AN - Well, I was pretty bored and didn't feel like updating any of my other fics, so I was just looking through PK's archive of H/Hr challenges, and I found a random one somewhere which I wanted to respond to. I won't tell you what challenge I took up right now, but as a disclaimer I'm saying that the song in the next chapter was not my idea, but everything else, the plot etc. is entirely mine.
And I know Cho is 1 year ahead of Harry and she would have been out of school by this time, but she's not. She's at school so deal with it. Some of you (probably most of you) will find Hr OOC, but anyways, please, please review... It takes around twenty seconds out of the 86,400 seconds you have in a day. So, review, people!!
Harry sighed as he skimmed through the photo album Hagrid had given him at the end of his first year. It had expanded significantly since then ; a house to all of his best memories at Hogwarts, as well as some of his not so cherished ones.
He had received the precious album, which initially contained pictures of his parents and their friends, some time after he fought Quirrell, at the end of term feast in his first year. Shortly, he would be going to the Great Hall to attend the Graduation Party that was held for the seventh year outgoing batch.
He was graduating?
He was leaving Hogwarts?
Some small, vague part of his brain and heart kept telling him this was a trick, he wasn't really leaving the only home he had ever known in his life.
He was sitting in a comfortable armchair in the Gryffindor common room with all of his guy friends. Ron had tricked some unlucky fourth year into playing chess with him. Dean and Seamus and some other sixth years were playing a game of Exploding Snap, and Neville was sitting in another squashy seat beside the fire, humming a tune to himself and reading a Herbology book. Dean, Seamus and Neville were waiting for their dates, who were still in the girls dormitory getting ready. Harry and Ron decided to stay along with them so that they could enter the Great Hall together, after picking up their Ravenclaw dates.
Harry shuddered at the thought of dates. He was already seen as the only hope against Voldemort, and after Voldemort snuffed it at the end of Harry's sixth year, the name Harry Potter had become legendary. He still remembered the headlines of newspapers all over the world. 'Seventeen year old legend demolishes Dark Lord', 'Hero with the Scar', 'Voldeadmort, Thank You Harry,' were some of them. Because of all that, his dating prospects had increased to the degree of disturbing. Women, left, right and centre of all ages kept throwing themselves at him, desperate to carry on a relationship with him or even to satisfy his needs for one night.
This left a thoroughly disgusted Harry, who didn't want any of the attention or any of these women fawning over him. His real depression was due to the fact that the only woman he knew that actually understood him, the only woman he knew that saw him for him and not some famous hero, had become increasingly distant and withdrawn over the past one year since Voldemort's death.
His heart started beating faster as he saw a picture of him, Ron and Hermione a few hours after he had brought down Voldemort. They were standing together on the stone steps of the castle, waving at the camera and grinning. Hermione was in the middle, surrounded by her two boys, her arms around them as she smiled.
Tears started welling up in Harry's eyes as he saw her beautiful smile, her chocolate-brown eyes full of life and laughter, her messy chestnut-brown hair falling all over her face. How long had it been since he saw her like that, in her natural, carefree mood? How long was it since he had seen that heart-stopping smile directed his way, a smile that was guaranteed to make him swoon? He missed his beautiful Hermione.
At first, she had seemed happy enough like everyone else, rejoicing in the end of the era of terror and fear. But as the weeks rolled by, he noticed a permanent aura of sadness about her ; sadness in the way she talked, walked, studied...
Harry knew that probably no one would be able to notice this frightening change in Hermione's behaviour, only the people who really knew her would be able to spot it. Which meant that he was the first one to notice, and some time later Ron pointed out that he had noticed something off about Hermione. They both cornered her one evening and did everything they could to find out what was bothering her, but she said everything was fine. From outside, it did look as though everything was fine, for Hermione was maintaining her usual amazing standard in her academics, she always vented her opinions about everyday things at breakfast, she always turned up for their Quidditch practice wearing a snug, comfortable sweater with an enormous tome in her hands. But, to Harry, it seemed as though she was being forced into doing these things, as though she would like nothing more to do than isolate herself completely from everyone and be alone.
