The Stalker

Harry85

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Mystery
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 29/01/2008
Last Updated: 02/02/2008
Status: completed

Hermione has a secret admirer. How will Harry react to it? And how will Hermione deal with the matter, adding to a stressful period at work?

Chapters

1. Letters

2. Flowers

3. Date

4. Shock

5. Love

1. Letters

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. JK bowling does, and we saw that in DH…

A/N: My take on the “Secret Admirer” challenge by BloodyRegrets that you can find here: http://talk.portkey.org/index.php?showtopic=26225 . Hope you'll enjoy this fic, I'm sure I'll enjoy writing it! And if you read, please review, it makes me happy and it just takes you few moments! *laughs* Ignores the epilogue.

This story is going to be mostly from Hermione's point of view, especially the first chapters. Now, stop the chatter and let's see what happens here, uh? *winks*

The Stalker

Chapter One: Letters

Hermione Granger was walking back to her flat. She had had a long tiring day at St. Mungo's, where she worked as an Healer, and decided that a walk would help her relax a bit. After all, she didn't live far from work, it was just ten minutes from there.

It had been sheer luck, really, when she had found that apartment. Before, she lived with Ron and Harry at Grimmauld, but both her and the redhead had been looking for places of their own for a while.

Not that living with Harry was bad, mind you, but it felt good to have something of their own, after all they were all going to have to find someone for themselves soon, and it would be awkward to bring a date home when your two best friends lived there too.

So, she finally clicked the door of her flat open, slid inside, and leaving the coat on the couch in the living room, went to the bathroom to have a relaxing bath. After she started it, the brunette entered the kitchen and poured herself a glass of red wine. Finally she started taking off her clothes, then.

Soon, Hermione was neck-deep into the hot water, her eyes closed, and she sighed contentedly.

As she took her time in the bath, the brunette suddenly heard tapping on a window. Wondering who might be, she wrapped a robe around herself, dried her hair a bit so to not have droplets of water fall all around her flat and went to get it, finally finding out the cause of the noise.

A brown owl was waiting for her with a letter tied to its leg.

She opened the window, let the animal inside and then took the letter. She tore the envelope open, frustrated at whoever disturbed her relaxing bath at that hour of the night.

As she scanned over the words, she rolled her eyes laughing, and tossed the parchment in the trash bin.

It read,

Dear Hermione,

You don't know who I am right now

But I know you,

And I'm blessed about that.

You're a goddess among mortals

Yours forever,

An admirer

She resumed her night of relax with a quick supper and watching a movie on the telly, but soon exhaustion caught up with her and she fell asleep with the movie still going.

It was late at night when she finally woke up, her back sore, and she sleepily padded to her bed, muttering about not ever watching a movie again when she was so tired.

Next morning, she gingerly prepared herself some coffee, then went back to her room to get dressed. Choosing an attire she would be comfortable with, but that would also make her look good, Hermione settled for a white shirt, a creamy skirt and a pale pink sweater. Nothing too fancy, but still, as Harry had put it one time she had dressed more or less like that, “simply beautiful”. She had blushed at his praise then, but she had cherished it in her heart all the same. A quick brush of her hair, a touch of make up, and she was ready.

See, during the years after the war, Hermione Granger had learned to enjoy her feminine side, the one she had always kept locked up in her teenage days. Not that she was model-like beautiful, but she had learned how to make the most of her best features, which weren't few after all. Her hair had become curly instead of bushy, thanks to some potions Molly had taught her to brew, her brown, warm eyes had always been one of her better traits, but now that she hadn't school robes covering her clothes, she could be a bit more feminine with what she wore, making sure not to hide the curves that the last years had gifted her with.

As she was to Apparate to work, the brown haired witch had the distinct feeling she was being watched, but shrugged it off, and in a flash she was no more in her bedroom but in the hall of the Wizarding hospital.

She walked to her office, wore her white Healer robes, and went for the usual round of checking on her patients, before the daily meeting with her assistant, Grant, over possible cures for them.

“Here starts another day” she cheerfully said. As tiring as it was, she loved her job and wouldn't change it with anything else.

At lunch, Harry surprised her stopping by.

She was just entering her office to put away some paperwork about a patient that had just been released, when she spotted him, leaning on the wall, gazing at her with those emerald eyes of his, without glasses covering them anymore.

Hermione had fixed his eyes herself when she ha found out how, as he trusted no one else with it.

“Harry!” she squealed in surprise. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Well, I thought to have lunch with my best friend that I lately see so little of” he joked, teasing her about her working habits.

She had the decency to blush, as she very well knew he had a point. “I'm sorry I've been…”

“Hermione” he said softly, and she looked up at him. “I understand. I was away from you and Ron for months myself, when I had to go through Auror training, so there's no need to be sorry. I was just teasing you” he said, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

She lightly swat his arm, giving him a mock glare, but then she smiled.

“Shall we go then?”

“Of course ma'am” he said with a slight bow that made her roll her eyes, still she was pretty amused by his antics.

After lunch, Hermione promised him they would restore their habit of going out on Friday night, just the three of them, and he kissed her on the cheek before rushing off to the Ministry. He was already late, but it was one of the little privileges of being Head of the Auror Department. No one would report you, so it was ok to be late once in a while.

Hermione, on her side, stood a bit in her office, thinking back to the fun she and Harry had over lunch. It was what she needed, after a rough morning which had taken away the good mood she had

gone to work with that day. Two of her patients had gotten decidedly worse, and she was at a loss of what to do to save them.

