Ten Kisses by GoonerJim

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 03/03/2009
Last Updated: 13/02/2011
Status: In Progress

Harry only wanted to help Hermione out over the Valentine's Day festivities, but she was
determined that he get into the Valentine's spirit. And now she's adamant that he get his
money's worth...




1. Prologue
-----------



**A/N -** I will freely admit first of all that the original concept of this piece is based
on an excellent fanfic that I read a long time ago, so the title and author escape me, but I am
taking that premise in my own direction here. I am a great fan of Aaron Sorkin's writing,
particularly in the rapid and witty exchange of dialogue, and so wanted to try that bring that out
of the characters here.

Here is a little prologue to the story. I hope you enjoy it!

And in case anyone was wondering, I intend to write the final chapter(s) of The Final Countdown
very shortly after what has been a long hiatus.

* * * * *

Even before February had begun, Harry had been growing more fearful by the day. Well, maybe not
fearful. Anxious…wary…full of a sense of foreboding, that'll do. He couldn't accurately
pigeon-hole the right description, but he was in doubt as to its cause.

Yes, Valentine's Day was about to descend on Hogwarts…again.

He had thought about flying the coop for a few days either side of that dreaded day, fantasized
about it really. As soon as the first pink-colored posters started to pop up in the hallways and
common room notice boards, he had to clamp down hard on that flight reflex.

And part of him felt stupid about it. I mean, come on, this is Valentine's Day, he'd
thought. A chance for the girls to gush over the glamour of going to the ball, dressing up and
being asked out, and for the boys to summon up the courage to buy cards and flowers while
struggling to hold on to any sense of self-worth or masculinity they may have previously clung to.
And then go to the ball. And dance.

But Harry knew his track record with V-Day was not exactly stellar. He didn't even want to
go back over it in his head; that's how bad it was. And as soon as Hermione started babbling
about the ideas she had to involve herself and the other Gryffindor seventh-years in the ongoing
festivities, Harry made sure he would not be involved in any way, shape or form.


”I mean it Hermione,” He'd told her one lunchtime, “I'm not taking anyone to the ball,
I'm not being set up, I'm not handing out flyers, and I'm definitely not…”

“Okay, I think I get it,” Hermione cut him off curtly, “but why? It's just a bit of silly
fun, Harry.”

“Not for me,” He said, pointing his knife at her across the lunch table, “for me V-Day has
disaster written all over it.”

“V-Day?”

“You know, like D-Day?”

“I got the reference, Harry, thanks,” Hermione said, “but this year might be different.”

Harry snorted.

“At least you don't have Voldemort to contend with.”

“I might prefer him.”

“Harry…”

“I'm serious, at least he never blew off a date.”

“No, but I would've quite liked to see that.” Hermione said with a grin. She resumed
scribbling feverishly in the open notebook beside her half-eaten salad.

Harry went back to his food, trying his best not to take an interest in whatever Hermione was
working on. He didn't care, not one bit…not one single…”What are you working on?”

“…Hmm?” Hermione said, looking up distracted.

Harry grinned, “What are you working on?”

She shook her head, “Oh, nothing really.”

“You know when you say things like that you only make me more intrigued.”

Hermione smiled, “Oh yeah?”

“It's probably not even that interesting, anyway.” Harry teased.

Hermione slyly closed her notebook, “Then I suppose there's no point telling you, is
there?”

“Fine,” Harry said.

“…But I might need your help with…”

“What did I say?!” Harry nearly shouted.

“I wasn't really listening,” Hermione said, “But if you can help spread the word around the
common room, maybe drum up a few more volunteers…”

“Volunteers for what?”

Hermione grinned triumphantly, “So you *do* want to know.”

“…I hate you.”

“You love me, I'm infectious.” Hermione said, poking out her tongue as she gathered her
things.

“You're impossible,” Harry said under his breath as she walked away down the hall.

And now he *did* want to know what she was planning.

Dammit.

-->



2. The Plan
-----------



**A/N -** Thanks for the feedback, it's always welcome! I'm glad the initial reaction
has been positive; I hope that holds up now that I move into the story proper. Please let me know
what you think.

* * * * *

As soon as Harry returned to the Common Room earlier in the evening and saw Hermione scribbling
away feverishly in her notepad, he decided that he had to know whatever secret agenda lay
inside.

Thirty minutes, four accomplices and a ridiculous amount of planning later, Harry darted into
his dorm room, rose-colored notebook in hand. Breathing heavily from the mixture of action and
excitement (and resolving to get a life sometime soon), Harry pulled open the front cover.

Scrawled across the first page was something Harry did not expect…and yet strangely saw
coming.

*Better luck next time, Harry*

*H x*

“Find anything interesting?” A smug little voice said from the shadows.

Harry turned around to face the smug look on Hermione's face with a grimace, “I can't
have been that obvious.”

Hermione grinned, “You weren't, Neville was.”

“He had *one* job to do…”

“Not that yours was exactly a master plan, Harry. Honestly, I've seen better
constructed…”

“Don't tell me this was a *decoy* notebook?”

“…Maybe.”

“Now that is sad.”

“No sadder than snooping through a girl's privacy, Harry.”

“Fine…”

“Actually, I think perverted might be a better…”

“I said fine!” Harry exclaimed, “No more snooping around, I get it.”

Hermione sat down on the edge of Harry's bed, beaming like the proverbial Cheshire cat, “I
do like that you're putting this much effort into Valentine's Day.”

Harry plumped down onto Ron's bed, facing her, “I'm not the only one. What are you
planning?”

Hermione looked away, still smiling, “I fear it'll be a great letdown after all this
build-up.”

Harry leaned forward, “Come on, I'm interested.”

Hermione searched his eyes for sincerity, then…

Ron walked in, “Alright guys?”

Harry shook his head, “Wotcha, Ron.”

As if Ron suddenly realized Hermione was there, he quickly turned to Harry, “Oh yeah, I need to
talk to you about the thing…”

“I think the cat's out of the bag on that one.”

“You mean…”

“Yeah.”

“Neville had *one* job to do!”

“Ron, I *am* sitting here.” Hermione said.

“How can you get in here, anyway?”

“I'm a girl, we're trustworthy.”

“Yeah, apart from when it's your time of…”

Hermione leapt up and put a finger to Ron's lips, “I strongly urge you to think about
finishing that sentence, Ronald!”

The look of terror on Ron's face spoke volumes as Hermione withdrew her finger. With a
traumatized expression he fell onto Neville's bed.

“So…” Harry prompted.

“Mm?” Hermione said.

“What have you got planned?”

Ron sat up, “Are we talking about Valentine's…?”

“Can you shut up for a minute?!” Harry shot across the room at him.

“Sorry…jeez…”

“Honestly Harry, it's no big deal.”

“I want to be able to sleep tonight…”

Hermione smirked, “So I keep you up at night, do I?”

“…We keep drifting away from the point here.”

“Look, Harry, it's nothing really. I'm just trying to spread a bit of Valentine's
Day romance, so me and the seventh-year Gryffindors are organizing a series of kissing booths
throughout the castle.”

“…Kissing booths?”

“Yes, it's a relatively simple idea. Classic, straightforward, encourages student
participation to a degree which…”

“That was the big, complicated plan?”

“You'd be surprised the level of organization involved, actually.”

“Yeah, you need a desk and a chair!”

“Not to mention a jar for the money, Harry.” Hermione teased.

“So, you're all gonna be…” Ron said, stumbling over his words.

“Selling kisses, that's right,” Hermione said, “It's more than just a popularity
contest, before you ask. We've all nominated a charity that our takings will be donated to, and
the winner is the one who raises the most money.”

“What does the winner get?” Harry asked.

“Besides the self-satisfaction that they've made a real and lasting contribution to…”

“Yeah, besides that.”

