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Perfect Fit by Phoenix-Angel
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Perfect Fit

Phoenix-Angel

Hermione opened her eyes to bright sunshine, an arm draped loosely across her stomach, and a warm body pressed against her back. Suddenly, the previous night came back to her in a rush, causing a smile to play across her face. She turned around and dropped a gentle kiss on Harry's forehead and saw that he was sleeping peacefully, his breaths deep and even. She smiled again and turned back around. She carefully removed his arm, and started to sit up, when his hand pulled and she was back in the position she had started. She groaned silently and glanced at Harry. He was smiling now. She laughed quietly and tried to remove his arm again, but he pulled once more so she was closer to him than before. She could tell he was feigning sleep.

"Harry!" she exclaimed softly.

"Mmm," he mumbled.

"Stop, Harry! Get up!" she said, smacking his arm playfully.

"I'm tired, Hermione!" he groaned, burying his face in her neck.

"So what? I'm not! At least let me go!" she replied, giggling. His breath was tickling her neck.

"Well, I am. So I'm not getting up. Besides, it's a holiday! And plus, you're warm and cuddly," he replied, muffled. He pulled her closer to him.

"So, I'm your teddy bear now?" she asked. He laughed and looked at her.

"Yep." he grinned.

"I don't think so, Harry Potter. Go cuddle with Dobby. He seems to love you," she retorted, laughing.

"Ugh. No offense, I like Dobby and everything, but he's really not my type," he answered, face twisted into a disgusted expression. He propped his head on his hand, still on his side, and looked down at Hermione.

"Really? What IS your type, then?" she demanded, amused.

"Well," he mused, "first, they have to be human. And a girl." She laughed.

"Maybe Pansy Parkinson, then?" she suggested.

"God, NO! Besides, I think she and Malfoy make a cute couple. Ugly and ugly," Harry answered.

"Well, maybe Moaning Myrtle is more your style," she proposed.

"Its kind of hard to do anything with someone who DOESN'T exist anymore! Even though she was kind enough to offer me a toilet next to her," he commented. She laughed.

"Besides, I don't really like any other girl except one," he added more softly.

"And who might this mystery girl be?" she played along, knowing very well what his answer was.


"Well, she's gorgeous, and she's really smart, and she's extremely sweet, and not to mention an incredible kisser," he answered thoughtfully.

"Wow. Sounds like quite the catch," she said, studying him.

"She is. I'm really lucky to know her and be with her," he said, looking into her eyes. She felt like she could lose herself in his bright green eyes.

"Does your scar still hurt?" Hermione asked after a brief pause.

"No. Not anymore," he responded.

"Good," she whispered, running her fingers delicately over his forehead and brushing away his hair from his eyes. Harry leaned in and touched her lips with his own, making her tingle all over. Suddenly, there was a noise like a whip-crack, and a small, raggedy-looking thing with round eyes popped in next to Harry's bed. Harry immediately pulled away and shouted, "Dobby!"

Hermione gasped and turned a deep shade of red.

"I-I... I have to go brush my, um, teeth," she mumbled. She got up quickly and in her hurry, tripped over the presents piled on the floor next to the bed and almost fell.

"Its OK! I'm all right!" she said hastily and bolted for the door. Harry, however, didn't have the option of doing that. He sat rooted to his bed, embarrassed beyond his years.

"So sorry, Harry Potter, sir! Its eleven in the morning and Winky told me to go make the beds in the boys dorms, sir! I's so sorry!" Dobby wailed. Then, he turned to Harry's 'Flying With The Cannons' book and slammed it against his forehead repeatedly, yelping after every blow. Harry scrambled out of bed and went to the other side of it, seizing the book in mid-blow and ripping it out of Dobby's hand. The small house-elf looked up at him with big watery eyes.

"Its really all right, Dobby. Nothing to worry about. And you don't have to do that anymore, remember? You're not at the Malfoys. Its OK to make mistakes," Harry reassured. Dobby nodded rapidly and sniffled.

"If you say so, Harry Potter sir," he said softly, then started snapping from place to place, cleaning things up and making the bed at lightning speed. Harry sighed and reached for the presents. He ripped the first one open. It was from Hagrid, a box full of cauldron cakes. Harry smiled at the card Hagrid had made by himself, that read: Merrie Christmas, Harry. Hope youre Christmas is filled with a thousand joys.