“I swear, his ability to raise my spirits when I need it the most is almost…magical” she thought to herself, smiling at the pun.

When she got home that night, she found the same owl of the previous night waiting for her.

“Blimey” she muttered, surprised. Tearing the parchment away from its leg, and gaining an angry hoot from the bird, which promptly flew away, she sat on her bed, reading.

Dearest Hermione,

I know you are now wondering who I am,

sending you letters twice in a row.

You will know me in due time, but I can't

Resist telling you how beautiful you are.

You're like the sun for the cold earth, like

Water for a thirsty man…

You're the most wonderful woman I've ever seen.

Love,

Your admirer

She had to smile at how cheesy his letter was, and yet, it somehow warmed her heart. It had been too long since she had raised the interest of an another man, or at least, of someone who would act on it. Many had looked her way, and yet few acted on the attraction they seemed to have for her. Maybe it was because of her fame of being smart, most men were scared by a smart woman, or maybe it was something else, but the fact was it was by now an year since the last time she had gone out on a date.

Ron and Harry were always pushing her to go out more, but she barely had time for them, how could she have time for going out to clubs and such? Yet, being twenty-four, she was still young and should enjoy life as much as she could.

So, these letters were somewhat cute and she smiled reading them. She wondered why this man couldn't talk to her in person, though.

The question intensified when those letters kept coming, always without a name or an address to reply. The owl who carried them flew away as soon as she took the envelope, so she had no way to find out who this admirer was.

One night, while she and Harry were having dinner together at her place, Ron was out of town with the Cannons as he played Keeper for them, the by now familiar owl arrived.

Harry was the first one to reach out for it, but the animal was adamant to not let him grab the envelope. Instead, it flew towards Hermione and while glaring at Harry, sort of, it let her take it.

Once the “blasted bird”, as Harry had called it, had flown out of the window again, the raven haired wizard went to read the letter over Hermione's shoulder.

Or at least he tried to, because she clutched the parchment to her heart stopping him from reading, a tiny blush colouring her cheeks.

They resumed their meal, Harry seemingly forgetting about the whole ordeal, or, better, letting it go as he knew if she didn't want to tell him, there was no way he would convince her to do it, then they settled on the couch, watching some telly and chatting about what was going on with their lives.

When midnight rolled around, Harry decided he should go get some sleep as he had an early start the next morning, so Hermione escorted him to the door, and there he wished her goodnight, pecking her on the lips just before Apparating away.

She stood there, rooted to the spot, touching her lips with her fingers, wondering what that all was about.

Trying not to dwell too much on it as it would bring back feelings she had managed to bury away, she slipped her nightclothes on, entered her bed, and then set rereading the letter.

My wonderful Hermione,

You own my heart by now,

I hope you will be able to love

me back one day. I wish I could

kiss your soft lips and pull you close

so that you would never feel cold or lonely.

Love forever,

Your admirer

Reading the line about kissing her lips made her remember the feeling that had spread through her body when Harry had kissed her, and she surrendered to a sleep filled of an unknown lover, of whom she could only see the sparkling green eyes.

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2. Flowers

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. JK bowling does, and we saw that in DH…

A/N: My take on the “Secret Admirer” challenge by BloodyRegrets that you can find here: http://talk.portkey.org/index.php?showtopic=26225 . Hope you'll enjoy this fic, I'm sure I'll enjoy writing it! And if you read, please review, it makes me happy and it just takes you few moments! *laughs* Ignores the epilogue.

The secret admirer strikes again…and raises the wooing a bit!

The Stalker

Chapter Two: Flowers

It was by now a month since the first letter had arrived, and they had become almost a routine in Hermione's life. Harry had suggested she tried tracking the owl, just to know who she was dealing with.

“You can never be too careful these days, Mione” he said her. She chuckled, and Harry raised her eyebrows at her, almost asking why she was laughing.

“You just reminded me of Moody and his “constant vigilance” policy” she said with a smile, and Ron, who was at the pub with them, started laughing too.

“Just make sure you don't come up with a wooden leg and a mad eye, mate” he said, clapping Harry on the back and taking a sip of his Butterbeer.

The raven haired wizard smiled, stirring his own drink, but said nothing. A look from Hermione and a light squeeze on his hand reassured him that his worry for her was appreciated, and he nodded slightly.

He knew Hermione was a capable witch, more than able to defend herself. After all, she had been pivotal in Voldemort's downfall, as well as Ron of course, and Harry also knew that he might be the Head of Auror Department but in a duel Hermione would be able to kick his ass if she concentrated enough on the task, which was more than he could say of most of the population of Wizarding Britain.

However, with many Death Eaters still in hiding, he didn't exactly want to take chances with one of his best friends, which was the reason of his worry.

Knowing that pushing the matter would only enrage Hermione, however, he let it go and decided to try and take it as a joke like Ron had done.

Their night out progressed nicely, and as usual the two of them had to physically drag Ron to his flat, as the redhead was thoroughly pissed. Firewhiskey tends to do that to you when you indulge too much in it, you know.

Then, Harry, being the perfect gentleman, insisted to see Hermione home himself, and she smiled at his sweetness. If she was honest with herself, the simple gesture of wanting to see her get home safe kind of made butterflies set in her belly, but she forced herself to banish the feeling.

“Goodnight, Harry” she said, kissing him on the cheek, and she was a bit pleased with herself seeing him blush.

