Like Father Like Son

A/N: Oh yeah, new Harry Potter story! Don't know how long it's going to be or how it's going to end yet. :) I always write best when I just wing it.

Anyways...enjoy!

Like Father Like Son

Chapter 1 – The Beginning

"Potter streaks up the pitch, dribbling through the defenders. Fakes a pass, jukes a defender. Spins around the sweeper, Potter only has to beat the goalie now! Potter comes down the middle of the box, the goalie's out there to meet the ball! Potter pulls a move, the keeper is down! The goal is open, the goal is open! Potter buries it in the back of the net! Arsenal wins! Arsenal wins!"

8-year-old Miranda Potter pumped her fists in the air and ran in circles, laughing out loud. 17-year-old Harry Potter grabbed the star of their one-on-one soccer match and picked her up, setting her on his shoulders. He ran in circles as his sister gave the imaginary crowd bows and waves, laughing the whole time. When they had finally settled down, the two lay side-by-side on the grass, watching the clouds drift lazily through the sky.

"Let's play again!" Miranda exclaimed.

"Again?" questioned Harry exasperatedly. He loved his youngest sister, he really did, but they had played three games already! She was running him ragged!

"It's too hot," complained Harry. "Why don't we join Rory in the pool? I bet you she's bored in there all by herself."

"Rory's boring though!" Miranda whined. "All she does is read! She never wants to play!"

That's because it's too bloody hot, Harry thought in his head. Out loud, he said, "Come on, she's not boring. She just likes to relax. Playing sports is our thing and reading is her thing."

"Then let's play another game!" Miranda exclaimed excitedly, sitting up. "Let Aurora read!"

"Not today," said Harry, putting his foot down. "I'm done with football for the day. Let's just relax in the pool."

Miranda's face became thoughtful. She asked, "More football tomorrow then, okay?"

Harry looked down at his lap, not wishing to see the look of pain on his sister's face that would surely come when he finished his next statement. "Miranda, you know...I'm leaving tomorrow, remember? I have to go to school again."

And even though Harry wasn't looking at her, he knew she was on the verge of tears just by the tone of her voice. "But you went to school last year!" she cried.

"I know," said Harry soothingly, trying to calm his sister down. He hated it when she cried because of him. "But this is my last year, then we can play all the football and quidditch and rugby you want."

"But Harry," said Miranda quietly, causing Harry to look up into her eyes, which were wide with awe. "Mum says I'm not allowed to go on a broom until I've had my first lesson at Hogwarts!"

Harry just barely stopped himself from laughing at how cute and innocent she was. Ah, the simple life of an eight-year-old. "She trusts Madam Hooch over Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain?" Harry asked in mock-disbelief. He winked at Miranda. "What mum doesn't know won't hurt her."

"What don't I know that won't hurt me?" asked a stern voice from behind the pair.

Harry gulped, turning around and looking up into the emerald eyes he had inherited. "Er...um...you see..." he said, quailing under the look his mother was giving him. "I-I was just joking! Y-yes...that's it!"

"Harry and I are going to play Quidditch next summer!" Miranda exclaimed, jumping up and down in glee. So much for that, Harry thought to himself miserably.

Lily's eyes flashed dangerously, and Harry stood up, holding his hands up sheepishly. "Come on, Mum. This'll be my third year as Quidditch Captain! Surely I can do just as good a job as Madam Hooch!"

"We don't have a Madam Pomfrey here at home though, do we?" Lily asked rhetorically, jabbing a finger into her son's chest.

She had given Harry the perfect opportunity to brown-nose. "No, but we have you," he said as earnestly as he could, hoping this would work.

Harry could see that his mum was about to say something along the lines of, "Aww, that was so sweet, Harry," any second now. But then the expression changed to that of one who knew Harry's tricks inside and out.

Her eyes narrowed, and despite being a good five inches shorter than her oldest child, she seemed to tower over him. She somehow stared him down while glaring up at him. "I know what you're trying to do, Harry, and it's not going to work," she said quietly. "I didn't give up to James when it came to you learning to fly, so I'm definitely not going to crumble to you."

"Come on, mum," pleaded Harry. "We're nine years apart, sports is the only thing we have in common! You don't want us to grow apart, do you?"

"Oh, please," scoffed Lily. "You're closer to Lily than you are to Rory or Dan. You've maintained that relationship without Quidditch so far. I think it can last."

"She's a female version of me," said Harry, grasping for straws. "I already know she's going to be a natural."

"That is true," said Lily thoughtfully.

Harry, seeing a weakness in his mum's defenses, exploited it. "And so, being like me, it'd probably be better for me to be there to teach her than for her to steal dad's broom in the middle of the night and fly it around on her own," he said, grinning.

"You did not, Harry James Potter!" exclaimed Lily, appalled.

"You really think I wouldn't, mum?" he replied, his grin now a smirk. "She's going to do it anyway," Harry said ominously.

Lily finally broke. "Fine," she huffed. "But you better have James with you to help, or you'll have me to answer to," she said dangerously.

It was the best he was going to get. "Deal," he said.

"No, no deal," said Lily, her hands on her hips. "A deal implies that you have a choice to negotiate the terms. You either have your dad there with you to help or you don't teach her at all, it's as simple as that."

With that, Lily apparated away, probably back to the kitchen of their house in Godric's Hollow where she was just starting to prepare dinner. Miranda, who had been watching the scene with a hopeful look on her face, started clapping and hugged her brother around the waist. "Thanks, Harry! You're the best!"

"I know I am," said Harry, grinning.

"Psst."

"What was that?" asked Harry, looking for the source of the noise.

"Psssssssssst," came the noise again.

"Over there!" said Miranda, pointing to the bushes.

The two walked over there, neither of them surprised to see their dad's face appear from one of the bushes. He put a finger to his lips and motioned for them to join him, which they did eagerly. Their dad only got like this when he was ready to pull a prank. "I saw what happened out there, son," said James quietly after Harry and Miranda had gotten situated as comfortably as they could. "Way to stay strong. It's the only way to deal with her."

"Then why do you always give in to her when she smiles at you?" Harry teased his dad, delighted when he looked away and cleared his throat.

"Because I can't think straight when she does it," replied James helplessly. "But enough about that," he said quickly. "What do you say we catch Aurora off-guard?"

"I think that's a fantastic idea," said Harry. "What's the plan?"

After hearing the plan, the two male Potters put it into action while the youngest member of the family watched in glee.

First, Harry sent a banishing charm toward the head of the air lounger Aurora was floating on, making it spin rapidly. Aurora managed to hold on, waiting until the spinning finished before looking around for the culprit. Harry hit it with another one a few seconds later, making his oldest sister spin in circles again. "Harry...dad!" Aurora called after her spinning had stopped once again. "Will you just let me read in peace?" she asked indignantly. She pulled her book roughly up to her face again after looking around for a few more seconds, obviously thinking her wish had been respected.

But she hadn't noticed two things while she had been spinning. The first, that a water-repelling charm had been cast on her book by Harry, and second, that a quarter of the pool water was floating three feet above her, levitated by James. With a thumbs up, James let the water go, completely drenching Aurora, who screamed.

"You. Complete. Gits!" she yelled, treading water as Harry, Miranda, and James all busted out laughing.

As Harry laughed, he couldn't help but feel that it was a perfect day. His mum and dad had taken the day off from work to hold a family-only going-back-to-school party for him, 14-year-old Aurora, and 12-year old Daniel, who was inside watching television.

And despite how much he loved his family, Harry felt that a major factor to his perfect day was the fact that school was starting the next day.

After two long months, he would finally get to see her again.

***LFLS***

Crack!

The Potter family appeared directly in Platform 9¾, the three eldest children with their luggage. "Alright, kids," said James. "Have a good school year, don't get into too much trouble."

"James, dear," said Lily much too innocently. "Don't you mean 'Have a good school year, don't get into any trouble'?"

"Right," said James, grinning and winking at his children. "Precisely what I meant to say."

"That's what I thought," replied Lily, also winking at her children.

After hugs and kisses and a teary goodbye from Miranda...well, more than a little teary; Harry, Daniel, and Aurora all got on the train, each going their separate ways to join their friends. At least, that's what Daniel and Aurora did. Harry, on the other hand, went straight to the prefects' compartment, where he was required to go to fulfill his Head Boy duties. He was actually quite eager to go to this meeting, because there was no doubt in Harry's mind that she was Head Girl.

Harry stopped right outside the compartment, taking a deep breath. It was now time to switch from family mode to school mode...he did have a reputation to keep up, after all.

He ruffled his hair a bit and checked how his breath smelled. It was good; he was ready. He put his trademark smirk on his face and sauntered into the compartment, flopping onto the seat right next to the Head Girl, who was reading a book.

Apparently a little too close for comfort. She sighed, looking at Harry out of the corner of her eye. "Honestly, Potter, the train hasn't even started moving yet and you're already harassing me? Can't you at least make the train ride off-limits?"

"I'm not harassing you, Granger," said Harry, grinning at her.

Hermione rolled her eyes and asked, "Then what are you doing in here? Don't tell me Dumbledore actually let you keep your prefect position."

"Nope," said Harry.

"Thank Merlin," said Hermione, looking relieved. "If I had to go through another meeting with—"

"Even better," interrupted Harry, pointing to the badge on his chest. "Say hello to your partner in upholding the school rules."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "No way...he actually...you...this isn't some kind of joke, is it? Not another stupid attempt to make a fool out of me?"

"'Course not," said Harry. "It's the real deal."

Hermione let her head fall back and her book drop in her lap. "I was afraid you were going to say that," she said miserably.

"Come on, Granger, I'm not really that bad, am I?" Harry teased, noticing a few prefects filing into the compartment and looking at their Head Boy and Girl in interest.

"Honestly?" asked Hermione, raising one eyebrow. "Yes."

Harry looked thoughtfully at her before his face brightened up. "You know what I just realized, Granger? This is the longest conversation we've ever had! Now will you go out with me?"

"Are you really that daft?" asked Hermione. "You think I'll want to go out with you now that you've managed to keep me in a conversation—a completely stupid conversation, might I add—for longer than twenty seconds?"

Harry grinned at her. "Come on, Granger. You know you can't resist me. What is there to not like about me?"

Hermione grimaced in disgust. "Well, your ego for one. And don't forget—"

"Hermione," a voice interrupted. The two turned to look over at a sixth-year prefect named Luna Lovegood. "You might want to hold off on the list for now or the train ride will be over before we even start the meeting."

Hermione grinned smugly at Harry. "Right you are, Luna." She stood up and faced the prefects. "Now, today we are going to—"

Harry tuned out what Hermione was saying and just watched her talk. Never in his life had he seen a woman so elegant and beautiful, inside and out. He had noticed it before anybody else, all the way back in fourth year. And ever since fourth year, Hermione had rejected him or spurned his advances time and time again. Harry was still pretty much clueless as to why.

No matter though, thought Harry. She'll come to her senses this year. Because no matter what, she will be mine.

A/N: So, what do you guys think so far? Please let me know in a review!

A/N: Sorry about the delay, I've just been busy! I promise to update sooner next time!

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2 – Irresistible

Harry flashed one last grin at Hermione and had just enough time to see her roll her eyes before he had turned around. She was beautiful when she looked annoyed.

Harry stepped out of the train with a smirk and a swagger, knowing all the girls were checking him out and all the younger boys were watching him with admiration. Ah...school.

Harry was the king at school. His fellow students loved him. The professors loved him. Everyone loved him...well, everyone but Hermione, Draco Malfoy, and some of the Slytherins. Most Slytherins were alright, but some of them were real nutcases about the purity of blood.

A person getting of the train bumped into him, almost knocking him to the ground. Harry didn't even have to turn around to know who it was. "You better watch out, Potter," a cold, superior voice said. "Father wouldn't like it if he knew you were assaulting me."

Harry laughed as a circle began gathering around them...his and Malfoy's fights were always worth watching. "Pathetic," Harry said. "Seventeen years old and you still go running to daddy to fight your fights."

"Why...you," sputtered out Malfoy, whose face was growing redder by the second.

"I know," said Harry triumphantly, the smirk on his face growing wider. He spotted Hermione stepping off the train, her face buried in a book. She still had ears though. "It's because you don't have any brains. I mean, look at you, you can't even come up with a good comeback properly let alone get in a fight without your father's assistance."

Hermione just shook her head as she continued reading while weaving through the crowd. Harry found, even while he was verbally sparring with Malfoy, that he was impressed by her multi-tasking skills. He was suddenly propelled off his feet, flying back a few yards before landing on the ground. Seems like he should've paid attention to Malfoy after all. But it was worth taking a spell in the chest to look at Hermione.

A hand entered his field of vision, and he grinned as he took it. "Come on, mate. What were you looking at, Malfoy was right in front of you! You got that look on your face like you were eating the most delicious pumpkin pie..." Ron trailed off as his brain made the connection. "Granger?" he asked simply, already knowing the answer.

A goofy grin was on Harry's face. "Yeah," he said dreamily.

Ron shook his head as he led Harry into a carriage that would take them up to the school. "Harry, Harry. When are you going to learn that Granger is a lost cause? She just doesn't like you. I thought you would've grown up and noticed that now that you're seventeen."

"Ron," said Harry disbelievingly. "I won't give up my quest for Hermione's heart until she gets married to another. I'm telling you, man, she's the one for me."

Ron slapped his face with his palm, trying to calm his urge to yell at Harry while shaking him back and forth. That just didn't seem to be very effective when trying to make someone see sense, no matter how appealing it seemed to him. He should've known better than to have tried to make Harry see what everyone else saw. Instead, he said, "Don't get all sappy on me, Harry. There's no way I'm going to go through another year listening to the love poetry you were going to serenade Granger with."

"I'm done with that," said Harry, waving a hand at his best friend. "It was a bad idea from the get-go. I don't think she'd like something that cheesy...maybe some secret admirer letters this year?"

Ron's hands were itching to slap Harry across the face. "Just as cheesy," he managed to choke out, still wanting to help his friend despite the topic. As Harry's eyebrows furrowed, Ron decided to quickly change the subject. He and Harry had once talked about Harry's feelings for Hermione...let's just say that Ron never wanted to repeat that experience ever again. "Did you see I got a Firebolt-K?"

Harry's ears perked up at the mention of something Quidditch related. He would just have to figure out this Hermione thing later. "The Firebolt just for Keepers?" he asked. Ron nodded his head with a grin on his face. The change of subject had gone perfectly. "Did your dad get it for you?"

"Back-to-school gift," said Ron disinterestedly. "I asked for a spare so I could use one for practice and one for the game, but he said, 'wouldn't want you to become spoiled now, would we son?'"

Harry chuckled. "Too late for that."

"Hey!" said Ron indignantly as the carriage arrived at the school.

As they got off the carriage, Lavender came up to Ron and tried to shove her tongue down his throat. Ron kissed her back just as passionately, starting a full-blown game of tonsil hockey. Harry made gagging sounds, and Ron broke the kiss so he could punch Harry's arm. Lavender did the same to the other. "What?" he asked, holding his hands up in front of him. "All I want is for you two to get a room or something. I've watched you two eat each other's faces enough to last several lifetimes."

"You're just jealous because you can't do the same with Granger," said Lavender knowingly.

"Yeah, Harry," said Ron, putting an arm around Lavender's shoulders. "Stop being such a prude."

The three walked into the Great Hall like that, Harry feeling like a third wheel. He felt out of place with most of his friends now, with them all having girlfriends. Except for Luna. He always felt like he belonged when he was hanging out with Luna. He had taken her under his wing in fifth year when he had found her being heckled and made fun of by some older boys. Now she was almost as popular as he was, most of the school population believing her random, weird comments were nuggets of wisdom when scrutinized at the right angle. Luna was also the only one of Harry's friends who didn't make fun of him for liking Hermione. She actually supported him one hundred percent, even going so far as trying to get Hermione to see Harry in a different light the previous year...to no avail, of course.

They sat down at Gryffindor table, Malfoy glaring daggers at Harry from the Hufflepuff table. The Malfoys had been in Hufflepuff for generations, and Draco was happy to carry on the tradition. Too bad he didn't have any support amongst his dorm- and classmates. His frustration came from the fact that Harry was the king of the school. The rest of the Hufflepuffs' admiration for Harry came from the fact that he was the king of the school. He was Mr. Popular. That was true of quite a few condescending yet likeable tossers.

Too bad it didn't work on Hermione.