“Tickets to a Quidditch match, concert or poetry recital of your choice.”

“Poetry recital?” Ron asked.

“I suppose that *was* a bit of a long shot,” Hermione admitted.

“You said throughout the castle?” Harry said.

“I've identified the most appropriate locations on the grounds, but I guess part of the fun
will be finding us.” Hermione said, grinning.

“I can just see that now,” Ron said, “*Oh, fancy seeing you here. Well, since it's
Valentine's Day…*”

Hermione laughed, “Maybe. But it would be pretty intimidating going to find a girl you secretly
quite fancy if you know where she is, wouldn't it?”

Ron looked away quickly, “…Fair point.”

“And it's reasonably economical, too. A knut for a peck on the cheek, a sickle for a peck on
the lips, and a Galleon for a full-on snog.”

“…What does five Galleons get you?” Ron asked.

“A one-way trip to hell for thinking like that, Ronald.”

“What's your charity?” Harry asked.

Hermione turned to Harry with excitement in her eyes, “It's a terrific new elf rights
charity that…”

Ron flopped down on the pillows, “Good thing I'm already in bed.”

Hermione ignored him, “…that seeks to raise awareness and stage elf sponsorships and fundraisers
on a national level, maybe even one day expand their operations to encompass…”

Harry had totally switched off.

Hermione smiled apologetically, “It's a really good cause, one I really want to do this
for.”

She stood up to leave, “Well, I'm sure word will get around in a day or two, but if you two
wouldn't mind…”

“Sure.” Harry said.

Ron stared at him in disbelief. Hermione gave him a smile as she headed out.

Ron shook his head, “After all that stuff you said about not wanting to get involved...”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “but, I guess it is a good cause. And…you know…excuse me for a sec.”

He bolted for the door.

* * * * *

“Hermione?”

Harry called out down the corridor, making his best friend turn around with a surprised smile,
“Well, you are keen, Harry.”

“I just wanted to ask…are you sure about this?”

Hermione shook her head, “What do you mean?”

Harry shrugged, “Well, it's just not very like you, is it?”

“I know,” Hermione said, “but I don't want to be remembered here as someone who didn't
let her hair down at least once in a while. It's just a bit of fun.”

Harry nodded.

“What?” Hermione said, after a brief pause.

“I just know how boys think,” Harry said, “and, I'd just rather them not get the idea in
their heads that you're, you know…”

“…Looking for a snog on Valentine's Day?”

“Well, yeah.”

“It is kind of the point of what we're doing, Harry. And I'm not the only one, remember.
I'm doing this out of vanity, I'm doing this to raise money for charity, and to…”

“To raise Valentine's Day spirit, I know.”

“Then why do you have a problem?”

Harry looked into her eyes, and just let out a sigh, “Sorry. I just don't want you to get
hurt.”

Hermione's expression softened. She touched a hand to Harry's cheek, “You are sweet…in a
misguided way. I'll be fine, Harry, you don't need to worry about me.”

“I know,” Harry grinned, “I just want to.”

Hermione smiled, and leaned in to peck Harry on the cheek before she turned and walked away.

-->



3. One
------



**A/N -** Once again, thank you very much for the positive reviews and I hope to receive
plenty more!

Reclaiming consciousness after a good night's sleep, Harry carefully edged one eye open…then
the other.

It was Valentine's Day.

If Harry was expecting to wake up to face the Apocalypse, he was in for a disappointment. The
boys' seventh-year dorm looked normal, or as normal as it could for a room that contained Ron
and his sleeping habits. The sun was fighting a losing battle outside with the overcast gray
clouds, but Harry still fancied getting outside on a Saturday like this. He'd take the walk
into Hogsmeade, and carry on for the next few days…strangely, he found the idea of living as a
hermit pretty appealing today.

Accepting that that probably wouldn't happen, Harry forced himself up and into the bathroom.
The washing and dressing mission accomplished, he edged over to the door. Taking a deep breath, he
made ready to plunge through it with wand drawn…and then thought better of it.

The common room, too, appeared relatively Valentines-free, save for a few pink decorations
dotted around the place. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry strolled over to the portrait hole and
stepped through…

Lavender Brown was sat behind a desk on the other side, “Hi Harry.”

“Jesus!” Harry recoiled in shock.

Lavender laughed, “Shouldn't that be Merlin, Harry?”

Harry straightened himself up, “What are you doing here?!”

“Hermione thought this would be a good place to…”

“Ambush the rest of us!” Harry said.

Lavender nodded at her jar, already sprinkled with several Knuts and a few Sickles, “Well,
it's gone pretty well so far.”

Harry glanced at the jar, nodding. He really didn't know what to say in this scenario…but he
just hoped that she wouldn't…

“Would you like to contribute then, Harry?” She asked hopefully.

…ask him that.

He'd thought about what he would say in the event; mostly excuses for why not, because he
didn't really want to get involved in the inevitable game of one-upsmanship between the girls
later on when they compare who they did and didn't kiss. Not that Harry thought that much of
himself…it was just that the rest of the wizarding world did, annoyingly.

“I'm…” Harry said, squirming, “…sorry Lav, I haven't got anything on me at the
minute.”

“Well,” Lavender said, “you could do it now and pay me later?”

That just sounded all kinds of wrong…

“That's okay,” Harry said, backing away as if she was contaminated with something, “I'm
gonna go down to Gringotts and take some money out, I'll come back later on.”

“Okay,” Lavender said, turning her head to watch him go, “catch you later!”

Harry quickly made his way towards the stairs.

Note to self: avoid the common room corridor.

* * * * *

“Seriously, she was just sitting there, right in the middle of the corridor!” Harry said over
his bacon and eggs, at the sparsely-populated breakfast table in the Great Hall.

“I know mate, I had to leave that common room too,” Ron said from across the table.

“Oh yeah. How'd you get around her?”

“Well…I'm not entirely sure that I did.”

“You mean…” Harry started.

Ron shrugged, “Well, yeah. We used to go out, didn't we?”

“…Are you asking me?”

“No, I just mean that I didn't see anything wrong in it.”

“…Right.” Harry said.

“Why do you, then?”

“Don't you start…”

“Hermione was right, it's just a bit of fun,” Ron said, “you need to lighten up a bit.”

“I just wanna go back to bed…”

“Suit yourself,” Ron said, “I'm gonna go see who else I can find.”

“Bit desperate, ain't it?”

Ron almost blushed, “No…just, you know, for sake of curiosity.”

“Best of luck.”

“Seriously, mate…” Ron said.

Harry shook his head, “Girls seeking romance, they're a force of nature.”

Ron grinned, “Yeah…I'll catch you later.”

He pushed his plate away and made for the entrance, a little too quickly to be normal.

And his plate was still half-full. That never happened.

* * * * *

Harry felt like he was conducting a stealth mission as he picked his way through the castle
towards the outside grounds, darting in and out of alcoves and edging along corridors. This was
ridiculous, he knew that, but he couldn't help it. He hadn't seen anyone else, but he had
heard that Parvati had set up shop in the dungeons…which sounded about right.

He just wanted to get outside, get some air, have a wander. He had made a point of trying to
ignore the flying cards around the Great Hall, as well as the poetry, the nervously-handed-over
love letters and whatever else. To him it just created a sense of expectation; that he should be in
there, getting it on with some girl, making a prat out of himself. The fact that he wasn't made
him feel…well, a bit lonely.

And so he found himself padding along the outside walkway, heading towards Hagrid's for a
bit of sanctuary. He'd stop and have a chat with him for a bit, then head down into town and
take a look at…

Harry spotted something, someone, out of place on the green outside her shack.

Oh, that figures…

Hermione smiled brightly at him, “Happy Valentine's Day, Harry.”