“G-goodnight, Hermione” he then stammered, before Apparating away.

As she changed for bed, Hermione couldn't help thinking about Harry's reaction to her friendly kiss.

“Could it be…” she wondered, but stopped herself before continuing down that particular train of thought. She had to bury every kind of feeling she might have for Harry, because it was definitely not going to happen.

After all, he had never shown interest in her that way, right?

Brushing her teeth, she headed to bed, and noticed something she had been too wrapped up in her thoughts to notice before.

A single pink rose was on her bed, with the usual letter from her admirer, and after sniffing it she closed her eyes, sighing. It smelled wonderfully.

Conjuring a vase with water, she placed the flower in it and then put the vase on her drawer. Finally then, she headed to bed, and fell asleep in a couple minutes.

However, she didn't sleep much, because at four in the morning she was woken up by an emergency call from St. Mungo's. She hastily dressed and Apparated to the hospital, where she found Grant waiting for her.

“Hi Hermione” he sombrely greeted her. “It's our patients in the long term ward. They…they are dying, and we haven't been able to stabilize their conditions”

Hermione ran to the ward, and with a complex wand movement tried to see what the problem was with the three brothers. She had been the one suggesting a new approach on their infections, the previous day, and if they were going to die…

No, she wouldn't think about that. She would save them, whatever it cost.

They feverishly worked on the three young men, and finally two of them started responding to the treatment, and were soon out of danger. The third one however, the youngest, wasn't so lucky, and at eleven that morning, he died.

Hermione was devastated, and after lunch she finally crumbled.

Tears pooling in her eyes, she asked Grant what had she done wrong, why had she failed that young life.

Grant hugged her tight. “Hermione, you did nothing wrong. You were brilliant, and his brothers are finally starting to heal after months of not responding to our cures. He…well, not everyone responds the same way to a treatment” he said, from his experience. He was ten years older than her and had often been her guide when she was at a loss, due to her inexperience. Even now that she had been working there for years, he was still her rock when she had some doubts.

Patting her back, he tried to soothe her.

Finally pulling back, she gave him a watery smile.

“Thanks, I don't know what I'd do without you”

He smiled. “You'd still be the best Healer in the hospital” he said, and she gave a tiny laugh.

“Seriously though, Hermione…our duty is to save lives, but we can't save them all. Some might die, and this doesn't automatically mean it's our fault” he added then, and she nodded. She knew that, of course, but it still hurt to have one of her patients die.

That night, when she got home, it was with some sense of relief that she found another letter and a flower, this time a tulip, on her bed.

She didn't know exactly why, but the thought of someone sending her these letters and flowers felt awfully comforting, for some reason.

Hermione avidly read it, and for the first time since that morning, she felt herself truly smile. The tulip joined the rose from the previous day into the vase, and she felt giddy at the thought of receiving more of them.

And she wasn't wrong. If it had previously become an habit for her admirer to send her love letters, now he had taken the liberty to add a flower, alternating roses with other kinds, lilies, tulips, orchids, and such. He had even sent her a very rare blue rose, which Muggles were still trying to breed without much results, and of course a red one, symbol of passion. She had enlarged the vase to contain all of them and had placed it in her living room, as it had become too big for her drawer, and more than once she had stopped to look at them, a smile tugging at her lips, as she considered the order they had been sent.

Knowing everything about the meaning of flowers, which depended on their colour too, she could recognize a pattern there, starting from friendship, the pink rose, going through compliments to her eyes, the variegated tulip, and slowly growing through various steps, reaching the top with the red rose.

She would smell them and then would sigh at the fresh fragrance they released. Clearly, the mysterious man had enchanted them to not die and keep their smell as fresh as when just arrived.

Next Friday, Hermione really had to force herself to go and meet Harry and Ron at the Three Broomsticks.

She knew having some kind of fun would be good after the rough week she had had, in which the only good things were the letters and the flowers that kept coming, but she was really tired.

However, she knew all too well that Harry would never let her skip the meeting and would come and fetch her himself if she wasn't there, so she stepped into the shower and let the warm water soothe her aching muscles. Then, walking to her room in just a robe, she proceeded to choose her attire. Wanting to feel good with herself, she chose a black dress which left bare most of her back, and with a v-neck which exposed a good part of her cleavage. Luckily, it was almost summer by now so she would not be cold. Then, she Apparated away, after shrugging the feeling of someone watching her, which she had had more than once lately.

As she walked into the pub, she immediately spotted her friends and walked toward them, enjoying the stares she was receiving.

“Blimey, Hermione” Ron said. “If I weren't with Luna, I'd ask you out!” he said, winking at her to let her know it was a joke, then he seriously added, “You look smashing”

Hermione grinned, blushing a tiny bit, and then turned toward Harry, who was still staring at her with his mouth open. Finally he recomposed himself, and spoke.

“You look beautiful, Mione” he said, and the brunette felt her face grow on fire.

“Thanks” she mumbled, taking a sip of the Butterbeer they had already ordered for her.

They chatted lovely all night, drinking, and she noticed Harry stiffen considerably when she told them about the letters and flowers she kept receiving. Inwardly rolling her eyes, she feigned to have missed it, yet she was annoyed at her friend for reacting that way. Those letters were her only source of “happiness” lately, and she couldn't understand why Harry was so adamant to not like them.

After all, Ron was taking them exactly like they should be taken, with a laugh, or in her case, a warm smile and a feeling of giddiness. For a moment she wondered if Harry might be jealous, but if he was, then surely he would have said something, right?

