10 Things I Hate About You

gryffindor-girl

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 23/03/2008
Last Updated: 23/03/2008
Status: completed

Purely a bit of fluff I found under the couch. All blame should go to the chocolate plot bunnies. Hermiones POV, Oneshot, Post DH minus epilogue. Slightly OOC in parts coz the kids are grown up, rating for swears.

Chapters

1. 10 Things I Hate about You

1. 10 Things I Hate about You

A/N: Purely a bit of fluff I found while dusting. Think of it as a ~00*Happy Easter*00~ present from me if you’re looking to kill some time. I wrote it after watching two teen movies in a row so brush your teeth afterwards kids. And those with a dairy intolerance might wanna stay away from the cheese. Some angst too though, go figure. Hope you don’t hate it x

Mainly inspired by the poem scene from the movie ’10 things I hate about you’ starring Julia Stiles and the late great Heath Ledger. Moments silence for our Heath – gone too soon : -(

WARNINGS: Rating purely for the naughty words.

Disclaimer: If this world were mine, I would stop the wars, cure world hunger and disease and put Harry and Hermione together in the Harry Potter books. But none of it is. Mine, that is. Sorry.

**Note in response to reviews: Harry IS a little OOC (out of character) I know, I have this whole back story for him in my head as to why but I didn’t fit it in...just assume that he’s changed a lot since the war. He’s lightened up a bit, is more confident and less of a martyr. H/G & R/Hr never really got off the ground – was just a blip on the radar. Ah don’t we wish.

10 things I hate about you.

One.

I hate it when you tease me.

When he comes home after Quidditch practice, he always apparates straight into the kitchen.

I’m sitting at the table with my back to him but I know it’s him because Georgia and Susan look up and stop talking immediately, getting that look on their faces. I turn around.

He’s thrown us a cursory glance before mumbling a quick hi and then shrugging out of his outer Quidditch robes. They land with a squelch at his feet then he’s reaching his long arms up over his head, pulling his shirt up from between his shoulder blades, the way that boys do.

I look away then, back to the girls who’ve forgotten we were in the middle of a conversation and are grinning mindlessly over my shoulder as he strips his wet training top off and throws it straight into the front loader washing machine.

I roll my eyes and grab a lollipop from our pile of sweets while I patiently wait for the entertainment that is my flatmate to make himself scarce. I’m resigned to the fact that any conversation is pointless now until he’s gone.

So I turn back to watch him as he bends over to undo his chin guards. I frown at the gloves he’s dumped on the kitchen bench next to the clean dishes in the dish drainer and he catches me, looking up through the hanging forelock of his hair that still manages to be messy -and even blacker than usual- when it’s wet.

“Girls night?”

I nod. I’m finding the play of muscles on his back as he keeps working on the chin guards profoundly irritating, so I look away again, studying my lollipop. It’s strawberry, bright pink. I answer without looking at him.

“Chick flick fest.”

I hear him snort slightly. “More dance movies?”

The girls actually giggle and I scowl at them. “Step Up is more than just a ‘dance movie.’” I sit back in my chair, still facing away from him and I can feel my lips pouting around the lollipop stick. I don’t even know why I’m defending that bloody movie; I only watched it because something about Channing Tatum reminds me of... well. How long does it take to put a load of washing on anyway?

I hear him laugh as he turns the dial on the machine and then the lollipop is leaving my mouth.

I whirl around in shock and he’s grinning down at me, all wet hair and smooth bare chest and offensively low slung Quidditch pants. Grinning around MY lollipop stick, that he now has in his mouth.

“Hey! Give it back!”

I’m reaching up for it and he grabs my forearm, keeping me easily at bay. It frustrates me and I stand and make a better effort, up on tiptoes now because he’s pulled it out from between his lips, holding it high and smiling widely as he keeps me away. I know I’m getting unnecessarily cross over a stupid lollipop and I should just give it to him but he’s holding it just a few inches away from me every time, and I’m sure I can just grab it soon and stop this ridiculous dance we’re doing but it keeps eluding me.

“Harry! Don’t be an asshole.”