Harry walked over, trying not to grimace, “Thanks.”

He was trying his hardest not to take a look at her jar. Not that it would bother him if she had
been quite popular…not really…

“Are you alright?” Hermione said, her eyes searching Harry's as he stood in front of
her.

Harry shrugged, “Yeah, why?”

“Well, you're wandering around outside by yourself, on today of all days.”

“Is there anything wrong with that?”

“You tell me.”

Harry let out a sigh, “Am I that easy to figure out?”

Hermione smiled, “You always were, Harry. Come, sit.”

Harry looked around, “On what?”

She patted the desk in front of her, “Come on.”

“Won't I get in the way of you and your…fundraising?”

She shook her head dismissively, “Don't worry about it…besides, you need to talk.”

Harry perched himself down in front of her, feeling a deep swell of gratitude for his best
friend for wanting to drag the truth out of him.

Hermione sighed, “So, the idea of Valentine's Day makes you uncomfortable.”

Harry frowned, “Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Telling you,” Hermione said, “You don't like the idea of your love life being part of a
game or a dare or a competition…”

“Since when did you think that I…”

“Shush,” Hermione said, cutting him off, “And…you don't think my kissing booth idea was a
very good one, because it feeds into everything you don't like about this day.”

Harry looked away, feeling guilty.

“It's okay, Harry, I care about what you think.”

Harry slowly nodded, “Yeah, I suppose you're right.”

Hermione grinned faintly, “As if it were ever in doubt.”

She laid a hand on Harry's leg and gave it a little squeeze, “You're an old-school
romantic, Harry, and there's nothing wrong with that. Don't beat yourself up for not
wanting to be a part of all this, okay?”

Harry looked down at her and smiled, “Thanks.”

Hermione squeezed his leg again, and smiled with a nod. Harry decided he liked it when she did
that…

“So,” Harry said, feeling a little more perked up, “should I leave you to it?”

Hermione shook her head, “I need the company.”

“That might put some people off…” Harry said, trailing away as he involuntarily glanced at
Hermione's jar. It was by no means full, but was certainly populated with a good number of
Knuts, along with a few too many Sickles for Harry's liking…

“I'm doing alright,” Hermione said.

“Blimey, I'll say,” Harry said, nodding.

Hermione giggled, “Don't worry, Harry, they've mostly been first- and second-years, and
they're not really my type.”

“Well, if you're sure.”

“Actually, there was this one boy with this gorgeous smile, and…”

Harry gave her a look; Hermione poked her tongue out, teasing.

They spent the next couple of hours talking and laughing, and Harry felt a kind of freedom in
talking with Hermione that he wouldn't have felt with Ron. Several boys came wandering down,
but with Harry present not one of them gave Hermione anything more than a Knut. Still, seeing
Hermione peck so many boys on the cheek didn't sit quite right with him.

It was approaching lunchtime when Harry finally decided to leave his best friend to her
business.

He stood up, “Right, I'd better go.”

Hermione nodded, looking down at the ground, “Okay.”

“Do you need anything?”

She looked up at him with a smile, “No, I'm fine.”

“Okay…” Harry said, standing up. He reached into one of the pockets, fumbling around for
something.

Hermione gave him an amused look, “Are you okay there?”

Harry withdrew a small drawstring bag, “Yeah…listen, I want you to have this for your jar.”

He emptied out the contents into his other hand…ten gold coins.

Hermione's jaw dropped, “…Why?”

“Because you're right,” Harry said, “this kind of thing isn't for me, but you're
doing this for a good cause, and I want to help.”

Hermione's eyes had almost glazed over, but despite herself she shook her head, “I can't
ask you to do that, Harry.”

“I know, that's why I'm doing it.”

Hermione stood up, inching closer to him, “So…does this mean you're going to…”

She flexed her eyebrows suggestively.

Harry grinned uneasily, “Nah, don't be silly.”

Hermione's smile faded, “…Oh.”

Sensing quite quickly that he'd said something wrong, he touched her arm, “Look…you've
always been there for me, and…I know this is important to you, I just want to be able to do the
same. But don't think I want to pay you to…you know…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Hermione had enveloped him in a bear hug, wrapping her arms
around him tightly, “Oh, Harry!”

Struggling to breathe, Harry managed to choke out, “Is this good or…?”

Hermione released him, smiling widely, only to give him a playful smack on the head, “You are
dense sometimes, Harry. But you're also an absolute sweetheart, and you don't need to give
me money to prove it.”

“I insist,” Harry said, moving his money-filled hand over the jar.

“Harry, wait…”

“Come on, it's only ten Galleons.”

“But Harry…”

Harry dropped the ten coins into the jar, each one landing with a clinking sound. He turned back
to look at Hermione, only to find a bewildered look on her face.

“…What?”

Hermione stammered as she looked up at him, “Harry…the jar is enchanted.”

“…What do you mean?”

She cleared her throat, “It was something I came up with…to prevent fraud. It means that
whatever you pay for, you have to receive.”

Harry winced, “…Or else?”

“…Best not to dwell on that.”

“You could have warned me!” Harry said.

“I…I thought you were kidding!”

“I give you that speech, and you think I'm joking!”

“Well…no…” Hermione said, “but…is it really so terrible?”

Blowing out a deep breath of frustration, Harry shook his head, “…I guess not.”

“You guess?”

“Do you really want to shop for compliments now?”

“No.”

Both of them lapsed into silence, looking away from each other, fidgeting awkwardly.

“Harry, we both know how we feel about each other. This doesn't have to be a problem.”

Harry shook his head, “I know…I just never thought that I'd…”

“…Kiss me?” Hermione said, giving him a quizzical look.”

“Not like this!” Harry said, trying to laugh.

The merest of grins formed across Hermione's face, “I know.”

She gently turned Harry around to face her, edging close to him, “Let's get the first one
out the way, okay? I'm sure it'll get less awkward once we get used to it…”

“I can't believe I'm having this conversation…” Harry said.

“Can you stop complaining for a moment?” Hermione said.

“This is all your fault...”

“Oh, shut up and kiss me,” Hermione said, leaning in.

She closed her eyes and brushed her lips against Harry's.

Operating purely on instinct, Harry closed his eyes and did the same. He felt her mouth, warm
and soft, press more insistently against his, and he could almost have got lost in that feeling. He
could feel Hermione's breath on his lips, could smell her hair and her perfume. She felt
incredible! He had been kissed before, but never, ever like this…

It must have been a good few seconds before Hermione pulled away. Visibly blushing, she looked
down at her feet, “Well…there you go then, one down.”

Harry cleared his throat, “Erm…yeah.”

“So, I'm going to go back to the castle now, and…”

“Hermione, your booth…”

“Right,” Hermione said quickly, “So I'll stay here then, and you go and…what did you say you
were doing again?”

“I have no idea.”

Hermione nodded, still not daring to meet his eyes, “Well, have fun and do let me know what you
get up to.” She turned away and busied herself with rearranging her desk…not that there was much on
it.

Harry turned and quickly walked away, his head spinning.

*Oh my God!*

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4. Two...and Three
------------------



**A/N -** Thank you very much for your continued support and positive feedback, keep it
coming! I'm very much enjoying writing this story, and just trying to keep things as playful
and in-character as I can. I read a great review comment that compared Harry and Hermione to
characters from The West Wing which I largely agree with, except that I had Harry start as a kind
of Toby-like curmudgeon in regards to Valentine's Day, but he is now turning into Sam because
he is naïve, bewildered and has no idea what's going on! Enjoy!

Every few minutes Harry had to look up and around, just to remember where he was. He could have
been on the beaches of Normandy, but still in such a daze as he was that nothing around him would
register.

