The Game

Ron looked at both of them one last time, not understanding. They were standing in the kitchen of the flat they shared together, Harry was sitting with a cup of coffee, Hermione had a cup of tea and several books spread out in front of her. It was clear she had been busy in her favourite activity, reading. Ron, standing by the door sighed. He had been so sure they would both be keen to join him.

“No,” Harry said again. “You and Luna go together. You'll have fun.”

“Why not?” Ron asked and Hermione stifled a small giggle.

“What's wrong,” she asked him. “Are you scared to go alone?”

Ron smiled. “No. I just thought you might like to join us. Picnics are supposed to be fun.”

“They are,” Harry agreed. “Thanks Ron. Thanks for thinking of us, but you should go and have a great time on your own. Just the two of you.”

Ron started again but Harry interrupted.

“You don't need us. You and Luna can have fun without us.”

Hermione smiled again and looked at Harry. She knew Harry had something on his mind and thought she knew what.

Ron suddenly understood. “You just want to be alone so you could snog!”

“No.” Harry said quickly and firmly. “We could do that anyway, even if you were here.”

“I know, I've seen,” Ron agreed.

“There will be no snogging while you are gone,” Harry told him.

Hermione shot him a puzzled look. This is what she thought the reason was Harry was so adamant he didn't want to join his friend. “No?” she asked him.

“No,” he smiled and replied.

Hermione looked at her boyfriend, now not sure what he was thinking, but she said nothing.

“Go,” Harry said for the third time. “Go and have fun and tell us all about it.”

Ron's shoulders slumped slightly in resignation. “Okay,” he finally accepted. “Okay I'm going. But if you change your mind you know where we'll be.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed. “If we decide later to join you we will. Don't fall into the lake again.”

Ron laughed, remembering last time and walked out the door.

Now alone Hermione watched Harry's expression. “So?” she asked him questioningly.

Harry's smile beamed. “So.” he replied.

“We're alone,”

He nodded, “I noticed.”

She paused a moment trying to read his expression. What WAS he planning? “No snogging?” she asked with a small giggle.

“No snogging,” Harry answered. “No snogging while Ron is gone.”

“So I have to wait till he gets back?”

“Maybe.”

“What if he doesn't come back?” Hermione smiled. She walked over him and sat in his lap and he gave her a slight kiss on the cheek.

Before she could say anything Harry stopped her. “That wasn't a snog. It was just a small kiss from boyfriend to girlfriend.”

He put his arms around her and hugged her.

“What are you scheming Mr Potter?” she asked accusingly.

“Just a little game Miss Granger,” her replied with smile.

“A game?”

He nodded.” An idea I've had for a few weeks now.

“Oh???” she asked now very curious.

“So, Mione,” he started, his smile could not be wider or more confidant. “How well do you think you know me?”

Hermione considered the question. She knew him very well, VERY well. They had been going out more than two years and the two of them lived together along with Ron in a small but adequate flat.

“Why?” she asked.

He shook his head and asked again “How well do you know me?” He smiled even wider.

“I know you Harry James Potter. I love you and I know you as well as you do yourself,” she replied. She waited for him to continue but he just looked at her. “What game?”

“Do you think you would know me anywhere?” his eyes danced with delight.

“Why?”

“Let me ask another question, what do you think of art?”

Hermione sighed and rose from his lap. She return to the table retaking her previous position. “If I knew you were going to be silly I wouldn't have gotten so excited at the thought of a game,” she told him.

Harry watched her for a short while as she returned to her books. “I was serious,” he said. “What do you think of art?” he asked again.

“Why?” Hermione looked at him, thinking it odd the way Harry spoke the word `art'. It was the first time he had spoken of anything like it. “Which art do you mean?”

Harry looked at her slightly puzzled. “Pictures,” he explained and now it was Hermione's turn to smile.

“Harry art is a very broad term. It can be used to describe anything from performance art to - -.”

“Pictures,” he said again. “You know, pictures of people and flowers and horses and things.”

She nodded. “What kind?”

He looked puzzled again.

“Modern art? Contemporary? Classical? Abstract?....”

Harry held up both hands and tried to stop her before she really got going. “Okay, okay.”

She smiled at him and waited for him to explain.

“The game,” he started “Is one where I look like somewhere else and you have to guess who I am.”

This had the effect of piquing Hermione's curiosity. “You have to be kidding.”

Harry laughed “Not at all. I'll be in a public place but I'll look like someone else.”

Hermione considered this. “Will you sound like someone else?”

Harry nodded. “You can talk to the people around you and ask what you like. You just can't touch me or anyone you think might be me.”

“Why can't I touch you?”

“Because that will have the effect of breaking the Disillusionment Charm I'm going to use to look like someone completely different. As long as you don't touch anyone you'll have to rely on how well you know me to find me.”

She raised an eyebrow “And where is this game to be played?”

“The National Gallery of London.”

Hermione looked at Harry like he had just gone mad. “Are you mad???? Do you know how big that place is or how many people walk in and out every day??? I could spend a week there and never even see you.”

Harry paused and realised she had raised a valid point. “Okay. I'll remain in one room.”

