Kissing Frogs

Kissing Frogs

by J&M Ink.

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: Written by J. Because HBP was so disappointing, I have decided to disregard it completely in this fic. I may make a few references here and there, but this is going to focus on the Trio’s 7th year as if HBP never happened. The H/Hr make take a while, but patience is a virtue. I’m a rookie with the whole humor thing, so if you read, please review with some requests and ideas. They would help muchly. Thank you and enjoy!

Chapter One

The Damsel in Distress

"Shh, no Ginny, don’t wake her, she’ll spoil it. You know how she is about rules."

I see myself as a romantic. I’m not sure many other people do. I’m sure the only thing they think I can love is a book and I keep my eyes fixed firmly on the page I’m reading when one of the Greek gods of Hogwarts walks by. Who would seriously take the time to discover that I’m really a girl? Well, the school uniform doesn’t help my plight much, but that’s besides the point. I guess what I mean to say is I’m just as normal as the next girl and I want to be recognized as such. Unfortunately, life doesn’t always work out the way you want it to.

But occasionally, it does.

"Shut your arse, Parvati, or you can stay right here for the night. I’m allowed to invite whoever I want."

"She’ll report us, Gin, you know she will," Lavender Brown whispered hastily as Ginny took a step closer to my bed. I listened to them through my bed hangings, tears stinging my eyes and I gripped my pillow harder.

"Both of you can go back to sleep then. If she doesn’t come, none of you do. Dean won’t let you in without me."

No one said a word and I heard Ginny pull the hangings back and felt her gently touch my shoulder. ‘Shit!’ I thought and snapped my eyes closed and let my mouth hang open a bit. I sensed her move in closer.

"Hermione," She whispered, pressing harder on my shoulder. "Hermione, wake up."

Carefully, I fluttered my eyes open, blinked a couple of times, yawned and sat up. I did my best impression of drowsy as I looked at Ginny. She smiled.

"Dean’s throwing a Beginning-of-Term party in the common room for the sixth and seventh years. You want to come? It won’t be for long, I swear."

I heard Parvati and Lavender suck in their breath and felt their eyes on me. I blinked a couple times at Ginny, pretending to wake up. I had overheard Dean telling Ginny about the party earlier that day and had seriously considered ending it then and there, but Harry had called my attention to something else and I had forgotten all about it until now. My Prefect duties cried for me to avenge the school’s rules, but my womanly pride had been wounded by my roommates. I couldn’t pass this up.

"Sure, I’d love to. Give me a minute to change."

I thought I heard Lavender and Parvati’s jaws hit the floor as I rolled out of bed and walked over to my trunk. I hid my grin in the darkness of the room and decided that I might as well milk this for all it was worth. They were all dressed to impress, so why shouldn’t I? I pulled out a cute skirt that I had bought over the summer. On a whim I had packed it, thinking I might wear it to some Hogsmede trip, but then, if I was too conscious to wear it while I was out of school and I knew no one, why would going out with all of my friends change anything? But now was not a time to be worried about what people thought about me. I felt a sudden urge to drop some more jaws, to be daring and do something dangerous, even if all I did was don a skirt an allow an illegal party.

I tugged on a random black shirt and rummaged around for something for my feet. Parvati, Ginny and Lavender were all wearing shoes with heels, but as I had never adapted a liking to walking on pencils, I owned nothing but a my school shoes and a beat up pair of trainers, neither of which I felt like wearing. Struck with a sudden idea, I smiled and sifted through the clothes in my trunk until I came across a pair of red socks decorated with black polka dots. I had knitted them a year ago, but seeing as they weren’t practical, I had never worn them until tonight. I slid them on my feet and glanced at myself in the mirror. Makeup was something I would never consent to, but something needed to be done around my appearance. My eyes landed on my brush and with a smile, I picked it up. I whispered a handy spell I had come across in my concealed subscriptions of Magical You: A Witch’s Guide to Beauty Today. As I ran the brush through my hair, it sprung into an artful mess of glossy curls. I shook my head experimentally, watching them bounce around my face, and then I turned back to the other three and gestured toward the door to leave. Ginny was smiling and shaking her head at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Lavender and Parvati followed us out of the room, speaking to each other through facial expressions. Their eyes jerked in my direction several times, but I pretended not to notice. I was beginning to worry about agreeing to attend this party. I wasn’t good at relaxing and breaking the rules and simply having fun. I wanted to feign exhaustion and run back to the dormitory, but it was too late; Ginny had met Dean at the staircase and clarified Lavender, Parvati and I as her guests. Dean acknowledged us with a nod of his head before dragging Ginny off into a dark corner. The other two promptly left me to attend to their own devices, and I found myself standing alone amidst the group of sixth and seventh years. Though I knew everybody present, I can honestly say I had never felt so out of place in my life.

Fate decided to step in at that exact moment. It’s funny how one minute, you’re cruising along life at a comfortable speed, and then before you can do anything to stop it, you’re knocked into a parallel universe by a force that I’m certain resembles a Hungarian Horntail in heat. I’ll have to ask Harry about that, though.

"Nice polka dots, Hermione," Said a deep voice at my elbow. Startled, I turned around a little too quickly, lost my footing on the carpet and fell back into the arms of Seamus Finnigan. He reacted quickly and had me back on my feet in an instant, but in that brief moment where his hands had been planted on my waist, my heart had fluttered and I had forgotten how to breathe. On my feet again, I faced him without falling over and flipped my hair back into place. He was smiling exquisitely down at me, his dark eyes glinting in a way I had never noticed before. Before I could stop myself, I smiled back.

"Thanks, Seamus."

He shrugged. "No problem. Saving pretty girls from suicidal socks is my specialty. Can I have this dance?"

I bit my lip, instantly embarrassed. "I...er...don’t know how to...dance..." I muttered, avoiding his eyes. He laughed and I blushed scarlet, then turned to walk away. His hand in mine stopped me, and as I looked up to question him, he pulled me in close, his free hand making itself at home on my waist. He looked down at me devilishly and whispered, "No, they don’t teach dancing in textbooks, do they? It’s just something you learn through experience."

And with an ease I had never known, he spun me in a circle, drew me back into him, and then patiently walked me through the steps of the song. I fell over twice and stepped on his toes more times than I could count, but by the fifth song we danced to, I began to understand.

Reluctantly, I disentangled myself from him to grab a butterbeer, and as I turned away to find somewhere to sit, I promptly ran into the chest of one of my best friends. Harry grabbed my shoulders to steady me.

"How many of those have you had?" He asked, his green eyes betraying concern as they took in the beverage in my hand.

"This is my first," I said, offended that he, who knew me better than anyone, would even think to insinuate that I was inebriated.