The words are out before I realise and he stops, and raises his eyebrows at me. I can hear some sort of muffled sound from the girls but I ignore it, determined to stand my ground now. He puts the lollipop back in his mouth and locks eyes with me. The stick moves a little and I guess that’s because he’s winding his tongue over it. He watches me as he pulls it out with a smack of his lips, and holds it just in front of my face.

“Here.”

I freeze, knowing the next move is mine. He smiles at me, realising exactly the same thing I think, waiting for my response. I set my mouth in a determined line and snatch the lollipop from his hand, placing it straight into my mouth. It’s warm, and I try not to think about what his tongue had been doing to it mere seconds before.

He gives a short amused huff and I risk a glance at the girls, who’re looking more enthralled than any expression I’ve seen from them during our movie marathons. I turn and push at Harry a little more forcefully then I intend.

“Go and have a shower. Stinky.”

He smiles and then to my mortification, stoops to wrap his arms around my hips, picking me up and rubbing his face and hair all over my shoulder like a wet dog drying his coat on the carpet. I squeal, embarrassingly high pitched, as he spins me around, before dumping me unceremoniously back on my feet.

He turns and strides out of the room then calls back over his shoulder.

“You love it!”

I shake my head and kick my chair back to fall into it again, trying to calm my blood which seems to be running hotly through my veins and up to my face. I avoid the girls gaze until Susan clears her throat.

“He..”

She waits so long to continue, I finally look at her.

“...must be a distraction.”

Georgia grins and is nodding giddily. “Oh. My. God! He is so hot!”

I can’t help but smile at her lack of eloquence. I shake my head again.

“He’s a pain in the arse.”

Susan rolls her eyes as Georgia looks mortified. “Oh yeah, sure, it must be horrible for you, half naked sex god wandering around your kitchen at all hours.”

“Shh!” I wave my hand to her and glance at the door. “Shut up. His ego doesn’t need to hear stuff like that.”

Susan arches a knowing eyebrow at me and I push up from the table too quickly.

“Come on.” I snatch up the bag of lollipops. “Let’s watch the movies.”

~~**~~

Two.

I hate it when we’re alone.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Food.”

“Har har.”

“Bolognaise.”

He leans over my shoulder, sticks his finger in the pot I’m stirring and then licks it, his mouth too close to my ear. He’s just had a shower and I can smell the soap on his skin, the spice of the underarm deodorant, the scent of that goddamn fragrance I should never have got him for Christmas on his neck.

“Nice.”

Indeed.

He just leans there and starts talking about his day now. I push away from the counter and pick up the wine bottle to tip some more into my glass.

He fills up the kitchen too much with his long legs and broad shoulders and I wish he’d move. I wish Ron would walk in right now or Luna or both of them. But I know they’re still sitting on the couch, legs wound around each other, fingers entwined as always. I have to stir the pot again so I go back to the stove top.

His fingertips on my upper arm make me breathe in a little sharply, but I manage to stop myself from flinching. I stare steadily ahead as his finger hooks under the thin strap of my singlet, that’s fallen down off my shoulder. This top always does that.

He drags it back up my arm to rest where it should, running his finger possibly accidentally over my shoulder blade before he finally takes his hand away.

The same hand starts making its way to the pot again and I reach out and smack it sharply. He draws back and laughs, then grabs his beer off the bench, finally walking out and leaving me alone.

~~**~~

Three

I hate it when you call.

“What’re you doing?”

“Boring reports.”

“Meet me for lunch.”

“I can’t.”

“Come on we’ll be quick.”

“I can’t Harry.”

“Nerd.”

“Jock.”

“Hey – Did you hear about Lavender?”

“Yeah, pregnant right?”

“Yeah, Seamus just told us all.”

“Whoa... how did that happen?”

“Well, when the Mummy Bee and the Daddy Bee really really love each other...”

“Funny. I mean, I thought Seamus wasn’t even sure he should be with her, last I heard.”

“Yeah well... he better be sure now.”

“Mmm.”

“Come to lunch.”

“Can’t.”

“Come on. Don’t be boring.”

“I can’t. I already said no to Sebastian.”

“Great that means you’re totally free then.”

“No.”

