Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

Authors Note: Okay, before you all start throwing rocks at me, I assure you that Hermione will become more like the Hermione we know soon. So hang in there and support the poor Hermione who has the self-confidence of a crippled butterfly. Hope you like the Harry/Hermione interaction. Tell me what ya think. Oh, and those waiting for the Draco/Ginny stuff, hang in there, it's coming.

Also, a lot of people have been asking me why Harry doesn't know Hermione already. The fact is, Harry hardly knows anyone. He's not a very sociable person. To put it bluntly, he doesn't care about anyone outside of his radar. His focus is on becoming powerful enough to defeat Voldie. But Hermione caught his interest and entered his radar, so...you get the picture. It might be a little cold, but that's the reason. Not to mention, did you know everyone in your school? I certainly didn't. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter Six

The next day found Harry heading to Charms with Draco, followed way too closely by Pansy and Heather, their collective stalkers. Before Harry and Draco could reach the classroom, however, they were intercepted by a younger Slytherin boy that Harry thought was called Harper, but he couldn't sure. Harper stopped before him and handed out a small slip of parchment. Harry took it.

"When are you holding Quidditch try-outs?" Harper asked, whilst Harry started reading. Harry pointed half-heartedly at Draco, who opened his robes to reveal the shiny Slytherin Captain badge. "Oh, I thought you'd get it Potter."

"He did," Draco drawled, "but the dope sent the badge back."

"So you got it instead," Harper realised.

"Obviously," Draco retorted sarcastically. "As for try-outs, I'm holding them this weekend."

"Okay," Harper replied, then took of at a run, "later."

"Like hell I'd ever let that guy on the team," Draco snorted. "Idiot."

"Meeting with Dumbledore Saturday night," Harry replied, pocketing the piece of parchment.

"What'd you think he's going to teach you?" Draco asked, as they continued their walk to Charms.

"No idea," Harry replied, looking thoughtful.

(----)

The rest of the day passed in a blur, Harry too caught up in thinking about Dumbledores special lessons to even pay attention to his regular ones, even going so far as to fall asleep during Arithmancy, but could you blame him?

When seven o'clock rolled around he found himself sitting in Slytherins Chamber, attempting to do the extra Arithmancy homework Professor Vector had set him when she caught him sleeping. He wasn't doing very well. Deciding he didn't have the right book, he got up and grabbed his cloak, stuffed the rest of his books into his bag and left the hidden chamber, heading up to the Hogwarts Library.

He arrived and began to search for the correct book towards the back of the Library, out of everyone's way. Most of the student body stuck around the entrance to the Library, as if afraid they'd get lost in the stacks and never find their way out, choosing to sit at the front tables. But Harry liked it that way; it just made the back of the Library quieter, which was perfectly fine by him.

He started to look through the rows of books on Arithmancy, finding everything but the one book he wanted, which was typical. He found Arithmancy for Squibs, Arithmancy and Why We Need It, and even New Theory of Numerology, which Harry knew was a complete waste of time, he'd read it.

Sighing, he turned around and leant against the stacks, and in doing so spotted the ever-familiar head of Hermione Granger. Harry didn't stop to think how odd it was that now that he'd really seen her, he kept seeing her everywhere, when they'd been going to the same school for five years and he hasn't even noticed her once.

He walked around the stacks and leant against the end of the last one, watching as she worked at a really long piece of parchment, scribbling away with quill, her back to him and her bushy hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was hunched over the table, her nose almost touching the parchment, and Harry found himself grinning at the sight.

After having his fill of watching her work, he walked around, silently, his feet not even making a sound, pulled out a chair and sat down right across from her. She still hadn't noticed him. He had way too much practise at not being seen; even he had to admit that.

She continued to scrawl away at the parchment, not even looking up, just continually writing, only stopping to re-ink her quill. Didn't she need to check her facts? Watching her work, Harry decided, apparently not. She really was the smartest witch in the year, probably the school. She finally stopped, sighed, and sat up straight, her eyes widening at the sight of Harry sitting in front of her. He quill fell from her hand and landed on the parchment.

"You should really pay more attention," Harry advised, "I know its Hogwarts, but it's still not entirely safe."

