My 5 betas have yet to think up a title....

Shocked. That was the only recognizable emotion she felt. Actually, it was the only one she’d admit to feeling. She also felt extreme appreciation. His eyes never looked so…so…green before. Most, if not all of the girls in school had apparently noticed too, as they crowded around him. How could they not notice?

Harry Potter had gotten contacts. Hermione had no idea when since it was almost Halloween, but that fact made little difference. What did was the fact that it put her back to square 1.

She had a crush on the famous Harry Potter and it seemed that everyone, Harry included, knew about it; although she had only told Ron and Luna, who were going out. Ron tried to help her by dropping anvils in front of Harry, but no luck.

So overtime Hermione tried getting over him; she had been so unbelievably close. Then this happened. Concentration took more effort than she had, so she paid little attention during her classes. It was so far gone that Harry had noticed and asked her if she was okay or needed to talk or anything. The only thing she could do was say “I’m fine.” and head to the library to get away from those emerald green eyes of his. Because otherwise, she’d fall in.

But she, in her haste to escape, forgot that Harry knew her better than anyone and thus knew when she was lying. So he followed her to the library, trying to be as quiet as possible, but knew she would only hear her own thoughts at the moment, whatever the cause may be.

After entering the library, and going to her usual table, she dropped her book bag at the foot of it. Then she walked over to the window ledge and looked out upon the grounds. “Bloody Hell.” She muttered, stunning Harry. Hermione swear? And not in a dire situation? If he hadn’t heard it, he wouldn’t have believed it.

“Now I know you’re lying to me.” He said just loud enough for her to hear.

She spun around at his voice, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “H-Harry! What are you doing here?”

“Trying to figure out why you of all people are lying to me.” he stated simply, not breaking eye contact.

“You wouldn’t understand.” she replied as she turned back to the window.

“Try me.” he said as he walked over to stand beside her. He saw her stiffen and could only wonder why.

“There’s this guy…” she started after a few minutes. “I’ve liked him for… as long as I’ve know him, now that I think about it.” she saw Harry become uncomfortable and felt a twinge of retribution for it.

“Does he like you back?” he asked quietly.

“No, I doubt he does. He’s the most popular guy in school. Girls fawn over him. Why like me?”

“Don’t sell yourself short ‘Mione.” he said, calling her by her nickname, though if anyone else tried, she’d have hit them by now. “You’re one the most beautiful witches, inside and out, and if this guy can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you in the first place.” What she didn’t know was that he wanted to be that guy, and he’d appreciate her the way she deserved.

“Then why hasn’t or won’t he say anything?” she asked, getting frustrated.

“I understand why you’re mad, and you have every reason to be. But what I don’t understand is what set all this off? Why now?” he responded with a question of his own. He was getting as confused as she was frustrated.

“Because he reminded me of what I noticed about him first.” at his questioning look, she added, “No, he didn’t talk to me, but he just--” and she stopped as tears filled her eyes.

Harry turned her to look at him. “Then tell him how you feel. Maybe he doesn’t know, likes you too and is very scared you’d turn him down if he asked. Okay?”

“Okay.” she said as she gave him a watery smile.

Time passed and slowly, Hermione realized and began to accept that this ‘crush’, or whatever it was, on Harry wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

Two weeks before break, Dumbledore announced that there would be a Holiday Ball for the Fifth through Seventh Years. Hermione liked the idea of dressing up, but her face fell at the thought of having a date.

That weekend, Hermione bought deep forest green dress robes at Madame Gladrag’s shop in Hogsmeade. The idea of the dress and seeing Harry’s expression made her very excited and anxious for the Ball itself.

Finally the day of the Ball had arrived and Harry was just as, if not more anxious than Hermione. That was due to the idea that he would ask her to dance, and if all went well, ask her out on a date.

Hermione had decided on using Sleekezy in her hair again, but in much lesser quantities. She softened her bushy hair to gentle curls and pulled some back with a barrette the same shade green as her dress.