Speaking of Hermione, she was coming right at Harry. "Potter, meeting in Dumbledore's office after the feast," she said flatly, obviously not wanting to talk to Harry.

Harry grinned his usual grin, the grin that melted all girls but one to a puddle, at Hermione. "Thanks, sweetheart. Care to sit next to me?"

"Ugh," was all Hermione said, looking at Harry like she would a piece of trash before turning around and going far down the table to sit next to Aurora. Wait, thought Harry, Aurora?

His sister was friends with the woman of his dreams and she hadn't managed to convince her to go out with him yet? Then again, it was probably even worse for Harry that she was friends with Hermione. Harry constantly pranked her at the house and annoyed her, thus she was probably telling Hermione all bad things about him.

It was okay, though. Hermione would see in the end what Harry could already see.

The feast came and went without a hitch, and soon after that Harry found himself walking to Professor Dumbledore's office. He pulled out the Marauders' Map along the way, hoping to spot Hermione's dot close by. She was only two hallways ahead of him. Harry picked up his pace, and before they were even halfway to the office he had caught up to her.

"So, Granger," he said when he was right behind her, causing her to shriek and spin around.

"Oh, Potter," she said, clutching her chest. "I should have guessed it was you."

"And why is that?" Harry asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"First of all, if you had a few brain cells, you would realize we are the only two heading to the same place," said Hermione condescendingly. She was the only person in the school who was allowed to insult him and get away with it. Even Snape got pranked whenever he tried to make a fool out of Harry in class. "Secondly, I could hear your giant ego scraping along the walls as it tried to fit in this tiny hallway."

"Hey, I may have a big ego, but I can put my money where my mouth is," said Harry. "You can't deny that."

"Oh, Merlin," said Hermione. "Why do boys think they're so cool just because stupid teenagers happen to like them?" she asked rhetorically. "You do realize that nobody will think you're cool once you graduate from Hogwarts? Cool in the adult world means making money and having a respectable job, not being good at...at...being able to...do Wonky Faints," she said, finally coming up with something. "Or being able to smirk and walk at the same time."

"First of all," said Harry. "It's a Wronski Feint. And second, in case you didn't realize, I have the fourth-best marks in our year. I have a multitude of jobs waiting for me. Lastly, Quidditch players make a crap-load of money. Definitely more than enough to raise a little batch of Potters, don't you think?"

Hermione sighed. "Really, Potter. Why can't you just give me ten minutes' rest from your never-ending come-ons? They're never going to work."

"I don't—"

Harry was cut off by Hermione speaking the password for the Gargoyle, which sprang to life, moving aside.

It looked like they would have to finish this chat later.

A/N: Okay, I know that was kinda short and didn't advance the story much (or really at all), but I wanted to give you all some background information and show you the changes in this universe.

Please review!

A/N: Hey all, yes I am still alive. I've been writing a lot lately and just needed a short breather, but I assure you I am back to full strength and will be updating every three or four days like usual!

Please Enjoy!

Chapter 3 – He'll Never Learn...

As Harry woke up on the first day of classes, a big grin grew on his face. He loved his Head Boy's room. It was nicely decorated, right next to the kitchens, and close to Hermione's room. So close to Hermione's room, in fact, that all that separated them was a spacious shared common room, almost equal in size to the Gryffindor common room.

After getting dressed he magically cleaned his teeth and put on some deodorant before exiting into said common room just as Hermione was exiting her room.

Hermione stopped for a second, obviously wanting to go back into her room, but seemed to decide to show Harry that his hazing tactics weren't going to work by acting normally. She tucked her books closer to her chest in a defensive gesture, squared her shoulders, and set off for the exit, but not before Harry could get there, holding the portrait open for her to go through.

Hermione, though she really detested Harry, couldn't help but grumble, "Thanks," for her parents had taught her to always be polite and not sink to the level of mean people.

"You're quite welcome," responded Harry with a grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes and picked up her pace a little, which Harry had no problem keeping up with considering the fact that he was taller than her. "So..." said Harry. "Patrolling tonight. Just the two of us, in the castle, alone, at night...should be romantic."

"It will be in no way romantic," Hermione responded briskly and with a hint of annoyance. "Especially due to the fact that I asked Professor Dumbledore if we could patrol separately. He said yes, of course, so you'll be taking the northern half of the castle and I'll be taking the southern."

"Oh, Granger," said Harry dramatically, putting his hands over his chest in mock pain. "You're so cold. That hurts."

"Won't hurt as much when I hit you with a hex for bugging me," Hermione grumbled before entering the Great Hall and sitting at the end of Gryffindor Table.

Harry smirked and went to sit right next to her, but before he could get there Aurora rushed past him, bumping him on her way to sit next to Hermione. As he silently fumed at her and stomped toward Ron, he swore his sister flashed a smirk at him over her shoulder. Oh, she'll get her comeuppance, thought Harry, I'll make sure of that.

He couldn't believe that Aurora, sweet, withdrawn, innocent Aurora, could be so mean to him. Not that he didn't deserve it, but really! It was crossing a line when she interfered with him getting together with his true love.

"Give it up," said a boy's voice from his right.

"What do you know about any of this, Daniel?" snapped Harry, taking out a bit of his anger unfairly on his brother.

"I know that you have a crush on Granger, and I know Aurora told me that she would do everything in her power to stop you bugging her," said Daniel, raising an eyebrow at his older brother.

"She said that?" Harry practically shrieked, pulling at his hair in frustration. "I can't believe her!"

Daniel snorted. "I can," he said bluntly. "That's why it pays to be nice to everybody, you don't know when it'll work in your favor. Good luck with Granger. Aurora is much smarter than you. I have no doubt in my mind she'll win."

"Come on, Daniel!" cried Harry. "I'm your brother!"

"So?" asked Daniel, not looking particularly interested in the conversation.

"You're supposed to side with me," explained Harry. "Not our sister!"

"I'm just telling you what I think are the facts," said Daniel, shrugging. "You may be much cooler than she is, but I think by the time Aurora's in sixth year she'll be smarter than mum. I'm not saying you're dumb, I'm just saying you're not as smart as Aurora."

Harry's eye twitched involuntarily and he said, "It's great knowing I have your vote of confidence," before turning around and plopping onto the seat next to Ron.

"Can you believe him?" asked Harry of Ron as Daniel made his way down the table toward his friends. "He thinks Aurora's smarter than I am!"

"Of course Aurora's smarter than you," said a condescending voice from behind him. The voice Harry would recognize anywhere. "My four-year-old cousin is smarter than you."

"Bugger off, Granger," said Ron, his eyes flashing and a sneer forming on his face. "I don't remember Harry asking you to voice your opinion."

Harry leaped up and grabbed Ron's collar, pulling his best mate's face close to his and growling, "Don't you dare talk to Granger like that. Her opinion always matters to me."

Ron's backed his face away from Harry's as much as possible, disbelief shining in his wide eyes. Harry sat back in his seat and looked over his shoulder at Hermione, who seemed taken off guard. "Don't listen to my friend here, he's a bit slow."

Hermione blinked, her eyebrows furrowed as she seemed to scrutinize Harry. She finally, slowly shook her head and walked off toward the entrance hall, her head still cocked to one side at the exact angle she held it whenever she was thinking really hard.

Harry, craning his neck to watch her as long as he could, was caught off guard when a pair of hands pushed his shoulders, causing him to fall off the bench.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" demanded Harry as he sat back up in his seat.

Ron looked furious. "What do you mean?" he asked. "You threatened me and called me an idiot!"

Harry sighed, running a hand through his messy hair and throwing a quick glance at the closed doors leading to the entrance hall. "Forgive me, Ron. My brain just gets all muddled when Granger's around. And you were mean to her."

Ron pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled loudly through it. "I guess it is my fault a bit," he finally admitted, calming down. "I'm sorry for being rude to Granger."

"No problem, mate," said Harry, grinning and taking a bite of his bagel, cheese, bacon, and egg breakfast sandwich.

"For the record, though," said Ron, talking with his mouth full and gesturing with his fork. "I think little Dan has a point." He grinned at Harry. "There's no way you're outsmarting Aurora." He laughed as his friend's face twisted into a look of anger.

"Haha, very funny, Ron," said Harry, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But you're not as smart as your younger sister either, are you?"

"Ginny?" asked Ron incredulously. "Of course I'm smarter than that runt!"

Harry snorted. "Then who got more OWLs?"

"She did," Ron grudgingly admitted. "But this isn't really a fair comparison, is it?" asked Ron with a smirk on his face, knowing he was about to win this battle. "My sister may be smarter than me, but she's a sixth year. Your sister is smarter than you and she's a fourth year!" he said as he started laughing.

Harry scoffed. "Fine, if you really want to believe she's smarter than me, go ahead. But we'll see who's more clever in the end," he said.

Harry swung both legs over the bench and stood up, planning on heading to class early so he could get a seat next to Granger. As he went to take a step, he started falling. Just before falling face-first on the ground, he looked down and saw his shoelaces tied together.

The impact hurt like hell, his left cheek taking the brunt of it, and raucous laughter met his ears as he managed to stand up and magically untie his shoelaces. His eyes first went to his sister, who allowed herself to smirk at him for a second longer before turning back to her cereal. Harry had to admit that the prank was pretty good and well pulled off. Too bad for her, he had a reputation to keep up.

After glancing up at the staff table to make sure there were no professors present, he pointed his wand at the table centimeters in front of Aurora's cereal bowl and sent out a ricocheting hex, which always rebounded at odd angles. Harry got lucky and it shot straight up, blasting her bowl into the air. The milk splashed all over her face, hair, and clothes, and the bowl landed right on top of her hand.

There was laughter and applause for Harry as he gave the students a few bows. His sister magicked herself dry and sent a glare at Harry, who returned her earlier smirk.

The hint of a grin lifted one corner of Aurora's lips, and for some reason Harry felt a small tingle of fear in the pit of his stomach. Having Aurora mad at you was like having Hermione mad at you...it never ended well for the person the anger was directed at.

Harry knew he would have to keep an eye out for Aurora. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that retaliation was on its way.

He quickly left the Great Hall into the near-silent entrance hall, the cheers of his peers still echoing in his ears. Nothing felt better than winning a battle of humiliation with somebody in front of their classmates.

Focusing on the task at hand, Harry glanced at the schedule he had been given by Professor Dumbledore the previous night, relief warming his chest as he saw that Defense Against the Dark Arts was his first class. It was also the only class that he was actually better than Hermione. Actually, he was number one out of all the seventh years. It seemed that waking up on Monday wouldn't be as bad as it usually was.

Harry grinned as he entered Professor Lupin's classroom; Hermione was reading a book at a desk at the front. Harry sat right next to Hermione and she looked up at him, weariness in her eyes. "I take it if I tried to move you'd just follow me?" she asked tiredly, already knowing the answer.

"Of course," said Harry grinning. "I'll never let you leave my side."

Hermione snorted. "Did you swallow the cheesy romance lines book or something? That was absolutely horrible," she said before turning back to her book, leaving Harry to ponder her words.

Note to self, Harry told himself, think about the cheesiness level of a line before using it on Granger.

Harry was about to respond with something less cheesy when Professor Lupin suddenly materialized behind his desk, a smile on his face. "Hello, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger."

"Professor Lupin," said Harry with a smile on his face, greeting his favorite professor and one of his father's best friends.

Harry's smile slowly disappeared from his face as he realized his professor's smile was the one that said, 'I have a funny secret concerning you I'm about to tell you.' "I have detention after school, don't I," said Harry, not making it a question.

"Correct you are, Mr. Potter," said Professor Lupin happily, knowing he had gotten Harry good. "And so does your sister. You really think we would leave the Great Hall unattended during breakfast?" he asked.

"Disillusionment?" Harry asked interestedly.

"Two for two," Lupin responded.

"You better watch your back," said Harry, grinning. It was a tradition between the two to prank each other as much as possible throughout the school year. It wasn't very professional on Professor Lupin's part, but he was a marauder, it was his nature. "I'm going to get you good."

"I'm looking forward to it," responded Lupin.

Harry saw one of Hermione's eyebrows rise as she continued to stare down at her book. He swore he heard her voice quietly say something that sounded strangely like, "Boys."

A/N: Wow, I wrote this chap surprisingly quickly, only took me an hour and a half! I hope you enjoyed it and please review!

A/N: Here you go! Sorry it's late, but my laptop went kaput and it took forever to get fixed! Expect regular updates now that they are possible!

I promise that a Hermione POV Chapter will be coming soon! It might only be one, though, because I want pretty much all of this to be Harry (except for the one chap).

Enjoy!

Chapter 4 – Shut Down

Harry was finishing up his after-school detention, his back growing more and more sore by the second. He and Aurora were tasked with the duty of cleaning the Great Hall for two hours, which was a pig sty from Lunch. Both he and his sister hadn't said a word to each other the whole time—all they had exchanged were glares.

Harry put the finishing touches on the end of Ravenclaw Table as Aurora finished Slytherin just as the clock bell gave five rings, signaling the end of their punishment. They both looked to Professor Lupin, who looked up from his book and said, "Off you go, then."

The siblings left the Great Hall in silence, both of them refusing to look at one another. Based on the amount of tension there had been in the room, Harry knew that it officially meant war with his sister.

Harry split off and went to the Heads' common room, intent on finishing his Homework before patrol that night. Hermione wasn't in the common room when Harry arrived, which meant that she was probably doing her homework in her room. Harry sighed and grabbed his bag from his room before plopping down on the comfy armchair.

He worked hard for two hours and was so focused on homework he would've kept on working through dinner if it wasn't for Hermione leaving her room. She didn't hesitate this time though, she walked as fast as she possibly could without running. By the time Harry put his stuff in his room and exited the common room, Hermione was nowhere in sight despite how long the hallway was. Harry stood outside of the common room door, debating whether or not to grab the Marauders' Map. In the end he chose not to, considering the fact that by the time he had grabbed it and caught up with her she would already be in the Great Hall.

When he did get down to dinner it was to find—who else but—Aurora at Hermione's side, both girls talking excitedly about something.

Probably some extra credit project, Harry mused. He wouldn't put it past either of them to purposely make their work-load heavier this early in the school year.

He walked past them with his head held high to show that he didn't mind that it was his sister sitting next to Hermione and not him. But out of the corner of his eye he saw both girls glance at him, look back at each other, and grin. Great...now he had two of the smartest girls in the school plotting to humiliate him.

By the time he had taken his seat across from Ron, his imagination had come up with some pretty horrible things that could possibly happen to him at the hands of those two. Needless to say he was in a bit of a bad mood at the prospect, especially at the fact that it was his own sister helping his true love plot dastardly acts against him!

"How's it goin' with Granger, Harry?" Ron asked, mouth full and a grin on his face.

"It's only been eleven hours, you twit," said Harry, a bit of annoyance creeping into his voice. "This is actually going to take more than one day."

"Oh no!" said Ron in mock surprise. "Harry not getting his way in less than a day? It's the end of the world!"

"Bugger off," grumbled Harry before shoving a big bite of mashed potatoes in his mouth, ending the conversation.

"Settle down, please," came the voice of Dumbledore from the staff table. "Settle down. I have an announcement I would like to make."

A few whispers were exchanged between the students, each trying to guess what it would be before Dumbledore would say it in a second. "I would like to announce that Hogwarts will be holding a Winter Ball in the Great Hall on Christmas night. Fourth years and above only unless invited by an upperclassmen. Formal attire is required."

Excited chattering broke out immediately following the end of Dumbledore's last word and Harry's mood immediately soared. This was the perfect opportunity to finally claim Granger as his own. Nothing says romantic like dancing to slow music in a Great Hall filled with Christmas Decorations. Except for maybe dancing under a full moon...now that is a good idea, Harry thought to himself. And then Hermione would tell him how romantic she found it, and how she loved him, then they would kiss and live happily ever after.

"Harry?" said the dream-Hermione in a voice that sounded an awful lot like Ron's. That couldn't be right. "Harry?" she asked again, this time grabbing him by the shoulder and shaking him, which ended up pulling him out of the dream. Ron was grinning at him with Lavender laughing at his side.

"What's so funny?" Harry snapped, mad that Ron ended his dream.

"Nothing, mate," laughed Ron. "You just got that look on your face again." He made what was probably an accurate imitation of what Harry looked like only seconds ago. "You know...that one."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, rolling his eyes. Nevertheless, he really did need to stop doing that in public. He grinned at Ron and Lavender. "Now watch the master at work."