Yes, Hermione was a girl. He'd always been (just) smart enough to figure that out, and that
she was quite a good-looking one, her understated cuteness developing more and more throughout
their time at Hogwarts to the point where Harry could have considered her very attractive, if he
didn't already know her so well and think of her along those terms. But, and this was the big
`but' in Harry's mind right now, he had no idea Hermione was capable of *that*.

His head had been spinning since that kiss; now a couple of hours ago, apparently, and he could
have sworn his mouth was still tingling. It was just…*wow!* Harry had wanted to close his
eyes, try and remember the feel of her mouth against his; warm, soft, moist, the fireworks and the
tingling, the smell of her breath…and then decided that wouldn't be doing him any favors.

All rational thought had been suspended, too. It was like Harry's mind was like the
front-facing side of a bank, all twelve counters closed up with the sign `Sorry Harry, we've
got nothing'. And, according to Hermione's flipping enchantment, he still had nine to
go.

Not that he was dreading it, per say, but…*oh, just kill me now*.

It was the height of afternoon when Harry returned to the grounds of the castle, taking the long
way round to avoid passing near Hagrid's shack. It wasn't that he was now afraid of
Hermione; he'd just spent so much time with her earlier, it wouldn't really be fair on her
if she was trying to win this thing. Even if it meant kissing other boys…

Heading along the walkway towards the Great Hall entrance, Harry tried not to glance down at the
grounds…and failed. He caught sight of Hermione sitting at her desk pretty far off, seemingly
reading from a book that he hadn't noticed earlier. For some reason, the fact that she was
alone was a little bit of a relief for him, though he did feel for her, sitting outside all day on
her own. Maybe he should go down and…no, just…no.

Other than some random padding around and looking in a few shops, Harry had done very little,
other than stopping for lunch. Feeling the need to concentrate on something important, Harry had
half-decided to go back to his dorm and tackle one of the homework essays he'd been set the
previous week - something he had never envisaged doing on a Saturday, but desperate times…

And so he headed back to the common room, where soon enough…

“Hi Harry,” Lavender said cheerfully.

*How did I forget about that?!*

A Knut changing hands, a forced smile and a lingering peck on the cheek (which wasn't
exactly unpleasant) later, Harry collapsed onto his bed. For several minutes he just laid there,
unthinking. He wanted…he wanted Hermione, which was perplexing at best since she was the source of
all his consternation. But, she was still his best friend, and understood him better than
anyone.

*So why does she have to go and be such a damn good kisser?!*

Harry became happily lost in his homework, and didn't notice the sky begin to gradually
darken outside. A couple of hours of hard writing later, satisfied with his work, Harry got up and
headed for the door down to the common room…

Ron burst into the room, very nearly knocking Harry down in his bluster. He was half into a new
set of dress robes as he hustled about his bed looking for his shoes.

“Sorry mate,” Ron mumbled, as if just remembering that Harry was there.

“Nice robes,” Harry said, a growing look of confusion on his face.

“Cheers.”

“…What's the occasion?” Harry asked, gathering up his writing materials from his bed.

Ron turned and gave him a puzzled look, “Erm…Valentine's Day…?”

Harry's face was, for two seconds, so blank it looked as if he was confronted with ancient
Muggle history. And then… “Oh yeah, the ball…”

*How'd I forget about that?*

“Yeah,” Ron said with a grin, “you probably missed it because you buried your head in the sand
every time it came up.”

*Huh, that's how then.*

“Fair enough,” Harry said, “who are you going with?”

“Lavender…we patched things up. Well, enough for one night, anyway. You?”

Harry shook his head, “Probably not going.”

“Really?”

Harry shrugged, “Yeah.”

“Nothing wrong with going stag, you know.”

“What's that?”

“When you go without a date.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

Ron finally found his shoes, and hopped about the room trying to get them on.

Harry flopped back down onto his bed, “So, who's Hermione going with, anyway? Could've
sworn she…”

Hermione burst into the room.

“There ya go,” Ron said, “you can get it from the horse's mouth.”

Hermione gave him a dirty look.

“So to speak,” Ron finished, quickly turning back to his trunk.

Harry looked up at her for the first time, “Hey, what's…blimey…”

She looked beautiful. Hermione wore her hair long, longer than normal as she had it magically
straightened. Her chestnut brown locks bounced about her pretty face, shaded with a minimal level
of make-up. She wore a dark blue and silver full-length dress, the plunging neck line tasteful and
at the same time figure-flattering, to say the least.

Hermione suppressed a grin at Harry's speechlessness…which only made her seem more
attractive.

Harry cleared his throat with a cough, “So, um…can I help?”

Hermione wrung her hands together, “Harry, I need a favor…”

“Here we go…” Ron said, under his breath from across the room.

“Well…” Hermione said, suddenly finding interest in her own heeled shoes, “…my date cancelled on
me, and I need…”

“Wait…” Harry said.

“I know you didn't really want to go, Harry, I just…”

“Who did you ask to go with you?” Harry asked pointedly.

“Oh,” Hermione said, “what's-his-name from Ravenclaw…Terry Boot.”

“Why would he cancel on you?”

“He's come down with a nasty virus, he says.”

“That timed out well…” Ron muttered.

“You're not helping, Ronald!”

Harry stood up, “So, you need a date.”

Hermione nodded, “They're announcing the winner of our kissing booths tonight…all the other
girls have dates, I just didn't want to be the…”

Harry held up his hands, “Okay, fine, I'll get dressed.”

Hermione threw herself at him, nearly hugging the life out of him, “Oh, thank you Harry!”

“Don't worry about it,” Harry struggled to get out. His face full of Hermione's hair and
everywhere below his neck suddenly deprived of air, that was about the best he could do. Not that
he was complaining about Hermione hugging him…it felt quite nice, actually…

Hermione let him go, “Okay, well, we need to leave in about five minutes, so…”

Harry made straight for the bathroom, “Alright, I'm going, I'm going…”

With a demure smile to herself, Hermione turned and headed out the door.

Ron just rolled his eyes.

* * * * *

By the time Harry got down to the Great Hall, Hermione's arm linked into his, the ball was
in full swing. It was hard for Harry to know where to look first; there was just so much going on.
The bands, the dancing, the buffet tables; the boys in suits and robes, the girls in gowns and
dresses. Harry had been here before, of course, but never really found himself enjoying the
Valentine's Ball at Hogwarts. Now he was here, for the first time, he hoped tonight could be
different.

His grand master plan basically involved staying around Hermione all night. She didn't seem
to mind that; in fact, she seemed to quite enjoy having someone familiar to talk to. They ate
together, grabbed some punch together, talked and laughed and chatted with other people and their
dates together. It was good for Harry to have the company; he'd normally be lost or bored by
now.

When Professor McGonagall called for quiet to make a few announcements from the band podium,
Hermione basically dragged Harry by the hand onto the dance floor, where the other contestants
seemed to be congregating. She was visibly tense but also excited; after all, this was a
competition, but it was for charity. Professor McGonagall ran through the final totals, all of them
higher than Harry would've thought. Thinking about how many boys they had to go through to get
these amounts, he was thinking that maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if
Hermione didn't…

“And in first place, with twelve Galleons, eighteen Sickles and twenty-seven knuts, Miss
Hermione Granger!”

…*Okay, never mind.*

The applause was loud and mildly enthusiastic as Hermione buried her face in Harry's
shoulder. He gave her a hug, whispering `well done' into her ear with a smile. This was her
moment.

The smile didn't leave her face, even as the music started up again with a slow number.
Harry made to leave the dancefloor, but Hermione tugged him back by the hand.

“What?” Harry said.

“I want to dance,” Hermione said.

“Okay, have fun.”

“Oh, come here…” Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and stepped in close to
him.

