The Greatest Mystery of All

Hey guys! This is my first shot ever at a fic. Any mistakes that you find are all my fault. I ask you to R&R, but that doesn't mean you hafta. Constructive criticism is appreciated.

*kisses*

lil_irish_girl

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“I hope you had a wonderful stay at the Wizarding Embassy hotel. Have a wonderful night!”

Ugh, Hermione thought as she pushed a strand of her now perfected ringlets out of her eyes. Why do I sound so perky now? I've been working for sixteen hours straight. No breaks, no lunch. And yet I'm finding myself completely and totally up and happy and smiling. I'm working four different jobs all in the same building. Why am I doing that again? Oh yeah, because I'm getting paid a shit load of galleons every month.

A person was walking towards the counter. It looked like a young man, but his hood was pulled over his head, so she couldn't see him. When he finally reached the counter, her brown eyes met his green ones.

“Hello,” he said, his smile friendly as he carefully took the hood off his head. “You don't have to say the speech that you normally give to new guests for me.”

“Thank you,” Hermione breathed. “What room would you like?”

“Any one you've got, really,” he replied. “So long as it has a view of Hogwarts, if that's at all possible.”

“Yep,” she said, typing some information onto the computer in front of her. “Let me just get you a key.”

She turned around to the key rack as her eyes grew wide in shock.

Oh my God, Hermione thought. Harry Potter- the man I haven't seen for ten years- is right in front of me and he doesn't recognize me. I suppose ten years has done a lot to my face, hair, and body.

She turned back around, a key in her hand. She placed it on the counter for him to take.

“That's room 123 to a Mr.--?”

“Harry Potter,” he said in an undertone so as not to be heard.

“To a Mr. Harry Potter,” Hermione repeated in the same undertone.

“Thank you very much,” Harry said as he turned around and began to walk off.

“I hope you enjoy your stay at Wizarding Embassy hotel!” she called after him.

Oh boy, she thought. This could be interesting.

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“Hermione...... Hermione...... HERMIONE!”

“Ugh. Yes, Mr. Smith?”

Hermione ran into her boss' office, completely out of breath.

“Hermione, I need you to get the entertainment committee down to room 123. The guest there would like to be entertained.”

“Um, OK,” Hermione replied slowly. “And who's the entertainment committee?”

“Oh!” Mr. Smith said softly, as if in surprise. “You are.”

“Me?” Hermione asked incredulously. “But when did I become the entertainment committee?”

“Just now,” Mr. Smith replied matter-of-factly. “I'm adding forty galleons a month to your salary. Now go up there right now, before he checks out.”

“Yes sir,” she mumbled before she turned on her heels and began to walk out. Then Hermione froze.

“Mr. Smith?” she questioned. “What room did you say I had to go to?”

“123,” was the reply.

Hermione sped out the door, thinking hard.

Holy crap, that's the room I gave to Harry. Oh, I pray to God he doesn't recognize me.

When she got to room 123, Hermione softly knocked three times on the door and took a step away from it, waiting. A minute later, the door was slowly opened and a mess of uncontrollable black hair peeked out.

“Entertainment committee at your service, sir,” she said, dipping into a curtsy. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” Harry replied, swinging the door wide. Hermione stepped in. “I'm sorry I made you wait,” Harry apologized. “The knock was so soft I wasn't sure if anyone was actually there.”

“It's quite alright,” Hermione replied. “I should have knocked louder. It's my fault.”

Harry took a seat on one of the queen beds in the room, and faced Hermione.

“Would you like to sit down?” he asked.

“Oh, no,” Hermione replied, shaking her head slightly. “I'd much rather stand, if that's alright. Now what would you like me to do? Juggle? Gymnastics?”

“Do you sing?” Harry asked somewhat hopefully.

“Yes,” Hermione replied. “Relatively well, according to my shower head.”

Harry laughed. “Would you sing for me?” he asked.

“Of course, sir,” she said. “What would you like me to sing?”

“Anything, really,” Harry replied as he ran a hand through his hair. “So long as it's music.”

Hermione thought about it for a minute, then decided to sing her favorite song.