He was thinking about things, mainly thinking about Hermione. All the things she had done for him, all the times she had stood at his side without hesitation, even when Ron refused to do so. Had he even once thanked her, even once told her how much she meant to him? How her friendship was the most important thing to him?
He just took it for granted that she would always support him, he took it for granted that her life revolved around him, when in fact, she had a life of her own. When he was down and out, she would be the first one to lift his chin up and make him feel better. She always gave and gave and gave, with no thought of receiving something in return. Couldn't he do the same for her?
Harry continued shifting through the album as he remembered the day when he decided to talk to Hermione alone, to thank her for being there. It was a cold December evening, the Gryffindor Quidditch players had just come back after a brutal training session. Ron had gone straight to the kitchens with Luna and the other members had gone straight to their dorms.
Harry walked along a secret passage the Marauders had discovered. He had a horrible practice, his glasses kept getting fogged and his team mates were doing no better. All of the female spectators kept trying to distract him. He had all kinds of ludicrous offers from all these girls, who were carrying placards that captioned their willingness to worship all things Harry Potter. At least twenty of them were holding a big sign that said they would love nothing more than to ride his broomstick. Harry got the funny feeling that it wasn't his Firebolt they were referring to.
Usually after practice the girls would hound him, and he would go straight to Hermione, so that they might be discouraged and leave him alone. Hermione would give them a stern glare and they would generally back off. Harry smiled as he recalled all the times this had happened. Even for trivial things like Quidditch practice, Hermione would be protecting him from dangerous elements. He would then proceed to hug her, only to be met with that same stern glare telling him to not even think about hugging her till he had showered and changed. He always would give her the same sheepish look and start making his way to the changing rooms, but then he would abruptly turn back and give Hermione a playful hug, to which she would shriek quite loudly.
However, this time the flock of girls was much more than the usual amount and he wasn't able to get to Hermione fast enough. The girls literally fell on top of him, trying to get in as many kisses as they possibly could. He had just managed to shake them off and quickly sprint across the grounds, trying to reach the relative safety of the castle, only to be accosted by another horde of girls. However, what he failed to see was a devastated Hermione standing alone in the Quidditch stands, looking after him with a miserable expression on her face and tears in her eyes.
He entered the portrait hole and was met with an almost empty common room. Not completely empty though. A smile instantly came onto Harry's face as he saw Hermione curled up in the best seat by the fire, with her legs neatly tucked under her. By the looks of it, she was completing her Arithmancy homework and occasionally sipping from her mug of hot chocolate. Harry watched as she tucked an errant curl behind her ear, and continued scribbling at a blinding pace on her parchment. Something delightfully warm bubbled in Harry's chest at the adorable sight before him. For a brief instant, he didn't feel the cold outside as he was momentarily engulfed by the warm feelings brought to him by observing the tranquil beauty of Hermione studying.
He frowned at that thought and wondered briefly when he had started thinking of Hermione as adorable and beautiful. He creeped up behind Hermione, and wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug. She yelped and nearly dropped her mug before settling down. Harry grinned and plopped himself down beside her.
'Don't do that again, Harry,' Hermione said, without looking at him.
'Okay, Hermione dear,' Harry said mockingly.
A faint blush appeared on Hermione's cheeks, which went unnoticed by Harry.
At this point, Harry noticed that Hermione, in fact, was not doing her homework, but was actually reading a magazine. He quickly plucked it out of her hands to see what magazine it was, with the intent of teasing her about it. His jaw dropped when he saw what magazine it was.
'Witch Weekly?!' he said in shock. 'Witch Weekly?!' he exclaimed again, unable to hide the disbelief in his voice. What on Earth was Hermione doing reading that rag? That was for giggling idiots like Parvati and Lavender.
'Give it back, Harry,' Hermione said, her voice eerily calm.
'Come on, spill your secret,' Harry said, not noticing the seriousness in Hermione's tone.
'Give it back, Harry,' Hermione repeated, her voice still calm and now dangerous.
'Come on, Mione, I won't tell anyone, you know me,' Harry replied, still unaware of the growing fury in Hermione's eyes.
'GIVE ME MY FUCKING BOOK BACK, HARRY!' Hermione screamed, and she pounced on him and snatched the book roughly from his unresisting hands. But the thin, glossy magazine tore as she snatched it.