“Go on. I’ve only got a couple of hours then I’m training all night. I’ll be your best friend.”

“You’re already my best friend.”

“Yeah, but please?”

“I said no.”

“But you mean...yes.”

“You suck you know.”

“I know. But we’ll go Thai. Get those little toast things.”

“Five minutes, make sure you’re there.”

“You’re the best. My treat.”

~~**~~

Four

I hate it when you don’t.

I don’t like being the centre of attention like this, it’s unnerving. I’ve picked up a cloth napkin and am fidgeting with it while I grin and bear everyone coming up to me, laughing and congratulating themselves on being able to surprise me by turning up to this dinner for my birthday.

Some of them bring up presents and it’s awful – it’s not even my birthday for a few days.

“Thanks.” I smile woodenly. Sebastian is grinning at me, so proud of himself and I force my smile a little wider. I catch sight of Ron and I wonder where Harry is.

“So did I surprise you?” Sebastian winds his arm around my waist and presses me to his side while he kisses my temple.

I nod because it’s true.

Ron comes over then and I fall gratefully into his hug.

“Happy Birthday Mione.” I even forgive that nickname and stay wrapped in his familiar warmth for a moment. He smiles down at me and gives me a kiss then steps back for Luna to embrace me too.

“Harry says he’s sorry he can’t come – they’ve got a game tonight; Caerphilly in Wales.”

I see him throw a distinct look at Sebastian but it’s gone in a moment and he tucks my hair behind my ear affectionately. “But we’ll all have our own thing anyway” he says in a lower tone.

I nod numbly and sit down at the table. The restaurant is beautiful, French cuisine and very expensive. I hate it when they bring a cake out and sing and I look around for Harry then, to share a cringe, forgetting for a moment that he’s not there. He’d hate this too.

I excuse myself to go to the bathroom and Sebastian runs his hand down my arm, then squeezes my fingers. I smile at him and touch his hair before I walk off, I know he meant well.

The chefs in the steaming kitchen have their heads bent as I pass and I notice they’re listening intently to a crackly radio as they work. I step close to the door frame and listen. Quidditch commentary.

I glance over my shoulder and then move closer, to hear more.

~~**~~

Five

I hate it when you stare at me.

I should stop eating this popcorn. I just can’t though, it’s too good.

Harry’s hand collides with mine as he pushes into the huge paper bag on my lap and grabs a handful of popcorn. I turn to look at him.

He’s sitting slouched down in the seat, his legs sprawled out in front of him because we always sit at the front of the back section of seats so he can stretch his legs out. He’s transfixed by the screen, picking popcorn out of one hand with the other and putting it into his mouth.

I frown at his feet, clothed in flip flops. It’s only spring. He has faded jeans on, a long sleeved top and a beanie. Flip flops and a beanie. I can’t help but smile.

The light from the movie flickers over his face as he keeps feeding himself popcorn and I’m just about to look away when he throws some at me, not taking his eyes off the screen but smiling slightly.

I whip my head back around, concentrating on the movie again.

A few more scenes and then I unwrap a lollipop, slouching down further in my chair too now.

The story is getting pretty intense and I sit immobile while a crucial bit plays out, the lollipop poised just in front of my lips. I don’t think about what I must look like until I get that being watched feeling, and I turn to see Harry studying me intently.

I frown at him and sit up straighter. I shouldn’t be able to tell how green his eyes are in this low light. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t wear glasses anymore.

He grins and reaches for my lollipop and I try and swat him away but he’s determined. He grabs it out of my mouth and puts it straight into his and I shake my head, making a tsk noise but just reaching for another.

I unwrap it and stick it in my mouth, leaning my elbow on the armrest between us with my hand subtly covering my face. I think I hear him laugh a bit, but the movie isn’t funny.

~~**~~

Six

I hate it when you lie.

He’s pissed off. I can tell.

He just shuts the drawers a bit harder when he puts away the cutlery, and he isn’t laughing or teasing with me. I think he’s trying not to be pissed off. That doesn’t mean he isn’t.