Harry tried not to appear uncomfortable, failing miserably, “What are we doing?”

“It's a slow dance, Harry.”

“…Okay.”

“Is it making you uncomfortable?”

“…I'll be fine.”

“Good.” Hermione said.

The silence was allowed to linger for a moment as Hermione led the way, Harry's hands on her
waist.

“I'm glad you won,” Harry said with a grin.

“Thanks,” Hermione said, “but that was probably down to you.”

“Well…not all of it.”

“No-one else managed twelve Galleons, Harry.”

“Yeah…”

“What?” Hermione asked.

“…Who gave you the other two…?”

“No need to be jealous…” Hermione teased.

“I'm not!”

“Sure you're not.” Hermione said, poking out her tongue.

“That's right…”

“Speaking of which…” Hermione said.

Harry was hoping this wasn't going where he thought it was, “Yeah…”

“I still owe you nine…”

“You don't have to…”

“Do you want to be cursed?” Hermione asked pointedly.

“No.”

“I didn't think so…” Hermione said.

Harry paused, “…What, now?”

Hermione smiled, “Why not?”

Harry glanced around them, “Oh, there's only a few hundred people in here…”

“Who cares what they think?”

“…Me?”

Hermione's face was inching closer to his.

“It's not working, is it?” Harry said.

“No,” Hermione whispered, closing her eyes.

Before Harry could respond, her lips were on his. Her mouth felt firm and insistent against his,
not pulling away. He couldn't help but feel elated; like some huge weight was lifted from him
whenever she did that. He knew he shouldn't enjoy it this much as he closed his eyes, yet he
found himself returning her kiss, and part of him hoping it would never end…

Alas, ten seconds later it did. As soon as Harry caught sight of those hundreds of pairs of eyes
on him, his face turned red.

Hermione stifled a giggle, “That wasn't too terrible, was it?”

“No, it was nice…”

“Nice…?”

“Okay, very nice…” Harry said, “But…you know…can you see everyone staring as well?”

Hermione waved it off, “Oh Harry, half the school already thinks we're seeing each
other.”

“Yeah, and the other half have just joined the cult!”

“You need to relax,” Hermione said, taking his hand, “Come on, let's take a walk.”

Trying desperately hard not to make eye contact with anyone, Harry followed her out of the
hall.

* * * * *

The two of them look a long walk around the castle grounds, Hermione carrying her heels and
walking bare foot. The conversation came in drips and drabs between periods of awkward silence. It
was the last thing Harry wanted, to make things awkward, but there were times he just couldn't
help it.

By the time they were heading back towards the common room, the chat came a bit easier. Between
talk of Quidditch, exams and homework, both had plenty to contribute. Hermione had no qualms
linking her arm with Harry's again, even as by now the ball was coming to an end and more and
more others were heading back to their common rooms.

They stopped outside the portrait hole. Hermione turned to face Harry, the smile back on her
face.

“Thank you for tonight, Harry,” She beamed, “I'm so glad you could come with me.”

“Me too,” Harry said, grinning.

“So I guess it wasn't quite the Valentine's Day you'd hoped for…”

Harry shrugged, “No…but it was still pretty good.”

“…Pretty good?”

“Can you stop fishing for compliments?”

Hermione smiled, “I am a girl, Harry. We like those.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, fair enough.”

Pause. Awkward pause.

“So…” Hermione said.

Harry was starting to develop a sixth sense for this kind of thing, “Yeah…”

“Do you think a goodnight kiss would be in order?” Hermione said with a slight smile.

“Oh, not again…”

“You act like it's such a pain to kiss me,” Hermione moaned.

“It isn't,” Harry said.

“I know it isn't,” Hermione said, “I think you actually enjoy it.”

“Well…it's not the worst feeling in the world, is it?”

“Thanks for the high praise.”

“You know what I mean,” Harry said.

Hermione wrapped her arms round his neck, “You know the next time, I'm not going to tell you
in advance.”

“Brilliant…”

Hermione leaned in and closed her eyes; for the first time, Harry met her half way. As his mouth
pressed more hungrily against hers, Harry found that the more he kissed her, the more he
*wanted* to kiss her…

And then he felt something wet probe against his closed mouth.

Harry pulled back sharply. Hermione gave him a wicked smile, “Goodnight, Harry.”

As she disappeared through the portrait hole, Harry cursed her silently.

*Dammit Hermione, no tongue!*

-->



5. Four
-------



**A/N -** Once again, thank you one and all for the reviews! I'm glad that people are
having fun reading it, just as I am writing it. One thing I will say at this stage, is that I have
intentionally written Harry as being confused and bewildered, and gradually coming to terms with
what's going. Firstly, it generates a lot of the comedy, and secondly this allows for him to
grow as a character. Still, him being caught up in Hermione's jinx-gone-wrong and playing
second fiddle I think makes a nice change, as normally he is the instigator, being proactive rather
than reactive. But at the end of the day this is meant to be funny, upbeat and banter-y; maybe a
little bit smarter than your average teen-fic, but that's just how I like to write. Enjoy!

Not at all unpredictably, Harry struggled to sleep that night. He pretended to be when the
others started coming back; especially Ron. That was a talk he was looking forward to…

He was used to being the subject of attention and scrutiny, polarizing in opinion and prone to
being the subject of gossip and speculation. But not over something like this…this was too…common?
No, that's not it…

*I wouldn't worry about it, Harry…it was only every single person in the school that saw
it, no one else will bring it up…except them, maybe their families, the people their families work
with, the bloke they meet down the pub…*

*I'm screwed.*

For some reason, Harry preferred it when the wizarding community was discussing his
life-or-death prospects, and not his love life. It was just something too…personal (*there you
go, that's the word*) to him, especially when it involved Hermione, the girl he cared about
most in the world. He didn't want everyone thinking she was his girlfriend…

*Well why not, what's so bad about that?*

Harry imagined himself saying something to the effect of `Because she's my best friend - I
rely on her. She's saved my life so many times, been through so much with me…'

*Would you rather be with someone who *didn't* do everything for you and care about you as
much?*

`You're not helping me very much.'

*Harry, you can't pick who you fall for…*

`I'm not falling for her!'

*Then why are you up at three in the morning playing out this subconscious back-and-forth on
the subject?*

Stopping short of responding out-loud, Harry tried once again to sleep.

He dreamt of…Hermione, not at all helpfully. She was kissing him, and it felt just as it did
before. Except when Harry opened his eyes, he was in a bedroom…and lying down…with her on top of
him…

Harry's eyes burst open. Where the hell did he get *that* visual from?

He got up and headed for the bathroom. Apparently a cold shower was the thing to do in times
like this…

* * * * *

The good news was that it was still only Sunday; Harry didn't have to get downstairs for
breakfast at a certain time. The bad news was that he still needed to eat something, as Ron pointed
out. The others had already left the dorm by the time Harry woke up again.

Harry kept holding his breath as he got dressed, waiting for Ron to go off on a tangent,
demanding to know every little detail, maybe feeling hurt or betrayed or left out. *Dear Merlin,
please don't let it come to blows…*

“So,” Ron said, a confused look on his face, “why did Hermione kiss you, anyway?”

…*That's it?!*

Harry did his best to explain everything on the way down to the hall. It felt good to be able to
discuss it with someone else - anything was better than dealing with his own head at this point.
Maybe Ron's usual straight-forward, common sense reasoning would give Harry that vital nugget
of advice or knowledge that would make everything fall into place…

“Wow…yeah, I'd say you're pretty buggered, mate.”

“Cheers, Ron.” Harry said, just as they walked through the open main doors.

By that time the hall was maybe half-full at best - but that didn't stop nearly everyone
from looking at Harry, with a look of either smugness or excitement or intense interest, waiting
for the merest scrap of a reaction to tell their friends about.