"Well, the way you’ve been tripping all over the place, who could tell?" He asked, and before I could make a catty comeback, he was pulled away by a gaggle of sixth years. I made my way to an empty chair and sipped my butterbeer, trying to enjoy it despite Harry’s painful comment. When the drink didn’t satisfy me, I proceeded to glare daggers into his back as he danced with a raven-haired sixth year. I was about to throttle her for kissing his cheek when I felt a tug on my hand. I looked up into the face of a very flushed Ginny Weasely.

"We’re playing games in the other room. Want to come?"

"Sure, let me grab Seamus," I said icily, narrowing my eyes at Harry as he looked my way. Ginny followed my gaze, beamed at Harry, and made a beeline toward him, probably to invite him to the games. His eyes flicked over to me, and then he nodded. Infuriated, I stomped over to where Seamus was talking Quidditch with Ron and dragged him away to the room Ginny had indicated. After nearly throwing Seamus into a chair, I took the seat beside him, making sure I was extremely close to him when Harry walked in. Usually it was Ron who became jealous when I expressed interest in a boy, but I knew it mildly annoyed Harry too, and I wanted him to be more pissed off than Professor McGonagall in PMS on a Monday.

Ginny walked in, trailed closely by Dean, Parvati, Lavender, Ron, Neville, and a few other random people. They took seats and looked around at those assembled before Ginny said, "Well, what shall we play?"

Extreme Exploding Snap, Truth or Skinny-Dip-With-the-Giant-Squid, and Pin-the-Tail-on-Ron’s-Forehead were all rejected before I blurted out, "How about Spin the Bottle?"

I instantly regretted recommending it. I had only played it once, with my cousins two summers ago, and kissing a cactus doesn’t make a good first experience. But for some reason, my idiot mouth blurted it out. Come to think of it, it may have had something to do with Seamus’s hand resting on my thigh. Every time he ran this thumb over my skin my head went fuzzy. What in the name of Merlin had gotten into me tonight? Perhaps someone had spiked the butterbeer... no, that couldn’t be it, because if it was, it would mean I would have to stop wishing I could throw darts at Harry’s forehead.

The Muggleborns and those with half magic, half Muggle blood in them looked at me curiously, as if they were taken aback that I, Hermione Granger, had advocated such a game. From the corner of my eye, I saw Harry raise an eyebrow.

"What’s Spin the Bottle?" Ginny asked, speaking for those purebloods who knew next to nothing about the Muggle world. I hesitated; maybe if I gave her a fake explanation, I could redeem myself for suggesting it and save myself the torment of having to--

"It’s a Muggle game," Harry cut in, his eyes glued to my face. "You set a bottle in the middle of a table and spin it, and whoever it lands on, you have to kiss."

The girls looked excitedly at each other and then scrutinized the afore mentioned boys that they might have to lock lips with. The boys exchanged wobbly smiles of both anxiety and interest. I whipped out my wand, jumped on the table and hexed Harry Potter until he resembled something that seemed to be a cross between a frog and a chimpanzee.

Well, that’s what I wanted to do, anyway. But Ginny was clapping her hands in glee.

"I think we’ve found ourselves a game," She said, her eyes lingering on Dean seductively. "Anyone have a bottle?"

No, no one here has a bottle, we’ll have to play a new game, I liked the idea of Pin-the-Tail-on-Ron’s-Forehead...or maybe we could play Feed-Harry-to-the-Whomping-Willow...

"Hermione’s got an empty butterbeer bottle," Seamus declared. He successfully pried it out of my cold, dead fingers and placed it on the table in front of us. Ginny raised her wand to Charm it into spinning, but Harry stopped her.

"No magic. You can tamper with magic. It wouldn’t be fair that way."

Ginny pouted, but put her wand away. There was a brief argument about who should go first. They eventually decided to start with Lavender and go clockwise from there. Lavender squealed and reached for the bottle, but Ginny stopped her. Her eyes glinted dangerously.

"Let’s make some rules first, to make this a bit more interesting. What do you guys say?" We murmured our agreement. I twisted a piece of hair nervously and bit my lip. Harry was smirking satisfactorily in my direction. "Good. Okay, only two rules. You must kiss whoever the bottle lands on, no argument. Agreed?" Hold on, let my fish out my tube of poison lipstick, just in case I have to kiss Harry...and a pack of mints in case it lands on Ron.

"Agreed."

"Good. Rule two; it has to be a real, mouth open, tonsil-hockey, actual kiss. And you have to wait for our consent to stop. Agreed?" If I have to kiss Harry for more than a second, I’ll bash the bottle over his head.

"Agreed," Everyone said after a moment’s hesitation. Ginny nodded her approval and gestured for Lavender to proceed. Her hand faltered over the bottle. She gulped, closed her eyes, and spun.

Needless to say, chaos ensued from there.

Lavender was stuck kissing Colin Creevy for a whole sixteen seconds before we stopped laughing and took pity on her. Colin grinned like an idiot and Parvati had to literally restrain Lavender from pummeling anyone who let out an uncontrollable giggle. Ginny and Dean made out for half a minute before we broke from our stupor and Ron pulled them apart. She swears she didn’t cheat. Dean wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or scared for his life when his ten seconds of kissing Parvati ended and he returned to Ginny’s side. Ron swore he would set his arse on fire before he kissed Neville, but we refused to let him leave the room until he did. Even though it was the funniest thing we’d ever seen, we had mercy and made it short. When my turn finally came, I put on an air of confidence and spun the bottle as hard as I could, hoping against hope that it didn’t land on Harry. I heard something from beside me, but by the time I looked for the source it was too late and the bottle was slowing. Everyone held their breath.

Seamus’s smug smile did not go unnoticed by me when the bottle landed on him. I glanced at Harry for a moment, not missing the flicker of fire in his eyes, and then turned to Seamus. I watched him for a moment, formulating a plan. I had learned a few things from Viktor in the summer between my fourth and fifth year, but I was out of practice. I wondered how much I could make Harry’s blood boil before the end of the night.

I touched Seamus’s cheek and gently led his face closer to mine. I saw his eyes close and felt him inhale against my skin. Ignoring the butterflies in my stomach, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his. I felt his mouth open against mine and I responded by sliding my tongue across his. I felt his fingers in my hair as he pulled me closer to him, the kiss hardening as he did. I followed his lead from there, until we finally heard Ginny say, "Aren’t you two out of breath yet?"