The rest of the night went quietly, and the three friends promised to meet again in a week. Once back in her flat, Hermione noticed the underwear she had changed out of before leaving was no more on her bedroom floor where she was sure she had left it. Being too tired to think about it, she quickly changed into her nightclothes and went to sleep.

Work was becoming worse day by day. She struggled to find cures for her patients but most of them wouldn't improve, and that was making her go mad. She had never felt so much a failure in her entire life, not even when they were searching the Horcruxes and they couldn't find them. To make things worse, she had lost her favourite hairbrush, which while being a little thing, upset her quite a bit, as she had grown affectionate to it.

For all these reasons, Hermione had come to truly cherish the moments she could escape from all of that while reading her admirer's letters every night.

On the last day of the month, she was surprised to see a white rose, symbol of pure and true love, accompanying the letter. She hastily opened it, read the few lines, and couldn't help the gasp that escaped her lips, plus the huge grin which spread on her face immediately after.

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3. Date

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. JK bowling does, and we saw that in DH…

A/N: My take on the “Secret Admirer” challenge by BloodyRegrets that you can find here: http://talk.portkey.org/index.php?showtopic=26225 . Hope you'll enjoy this fic, I'm sure I'll enjoy writing it! And if you read, please review, it makes me happy and it just takes you few moments! *laughs* Ignores the epilogue.

Harry is not going to like what happens here…

The Stalker

Chapter Three: Date

Dearest Hermione,

I think the time has come for

us to meet in person. Meet me at

“Merlin's Garden” Tuesday night

at eight o clock, and don't worry

about my identity. I'll recognize you,

and I'll make myself known in due time.

Love,

Your admirer

Harry crumpled the parchment in his fist. He couldn't believe the audacity of this man, whoever he was, asking Hermione out!

He felt his blood boil, and willed himself to calm down, with little result.

“You're not going” he barked then.

Hermione looked surprised for just a moment, then glared at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“And why not?” she icily drawled.

“It's too dangerous, Mione” he said, but she snorted.

“Come on, Harry! That restaurant is one of the most famous in the Wizarding World. There are reporters at every hour, would he really be so stupid to try something there, even if he was dangerous, which I seriously doubt?”

“It would be the perfect chance to show the world that even the Golden Trio can be harmed” Harry said, although he didn't completely believe it himself.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, and he finally crumbled.

“I'm…I'm just not comfortable with you going, ok?” he finally half-admitted. He never said why he wasn't comfortable, after all.

Hermione, however, was a smart witch and didn't miss that detail. “And why aren't you comfortable then, Harry? Some would think you're jealous…” she teased him, her anger suddenly vanished, as she saw the chance to get what she wanted, which at the moment was to go on this date, but also having the chance to evaluate his reaction at her mentioning him being jealous, something that had been coming in and out of her mind lately, seeing how he reacted at her receiving those letters and flowers.

Harry knew he was not going to win that argument, once the words left her mouth. After all, he wasn't going to tell her he wasn't comfortable with her going on a date because he wanted to be the guy she dated.

“Fine” he snapped. “Go to this blasted date, but at least let me “chaperone” you under my cloak. You won't even know I'm there. I just want to see who this man is and make sure he treats you well”

Hermione's expression softened, as his last words warmed her heart. There was a special sweetness in them that was so…Harry, and she found herself agreeing.

“Ok, you can come under the cloak. But, you won't make a sound, whatever way the date goes. You're allowed to intervene only if my personal safety is in danger, which I seriously doubt anyhow, understood?” she said, giving him a pointed stare. He nodded, and suddenly saw her face break in an huge grin.

“Come on then, help me choose what to wear!” she said, taking his hand in her own and dragging him to her bedroom. It took them barely over an hour, but in the end Harry had to admit she was gorgeous, and this mystery man was a lucky bloke to have a date with her.

She had finally decided for a peach dress, which left her shoulders and good part of her back bare as it was tied around her neck, and the v-neck allowed a good view of her cleavage without being too provocative. Overall, the dress made her look sexy without being vulgar, and Harry felt his blood head in a direction he didn't want it to go. Trying to picture Hagrid in a tutu to calm himself, he closed his eyes, sighing, while Hermione was in the bathroom taking off that dress, as not to stain it before she had to actually prepare herself for the date.

Hermione was watching him closely during that afternoon, as she tried dress after dress. Every time she would come out of her bathroom with a different one, she would evaluate his reaction, but with years he had become very good at hiding his feelings, even from her. However, his gulp when he saw her in that peach dress sent a jolt of electricity down her spine, and she knew she wouldn't choose anything else. For one night, she wanted to feel sexy and forget her work-related troubles.

As Harry left to go fetch his cloak, after all he didn't expect to be on “duty” when he had come to say hello so he hadn't it with him, Hermione stepped into the shower. She had to be quick if she wanted to be on time.

When she came back to her bedroom, Harry was already back there, placing his wand in his forearm holster.

“You don't really expect to have to use that, right?” she said, with an hint of annoyance in her voice.

Harry smirked at her. “Constant vigilance, Granger!” he barked then in his best Mad-Eye Moody imitation. She playfully rolled her eyes at him, and he heard her mutter something like “the old crazy man has finally rubbed off on you” while she retreated to the bathroom to change. Moody was dead in the war, in the summer after Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts, but Hermione knew his “Constant Vigilance” policy was by now almost embedded in the walls of Auror Department at the Ministry, Harry being one of those who more strongly believed in it, if not the first one at all.