Ron turned his head to talk quietly into Harry's ear, “…Is it me, mate? Have I got something
on my face?”

“Pretty sure they're looking at me, Ron.”

“Oh.”

Harry felt the eyes upon him like a heatwave as he pulled up a bench.

Ten minutes of near silent eating followed (as silent as Ron could manage, anyway) before Harry
couldn't bear *not* bringing it up any more…

“So…what do you think?” He asked.

Ron looked up, “About what?”

“Are you really that thick?”

“No,” Ron said, “I just…well, don't really know what to say. It's not everyday your two
best friends find out they like each other like…”

“Ron, I'm under a curse here.”

“So, you're not doing this out of choice?”

“No! It's either that, or…”

“…Or what?” Ron asked.

“I dunno,” Harry said, “I never found out what I'd be cursed with.”

“Might be just a headache…”

“You think Hermione would go for something that trivial?”

“Why would she curse a jar for money, anyway?”

“I told you, to stop fraud,” Harry said, “Typical Hermione, working out every last detail…”

“You don't think that's going a bit overboard?”

“Of course I do!” Harry nearly shouted, “I think this whole thing is overboard.”

“Well, you gave her the money.”

“I know,” Harry said, “And I know that I want to be mad at her, but really I can only be mad at
me. I got myself into this mess…”

Ron leaned forward, “The thing I don't get is…*is* this such a mess?”

“What do you mean?” *Not you as well…*

“What's the problem with people thinking you and Hermione going out?”

“Ron…”

“For that matter, what's the problem with you and Hermione *actually* going out?”

Harry studied Ron's face carefully, looking for anything denoting sarcasm…nothing,
“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“From you of all people…”

“What does that mean?”

Harry shook his head, “I thought if anyone would have a problem with that, it'd be you.”

“…Why?”

Harry leaned forward, “Are you telling me…you don't…you know…”

Ron's eyebrows shot up, “…What?”

“You don't…”

“…Fancy Hermione?” Ron asked.

Harry nodded, waiting on Ron's next words with bated breath.

He watched him mull it over, for what seemed like an eternity…

“…Nah.”

*Right, well that's…hang on.*

“You don't?”

Ron shrugged, “Nope.”

“Are you sure? I mean…”

“Did you think I did?” Ron asked, looking shocked.

“…Oh, this is going well…”

“Harry, we're just too different,” Ron said, “I mean, maybe, in another…well, another
*universe* or something. But no, she's…well, she's Hermione.”

“Oh…okay,” Harry said.

Ron had apparently finished eating, since he stood up, “I know you have to go through this
thing, and you don't wanna tempt the wrath of the whatever from high atop the thing, but…did
she *have* to kiss you in front of everyone?”

Harry thought about that, and shook his head, “No…and I'm pretty pissed off about that.”

Ron shrugged, “Women.”

As he turned and walked off, Harry collated everything new Ron had brought to the proverbial
(and literal) table.

*Hermione's a girl…girls are insane…and until I figure out what I want from this, I'm
still screwed.*

* * * * *

After breakfast Harry changed for a Quidditch practice session, feeling himself to have not been
keeping on top of his match fitness. Seeker reflexes are genetic, Harry had been taught, but that
still didn't mean they couldn't slacken off or get rusty through lack of use. It felt good
to mount the broomstick, zip off high above the castle in chase of a winged golden ball…

Because it was simple.

He was vaguely aware of what his teammates were doing; Ron was having a blinder keeping almost
everything out. He knew that first hand when he actually had to duck around the hoops in the midst
of a particularly frantic pursuit of the Snitch…Ron had nearly belted him one.

Harry launched himself into a dive, watching that tiny little golden blur and willing himself
faster and faster…

*Come on…come here, you little…come on…GOTCHA!*

Two feet from the ground, he caught the Snitch and sharply pulled up, barely missing one of the
stands as he came back to match-level height and righted himself…

To find himself nearly face-to-face with Hermione, sitting alone in the empty stand.

She looked up from her book with a smile, “Nice catch, Harry.”

Harry grinned, *Oh, you're telling me…*

“Listen, can you stay there?” Harry asked. “I wanted to talk to you…”

Hermione just smiled that patient, all-knowing smile of hers, “Sure.”

* * * * *

Harry raced back to the locker room, dumped his gear and changed, and must have set a record in
getting back up to the stand. He found Hermione still sat there, still reading her book as he came
up behind her. It was strange, he never got these butterflies before…

“Good book?” Harry asked as he sat down next to her.

Hermione shrugged, “The book's fine, it's just finding a quiet place to read it.”

“Well, I'm sorry to intrude.”

Hermione smiled at Harry, touching him on the arm, “Don't be, I'm glad you're here.
And I was watching your practice as well, by the way. You looked good.”

“That's good to know…” Harry said with a grin.

“Did you sleep alright?” Hermione asked.

*Let's not go there…* “Yeah, well enough,” Harry said, “you?”

Hermione flexed her eyebrows, “Between all the gossiping that was going on, fine.”

“You too, huh?”

Hermione nodded slowly, then turned her whole body to face Harry, her face suddenly
apprehensive, “You're not mad at me, are you?”

Harry looked at her and shook his head, “Why would I be?”

Hermione's look turned from upset to condescending.

“Okay…” Harry said, “I was…you know, surprised.”

“Of course,” Hermione said patiently.

“And maybe, if it was me, I wouldn't have…in front of everyone…”

“Harry, it's okay to tell me you think I was wrong to do that.” Hermione said.

“I know…” Harry said, looking into her eyes, “But…I did enjoy it.”

Hermione's face once again melted into a smile, “I'm glad.”

“Yeah…” Harry chuckled, “you are a pretty good kisser.”

“Aww,” Hermione said, linking her arm through Harry's and scooting closer, “thanks for the
compliment.”

“No problem.”

“But you didn't really answer my question, Harry.”

“What's that?”

“Do you regret me kissing you, in front of everyone?” Hermione asked seriously.

Harry looked away, then down at the floor, “…Can I be completely honest with you?”

“Of course, Harry, please.”

Harry shook his head, “At first, I thought I did…but now, I don't know if I thought like
that, because it's what I thought I should be thinking? Does that make any sense?”

Hermione nodded, “You wondered if the idea of kissing your best friend, someone so close
and…involved to you, should be thought of as something wrong, or unseemly. That perhaps that was a
boundary we shouldn't cross, at least publicly…because even if we know what's really going
on here, others will either be unable to understand or unwilling to grasp the full…”

“But that's it, Hermione…” Harry said, daring to look her in the eyes again, “…what is going
on here?”

For the first time in recent memory, Harry could see Hermione struggle for words, stumbling over
what to say and in what order to say it… “What do you mean?”

“Why did you kiss me there, in front of everyone?”

It was Hermione's turn to look down, “…Because I've never been kissed on Valentine's
Day before, Harry.”

That sounded painful to admit, to Harry's ears. He kept his mouth shut, wordlessly willing
her to continue.

“I've never been one of those girls that gets excited about Valentine's Day, not really.
So when this one came along…I busied myself with my little project. And then, well, and then our
thing happened.”

Harry put an arm around Hermione's shoulder.

“And so maybe, I thought, maybe just once I could experience a true Valentine's moment…”
Hermione said, her voice wavering. She looked into Harry's eyes, “I'm sorry if you think I
took advantage of you, Harry, I just…thought maybe it could be a special Valentine's Day for
you, too.”

Harry pulled Hermione into him, giving her a hug. As Hermione put her arms around his neck,
Harry found himself giving her a peck on the cheek.

“I'm not mad at you,” He whispered into her ear, “don't worry. And it was a special
night for me, too. But not just because you kissed me, Hermione…because you were there.”