Harry took his fork and transfigured it into a beautiful crimson rose before checking how his breath smelled with the old 'cup-the-hand-in-front-of-the-face' trick. Smelled like potatoes...oh well, good enough. He hopped up and sauntered over to where Hermione was sitting, making sure to look as cool as he possibly could. He was coming from Aurora's back, which meant that she couldn't see him coming. But Hermione definitely could...and she definitely did, for her eyes widened a bit upon seeing him...then she rolled them. Not a good sign, but Harry wasn't one to give up easily...or pay any attention to body language whatsoever. "So, Granger..." said Harry, casually tossing the rose on her plate. Then he shot her his most disarming and heart-melting grin. Why he thought it would work on her this time instead of the past 500 times, only he could know. "Would a beautiful young lady such as yourself accompany a dashing young man—namely me—to the winter ball?" he asked, arching a single eyebrow. Every girl within earshot was listening intently.

Hermione snorted. "Why even bother asking when you already know what I'm going to say?" she asked coldly.

Harry put his grin into maximum overdrive and Hermione rolled her eyes again as several of the listening girls squealed. "So I'll be waiting in our common room for you?" he asked cheekily, hoping his confidence would win a few points with her.

"You're not really that daft, are you?" demanded Hermione, arching an eyebrow in return. "There's no way I would ever go to any social event with you, especially a dance. And besides—since I know you weren't listening in Dumbledore's office last night—we're going to be decorating the Great Hall pretty much all day, so you won't be waiting for anybody anywhere but here."

"So is that a maybe?" Harry asked, hoping to charm her even if only a tiny bit.

"No maybe," said Hermione exasperatedly. "I. Am. Not. Going. With. You. Period."

"Very well, then," said Harry graciously, the rejection not phasing him in the slightest. "When you realize I'm the one for you, I'll be there."

"Oh Merlin, Potter," said Hermione disbelievingly. "You really are that daft."

She got up and brushed past Harry on her way to Ravenclaw table. Harry caught a scent of vanilla. Hermione stopped within earshot of Harry next to Terry Boot and asked, "Terry, will you go to the ball with me?"

Harry glared at the poor Ravenclaw, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. The whole school knew of Harry's campaign to claim Hermione's heart. Thus, she was strictly off-limits. The last boy to try to make a move on Hermione found his underwear on his head in the middle of lunch. "Erm...uhh..." said Terry as a majority of the student population listened in.

"I promise you that Potter nor his friends will lay a finger on you," Hermione said kindly.

"And how can you promise that?" asked Harry, his temper rising.

"I can promise you that, Terry, because if he does I will hate him for the rest of our lives," she said. "At least it's still only at dislike and disdain for now. Does that suffice?"

Terry swallowed hard, his Adam's Apple visibly moving. He glanced at Harry, who looked at him with that one look that said 'don't do it or you're dead', then glanced at Hermione, who was smiling hopefully at him. "Er...okay," he finally managed to squeeze out. "I-I'll go with you. Thank you."

"Great," said Hermione, leaning down and giving Terry a peck on the cheek. "Meet me at the entrance to the Great Hall at six."

Well, so much for the romantic ball, Harry thought to himself as he stomped back to his spot across from Ron, who was pounding the table as he laughed.

"Watch the master at work, he said!" Ron choked out between laughs and table-pounds.

But Harry wasn't paying attention to him. He couldn't believe that Hermione not only denied him but asked out someone else right in front of his face! Now that was playing dirty.

"Well, Potter," said an arrogant voice from behind Harry, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"What the hell do you want, Malfoy?" snapped Harry, really not in the mood to deal with him right now.

"Looks like even slags won't go out with someone as pathetic as you," said Malfoy icily, a sneer on his face.

The pudding exploded from behind Harry, hitting everyone but Harry himself. Most of it flew right into Malfoy's face. Luckily, after Harry's previous incident, the student population had resumed its normal level of cacophony and the teachers took no notice. He was just about to stand up and pummel Malfoy until he was but a stain on the floor of the Great Hall when a hand grabbed his and pulled him away towards the Entrance Hall. He glared at Malfoy until he was out of sight.

Once in the Entrance Hall, Harry took a big, calming breath of air.

"Harry, you really shouldn't lose control like that. You could seriously injure someone," said the person who had dragged him away from Malfoy.

"I know, Luna, but I was just so angry," said Harry, clenching his hands into fists. "He called her a slag."

"Come on, Harry," said Luna skeptically. "You and I both know he's said much worse than that. You weren't really mad at him."

"Maybe not," said Harry angrily, "but he sure makes a good target for my anger." He finally calmed down with one last deep breath. "I can't believe I really lost control. That hasn't happened to me since first year."

"It's alright to be angry at Hermione," said Luna simply. "She wronged you. It was fine for her to reject you, but asking Terry to the ball right in front of you was a step too far."

Harry chuckled. "We both know I've already forgiven her, though."

"That's true," said Luna. "I was just making sure you knew it was alright to be angry at her."

Harry sighed and said, "I know. And I was. Despite everything I say about her, I know she's not perfect. I don't expect her to be perfect."

Luna nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Now, who are you going to take to the dance?"

Harry closed his eyes and thought about it for a second before saying, "Do you want to go as friends?"

Luna smiled sadly at him. "I'm afraid not. But thanks for thinking of me, though."

"Neville?" asked Harry, even though he already knew the answer. Luna was in a somewhat similar situation, except for the fact that Luna and Neville were friends...and Luna still didn't know whether Neville returned her feelings.

Luna nodded.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe it was just better to..."I'm not going with anybody," he said. "It's too much hassle to ask a girl out and pretend to be interested in her when all I'm really interested in is Hermione."

"Good choice," said Luna. "Maybe it'll also show her the extent of your feelings for her."

"Hopefully," grumbled Harry.

"Now, you ready to go back to dinner?" asked Luna.

"Yep," said Harry, forcing his trademark smirk on his face. He didn't look anywhere near Hermione when he got in the Great Hall.

That night in bed Harry couldn't help but think that was quite a long and interesting first day back.

It looked like it was going to be a long and interesting year.

A/N: Don't worry, this isn't going to be your classic, cliched, fall in love at the ball story. I have something much more...interesting planned.

Please Review!

A/N: Please Enjoy!

Chapter 5 - A Small Blip

Harry sighed as he pushed his bacon and eggs around his plate, not putting a single bite in his mouth.

He was getting depressed, and about who else but Hermione? Her rejection and subsequent asking Terry Boot to the ball made him want to mope around like just another angsty teenager.

But Ron knew Harry better than that. "Harry, mate...what the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded.

Harry sighed a long, depressed, weary sigh. "Granger," he said miserably.

"What about her?" asked Ron, already knowing where this was going but wanting to hear it out of his best friend's mouth.

"She's interested in another bloke, of course," replied Harry, making it sound like it was obvious (which it was). "I'll never get her to go out with me, will I? All I seem to do is push her further and further away."

Ron blinked once before reaching over the table and smacking Harry hard across the face. "Ouch! What the bloody hell was that for?" Harry yelled as he clutched his tender cheek.

"You sound like a bloody girl, Harry," said Ron. As much as he hated it when Harry always went on about Granger, it was better than seeing his friend depressed and morose. "You don't sound like my best mate at all." Harry just looked at him with those sad eyes. "God dammit, Harry! The Harry I know would never give up after a couple setbacks and rejections! The Harry I know wouldn't let go of the confidence he has in winning Granger's heart! The Harry I know isn't a pathetic bastard who shares his feelings with other guys! And last but not least, the Harry I know would never let someone as unpopular, as dorky, as...as ugly as Terry Boot have the upper hand on him for more than a few minutes!" Harry was now looking at Ron with steely eyes full of resolve. "Now pull yourself together man, pull on your big boy pants, and kick some Ravenclaw arse!"

"You're right, Ron!" yelled Harry, pounding the table with his fists. "I can't believe I got depressed over Granger! I know, with all my charm, and coolness, and suaveness, and awesomeness, that she will fall for me sooner or later!" Harry jumped up and raised his hands to the sky, about to shout out something even more stupid and egotistical than what he had just said, when the bell signaling ten minutes until the start of class rang. Harry quickly grabbed his books, flashed a grin at Ron, and cried, "Thank you for renewing my vigor!" before sprinting out of the Great Hall while laughing victoriously.

Ron just stared, mouth open, at the doors leading out of the Great Hall. He swallowed once, looked up at the enchanted ceiling, and said, "What have I done?"

---

1 Week Later

Harry was strutting through the halls by himself, practicing using his charm and charisma on the female population of the school. As he was passing a group of Hufflepuff sixth years, he grinned at them and shot them a sly wink, enjoying the reaction he received. They all smiled back shyly, some of them having the courage to bat their eyelashes back at him. Just as he turned to move on, someone fell into step beside him and made a disgusted noise. "Dear Merlin, Potter." Ah...Hermione. "You've just reinforced reason number three why I would never go out with you."

Harry clenched his jaws and eyes shut, cursing himself mentally. "And what is number reason three?" he asked, recovering nicely with the grin he gave her (even though she wasn't looking). "That I'm so incredibly handsome that women will be admiring me even when you're with me?"

"No," said Hermione tersely. "That you're so incredibly ego-driven and selfish that you'd cheat on me."

Harry stopped in his tracks immediately, grabbing Hermione's upper arm. She immediately wrenched it out of his grip but remained where she was, even turning towards Harry to face him off. She actually flinched back though when she saw the fire in his eyes. "Don't you dare say that I'd ever cheat on anybody, let alone you."

"What was that back there then?" Hermione asked coldly.

"In case you forgot, I'm single," said Harry. "And all that happened was that I grinned at them. They responded accordingly."

Hermione looked at him disbelievingly. "So that's how you get your kicks? You flaunt yourself in front of girls, knowing how handsome you are, even though they have no chance of ever being with you? You give them just enough to leave them wanting and desperately wishing, yet you never give them more?"

"The only girl who I'm even interested in in this whole school is you, Granger," said Harry earnestly. "And how can you look at me disgustedly about leading girls on when you do the same thing to me?" he practically growled.

"I do not do the same thing!" said Hermione indignantly, glaring up at him.

"Really?" asked Harry disbelievingly. "Because you're doing it right now, only it's one hundred times worse for me than it was for those girls. Just being in your presence, seeing your face, smelling your perfume, watching you work in class. It..." Harry swallowed. "It's more intoxicating than any narcotic."

Hermione just stared up at him, unsure of how to respond, especially since this was a side of Harry she had never seen before. He had always been arrogant and conceited, he had never before admitted that he had a weakness. Her highly logical brain didn't know what to do in situations like these. Harry took a step closer to Hermione until they were only a few inches apart and Hermione took a very small step back, barely increasing the distance between them. For some reason she couldn't tear her gaze from his eyes...his warm, beautiful, emerald eyes. Her throat wasn't working either, all she could do was swallow.

Harry lowered his face until their noses were a few inches apart. Hermione felt her face heat up as a small smile subconsciously made its way onto her face. Harry grinned at her and said, "You called me handsome."

Harry's voice seemed to snap Hermione out of the trance she was in and she leapt back in disgust, her face flaming red. "What do you think you're doing, Potter?"

Harry couldn't help but regret at least a little that his stupidity had just ruined whatever moment they just had. Nevertheless, his hopes had never been higher. He smirked confidently at the woman he loved and said, "Doing to you what you do to me every day. That's how I feel when you're even in the same room as me." His smirk grew wider. "You're mine...you just don't know it yet."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Harry and tried her hardest to glare at him, but Harry saw her lips quiver a little. She whirled around and quickly walked out of the hallway, not even glancing behind her once to see if he was following.

She wouldn't forget this encounter any time soon.

He had slipped past her defenses for the first time ever.

---

Hermione furiously swiped at the tears of frustration that were blurring her vision. How she could've let something like that happen was beyond her. She was supposed to be the logical one...she never let her impulses or feelings control her. Yet she had stood there like an idiot and let Harry play her like a harp.

Hermione collided with someone and went sprawling down to the floor, apologizing profusely as she gathered her books. "Hermione...Hermione, it's me," said a voice between her apologies. "I was just looking for you. Not exactly the way I expected to find you, but..." the speaker had just realized that tears were running down Hermione's face. "Hermione, why are you crying?"

Hermione let out a choked laugh and wiped her face. "Why do you think?" she asked, her voice a little hoarse.

The speaker growled, "What did my idiot brother do this time?"

---

"Why can't he understand that you just want him to leave you alone?" Aurora demanded from the foot of Hermione's bed after Hermione had told her what had happened. Hermione was sitting against the headboard.

"He gets everything he wants," said Hermione. "You already know he thinks I'll suddenly realize I've loved him all along or some nonsense like that."

"He is a bit of an idiot," admitted Aurora.

They were quiet for a few seconds before Hermione chuckled and said, "If only he weren't good-looking. I wouldn't have experienced that little scene back there."

"You think he's good-looking?" asked Aurora, raising a single eyebrow.

"Is it wrong to be physically attracted to a handsome guy?" asked Hermione defensively. "I would still never go out with him, in the end personality beats out looks any day with me. It's just that I have these damned teenage hormones."

"Well," said Aurora, taking in a deep breath. "Looks like you're going to have to show him what happens when he tries to make a move on you."

---

Harry glance at the seat next to him as he put the finishing touches on his potion. Hermione was sitting there reading, her potion already finished. She hadn't spoken to him even once today, not even to tell him off or degrade him (not that those had any effect on him). The weird thing was that she had acted like he didn't exist all day. She hadn't looked at him, acknowledged him, or responded to his advancements even once.

Harry had been expecting tentacles growing out of his face or boils breaking out all over his body or something. What Hermione was doing to him was twenty times worse.

He knew he had pushed and upset her, but he didn't know he had upset her that much. Quite honestly, it made him feel incredibly guilty. He had that kind of guilt that makes your stomach churn and hurt. The last thing he wanted to do in life was hurt Granger, truly hurt her, not just annoy her or something like that. It seemed that when he had finally slipped past her defenses for the first time, he had truly hurt her for the first (and hopefully last) time. It seemed more like a defeat than a victory that he had truly affected her for the first time now that it was a day later and he could see the effects.

Harry sighed and turned away from his potion even though it wasn't done yet. What he was about to do was much more important than his stupid potions mark. This mattered much more in terms of his future.

"Look, Granger," he said, unsure of how to go about this, especially since she didn't look up from her book. At least her eyes stopped moving across the page. Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe it would be better not to over think this and just speak from the heart.

Oh well, he thought. Here goes nothing.

---

"Look, Granger," said Harry from Hermione's left. Her eyes stopped moving, Harry wasn't going to be an idiot w

ith what he was going to say next. She could tell by the tone of his voice. "I know I can be an arrogant, egotistical, obnoxious prat sometimes...okay, pretty much all the time. I just want you to know that I don't try to do those things...they're just my nature." Hermione couldn't see where this was going. Apparently Harry didn't either. "Er...wait a second, that's not exactly what I wanted to say. What I wanted to say was that even though I'm arrogant and may seem self-centered, what I say about you, my feelings about you, are in no way false. The last thing I wanted to do to you yesterday was cause you pain yet it seemed to be the only thing I accomplished with what I did. If I ever cause you pain like I did yesterday, please...hit me with a painful hex, or slap me across the face, or...or...do something to me immediately so I can apologize right then and there and hopefully rectify my mistake."

Hermione continued looking down at her book, pretending she hadn't heard him. He was so confusing right now and the only person she knew who she didn't really know what to expect from. Why couldn't he just always be an arse?

A/N: I wrote this one a bit differently than the first chapters. My muse just whisked me off in this somewhat different direction. The next chapter will be back to the usual, you can expect more drama and scenes such as the ones above more in the later chapters of the story.

I hope you enjoyed it and please review!

A/N: Here you go, the next chap!

Chapter 6 – An (Un)Fortunate Occurrence

A few days after the incident and subsequent apology Harry was sitting in his seat in potions right next to Hermione, who still hadn't talked to him or even acknowledged his apology. Harry wasn't even completely sure she had heard it.

Professor Snape sneered at Harry's mediocre potion as he walked past. He also sneered at Hermione's perfect, finished potion. The greasy-haired professor truly hated both of them. Harry because he was James's son and Hermione because she was a know-it-all who always won the house cup for Gryffindor.

For some reason, he smirked at Harry with an evil glint in his eye before he turned around and walked to the front of the classroom. He had the class bring up their potions and waited until they had all sat back down before addressing them.