We’re at the Burrow, drying the dishes. Molly always laughs that we do it ‘the muggle way’ but she’s given up trying to stop us now. It’s just the way I was brought up – you don’t let someone make you a beautiful dinner like Molly always does and then let her clean up, even when she could do it with a flick of her wand. And it just feels wrong for me to use my wand for it to, so I always grab a tea towel and Harry always helps me. Ron laughs at us too and heads for the lounge or to the porch with his Dad.

“What’s up with you?”

To his credit he seems surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what’s wrong. You’re pissed off at something.”

He studies me, sizing me up, looking like he’s trying to decide if he should tell me something. It makes me unbearably nervous and I instantly wish I hadn’t said anything.

I reach past him for another dish.

“It’s about Sebastian.”

His tone annoys me.

“What about him.”

“Martin said he saw him out on Friday night.”

“So?”

He looks uncomfortable then, and shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“So, he wasn’t alone.”

I can feel my face starting to warm and I shut a cupboard door a little too forcefully too.

“What are you getting at Harry? Are you really listening to gossip and rumors?”

He leans against the bench and folds his arms; I get the strangest impression that it’s to stop himself from grabbing me.

“ No, I’m listening to Martin, who I trust. And I’m telling you, who I care about, what he said.”

I mirror his stance, leaning on the opposite bench with my arms folded. His eyes are flashing at me and he looks barely controlled. I feel the same way, because it’s taking all my control not to apparate on the spot. My voice comes out quiet and low, and not like mine.

“And what did he say.”

A strange sadness crosses his eyes for a moment, then he sets his jaw and looks determined.

“He said he was there with that Catherine girl. From his office.”

My stomach drops but I grit my teeth not to show it.

“So?”

“Jesus Hermione, I don’t have to spell it out to you.”

I glare at him, barely restraining myself.

“You” I say, in that strange voice again, “Have never liked Sebastian.”

He laughs; a harsh sound devoid of humour.

“Yeah well, that’s because he’s a fuckwit.”

My mouth almost drops open. I stare at him dumbfounded for a moment, then push away from the bench.

“Nice, Harry. Real nice.” I turn on the spot.

~~**~~

Seven

I hate how much you make me laugh.

I hear him bang through the front door; hear the clump of his boots being thrown under the coat rack. I try not to smile and sink my hands into the hot water of the kitchen sink.

He comes in and grabs my head, planting a kiss in my hair. I hate that big brother kiss, he always does it. Though I’m glad there’s no ill will between us from the other night at the Burrow. We both seem to have decided to just pretend the argument didn’t happen.

“Hi.”

“Good day?”

“Yeah fine, you?”

“Nothing exciting.”

I can tell he’s standing in front of the fridge, staring into it but probably not actually seeing anything as both my boys do when they come home. Then I hear him laugh.

“Why do you always do that?”

I turn around to his question and he’s gesturing at the sink. I look back and grab another plate to wash, knowing what he’s talking about.

“I don’t know. I think I find it more satisfying I guess.”

“Hmm.” He finally finds some cold chicken and brings it over to the bench next to me, picking at it while he talks. “I suppose. But I know if I’d had magic to do my housework when I was young, I sure as hell would’ve used it on everything.”

I smile and look at him then, feeling an overwhelming sadness for the Harry I didn’t know, placed in a cupboard under some stairs. He glances at me quickly and I get the sense he feels like he just shared too much. I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable so I grab a handful of white foamy suds and place them on his nose.

He turns to look at me with wide eyes then laughs, swiping the suds off.

“You’re asking for it you know.”

I arch an eyebrow at him and then quicker than I can react, he’s grabbed my wrists with one of his hands and is scooping a new handful of suds from the sink with the other. I shriek and try and lean back but I don’t get far before he pushes it right into my face.

I stare at his laughing face through the suds and then reach for my wand.

“Oh, you’re so dead.”

I aim an Engorgio spell at the soap suds and they start spilling out of the sink in all directions.

“Oi, where’s the satisfaction in that?” he says, grinning as he backs away around the dining table and I grab an armful of suds, chasing him. I throw them and miss; they’re not very aerodynamic.

He dodges around me and grabs an armful himself, dumping them on my head and getting away before I can blink. I can’t even see him now, so I aim my wand in the direction of the sink and flick it towards the sound of his laughter.