He then sat quietly on the bed, waiting for her to get ready, and letting his thoughts wander like he rarely did.

It had been a long time since he had let his feelings for Hermione bubble to the surface. First, there was the fear that Voldemort would target her even more, then after the war, he had thought she fancied Ron, plus he had Ginny, didn't he? But those romances had lasted few months before they all agreed they were better as friends. Molly, surprising everyone, told them she had always wondered if they were really happy in those relationships, as they were obviously ill-matched. Harry was shocked, he had always believed her to be one of those who believed “one big happy Weasley family” was what expected the teens in their future, and instead the older witch didn't think Ginny and Ron were suited for him and Hermione!

“Oh, it's not like I don't think high of my two youngest, Harry” she had explained him when he had voiced his surprise. “It's just that even if I think they are great kids, I can't help noticing that Hermione and Ron are bickering more than they are talking normally, and you and Ginny…well, let's say I can see when two people don't aim for the same in a relationship. So, better realize it and call it off now than later, when you are married already, maybe with kids”

Harry couldn't help agreeing with her on that one.

After that attempt at dating the Weasleys, there had been his fear of rejection, and what that would do to their friendship. Honestly, she had never given him signs she was interested, did she? And Harry knew he was far better having her as just a friend than not having her at all.

At times, things slipped through his guard, like the other night when he had pecked her on the lips, but he was overall doing a good job in keeping his feelings in check. And now, this admirer ordeal had made him jealous, and he didn't know what to do. Act on his feelings, or not?

It seemed that the choice was out of his hands now…

His train of thought was suddenly interrupted by Hermione's appearance. He thought that having seen her in that dress already, he wouldn't be much affected, but he was sorely wrong. Apart from the dress itself, Hermione had done a wonderful job with her hair, collecting it behind her head an leaving just few tendrils to frame her face. Then, she had applied a tiny bit of make up.

“You…you're stunning” he choked while standing up from her bed. A rosy blush coloured her cheeks, and she smiled warmly at him.

“Thanks, Harry. Shall we go, then?”

“Of course” he said, draping his cloak over himself and vanishing from sight. Hermione felt him gently grasp her elbow, and only then she Apparated them both to the restaurant.

As they arrived at the place of the appointment, Harry scanned the crowd trying to guess who her date was.

He spotted a tall man, with brown hair, walking toward them. Well, technically toward Hermione, since he couldn't be seen.

When the man finally approached them, Harry took a long look at him. His eyes were blue, and he had the hint of a stubble. Dressed casually but yet elegantly enough for such an expensive restaurant, he bowed to Hermione, taking her hand in his own, and kissing it gently. “I'm honoured that you came, Ms. Granger” he said. “I'm John McTrish”

“Nice to meet you, John” Hermione said with a warm smile and an hint of a blush at his chivalrous gesture. “And please, call me Hermione. We're out on a date, aren't we?” she said with a smile.

Harry knew there was a reason why he didn't like this man, and his cheesy manners proved it. Rolling his eyes, he followed them inside, Hermione's arm laced through John's one, trying to not bump into anyone, otherwise he would give away his presence. All dinner he watched them from afar, having hid in a corner where neither clients or waiters would bump into him, just near a plant, and he often found himself narrowing his eyes when John would say something that made Hermione laugh, and wanting to strangle the man when he placed his hand on Hermione's on the table.

He, however, was too far to hear what they were talking about.

Hermione thought she had rarely met such a charming man. He was great company through their meal, and more than once had made her laugh. He was also chivalrous, something that tended to be forgotten these days. For example, he pulled out her chair and had her seat before he went to get comfortable himself. They amiably chatted while eating, (“Chicken breast flambÃ© for me, and roasted fillet of grouper for the miss” he had ordered for them both), now and then taking a sip of the dry white wine they had chosen, which would match perfectly both their dishes, and she had found out he was from Scotland, and worked in the Ministry as one of the lower grade Unspeakables, which fascinated her quite a bit. He more than once paid her compliments, which made her blush a tiny bit, and so she was more than happy to continue the pleasurable evening going to have a bit of ice-cream.

As she exited the restaurant with her left arm laced with John's right one, she felt a small tug on her other hand, and remembered Harry was there.

“So we're going to Fortescue's then?” she said, letting him know where they were directed, and John nodded. “The best ice-cream I've ever had, and I couldn't offer you less” he said with a dazzling smile that would have made Lockhart proud.

Harry gagged under the cloak, then Apparated away to Diagon Alley just after they did.

As they strolled around, Harry was sulkily following them, his hands in his pockets, glaring daggers at the man's back. He then leant on a building, sighing at how childish he was acting about the whole thing, while they sat at the parlour quietly sharing a sundae.

He knew Hermione deserved happiness, and if she was to find it with this guy, he would never dream of disrupting it. He knew he had waited too long, and now that he was building up the courage to finally reveal her his feelings, he might not get a chance.

Seeing that they were leaving, he stealthily moved closer, after all he was Head of the Auror Department, he must know a thing or two about following someone without being spotted, don't you think?

“Hermione…I've enjoyed this evening very much” John started, and Hermione smiled.

“I did too, John” she said, just a bit coyly. He glanced sideways at her, nodding, and took her hand in his own. Then, he slowly stopped, turned toward her, and cupped her cheek with his free hand.

He slowly moved closer, till his lips brushed her own. He stood there, waiting for her to pull back if she wanted.