Ron's was next. It was Harry's very own Wizard's Chess set, the pieces gleaming like the board. The note on top read:

Harry ~

Happy Christmas! Practice with this. Maybe one day you'll beat me (not likely though, mate.)


Ron

Harry laughed at this, and opened the adjoining box to find Mrs. Weasley's famous sweaters, this time in a light green with an H on the front, along with homemade fudge. The box also contained a box of Jumping JellyBeans and Giggly Gummy Worms, care of Fred and George. Harry set those aside and opened Hermione's present, expecting a book.

It was beautiful. Harry held in his hands a small box, which held a crystal rose. The flower had been so intricately constructed that if it hadn't been made of crystal, Harry could've sworn was a real flower. The stem was a light translucent green, the leaves a darker translucent green, and the petals... the petals were the most radiant part of the whole flower. Each layer of the rose was a different color, and the colors kept changing. Harry watched it, and didn't see the same color twice. It was emitting silver glittery sparks from the edges. Tucked to the side was a small note:

Dear Harry ~

I wanted to give you something special, something besides a book. Happy Christmas!

Love, Hermione

P.S. Look on the stem for a surprise!

Harry was almost afraid to touch the gorgeous rose. He set the note aside and slowly opened the lid. He reached in and gently lifted the rose out and raised the stem to his eyes. Amongst the green, he could see small red letters: For each other: H.G. and H.P. Harry smiled widely as he realized what it meant. It symbolized Hermione and Harry, their special bond represented in this delicate object. He carefully placed the rose back in the box and set it on his table, hoping that Hermione liked his present as much as he liked hers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After a refreshing shower, Hermione donned a pair of light blue jeans and a black full-sleeved top. She combed her bushy hair (it did no good), and then wandered over to her bed to open the presents. She had received a photo album of childhood pictures from her parents, a makeup kit from Ginny, and a box of very pretty bracelets from Parvati, among other presents from friends and family. Then, she reached Harry's present. She opened the oblong box and gasped.

There lay a soft dress in a caramel shade, folded neatly. She took it out of the box and placed it to herself and looked down. It had thin straps, a small layer over the chest on top of the dress, which ended just above the ribcage, and the dress itself ended at her ankles. It was beautiful. She smiled as she folded it back up and placed it in her box. Underneath, she caught sight of something glinting in the morning sunlight. She pushed the tissue paper aside and saw a circular translucent hand-held mirror. She carefully pulled it out and as she glanced into it, it began swirling. She furrowed her brow in confusion before seeing something sticking on the back. She pulled it off and read:

Hermione ~

By now, you've probably seen the dress. Hope you like it. The mirror shows you your memories. Just think of the memory, and it will play over in the mirror. For when you're depressed, to cheer you up. Merry Christmas!

Harry

Hermione grinned, and stowed all her presents away, being the most careful with Harry's present. She spotted an unopened one, and she grabbed it and ripped it open. It was from Ron. A small rectangular white book lay in her hands. She tried to pry it open, but couldn't. She took out her wand and said, "Alohomora!" Nothing happened. "What - " she muttered, examining the book. Suddenly, a slip of parchment fell out the top and opened in front of her.

Hey 'Mione ~

Merry Christmas! Wish I could be there to wish you in person (and follow it up with a kiss), but I can't. Miss you tons! This is a diary, for you to stow your most private thoughts in (and for me to read later on, so write good things about me!) To open it, just say 'Adaperio Mysteria'. There is also a charm so that only people you WANT to read will be able to read the contents: Multus (their name or your name) Acroasis. When you close it, it will lock by itself.

Hugs and kisses (and much more), Ron

Hermione laughed, feeling a twinge of guilt somewhere inside her, but ignored it and said the charm, unlocking the diary. She opened it gently just to see if everything was all right: it was. She sighed and placed it with the rest of her presents and right next to Harry's on her side table. She turned and headed to the common room, where she encountered Harry himself.

"I love the present," she came up behind him and whispered in his ear. He smiled and turned around.

"I love yours more. It's gorgeous. Thanks," he replied sincerely and kissed her on the cheek. Somehow, she wanted more.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Christmas sped by, with Hermione finishing her homework and extra credits frantically and catching up on her reading while Harry was getting back into Quidditch and finishing his homework as well, though not as eagerly as Hermione. Soon after, Ron returned from The Burrow and not long after that, classes started up again. Harry regretted this because for one, classes had started up again. Secondly, Angelina Johnson (who had been officially voted captain) was waking them up at the oddest hours of the day to practice. He missed sleeping in. And third and finally, he missed spending time with Hermione. Now that Ron was back, he made sure she stayed under his wing. It was true, she had looked uncomfortable now and then, but Harry didn't say anything.