I wipe my eyes to see him absolutely covered in suds from head to toe, looking like the abominable snowman. I crack up laughing, bending over double as he blows out some air and sends suds flying away from his mouth so he can speak.

“That’s it.”

I shriek again but I’m laughing too much to run as he comes towards me, arms out and wraps his arms around me. I try to struggle away but then he slips on the now wet floor, and I fall with him, both of us landing with a loud thump on the kitchen floor.

There’s no sound for a bit while we both do that silent laugh that hurts your stomach. His arm is still around my waist, his other hand comes up to wipe his face. I can’t stop laughing, and when my mouth is open, he shoves some suds in.

This is how Ron finds us, laughing hysterically, soaking wet and covered in suds and water, the whole kitchen a complete bombsite. He freezes in the doorway looking from me to Harry and back.

“O-kay...”

His eyes take in the whole scene, and then he turns and darts back out into the hallway.

Harry and I look at each other, and share a glance of agreement.

We jump up at the same time and give chase.

“Get him.”

~~**~~

Eight.

I hate how you make me cry.

“I love this song!”

Georgia grabs my hand and starts pulling me towards the dance floor. I grin and let her, I like this song too, it’s the Amy Winehouse version of Valerie.

We dance together, pretty unimpressively and arrive back afterwards breathless and laughing to sit down in our booth again next to Ron, Luna, Neville and Ginny, who’s not drinking because she’s pregnant. Harry is talking to some girl I don’t know but he throws me a smile.

I take a drink and look around for Sebastian, but I can’t see him.

An hour later he’s still nowhere to be seen and the bar is getting less crowded. Harry gets me another drink and we’re all talking and having a good time but I can’t stop glancing around.

“Do you want me to go look for him?”

Harry’s bent close, his eyes looking into mine.

“Ah, oh no it’s fine, he’ll turn up.”

He must read my mind because he stands up. “I’ll go look for him.”

He’s gone for quite a while too and now I’m glancing around for both of them. I sigh and stand up, telling Susan I’m going to the bathroom.

When I get to corridor, I have to push past a few people who are crowded in the narrow space, all appearing to be watching something. I frown and squeeze through.

There are two people fighting in the corridor. I frown in distaste then one of them gets thrown against the wall with a resounding thud and I’m shocked to see it’s Sebastian.

“Se...” I start to call out to him but my words stick in my throat when I see it’s Harry who he’s fighting with.

“Harry!?”

My voice distracts him and Sebastian aims a punch at his jaw. Harry dodges a bit and avoids the full force of it, grappling Sebastian to the ground. I’m absolutely dumbstruck, and go to summon my wand automatically before I realise we’re in a muggle pub, and I can’t do anything anyway.

“Harry, stop!!”

I’m scared now; I can see how angry he is. Thankfully two bouncers make their way through the crowd then, and start to pull them apart.

Sebastian is breathing heavily, his brow split and his nose bleeding.

“You’re fucking crazy Potter.”

Harry doesn’t say anything but goes for him again and the two bouncers concentrate on holding him back. They herd both of them out of the corridor and to the front of the pub and I follow, waving out to Ron on the way. They’re both chucked roughly into the street.

Sebastian storms off to hail a cab and I call out to him but he doesn’t respond. I look back around to Harry who’s breathing heavily through his nose, watching me.

“What the HELL was that??”

He shakes his head but says nothing.

“Harry?”

“You deserve so much better than that Hermione.”

A white hot anger washes through me and I step right up to him.

“And who put YOU in charge of that? You...you think... what gives you the right?!! I hate...”

I can’t speak properly in my rage and I swipe angrily at hot tears that have come out of nowhere. He’s watching me steadily, frowning down into my face but listening.

“Don’t! I hate this whole...big brother thing you do to me Harry! I don’t want it anymore! I hate this! What you do to me, every day Harry you torture me!”

He looks confused and I have to admit I don’t blame him; I have no idea what I’m saying anymore, the words are just coming out in a never ending stream.

“You can’t play with me like you do. I’m sick of it. I’m so sick of it.” I’m crying pretty hard now and I’m ashamed and embarrassed but I don’t know how to stop.