Harry looked on in shock. Hermione never swore. Never ever. She always reprimanded him and Ron for even saying 'Bloody Hell.' He dared himself to look into Hermione's eyes and was terrified at what he saw there. He expected that kind of a look from someone like Malfoy, but it was Hermione who was looking like that at him.
He gulped audibly and held his hands out in what he hoped was a pacifying manner.
Hesitantly, he opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione spoke first.
'It's none of your bloody business what I read or what I don't read,' Hermione said, her nostrils flaring, looking directly at Harry. 'Please don't repeat this again, Harry.'
Harry looked at her for one long moment, trying to figure out what to say. This confirmed his suspicions that Hermione was under some unknown stress, and that she wasn't able to handle it on her own.
'Hermione...'
'Yes?' she replied.
'Please tell me what's wrong with you.'
'What are you talking about? I've already told you and Ron, nothing's bothering me,' Hermione replied, taking her eyes off Harry now.
'Hermione,' Harry said softly, kneeling down in front of her and taking her soft hands into his. He tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach as he felt her smooth palm against his and her dainty little fingers intertwined with his long ones. What was happening to him?
'Please... Please tell me what, no matter how stupid it may be. I want to help. You always help me when I have a problem. Please let me do the same for you, Mione. I'm only your best friend who's trying to help you,' Harry pleaded, not knowing why his heart gave an unpleasant lurch when he said 'only your best friend'.
'I don't have a problem, dammit!' Hermione snarled, not able to think properly with Harry so close to her and hating the sound of the words 'only your best friend'. Was that all she would ever be to him? 'Let go of me!' she wrenched her hands from his and threw the magazine in frustration and left, her eyes quickly dampening.
Harry looked at the magazine that had fallen on the page Hermione was looking at and a thoughtful expression came over his face. It was filled with gorgeous supermodels, who could even be passed off as anorexic. Even then, Harry couldn't help but take a quick glance at their curvaceous bodies which had everything a man could ever want.
'Go on, keep staring at those sluts, that's the kind of women you go for anyways, isn't it?' Hermione spat, a spiteful expression on her face.
Harry looked up. Hermione had come back, she had her hands on her hips, and was staring at him ferociously, as if he had just committed a big mistake. Even then, Harry couldn't help but admire how incredibly sexy Hermione looked at that moment. In his opinion, Hermione was much more attractive than any of these models. Before he could commit any further on that train of thought, whatever Hermione just said registered in his mind. He frowned.
'What are you talking about, Hermione,' Harry asked, truly bewildered.
'Oh, you know very well what I'm talking about! Hot, beautiful, chest popping out right in your face, luscious legs! Those are the only type of women you accept, right?!' Hermione shrieked, tears now dripping down her face.
Harry stood up as well. In spite of seeing Hermione crying, which usually made his heart break, he was now angry as well.
'Well, permit me to refresh your memory. You were the one who was reading this trash, remember? I was reading it to see what you were reading, that's all!' Harry said, his voice getting louder with every word.
A queer, slightly uncertain expression came over Hermione's face. She didn't seem to have listened to a single word that Harry said.
'Do you think they're pretty, Harry?' Hermione asked in a soft voice.
Harry stared at Hermione. He felt that these supermodels were really good looking, but he knew that they probably ate a disgusting three square meals a week to get those figures. Even with his stunted knowledge of women, he knew by instinct that if a girl asked you if another girl was pretty, your immediate answer should be a resounding 'no', no matter what the truth was.
'Hermione, look at these pictures. Look at how slim they are, it's totally unhea-'
'Oh, yeah, of course! Look at how slim they are, that's what you'd go for right? You wouldn't want a fat, ugly woman even if she had a brain in her head, would you?!' Hermione's voice was now high-pitched, and worse, she was crying again.
Harry groaned ; he had no clue what Hermione was talking about or who this ugly person was that he was supposed to want. Add to that the fact that Hermione was crying again for some reason, and Harry was like a fish in a desert. He wanted to shout out to Hermione that the only woman he desired was her, then he slapped himself internally. What was he thinking? Hermione was his best friend, and was off limits. He couldn't tell her that he fancied her! He slapped himself again. He didn't even fancy her! Of course he didn't! Did he?