"Now, for your N.E.W.T. project," Snape began and most of the class groaned (Hermione perked up). "It will be in pairs," friends caught each other's eyes and smirked, "that I will choose." More groaning. "You will be making Polyjuice Potion and writing a report that includes the properties of every ingredient and why each ingredient is used in making the potion."

He looked up at Hermione and shot her a nasty grin. "The first pair…is Potter and Granger."

Harry face lit up as he looked at Hermione, who had her eyes shut and was taking deep breaths through her nose. Harry was thankful that Snape seemed to dislike Hermione even more than himself.

"Looks like we'll be together, eh?" said Harry cheekily, nudging Hermione's shoulder with his elbow. She shot him her 'go die in a hole' glare. "Don't be like that, Granger. This is going to be great!"

Hermione didn't say anything and Snape finished pairing the students off just as the bell signaling the end of class rang. Harry grabbed his stuff and walked out of the class next to Ron, who had somehow gotten extremely lucky and been paired with his girlfriend. "This isn't going to be so bad, is it, Harry?"

Harry smiled as he watched Hermione, who was walking to lunch while reading a book. "No, not at all," he said.

As he watched Hermione, he remembered something. "Oi, Granger!"

Hermione gave absolutely no sign that she was listening, so Harry knew that she was. "Are you going to our first Quidditch match on Saturday? I'm going for my 25th straight capture…"

Hermione scoffed and turned around. "You think I give a damn about your stupid Quidditch skills?" she asked rhetorically, speaking to him for the first time since the incident. "Based on what you know of me, how would that impress me?"

"So you want to be impressed?" asked Harry smoothly, smirking at her.

"Of course not!" said Hermione, her face heating up a bit. "I'm trying to get you to stop bothering me, period."

"Er…we're kind of working on a big project together, so that's going to be kind of hard to do," said Harry.

"We are not working on the project," said Hermione. "I'm doing it all so you can't mess it up!"

"Hey!" said Harry indignantly. "I need to do this stuff so I can do well on my N.E.W.T.s! That's not even fair!"

Hermione had a brief internal struggle with herself. "You can read the report when I'm done," she said grudgingly. "Nothing else."

Harry knew that that was all he was going to get out of that bargain. "Fine," he said. "Now, about the match. Will you go to dinner with me in Hogsmeade for our celebration party? I could use an intelligent, foxy lady at my side."

Hermione shot him another withering glare. "You are so stupid."

"I compliment you and all you have to say is that I'm stupid?" said Harry. "Not very nice, is it?"

"Just leave me alone!" demanded Hermione. "That's why I'm calling you stupid!"

"Hmmm…" said Harry thoughtfully. "I know! I'll leave you alone if...you agree to go on a date with me."

"No," said Hermione quickly and decisively. "I wouldn't go on a date with you if you were the last man on Earth."

They were approaching the Great Hall at this point and Harry left her with a final thought. "You're so confident now, but…you'll give in eventually."

He smirked to himself as he imagined the look of fury on Hermione's face.

---

That night was the first night Hermione actually worked on her homework in the shared common room while Harry was in there. And for once Harry didn't bother her. He knew that he would be in for some serious pain if he interrupted her studies—they were absolutely sacred to her.

At 10 PM Harry was shocked out of the stupor he was in (he had been thinking very hard about an Arithmancy answer) by the sound of a giant book being slammed on the table.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed out of instinct as he jumped in his seat.

Hermione just rolled her eyes at him before opening the book and sticking the end of her quill into her mouth in concentration. "What is that book for?" Harry asked with genuine curiosity.

Hermione silently sighed as though she were dealing with a young child. "This is the Potions Syllabary. So I can write the report."

"You're starting tonight?" asked Harry incredulously. "It's not due for another month!"

"Of course I'm starting it tonight!" said Hermione. "Better early than at the last minute." With that said, she turned back to her work, giving Harry the clear sign that he was to stop talking to her.

They worked in silence for the next half hour, when Harry finished his homework. Harry pretended that he wasn't finished so he could watch Hermione in her element. She was always at her most beautiful when she was working and concentrating. And when she was yawning. And when her eyes were slowly closing. And when she fell asleep on the sofa not ten minutes later, not even a page of the report finished.

Harry smiled and conjured a soft blanket to tuck Hermione in. The thought to disturb her in her sleep so she could move to her bed never crossed his mind—she looked so peaceful when she was sleeping. As he tucked her in, she smiled and her eyes slowly opened before hazy confusion passed through them. "Am I…dreaming?" she asked softly.

Harry nodded, hoping she would fall back asleep in his presence. Hermione's eyes closed and Harry breathed a sigh of relief, but Hermione wasn't done yet. "Why do you have to be such an arse in real life?" she asked. "Why can't you be the Harry of my dreams? The one…the one who's always nice to me and decides to ro…" she let out a big yawn, "…romance me," she breathed before her breathing became even.

Harry, on the other hand, wasn't breathing out of shock. Hermione really did have hidden feelings for him…well, for a nicer, more romantic him. But some form of feeling was definitely there.

Now if he could only become the man of his dreams.

What could he do that was nice?

Harry thought hard, for some reason scanning the room for ideas. His eyes came to rest on the potions book. How better to show that he was nice and cared for her than doing a bunch of work?

So he pulled the Syllabary so it was facing him and began looking up the ingredients.

He found Lacewing Flies, put the pen to the paper and wrote, "The main property of Lacewing Flies is that it spreads the catalyst needed for a short-term DNA makeover…"

---

"Ahhh!" cried Harry as a freezing cold jet of water slammed into his face, waking him up.

"Finite!" said a very angry (ah…he mentally sighed in bliss) Hermione.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" he demanded.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Hermione, holding up the finished potions report, which totaled in at 13 pages.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry. "Isn't it obvious? I did the report last night after you fell asleep."

"You did 12 pages of writing just to make me mad?" asked Hermione incredulously. "Your resolve to piss me off is really that great?"

"What?" asked Harry, genuinely confused. "I did it because I was trying to be nice," he informed her.

"…Nice?" Hermione asked as though she had never heard the word before.

"Yeah, nice," said Harry as though she was stupid (she was seriously offending him—was it that foreign a concept that he had it in himself to be nice?). "You fell asleep and I knew you wanted the report done as soon as possible so I did it last night."

Hermione looked torn as to how she wanted to respond. On the one hand she wanted to be mad at Harry like normal and on the other she wanted to open up a bit to him and thank him…except for the fact that the last time she opened up to him she got hurt. "Whatever," she finally replied indifferently. "That wasn't even the reason I woke you up."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Quidditch match starts in an hour and a half," said Hermione. "Shouldn't you be getting ready or something?" she asked with what seemed to be genuine concern.

"Oh, Merlin!" said Harry before dashing upstairs to change into his Quidditch robes. He would've normally been down at the pitch by now, but he had stayed up until three in the morning finishing the report.

When he got back down to the common room, he smirked at Hermione. "Thanks for waking me up. Looks like you might actually care about me," he teased her.

"Yeah right," said Hermione indifferently. "I just want Gryffindor to keep the Quidditch and House Cups."

Harry sighed in resignation and opened the portrait hole. Just as he was about to step through the portrait hole Hermione finally sucked up her pride and said, "And Harry…" it was actually the use of his first name that truly caught his ear. He looked back to see Hermione looking at her feet. "Thanks for finishing the report."

And Harry, in return, decided to take his foot out of his mouth and neither gloat nor mention the fact that she called him Harry for the first time. However, he did hopefully ask, "Are you coming to the match?"

Hermione just shot him her glare that said 'are you really that stupid?'

Looked like there was still a long way to go.

---

Hermione didn't know why, but she had actually gone down to watch the match. Aurora was sitting right next to her, happily waving a Gryffindor flag. According to Aurora, she didn't give a damn if Harry took a bludger to the face but she wanted to see Daniel in his first match. Daniel was a chaser and therefore a prime target for bludgers, much to the sadness of his older sister.

Gryffindor was currently losing to Slytherin by eighty points. The actual main problem of that was Daniel. The Slytherin chasers were all sixth or seventh years so it was actually like it was three chasers against two in terms of size and muscle, not to mention the fact that Daniel had first-match jitters.

Slytherin pulled up to a hundred over Gryffindor and Hermione's spirits were sinking. Winning was looking more and more hopeless. According to Aurora however, there was a reason why Harry always bragged about his Quidditch skills. He was the best seeker in over 300 years to attend Hogwarts, plain and simple.

And Hermione did have to admit that he looked more at home on a broom than the ground, pulling maneuvers that seemed impossible and making them look effortless at the same time. The only way Gryffindor would win was if Harry snatched the snitch soon.

And speak of the devil…Harry zipped by so fast that Hermione had to grab her hat to keep it from flying off. There was only one reason why Harry would be going that fast, and the crowd knew it. The Gryffindor side was deafeningly loud as Harry wove through the other players on the pitch in pursuit of the little golden ball. The Slytherin seeker was falling farther and farther behind as he maneuvered through the other players less smoothly than Harry, who was now diving at breakneck speed. Hermione saw the glint of gold streak through the pitch towards the stands right where she was at, and she watched in slow motion as Harry approached it, a look of fierce determination on his face. It was actually quite intimidating and dark.

Then both Slytherin beaters rose behind him, bats held high and primed to strike. They both hit bludgers, which went careening in Harry's direction. Harry was so focused on the snitch that he didn't notice, and the bludgers were definitely going to reach Harry first. The Gryffindor beaters were on the other side of the pitch. Harry was going to be demolished by those bludgers.

"Harry! LOOK OUT!"

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it and please review!

A/N: So here I am with the next chap! I’m hoping to keep this story unpredictable…but I really do enjoy your guesses!

Thanks for all of your awesome reviews and I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

Chapter 7 - The Hospital…of Love?

“Harry! LOOK OUT!” Hermione slapped a hand over her mouth and turned red when she realized the she was the one who yelled that. Aurora turned her head at Hermione and raised an eyebrow.

What happened next seemed to take forever when in actuality it all took less than two seconds.

Harry took a quick glance at both bludgers streaking towards him, each on opposite sides. He seemed to tense up—he realized he wasn’t going to make it. But then he did something unexpected. He grinned at Hermione and winked at her, then jumped off of his broom in the direction of the snitch. Harry flew through the air, his face determined.

His fist closed around the snitch and he looked triumphant for only a millisecond before it turned to alarm as the stands rapidly approached him. He smashed into them only a few feet from Hermione, letting out a cry of pain before he blacked out. The stands erupted in a myriad of sounds. Slytherin booed and made sounds of disgust as Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff cheered for the capture. The Gryffindor stands were going wild and screaming. Most of the screaming came from the immediate vicinity of where Harry had crashed into the stands. Blood was leaking out of a pretty big gash on his forehead and his left foot was pointing backwards, painting a gruesome picture.

Hermione was scared out of her mind and so was Aurora, who was clinging onto Hermione’s arm and crying into her shoulder. Even though Hermione wasn’t a big fan of Harry and his arrogant personality, it didn’t mean she wanted him dead. The Gryffindor team was hovering on their brooms near where Harry had crashed, and Madam Pomfrey had already conjured a medical stretcher and was moving Harry onto it while seemingly shouting something at Hermione. Hermione shook her head and told herself to get a grip, she wasn’t of any use to anybody if she was in shock.

“Ms. Granger! Please accompany me to the Medical Wing!” Madam Pomfrey was shouting over the crowd.

Hermione nodded and pushed her way through the crowd. She had wanted to be a healer since her third year and had been Madam Pomfrey’s aide since the beginning of sixth year. She was actually the best healer in Hogwarts behind Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey herself.

Hermione knew from looking at the wound that unless an ambulance was literally less than a minute away, the head wound would’ve been fatal for a muggle. Fortunately for Harry, he wasn’t a muggle.

Madam Pomfrey first had Hermione levitate Harry’s stretcher while she worked on closing the head wound. Wizards were imbibed with magic, which also naturally repelled foreign magic to a certain (and small) extent. While this means very little in terms of offensive magic, half a second lost in healing could be fatal. So Hermione and Madam Pomfrey were walking as fast as they could toward the medical wing as they could while keeping Harry relatively stable so Madam Pomfrey could properly close the wound while simultaneously cleaning it.

By the time they had made it up to the Hospital, the wound had closed and Harry was breathing a little easier. Madam Pomfrey quickly mended all of Harry’s visible wounds (such as his broken legs) and muttered an incantation that scanned for internal injuries.

It turned out that four of Harry’s ribs had broken and one had punctured his left lung, another wound that had to be healed immediately. Luckily, immediately was no problem when magic was at hand and in no time at all Harry looked back to his healthy self, just a seventeen-year-old boy who was sleeping.

After levitating Harry onto his bed, Hermione wiped the sweat off her forehead and plopped down on the chair next to his bed and conjured a glass of water. She regained her breath and willed her legs to stop trembling. That was the worst injury she had ever participated in healing (even though she only levitated him). It left her shaking from exhaustion after the adrenalin rush had faded and she hated to admit that she had felt so scared. If she had been on her own or in charge, she didn’t know if she would’ve been able to save his life.

“Yes you would have, Ms. Granger,” said Madam Pomfrey, who was carefully pouring a potion into Harry’s mouth.

Hermione blushed scarlet and muttered, “Did I speak out loud?”

“No,” said Madam Pomfrey with a small smile as she put the empty goblet on Harry’s bedside table. “I recognize that look. The same look I had when I was part of healing an injury not even as bad as this one.” Hermione looked back down at her shoes, which had a small drop of blood on them. “The same look Lily Evans had when she was sitting in that very seat, James Potter lying in that bed.”

“Lily Evans?” Hermione inquired. The name Lily rang a bell, but no Evans.

“Well, for eighteen years now it’s been Lily Potter,” said Madam Pomfrey.

“Lily Potter,” said Hermione almost reverently, her eyes sparkling as she looked at her mentor. “The youngest Head of the Emergency Wing in St. Mungo’s in over two hundred years.” Then Hermione cast her eyes down at the floor in shame. “But she had a reason to be scared,” she said morosely.

“Whatever do you mean by that?” asked Madam Pomfrey.

“Well, she married James Potter, didn’t she?” asked Hermione, raising an eyebrow at Hogwarts’s Healer. “She was probably in love with him by then and they had probably been friends for a while before that. She liked who was dying, I hold only disdain for Harry.”

Madam Pomfrey let out a very rare loud laugh and quickly used her hand to cover her mouth and stifle the others. “My dear girl,” she said between chuckles. “That is the funniest thing I’ve heard in years!” Hermione looked at her quizzically and she continued. “Lily disliked James just as much as you dislike Harry!”

Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed and she looked up at Madam Pomfrey, trying to use her vast intellect to figure out what her mentor meant. “Wait...they got married when they were eighteen, though. That doesn’t make any sense.”

Madam Pomfrey smiled at her young pupil as a faraway look crossed her face, like she was reminiscing. “Ahh…Lily and James,” she said. “You two remind me so much of Lily and James. One smart, the other putting up a tough and arrogant act to hide the vulnerability on the inside. Lily loathed James. She was a strong, intelligent, beautiful, independent girl…very much like you, I’ll say. James, well…let’s just say the apple didn’t fall far from the tree with this one here,” she said, patting Harry’s bed. “Naturally, Lily didn’t like James because of the way he treated his fellow students, females, and most of all…himself.”

Hermione nodded in understanding. “But then how did they end up married only one year later?”

Madam Pomfrey shrugged. “It was just one of those things. James toned down his arrogance and began trying to impress Lily by showing her how good of a person he could be and how he had changed…” Madam Pomfrey smiled as a dreamy look came on her face, “…all for her.”

Hermione knew she had the same dreamy look on her face as Madam Pomfrey. It was all so romantic. But then a thought hit Hermione and she snorted. “Fat chance of that happening with this one here, though,” she said in a humorous voice.

Madam Pomfrey arched an eyebrow at the student but said nothing before turning around and heading back to her office. But before she shut the doors, Madam Pomfrey turned back around, a very serious look on her face, and said, “Oh, and…” her serious look suddenly turned into a smile and she said, “Please try not to draw attention to yourself at future Gryffindor Quidditch matches. Harry’s in here far too much already even when he’s not trying to impress you. Please tell him when he wakes up that he has to stay the night to make sure the concussion is completely gone.”

Madam Pomfrey shut her doors, leaving Hermione thoroughly confused. She knew that Madam Pomfrey was going to say something else right then before smiling—she was going to give Hermione the answer. The answer to her questions. The answer that couldn’t be found in books but through life experience only. Why couldn’t adults ever give her those types of answers—it was so infuriating! They always left her to find those answers on her own, like they were doing her some great service by doing so.