We slowly pulled away and I avoided the awkward stare-into-each other’s-eyes thing by looking to Ginny. Her expression looked like everyone else’s: purely shocked. Ron’s face was pale, but his eyes danced with a look I hadn’t seen on him ever before. Lavender and Parvati were scandalized, Neville was flabbergasted, and Harry...there was no emotion there. It registered that Seamus and I had kissed for almost a minute before they had ended it. The game progressed, but I avoided Seamus’s and everyone else’s eyes. I hadn’t meant to get so wrapped up in it...I hadn’t even felt anything spectacular about kissing Seamus. I had just been trying to...what had I been trying to do? Make Harry mad? How would me kissing Seamus make him mad? Why did I want him annoyed with my in the first place? I was just about to flee from the party altogether and enjoy a hearty cry in the dormitory when I saw the bottle pointing at me. Startled, I looked up and instantly found Harry.

His expression was intense as he slowly got to his feet and walked around the table to me. My body began to quiver and I felt the tension in the room rise. My mouth flapped wordlessly and I looked everywhere but at him, but I could feel him getting closer. My eyes caught Ginny pleadingly, and she looked just as scared as I was, because she had noticed the unrest between us during the entire night. She barely shook her head; after Ron and Neville, it was impossible for her rule to be changed. My eyes widened and I opened my mouth, but there was a hand on my shoulder. I knew who it was and what would happen if I looked, but I stupidly turned my head anyway and stared at Harry. He had knelt in front of me and put his hands on both of my shoulders. My insides were a churning mess of nerves and anticipation. I didn’t want this to happen, and yet...and yet...

Before I could register anything, he was kissing me. His was mouth soft and tender against mine, gently easing my lips apart with his. I gasped when I felt his tongue swirl artfully over mine. I pulled away, and then was overcome with an undeniable desire to kiss him again. He came back to me, as we had not yet been told to stop, and I kissed his bottom lip fiercely before taking it between my teeth and gently biting down. He maneuvered his mouth against mine so he was the dominate one again, and his kiss became rough, demanding, almost passionate. My head was swimming, I couldn’t think, couldn’t concentrate. My insides began to explode. ‘This must be what a Blast-Ended Skrewt feels like,’ I thought. It was becoming harder to breathe. This was so indescribably...wonderful...I wanted to kiss him forever, to always feel like this. It was paradise, it was nirvana, it was Heaven, it was...

Hell.

My eyes snapped open and I regained my ability to think clearly. Instantly, I was angry. Angry at him for questioning me, for not helping me get off the hook when I suggested this stupid game, for not showing any sign of me kissing Seamus, and now for kissing me like he was, like I was more than a best friend, more than a sister. I had to get away from all of it before I exploded. I did the only comprehensible thing possible.

I slapped him.

Harry immediately pulled away, his hand nursing his cheek. His eyes betrayed astonishment. Everyone gasped. I glared at him, tears stinging my eyes, and without another word, I left the room and ran to my dormitory where I closed the hangings tightly around me, ignored Ginny when she came in, and cried myself to sleep.

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: Wow...twenty-eight reviews on my first chapter. That’s the best turnout I’ve ever gotten. Thanks so much for your responses! I had this chapter half-written, so I finished it tonight as a thank-you for those reviews of yours, but I’m a slow updater, so don’t hold your breath as you sit in anticipation for the next chapter. I’m trying to juggle two stories now, so I’ll do my best, I promise!

You can thank half of this chapter to Hermione4HdGrl, whose review opened an entirely new ballfield of ideas for me. Without that suggestion, we would all be stuck in Writer’s Block Limbo.

Chapter Two

Catching Flies

‘So this is what it feels like to be dead,’ was my first coherent thought the next morning. Even with my eyes closed, the throbbing behind them was unbearable. The only sound I was aware of was the thin pulse of the blood in my ears. My entire head seemed to be dancing to a cadence of its own, and my throat felt hoarse and dry. Groaning, I swung out of the bed and rummaged through my things until I found a potion I had brewed over the summer in case I contracted a cold. I swallowed the vile maroon liquid and gagged, but I instantly felt better. It was then that I noticed I was alone in the dormitory.

Ten flustered minutes later, I burst into the Great Hall, my robe slipping off of my shoulder, my books askew in my hands. I would kill Ginny for not waking me. As I hurried by to reach the Gryffindor table, I noticed the sundry looks being cast my way, most of them from male eyes. I flushed and walked faster and almost sat in my usual spot between Harry and Ron until I remembered that I had taken a vow of silence against Harry. He looked up at me cheerfully, and upon hearing his, "Good morning, Hermione," I picked up his plate of eggs and shoved them in his face. The entire Hall erupted into hysterics as I turned on my heel and marched over to the empty seat next to Seamus. I smiled coyly as he slung his arm around my shoulder and planted a kiss on my cheek. I chanced a glance out of the corner of my eye to see Harry wordlessly glaring at the laughing Ron. He picked flecks of egg out of his eyebrows and flicked them at Ron, but the damage had been done. ‘Serves him right,’ I thought, turning to my own plate, only half listening to Seamus. I only really began to hear him when he started to profess his undying love for me. My fork was halfway through its journey to my mouth when I heard him say, "--never felt this way about anyone before..."

Stunned, I looked up at him, not believing what I was hearing. His eyes were hopeful as he looked down at me, but mercifully, it was time to go to class. I fled him without a word, hoping to find serenity in Transfiguration class. To my horror, I was met by a wave of boys from every House and every year, offering to carry my books or walk me to class. It was only when one of them attempted to float me to Transfiguration and my feet left the ground that I lost my head and screamed.

"Get out of the way!" I heard someone shouting. I tried to fight off the hoard, but they refused to budge. "MOVE, you thick headed prat! Get away from her, let her breathe! No, she doesn’t want to snog you, now MOVE!"

Ginny was pushing her way through the crowd to reach me. Once she had, she grabbed my hand and glared at the boys in front of her. They parted for us like the sea, and Ginny stomped away with me trailing behind. She only slowed down after we had traversed the entire hall and rounded the corner. I was now officially late for class and mortified at the same time, hence the tears. Ginny gave me a moment to control myself and then took my face in her hands. She smiled and wiped a stray tear away.

"What do they want?" I asked unsteadily, glancing around for any more horrid boys. Ginny sighed.

"They want you. Apparently, word of your kissing expertise has gotten around the school, so...well, come on, Hermione, you’re smart, you’re pretty, and you know what to do with your tongue. Of course they’re going to come after you now."

"It was just a game!" I shouted, aghast. That’s what this was all about? The entire male population of Hogwarts wanted to snog me?

Ginny tutted and smoothed my hair in an attempt to comfort me. "There now, Hermione, this isn’t a bad thing. You can use it to your advantage."

"How?" I wailed. How could she possibly find optimism in this situation?