She didn't, although she had to admit it didn't feel even half as good as when Harry had pecked her on the lips that other night. But Harry wasn't the one kissing her now, and he had never really given her reason to think he was interested. Soon, she felt John deepen the kiss, and she kissed him back.

After a couple minutes, Harry, who was positively seething by now, and had to use all his self-control to restrain himself from punching the guy in the nose, heard him whisper the words the raven haired wizard had dreaded would come.

“Why don't we go back to my flat?”

Hermione nodded, knowing she was being quite more adventurous that her normal self, but it felt good, plus John had been the perfect gentleman all night, she felt she had nothing to worry.

Harry barely managed to cast a silent tracking charm on the man before they Apparated away, leaving him alone in the middle of Diagon Alley.

He sighed, and then located them on a map he had the Ministry make for all Aurors, it worked exactly like the Marauders Map, only it didn't show Hogwarts but whatever part of the world you wanted it to show. Harry called out, “England”, then zoomed in to the zone a red dot was pulsating in.

He spotted the dot labelled John McTrish, glowing red because of the tracking charm, and then Apparated to the other man's flat.

He managed to arrive before the couple had entered, so as soon as the door was open, he slipped inside unnoticed.

Hermione, in the mean time, wondered where Harry had gone, since she didn't feel him grab her arm when they had Apparated away from Diagon Alley. She figured he had finally understood John was not dangerous and left them to enjoy the end of their date alone, but of course she was wrong.

Following John inside, she stepped into the living room, and taking a look around, she gasped.

“What the…”

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4. Shock

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. JK bowling does, and we saw that in DH…

A/N: My take on the “Secret Admirer” challenge by BloodyRegrets that you can find here: http://talk.portkey.org/index.php?showtopic=26225 . Hope you'll enjoy this fic, I'm sure I'll enjoy writing it! And if you read, please review, it makes me happy and it just takes you few moments! *laughs* Ignores the epilogue.

Some things are explained here, and they won't be pretty…

The Stalker

Chapter Four: Shock

“What the…”

Hermione looked around, to find the room walls filled with pictures of her, in various attires. As she kept scanning the walls, her eyes widened.

She could see herself in pyjamas, in her usual work attire, in casual attire when she would go out with Harry and Ron, or with some fancy dress on the rare occasions she would go out on dates, or would want to feel good with herself raising some glances from men.

She could recognize the attire she wore the night Harry had come to her place for dinner and had pecked her on the lips.

But what really shocked her, and made her feel dirty, was that there were lots of photos of her in various states of undress, some with her in only her underwear, others evidently taken while she was dressing, as she would have only a shirt and her panties on, or just her skirt and her bra…

The brunette then gasped when she took sight of photos of her just out of the shower, with only a towel on, and of her completely naked.

As her eyes roamed the walls of the room, she spotted some frames, and encased in them she found the hairbrush she had lost, with some of her hair just near it, and two sets of her underwear in the other two ones.

“Nice, isn't it?” John said, unaware of her distress, as what he had in the room was completely normal.

Something clicked in Hermione's brain, as she examined the cases with her belongings. This was the reason why lately she had felt watched more than once then.

She regretted telling Harry she would be fine, and wished he hadn't left them alone with this psycho. Right now, she would really need his help, because who knew what this pervert would try to do to her.

What she didn't know was that Harry was hid in a corner of the room, his blood boiling. He wanted nothing more than to kill this man, and if he still were a teenage boy he probably would have. But, he was a trained Auror, and had learned to control his instincts.

He had his wand trained on the man, ready to take him down, but he decided to wait and see how the scene unfolded. Maybe he could incriminate the man with something heavier and have him in Azkaban for a good share of his life.

Hermione turned toward the man, who was casually sipping a glass of whiskey he had poured for himself.

“You're a pervert” she spat, glaring at him. “I'm out of here” she then said, taking a step toward the door.

“I don't think so” the man casually said. “I'm between you and the door, and I'm not going to let you leave”

Hermione knew he was right. Well, she was a witch, she would fight her way out, if needed. She went to grab her wand, but found it was missing.

“Searching for this, dear?” the man said, rolling her wand through his fingers, almost bored.

Hermione was shocked to see he had it. “How…” she said, unable to finish the sentence.

“How did I take it? Simple, I did while we were strolling through Diagon Alley and I had my arm around your waist”

Harry's eyes widened, he hadn't spotted the movement of the man, but he was sure he had been watching them closely! He wanted to bang his head on the wall for missing such a thing. Some Auror he was proving to be, and he was the Head of the Department!

He guessed he had been too blinded by his jealousy, and in that moment he understood why there was a rule that stopped Aurors too emotionally involved in a case to take it. Emotions could cloud their judgement.

Hermione was at a loss for words. The room was completely silent, until John finished drinking his whiskey.

“Now, would you come here on the couch with me and drink this pumpkin juice I have prepared for you?” he asked.

“No way!” Hermione spat. “I don't know what came over me to agree having a date with you” she angrily spat, tears starting to pool in her eyes.

“I do, instead. See, I knew you were getting more and more attached to my letters, my flowers, day after day, because they were the only ray of light in your hard work days. I knew you were feeling down because you couldn't find cures for your patients, you who had always been so brilliant in your job”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, sudden realization hitting her. “It was you! You tampered with their cures making them not recover, so you could continue your sick plan!” she said.

“Spot on! I love how you're so smart, Mione”

“Don't call me Mione!”