Turn down the lights, turn down the bed

Turn down these voices inside my head

Lay down with me, tell me no lies

Just hold me close, don't patronize

'Cuz I cant make you love me if you don't

You cant make your heart feel something it won't

Here in the dark, in these lonely hours

I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power-

Hermione stopped when she saw Harry looking at her strangely.

“Hermione?” he asked softly- incredulously.

“Pardon?” she asked, deciding against revealing who she was.

Harry shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “That just reminded me of one of my best friends- and you look a lot like her.”

He still considers me his best friend, she thought, but what she said was, “What happened? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.”

“No, no, it's fine,” Harry replied. “That's the exact same song she sang to me back in my seventh year at Hogwarts- the last day of school, graduation. That's the exact same song she sang to me before she ran away. I haven't seen her for almost ten years and I still remember the song she sang to me. Isn't that pathetic?”

“Not at all,” Hermione replied. “I don't think it's pathetic, at least.” Then she decided to go out on a limb. “Do you miss her?”

“Every day of those ten years,” Harry replied slowly, looking up at Hermione. “I miss her so much. I miss having her to talk to- having her to laugh with, you know? It's not that fun when one of your best friends runs away without even a goodbye and you don't see them for ten years.”

“I suppose not,” Hermione said thoughtfully. I'm so stupid, she thought, I should have remembered that I sang that song to him ten years ago. “Well, if your entertained, then I should be going. My boss might have a fit.”

“Hey,” Harry said, stopping her. “Don't you work at the front desk?”

“I do that as well as five other jobs including this new one,” she replied.

“Whoa,” Harry said in amazement. “You probably would've given Hermione a run for her money- she's awesome at multi-tasking too.”

“I bet,” Hermione said as she inched her way to the door. “Well, I should probably get back to one of my jobs.”

Her hand was on the door knob when he stopped her again.

“Wait-” he said. “What is your name? And would you mind singing to me again tomorrow night?”

“My name is,” Hermione started, racking her brain for a name she could use. Mione- no. He called me that. Herms- no. Ick. Mia. Mia could work. “My name is Mia, and I would love to sing to you again tomorrow night.”

Harry smiled widely. “Alright then,” he said. “Around nine o'clock OK for you?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied automatically. “Nine o'clock would be fine. Well, goodnight Mr. Potter.”

The door was open when he stopped her yet again.

“Mia?”

“Yes?”

“Call me Harry.”

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There we go! First chapter. What did you think? Liked it, hated it? Somewhere in between? Please tell me!! Like I said up top, constructive criticism is appreciated.

I'll work on updating as soon as I can!

lil_irish_girl

Ahh! You guys are so sweet. I couldn't help myself, so I updated a little earlier than planned. I thank everyone who read my first chapter, and I also thank those who gave me constructive criticism- I figure it will only help me become a better writer. Enjoy!

*kisses*

lil_irish_girl

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“WHAT IS THIS?!”

“What is what, sir?”

“WHAT IS THIS BLOODY THING DOING ON MY DESK?!”

It was the next day in the late afternoon and Hermione was back in Mr. Smith's office, who was currently having a fit over a potted plant that had been placed there without his knowledge or approval.

“Sir, it's only a plant,” Hermione said soothingly. “I don't think it's terribly wise to make a big deal out of something that really isn't that important.”

“NOT IMPORTANT?!” Mr. Smith cried in outrage. “NOT IMPORTANT?! Listen, little-miss-muffet! Miss bowl of sunshine! Plants are slowly destroying the wizarding race! Did you know that?!”

“Sir, I'm sorry. I had no idea.”

“It's fine,” Mr. Smith replied, shaking off the apology. “Now- what was the reason you came in here for again?”

“Oh, that. Well, the guest in room 123 asked me to entertain him again tonight at nine o'clock and I was wondering if Shelly could fill in for me at the front desk while I entertain said guest.”

“What?” Mr. Smith asked, confused. “Oh. Yeah, sure. That'll work.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Hermione walked out of the office with her mind in a tizzy.

Harry said he misses me! But wait- I'm not supposed to be enjoying this. I ran away, remember? I made the decision ten years ago never to return to the chaos that my life was.