“Oh, Harry…” She said in a quiet voice.

“…What?”

Hermione smiled, “Why are you such a sweetheart?”

Harry grinned, “Erm…well, you pick these things up.”

“You certainly do,” Hermione said, pulling back from their embrace. Her eyes were red, but she
was beaming.

Harry felt good. Better than he had felt in quite a while… “I'm glad we can talk like
this.”

“Me too,” Hermione said.

“So…where do we go from here?”

Hermione leaned closer to him, “I don't want to appear bossy, Harry, but this would be an
absolutely perfect time for number four…”

Harry studied the devilish smile on her face, and couldn't help laughing, “Yeah…I guess
you're right.”

“As long as you don't mind kissing me in public…?”

Harry shook his head, “I think I can get used to it…”

“Good…” Hermione said, cupping Harry's face with both her hands.

Her face closed in on Harry's, and her lips would not take no for an answer. Harry closed
his eyes and reveled in that feeling, finding himself returning her kiss full force. *God, this
feels good…I can get used to this as well…* The smell of Hermione's breath on his face, the
feel of her hands on his cheeks, the warmth and the softness of her mouth…there wasn't anywhere
else he wanted to be right now.

Hermione pulled away with a deep, contented sigh, and a smile.

Harry grinned, “…No tongue this time, then?”

Hermione laughed and swatted him on the arm, “Harry!”

“Sorry!” Harry said.

“Maybe next time, if you're good,” Hermione said, wiggling her eyebrows with an evil
smirk.

Harry could think of no possible comeback to that, so simply stood up, “Wanna go see
Hagrid?”

Hermione took his hand and stood up, “Love to.”

“Good…” Harry said, beginning to turn around, “I'm fine with the kissing in public, but
still, I'm glad we didn't have an audience this time…”

“Um…Harry…” Hermione said.

Harry turned back to face her…and saw it.

The whole Gryffindor Quidditch team was lined up in mid-air some forty or so feet away by the
goal-posts, facing them.

Ron shot Harry a thumbs-up.

Hermione giggled, leading Harry by the hand away towards the stairs, “I'm glad you're
fine with an audience, Harry…”

“Any way you can curse them too, just for the hell of it…?”

-->



6. Five
-------



**A/N -** Thanks once again for the reviews and encouragement - I'm glad this story has
been so well-received! Please keep those reviews coming, and I'll try my best to get the
chapters out a little more regularly - stupid real life

Harry sat in the Transfiguration classroom, bored out of his skull. The class around him had
long since lapsed into silence as they fell head-long into the long essay assignments they were
continuing to work on. Amazingly, Harry had already all-but finished his - the advantages of
ignoring Valentine's Day. Well, most of it anyway…

Not for the first time, his eyes wandered around the classroom. Every time he did, he was
reminded of the same simple but obvious fact, and something inside him dropped. Hermione wasn't
here.

*Where the hell is she?*

About ten minutes after class had started, Harry had whispered to Ron next to him, “Where is
she?”

“Where's who?” Ron said.

Harry gave him a double take, “…Ron, who do you think I'm talking about?”

“…Hermione?”

“Erm…yeah.”

“Oh, dunno mate.”

*Lot of help, you are.*

Professor McGonagall had sat atop her perch in her owl form, keeping silent but watchful eyes
upon the class. Apparently, she must have switched back as Harry's eyes scanned the back of the
classroom, “Is there a problem, Potter?”

Harry's head snapped back round, “No Professor, sorry I was just…”

“He was pining for his girlfriend, Professor.” Seamus piped up from the back of the class with a
cheeky grin, as several others snickered.

“That will do, Finnegan, let's not have any of that talk here.”

As the class fell back into silence, Professor McGonagall approached Harry's bench, speaking
in a quiet voice, “In the event Potter, Miss Granger was excused from class today. Apparently she
has several assignments to finish for this week.”

Harry nodded, not really knowing what else to do, “…Okay, thanks.”

The professor lingered over him, a hesitant look on her face.

“Is everything alright, Professor?”

Her voice became even quieter, “Is it true that you and Miss Granger are actually…”

Ron's hand shot up beside Harry, “Professor, can I ask you about this…?”

Seeming to remember herself, Professor McGonagall straightened and walked across, “Of
course…”

With her back to him, Harry shook his head in amazement.

And remembered he needed to get Seamus back somehow.

* * * * *

Harry didn't see Hermione at dinner either, nor in the Common Room directly after classes or
dinner, not even later on that evening as he gave Neville a much-deserved thrashing at chess -
well, he was getting a bit mouthy about his imagined prowess at the game.

The later it got, the more Harry began to worry - was this about him? Was Hermione avoiding him?
Did she suddenly regret what they were doing?

No, Harry decided. Think about it; Professor McGonagall said she had a lot of work to catch up
on. She was probably holed up in her dorm getting it all done.

But that image troubled Harry. Why did she suddenly have mountains of work to finish in so short
a time? This was Hermione…she never allowed herself to get into such a hole as this. She
must've been tired, Harry thought…and hungry, for all he knew she hadn't eaten, at least
within the last few hours. No way did she deserve that…

Harry sat around as the hour became late, and students began to head up towards their dorms,
then ducked out the portrait hole.

* * * * *

Nearly half an hour later, Harry was on the latest of many stops on his way back from the Great
Hall towards the dormitory. He leant against the staircase handrail, breathing heavily.

It wasn't that he was suddenly unfit; it was the groaning weight of the reed basket he was
carrying.

In Harry's mind, his request to the house elves in the kitchen was very clear - just
something nice for Hermione to eat while she catches up on her homework. It was then of course that
Harry realised he made the mistake of saying her name. The speed, vigour and enthusiasm at which
those little elves went about their cooking made Harry wonder if they had secretly made Hermione
their queen in some secret coronation.

He could have made the basket weightless, or near enough, but Harry worried what that might do
to the food. And so he struggled on, hoping that somehow, in some small way, this self-inflicted
ordeal would somehow be worth the…

Ron appeared at the top of the staircase, “Alright mate?”

Harry looked up at him disbelievingly, “How do you always know where I am?”

“Oh,” Ron said, “I stopped by the kitchens. The elves ratted you out.”

“Right, so you're here to give me a hand?”

“…Actually, did they happen to make you any of those chocolate…”

Harry gripped the basket handles together and hauled it up off the stairs, “I don't believe
you.”

“What?” Ron said, moving out of the way.

“Forget about it.”

“I thought you ate, anyway.”

“I did,” Harry said, grimacing as they walked slowly down the corridor, “but Hermione
didn't. You heard what McGonagall said, she's been cooped up in that dorm all day doing
homework.”

“…And so she asked you to nip downstairs and get enough food to feed an army?” Ron said.

“No, that was my idea.” Harry said.

“You've never done that for me,” Ron said, as he veered off down a different corridor
towards the bathrooms.

“You've never kissed me,” Harry said under his breath as he soldiered on.

“I can always start!” Ron shouted back, his voice bouncing off the walls.

* * * * *

Finally, Harry reached the portrait hole. Quietly pushing his way through, he set down the
basket beside the entrance…and saw one of the most heartwarming, and yet heartbreaking, sights of
recent memory.

Hermione was sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the fireplace, books and papers spread
out all around her. Facing off to Harry's left, she hadn't noticed him come in.

As Harry edged slightly closer, he wondered if she was noticing anything at this point; even
from here, with the flickering fire casting light and shadow over her features, Harry could see the
pale complexion, the bags under the eyes, the more-unkempt-than usual hair. And yet, through all
that, she still looked…beautiful.

*Hermione - she looks like Hermione! Snap out of it!* A little voice inside his head
screamed.

*Oh shut up,* another voice said.

Harry coughed gently as he picked up the basket.