Because no matter what Hermione told her friends or herself, a deep corner of her was attracted to Harry and cared for him, and she knew that Madam Pomfrey was about to comment on that.

Hermione sighed and took a quick glance at Harry’s face and her eyebrows furrowed.

A part of you is attracted to him because when you see him like this, you see what’s hidden when he’s aware of your presence.

When Hermione looked at Harry sleeping, or if she opened her door a crack to peek at him as he did his homework, or when he was talking to his younger brother, she saw what he could be. He could be a kind, modest boy. He just turned into a prat when he was around her because he was afraid of rejection and didn’t want it to show. When he was in his arrogant mode, he could pretend that every time she blew him off or made a cruel remark, it didn’t affect him because he was the great bloody Harry Potter, the coolest person at school who could get any other girl he wanted.

He was afraid that if he asked her sincerely and didn’t make a fool of himself as he did it, then the rejection was more real. If only he could realize that if he didn’t act like an arrogant prat and was nice to people and her, then he wouldn’t be rejected.

But Hermione reminded herself that in the end, none of this mattered all too much. Because Harry was an arrogant prat who thought the Earth revolved around him. He may have had that tiny speck of kindness and humbleness in him, but 99 percent of the time, he was a complete git.

“See something you like?” Harry’s voice said as a grin made its way onto his face and his eyes opened a bit.

“No,” said Hermione, more annoyed than usual at Harry’s conceitedness. “I was just amazed that you somehow got even uglier than you had been.”

Hermione did have enough sense of mind to inspect Harry’s eyes closely as he gave her his usual ‘that-didn’t-affect-me-at-all’ smirk. Hurt and pain shone through them. “Aw, is someone upset because they revealed that they truly care for my wellbeing?” he asked teasingly, making no allusion to his true feelings.

“Truly care for your wellbeing?” Hermione asked incredulously, now getting angry that Harry couldn’t admit to himself what she now saw. “Like I give a damn,” she said harshly, making Harry flinch back. “I could care less about your stupid, arrogant, conceited, selfish, pitiful existence.” For some reason the words tasted foul in her mouth. She had never said anything this mean to anybody and was ashamed and embarrassed to the point that tears were forming in her eyes. But she couldn’t find it in herself at the moment to apologize. Instead, she practically spat, “You’re staying here tonight,” before she angrily strode to the doors, which were blasted open by the magic she had lost control of in her fit of anger.

As soon as she made it to her dormitory, she cried.

She didn’t know exactly why she was crying. Maybe because she had made a fool of herself by getting that angry for no obvious reason. Maybe it was because her heart hurt because she wasn’t the type to intentionally hurt someone else physically or emotionally.

Or maybe the real reason was something Hermione wouldn’t admit to herself.

Maybe it was because of the look on his face when I said those words to him.

A/N: I bet you were expecting something completely different when you saw the chapter title. I bet you think that Hermione is beginning to change her thoughts about Harry and the story is going to be over within a few chapters. I bet you’re wrong.

Because when have I ever made things that easy between the two?

Please Review!

A/N: I promised myself that at least once during this story I’d post three days consecutively! Don’t ask me why…I just set weird challenges for myself as a way of motivating myself to strive harder!

Please Enjoy!

A mighty pain to love it is,
And ’tis a pain that pain to miss;
But of all pains, the greatest pain
It is to love, but love in vain.
-Abraham Cowley

Chapter 8 – What You do to Me

“She thinks I’m pitiful, Ron,” said Harry morosely to his best mate.

“She said that?” Ron asked semi-interestedly as he moved his knight to take Harry’s rook.

“Yeah,” said Harry, rubbing the palms of his hands into his eyes. “She also said I’m arrogant, conceited, and selfish.”

Ron grinned at him. “She may have a point there, mate…well, except for the selfish part,” said Ron thoughtfully.

Harry let out a weak chuckle. “Yeah, she might.”

Ron sighed and ran a hand through his hair before saying, “So…are you going to try and change who you are? For a girl?”

Harry clenched his jaw. If Ron called Hermione ‘just a girl’ one more time he was going to be seriously injured. “Yes, Ron. For Hermione. I’ve actually been trying it for a little over a week now. It’s tough, but if I do it enough, I think it’ll eventually become my nature.”

When he was sure Harry was focused on the chessboard, Ron rolled his eyes.

After the game (in which Harry absolutely demolished Ron as usual), Harry slowly walked back to his dormitory, deep in thought. He wished he could stop acting like such an idiot when Hermione was around, but it never worked out because she made his brain go all fuzzy when she was around.

The nargles must attack me when I’m at my most vulnerable, thought Harry, then laughed as he realized how much Luna had rubbed off on him.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Luna, that was it! Luna was the nicest, most caring, most innocent person he knew! Who better to learn how to be nice from than the epitome of the definition of the word?

His pace picked up and a grin grew on his face he realized how perfect and flawless his plan was. Luna would show him the light—he was sure of it.

His grin nor his step faltered the whole way to his dormitory until he entered the common room. Hermione stiffened up, shoulders tense, and Harry immediately followed suit.

He readjusted his bag over his shoulder so it was sitting in a less precarious position on his shoulder, then lowered his head a little and started walking toward the door of his room. He loved talking to and teasing Hermione, but what she had said to him the night before would have to result in a few more days of wound-licking before he was ready for her cool responses to his come-ons.

But with his hand on the door, ready to push it open, a thought struck him. What would Luna do?

It was quite obvious that Harry was at least partly to blame for Hermione’s outburst last night, otherwise she wouldn’t have been so very angry at him. He must’ve done something to hurt her…again, after he had promised to never do so again. But what could he have possibly done to have hurt her?

Hermione must’ve wondered why Harry had been standing staring at his door for so long, but she didn’t say one word about it, choosing instead to search her feelings for what she needed to do in a situation like this. She knew deep down that no matter how angry she was at someone, she had no right to inflict emotional pain upon them. Her words had been cruel, cutting, meant to cripple. Hermione found that despite how much she fervently wished Harry would just leave her alone and stop confusing and annoying her all the time, she felt incredibly guilty and ashamed that she could so easily degrade and be so mean to her fellow man and not have enough courage to properly apologize to him. Funnily enough, it was for the same reason Harry didn’t sincerely ask her out that she wasn’t apologizing. Even (or should it be especially?) when it came to Harry, she was afraid of being rejected and having her faults flaunted in front of her own eyes.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to get her vocal cords to work. Harry stood there, head hung and hand flat on his door. Finally, he found the will to do something. Just as Hermione finished completely building up her courage to speak his name and apologize to him, Harry sighed loudly and pushed open his door before slipping inside.

And Hermione now fully understood what she had done to him. She had rejected him, flaunted his faults in front of his eyes.

Wounded him so deeply with a few sentences that he found speaking to her and mostly likely teasing her, which was his favorite thing to do, frightening and impossible.

And her mum had told her she didn’t have even one tiny drop of maliciousness in her.

***LFLS***

Harry walked through the castle the next morning on his way to breakfast whistling his favorite tune, which happened to be playing on his walkman. Ever since a seventh year a few years back figured out how to charm electronic objects to work despite the anti-Muggle wards around the castle, electronics had been all the rage. Boomboxes, walkmans, and among the first years an interesting invention called a Game Boy, were seen all over the place, and the professors for the most part didn’t mind (unless said electronics were being used in class or had picture-taking capabilities). In the common rooms, there were quite a few TVs along with video game systems and VHS players. Technology truly was amazing, the power to run it all with magic maybe just a bit cooler.

It was a Monday, which would’ve normally meant school, but it was the first day of December, which ended up meaning that there was no school that day due to what the international wizarding world viewed as Merlin’s birthday.

Which meant that today was the perfect day to have Luna teach him how to be as nice as she was.

So when he walked into the great hall, he stuffed his headphones into his robe-pocket and scanned the Ravenclaw table for Luna, sighing in relief when he spotted her. You never knew when she might be doing something like waiting in the hollow of a certain forest tree for the glimpse of a wrackspurt as it passed through morning sunlight diluted by exactly three leaves instead of eating breakfast.

“Hello, Harry,” she greeted him with her normal dreamy voice as he sat next to her, causing all the Ravenclaw girls to either faint in delight at being in such proximity to Harry Potter or glare daggers at Luna, who was oblivious to the maliciousness of her peers.

“Hey Luna,” said Harry a bit nervously. Why he was nervous he didn’t know. “H-how’s your breakfast?”

“Delightfully delicious,” said Luna sincerely as she took another bite.

“Can you help me?” Harry asked her after taking a second to process the .

“Yes, I can help you,” she said after swallowing her bite and smiled at him. “Follow me,” she said simply before standing up.

“Wait, now?” asked Harry as he slowly stood up. “And how do you even know what I want you to help me with?”

“I’ve been waiting for this for a while now, the first step to bettering yourself as a person was admitting you needed help,” said Luna thoughtfully. “If I just told you that you needed to become nicer, not only would you have most likely not heeded my advice, if you had it wouldn’t have worked.”

They started walking out of the Great Hall, and as soon as they were out of it Harry said, “It’s not that I’m not nice, I just act like a complete git when around Hermione.”

“You act like a complete git unless you’re talking with me or Daniel,” said Luna knowledgably, leaving no room for argument. Harry still looked at her like he couldn’t believe what she said. “Don’t give me that look, Harry. Lying to yourself accomplishes nothing.”

Harry pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighed as they entered an empty classroom. “I really am conceited and arrogant, aren’t I?” he asked miserably.

“Everyone is a little conceited an arrogant, some just show it a little more than others,” said Luna, trying to cheer Harry up a bit.

“You never think you’re the best at everything, do you?” asked Harry a little more harshly than he intended. He was angry at himself yet he couldn’t stop himself from taking it out on Luna. Which made him even more confused and angry at himself.

“See?” said Luna, deciding to not answer Harry’s question. “You have plenty of kindness and more humbleness than you think you do. You only hurt yourself by taking out your anger on others, Harry.”

“I know,” replied Harry, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration and shame.

“If you didn’t know that, it would mean you have no kindness or feelings for others in you,” said Luna. “That’s why I told you that you have plenty of kindness. You just need to work on making that your primary demeanor.”

“How?” asked Harry desperately. “How can I be nice at all around Hermione?”

“Well, if you’re only nice around Hermione, she’ll see right through and continue thinking you’re arrogant while simultaneously thinking you’re a transparent poser,” Luna politely informed Harry. “You have to be nice to everybody, Harry. You need to practice being humble around everybody, not just Hermione. She will recognize when you’ve bettered yourself as a person, and not just put on an act when you’re around her.”

Harry took in a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds before letting it out. “I can do that…whatever it takes,” he said with conviction.

“Good, because the lessons end as soon as you begin slacking off,” said Luna.

“I understand,” said Harry, not at all surprised by the level of maturity his best female friend possessed.

“Good,” said Luna with a smile. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

***LFLS***

Harry exited the classroom an hour later consciously focusing on what Luna had taught him over the last hour, the primary lesson being the Golden Rule.

Treat others how you want to be treated, Harry repeated in his head. He also learned to treat the opposite sex with respect and not just flaunt himself in front of them. The third thing he learned was to stop acting like he was king of the world when he was around Hermione. Compliment her, romance her, but don’t smirk and casually ask her out as if it meant nothing to him. Women wanted to be appreciated and respected, and wanted a guy who would care for them, not for themselves. Luna said those were Harry’s three biggest problems at the moment.

Oddly, the first person he bumped into was none other than Hermione herself. Unfortunately, he literally bumped into her, sending her books tumbling to the ground. They stood there looking at each other for a second, Hermione’s right eyebrow slowly arching up until Harry thought about Luna’s lesson and quickly squatted down to pick up her books. The old Harry would’ve never bothered with something like that, instead using his wand to quickly gather their belongings up (only if it was a female) and telling whoever it was to watch where they were walking.

But he picked all of her books up (they were surprisingly heavy) and stood back up with them, placing them into a shocked Hermione’s arms.

“Sorry about that,” said Harry, switching his natural smirk into (what he hoped was) a non-charming, perfectly normal smile. “I should probably pay more attention to where I’m going.”

Hermione’s lips parted a little in shock and she squinted up at him as if verifying that he was indeed Harry Potter. When she saw that it was indeed him, she quickly shook her head and said somewhat absent-mindedly, “Not at all, I can barely see over this pile of books,” said Hermione.

Things became a little awkward after that due to the little incident in the library and Harry cleared his throat and almost asked, ‘Why don’t you just levitate them alongside you?’ Instead, a better idea crossed his mind. “Do-do you want me to help you carry them to wherever you’re going?” he asked helpfully (and hopefully).

And Hermione almost retorted with, ‘Don’t you have some girls’ hearts to manipulate?’ before realizing that he wasn’t being arrogant at the moment and didn’t need to be knocked down a peg. Instead, she thankfully said, “S-sure.”

Harry took three-quarters of the books, leaving a much smaller load for Hermione to carry. “I’m headed to the library, though. It’s probably out of your way,” she said.

“That’s alright,” said Harry nonchalantly.

They walked in a semi-awkward silence for the first bit, Hermione growing more and more suspicious by the minute. Was he going to prank her, or wait until they were completely alone and try to play with her feelings again, or turn into a complete, insufferable prat?

Apparently it was none of the above. Instead, he surprised her yet again by saying, “Hermione…I…I’m sorry.”

Hermione blinked, swallowed, and asked, “Sorry for what?”

“Whatever I did to make you so angry last night,” he replied. “Whether it was because I was being an insufferable prat, or because I hurt you somehow, or…or…or whatever I did to you, I’m sorry I made you so angry yesterday,” he said, looking at her the whole time.

Hermione looked down at the floor, still ashamed of herself over how she spoke to Harry the day before. “No, you did nothing wrong,” said Hermione, though that wasn’t the complete truth. But telling Harry the whole truth would result in nothing but another let-down…no matter how he was acting at the moment, she had only ever known him as an arrogant prat. Five minutes of something different wasn’t going to change her opinion of him. “I was just having a bad day and took it out on you,” she said.

“I know you’re lying,” said Harry, shocking Hermione again. “But if you don’t want to tell me the real reason, it’s okay. I understand.”

I’m dreaming, that must be it, thought Hermione. There was no way Harry was ever this nice, and he had never ‘understood’ anything on an emotional level. But when Hermione bit her lip so hard that it almost bled, she continued in her day of surprises as she discovered that this was, in fact, not a dream.

They arrived at the library at that moment and put the books on what was known as ‘Hermione’s Table’. “Thanks, Harry,” she said, giving the boy that she fervently detested a small smile.

“Anytime,” he replied with a smile of his own.

They stood there for a second, Harry unsure what to do at this point, but Hermione decided to finally ask what had bothering this whole time. “Why are you acting so weird?” she asked. Well, that didn’t exactly come out right. She cleared her throat and said, “I mean, why aren’t you teasing me and inflating your already overinflated ego?” Harry knew she didn’t mean that last question to be offensive, she was just honestly asking him shy he wasn’t acting how he normally acted. She finished with, “Why the sudden change?”

Harry’s smile turned into a small one and he let the truth shine through his eyes as he softly said, “For you.”

“For…me?” Hermione asked incredulously.

Harry just shrugged, reaching a hand out towards her face. Her mind told her to move her head backwards and her body wanted to move forwards, which resulted in her not moving at all. She almost leaned into the hand as it went for her cheek, but a flashback of what happened the last time she had allowed Harry to see her vulnerable side it only resulted in pain for her.

It turned out, though, that Harry was never going for her face. Instead, he flicked a bit of her hair and said, “Your hair is gorgeous, Hermione,” before walking away without another word or gesture.

Hermione sat down heavily in her chair and just sat there looking at the books, trying to understand what just happened as she willed the blush staining her cheeks to go away. Harry had been nice…for her. What did that mean? Was he only being nice to her? Did he think being nice to her was the only thing that mattered? Did he not realize that she valued a good personality and that you needed to be a nice, kindhearted, humble person to even be her friend?

Hermione clenched her jaw and squeezed her hands into fists as she realized she was played for a fool.

She shouldn’t have let Harry help her, or pretend to be nice to her, or let him in.

All it would lead to was more pain in the end.

A/N: Getting closer to some key, life-altering moments for the two of them! And I think the next chapter is going to be very enjoyable for Hermione gets some more insight into the psyche of Harry!