Then the real questions came up:

Do I still love him? Does he love me now? Oh I hope so. Wait- no I don't. He probably has a girlfriend, or worse- he's married. I'll have to look at his ring finger when I get to his hotel room tonight. But I don't care. Now it's out of pure curiosity.

Hermione had a major headache throughout the entire day.

9 o'clock:

Before she even had to knock, the door was opened and there was Harry.

“That was too freaky,” Hermione said as she walked into the room. “How did you know I was there?”

“You seem just like Hermione in the sense that you would never want to be late- always early or exactly on time,” Harry explained. “ So I figured; she'll probably be here at exactly nine o'clock and guess what? It's exactly nine o'clock. So I guess I was right.”

“I guess you were,” Hermione replied. “Now, what would you like me to do for you tonight?”

“Would you mind singing again?” Harry asked tentatively.

Hermione smiled. “Not at all,” she said. “Are there any requests?”

“Not tonight,” Harry responded. “Just sing anything you like.”

“OK,” Hermione said, then began to sing.

I guess I'm trying to say I'm sorry,

But it always comes out wrong.

I think a part of you still loves me,

even though we're moving on.

Always, all ways I wanted us to be,

Always, all ways you and me,

And I wait here on my own,

And I wait for you to see,

All the time I spend alone now, won't comfort me.

“That was beautiful, Mia,” Harry said after Hermione had stopped singing.

“Thank you, Harry,” Hermione replied shyly.

“Did you ever take singing lessons?” asked Harry curiously.

“No,” Hermione responded quietly. “My mother used to sing to me every night before bed, and I suppose I just kind of picked it up from her.”

“Well, it's amazing,” Harry said reassuringly. “You should try to go professional.”

“Oh, no,” she said as Hermione shook her head violently. “I couldn't do that.”

“Why not?” asked the young wizard. “Would your boyfriend miss you too much?”

“No, he wouldn't miss me. That's not it,” Hermione said as she watched Harry's face fall dramatically. “I mean, he'd miss me if he existed, but since he doesn't, I'm going to have to say that no, he would NOT miss me because I don't have one.”

“I see,” Harry said, thinking.

“So what are you doing here?” Hermione asked in curiosity. She took this opportunity to glance at his hand- no ring. “Doesn't your girlfriend hate being alone?”

“She would if I had one,” Harry replied. “But I don't. I'm here on official business regarding my job.”

They stayed like that in silence for a little while, then Hermione spoke.

“Can I ask what happened between you and Hermione, Harry?”

“Of course you can, Mia,” Harry answered. “Well, I'm going to tell you what I think happened, OK? Because obviously I don't know Hermione's side of the story. We met on the Hogwarts train, she was helping another friend of mine, Neville, look for his toad. We, Ron and I, saved her from a troll sometime during the school year and we've all been best friends ever since. Then sometime during seventh year, Hermione started acting kinda odd. I don't know why, but she was. Then during graduation, she sang me the song you sang last night, and then she ran away. I've been trying to figure out why she decided to sing that song, but I never could decipher it.”

Because I loved him, but I knew that he could never love me back, Hermione thought, but she said, “That's awfully sad.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking intently at the ground. “I guess it is. I never really thought about it as much as I did right now. Maybe she sang that song because she loved me.”

Way to go, Sherlock. “That could have been a possibility.”

“Well, then she had no reason to run away, because-”

This was all too much for Hermione. “I have to go,” she said suddenly, wildly thinking of a lie to get her out of there. “I just remembered that someone left the oven on and only I know how to turn it off.” She ran quickly out the door.

“Because I love her too,” Harry whisper-finished his sentence, fully knowing that no one was there. “I was going to ask her to marry me,” he murmured to the wall next to him. “But I never got a chance to ask her before she ran away. I will wait for you forever, 'Mione,” he silently promised her. “I just wish I knew where you were. If you're safe. I wonder what you're doing right now.”

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Kay, I'll update as soon as I can. Review and I might update faster! I have motivation when I get reviews!!

Over 500 hits and only 10 reviews? Come on, guys, I only wanna know what you think about the story. I'm getting a little discouraged... kay, maybe not. I'm gonna continue this thing until I'm finished AND I'm working on another story (which I plan on posting soon) you lot might enjoy. Here's the next chapter!