“Hermione, I...”

“You have no idea, no idea what you do to me. I just want you to leave me alone.”

His face falls and then he steps closer still and grabs my arms. His eyes are flashing angrily but then he gets this look, and he drops his head, his face leaning close to mine, inches away from my lips. Our eyes lock.

I whip my arms up and push him forcefully by his shoulders. I force my next words out through clenched teeth.

“Don’t you DARE.” I turn and walk away; I briefly notice Susan and Georgia behind him, coming down the front steps towards me. I look back at Harry, standing there seemingly frozen. I spit out my parting words furiously.

“I don’t want your pity. I deserve better, you said. Better than that.”

I swallow hard before I turn and walk away.

~~**~~

Nine

I hate it how you know me

The roaring crowd just increases the gnawing nervousness in my stomach and find a seat tucked away next to the wall beside Luna. My view through the glass takes in the pitch, and I have a clear view of all five thousand plus people who’ve come to the game.

I don’t know how Harry does this. I get nervous just watching.

Ron passes me a drink and I take off my gloves and grab it gratefully, the red wine warming me up. I look at all the people wrapped up against the cold in the stands outside and am grateful we’re afforded the privilege of a corporate box, being friends of the team.

I watch Falmouth walk out on to the pitch in their dark grey robes, and my eyes automatically follow Harry as he shoots up high above the stadium. Luna hands me the Omnioculars and I take them, though Harry is out of sight now. I’m kind of not interested in the rest of the game so I wander off in my thoughts.

I get a horrible anxious feeling again as I inevitably think of my outburst at Harry the other night. He’s been fine about it, just being kind of polite and cordial to me over the last few days which is awful, I’d really rather he yelled at me and told me what an idiot I was.

But to his credit he hasn’t given a hint of a ‘I told you so’ attitude. Even when he must’ve heard that when I learnt he’d found Sebastian in an uncompromising position with another witch at that pub I broke it off. I hate that I haven’t had the guts to apologise yet, and coming to this game is a bit of a peace offering, I’m working myself up to staging the big apology afterwards, tonight.

The crowd explodes in cheers all of a sudden and I put the Omnioculars up, rewinding the play a bit to see what happened.

Through the magical eyepieces I see Harry, bending low over his broom with an outstretched hand. I gasp as he nearly grazes the ground, then he rolls over and up and I see what the roar was about. Two golden wings are sticking out of his gloved fist.

“Holy – that must be a record!!” Ron’s banging happily on the glass and shouting and I’m in shock, it’s over already. That means soon I have to follow through on my promise to myself to apologise. I feel a little sick.

I watch through the Omnioculars as he alights from his broom, surrounded now by his team mates giving him hugs and clapping their hands on his back and head. He takes it good naturedly and then turns and walks away from them. I frown in confusion, then Luna nudges my arm. I watch Harry turn and look up in our direction before I take the Omnioculars away from my eyes to look at her.

She’s pointing at the pitch. I look down and I’m shocked to see the field is empty; I realise then that I must have still been watching the replay, and therefore behind time. The stadium has been blanketed with an unusual hush and I look around and then back to the field.

It’s not empty. Harry is still there, but just him. He’s taken his wand out and I wonder what he’s doing, raising the Omnioculars once again.

He has this determined look on his face and I feel this eerie sense of foreboding.

Then he starts making swirls and loops with his wand and a bright gold trail leaves the end of it. What is he doing?

He’s writing something, in the air. I watch his progress with interest through the eyeholes, thinking maybe this is some weird Quidditch ritual I know nothing about. I pull the Omnioculars down again to see what he’s written.

In large shimmering letters now rising from the pitch are the words;

‘In Love with You Hermione Granger’

My mouth falls comically open. I’m vaguely aware of Luna smiling serenely next to me. I look through the Omnioculars again, just because I don’t know what else to do.

He’s standing there, looking up and right at me, his arms spread wide. The crowd is cheering insanely but I get the feeling he doesn’t notice, his expression is unfathomably sad.

He raises his wand and begins to point it to his throat and I’m mortified, I want to stop him but I couldn’t actually move or talk right now if my life depended on it.

