling at Harry, who was looking at her seriously. “What’s wrong Hermione?” he asked her, his green eyes staring at her. Ron stopped tossing the rock, bending his tall frame to peer into her eyes. “You okay?” he asked. Hermione nodded and Ron shrugged, convinced. Harry was still watching her, not believing her for a second. Ron began tossing the rock again, not paying any more attention to Harry’s paranoia. Harry grabbed Hermione’s wrist and pulled her down to sit on the couch. He sat down beside her, leaning close to talk lowly into her ear. *I know you think that I shouldn't still love you or tell you that. But if I didn't say it well I'd still have felt it, where's the sense in that I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder Or return to where we were but* “What’s really wrong Hermione?” he whispered. She opened her mouth to deny it and he interrupted her. “Stop it. Don’t lie to me. I know something’s wrong, tell me what it is.” With a heavy sigh she turned her head to face him. “It’s nothing bad Harry; some people just said something earlier that upset me. I’m all better now.” “What did they say?” he asked, frowning. Hermione glanced up into his green eyes quickly before she turned her head back to watch Ron toss the rock up into the air and catch it. *I will go down with this ship and I won't put my hands up and surrender There will be no white flag above my door, I'm in love and always will be* “Do you not have homework?” she asked, pulling her wand out and muttering “Accio rock.” As the rock flew out of his grip Ron turned to stare at her. “Hermione,” he groaned. “We just got back from Quidditch practice. I haven’t even taken a shower yet,” he complained, gesturing to his dirty robes. Hermione just smirked at him. “Well then go take a shower and get your books and come back down here,” she ordered, pointing imperiously toward the boy’s stairs. With a groan Ron trudged toward the stairs, muttering to himself. When he reached the foot of the stairs he turned back toward the couch. “You coming Harry?” Harry glanced at Hermione, who was looking back at him with her eyebrows raised, waiting for him to move. Sighing, he pushed himself to his feet, following Ron to the stairs. With a glance back at Hermione, who was still sitting on the couch looking back at him, he walked up the stairs behind Ron. As soon as the boys disappeared, Hermione dropped her head into her hands. How dare they? They had no idea what they were talking about. They had not idea who they were dealing with. She was Head Girl, not to mention the smartest witch or wizard in any year. She was not to be gossiped about and analyzed in the girl’s room between classes. Whoever she loved was no one else’s business, damn it! Tears were back in her eyes as she thought about it. The girls had been talking amongst themselves about that most popular topic among teenage girls, the opposite gender. As they went through the list of eligible guys, they had come to Harry. It had been brought up that it was a terrible waste that the best looking guy in the school spent all of his time with the school’s biggest nerd. The girls in the bathroom had speculated that there had to be some hidden reason that he would choose to spend his time with her. It couldn’t possibly be for friendship’s sake alone. Undoubtedly they also had not suspected that the very girl they were talking about was standing silently in a stall behind them. The final straw had come when the foolish girls had begun listing reasons that she, Hermione Granger, was not good enough for the great Harry Potter. Standing there listening to them, the anger began to build up, seething in her mind until she almost couldn’t see straight. *I know I left too much mess and destruction to come back again And I caused nothing but trouble, I understand if you can't talk to me again And if you live by the rules of "it's over" then I'm sure that that makes sense but* She vaguely remembered the bathroom exploding in a wave of water and porcelain as she had made herself known and exited just as quickly. Hermione felt a brief hint of guilt as she remembered destroying the bathroom but it was quickly forgotten as she snapped her attention back to the present as Harry plopped himself on the couch next to her. His black hair was dripping wet and hanging in his face and she had to stop herself from reaching a hand forward and pushing it back out of his eyes. Clenching her fists, she looked around for his bag. “Where are your books?” she asked, leaning back against the armrest of the sofa and pulling her feet onto the couch in front of her. *I will go down with this ship and I won't put my hands up and surrender There will be no white flag above my door, I'm in love and always will be* “What did they say?” he asked, not willing to let it go. She rolled her eyes at him and turned her head away to stare into the fire. Suddenly she felt her feet being lifted and the laces on her shoes being loosened. Harry had placed her feet in his lap and was untying her shoes. Staring at him in amazement, she watched him drop her shoes off the couch and begin to rub her feet through her socks. With a groan her head dropped back onto the armrest and her back arched. Harry smirked at her reaction and continued his ministrations. “Oh Merlin Harry; that feels so good,” she moaned, her wild hair coming loose from the low pony tail she had it in as her head moved. “Hermione,” Harry said, trying to get her attention without stopping rubbing her feet. He took a loud groan as her signal to continue. “What had you so upset earlier?” he asked, running his fingers down the arch of her foot. Hermione groaned loudly as he found a tight spot with his hands and began to work out the tension. Without even thinking about it she began to speak. “I overheard some girls talking in the bathroom.” Harry frowned to himself. “What were they talking about?” he asked, continuing to move his hands over her feet. “You,” she groaned out, her back arching again as he moved his fingers to the top of her foot. Surprised, he momentarily stopped his massage but quickly caught himself. “What where they saying about me?” he wondered aloud, thinking her previous anger could have come from one of her frequent bouts of over-protectiveness towards him. *And when we meet, which I'm sure we will All that was there, will be there still I'll let it pass, and hold my tongue And you will think, that I've moved on....* “They were saying how I’m not good enough for you,” she said, causing his hands to stop moving and, realizing what she had said, Hermione sat up quickly, her feet sliding easily from Harry’s limp grip. He was staring at her, his green eyes obviously stunned as he gazed at her. “Are you serious?” he demanded, his green eyes flashing. She nodded, placing a hand on his arm. “Harry, really, it was nothing. I overreacted,” she said, trying in vain to calm him. “No, they have no right to say anything at all about you. They don’t know anything about you, about us,” he said, his voice angry. She stopped him from saying any more. “That’s right Harry. They don’t know anything about us. They don’t know how we feel, the things that we share. They don’t know about any of it.” Stubbornly he just kept looking at her. “No one, and I mean no one, speaks badly about the woman I love, Hermione.” With a gasp, the air rushed out of her lungs and tears well up in her eyes as a hand came up to cover her mouth. Trying to cover her shock and surprise, she teased, “Oh yeah, and do I know this woman who’s captured your heart? As your best friend I think I should get to meet her.” Her voice was shaking and her hands were trembling as the tears ran over and streaked down her cheeks. Harry’s eyes softened as he looked at her. Leaning forward, he took her hand and pulled to down from her mouth to press it to his own. Smiling almost shyly at her, he took a deep breath and said the words again. “I love you Hermione.” As she threw herself onto him, hugging him tightly, it occurred to her that it really didn’t matter what some silly fourth years said about her in the bathroom. She knew exactly how Harry felt and that was all that mattered to her. *I will go down with this ship and I won't put my hands up and surrender There will be no white flag above my door, I'm in love and always will be* *I will go down with this ship and I won't put my hands up and surrender There will be no white flag above my door, I'm in love and always will be* *I will go down with this ship and I won't put my hands up and surrender There will be no white flag above my door, I'm in love and always will be* AN: This idea just popped into my head the other day when I was listening to the song White Flag by Dido (don’t own it). I sort of forgot exactly what the plan was for the story before I could write down the idea but I did my best to think it through. I like what I ended up with a lot. I know the lyrics don’t match exactly but I think it still fits. Hope you liked it.