"Well," She began, throwing her hair over her shoulder. "there are about a thousand boys who would do anything you asked them to do simply because it’s you, so if you’re ever in a tough spot, just pick one to help you out. Two, you’ll never be lonely. Three, almost every single girl in Hogwarts will envy you. Four, you can refine your technique, and five..." She bit her lip, as if afraid to say the next part.

"Five what?"

"Well, it may even help you to...you know...get over Ron."

She said this last part in a whisper, but it rang in my ears as if she had shouted it. After clinging to Seamus for the entire night, I had almost forgotten my feelings for Ginny’s brother. Now, I remembered the looks he had given me, and I was filled with a sudden hope. Maybe I could use last night’s mistakes for my advantage...

Professor McGonagall was astonished when I walked into class fifteen minutes late. She was too speechless to assign me detention, but not enough to forget to dock ten points from Gryffindor. I tried not to let it bother me as I sauntered over to Harry and Ron and sat down between them. I flashed them both a smile and then took out my book. I felt them glance at each other in confusion behind me, but I paid it no mind and pretended to listen to the lesson. Try as I might, though, I couldn’t concentrate.

Ginny had told me to flirt more, to move my hips when I walk, to brush by a boy if I was walking close to him, to flip my hair and blink a lot when I was talking to someone. She said if I could perfect the art of tantalization I would be good to go.

"The greatest thing about being a woman is men will do anything for you if you have them wrapped tightly enough around your finger," She had said wisely as she walked me to class. I had listened with rapt attention to what she had to say, but a tiny voice in the back of my mind was waving a red flag in front of my face.

‘This isn’t who you are,’ It screamed. ‘Maybe it’s fine for her, but you aren’t the hip-shaking, eyelash-batting type. Viktor liked you well enough as yourself. Why do you need to change to get attention?’

But then I had remembered the way Seamus and Harry had kissed me, the heads that had turned when I had come to breakfast this morning, the way Ron had looked at me, the way he was looking at me right now...

Maybe it was time to change who the world apparently thought I was. I expressed my thoughts to Ginny at dinner that night.

"Good for you!" She said brightly upon hearing my plan. "Put them in their places, Hermione. Granted, don’t start to...well, you know...create a ‘name’ for yourself, per say, but still, take what you’ve been given and ride it all the way. Have some fun for once."

‘Say no!’ My conscience screamed. ‘Say no and go read a book, that always makes you feel better.’ But I had just caught Harry staring at me from the other side of the table. He raised an eyebrow at me when our eyes met, and I childishly stuck my tongue out at him. I would not let him win this silent war between us, no matter how many somersaults my stomach did when I was around him.

I turned back to Ginny and put on my most radiant false smile. "I think you’re right, Gin." Seamus passed behind us and swiftly reached down to tweak my backside. I let out a squeak and turned around in my seat in time to catch his wink. A smile slowly spread across my face. I shoved the bushy-haired bookworm girl Hogwarts knew aside. "I think you’re right."

~*~

Ron and I were roaming the halls on Prefect duty later that night. The hungry look in his eyes every time I passed by him and the fact that there were absolutely no mischievous students lurking the school was doing nothing to soften the awkward silence between us. I had an intense desire to grab Ron by the neck of his robes and poke his eyes out when a clatter of footsteps sounded on the stairwell behind us. I whirled around, eager to end the silent vigil and take my simmering frustration out on the unlucky pupil that had decided to cross paths with a moody Prefect after hours.

To my severe distaste, it was the Head Boy who ascended the steps and met us. He nodded at Ron and then turned his attention on me.

"Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office," he said, as smooth as glass, as if nothing had ever happened between us. I wanted to throw him over the banister for being so calm as my internal organs began to explode. Bristling, I brushed by him and, using my largest stride, made my way to the Headmaster’s office. Despite my efforts, the Head Boy caught up with me in less than a heartbeat and we made the journey in a silence that was not unlike that which had fallen on Ron and me earlier. I was boarding insanity when we finally arrived at the stone gargoyle.

"Tiddlywinks," My companion said breezily, and the gargoyle predictably sprang away from the staircase. The Head Boy moved aside so I could pass through the entrance first, and I did not hesitate to blindside him with my shoulder as I made my way up the stairs. He opened his mouth to voice an angry retort, but thought better of it and drowned his comment in a growl instead. I stuck out my chin and made my way up to the office with no regard to the rake behind me.

"Ah, Miss Granger, it’s good to see you again," Professor Dumbledore said cordially when I stepped into his...eccentric office. He rose to his feet and came around from behind his desk when the Head Boy entered the premises. He smiled warmly at us as we stood side-by-side.

"I would offer you both a seat, but it is late and I do not intend to keep you long. Miss Granger, we have found ourselves in a precarious situation, and I knew no one better to ask for help than you."

I stood a little straighter, stuck out my chest and basked in the glow of his praise. I mentally stuck out my tongue to the boy standing next to me. This time, I was going to be the hero.

"You know Miss Matilda Hawkins, Miss Granger?" Professor Dumbledore asked me. My demeanor darkened a little; the mention of Hawkins was no less than a rain on my parade. Matilda Hawkins was a very blonde, very curvy, very rich Hufflepuff who had somehow beaten me for the title of Head Girl. Not only that, but for this past first week of term, she had been making a fool of me in class, all the while ogling at Harry from across the room. Two of my usually perfect potions had suffered thanks to her "brushing" past our table, and I kept a picture of her buried deep in my trunk. It had an odd tendency of catching flame when I was irate, and when the ashes ceased to smolder, they came back together as her photograph, ready to burn again on my command...no, not on my command, it simply...spontaneously combusted every now and then. I have nothing to do with it.

"I know her, yes sir," I said as politely as I could, my fingernails digging into the palms behind my back to keep my composure steady.

"Good, good. It appears Miss Hawkins has taken to a severe case of hippogriff pox and will have to return home until the end of the semester, which means we are short of one Head Girl. Would you care to fill the position, Miss Granger?"

If it wasn’t for that obnoxiously long beard, I would’ve kissed my Headmaster on the spot. "Yes sir, Professor, I would like that very much," I said as calmly as I could. His eyes twinkled.

"Good. Well, that settles it, then. I’ll make the announcement tomorrow morning at breakfast." He yawned and stretched his arms over his head. "Well," he said sleepily. "I believe it is time we all turn in for the evening. Mr. Potter, would you care to show Miss Granger to her dorm?"

"Gladly, Professor," Harry said and turned to get the door.

"Thank you, Professor!" I couldn’t help exclaiming. He nodded at me, his entire face smiling, and I nearly floated to the door. I was too happy to even ignore Harry as he led me through the halls to where the Head Boy and Girl resided. I was skipping and humming a tune my mother had used to sing to me when I was younger when he finally stopped us at a large portrait of a pasty-looking flower surrounded by ugly pixies.