While Harry was contemplating whatever it was he felt for his best friend, the latter took his silence as agreement, and cried at him, 'I should have known from the start that you were like all other boys. I thought you could see past a girl's exterior and fancy them for what they had inside of them ; for their personality...' she trailed off, looking at Harry morosely.
She turned away from him and made for the girls dorms, but she heard a very cold voice she hadn't for a long time.
'Wait,' Harry hissed, using a tone he never used on anyone, least of all Hermione. Hermione flinched and turned around slowly, looking at Harry with wide, fearful eyes.
'What?' Hermione asked softly, her eyes red and puffy. She started hiccuping.
'I'll ask you one last time,' Harry said, his voice soft and gentle again. 'Tell me what's wrong,' he coaxed.
Hermione knew she couldn't tell him the complete truth, so she decided to tell him only a part of it.
'It's just...' her breath hitched and she gave a small, barely audible hiccup. 'It's just...Can't I be as pre-pretty as th-those girls.. (hic) ..in the magazine?'
Harry felt his heart break into pieces as he heard Hermione ask him that. Hermione was easily much more beautiful than any of those sodding girls and she was tearing herself up over the fact that she thought differently. She actually thought she wasn't as pretty as those girls? Now, a tear dropped from Harry's eye as he saw his usual confident and bold Hermione so nervous and depressed ; anxiously waiting for his answer. He had to reassure her, she had to think she was attractive and desirable. He felt lousy on seeing Hermione so.. so.. broken.
'Hermione, are you kidding me? You're gorgeous. They don't have anything when compared to you. You're beautiful - inside and out. Don't let anyone ever tell you differently,' Harry said.
'Harry, you're so sweet to say those things, but you and me both know the truth. I probably weigh double the amount these girls weigh, I'm probably like ten stone or something,' Hermione said, knowing that this was the truth, but wishing Harry would vehemently contradict her.
'Hermione, look at me,' Harry pulled her into his arms and held her tightly without being suffocating.
'I think you're gorgeous, even Ron does, we've never actually said it to you, because well, that would make a really awkward conversation, wouldn't it?' Harry asked, trying to lighten the mood.
The corners of Hermione's lips quirked upwards into a reluctant, nervous half-smile. She continued looking into his emerald orbs, willing herself not to drown in them.
'I think you're slim, and I certainly don't think you weigh a ton either. I really think you're sexy.' 'Don't,' he added as he saw Hermione opening her mouth to protest.
'Don't deny it. I'm not saying it to make you feel better. I'm saying it because it's the bloody truth,' Harry affirmed.
'Thank you, Harry. I'm still feeling a bit miserable about myself, but you helped,' Hermione sniffled.
'Are you gonna be alright?' Harry asked, kissing her on the top of her head.
'I'll be fine, thanks. Thanks for talking to me,' Hermione said, her forehead tingling at the place where Harry had pressed his lips.
'Hey, that's what me and Ron are for, your older brothers,' Harry said, and instantly wished he could take those words back. He didn't want to be Hermione's older brother, he wanted to be her... Well he didn't know what he wanted to be to her, but certainly not some sibling. His feelings for her recently were almost certainly not that of an older brother. He still had to figure them out for himself, but he started coming to the realization that maybe he fancied her.
***
Hermione mumbled a good-night and walked back to the girls dorms, her heart breaking a little bit more with every step she took away from Harry. A brother! A brother! Harry thought of her as his sister?! She tried her best to shut Harry's last words out of her mind and instead concentrate on the part where Harry told her that he thought she was gorgeous, but to no avail. That's all she would ever be. A small, baby sister that he would have to console every now and then. Harry would date tons of gorgeous girls and she would be there, lurking about, the annoying little sister.
She couldn't stop the tears from flowing out, she sobbed and sobbed as Harry's parting words came back to eat at her. She would never get the person she had now fallen head over heels for. She had been a fool by allowing her heart to win over her head, and falling in love with Harry. Of course he had lied to her about her being slim and gorgeous, he was just saying that to not disappoint his sister. Her headache was increasing rapidly as she kept crying and she wasn't able to think properly for the first time in her life, because the word 'sister' was engraved into her mind by that time.