After four hours of Quidditch practice and having just finished a three-foot long essay for Potions, Harry was bushed. He collapsed on the common room couch as soon as he entered, and found Ron finishing his own essay.

"I hate Snape," Ron grumbled. "Wish holidays had never ended."

Harry wished the same, but remained silent. After a few minutes, Ron asked tentatively, "Harry? I need to talk to you about something."

Harry slowly opened his eyes at looked at Ron, who looked a bit nervous.

"What's up, Ron?" he asked, sitting up, his joints aching from practice.

"Well," Ron said, putting his quill in his bag, "promise you won't tell anyone. SWEAR, Harry."

"I swear. Now tell me what it is," Harry grumbled.

"You know how over break I told you Lavender kissed me?" he asked uncomfortably.

"Yeah," Harry replied slowly.

"Well, the day before break ended, she was crying about something. We were in my backyard. So I went to talk to her, and she said her Muggle friend was in the hospital, and they had been close, and she was scared. So I hugged her and I said that everything would be all right. And then..." Ron paused, looking directly at Harry.

"And then what, Ron?" Harry asked, more alert.

"She kissed me again! Not just any kiss, it was tongue and everything! God, I was so uncomfortable, but..." he trailed off again.

"But?" Harry prompted anxiously.


"But then, I kind of relaxed, and sort of maybe kind of kissed her back. I don't know why. Maybe because I missed Hermione... maybe not. Does this mean I'm falling for Lavender?" he asked somewhat fearfully. Harry shrugged after taking a moment to register this.

"I don't know, Ron," he answered quietly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin!" the commentator announced jovially. "First, the Ravenclaw team!" Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors watched as the Ravenclaw Quidditch team came flying out, a blur of blue and black. "Aaaand... the Slytherin team!" At this, the Slytherin team came flying out, one behind the other, out onto the field and up into the periwinkle blue sky, their green uniforms blending in with the grass.

"Now, I want a nice, clean game! Any fouls and you suffer!" Madame Hooch, referee, yelled to both teams. The captain of Ravenclaw, a sixth year named Ryan Altman, strode over to the center of the field toward Madame Hooch.

"Malfoy!" she barked. Draco Malfoy landed smoothly next to her, and as he was acting captain, he shook Ryan's hand.

"Have a good game, Altman," he sneered. "Not that you'll win." Ryan merely glared back and they took off into the air. Hooch tossed the red Quaffle upwards, followed by the notorious Bludgers, and finally, the tiny winged ball, the Snitch. At once, the distinct bodies became blurs as they all went after balls and tried to score simultaneously for their respective teams.

"Remember, the Snitch is worth one hundred and fifty points - Malfoy passes to Zabini, and Zabini scores! That brings the grand total to 30-10, Slytherin!" the voice announced. Ron groaned next to Harry.

"I wish for once that someone other than Gryffindor could beat Slytherin, just to wipe those smirks off their ugly faces," he growled.

"Well, Ron, they're doing the best they can!" Hermione said briskly, in a 'Don't-Insult-Them-They're-Doing-Better-Than-You' tone. Ron just rolled his eyes.

The game progressed, slowly and extremely close. 30-10 became 50-50, then 70-50 Ravenclaw (producing a whoop from Ron that made Harry shield his ears), and then 100-100. By this time, Ron was biting his nails down to the bone.

"'Mione, I bit all my nails off. Can I bite yours?" he asked, eyes riveted on the game.

"No, Ron! Get a grip!" she replied crossly (he had been yelling in her ear for the past twenty minutes).

"RAVENCLAW SEEKER CINDY TENORIO HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! RAVENCLAW WINS 250-100!" the commentator bellowed, following it up with a coughing fit. Harry and Ron screamed "Yes!" in unison and clapped until their hands stung. Harry saw Malfoy, with an expression to kill, looking daggers at Cindy, who had the Snitch grasped tightly in her hand. He slowly landed and, with one last glare, stalked off.

"Draco," a cold voice said from behind the Slytherin Tower seats. Draco turned in all directions before spotting the man he mirrored: Lucius Malfoy, standing with his arms crossed, his staff in one hand, and his cold, gray eyes narrowed. Draco headed towards him, looking around to make sure no one saw.