"Bezoar," Harry said to the painting. The pixies looked at me and then back at each other. The crossed their arms and sat adamantly on the petals of the sickly flower.

"She isn’t the Head Girl; she can’t go in," One of the pixies scoffed, leering at me.

"She is now. Matilda went home sick. Hermione is taking her place. Open the portal," Harry said patiently. The pixies folded their arms across their scrawny chests.

"She isn’t the Head Girl, and the password was changed," They said in an eerie unison.

After a day filled with catcalls, pickup lines, and Ron raising his eyebrows at me every chance he got, I was not in the mood for belligerent pixies. I took out my wand and blasted the painting. The pixies shrieked and fled the petal I had incinerated. When the smoke cleared, they crowded around the scorch mark on the canvas.

"Open the portal," I said, not nearly as patient as Harry had been. They glared at me, but the portrait door swung open to admit me anyway.

"Our rooms are have a door connecting them, so if you need anything, just knock," Harry offered as I climbed through the opening.

"I doubt I will," I said condescendingly as the pixies slammed the portrait door closed. I caught the fallen look on his face before the back of the door met my nose and I fell back on my bum. My eyes watered and I reached up to nurse the sensitive cartilage, trying to remember why I was angry with him in the first place.

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: Sorry for the delay, guys, but chapter three is finally here! I know it’s kind of short, but I tried to answer as many of your questions as I could. This has got to be the most successful story I’ve written. I love hearing your feedback, so please keep the reviews coming! I hope you like this installment as much as I do...and I like it a lot. :-D

Chapter Three

The Witch’s Spell

It was well past midnight when I descended the spiral mahogany staircase and looked around my sitting room. It was about as large as the Gryffindor Common Room, with a couple of comfortable leather arm chairs, a constantly stoked fire, a Persian rug, and several other odd assortments that would make a Head Girl feel at home. I rubbed warmth into my bare arms and dug my toes into the thick carpeting. Although the bed in the beautiful loft was the softest I had ever had the fortune of laying my body on, sleep was unobtainable to me. There was simply too much on my mind. I glanced around the room and instantly found a huge oak bookcase. Smiling to myself, I went over to it. All of my favorite titles adorned the shelves, but I couldn’t resist a quick re-read of Hogwarts, A History. I picked one of the chairs by the fire and curled up into it. Ginny would disapprove of book-reading now that I was working on "changing my appearance," but I didn’t necessarily enjoy being eye candy and not much else. Certainly I could read in the privacy of my own room.

"Knock, knock," he said softly from the ornately carved door that separated our rooms. I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t look up at him. Privacy my arse.

He fell silent, and I felt his eyes on me. I refused to acknowledge him. "Can I come in?" he said at last.

I sighed and turned the page I was reading with a flick. "Obviously you can, if you got the door open. For Merlin’s sake, Harry, do you need my help with everything?"

Harry sighed and crossed over to me. I felt my palpitating heart accelerate when he kneeled down in front of where I sat and gently took the book from my fingers. As he placed it next to him on the rug, I finally looked up. He was silhouetted elegantly against the fire and I was fully aware of what I was doing as I let my eyes trace his perfect outline against the dancing flames. They licked at his broad shoulders and their shadows cascaded over his face in a smoky veil. I felt my heart crack when I realized how harshly I had shunned him, and yet I had an odd thirst to continue my anger with him. My mind scrambled to find something catty to say, but damn, he looked good...

"What did I do to you, ‘Mione?" he asked with a sad sigh when he looked back up at me. I opened my mouth to retort, but my voice caught in my throat. I knew full well what he had done to me, but that didn’t mean I could explain it.

I made several failed attempts to speak before I finally found words to put my emotions to. "You didn’t back me up during Spin-the-Bottle."

Harry looked at me, his expression stunned, before shaking his head and laughing bitterly. "You’re as fiery as a game of Exploding Snap because I didn’t let you back out of Spin-the-Bottle?" he whispered, his eyes glinting in the shadows. "You seemed to enjoy yourself quite a bit once the game started."

I drew back, stung. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"For Merlin’s sake, Hermione, do I have to help you with everything?" he asked mockingly. "Ever since you played that game, you’ve been traipsing around Hogwarts, acting--"

My ears had honed in on one word. A moment earlier I had been a mixture of hurt and apologetic, but now I was close to hating him again. "Traipsing?" I seethed as I gripped the sides of the armchair. "What are you insinuating, Harry Potter?"

He sighed. "I wasn’t insinuating anything, Hermione, I was just telling you what I’ve seen. You’re...you’re putting on airs to impress people, and it’s not who you are. I don’t like it."

"You don’t like it," I repeated slowly, numbed by his blatant audacity. He met my eyes, clearly unaware of the wrath he had just invoked. I took a few deep breaths to keep myself from causing him any real bodily harm. How did this boy, my best friend, have the capacity to make my head spin out of both anger and passion? Those types of emotions shouldn’t be allowed in hormonal teenage girls who know how to cast Unforgivable Curses.

"Well," I said, my eyes closed and my breathing labored, "I appreciate your concern, but I’m a big girl, Harry, and I don’t need you making my decisions for me."

"Hermione, I--" he began, but it was too late. The damage had been done. I held up my hand to silence him.

"Actually, Harry, I’m feeling rather tired. I think I’ll go to bed now. Good night."

Without another word, I left him by the fireplace and went up the staircase to my bedroom as quickly as I could. I lay awake in bed until I heard him leave for his own dorm and close the last remaining connection between us. I was so confused...what I had felt between us at the party could not be explained, and because I had no explanation, I was lashing out at him. Then there was Ginny and the way Seamus looked at me whenever I passed him by, or the way the entire school was suddenly paying attention to me. And I knew far below me, the copy of Hogwarts, A History was laying forgotten on the floor. I closed tear-filled eyes and willed myself into a restless sleep.

~*~

The next morning in Transfiguration class, I purposefully avoided my usual table with Harry and Ron took a seat next to Seamus. He beamed and slung his arm around the back of my chair as I pasted a smile on my face and pretended not to notice Harry’s scowl. Professor McGonagall looked back and forth between our tables before shrugging the unusual seating arrangement off and turning to the board.

"Today, we will be continuing our study of large-scale transfigurations. Please find your supplies and partner into groups of two and, using yesterday’s notes, take turns attempting to turn your desk into a fishbowl. Bonus points will be awarded to the most creative team."

Seamus went first. I allowed myself a few genuine laughs as he turned our books into miniature statues of castles and mermaids and other odd fishbowl assortments. He had just turned my quill into a clump of seaweed when I realized we were running out of time.

"Um, Seamus?"