“Potter does” the other man nonchalantly said. “And you don't mind when it's him”

Harry's wand hand itched to hex the man into next millennium, but the raven haired man willed himself to wait. He was sure the man hadn't the slightest clue he was there, so it would take a flash to bring him down if needed.

“I'll tell you more. I made sure on of them died, because that would affect you terribly and would make you much more emotionally attached to my little letters”

“You bastard! You killed an innocent just so you could have your way!” she shouted, now crying freely.

“Aww, don't cry. I'll make you feel better, I promise” the man said, standing up. “Now come here”

“No!” she shouted, backing against a wall.

“You don't really have a choice, honey” the other man smirked, then he raised his own wand.

“Imperio!” he cried, and the spell hit Hermione, who went rigid for a moment. Then, she started walking toward the man, smiling sexily to him.

Harry guessed she had been ordered to act that way. It was clear she couldn't fight the curse.

“Stupeficium!” he cried, and the man slumped to the ground. “Finite Incantatem!” he then said, stopping the curse affecting Hermione. The man was going to spend his life in Azkaban now, and Harry was glad he had waited before intervening.

She looked lost for a moment, then remembered everything, and was shocked to see him standing there, as he had discarded his cloak.

“Harry!” she said, running into his arms. He engulfed her in a tight hug, kissing the top of her head.

“I'm sorry Hermione. I'm sorry that I didn't notice him taking your wand, I could have spared you this experience”

She snuggled into his embrace. “Doesn't matter. You were here to save me, and I could never thank you enough for it”

He noticed she was trembling, and that tears were staining his shirt.

“Why don't you go home and rest now? I'll bring this scum to the Ministry, and then I'll come there”

She nodded, and forced herself to leave the safety of his embrace. Then, she took her wand, and Apparated away.

Once alone, Harry kicked the man hard in the face, and spat on him. Then, he Apparated them both to the Ministry cells.

“This one is to go straight to Azkaban for using an Unforgivable” he said to the guard. Then he let the man perform the Prior Incantatio on the wand of the man, and collected Harry's memory of the facts. They then proceeded to check the pumpkin juice that had been offered to Hermione, and as Harry suspected they found a very powerful love potion in it. Not that it affected much the guy's situation, having used an unforgivable had already gained him the maximum of the punishment anyway, but it made Harry realize how near to lose Hermione forever he had come.

“That's all. Good night” the guard said with a slight bow, and Harry briskly nodded, then Apparated to Hermione's, still shaken by the discovery.

He found her curled up in a ball on the couch.

“Hey, there” he softly said, and she looked up at him, giving him an half-smile.

“You up for a cup of tea?” he said, and she nodded. Once it was ready, they sipped it quietly, in silent companionship.

“I'm sorry I waited so much to act but I wanted to see if he did something to incriminate him harder, which he did. A life sentence in Azkaban suits him well”

Hermione nodded, her eyes still dull. “It's my fault” she whispered then.

He hugged her, and whispered soothing words into her ear, as he knew what she was speaking about, and he knew how it felt to believe it was your fault. He had done it too many times in his teenage years, and ironically it had always been Hermione who brought him out of it.

“No, it's not. You know it's not. You did your best, and you saved most of them, even with that man's tampering and trying to stop you. You're a brilliant Healer, Hermione Granger, never you doubt it”

She smiled sadly at him. “How is it that you always know how to cheer me up, Harry?” she said, looking up at him. He could spot raw emotion there, and gulped. He didn't expect it.

“Please, stay with me tonight?” she then asked. “I don't want to stay alone”

He knew he was done then. He could never refuse her anything, and a night spent with her in his arms would surely bring his feelings for her full force up to the surface.

“Of course I will, Mione” he said, and she smiled, a real smile this time.

“Thanks” she said, and settled with her head on his chest, hugging him tightly, almost holding on him for dear life. Harry conjured a sheet to cover them both, and then hugged her back, kissing the top of her head just as sleep engulfed her.

He inwardly sighed.

It would be a long night.

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5. Love

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. JK bowling does, and we saw that in DH…

A/N: My take on the “Secret Admirer” challenge by BloodyRegrets that you can find here: http://talk.portkey.org/index.php?showtopic=26225 . Hope you'll enjoy this fic, I'm sure I'll enjoy writing it! And if you read, please review, it makes me happy and it just takes you few moments! *laughs* Ignores the epilogue.

This is a bit short, I hope you'll like it all the same as it's the last chapter of this story. I enjoyed writing it, I hope you'll like it too! Fluff alert! *winks*

The Stalker

Chapter Five : Love

As predicted, while Hermione slept just like a baby, comfortably snuggled into Harry's arms, the raven haired wizard was not so lucky.

Having her body pressed into his own caused a reaction southwards, and he did his best to adjust their positions so that Hermione wouldn't notice.

Hearing her regular breaths, he couldn't help but look down, and a smile spread on his lips when he saw her angelic face. He brushed away a single lock of her curly brown hair, which had cascaded down in front of her face, tucking it away behind her ear.

Even with the whole ordeal of that night, she had to be having a pleasant dream, because her lips were curved in a smile, and Harry felt relieved at that. He feared she would have nightmares about what had happened.

He absent-mindedly ran his hand through her hair, wondering how the hell he was going to reveal to her, his best friend, that he had feelings for her. But he had decided he would.