"Hello, father," he answered crisply, looking right at the tall, rigid man.

"What happened out there? I thought you had new tactics for your next game?" Lucius asked, raising a platinum eyebrow.


"Well, I did, but Tenorio faked me out," he grumbled, his anger rising. "I'm going to wring..."

"Now, now, Draco. What have I told you?" Lucius mildly reprimanded. Draco took a calming breath and glanced up at his father again.

"No matter that you didn't do well in this one. You're still in the lead for the Cup, are you not?" Lucius asked.

"Tied with Gryffindor," Draco spat.

"Ah, yes. Gryffindor. The house of Harry Potter," Lucius commented in an amused voice. "Draco, I have come to tell you some important news. The Dark Lord has decided that you should get your mark early," Lucius informed, enjoying the flicker of fear that crossed Draco's eyes before they became stone cold again.

"He has?" he asked in a mild tone. Lucius nodded.

"Apparently, he sees something in you that could be of importance to him. But how could he not? You're a Malfoy. And as a first task, you must spy on Harry Potter," he remarked.

"Spy on Potter? You must be mad," Draco responded.

"Draco, do not insult me. You know what that can bring you. Since you attend this pathetic school with him anyway, you can check on him every once in a while, can you not? You will be doing an immense favor for the Dark Lord, and he will be very pleased," Lucius said sternly.

"Father, I have better things to do than look after Golden Boy. Being in classes with him is enough. Its pointless," Draco replied. Lucius drew himself up, so he towered over Draco.

"I told you to watch your mouth! You will do this. It is not a choice. And for your impudence..." And before Draco knew what was happening, he was writhing in agony in the floor after Lucius' cold voice cried, "Crucio!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Wow! Did you SEE Malfoy's face?" Ron chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes as the mass of students headed back to their houses. "He looked like he was about to cry! His inflated head must've burst after today!" Harry laughed.

"Ron, you're not going to stop for a while, are you?" he asked, looking at Ron, who doubled over laughing again. He could only shake his head. Hermione shook her head, rolled her eyes, and muttered "Boys" as she followed the other two to the Gryffindor common room.

"Golden Griffin", Hermione intoned to the Fat Lady, and the portrait swung open to reveal the cozy common room. Hermione sat down on the couch and immersed herself in a book.

"Want to play a game of Wizard's Chess?" Ron suggested.

"Sure," Harry acknowledged and they sprinted up the stairs.

"Ow!" a female voice exclaimed. Harry turned around to see that Ron had walked straight into none other than Lavender Brown.

"I'm sorry, Lavender," Ron apologized quickly, turning a brilliant shade of crimson.

"Its all right," she answered, smiling to let him know that the situation wasn't as uncomfortable as he thought it was, even though she was blushing a matching shade as Ron.

"Are you OK?" he asked, actually looking up from his feet, that had seemed fascinating. Harry watched, interested in this exchange, as Lavender answered, "I'm fine. "

"That's good. Well, I've got to go. See you around," Ron added and rushed off to the boys' dorms. Harry followed, somewhat amused but also confused as to the display that he had just witnessed.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked as he opened his trunk.

"What? Oh, that? Nothing!" Ron replied, his face slowly returning to its normal pallor. Harry moved the excess parchment, ink, quills, presents, and books aside to search for the chess set. Suddenly, he saw a flash of gray before it was gone again. He frowned and pushed all of his things to one side, searching for whatever it was that had disappeared so quickly. He saw two small, beady eyes staring up at him from the darkness of the bottom of the trunk, and as he blinked, it was gone again.

He threw the contents of the trunk on the floor and looked for the body attached to the eyes.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Ron asked from behind him. Harry didn't answer, but kept shoveling things out of the trunk. At last, among the folds of his Invisibility Cloak, he saw it: a small, gray-white rat. He caught its tail swiftly and drew it up to his face, and his eyes widened.

Be careful, Harry. Mice can get back into any building, Sirius had said. Harry recoiled in horror, his fingers pinched tightly on the small mouse's tail. Wormtail was back.

"Harry! Throw it out!" Ron exclaimed disgustedly. Harry turned around to look briefly at Ron, then got up and ran to the window. He opened it and tossed the rat out as far as he could fling it. He quickly snapped the window shut and heaved a sigh, leaning against the window.