"Yes, love?" He asked as he scrutinized my ink bottle. I felt my face twist when he called me "love", but I decided to ignore his frivolity.

"We need to get the table done."

He turned and looked at me, eyebrows raised. "The table? Oh, yes, the table...I figured I’d leave that up to you, ‘Mione."

‘Mione? "Up to me?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. "We’re supposed to be taking turns, Seamus, I--"

"Hey," he said softly with a charming smile as he came over and took my hands in his. Grinning devilishly, he leaned in close enough for me to feel his cheek brush against mine when he whispered, "You’re the cleverest witch in the entire school, Hermione. Show off a little bit. remind them that you’re just as brilliant as you are beautiful."

He stole a quick kiss as he pulled away and then turned his attention back to my ink. I blushed furiously; my head was screaming "He’s using you!" but my heart was still trying to recover from being called beautiful. I didn’t feel very beautiful, what with my hair pulled back in a mess of a pony tail and my face smudged with unidentifiable goo from Potions. But Seamus had said I was, and why shouldn’t I believe him? I raised my wand and pointed it at the table, ready to turn it into the best buggering fishbowl McGonagall had ever seen...but something made me glance up. There was Harry, standing directly across from me, frozen entirely as Ron complained animatedly to him and attempted to change their toaster back into a table. Our eyes locked on each other, and for a moment, I wanted him to kiss me again, wanted to feel that fire for all it was worth instead of dousing it prematurely. Suddenly, I realized he was more than a best friend to me and that I would never look at him like a brother again...come to think of it, I couldn’t remember a time when his mere presence didn’t make my legs turn to jelly. Perhaps I had just gotten used to ignoring the feeling, since he would never see me as anything but Hermione. He would never look at me like Seamus did...but if it was something he would never do, why was he looking at me so peculiarly?

Seamus said something and I came back to my senses. Blushing furiously, I looked back to our table, trying to remember the spell I was supposed to use. My memory flailed wildly for its composure, and a word rose in my throat. Before I could stop it, my mouth opened. At that same exact moment, Seamus decided to reach across me for a supply and "accidentally" brushed his arm against my chest. I started, and my wand arm jerked, and the elusive spell finally jumped off of my tongue and gained its voice.

"Esse ranarum!"

There was a brilliant green flash that encompassed the entire room. A few people screamed, including myself as I shielded my eyes with my arm. When the light had dimmed I looked up and around the room, checking to see if I had caused any damage. My heart raced beneath my chest, and my brain begged for the spell to have hit a chair or a table or a wall, anything but a person.

"Hermione Granger!" Professor McGonagall shrieked. I winced and turned in her direction. The sight that met my eyes was enough to make me gasp and cover my mouth in shock.

I had turned Harry into a frog.

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: Now that the computer is FINALLY fixed, I can update this chapter to you. I’m halfway done with chapter five, which I intend to be the final chapter...unless you guys persuade me for more...

Anywho, I’m so, so, sooooo sorry this took so long. I should have chapter five up in no time, and then for all of you who still have faith in "Blood is Red" my writer’s block is slowly lifting and I should be posting more regularly in a week or two.

Chapter Four

The Wrong Prince

Anxiously I paced the doorway outside of the Hospital Wing as I had been doing for over an hour. If I had been in a humorous mood, I would have wondered how long it would take for me to wear a track of my footsteps into the floor, but my disposition was far from humorous. An hour and a half...ninety minutes...5400 seconds, and the only news I had was the occasional "poof" of a spell and a few choice words from Madame Pomfrey that I doubt consisted in the vocabulary of the most seasoned of sailors. My only companion was not doing a very proficient job at consoling her obviously stressed student...not that I could blame her...

"Brightest witch in the entire school," Professor McGonagall muttered darkly to herself as she paced the other side of the hall. Occasionally she would shoot me an irritated glance, roll her eyes and sigh just loudly enough for me to hear it. Then the muttering would presume and I would have to concentrate on tuning her out again. I understood that she was vexed with me for distrupting her class, but couldn’t she see that moments after realizing that I could probably never live without him, I had, in my hormonal stupor, turned my best friend into an amphibious green creature that could never possibly return the flashes of thoughts I dared to call feelings? Tear welled up in my eyes as I stopped my pacing and leaned helplessly against the door to the infirmary. If only I hadn’t been such a fool and let him kiss me at that bloody party, I would’ve been able to continue ignoring everything and he wouldn’t be a frog. I had just begun to wonder if in years to come he would tell stories of the traitorous Hermione Granger to hundreds of eager little tadpoles when Madame Pomfrey turned the handle of the door. I jumped away from it and stared at her eagerly, Professor McGonagall instantly at my side.

"Well, Poppy?" She asked anxiously. "How is he?"

Madame Pomfrey sighed. "He’s...very green," Our shoulders and faces fell, but the healer had more to say. "Transfigurations aren’t difficult to reverse, but this one has been tampered with. It was mutated from it’s original magic, and I haven’t been able to get under the skin of this new spell."

"Mutated?" Professor McGonagall sputtered. Madame Pomfrey nodded solemnly.

"I’m afraid so, Minerva."

"Miss Granger, where on Earth did you find this spell?" McGonagall demanded, rounding on me. My jaw went slack and a few irrational noises made themselves heard, but I couldn’t answer her. In truth, she had taught us the spell in our third year, but I didn’t remember altering the spell.

"The difference between Miss Granger’s spell and the original could simply be the flick of her wand, Minerva, you know that," Madame Pomfrey offered, and I was relieved to finally have someone on my side. "The good news is mutated spells show some parallel to the common cold; there is no cure, and they only go away when their course is run. Mind you, some spells take decades to wear off, but some only take a few days. We’ll give Mr. Potter a week, and if he hasn’t shown any improvement, we’ll send him to St. Mungo’s."

"Shouldn’t we send him to St. Mungo’s immediately, Poppy? Before the spell has a chance to establish roots in his system? Waiting could increase his odds at recovery," McGonagall said nervously, but Madame Pomfrey shook her head.

"I’m afraid that if we send him to St. Mungo’s now, they’ll use treatments on him that could hinder his recovery process and possibly leave permanent damage to Mr. Potter. We’ll keep him at Hogwarts for a week and see what happens."

"Can I visit him, Madame Pomfrey?" I asked eagerly.

"I don’t know if that would be a good decision, Miss Granger, considering the extent of the damage already caused on your behalf..." Professor McGonagall began, but Madame Pomfrey cut her off.

"Actually, he asked that he be allowed to see you, Miss Granger. He’ll be tired from my attempts to restore him to his original form, so you can’t stay long, but if you’d like to--"

"He asked if he could see Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked incredulously. "How did he manage that?"