Hermione ran a hand over her hair and looked around, as if looking for someone to come and save her, and Harry frowned.

"Hey," he said, getting her attention again. "Why so jumpy?"

"Not Jumpy." Hermione said shyly. "Did you... want something?"

Harry shrugged. "Figured we could talk."

"Why?"

Harry laughed softly and unknowingly sent shivers up and down Hermiones spine. "Okay," he leant forward, resting his elbows on the table, "maybe because I find you interesting."

"Interesting?"

"You ever going to form a complete sentence?" Harry asked with good humour.

"I just don't understand why you're talking to me, that's all." Hermione snapped, her hidden passion getting the best of her, but quickly dying down, leaving her blushing and staring at the table. "Sorry." She mumbled.

"It's okay," Harry replied. "I'm talking to you because, like I said before, I find you interesting. Is that so hard for you to believe?"

"I-I...I don't know," Hermione mumbled, and he could tell she was feeling stupid. "I guess."

"Then how's this," Harry put his bag on the table and pulled out his books, notes and quill, "I sit here. You sit there. We study. If you want to talk, you talk, okay?"

Hermione nodded.

"Okay." Harry dropped his bag to the floor and turned his attention to his parchment.

Hermione watched him for a short time, and then went back to her own work, every now and again glancing up and catching Harry watching her with a small smile on his face. After nearly an hour of studying, she looked up and caught his eye again, her cheeks turned pink. Harry couldn't help but find it adorable. He was surprised when she spoke.

"Aren't you going to do your homework?" she asked softly.

Harry glanced down at the parchment he had hardly touched and then back up at Hermione. He shrugged.

"I'm stuck."

"Stuck?" she asked, confusion marring her features, creating a line between her eyebrows that made her look even more beautiful. Harry smiled at her again. He probably looked like a spaz, but he couldn't help it. She just made him want to smile.

"I don't have the right book," Harry told her, "and before I could find it, I found you, and you're infinitely more interesting than a dumb Arithmancy book."

"Arithmancy?" Hermione asked, over looking the compliment. "It's my favourite subject. I could... help you... " She trailed off and Harry knew she was feeling stupid again.

"I'd like that." he replied quickly, and smiled at her when she looked at him, glad that she smiled back this time, albeit a little shyly.

"When do you need to hand your homework in?" she asked, quickly forgetting about her nervousness around Harry Potter.

"I've got until next week," Harry replied, "so it's no rush."

"Oh," Hermione looked thoughtful, "what book is it you need? I might have it."

"Mmm..." Harry tried to remember the title. "I think it was called Numerology and the Number Twelve. Definitely something to do with twelve."

Harry was glad to see Hermione grinning at him bashfully, her white teeth clearly showing, and her cheeks forming the cutest little dimples. "I have it." She said.

"Great," Harry announced, "You're a life saver Hermione."

Hermione turned scarlet quickly and ducked her head again.

"I can call you Hermione, can't I?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded her lowered head, then frowned when Harry's hand appeared in front of her face, and she looked up at him curiously.

"And you can call me Harry." Harry told her, giving her an encouraging grin. She smiled back and shook his head. Harry enjoyed the feel of her small soft hand in his rough one and didn't want to let go, but that probably would have scared her off, so he let go, albeit reluctantly. Sitting back in his chair, he watched her as she riffled through her bag and brought out the book he needed.

"Here." She handed it to him and Harry took it, making sure to brush his fingers with hers.

"Thanks a lot," Harry opened the book and began looking through, trying to find the passage he remembered. After looked for over ten minutes, he gazed over the top of the book and saw Hermione working diligently again. He set the book down but kept his finger lodged between the pages so he wouldn't loose his place. "Is Arithmancy really your favourite subject?"

Hermione looked up, caught his eyes and nodded, still blushing a little. "You don't like it?" she asked after a short while of just looking at him.

"Nope," Harry replied, "It's too finicky. Don't get me wrong, I understand it, but it's really not where my interest lies."

"Oh," Hermione nodded in understand, "then...where does it?"

"My interest?" How about staying alive? He thought sarcastically, but decided not to say that. "Let's just say it's not on number problems and numbers in relation to magic."

"Okay," She cast her eyes down again and Harry sighed.