I hope you enjoyed and please review!

A/N: I’ve decided that I’m going to try making my chapters a bit longer so you have more to read with each installment at the regular three day mark (That’s why I didn’t uphold my personal challenge of posting three days in a row…). I don’t exactly know if this is going to work out (especially when school starts next month), but I’ll try keeping it up as long as possible.

Thanks for the awesome reviews, please keep ‘em coming!

Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart.
-Washington Irving

Chapter 9 – Who I Want You to Be

2 Weeks Later

Harry’s body swayed with the train and gave a small jerk as the Hogwarts Express came to a stop at King’s Cross station. Harry and Aurora had opted to go home for the first week of Winter Break and arrive back at school on the evening of Christmas Eve. Daniel, who wouldn’t be attending the Christmas Ball, opted instead to stay at home for the full two weeks.

Harry shrunk his luggage, grabbed Hedwig, and stepped off the train, looking for his family. Hermione stepped off the train and walked right in front of him without spotting him. Harry, thinking of the lessons Luna had given her, said, “Have a good week at home, Hermione.”

Hermione looked back at him, still unsure of how to respond to him even though he had been nice for two weeks now. On the one hand, the ‘new’ Harry (Hermione was still sure this was some sort of hoax—Harry had done nothing but prank her all through their first six years of Hogwarts) was very nice and likeable. But on the other hand, Hermione remembered the old Harry and how much he had put her through and annoyed her, not to mention the fact that he was a bragging arse around everyone. But her parents had always taught her to be polite and she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t heard now that she’d turned to face him.

“Er…you too,” she replied more than a little awkwardly before turning back around and resuming her search for her parents.

Harry sighed in relief that she hadn’t bit his head off and wove his way through the crowd in search of his parents. Many wondered why Harry just didn’t give up and why he would want someone who was so mean to him. The answer was simple. He was in love. Not to mention the fact that Hermione was hot when she was angry and he found the fact that she had so much fire in her very attractive.

Something slammed into his midsection and let out a muffled cry of “Harry!” into his shirt.

“Miranda!” he said happily, getting on one knee and hugging her properly. “Where’s mum and dad?”

“C’mon!” she said, grabbing his hand and dragging him through the crowd. Quite a few people said goodbye to him (most of whom he didn’t know) and he was left no option but to say a quick ‘see ya!’ in return.

They finally made it back to his parents, where he first hugged his father then reluctantly acquiesced to receiving the ceremonial hug and fussing-over from his mother. It was ten times worse than usual.

“Stay still, Harry!” she said as she pointed her wand at various points of his body, running scans.

“Mum, I’m fine!” said Harry indignantly, getting more irritated as he heard some snickers around him.

“I’ll be the judge of that, mister,” said Lily sternly as she prodded one of the ribs that he had broken from catching the snitch. Harry knew was in for it, especially when his mother’s eye twitched as she looked up at him with a deadly gleam in her eye. “Harry James Potter, how in the world did you break four ribs, both legs, receive a concussion, and puncture a lung…all on the same day exactly two weeks and two days ago?” She asked shrilly, attracting the attention of even more of his fellow classmates.

“Er…well, you see…”said Harry, who was getting more uncomfortable with every tap of her foot on the floor. “I kinda...jumped off my broom to catch the snitch,” he mumbled quietly. “I got it, though!” he added at the end, hoping it would lessen his mother’s anger for some reason.

“Way to go, son!” said James enthusiastically, giving his son a thumbs up.

Somehow Harry’s plan of adding that last bit worked, for now all of Lily’s anger was directed at her husband. Harry relaxed visibly, then grabbed Miranda’s hand with one of his own and Hedwig’s cage with the other, ready to apparate before his mum turned back to him.

“Straight to the living room, young man,” said Lily dangerously without turning around. “You are not to leave it until I tell you otherwise.

He met the eyes of his dad, Daniel, and Aurora.

James and Daniel both gave him sympathetic looks while his sister smirked at him. He juvenilely stuck his tongue out at her before apparating straight to the living room with Miranda and Hedwig in tow. When they got home, Miranda skipped merrily out of the room, singing, “Harry’s in trouble! Harry’s in trouble!”

Hedwig chirped happily and ruffled her wings before nibbling at a bar of her cage, signifying that she wanted out. Harry complied, watching her jump out of her cage and soar out of the window and into the snowy sky.

Harry flopped onto the couch and let out a heavy sigh, though there was no one around to hear it.

Why he had decided to come home for the week was beyond him.

***LFLS***

The next few days at home reminded Harry exactly why he had come home for the week. After the half-an-hour long lecture about safety and using his brain and being responsible and making him promise he wouldn’t do it again, things went back to normal. Harry and Miranda would play in the snow or watch some television during the daytime, sometimes joined by Daniel and even once by Aurora—when there was no Hermione in the equation, she wasn’t too bad to be around. They also had a few family outings, such as the zoo, a muggle cinema, and an Appleby Arrows Quidditch Match (in which the Chudley Cannons extended their winning streak to 47). They also had a fun game of-two-on two Quidditch: Harry and Daniel versus James and Aurora, with Lily as the referee and Miranda as the resident cheerleader.

And then it was the day before Harry and Aurora were due to go back to the school.

Harry and Miranda were building a snowman, no magic allowed. It was a thankfully clear day, which meant it wasn’t as cold as it could’ve been. Harry had just set down Miranda after picking her up to put the top hat on the snowman’s head when Lily stepped outside.

“Harry, Miranda!” she called. “Come on in and get showered and ready!”

“For what?” Harry asked as he and his sister trudged back into the house.

“Company, of course,” said Lily. “Your father and I told you about it yesterday.”

“Er…no you didn’t,” replied Harry, scratching his head as he tried to remember such an occurrence.

“Yes we did,” insisted Lily. “You were reading your Quidditch magazine on the sofa while you were eating what must’ve been your tenth sandwich in twenty minutes,” she continued, trying to jog his memory. When her son still gave her a blank look, she said, “We told you we were having company over and you nodded and said, ‘right’.”

Harry smirked at her. “Mum, I’m seventeen. If I’m reading a Quidditch magazine and I nod my head and say ‘right’, it means I wasn’t listening at all.” Lily opened her mouth to scold her son, but he smoothly cut her off. “Anyway, who’s coming over?”

“Well, your father is always hoping to expand the Potter fortune, as you know, so we’re having a couple over who are interested in getting investors to expand their business.” said Lily, giving her son a look that said, ‘I dare you to gripe about it’.

But Harry was never one to back down from a challenge. “And why must I attend?”

“Because,” said Lily in her ‘you’re-treading-on-thin-ice-young-man’ voice, “they’ve heard a bit about you and are interested in meeting you. You’re a very polite and handsome young man, I’m sure they’ll love you.” Harry wasn’t sure what them loving him had anything to do with an investment opportunity, but before he could ask, his mother said, “They’re muggles, by the way, so no magic.” Harry nodded and rolled his eyes at the magic thing (Duh). His dad, being an entrepreneur, frequently had dealings with both magical folk and muggles alike. Lily coughed and quickly added, “And they have a daughter your age that’s coming with them.”

Ah, there it is. The real reason. “Really, mum?” said Harry, rolling his eyes. “I already told you, it’s not weird that I haven’t even gone on one date.”

“And why is that?” asked Lily. “You’re a very handsome and nice young man—you should have no problem gaining the attention of beautiful, intelligent young women. And you haven’t told me why it isn’t weird; last I checked both you and your father were keeping the reason very close to yourselves.”

Harry almost choked on air as he realized he had indeed never told his mother why he’d never been on a date, and had made James promise to do the same. And now here he was, cornered. “Er…um…I-I’ll go get ready,” he said nervously, trying to slip past his mum.

But to no avail. She cut him off and raised an eyebrow at him. She frowned up at him. Then it clicked. “I have no problem with it, you know,” she said mysteriously.

Okay, so maybe it hadn’t clicked. “Problem with what?”

“I mean, you’ve never had a girlfriend,” said Lily, seeming kind of unsure of herself—which was a very rare occurrence. “The thought didn’t even cross my mind until now, but really, I would have no problem with it…like I said, you’re very handsome…you’d have no problem gaining the attention of a nice young man either.”

Harry blinked a few times, looking down at his mum like she had grown a third head as he came to understand fully what she had just said. “Mum!” he finally said indignantly. “I’m not gay!”

Lily’s cheeks colored a bit. “Well how am I supposed to know that? You’ve never been with a girl, so I thought…maybe…”

Harry sighed, knowing there was going to be a lot of fawning going on within the next few minutes. “Really, mum, I’m interested in girls…well, one girl in particular,” he finally admitted.

The next thing he knew, he was being squeezed in a bone-crushing embrace. “Oh, my little Harry!” she said when she stepped back, tears of joy in her eyes. “You’ve grown up so fast. Is she your first?”

“My first what?” asked Harry.

“Your first love, of course,” said Lily excitedly.

At this Harry sighed contentedly and smiled as he thought about the girl in question. “My first…my only,” he responded.

“Ooh,” replied Lily, beaming. “When did this happen? Are you going to ask her out?”

“Let’s see now,” said Harry, scratching his chin in thought. “It began in the beginning of fourth year, and I’ve asked her out…three hundred seventy-two times, unless I’m mistaken.”

Lily’s smile faltered. “She…she’s rejected you almost four hundred times?” she asked in disbelief. “Is she just not interested in you?”

Harry grinned at his mum. “Oh, she’s definitely interested in me. She’s just too stubborn and proud to admit it.”

“How can you be too proud to admit that you’re interested in someone?” asked Lily.

“Because I frequently tell her that she will fall in love with me some day,” replied Harry. “She’s not the type to admit that I’m right.”

Lily nodded in understanding at that. “That’s all very well, Harry, that you like this girl and all…but—”

“I love her, mum,” said Harry quickly and concretely, cutting his mum off and daring her to say otherwise. “And I know what you were going to say because I hear it ten times a day from Ron. I won’t move on…she’s the one meant for me, like you and dad were meant for each other.” His seriousness turned into lightheartedness as he smiled at Lily, who was regarding her son with mixed emotions. “I’m so close, mum. I guarantee you that by the end of the school year she and I will be together and you can meet her and embarrass me with stories of my childhood.”

Lily smiled—how could she not when Harry was so confident about this? And besides, James never gave up and look what happened. “Alright, you. Thanks for finally giving me the scoop on your love life.” She let Harry pass, but when he was at the bottom of the stairs, she said, “Oh, I almost forgot to ask. Can I know her name?”

“It’s Hermione…Hermione Granger,” Harry said before going upstairs to shower.

“Beautiful name” Lily said to herself as she headed back to the kitchen to finish making dinner. Then she stopped dead in her tracks.

Granger, that was the surname of the people they were about to meet. Lily had never learned their daughter’s name…she chuckled to herself, shook her head, and went back into the kitchen.

It was a weird coincidence, but there was no way it could be the same Grangers. These Grangers were muggles, after all.

***LFLS***

“Hermione, are you almost ready?” called Robert Granger from the bottom of the stairs as his wife Helen put on her coat.

Hermione arrived at the top of the stairs, looking to her parents for their opinion of her outfit. She was wearing dark blue jeans with a black shirt that said ‘Got Books?’ covered by a pink sweatshirt. “You look beautiful, honey,” said Helen.

“Thanks, mum,” said Hermione with a smile. Then that smile turned into a frown as she asked, “You’re absolutely sure I have to go?”

“Yes, dear,” replied her mum. “They’ll love you and they have a son who’s your age. We’ve seen a photo of him. He’s very handsome and looks very nice. You never know, you two might be able to…” Helen trailed off suggestively.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at her mother. “Mum, I’m not really interested at the moment. One, I have a lot of studying to do, and two, I told you that I’m going to the ball with a boy on Christmas. Isn’t that enough?”

“Oh, come on, Hermione,” said Robert. “You never know, you two may hit it off. Do it for us…please?”

Hermione shook her head slowly and sighed, but a small smile made its way onto her face. “Fine,” she said in acquiescence. “But I better get something in return for this tomorrow before the train ride.”

Helen pretended to think long and hard about it even though she had prepared a decent response beforehand. “Chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast?” she asked, being cruel by offering her daughter something she’d never be able to refuse.

And Hermione pretended to think about it even though she knew that was exactly what her mother was going to say. “Hmmm…deal,” she said before fully descending the stairs and heading to the garage with her parents.

Pretending to be interested in the dinner conversation instead of sitting in bed reading the new fantasy novel her parents had purchased for her was well worth a batch of delicious, home-made chocolate chip pancakes.

Or so she thought.

***LFLS***

Harry’s room had a window facing the street, and he looked up in interest from his homework as a car pulled up to the curb right in front of the house at exactly 6:45 p.m.

The two adults stepped out of the car, one from the front and one the back as a teenage girl stepped out of the driver’s seat. It was too dark outside to see what they looked like, but Harry already knew this girl would not be nearly as captivating or beautiful as Hermione.

Harry made his way downstairs and called, “They’re here!” loudly through the house.

“Can you grab the door, Harry?” asked Lily from the kitchen. “I’m the only one down here and your dad is still putting on his tie.”

“No problem,” said Harry just as the guests knocked.

He was at the door five seconds later, pulling it open with a smile on his face. He held out his hand to shake the man’s hand when he suddenly froze in place as he got a proper look at the girl. “H-Hermione?” he asked, thoroughly confused.

“Harry?” Hermione repeated, though with a ‘just-my-luck’ tone to it.

“What?” said Robert, looking at his daughter interestedly. “You know this young man, Hermione?”

“Of course I do,” she said, recovering and becoming her normal self again. “I’ve only been going to school with him for the past six years of my life.”

“Harry Potter,” Harry said helpfully, holding his hand out for Mr. Granger to shake. “Gryffindor house, Head Boy.”

“Oh,” said Helen as she accepted Harry’s hand next. “Not only that, but they’re the two head students together?” she asked as she looked at her husband with a glint in her eye.

“Please, come in,” said Harry politely, stepping aside. “The dining room is straight ahead. Dinner will be ready in about ten to fifteen minutes.”

Mr. and Mrs. Granger walked straight through to the dining room while Hermione stayed next to Harry, who shut the door and turned to face her. “What’s this all about?” she asked suspiciously.

Harry shook his head and shrugged. “I knew as much about this as you, apparently.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him, then quietly said, “I’m warning you now, Harry. You try anything tonight, I guarantee I’ll hex you into oblivion once we get on the train tomorrow.”

“Got it,” said Harry simply.

Hermione studied Harry’s face for a second, making sure he really ‘got it’. “Alright then…where’s Aurora?”

“Probably upstairs,” he said. “I’ll show you if you like.”

But that wouldn’t be necessary. “Hermione?” his sister asked as she stepped into the entrance hall.

“Aurora,” she responded, going and giving the younger girl a hug.

Harry slipped past them and into the kitchen as his shock dissipated. This was truly unbelievable.

“So, what do you think?” asked Lily.

“What do I think of what?” he asked absent-mindedly, still trying to comprehend the fact that Hermione was in his house.

“The girl, of course,” his mother said simply as she put the servings on the plates. “Is she cute?”

“Mum,” he said seriously, causing her to stop what she was doing and look up at her son. “The girl is Hermione.”

“Hermione?” asked Lily, confused for a second. Then it hit her. “The Hermione?” she asked in disbelief.

“She’s muggleborn,” said Harry in way of explanation. Then he rolled his eyes. “And yes, the Hermione.”

“We unknowingly invited over the girl you love?” asked Lily, who was quite obviously amused.

“Shh!” said Harry.

“What?” asked Lily, whose amusement was growing by the second. “Doesn’t she know already?”

“Yeah, but we don’t want Miranda skipping through the house singing about us sitting in a tree,” said Harry. “I highly doubt her parents know, and if they did…well, I’m not really sure what would happen.”

Lily just raised her eyebrows at her son but said nothing. She only asked, “Will you please help me with bringing these out?”

Harry took out his wand and levitated all the plates, raising an eyebrow at Lily. “Their daughter’s a witch, mum.”

“Right,” she said, shaking her head absent-mindedly.

She couldn’t wait to meet the young woman who had captured her son’s heart.

***LFLS***

“So, this is your house?” Hermione asked Aurora. “It’s really nice.”

“Thanks,” replied Aurora, glad that her best (and only) friend was with her at that moment. She couldn’t take five more minutes of Harry and Miranda running all over the pace and being loud. All she wanted to do (before Hermione came, at least) was read.