Madame Pomfrey grimmaced. "I’m afraid the transfiguration was...not complete. You see, he--"

I had heard enough. Before Madame Pomfrey could finish her explination, I pushed by her and made my way through the Hospital Wing, looking for Harry. I found him in the last bed of the infirmary, and the sight that met my eyes made me falter on my way to his side.

"Oh, Harry..." I began softly. He was perched atop his pillow, very green like Madame Pomfrey had said, and very much a frog. Large and round green eyes stared soberly at me, and a messy tuft of black hair on top of his smooth head were the only recognizable traits of the human he had been two hours ago.

"Er-my-own-nee," he croaked hoarsely, and I wasn’t sure whether I should laugh or cry. I went to the head of the bed and knelt down by his side. With a small hop he turned to face me and smiled the best he could, given his new lips. "Madame Pom-frey sed I mi-ight be this w-ay for a w-hile."

"I know, Harry," I said as calmly as I could. His voice was deep and throaty, and hoarse croaks broke his words when he tried to speak. I felt a sob well in my own throat, and I attempted to stifle it. "I’ll bring you your homework every day, I promise I will."

He croaked, and I assumed it was how he laughed now. "That’s o-kay, Er-my-own-nee. I think I’ll man-age."

"Harry, I’m so sorry for turning you into a frog!" I cried unable to contain my anguish any longer. "I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you and snubbing you and I’m sorry about what happened at the party, and I’m sorry for what happened in my room last night, and...Harry?"

I sighed; he had fallen asleep. His eyes were closed and his chin was tucked against his chest, which swelled as he breathed rhythmically in his sleep. Biting my lip, I rose to my feet and silently left the Hospital Wing, wondering how long it would be this way until life went back to normal.

~*~

When I entered the Great Hall for dinner that night, evey head turned to watch me go by. I ignored everyone’s stares as best as I could, but I couldn’t dismiss their whispers.

"That’s Hermione Granger!"

"She turned Harry Potter into a frog in Transfigurations this afternoon!"

"I heard she’s seeing Seamus Finnigan, and Potter didn’t like it."

"Is that why she turned him into a frog?"

"She’s supposed to be an amazing kisser, though."

"Hey, Hermione!" someone called. I turned towards the voice, expecting a bombardment of questions. Instead, I was met with Seamus. He smiled charmingly and slid his arm through mine, then began towing me gently to two empty seats at the Gryffindor table. "Listen, love, about what happened earlier with Harry...I don’t think you should blame yourself for it. He’ll be fine in no time, just wait and see."

I smiled weakly as he pulled out a chair for me and I sank into it. "Thanks, Seamus." I looked around for Ron; I wasn’t used to sitting with anyone but him and Harry. To my surprise, he was across the room at the Ravenclaw table, talking animatedly with Luna Lovegood. Even more amazing was the fact that I felt absolutely nothing at the realization that he was interested in someone other than me. I stared at them silently for a few moments, and then I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. Luna and Ron...it was an insane combination, but something about it made sense. I was thinking of questions to ask him later when I was forced back to reality by Lavendar Brown.

"So, Hermione, Parvati and I have been meaning to ask you...what’s been going on between you and Harry these past few days? You two hardly ever argue, and today in Transfiguration, you shocked us all."

Statled at their concern, I looked blankly around at who was listening. The question had attracted the attention of (naturally) Parvati, Seamus, Ginny, Dean Thomas, and even Neville Longbottom. Before I could think about what I was saying, I answered Lavendar.

"It all started at the party, I guess. When he kissed me during Spin the Bottle, remember?"

Parvati laughed. "How could we forget? That had to be the steamiest kiss I’ve ever seen in my life," Suddenly, her face changed from interested to something almost sympathetic. "It was so odd...I mean, he’s always treated you like a sister. I’d see the way he’d look at Cho, and I never really saw that look in his eyes when you were around. I’m sure you were so confused for him to kiss you like that, Hermione, after such a platonic relationship between the two of you. Actually, I always figured it would be you and Ron who hooked up. Funny how life works out, hmm?"

I forced a smile on my face and nodded, angry at Harry again. Even if I had done it by accident, he deserved to be a frog after playing with my heart like he had. Parvati was right; I would never be anywhere close to what Cho had been to him. He had no right to put that much emotion into kissing me. Was he so blind that he couldn’t remotely see that I was interested in him? That he was severing our friendship by pursuing me if he had no intentions of actually being with me? Testily I stabbed at my dinner and ate in a simmering silence that kept the others from talking to me for the remainder of the meal.

When dinner had commenced, I got to my feet and left for my room, but Seamus’s hand on my arm stopped me. Before I could turn to look at him, he leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear. "So I hear you’re the Head Girl now, ‘Mione. I’ve always wondered what the Heads’ dorms looked like. Would you care to give me a tour later tonight? I’ll help you get your mind off of Potter."

Caught off of my guard by his words, I slowly looked up at him. He grinned suggestively down at me and raised an eyebrow. Butterflies exploded in my stomach, but not the kind of anticipation, the kind that came from...being with Harry. But...maybe I did need to forget Harry. I took a deep breath and nodded my head.

"Okay."

His smiled widened and he leaned down to kiss me swiftly. "Expect me around eleven," he said quickly, and then allowed himself to be swept away into the throng of departing students. I stood amidst them, and they parted around me like Moses and the sea. What on Earth had I just agreed to?

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: Well guys, this is the final chapter. I never meant for this to be an excessively long story; that’s what Blood is Red is for. If there are any loose ends I forgot to tie up, tell me so. If they’re pressing enough, I’ll consider writing an epilogue, just because you guys are the best reviewers in the whole entire world! Thank you so much for being patient with my random and sporadic updates. Keep reading!

Chapter Five

Breaking the Spell

The clock read 10:50. I paced the space in front of the fire nervously. I had lit about a billion candles and had curled my hair, but I wasn’t sure what you did to prepare for this kind of thing. I hadn’t been able to sit still since I returned to this room. I glanced down at the bit of chest my shirt left exposed; it was red and splotchy. It always did that when I was truly nervous about something, and I was certainly nervous now. I didn’t particularly want to bring Seamus in, but at the same time, I didn’t want to turn him away. I briefly thought of Harry, of his black hair in the wind as he played Quidditch, of the way he duelled, the way he smiled, how he made me laugh, the things we’d been through together...and how he was a frog now, and would remain that way for Merlin knew how long. Squeezing my eyes closed, I shook my head and mentally told myself that I had every right to see other guys if I wanted to. It wasn’t like Harry and I had ever been together...would ever be together...