Hermione looked up with a start, trying to blink the aching out of her eyes, “Harry…you startled
me.”

“Sorry,” He said sheepishly.

“No, don't worry about it,” Hermione said, craning her neck to glance at the clock, “I
didn't realise it was so late.”

Harry looked down at her assorted work, “Yeah, can't think why.”

Hermione rubbed at her eye, “I'm sorry I wasn't in class earlier today, Harry, I was
just…I fell a little behind with some of my assignments.”

Harry carefully put down the basket and sat down on the floor facing her, “That's not like
you.”

“I know,” Hermione said, “and I'm a little annoyed with myself, too. I just…I got a little
carried away with…”

“…Valentine's Day?” Harry said.

Hermione yawned and nodded, “I know, it was stupid. But I wanted to…”

“Hey,” Harry said, “come on, don't beat yourself up.”

“But,” Hermione said, throwing down a piece of paper, “now I've got all this work to do, and
I'm so behind. I mean, three of these essays are due in tomorrow, and I…”

Harry scooted over to Hermione's side, “Hey, what did I just tell you?”

Hermione's head slumped down, her eyes closed.

Harry put an arm round her shoulder, “Come on, don't panic. You're not falling behind,
I'm not gonna let you. I'll help you get all this done.”

“Don't make me feel bad, Harry, I don't want to keep you up too.”

“Tough,” Harry said, trying to grin.

Hermione raised her head and looked at him, blowing out a frustrated breath, “I'm not
talking you out of it, am I?”

Harry shook his head.

Hermione leaned over and pressed her cheek against Harry's, “Thank you,” she whispered into
his ear.

Harry managed to smile that time, “You're welcome.”

“What's in that basket?” Hermione said.

Harry pulled away from her just enough to flip open the basket lid, “What do you normally find
in a picnic basket?”

“Harry, where did you go to get…”

“Where do you think?”

Hermione seemed to instantly revive, “Harry, have you been taking advantage of…”

With the speed of a cheetah, Harry shoved a cream cake into Hermione's mouth, “Shut up.”

It had to be the most random picnic ever recorded by man, but as far as Harry was concerned it
could not be beat - not that he had a whole lot to compare it to. He made Hermione eat her fill
before she could even touch her work - at this point she was too tired to put up a fight.

She was smiling now, though, between bites of her food. Harry found it heartening, like his best
friend was coming back to life.

*Yeah, it was worth it*.

It took them both another hour and a half to clear through the rest of Hermione's
outstanding work. Despite the constant bickering from Hermione, and the jokes that Harry would
probably be more hindrance than help, it was an oddly enjoyable homework session - certainly more
fun than trying to work with Ron. Mainly because he'd usually end up copying Harry's work
anyway…

As Hermione gathered her completed scrolls together, she beamed at Harry for maybe the millionth
time, “Harry, I can't tell you how much you've helped me. I mean it, you're such a
sweetheart.”

Harry grinned back at her, “You're just about worth it.”

Hermione pouted, “I'm too tired to hit you.”

“That's good.”

“I'm also too tired to move,” Hermione said, “I could fall asleep right here, sitting
up.”

“That'd be funny…come on, bed time.” Harry said, moving to get up.

He offered Hermione a hand; she seized it and hauled herself up with great difficulty…only to
collapse onto the nearest sofa.

“You know that's not your bed, right?” Harry said.

Hermione poked her tongue out at him, patting the cushion next to her.

Harry crossed his arms, “So, you think you doing that will make me sit down?”

Hermione gave him a narrow-eyed look.

“Okay…”

Harry fell back against the sofa himself, fighting the urge to close his eyes. Hermione had no
such qualms, dropping a cushion onto Harry's lap and lying down, resting her head on it.

“Comfy there?” Harry said.

Hermione looked up at him with a bashful smile, “Yes, thanks.”

“Good.”

“I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

Harry shook his head, “Why would you be?”

It was Hermione's turn to shake her head, “No reason.”

Silence passed between them for a moment, both still looking at each other. As tired as Harry
was, or maybe because of that, he didn't find it awkward or tense. Not even when Hermione took
his hand in hers and started playing with it, stroking and pulling on his fingers. It just
felt…natural.

“Can I ask you something?” Harry said, breaking the silence.

“Mm?” Hermione said, looking back up at him.

“How did you let yourself end up in this state, pulling an all-nighter?”

Hermione shrugged, “Harry I told you, all that planning that went into…”

“That still doesn't sound like you,” Harry said, “you would have thought of that.”

Hermione looked down at their intertwined hands and sighed deeply, “I know…”

“I'm not criticising, it just…I worry, ya know?”

A faint smile formed on Hermione's mouth, “I know you do, Harry. It's just…yeah, I
suppose I have been a bit preoccupied.”

“With what?”

“With you,” Hermione said, her eyes finding his again.

“Me, what did I do?”

“You kissed me.”

“Well, you made me!” Harry said in protest.

Hermione pouted up at him, pulling a sad face.

Harry sighed, “Okay, I suppose I still did…what about it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why has that preoccupied you?” Harry said, “I mean, we kiss each other a bit more nowadays, but
other than that…”

“This coming from the same boy that spazzed out when I kissed him in public,” Hermione
teased.

Harry shrugged, trying not to smile, “I'm getting over it. At first it was…hang on, back to
you.”

“Well…I know the circumstances aren't ideal, Harry, and I know people are talking,
but…I've kind of liked it.”

For the first time that night, Harry didn't know what to say, “…Really?”

Hermione nodded, her thumb stroking the back of Harry's hand, “Harry you may not have
noticed, but this…doesn't happen to me terribly often. It may sound superficial and girly,
but…I guess I've liked the attention a little bit.”

“Huh…”

“And…I like being kissed too, you know? It gives me something else to look forward to.” Hermione
said.

Harry gave her a little smile, “Yeah…I know what you mean.”

Hermione beamed up at him, looking visibly relieved, “Maybe I just needed to say that.”

“Well now that you have, do you reckon you could go to bed?”

“Why?”

“So *I* can go to bed,” Harry said.

“Harry, we were having a nice moment there,” Hermione moaned.

“Yeah, but that ended.” Harry teased back.

“Killjoy,” Hermione said, “I suppose you must be tired as well.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, and you're on top of me and keeping me from my bed.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow, “Don't you like me on top then, Harry?”

Harry nearly laughed, pushing Hermione's head off his lap, “What is wrong with you?”

Hermione sat up and gathered her things, “It's just the exhaustion, I promise you.”

Work bundled under her arm, Harry walked Hermione to the bottom of the dorm staircase. They both
stopped without a word to the other, and Harry turned to face her.

“Are you gonna be alright?” Harry asked.

“I'm just going to bed, Harry,” Hermione said with a playful smile.

“I meant in the morning,” Harry said, “if you're still exhausted have someone come tell me,
I'll make sure…”

Hermione put a finger to his lips, “Enough worrying about me, Harry. I'll be fine.”

“I know…”

“But you are really sweet to care so much,” Hermione said softly.

Harry's face edged closer, “Yeah, I know…”

As did Hermione's, “Aww, and I'm getting a goodnight kiss too…”

“Yeah…I wasn't prompted or anything…” Harry whispered.

“You're too good to me…”

“Shut up…”

Eyes closed, their lips met gently. Harry didn't want to pull away, no matter how tired he
was. Her mouth, soft and wet and warm, produced the same wonderful sensations in him at any hour of
the day, and never lost their appeal. At least now he knew Hermione liked it, too.

A good five seconds passed before Hermione reluctantly pulled back. She sighed at Harry with a
smile, and squeezed his hand as she started to climb the stairs, “Night, Harry.”

He watched her go, almost draped over the banister, before hauling himself up too, “Nice one,
Harry…”

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