Since Harry liked those kind of glamorous cover girls, maybe she could work a bit on getting that kind of figure? She wanted to try, maybe she would finally catch Harry's eye? Hermione changed her lifestyle completely from then on. She stopped studying late into the night to get more sleep. She cut down her food intake drastically ; eating two slices of bread and one glass of orange juice for breakfast, she would skip lunch to catch up on the studying she failed to do at night, and for dinner she would have some salad and some raw vegetables. She hated doing this, her stomach growled with hunger at night, keeping her awake for a long time, until she borrowed two of Lavender's belts and tied it tightly around her midriff. Although this hurt a lot, she would cast a pain-numbing charm on herself and fall into an uneasy sleep, dreaming that the next day would be the day Harry noticed how gorgeous she had become.
Sometimes, when her stomach couldn't bare it, she simply had to eat more at dinner as even tying a belt wouldn't help. On those days, after everyone had gone to bed, she would sneak to the bathroom and cast a silencing and locking charm. She would then put a finger down her throat and vomit her dinner so as not to gain that extra unnecessary weight. Sometimes she would skip History of Magic and go to an empty bathroom, weeping. These were the only times she would admit to herself that she hated what she had become, how anorexic she looked. But she kept telling herself that if Harry liked the wafer-thin girls, then she would definitely continue doing this. There was no other option.
None of it worked. None of it. Instead of garnering Harry's admiration for her change, all she received was his concern and endless inquiries about her health. She remembered that day as one of the worst in her life. When she was in her normal state, Harry found her unattractive enough to dub her as his sister. And now, when she had reached size zero, when she had toned herself down like those girls in the magazines, all she received was the same thing, albeit with a little pity and probably disgust.
From then on she avoided Harry like the plague, speaking to him only when absolutely necessary. She regained her normal weight and had to admit it was nice eating to her heart's content. She continued her study hours late into the night and caught up on her sleep during Gryffindor's daily Quidditch practices, which she had stopped watching.
All in all, her life went back to the same way it was before, except this time she no longer had Harry's friendship, the most important thing in her life. Deep down in her heart, she knew that this was a stupid thing to do, but she couldn't bare to face Harry again and she definitely wouldn't be able to cope with seeing Harry with some other girl. Besides, she had had enough of listening to the heart, it had gotten her nowhere the last time. She would use only her ever-reliable brain, there was no place for the heart.
Harry sighed as he adjusted the collar of his tuxedo one last time, his friendship with Hermione had definitely gone downhill since that day. He thought he had comforted her, but there was obviously something he had done which made Hermione really angry at him ; She would speak to him only when required. If he asked anything, she would answer to the point and then continue acting as if he didn't exist.
Initially, he had spent too many days locked up in his dorm room, wondering what he had done wrong. Wondering if his friendship with Hermione, something he valued more than anything else in the world, had reached its end. Things weren't the same anymore for him, everything seemed more diluted, colourless. He didn't enjoy anything he did anymore, because he didn't have Hermione to enjoy it with. Even though he wasn't speaking to Hermione anymore, he still couldn't help but stare at her when he knew she wasn't looking. She was absolutely beautiful. Till some time back, she had looked as if she had gone into a depression of some sort, because she was looking too thin to be healthy, but now she was the old Hermione.
Old Hermione with a few changes. When she had stopped coming to watch the Gryffindor practices for two weeks running, Harry finally lost his temper and decided to let Hermione have it her way. He talked to Hermione only when she talked to him, and since she seemed to employ the same method, it resulted in them never talking.
It was now nearly six months since Harry and Hermione had last talked, Harry reflected as he shut the photo album with a snap. No words were exchanged, nor smiles or hugs. Both of them were perfectly happy to deny that the other existed. The whole school, including the professors, knew that Harry and Hermione had gone from inseparable to completely ignoring each other ; though no one even had an inkling why. Even Ron, quite busy in his new relationship with Luna, couldn't figure out what had happened between his two best friends, and they weren't telling him.