*kisses*

lil_irish_girl

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Hermione was currently getting yelled at by Mr. Smith. Apparently her lie was the truth- someone did forget to turn the oven off and she, apparently, was the only one who knew how to make it stop emitting little bursts of smoke. With a flick of her wand all noises coming from the oven stopped and Mr. Smith stared at her in awe.

“How do you always know the incantation for everything?”

“I suppose I've read a lot of books in my time,” Hermione replied modestly. “And everything pops up if you read enough books.”

“I guess,” Mr. Smith said. “Oh, that reminds me. Hermione- how goes the entertainment committee?”

“Very well, sir,” Hermione answered. “Mr. Room 123 has had me sing to him twice now.”

“Are you sure that's not just because he likes to look at you?” Mr. Smith inquired.

“Mr. Smith!” Hermione exclaimed, trying and failing to look annoyed as a blush crept up her cheeks. “I'm positive that Mr. 123 didn't ask me to sing to him again just so he could look at me. Who would want to? I'm so plain.”

“Hermione,” Mr. Smith said solemnly. “You are not plain. You're gorgeous. But I am happily married, so kindly do not tell my wife what I just said.”

The young witch laughed. “I won't,” she promised.

“I'm sorry for being such a pain this week,” Mr. Smith apologized. “But my ex-wife is in town and trying to sue me for everything I own. Including this hotel. But she won't get it, because I had it before I married her, so legally I am in the clear. That reminds me- I have to consult with my lawyer tomorrow and will be out of town for about a week. Would you mind running the place for me while I'm gone?”

“Me?” Hermione asked incredulously. “Why would you want me to run the hotel while you're gone?”

“Because,” Mr. Smith said bluntly. “You are my most dedicated employee, and I trust that you will do a magnificent job while I am in California with my lawyer.”

“Thank you, sir,” Hermione replied, honored. “I won't let you down.”

“Alright, then,” Mr. Smith said, his voice regaining it's briskness. “I will need you to stop by my office tomorrow morning at eight sharp to pick up the keys and the weeks plan so you know what to do. OK? OK. See you at eight.”

And he walked away in the direction of his office.

Wow, Hermione thought. I get to run this entire hotel for a week. What an honor. What a nightmare this is going to be if I'm not prepared. I'm going to have to find replacements for almost every single one of my jobs- every one except for the entertainment committee, of course. I wouldn't miss the opportunity to sing to Harry.

As she was thinking these things, Hermione ran into someone.

“Oh!” she whispered. “I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was-”

She looked up to find Harry looking down at her.

“-going,” Hermione finished quietly.

“My my my,” Harry murmured. “Isn't Mia a busy little bee?”

Hermione laughed softly. “Yes,” she answered truthfully. “But I just figured out that I'm going to be running this place for a week, so I have reason to be a “busy bee,” as you put it.”

“Oh, I see,” Harry replied, nodding. “Well, since Miss Mia is so stressed, would she like to accompany

me to lunch?” he held out his arm.

Hermione hesitated, then smiled and looped her arm through his. “Gladly,” she answered.

Loosely arm in arm, Harry and “Mia” walked down to the little restaurant in the hotel, called Le Petite Fromage. When they reached the entrance, the woman at the podium smiled politely.

“Hello,” she greeted them. “What table can I get you?”

“Table for two in the back please,” Harry answered with a smile. “Non smoking.”

“Right this way,” the woman said as she started back towards the non-smoking section.

When they were seated, they had ordered, and were waiting for their food to arrive, Harry began to make light conversation.

“So Mia,” he began. “Where did you go to school?”

“Hogwarts,” Hermione replied automatically, then regretting it immediately.

“Really?” Harry asked, bemused. “So did I. I wonder why I never saw you there.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid, Hermione chided herself. “Well,” Hermione started, wildly trying yet again to think of a lie that would get her out of dangerous waters. “I wasn't one to- stand out. I was there to learn magic, and that's what I did.”

“I see,” Harry said. “But you still look awfully familiar.”

No duh, I saw you every day. “I don't have much of a unique face- I look like a lot of people.”

Just then their food came: for Harry, a steak, and for Hermione, the house salad. When they had finished, Hermione made to get her wallet out of her purse, but Harry stopped her.