"Was that..." Ron asked shakily. Harry nodded. "That was Wormtail, Ron."

"Harry! Ron! Lunch!" Hermione rapped on the door, jolting them back.

"Coming, Hermione!" Ron yelled back. He turned back to Harry, who held a finger up to his mouth, signaling that Ron should not mention the incident that had just taken place. Ron nodded and they left for the Great Hall.

"Mr. Potter, may I speak to you for a moment, please?" Harry turned around from his food and looked up at the sallow face of Severus Snape.

"What about?" Harry replied.

"Please. Come with me," Snape said curtly as he walked off, robes billowing behind him. Harry glanced back at Ron and Hermione, who gave him identical questioning looks. Harry shrugged and followed Snape down the deserted hallways to the cold dungeons. Harry hugged himself to keep warm as they entered the frigid room that was the Potions classroom. Snape headed straight for the desk and pulled something out of one of the drawers.

"Mr. Potter, can you tell me what this is?" he asked, holding up a jar that had a rat inside, clawing at the walls. Harry's eyes widened.

"Professor, where'd you get that?" Harry asked slowly, nearing the desk.

"The funniest of things. I was walking on the Quidditch pitch, and surprisingly, a rat landed on my head," Snape answered calmly, holding up the jar higher.

"Professor, that's Wormtail," Harry answered.

"Mr. Potter, do you expect me to believe that this rat, that I saw you fling out your window, is Peter Pettigrew?" Snape was growing impatient.

"I'm not lying! That really is him! It's the same rat from lunch during the holidays!" Harry exclaimed.

"Mr. Potter," Snape continued, "for your actions and your audacity, Gryffindor will lose fifty points, and you will receive a detention with Hagrid tonight, since he needs help anyway. Eight pm. Don't be late," Snape smirked slightly.

"But... but that really IS Wormtail!" Harry sputtered, but Snape left with the jar, leaving an astounded Harry in the cold dungeons, seething with anger.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I can't believe you have to serve detention! For telling the TRUTH!" Ron groaned.

"I know. But this is Snape we're talking about," Harry replied. They were in the common room after dinner, grumbling and complaining about Harry's detention.

"What did you get detention, anyway?" Seamus inquired, wandering over and sitting next to Ron.

"Yeah, Harry, what for?" Hermione repeated.

"Um..." Harry looked at Ron, who looked back nervously.

"I-I left a potion open. I forgot to close it, and it mixed with, uh, this other potion, and it created this huge mess," Harry made up off the top of his head.

"That's rotten luck," Neville came over and sat on the floor. It looked like the others believed him as well, all except Hermione, who gave him a look that said that he wasn't telling the truth and she was going to find it out.

"Yeah, well, Snape never liked me. Its no surprise," Harry commented, looking away from Hermione.

"Harry, its almost eight. You better go," Ron said, glancing at his watch. Harry nodded and stood up.

"Good night," he said and left, receiving similar looks of sympathy from everyone. Harry headed out the front entrance down to Hagrid's hut, the sharp wind biting his face. He shivered and walked faster over the dew- strewn grass. Finally, he approached the small but cozy looking house with the windows glowing from the fire inside. He ran up to the front door and was about to knock when he realized that it was slightly ajar.

Harry slowly opened it enough to peek in, and saw Dumbledore talking to Hagrid in front of the fire. Harry squinted. That wasn't Dumbledore. He was wearing... blue jeans and a plaid shirt? He looked exactly like Dumbledore, minus the long beard and hair. Instead, he had a closely cropped silver beard and matching shoulder-length hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of the neck.

"I dunno how in the world that slimy git got inter Hogwarts in the first place!" Hagrid roared. He looked very angry.

"Now, now, Hagrid," the Dumbledore look-alike said in a voice much like Dumbledore's, "no need to get overexcited. We will figure out how and why he got in. Now, don't you have a detention with one of your students?"

"Yeah," Hagrid sighed heavily. "I juss hope that stupid prat doesn't harm anyone. 'Specially Harry."

"Hagrid, don't worry yourself. You know I'm here to keep an eye on things," the copy of Dumbledore reassured.

"I know, Aberforth. That makes me feel a lot better," Hagrid gave a small smile. Aberforth? Harry thought. Somewhere deep inside his brain, that name sounded familiar.

"Good," Aberforth replied with a grin. Then, in the blink of an eye, he transformed into... Fang.