“Aurora,” said a small voice from the doorway. Miranda was terribly shy.

“Hey, there,” said Hermione in a friendly voice.

“Miranda, this is my friend Hermione,” said Aurora, gesturing for her sister to step forward. “Hermione, my sister Miranda.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Hermione, holding out her hand for the cute young girl to shake.

“Hi,” said Miranda quietly, not meeting Hermione’s eyes and barely grabbing her hand before pulling it back and turning to her sister. “Do you know where Harry is? He said we would have a snowball fight tonight!” she said excitedly.

Hermione almost laughed at the mental image. Harry, Harry who’s always an arrogant git, has snowball fights with his eight-year-old sister?

She envisioned (not that she had ever spent time envisioning it) Harry’s home life as him hanging out in his room all day boosting his ego or going out and hanging out with friends. She definitely did not see him as the type to entertain an eight-year-old. It just seemed so selfless and thoughtful and not at all something he could brag about to his friends or classmates.

Hermione was snapped out of her musings by Aurora answering her younger sister. “Sorry, Miranda, but dinner’s going to be ready in just a few minutes,” she said, making a sympathetic face. “You’ll have to ask mum and dad if it’s alright to go out after dinner.”

Miranda’s frown brightened into a smile. “I’ll go right now!” she said, her enthusiasm renewed, before dashing out of the room.

“She’s so cute,” said Hermione once it was just she and Aurora again.

“You say that now,” said Aurora, giving Hermione a grim look. “But when she and Harry are playing…let’s just say they’re at the same level in terms of maturity and energy.”

“Oh,” replied Hermione, envisioning Fred and George with about ten times the energy. “Sounds peaceful,” she said with a chuckle.

“You don’t even know,” said Aurora with wide eyes as she led Hermione to the dining room for dinner, where everyone but Lily and Harry were seated.

Harry came in levitating all the plates, making them set themselves gently in front of each person. James looked like he was about to have a heart attack—obviously no one had yet told him that Hermione was the Head Girl at Hogwarts. Nobody noticed James’s reaction except for Hermione, though. The only otherperson who probably would’ve noticed was his wife, but as soon as Lily entered the room her eyes met Hermione’s, scrutinizing her and attempting to judge whether or not she was worthy of her son’s heart.

Hermione, though she didn’t care whether or not Lily found her to be worthy of Harry’s heart, met Lily’s challenging stare head-on. She had never backed down from any challenge before, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to back down from her role model even if she did possess the most fiery, intelligent pair of eyes she had ever seen.

And without taking her eyes from Hermione’s, she sat down and said, “James, close your mouth before I have to demonstrate to all the kids here how to properly cast a lip-locking hex.”

James, sensing his wife’s odd mood and understanding the fact that everyone in the room seemed to know about magic, promptly closed his still-hanging-open mouth, cleared his throat, and cheerily said, “Well, then. This looks delicious. Shall we dig in?”

Lily didn’t answer immediately, instead seemingly taking her time in coming to a conclusion concerning Hermione. Hermione didn’t know exactly what test she was currently trying to pass, but she somehow did, for Lily gave her a genuine, heartfelt smile and said, “Sounds good, dear,” to her husband.

“So…” said James, still clueless about the identity of the Grangers’ daughter. “How do you three know about magic?”

“I’m the Head Girl at Hogwarts, Mr. Potter,” said Hermione quickly. “Hermione Granger.”

It was unfortunate that James had just taken a large bite of mashed potatoes, for he proceeded to choke on it and sends bits of it flying across the table, earning odd looks from Helen and Robert. Lily whipped out her wand and vanished the bits of flood arcing through the air before they could strike someone in the face, then used a liquidation charm to clear her husband’s airway.

James gave a significant look to his son even as everyone stared at him, and Harry gave only a miniscule nod in return. There was definitely an awkwardness settling over the table. They all sat looking at each other, some unsure what was going on and others knowing all too well what was going on.

That is…until Miranda anxiously asked, “Why isn’t anybody eating? I’m starving!”

Everyone laughed and began eating the delicious meal Lily cooked. The adults decided that since the kids knew each other, they could discuss business after dinner. Of course, Lily agreed on this point because she wanted to get to know her son’s love interest a little better.

“So, Hermione,” she said. “Do you know what you want to do yet when you graduate Hogwarts?”

“Yes,” replied Hermione, though a lot less confidently than normal and with a faint pink hue to her cheeks. “I want to be a healer…i-in your wing,” she admitted.

“Oh, wait,” said Lily thoughtfully, seeming to remember something. “Hermione Granger…the Hermione Granger who Madam Pomfrey speaks so highly of? The Hermione Granger who, without taking her NEWTs yet, has a recommendation to enter Healer’s school straight out of Hogwarts and has already submitted an application—one of the best and most well-written applications I’ve read in the past decade?”

The pink tinge turned into a full-on blush as her role model praised her. “Y-you read my application?” she asked in awe. The Grangers looked proud.

“I rarely read applications unless my subordinates believe one of them to be truly astounding,” explained Lily. “Let me put it this way: since receiving this post almost six years ago, yours is only the second application my subordinates have sent to me.”

“Oh wow,” said Robert.

“Good job, Hermione,” said Harry with a small smile.

“Er…thanks,” said Hermione, trying to be polite in return.

Aurora’s smile grew on her face as Harry’s dissipated.

The rest of dinner followed in much the same manner, a chain of one semi-awkward moment to the next.

After the excellent meal, all the kids but Harry and Miranda retreated upstairs while the adults poured themselves glasses of wine and began talking about business.

Harry and Miranda both donned their coats and headed to the spacious backyard, which Harry surrounded with a heating ward. Everything within its boundaries stayed at about room temperature, so they wouldn’t freeze to death.

Meanwhile, Hermione and Aurora ventured around the house, Aurora giving her friend a tour of her home. Having already seen the downstairs, Aurora took Hermione upstairs, starting off with her own room. “Wow,” commented Hermione. “You have almost as many books as I do.”

Next, Hermione got just a peek of Lily and James’s very well furnished master bedroom and saw the surprisingly spacious bathroom that Aurora shared with Miranda. Daniel and Aurora’s room came next, then they were back at Aurora’s room. “Wait,” said Hermione. “What about Harry’s room?”

She didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself, but Harry’s room was what she had been dying to see all along.

Aurora raised an eyebrow at Hermione, causing her cheeks to color a bit (for reasons she did not know) and her arms to fold defensively across her chest. “I…I-It’d be good to have some more dirt against him, that’s all,” she said to Aurora, feeling horrible for lying to her friend. She honestly didn’t know what she was looking for. Proof maybe? Proof that she had real reason to never date him in a million years? Proof that he wasn’t exactly a good person at heart (though she knew in her heart that that wasn’t true)? Or maybe (though she didn’t know it and would never, ever admit it to herself) proof that she liked him and would consider him dating material? Whatever the reason, she didn’t know, but she just had to see his room.

Aurora smiled at Hermione’s idea and said, “Sure, the only problem is…well, he has locking charms and intruder wards.”

“Doesn’t the house as an entity have those? Why would he need them in his own house?” asked Hermione.

Aurora shrugged and said, “I don’t know, but mum and dad said that a teenage boy needs his privacy and that he should practice the charms for when he moves out.”

“Hmmm…” said Hermione, thinking. First thing first, it would be best if they made sure he was occupied.

Hermione took a glance outside of Aurora’s window, which faced the backyard. It seemed the snowball fight was over and Harry had used magic to craft a little tea set, table, and chairs out of snow, which he charmed to resist the heating ward. Hermione had to stifle a laugh as she saw Harry sitting in a seat that was way too tiny for him, drinking hot cocoa in what looked to be a two-person tea party. Miranda looked to be incredibly happy, Harry much the same.

Speaking of Harry…Hermione looked at his body, which was clothed with jeans and a somewhat-tight T-shirt. She had never seen him without robes before and she hated to admit it, but he was hot. Incredibly fit from Quidditch, a broad jaw, and that messy, seemingly wind-blown hair gave Hermione the urge to pull him into a broom closet and snog him senseless. Not to mention the fact that it made him ten times cuter when he was doting on his youngest sister. Most seventeen-year-olds paid almost no attention to eight-year-old siblings let alone play outside with them every day they were off of school. It was a good thing Hermione wasn’t shallow, or Harry would’ve already been thoroughly sexually harassed.

“Are you going to stare at my brother all night or are we going over to his room?” asked Aurora teasingly.

Hermione quickly hopped up and followed her friend to Harry’s room door, which was just painted a solid white, giving her no insight there. She ran a couple tests on the door and found out what kind of ward was set up. Harry, like a lot of seventeen-year-old guys, only put about 50 percent of the possible effort he had into making it and thinking up something clever. All Hermione was left with was a simple password to speak—he hadn’t even modified the ward to listen to his voice only. “It needs a password,” Hermione informed Aurora.

“Oh, bollocks!” she said, thinking furiously. “Er…Quidditch!” she said quickly, saying the first thing that came to mind. “Snitch! Seeker!”

Hermione was thinking too, and she had a good idea what it was. Shutting her eyes, she whispered, “Hermione,” to the door and it opened noiselessly, allowing her and Aurora to trespass. Hermione’s heart warmed a little.

He had a very nice room painted in the same shade of green as his eyes that had a few pieces of what looked to be mahogany furniture. Aurora immediately went for his desk drawers for more dirt on him as Hermione looked around. She saw quite a few pictures of family but the one that really caught her eye was a picture of Harry and Miranda standing on the Eifel Tower, Harry on one knee and an arm around his sister’s shoulders. Actually, if she looked closely, every picture in the room had Miranda in it…he really loved her a lot.

“Oh, mum, come on, it’s only nine thirty!” came Harry’s voice from downstairs. “It’s Christmas eve…eve!” he said.

The sound came from the bottom of the stairs and Aurora gave Hermione an alarmed look, shoving one of the desk drawers back closed. There was a thump and a shuffle, and Hermione’s heart started pumping loudly in fear of being caught in his room. She’d never hear the end of it. But there was one thing she couldn’t resist. There was a drawer marked ‘Top Secret’, and Hermione quickly magically made copies of all the papers in there. For some reason, she felt oddly drawn to the pieces of paper in there. The stack felt lighter than she expected.

She quickly got out of the room and relocked and warded it, leaving it just the way she had found it.

“Fine, mum…I’ll put her to bed,” said Harry morosely.

Hermione stepped back into Aurora’s room just as a defeated-looking Miranda with Harry in tow made it to the top of the stairs. Harry was so sad he didn’t even glance at Hermione as he passed her. Hermione quickly gave Aurora the excuse that she was using the restroom and quietly followed Harry and Miranda to her room, silently laughing as Harry tickled her and got her ready for bed, telling her a humorous story about the antics he and Ron had gotten into at school when they were younger, feeding the flame in his sister that desperately wanted to be attending Hogwarts right at that moment.

She couldn’t believe how sweet and thoughtful he was, even trying to argue with his mum to get her bedtime extended a little so he could spend more time with her.

Miranda fell asleep even though she was trying so hard to keep her eyes open after the story ended, and Harry gently kissed her forehead before tucking her in properly. And Hermione’s heart melted.

That was her dream man. A tender, sweet, loving man who wasn’t afraid of a fiery woman and would care deeply for their children and be good with them. If Harry had always been like this, Hermione would’ve said yes to a date right from the get-go. If Harry could change himself so he was always like this, Hermione would have no problem saying yes in the near-future. It was a pity, really…reality.

Hermione went back into Aurora’s room with a dreamy smile on her face, and Aurora had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. For all the times Hermione said she disliked Harry, she sure seemed to act like a lovesick puppy quite a bit.

Hermione couldn’t help but let her mind wander to Harry throughout the night, wondering what he was doing (and if he looked good while doing it…though she wouldn’t have admitted it).

Good thing they were going back to Hogwarts tomorrow…it seemed as though she was in desperate need of a distraction.

A/N: The first half was just how I wanted it…not so sure about the second half, but…eh.

I hope you enjoyed it and please review!

A/N: I love all of your reviews so much! Please keep it up, they’re the fuel for my writing fire!

“No matter how many times I get hurt because of you, I won't leave you. Because even if I have a hundred reasons to leave you, I'll look for that one reason to fight for you.”
-Anonymous

Chapter Ten – Tears and Fears and a Fight

Harry whistled as he packed up to head back to Hogwarts. He opened up his top secret drawer to grab the papers so he could put them in his bag. They would end up in a similar drawer in the desk in his room. He froze as a breach indicator went off when his hand passed the ward covering the drawer.

Someone had been in it.

He didn’t know how and he didn’t know when (having not opened it the whole time since coming home for the holidays), but someone had gotten in. He frantically flipped through the papers, making sure they were all still there. They were all either vital for his future happiness (having spent hours thinking what he should put on them) or very important and special to him.

Who could’ve possibly gotten in?

Everything clicked immediately. Who was the person who didn’t have (possible) access to his room until last night, was of age and could therefore do magic, and would be curious (and bold) enough to go through his things?

His mum, of course. She finally found out what his password was after weaseling the name of the love of his life out of him! And she said that teenagers deserve their privacy, but honestly, what mother could resist opening a drawer in her son’s room marked ‘TOP SECRET’? Harry shook his head with a small smile on his face because quite honestly, he had been expecting that to happen. And he was alright with his mum seeing it as long as she didn’t take anything. Actually, the drawer itself should’ve read ‘TOP SECRET FROM HERMIONE GRANGER’. Because if she somehow ever got into it and saw the contents, he might actually be truly angry at her for the first time in his life.

“Harry!” called James from downstairs. “Aurora! You guys ready to go?”

“Coming!” they called back simultaneously. Harry put the papers in his trunk, closed the lid, grabbed Hedwig, and headed downstairs, where the rest of the family was waiting to apparate to King’s Cross. Miranda was already crying, and detached herself from their mum’s leg to go hug Harry hard. Harry smiled and sighed at the same time before apparating right onto Platform 9¾, his family arriving right beside him.

He hugged Miranda and told her to be good before asking her to let go because he had to leave. Things turned ugly when she refused to let go and Lily had to use a muscle-relaxing and soothing charm to pry her off. He hugged Daniel and his Father before asking his mother if he could have a word with her. They stepped aside and his mum (being a mum) immediately asked, “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” said Harry, a grin on his face. “Just wondering if you knew I had a detection ward on my ‘TOP SECRET’ drawer.”

“What drawer?” Lily asked in return, confused.

“Oh, feigning ignorance?” he asked. Then he shrugged. “I don’t really care that you saw it though.” He gave her a hug before she could form her confused thoughts into words. “Bye mum. See you at graduation.”

It wasn’t until he was on the train that she absentmindedly muttered, “Yeah. See you at your graduation.”

***LFLS***

After arriving back at school, most of Harry’s day was spent setting the Great Hall up for the ball taking place the following day. Dinner that night was eaten in the individual common rooms, Dumbledore wanting the students attending said Ball to be amazed and surprised. After dinner, Harry made sure his muggle suit was hanging up properly (just because he was going stag didn’t mean he didn’t want to look good…) before checking how his breath smelled and heading out for his midnight patrol with Hermione.

But when he got out Hermione was slouched in a chair, eyes closed and open book perched precariously on her lap. She had a hint of a smile on her face and muttered something that sounded a bit like his name as she shifted around a little.

Harry took a good look at her before heading out of the common room to patrol on his own. There was just no way Harry could bring himself to wake her up—she just looked so peaceful and content. And not to mention the fact that she needed all the sleep that she could get now that it was the other side of Winter Break. NEWTs were approaching fast and Harry had no doubt in his mind that Hermione would be getting an inadequate amount of sleep due to excessive studying for the next six months.

He was just doing one quick sweep of the castle anyway considering the fact that only about half of the students were currently in the castle. There was really nothing interesting to speak for most of the patrol until he passed the girls’ prefects’ bathroom that was closest to Gryffindor Tower, where he heard the sound of a girl crying…bawling, really.

He stopped at the door, intrigued. He was supposed to notify the headmistress and give multiple detentions to whoever was out of bed after curfew, but he figured if a girl just wanted to get away from everyone to cry that she should be able to. He decided he would be a gentleman and wait for the girl to finish crying to escort her back to the common room, so he sat down next to the door and got ready to wait for a little while.

He had only been sitting there for a short time, though, when a sudden thought hit him.

This crying sounds awfully familiar.