“Do you even know where it is?” Hermione looked at him and wondered how long Harry had concocted this little `Game'.

He nodded “Trafalgar Square. I had a look at it a month ago.”

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“Why what?”

“What made you go to the National Gallery?”

Harry smiled, thinking it was understandable that he would not normally be caught dead in such a place. “Remember when I submitted my Auror application to the Ministry?”

Hermione nodded.

“I had some time to kill and had a look around.”

“Harry,” Hermione said in a quiet voice, “Start again, from the beginning.”

“Okay. I will be in one room of the Gallery looking at the pictures, as will lots of other people. Just give me two hours head start and you can go to the place I am and watch the people there. I'll walk around as If I'm someone else; maybe I'll wander in and out, but you have to guess who I am.”

Her brow knitted as she considered the game. “What are the rules?”

“Find me, that's all. Make any conversation with anyone you like but don't touch anyone, and give me two hours head-start.”

“How am I supposed to get there?”

“The same way I will,” he said, indicating he had given the matter some thought “Use the Night Bus.”

Hermione nodded, knowing she could easily reach the Gallery in that manner. “You can't perform a Disillusionment Charm anywhere near powerful enough to fool anyone Harry.”

He agreed with that point. “I know, I'm not going to cast it.” His eyes indicated he was very much enjoying explaining the game.

“Who is?” Hermione asked.

“Griselda Marchbanks.”

Hermione paused, waiting for Harry to go on.

“She is - “Harry started but got no further.

“I know who she is, how do you know her?” Hermione wanted to know.

“I don't,” he explained. “She is a friend of Neville's Aunt. She was at his place when I saw him two weeks ago. She was telling us about the Disillusionment Charm Lucius Malfoy used to try and escape capture after Voldemort was killed.

Hermione nodded, she was there.

I owled her, explaining what I had in mind and she said it sounded like fun.”

Hermione just looked again, now realising how much thought had gone into this game.

“She also said,” Harry continued “That after speaking with Headmistress McGonagall that she has no doubt you'll determine who I am as long as there aren't too many people to choose from.”

Hermione smiled at the complement from someone she had never even met.

“McGonagall even added that I was mad to try.”

Hermione now laughed and went back to him.

“How long have you been planning this?”

“Since I submitted my application. If I'm going to be an Auror I have to be able to detect and use Disillusionment Charms. I am going to apparate to Neville's place; Marchbanks is staying there. Then I'll Night Bus to the Gallery.”

Hermione considered all Harry had said, she knew she would look forward to the game.

“Which room will you be in?”

Harry paused and thought. “I don't know. You tell me. Have you been there before?”

She nodded again, remembering the last time she visited several years before. “Impressionists,” she said.

“Huh?” Harry asked not understanding and now Hermione's smile widened.

“Impressionism is a form of art, ask someone when you get there. Walk around, wander in and out whatever you like and I'll find you.”

“How?” he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I know you.”

“No magic?”

“I won't need magic to find you Harry, and I won't touch anyone either.”

“So,” he said again “You accept?”

Hermione didn't even have to think “I accept!”

Harry removed his wand and was about to Disapparate before Hermione stopped him.

“Hold on, what do I get if I win?” Hermione asked.

The game, Harry had thought about. The rules her had also thought about. The terms he hadn't. “What do you want?”

She smiled more. “A kiss.”

Harry looked at her questioningly. “That's all? A kiss?”

She nodded

“Okay agreed, if you win you get a kiss. and if I win I get a kiss.”

Hermione giggled.

“So it looks like it doesn't really matter who wins in the end,” he said.

“I guess not,” she responded. “But I'll still win.” Hermione looked at him confidently.

“We'll see,” he told her. “Two hours head start?”

Hermione nodded and now Harry waved his wand. He gave a quick wink and a `CRACK' noise filled the space where he stood.

***

Hermione walked up the stairs of the Getty Entrance of the National Gallery. She laughed at the thought of Harry having to ask someone where the Impressionist Collection was held. Although Hermione didn't know exactly where it was she would find it easily enough after scanning the information map in the foyer.

She had spent the trip in on the Night Bus considering what kind of disguise Harry would wear. She knew Griselda Marchbanks by reputation alone and was aware how very strong her magic was; much stronger than Hermione's. The Disillusionment Charm she cast would be very strong indeed. But Hermione tried to follow what Harry's reasoning would be. He would initially opt to look like someone almost his exact opposite. Harry would first consider an old woman. Hermione laughed as she then followed what Harry's next thought pattern would be. He would know Hermione would know he would try to look too different, and as a result he would try to look less opposite. Then Harry would wonder if Hermione would also follow THAT reasoning and choose the old woman again. At this point Hermione stopped thinking and just assumed she would rely on Harry just being himself to find him. She knew she would find him.

There were many people walking about at a leisurely pace and Harry spotted her instantly she walked towards the room he was in. He turned slightly as if engrossed by a particular picture of something he was unable to determine as Hermione walked right by him and so she didn't see his sly smile. Harry knew she wouldn't find him.

All up there were about 8 or 9 people in the room at that time, as Hermione made her way to the first picture of the display. She had already decided she may as well enjoy looking at the art as long as she was there, although she wasn't convinced she would see every picture before she found him. Hermione didn't think it would take long.