I hear his voice clearly over the stadium.

“Hermione. I know you won’t like this, but I don’t care. I’ve been trying to figure out how to prove to you... how to show you what I feel so that you’ll believe me. You know this is the last thing I’d wanna do.. out here, but it’s because I don’t care who knows how I feel about you.”

“I love you. I’ve loved you all along. It’s why I act the way I do, its why I do anything. It’s why I breathe in and out every day. It’s the only thing about me that’s stayed the same and always will. I’ll always be in love with you.”

“It doesn’t matter how you feel about me. And I’m sorry – about all this.” He grins sheepishly then, and shrugs. “I just wanted to let you know.”

He starts walking then, away from the letters that are still glittering brightly in the middle of the pitch, and towards the tunnel. The crowd have erupted again, and he grins and shakes his head, then lifts his broom up to acknowledge them.

In a daze I turn to look at all the faces in the room, staring unabashedly at me. Ron has a dumb grin on his face and Luna rubs my arm. Feeling hasn’t returned to my limbs yet and I just sit there, frozen and bewildered.

Ron steps forward and gently grabs my arms, helping me rise from my seat. He looks down into my eyes, smiling.

“So?”

~~**~~

Ten.

I hate it when I fall.

My footsteps ring loudly off the concrete walls as I run through the dark damp tunnel; head whipping side to side to check the signs on the doors.

I’m glad there’s no one around anymore, too many heads turned to look at me as I ran down here, but I was going fast enough that I just heard snippets of what they said before I was gone.

“...her!!”

“....there, look!”

“..Granger, that’s...”

Now I’m in the deserted corridors under the stadium it’s much better, though the fact that it’s so empty makes me worry that it means that Harry’s not here.

Finally I find a sign – ‘Falcons Change Rooms’. It’s what the guard at the end of the tunnel told me to look for, after he’d given me a knowing smile that I tried not to notice.

I’m about to open the door when two wizards come out; I recognise them as Harrys’ team mates. They both stop when they see me, then get the same grin as the guard on the tunnel door. The tallest one waves me inside.

“He’s in there.”

I mumble a thanks and move past them quickly.

He’s standing in front of a locker, behind the open door, but I recognise his jeans and shoes. He bangs it shut and then notices me, and he freezes, just staring.

I’m frozen too, after my desperate flight to find him, I can’t think of anything to say.

He runs a hand through his wet hair and faces me, rubbing his shoulder unconsciously.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” I manage that, and feel quite proud of myself. Suddenly I remember my plan for after the game and I think of something to say.

“I’m sorry.”

He looks puzzled. “Your sorry?”

I nod, feeling ridiculous. “For the other night. For yelling at you. Especially when...well you were right.”

He pushes a hand through his hair again and shrugs. “It was...I’m sorry about that night too. I didn’t handle that well.”

I nod again and we both stand there in silence, not looking at each other. Finally he speaks.

“I’m sorry too. About...tonight.”

I shake my head. “No you...” I steel myself and look into his eyes. “You don’t need to be.”

He watches me carefully. Then he smiles. “I can’t believe you came in here apologising to me.”

I smile too now, and it’s a relief to. “Well, it was something I needed to do.”

He nods and grins at me.

“Nerd.”

I close my eyes for a moment, then smile.

“Jock.”

He moves slightly towards me and then I rush at him. I wish I had more restraint, could make him wait it out, but when it comes to Harry I have no self control. It’s something I’ve always hated about him.

But I don’t hate this. I don’t hate my hands in his hair or his arms under my thighs, lifting me up. I don’t hate him kissing all over my face, or crushing my lips till I’m out of breath.

I don’t hate that at all.

~~**~~

I hate it when you tease me.

I hate when we’re alone.

I hate it when you call

I hate it when you don’t.

I hate it when you stare at me

I hate it when you lie

I hate how much you make me laugh

I hate how you make me cry.

I hate it how you know me

I hate it when I fall

But most of all I hate how much I don’t hate you

Not even close,

Not even a little bit,

Not at all.

(poem a sorta modified version of the film one, so half mine.)

Thanks for reading x