If she rejected him, then he would live with the consequences, but at least he would not have the regret of not having told her when he had the chance to. The events of the night had made him realize just how near to lose her forever he had come. If he had not found the flat, if he had not arrived there soon enough, she would have drunk that love potion, and would have become that psycho's pet.

Just thinking of it made his blood boil, but he took some deep breaths to calm himself. The last thing he wanted was to wake Hermione up and have to explain why he was so worked up.

Before he knew it, light started to peek from the windows, and Harry guessed dawn was almost there. He was exhausted, and slowly let his eyes close, finding some of the sleep he so desperately needed.

The black haired young man woke hours later to a wonderful smell of bacon and coffee.

Groggily standing up from Hermione's couch, he followed the smell to the kitchen, where he silently admired her as she worked on breakfast.

He couldn't stop himself from grinning, as a mischievous thought came to his mind, probably some kind of heirloom from James and the other Marauders.

He slipped inside the room as silently as he could, and then wrapped his arms around her waist, contemporarily kissing her neck softly. It was now or never, and he collected all the Gryffindor bravery he could muster to face this possibly life-changing moment.

She yelped, and threw the pan with the bacon in the air in the process.

Harry laughed merrily, and with a wave of his hand nothing was spilled, and the pan was again on the fire.

“Harry James Potter!” she shrieked, turning and ready to launch into one of her lectures about it, but she was met with his best boyish grin, and couldn't help the smile forming on her own lips.

She barely noticed that she was still somewhat in his arms, and the thought registered in her mind as a wonderfully pleasurable feeling.

“Good morning” he said, looking her straight in the eyes, and she gulped at the raw emotion she saw there.

“G-good morning to you too” she squeaked, then busied herself with the toast, finally leaving his embrace, albeit quite reluctantly, she had to admit.

Harry took a deep breath. He walked again behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Let me do it” he said, guessing his declaration of love would have to wait at least till after breakfast. “You had a rough night, you shall rest”

“What about you? I know you barely slept” she countered, turning to face him, and his heart melted right there. She was the one who was Imperiused, almost drugged and forced to be with a pervert who stalked her, and here she was worrying for him not having slept…the woman was incredible, and if possible Harry felt his love for her increase for it.

He smiled, pulling her close. “Hermione, please never change” he said into her hear and he could feel her shiver as his hot breath tickled her.

Then, as he released her, he seized his chance, and bent his head down, capturing her lips with his own. This time, however, it wasn't a friendly peck on the lips. No, this time it was a real kiss and Hermione's eyes widened.

Could he be interested…no, no way, I'm not beautiful enough… she thought, but then she felt his tongue gently run over her lower lip, and any coherent thought left her brain. She gave him access and started battling his tongue with her own, burying one hand into his unruly black mane of hair, the other roaming on his back, quite muscular back she noted to herself, while he was caressing her sides, slowly making the kiss hotter and hotter.

She whimpered when they had to part for lack of oxygen, and promptly attacked his mouth again after taking a deep breath, now running her hands over his broad chest, strengthened by years of Quidditch, Auror training and then field missions.

She gently nibbled on his lower lip, eliciting a groan from his throat. Soon later, it was her who moaned into his mouth as he cupped her right breast, never breaking the kiss.

Soon the smell of burnt bacon filled their nostrils and they had to break apart to take care of it. Hermione ran to get the pan but it was too late.

“Here goes our breakfast” she dejectedly said, throwing the blackened bacon into the rubbish bin.

“We can go grab a bite out” Harry suggested, grinning madly. Her actions left little doubt that she felt the same about him, and his heart swelled at the thought.

She turned, and blushed seeing his grin, knowing very well what he was thinking about.

“So…” she started, unsure of what to say, shuffling her feet embarrassedly. He raised her chin, and looked her in the eyes. Merlin, those green orbs of his could always make her insides melt…

“So…” he said, just a bit more confidently. “Hermione, if you regret what had happened minutes ago…” he said, very gentleman-like, although he hoped with all himself that she didn't.

“Of course I don't” she said, caressing his cheek. “I just never expected you to like me this way, to reciprocate my feelings” she shyly said.

“Hermione, you don't have idea how much I really like you” he huskily said, and she gulped. That glint in his eyes was back, and she couldn't help the thrill of hotness that travelled down her body to settle between her legs. “But I have every intention to show you” he added then. Finally, he sighed, moving his forehead away from hers just an inch.

“I'm sorry it took me so much before admitting it. We could have had years together already…” he said, closing his eyes, clearly berating himself for it. Hermione knew him all too well to know he would easily feel guilty about things that weren't his fault, and while this particular thing might have been his fault, after all it was him who chose not to tell her his feelings, it wasn't something they couldn't fix. Plus, she never revealed her feelings, so they were both at fault there.

She placed a finger on his lips, silencing him.

“Harry, we are still young, we have all life in front of us. We can still have years together” she said, moving closer to him. “And we have all the time of the world to talk about it, too, but right now I'd be really happy if you would just shut up and kiss me again”

“Yes ma'am” Harry grinned with a mock military salute that made her giggle softly, before he hungrily kissed her again.

Hermione was right, they had lots of years ahead of them to spend together, and he knew then that he was going to have his greatest wish come true. They were going to have a family together, one day, and he couldn't wait for that moment to arrive.

For now, though, the important thing was that they had finally found each other.

“I love you” he murmured against her lips as he pulled back just for a moment.

“I love you too” she said, her milk chocolate eyes sparkling with sheer happiness, before claiming his lips once more.

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