For some strange reason, Harry felt a twisted, vindictive sort of pleasure in flirting and cuddling with other girls in the Gryffindor common room, where Hermione was sure to be studying. He was a reserved person who generally shied away from any public display of affection and usually never go too far with girls, unless he genuinely thought they had a serious, meaningful relationship. He really didn't know why, but he felt quite satisfied discarding these two principles whenever Hermione was around.
Which was how he landed up with Cho Chang. Cho Chang was like a guy's dream come true and was definitely the most sought after girl in Hogwarts. Guys lusted after her, and did all kinds of crazy things to catch her attention. Harry, who was just out of his previous relationship which lasted a month, had asked her to go to the party with him and she had accepted.
She had certainly changed since their disastrous relationship in his fifth year. She was no longer hung up over Cedric's death. She was the captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, had a bunch of followers, and was envied by a lot of girls. Harry had been with her for almost two weeks now, and found that she was really aggressive in the things they did as a couple. She was an excellent kisser and any guy would have nothing to complain about. Yet, in all of Harry's relationships in the last six months, he found something off. Not constantly, but occasionally he felt as though he was in the wrong place. Sometimes he found his mind drawing inexplicably towards Hermione. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like if Hermione was the girl he was holding and kissing. He didn't really understand these feelings, maybe he still fancied her or something.
Hermione had distanced herself from everyone, except to an extent Ron ; and Harry hadn't heard anyone mentioning anything about Hermione's date to the party. Harry felt slightly uncomfortable thinking about Hermione dolling herself up and turning up at the party with some guy.
'Ron!!' a voice squealed and Harry looked up. He watched with a smile as Luna ran into the common room and hugged Ron. He watched as Ron pulled back, his eyes wide open, looking at Luna's beautiful grey, sequined dress.
'Luna, you look- you look, wow!' Ron gasped, his breath coming in short bursts. Luna smiled softly at him and took his hand in hers. Luna wasn't graduating till next year, but she was going as Ron's date.
'Weren't we supposed to come and pick you up in your common room?' Ron asked, smirking at Luna. 'Or you found out that you needed to be in my sexy presence as soon as possible?' he continued.
'Hmm, your ego certainly couldn't fit in my common room, that's why I came to yours,' Luna replied vaguely. She turned to Harry.
'Isn't Hermione down here yet?' Luna asked, her voice losing its dreamy quality.
'I don't know, I guess her date, whoever he is, is gonna come by and pick her up later,' Harry replied, disinterestedly.
Luna was about to add something more, when someone else entered the common room. Harry's jaw dropped. It was Cho. Even he had to admit, she looked wicked. She wore a short, tight red number, that left almost nothing to the imagination. The dress dipped just below her waist, exposing the entire length of her unbelievable, goddess-like legs. The cut of the dress was amazingly low, showing a huge amount of her ample cleavage and not to mention it was a backless piece. She used some black eyeliner, giving her a smoky look, and finished it off with a pair of four inched white pumps. Cho could certainly make another girl turn from confident about herself into an insecure wreck.
'Harry...' Cho smiled at him, then proceeding to give him a slow, languorous kiss.
'Cho, you look amazing,' Harry said.
'Thanks, hun,' Cho said lazily. Movement at the top of the girls staircase caught her eye, and she grinned to herself.
Taking Harry to the corner of the room where it was in the plain view of anyone at the top of the staircases, she placed her hands on his butt and rubbed it slowly. She pressed her lips to his ear and whispered in a low, breathy voice.
'Do you want me to arrange a private party for you after this one's over? I promise you won't regret it.' She took his earlobe between her lips and grazed her teeth over them before biting it softly. As she did that, she subtly moved her hands till they were on Harry's thighs, and just brushing his groin.
Satisfied with what she felt there, she smiled saucily at him and led him away.
After Parvati, Lavender and Ginny had turned up at long last, three boys' jaws dropping and eyes widening in the process, the five couples made their way out.
Cho and Harry departed last, Cho straddling Harry on the way, the latter not noticing a girl in PJ's standing at the top of the girls staircase, watching them go, her sad brown eyes glinting with unshed tears.
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