“It was my idea to take you to lunch,” Harry explained. “So I am going to pay for it.”

Reluctantly, Hermione let him pay. They left the restaurant and sat down on the couch in the main lobby.

“Thank you,” Hermione said. “That was wonderful. I needed that.”

Harry chuckled. “My pleasure,” he said. Then his face became puzzled once again. “I just wish I remembered where I've seen you before.”

No you don't, Hermione thought. “I don't think we've seen each other before.”

“You think I would've remembered a face like yours,” Harry said with a smile, his green eyes boring into Hermione's. She blushed and looked away quickly.

Yes, Hermione thought. One would think you remember what your best friends' face looks like.

“Well,” Hermione said as she quickly got up from the couch when she realized how close they were. “I should probably get back to my job. Thank you for lunch and I guess I'll see you around.”

She was about ten feet away from the front desk when Harry stopped her.

“Mia!” he said. She whirled around to find him about three inches from her.

“Yes?”

“Will you sing again for me tonight?” Harry's tentative look was just too adorable.

Hermione smiled. “I'd love to,” she replied sweetly.

Harry grinned. “Alright, then,” he said. “I'll see you at nine.” With that he bent down and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek, then hurried back up to his hotel room. Hermione walked to the front desk in a daze.

Did Harry just kiss me? she thought. I don't know what that means, but he kissed me! OK, I'm going to have to tell him it's me now. But how to do it? Oh! I know.....

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I know you wanna hit that pretty little review button over there and tell me what you think of this chapter...
Don't you wanna figure out how Hermione tells Harry it's her? Don't you wanna see his reaction??

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW!!! I absolutely adore hearing from you!!

*kisses*

Here we go! The last chapter. Will Hermione tell Harry it's her? Or will she run away again, like last time? Read to find out! I warn you- the ending is very cliché. Very, very cliché. Please don't kill me because of it, OK?

*kisses*

lil_irish_girl

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When Hermione reached room number 123, she knocked twice. When she heard a muffled “come in,” she pushed the door open slowly. Harry was lying on the bed on his back, his eyes closed.

“Are we tired?” she asked teasingly.

“What?” Harry mumbled, then jerked upright as his eyes focused on Hermione. “Oh, Mia, it's you. No, I'm not tired. I just needed a place to think and it was either the bed or the floor.”

“Well, you made a good choice then,” Hermione replied mock-seriously. “Because the floor is much too hard.”

Harry laughed.

“What would you like me to sing to you tonight?” the young witch asked.

“You can choose what you sing, Mia,” Harry replied. “I don't mind in the least bit.”

“OK,” Hermione said, nodding. OK, Hermione, she said to herself. You planned this. Now don't screw it up. She began to sing.

The strands in your eyes that color them wonderful

Stop me and steal my breath

And emeralds from mountains thrust towards the sky

Never revealing their depth

And tell me that we belong together

Dress it up with the trappings of love

I'll be captivated, I'll hang from your lips

Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above

And I'll be your cryin' shoulder

I'll be love's suicide

And I'll be better when I'm older

I'll be the greatest fan of your life.

When she stopped, Harry looked at her curiously.

“Why did you pick to sing that song, if I may ask?” Harry asked, still gazing at her, thinking hard.

“You can ask,” Hermione replied, choosing her words carefully. “When I was in school- Hogwarts, of course- my best friend had many nightmares. This was the only song to get him to sleep. This song was the first one I could come up with the first time he had nightmares and apparently it worked.”

Hermione sang me that song when I had nightmares, Harry thought. But that has to be just a coincidence. “What kind of nightmares did your best friend have?”

“He had nightmares about saving the wizarding world,” Hermione whispered in a barely audible voice. “He was the Chosen One, and one can guess how torturous nightmares about that can be.”

“Mia?” Harry asked. “Why-?”

“My name's not Mia,” Hermione interrupted. “It's-” Come on, spit it out. “It's-” Say it: Hermione Jane Granger. Hermione Jane Granger. Aren't you supposed to be a Griffindor?!? “Hermione Jane Granger,” she said in a hurried voice.

Harry sat there for a little bit, processing the words. Then his eyes grew wide. “'Mione?” he whispered.