"I'm not upset you know," he told her, "you don't have to cower like that."

"I'm not cowering," Hermione mumbled.

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am...not." Hermione couldn't help herself, she giggled. Harry grinned at her and she covered her red face with her hands, still giggling.

"See," Harry said, "I'm not so bad am I?"

"...No." Hermione admitted, after getting control of herself.

Silence fell again, as the two went back to working comfortably, the only sound being the scratching quills. Finally, Hermione closed her books and rolled up her parchments, beginning to stick them in her bag.

"Going so soon?" Harry asked, giving Hermione his best kicked puppy look.

Hermione hid a smile behind hand and nodded her head. "Sorry, but I said I'd help my friend with some stuff."

"It's okay," Harry said, standing up and reaching across the table to grab her bag. She reached for it and he pulled back, just out of reach. "Promise to meet me here tomorrow night at seven?"

Hermione gave him a long, searching look, before smiling bashfully again and nodding her head. "Okay."

He gave her the bag and made to give her the book she had leant him, but she shook her head. "Its okay, you can borrow it." Hermione murmured.

"Thanks," Harry said, putting the book down again. "So, see you tomorrow?"

Hermione made a noise in agreement and turned to walk away.

"Bye Hermione."

She stopped, turned her head and gave him another small smile. "Bye...Harry." And she turned and left.

Harry sat down, smiling, pleased with himself. He quickly finished off his homework, stuffed Hermiones book gently in his bag and left the Library, looking forward to seven tomorrow.

(----)

Hermione practically ran all the way up to Gryffindor Tower, blurting out the password to the Fat Lady and running through the entryway, only stopping when she reached the common room, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She just couldn't believe she'd studied with Harry Potter.

She made her way up the stairs to her dormitory, feeling like she could faint at any moment, but at the same time kicking herself for being such a girly girl, falling all over herself like some lovesick puppy. He's just a boy. Nothing special. Except Harry was special.

She made her way to her bed, glad that Parvati and Lavender weren't around, closed the curtains around her bed and sat down with a sigh. Hermione was confused. She had been dying to meet the Harry Potter ever since she read about him before her first year, but when she did meet him, it didn't go exactly like she planned. He blatantly ignored her. Well, he blatantly ignored most people, to be honest. But tonight, he had seemed determined to get to know her? Why? What had changed? Was it some sort of prank he and his Slytherin friends were playing on her?

Hermione felt tears come to her eyes at the thought, but quickly banished them, shaking her head and wiping at her teary eyes. It was just stupid and pointless to cry. She had to figure out what was going on. Why was the most mysterious boy at Hogwarts suddenly interested in plain old Muggle-born Hermione Granger? Why, when he didn't show an interest in anyone else?

Hermione heard sounds coming from downstairs and then Lavenders voice came ringing through the door. Hermione quickly crawled under her covers and curled up into a ball. Lavender made a whole lot of racket, obviously looking for something, and then Hermione heard Parvatis voice. They started talking in hushed tones that grew dimmer and dimmer until the door closed again with a snap. Hermione sighed. She wished she had friends who would understand, but all she had was Neville.

But Hermione didn't have female friends; she only had herself, so she shook her head again and started to think, trying to figure out what to do next. The facts were simple, Harry apparently liked her, but whether it was real or not, she didn't know. She clearly had a crush on him, how else could she explain her over the top emotions and the fact that she couldn't even look at him without turning red.

So did she show up tomorrow, like she had promised? Or did she stay away and hope that he forgot about her? Did she really want him to forget? She didn't think so. She had dreamt and fantasised about Harry for a long time.

But this isn't a fantasy Hermione, a knowledgeable voice in the back of her head told her. This is real life and you could get hurt.

A lot of people thought that Harry was dangerous. She had heard Ron Weasley tell his friends Dean and Seamus that Harry was a Dark Wizard, he was sure of it. Did she believe him? Surprisingly, she didn't. She couldn't understand why, but she wanted to trust Harry.

Why not? I have nothing else going for me, Hermione thought, and so if it just turns out to be a cruel joke, who cares? Hermione smiled to herself, burying her head into her pillow. She was going to take a chance. She was going to trust the warm, kindhearted boy she had talked to today. She was going to trust Harry Potter.

(----)

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