Harry had bought basic black dress robes that brought out his green eyes with even more intensity as he was also wearing the same contacts that started this whole mess. He tried, for the millionth time, to tame his unruly raven colored hair. He failed, for the millionth time.

Having gotten to the dance before Hermione, Harry waited for her by the doors of the Great Hall. By the time Hermione had gotten to the Hall, everyone else was inside. Everyone but Harry. ‘My God. He looks even better, if that’s at all possible.’

They were quite similar Harry’s thoughts of Hermione. ‘She looks like an absolute goddess.’

“Why aren’t you in there Harry? Don’t you have a date?” she asked, not daring to hope for a certain answer.

“Nope. No date here. Actually, I was waiting on you, since I didn’t hear you mention a date either. Do you have one?” he asked, looking up and down the corridors for anyone who could be that lucky wizard.

“No date for me.”

“So would you like to be my date, and I yours for the evening?” he tentatively asked, grinning as he held out his hand.

To say that she was surprised would be an understatement of the century. Then she realized she hadn’t said anything in response. So taking his hand, she said “Sure. Why not.”

When they saw what the Great Hall looked like, not much could be said besides “Wow!” It was a winter wonderland…indoors. There was no cold so no one froze. Snow gently fell from the ceiling to fade just before hitting anyone’s hair. Christmas fir trees ran along the wall that often times held the Professors’ Table. About a dozen ice sculptures decorated the edges of the room.

All throughout the night, Harry never once left Hermione’s side and she never left his. Not that either was complaining much…

When the first slow song came on, Harry held out his hand in silent invitation, which she accepted by taking it. Together, they glided out on the floor and into a world of their own. Neither said a great deal, but not much needed saying. After a bit, Hermione grew bold and circled her arms around his neck as he did the same around her waist. Both were far too far gone to hear that the song had long since gone off and was replaced with a faster one. They kept moving in the soft, easy, slow manner; too happy to do anything else.

That went on for most of the night, taking a few breaks to get something to snack on or eat. By the end of the night, Harry had made up his mind. He was going to ask her out.

So he took her off to the side while everyone else was leaving, “Hermione, I don’t know how to say this, or even why I’m saying this. Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me? No Ron, no Luna. Just you and me. A d-date.” he said, blushing.

Hermione, for the second time that night, was surprised. Did Harry Potter, most popular boy in school, just ask her out? She quickly pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, then in response, leaned up and gently placed a feather light kiss on Harry’s lips as she said “I’d love to.” As she backed away, she took his hand and interlaced their fingers, feeling the shock of each other’s touch.

Now it was Harry’s turn to be surprised. Did Hermione Granger, the smartest and quite possibly the most beautiful girl in all of Hogwarts, just kiss him, take his hand and say she’d go out with him? He looked down and saw that she had taken hold of his hand alright, so that meant that everything else happened too.

The next day, they sat in the common room while everyone else was out playing in the brisk winter weather. Harry looked at Hermione and asked “That guy you liked, what happened to him?”

Hermione sighed. “You know how I said he reminded me of what I noticed about him first?”

Harry nodded, afraid of what she’d say.

“He got contacts. It made his eyes look so clear, so deep.” she said, trying to not look at his face in fear of what would be there. When she gathered the courage to, she saw fear, jealousy, guilt (she guessed it was due to the jealousy), and hurt. Then she said, “Oh Harry! It was you all this time, alright? I wasn’t and wouldn’t talk about anyone else that way. Okay?” she said softly, looking at him dead in the eye as if to punctuate her meaning. She surprised him as she put her lips to his and held them there, throwing the ball in his court, so to speak.

Once he realized what exactly was going on, he buried a hand deep in her brunette curls and held her there until oxygen was necessary. Then he pulled away, “Thanks for waiting ‘Mione. I had no idea, but I’m sure glad I asked you to the Ball the last minute.” he said, grinning.

fin