“Yes?” Hermione answered, holding back tears.

“Oh, my God, I didn't recognize you! Merlin, I'm such an idiot. I should have recognized those eyes anywhere. Why didn't you tell me it was you in the first place?” Harry hurried off the bed, ran up to Hermione and gave her a hug while she cried openly on his shoulder.

“Oh, Harry,” she replied. “I was afraid. I decided that after I ran away I would never see you again because it would be too painful. And then you came here- where I work and I was overjoyed to see you. But all of my feelings came back and I knew that you would never feel the same way about me because you had Cho and Ginny and you could've had any other girl at Hogwarts, and I figured why would you choose me? So I sang you “I can't make you love me” at graduation and I ran away.”

Hermione slowly looked up to find that Harry was laughing softly.

“Yes,” she said quietly, pulling away from him. “I know it must sound silly and I knew that you would never feel the same way. So I'll just go now.”

She spun around and started walking towards the door when Hermione felt a hand on her arm.

“'Mione, no,” Harry said as he turned her around. “I'm not letting you go again.”

That being said, Harry crushed his lips to hers. Hermione moaned softly as she opened her mouth to him. Their tongues clashed greedily, each trying to devour one another. They broke apart a couple minutes later, each of them breathing heavily. They collapsed on Harry's bed, and he protectively wrapped his arms around her.

“Why did you run away?” he asked softly.

“Because I knew the feelings that I felt would never be the reciprocal,” she answered matter-of-factly. “But what you just did completely blew that out of the water. But I'm still wondering why you did that.”

“Because-” he began, his voice cracking slightly. “Because,” he tried again, now whispering. He gently kissed her temple, forehead, eyelids, cheeks, nose, and finally a soft kiss on her mouth. “Because I love you, 'Mione.”

Hermione gasped as she began softly sobbing.

“Hermione?” Harry asked as he gingerly wiped a lone tear from her cheek. “What's the matter? Baby, what's wrong? You know I can't stand to see you cry.”

“I'm not crying because I'm sad,” Hermione murmured as she kissed Harry on the lips apologetically. “It's just that I never imagined that you would be calling me baby, or telling me you love me. I love you, too, by the way. I just never thought it could be that way. That's the main reason why I ran away.”

“Sweetheart,” Harry said, using his finger to guide her chin up so that she was forced to look at him. “You didn't have to run away. I loved you back- I love you now. You could have saved us ten years of this- tension- between us. But I think I know a way to make up for it.”

He sat up and slowly got off the bed. Harry held out his hand to Hermione, who took it and soon they were both standing at the foot of the bed, facing each other.

“Hermione Jane Granger,” he began. “I love you with everything that I am.” he took her hands. “These hands are the ones that I want to be holding for the rest of my life.” he placed his hands on both of her cheeks. “This face is the one I want to be looking at for the rest of my life.” he put his hand on her stomach. “This is where I would like to put a baby.” he kissed her. “In the near future,” Harry added in an undertone that was just audible, making Hermione giggle. He got down on one knee and took her hand. “Hermione,” Harry said as he took out a small box made of velvet. “Will you marry me?” the box was opened to reveal a simple diamond ring.

Hermione's eyes shined bright with tears as she vigorously nodded her head. “Yes, Harry,” she said when she had regained her voice. “I would love to marry you.”

Grinning broadly, Harry scooped Hermione up so that he was cradling her like a baby- one arm around her shoulders, one around her knees. She nuzzled his neck lovingly. He groaned.

“You might want to stop that,” he warned, smiling.

“And what might you do if I don't?” Hermione answered, now showering his neck with small kisses. Harry lay her gently on the bed and straddled her.

“Because then I might have to just show you how much I love you.” he kissed her again as his hand snaked up underneath her shirt and began making absent-minded circles on her soft skin.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” the young woman whispered seductively as she pulled back slightly to look in his eyes.

Harry thought about this for a minute, then smiled. “A promise.”

“Till death do us part?”

“Till death do us part.”

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There we go! All done. Please review and tell me what you thought of it. I am now currently working on a new fic called “Thunderstorms,” which you should be seeing on portkey in the near future. Thanks to all of you who reviewed- I love you with all my heart!!