A couple of school girls wandered past her, looking obviously bored and so Hermione was able to discount them immediately, as she did a mother pushing a toddler in a stroller. Even Hermione wouldn't have been clever enough to think of that disguise. That left 5 people, all male, and all individually inspecting the pictures at different places throughout the room. Hermione walked near the elder gentlemen nearest her and smiled, watching as he smiled back. She considered the smile and instantly decided that wasn't him.

Hermione was now beaming as she was thoroughly enjoying the game, and minutes later was standing near a second boy, someone near her age. He was looking at a work by Renoir, depicting a row boat with 2 women rowing across a peaceful river.

Hermione looked at the boy “Do you like it?” she asked referring to the painting.

The boy smiled at her. “It's okay,” he said but clearly wasn't interested. Hermione considered the boy's words. Harry may be using a different voice but he would use the same types of speech. Hermione mentally crossed him off her list and continued on.

She continued on and found another elder gentleman perusing Manet's `Music in the Tuileries Gardens'. Hermione smiled and addressed him “Where are the Tuileries Gardens?” she asked.

“Paris,” the man replied. “I've even seen them, they are still there.”

Hermione smiled at the man and thanked him. That clearly wasn't Harry. Harry would struggle to know where Paris was.

That left only 2 people to choose from and Hermione slowly walked to the first.

The man was tall, he must have been nearly 6 feet, and he walked with the aid of a wooden cane. Hermione watched as he walked and thought the slight limp he had looked very real. She stopped before one of Monet's most famous works and silently watched it. The man stood at her side, and offered a polite smile as he too looked at the picture.

“Monet,” Hermione said simply, waiting for his response.

The man nodded “Yes. It is very nice.”

Hermione studied the man's face looking for a clue, this may or many not be Harry. “What style bridge is it?” she asked.

The man turned to her and joined in conversation. “Japanese I believe. It is the Garden at Giverny. Money liked to paint the same scene several times during the day to see how it looked under different light.”

Hermione smiled again, crossing this man off her mental list as well.

She slowly approached the last man, who was sitting on a long lounge, staring at a picture of a ballerina. As she walked near the man he suddenly stood up, bumping into her.

“Oh,” the man said “I'm so sorry.”

“Not at all,” Hermione replied.

The man continued walking about the room and Hermione considered what had happened. He had bumped into her and there was nothing she could do to stop it so it meant he couldn't be Harry. What is more Hermione was sure Harry couldn't accuse her of breaking the rules. She had been in the room for maybe 15 minutes, and noticed the only people who walked in after her walked straight through without stopping to the next collection. That meant she had already passed Harry.

She walked back to the last gentleman, the tall one with the walking cane, and saw he was still looking at the Monet. Hermione remembered his response to her. He turned to her and smiled, and Hermione knew. He turned his face back to the picture and did not see Hermione's reaction.

Hermione slowly steadied herself and walked around to the other side of the man, as if she was about to move off. “I like this one best,” she told him and he smiled again, very sweetly. Hermione took one step away before turning back slightly.

“Lets see the post modern works Harry,” she said.

“Okay, - - “ and Harry made to follow before he realised what she had done.

Hermione laughed and had to restrain herself form touching him. It would be difficult to explain to all the Muggles in the room how an elderly gentleman suddenly turned into a teenage boy.

“How did you know?” Harry asked aghast. “I had the limp down perfect!”

“I know,” Hermione agreed, still laughing.

“I even remembered what the tour guide said about the picture,” Harry said.

“You were very convincing.” Hermione was laughing even harder.

“How????”

Hermione walked away and Harry, pretence of limp now no longer required, scampered after her. She darted around a corner and Harry followed. She found a secluded spot away from all eyes and waited for Harry to join her. As he caught up with her she was in his arms and now the familiar form of Harry was returned.

“How did you know?”

She smiled at him. “I know you Harry. I'd know the look in your eye and your smile anywhere. I can't wait to tell McGonagall and Marchbanks how quickly I found you.” She laughed and Harry shook his head, not believing how easily she had found him.

“That man who bumped - -.” Hermione started but Harry stopped her.

“It's okay, I saw. He bumped into you.”

She nodded. “I'd know you anywhere.”

Harry sighed, accepting defeat. “You win,” he said simply.

“I win,” Hermione agreed.

Harry shrugged and smiled, remembering the prize. “A kiss I believe,”

Hermione beamed “A kiss.”

Harry held her and kissed, long deep and sweet. Some part of his mind told him that if he HAD to kiss her (and he never ever minded) it would be a good one.

The kiss ended as they both needed breath and Hermione's eyes dazzled.

“I believe you owe me a kiss,” she told him and laughed at Harry's confused look.

“What was that?”

“Just a kiss. Oh - I'm sorry,” Hermione said with a mischievous look. “Did I forget to mention? I wanted a perfect kiss. That one was okay but you'll have to keep trying until you get it perfect.”

Harry shook his head and laughed. “Perfect kiss?”

She nodded. “It may take a while,”

He grinned at her. “I hope so.”

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