There was a knock from the portal. I jumped and turned towards it, my hands covering my mouth. My heart pounded almost painfully beneath my chest, and for a moment, it was the only noise in the entire dorm. Should I answer it? Should I let him in, or should I ignore it and tell him in the morning that I had fallen asleep early? He knocked again, and before I could think about it any longer, I crossed the floor and opened the portal. Seamus smiled up at me.

"Hey there, beautiful. Mind if I come in?" And before I could answer him, he lifted himself through the entrance and stood in front of me, a wolfish grin plastered across his face. I forced a smile, and when he turned around to shut the picture, I took a deep breath to steady myself. When he turned back to face me, I smiled again and lead him into the actual dorm. His eyes grew wide as he took it all in.

"Wow," he breathed. I watched as his eyes landed on the staircase that lead to the loft...where the bed was located. "You have all of this to yourself?"

"Mmhmm," I answered.

He chuckled and looked back at me. "Almost makes me wish I had followed the rules when I was younger." I smiled again; it seemed that was the only response I could give him. He took in the fireplace, the rug, and the couch, then back at me. "Cozy place you’ve got here, Hermione. It’s almost...romantic, don’t you think?"

"Yeah," I said shakily as he took a step closer to me. Before I knew what was happening, he was kissing me intensely, his arms around me and holding me so close, it felt like I was being crushed. I tried to enjoy it, tried to kiss him back, but I...just couldn’t.

"Relax," he whispered, loosening his grip and moving his hands to my waist. "You’re so tense. You need to learn how to relax, Hermione."

And with that, he manuevered me back towards the couch. Hesitantly I let him, and as he lowered me back on it, I did my best at relaxing. I knew what would happen next, but that didn’t mean I was necessarily ready to open my eyes and see his face above mine. His body barely touched me, and yet the weight of him was nearly overwhelming. I was about to push him off and tell him to go when he began to trail his kisses over my jawline and then to my neck. He urgently pressed his lips against the skin beneath my ear, and I gasped and closed my eyes. I felt him smile against me and continue. He slowly moved down my skin until he reached the hollow of my neck. He kissed me hard, and when I gapsed this time, something else came with it.

"Harry," I whispered, and then instantly covered my mouth. Seamus stopped and pushed himself away to look down at me.

"Harry?" he asked. I took my hands away from my mouth and bit my lip, as was my habit.

"I’m sorry, Seamus..."

"It’s okay," he said in an apathetic tone I could tell was for my benefit. He rolled off of the couch and got to his feet. He made his way to the portal in silence, but he stopped before he could open it. He turned back to me, his eyes somber. "You know, he’s got it bad for you, Hermione. Maybe if you hadn’t been working so hard to change who you are, you would’ve seen that sooner."

With that, he left me alone to my own devices. I sat there on the couch, staring blankly at the portal, Seamus’s words ringing in my ears. "Maybe if you hadn’t been working so hard to change who you are, you would’ve seen that sooner."

"He’s right," I whispered to no one in particular. "He’s absolutely right." I had been desperately trying to change myself. I had been more concerned about what everyone else thought about me that I had lost sight of who I actually was, and in doing so, I had missed what was right in front of me the whole time.

With only one thought in mind, I launched myself to my feet and ran out of the dorm and through the deserted halls of Hogwarts. All thoughts of Gryffindor points and rules and duties and detention were erased from my brain as I streaked through the corridors. Irritated paintings called after me as I pounded past their frames and jolted them from their slumber.

"It’s nearly midnight!" Shouted a pudgy woman with curlers in her black hair shouted at me, but I hardly heard her. I took a staircase two steps at a time and skidded to a halt in front of the Hospital Wing doors. Hastily I swung them open and burst into the dark and quiet infirmary. Fortunately, Madame Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen. I made my way to the end of the room, where Harry was perched atop his pillow, his chin tucked into his chest, which rose and fell in a rhythmic, froggish swell. I fell to my knees by his side and reached out to stroke his smooth back. Almost instantly, his large green eyes blinked open and focused on him. His mouth curved into what I assumed was supposed to be a smile.

"Er-my-own-nee," he croaked softly. I smiled and touched his face gently.

"Yeah," I whispered as he closed his eyes again and leaned into my caress.

"I ho-ped to see-e you again," he admitted.

"I’m sorry I took so long, Harry," I said, my voice wavering as my eyes began to fill up. I took a deep breath to steady myself. "I wonder how we’ll turn you back into regular Harry."

"What ti-ime is it?" he asked.

"Almost midnight," I said, quoting the portrait.

He smiled again. "How fit-ting. Well, you could ki-iss me. That mi-ight work."

It was both a sob and a laugh that escaped my mouth. "Something tells me a kiss won’t undo all the mistakes I’ve made, let alone turn you back into a human."

"May-be I’m not the o-ne who ne-eeds to turn ba-ack into something I was be-fore," he said somberly as his round green eyes captured mine. My chin began to quiver and a single tear made its way down my cheek. Hesitantly, I leaned in closer to him and pressed my lips against his. Something warm and tingling leapt from my stomach to my heart. I wanted to recoil at the fact that I was kissing a frog, but my head was dizzy and fuzzy and all I could really focus on was...well, Harry.

I gently pulled away. I opened my eyes and gasped; there in front of me sat Harry like I had always known him; tall and skinny and human and perfect. Smiling, he swung himself off of the bed and reached down to me. He took my hands in his own and pulled me to my feet. There was so much I wanted to say to him in that moment, but the way he was looking at me made words impossible. He softly brushed a strand of hair out of my face and leaned down to kiss my forehead.

"It’s good to see you again, Hermione," he whispered when he pulled away. Fresh tears filled my eyes, but I somehow managed a watery smile. He returned it and leaned down again to lightly kiss my lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me, deepening the kiss as I did. He held me close and we lost ourselves in each other for that moment, and for what I hoped would be a very long time.

~*~

The next morning, when I entered the Great Hall for breakfast, my hair was back to its normal bushy self, and my robes no longer clung to my body. I carried my usual load of books with me and I sat down with my normal group of friends. As I passed through the rows of students, I felt their eyes and heard their whispers about my change, but that didn’t matter. I had just reached the Gryffindor table when Seamus stood up and blocked my path. My heart skipped a beat; would he be angry about last night and make a scene? We stared at each other for a moment, and then his face broke into a warm smile. He nodded silently and sat back down next to Dean and let me pass. Smiling, I made my way to my usual spot between Harry and Ron...well, it would’ve been that way, if Ron hadn’t been listening with rapt attention to Luna Lovegood over at the Ravenclaw table.

When I had set my books down, Harry slung his arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek, then handed me my morning copy of the Daily Prophet. I smiled at him and opened it with a sigh and snuggled next to him, happy and content with the knowledge that at least he would always be by my side to remind me of who I was when things went wrong.

And They Lived Happily Ever After

The End