The last time he had heard crying identical to this was when he was fourteen. Aurora had been riding their dad’s broom to try to get the hang of flying when she had fallen off and broken her leg.

“Aurora?” Harry asked himself slowly before bolting up to his feet and barging into the bathroom.

There was a hunched (and fully clothed except for the feet) figure sitting at the edge of the full, giant bath, feet in the water, shoulders shaking with each sob. She hadn’t even looked up when he barged in, yet he could still recognize his sister’s profile.

Without even thinking twice, Harry slipped off his shoes and socks and sat next to his sister. She looked over at him in shock, her tears stopping for just a moment. “What are you doing here?” she asked with a hoarse voice. “This is a girl’s bathroom.”

“I could ask you the same,” he said quietly, but with no maliciousness. “This is a prefect’s bathroom.”

“Hermione gave me the password,” she replied. “Said I was going to be a prefect next year anyway.”

They fell into silence after that, Aurora looking miserable and Harry not knowing how to comfort her. He finally just resorted to asking, “What happened?”

With that, Aurora’s bottom lip started trembling before she burst into tears again. Harry tentatively reached over and rubbed her back a little awkwardly. Aurora immediately threw her arms around him and cried into his shoulder, staining his shirt with her salty tears. Harry hugged her back, holding her tight. Despite their differences and how they acted toward each other, Harry loved his little sister and knew she loved him. Plus, he was an older brother, which meant that he was supposed to help and protect his younger siblings, and his sister was obviously distressed.

He held her and let cry until she was completely out of tears, only reduced to shuddering breaths. She pulled back and wiped her eyes with her hands, sniffling. “Sorry,” she said shakily.

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I don’t mind.”

“I feel like such a fool for crying,” she said after that, revealing more vulnerability to Harry.

Harry sighed and adjusted his sitting position a bit so he could be more comfortable. He opened his mouth a few times to say something, only to close when he realized it wasn’t the message he wanted to convey. He finally said, “Never be ashamed to cry. Tears…they’re meant to cleanse the soul. They may not change whatever situation you’re in, but they really do help.”

Aurora gave him a watery smile. “You’re right,” she said. “Thanks, Harry.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while after that, just listening to the gentle sounds of the bathwater lapping against the walls of the tub. Even with so little speaking, they had definitely bonded a little more just now and Harry was happy for it. He glanced over at his sister repeatedly and noticed that she was maybe the saddest he had ever seen her, her shoulders hunched, a frown on her face, and eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she stared pensively down at the water. Harry hated to see her like that—he wished he could just take the brunt of the emotional pain for her.

“Why…” she began, then seemed to change her mind.

Harry knew what she was going to ask, of course. And he had no problem answering her. “Because I love you,” he said honestly.

Aurora slowly looked up at him, vulnerability shining like beacons through her eyes. Depending on the answer to her next question, Harry knew that he could make or break her. “Really?” she asked defensively. “Because all you seem to like to do to me is tease and prank me.”

Harry looked down at his lap in shame, unable to meet his sister’s eyes. He softly said, “I know…I-I’m not the best older brother to you and it’s fun to tease you and all that, but…you’re my sister. You’re a good person, a sweet girl. You deserve better than me as a brother.” Aurora made a move to say something—probably correct that last statement, but Harry wouldn’t have it. “It’s true, and I really do feel bad for it. This thing with Hermione—I know you don’t want me bothering her or anything, and I understand. I’ve been an arrogant, selfish prat. But even if she never returns my feelings, she’s already made me a better person. I can see now how I was, and how I could be. And I realize I want to be the ‘how I could be’ person. So I’m going to say this. I’m sorry, Aurora, I’m so sorry. I should’ve been a better older brother, paid more attention to you. I should’ve always been there for you. I can’t change the past, but I can change myself for a better future and a better relationship with you. Because despite everything that’s happened, I love you. I love who you are as a person, and I love the person I know you’ll grow up to be.”

Aurora’s mouth slowly turned up into a radiant smile and she hugged him, crying onto his shoulder again. “Oh, geez,” he said, a little embarrassed. “Please tell me those are happy tears.”

“Of course they are, you prat,” said Aurora, detaching herself from him again. Then she got more serious and with a small smile said, “I love you too, you know. And…” she said, starting to blush. “I’ve always wanted to hear you say you loved me too.”

Harry’s heart clenched painfully in his chest and his eyes got a little moist as he realized just how bad of a brother he’d been to have never told his sister he loved her. “So…” he began, clearing his throat unnecessarily. “Why are you crying in here?” he asked.

For a second Aurora looked like she was going to break down again, but collected herself at the last second. “Well…Andrew broke up with me.”

Harry’s eye twitched. “What?” he asked. “You had a boyfriend? You’re barely even fifteen years old, and if this is the Andrew I think you’re talking about, he’s a year above and a year older than you!”

Aurora adopted her stern look, daring him to try to parent her again. “Just because you’ve never been in a relationship doesn’t mean I can’t. The reason I didn’t tell you was because I thought it would result in more teasing. But long story short, we had been going out for six months and he broke up with me after we got off the train.”

“Why?” he asked, wanting even more reason to pummel Andrew to bits for hurting his sister.

“Because I wouldn’t have sex with him,” she said, being straightforward.

Harry’s heart swelled with pride that she had made the right decision while his murderous intent towards Andrew simultaneously expanded. Harry was taking short breaths, beginning to hyperventilate out of rage. He held it back though, bottling it so it could be released on the perpetrator. “Well…I’m glad you made the right decision,” said Harry.

“Was it the right decision, though?” asked Aurora. “It only resulted in a lot of pain for me.”

“Of course it was the right decision,” said Harry adamantly. “You’re so young. Save yourself for someone you’re truly in love with. That way your first time will be special and you’ll always remember it as something good. Not to mention the fact that you don’t learn the contraceptive spell until seventh year. Imagine what would’ve happened if you would’ve gotten pregnant!”

“You’re right,” she said. Then quickly added, “Not that I didn’t know the contraceptive spell, of course. But you were right about the being in love thing. I wasn’t even close to being at that stage with Andrew.”

“You realize he’s going to die, right?” asked Harry, a maniacal grin on his face.

Aurora laughed. “I don’t want you to go to Azkaban or be expelled, so could you just limit it to a thorough beating?” she asked humorously.

Harry gave a dramatic sigh. “If that’s what you want, I guess so…”

“Harry?” said Aurora a bit hesitantly.

“Yeah?” he asked in return.

“I-I’m sorry for making it so hard for you with Hermione,” she said.

“It’s alright,” he said. “It was just your easiest way to get back at me.”

“For the record, though,” she said. “I think she’s in love with you. She’s just in denial.”

Harry thought long and hard about what his sister said before shaking his head. “I don’t think she’s in love with me. I think she’s in love with the person I could be…the person I’m trying to be. I know she’s flattered that someone’s so infatuated with her, she’s just disappointed that it’s not her dream guy,” he said thoughtfully and honestly.

“You are her dream guy,” said Aurora. “You changed your personality to match her fantasy. She just hasn’t noticed yet. And when you’re sweet and caring, she gets the look on her face that you always get whenever you look at or talk about her. You’re almost there.”

“Hopefully,” said Harry. “She can be so stubborn sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” said Aurora with mirth in her voice. “She’s even more stubborn than I am.”

Silence fell over them once again before Aurora sighed and said, “I wish I could’ve worn that dress, though.”

“What dress?” asked Harry.

“Oh, the dress mum bought me for the ball tomorrow night,” she said morosely.

“You mean…you’re not going?” asked Harry, shocked. She had been excited to go since it had first been announced.

“I would love to go, but…now that I have no date…” she trailed off.

“That’s no reason not to go!” Harry said with a fiery determination. “That’s playing exactly into Andrew’s hands! It shows that you’re weak, and I know for a fact that you are a strong, independent young woman.”

“I know that,” she said with little conviction and a small smile on her face. “But I’m Aurora Potter, not Harry Potter. I’m not cool enough to go to a party without a date, especially when my only friend is going to be with one.”

“Well, you know, if you still wanted to go, you could always go with me,” Harry said.

Aurora looked at him weird. “You’re my brother…” she said slowly.

“Just because you go to a dance with someone doesn’t have to mean you’re on a date with them,” said Harry.

“I’ll just cramp your style,” said Aurora sadly.

“Aurora,” said Harry. “It’s my ‘style’ that I’m trying to get rid of anyway. Besides, I’m sure if you’re seen with me you’ll be asked to dance in no time.”

Aurora gave him a watery smile. “You’re sure I can go with you?”

“Absolutely,” Harry replied.

The two sat there for a while more, bonding as siblings until Harry decided they should go to bed to be ready for their big day.

The next morning Harry woke up a little later than normal, having gone to bed at 2:30 in the morning the previous night. He groaned out loud at the prospect of spending another day setting up the Great Hall to perfection. Nevertheless, he groggily pulled himself out of his bed and tried to pull on his robe backwards for a good five minutes before he realized what went wrong.

He shook his head and decided to try and open the door with his face instead of his hand. It didn’t work that well.

“Son of a—” the sound of his foot connecting with his door and sending it flying open drowned out the last word.

“What did that door ever do to you?” asked Hermione haughtily, reading a book in her armchair.

“It popped out of bloody nowhere and decided to hit me in the face, that’s what it did,” said Harry, maybe a just a touch grumpy.

“Well,” said Hermione coolly. “Now that you’ve made your grand entrance, we can join the prefects in the Great Hall.”

“Why aren’t you down there already?” asked Harry, confusion replacing his anger. If he had had to put his money on anyone being the first person decorating in the morning it would’ve been her.

He might have been mistaken, but he could’ve sworn her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. “Wouldn’t want you to look bad, would we? We are stronger as one unit, not two.”

Harry was secretly thrilled that she said that but decided to hold it in for the sake of not looking like an overzealous git. They exited the portrait hall and Harry thought things couldn’t get better…until they got bad. “Why didn’t you wake me up to go patrolling last night?” Hermione demanded with a stern, no-nonsense tone.

Ah…the real reason she had waited for him. “I thought I could handle it alone last night since you were already asleep. Only half of us are even here, you know. Why does it make you so angry that I was trying to be nice?”

“They’re my duties also,” she said quickly. “They shouldn’t be neglected just because I’ve fallen asleep.”

That wasn’t the real reason why she was angry, but Harry thankfully bought it. If she was to be honest with herself, she didn’t really know why she was angry. The duties part did comprise at least a small portion of her anger, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on the real reason. It was also the real reason why she waited for him. For some weird reason she felt that being around Harry was the place to be at the moment, and it perplexed her as to why that was so.

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up then,” said Harry, surreptitiously rolling his eyes.Women, especially Hermione, would always confuse him.

Hermione didn’t miss the sarcasm but decided not to comment on it, having more pressing matters at hand. Namely, the appearance of a certain fifth-year boy who had dumped her best friend last night. She took a deep breath and was about to yell at him to come over to her when Harry touched her shoulder, non-verbally telling her that he would handle this. She looked up to him and felt unexplained anxiousness and fear grip her body. His glare alone could’ve matched that of a basilisk’s at that point in time, his green eyes smoldering. What he did next surprised Hermione. He put his arms out and greeted Andrew like an old friend.

“Andrew, my man!” he called, and the boy looked over at him, confused. They had probably never spoken a word to each other in their lives. “Can I talk to you really quickly? I have a favor to ask you,” he said, much too sweetly Hermione noticed.

She his hands curl into fists as the boy approached and immediately knew what was going to happen next…and she found that she wasn’t in any particular mood to stop it.

As Andrew got close to Harry the older boy’s fist cocked back, ready to deliver a haymaker. Andrew’s nervous smile was replaced by a look of horror milliseconds before Harry’s fist met his jaw with a pop, sending him to the ground in a daze. “Get up, you,” said Harry savagely. “I’m not done with you yet. You think you’re a man for being able to break my sister’s heart just because she wouldn’t put out? Let’s see how much of a man you are when faced with a real test.” Harry put up his fists in a fighting posture.

“What the hell?!” shrieked Andrew. “You crazy bastard!” When he noticed his shouting was having no effect on the Head Boy, he turned to the Head Girl. “You’re not just going to stand there and let this happen, are you?”

Hermione looked down on him with the most contempt she could muster. “She’s my best friend. I’m going to stand here and let it happen.”

By now, a small group had gathered around the three, chanting “Fight! Fight!” Hermione cast a silencing charm around the edges of the crowd, stopping all sound from exiting the premises and reaching the teachers’ ears.

Andrew tried to back out in fright, the piss stain growing on the front of his trousers, but the crowd pushed him back in the circle, the chanting growing louder. Harry cracked his knuckles loudly and closed in on the younger boy, who had a weak defense up. Harry’s fist slammed through the gap in between Andrew’s raised fist and connected with his chin in a devastating uppercut that lifted him off his feet.

Andrew landed on the floor and there was suddenly an adult holding Harry back with quite a bit of trouble. It was Professor Lupin. “Harry, stop! I don’t want to have to suspend you!”

“Remus, let go of me!” Harry snarled. “He broke up with Rory because she wouldn’t have sex with him!”

Lupin, who saw and treated Aurora as a niece, let go of Harry with a disgusted look on his face and gave him a quick, encouraging nod before exiting the crowd in the direction of the Headmaster’s office. Andrew staggered to his feet and spit out a mouthful of blood, his eyes out of focus. He took a wild swing that miraculously connected with Harry’s side, doing no damage to him whatsoever. Harry picked Andrew up by the collar of his shirt and the crowd parted so he could slam him into the wall and hold him there. Harry screamed in his face, “Don’t you ever, EVER go near my sister for the rest of your pathetic, miserable life!”

Andrew slowly nodded, his eyes wide with fear, and Harry looked over at Hermione, breathing hard. “Anything you want to do to the bastard?” he asked her.

Hermione looked at him thankfully and slapped Andrew hard across the face, leaving a red handprint. Harry then threw Andrew a good seven feet through the air before the thoroughly beaten young man hit the ground hard and slid another few feet, staying down on the ground for good this time. Harry sneered and snorted in contempt before pushing his way through the cheering crowd while taking out his wand to Scourgify the blood off of his hands.

Hermione grabbed his wrist, stopping him from doing so. She said, “I have to heal it. There’s no way you can punch someone that hard and not bruise your knuckles.”

“I doesn’t hurt,” Harry lied as the pain began to set in.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him skeptically, which prompted him to raise his hands in her direction. She cleaned the blood off and healed the bruises, relieving the pain immediately. She grabbed both of his hands and tenderly skimmed her thumbs over his until-recently bruised knuckles, not looking away from his eyes. “All better?” she asked softly and more than a little absentmindedly.

“Yeah,” he said back just as softly, not releasing her intense gaze. “Thanks.”

For some reason, Hermione’s face seemed to be getting closer to his, her eyes starting to drift closed. And Harry seized up, his eyes going wide. He pulled back, gently pushing Hermione’s shoulders away from him. “Wait, this is wrong,” he said breathily with little conviction, trying to compose himself.

“But Harry,” she said alluringly, still trying to lean in.

“No, Hermione,” he said strongly. “Stop it.”

Hermione snapped out of her trance, blushing madly all the way to the roots of her hair. “Oh, Merlin,” she said. “I-I have to go…right now,” she said before fleeing in the direction of the Great Hall.

And Harry smiled a tired smile. He didn’t regret his decision to stop her one bit. Because he knew more about her than she did at the moment. She was confused, and in denial, and attracted to his physical features. That almost-kiss would’ve been a heat of the moment kiss more than anything else.

And Hermione would’ve realized what she had done and hated not only herself for it, but unfairly blamed him for it for whatever reason she could find. And they would be set back even farther than before, with Hermione probably ignoring him and seeing him as an egotistical prat who somehow manipulated her into kissing him. Denial was a terrible thing, sending even the smartest and nicest of people into a whirlwind of confusion and behavior that just didn’t suit them.

The other reason why he said no was that Hermione wasn’t in love with him yet. He wanted them to be in love with each other when they kissed for the first time.

Harry could tell that Hermione was on the fence when it came to matters concerning him. On the one hand, she loved the sweeter side of him that had only been around for a month. On the other hand, she hated the arrogant side of him that she had known for six and a half years. And finally, it would take something drastic to overcome her stubbornness enough to have her admit to him that he was right all along.

He just didn’t want anybody doing anything that would destroy what he had been carefully constructing for the past month.

Because it wasn’t worth one kiss if said kiss made her realization of love happen so much later than it could’ve been had the kiss not happened.

***LFLS***

Hermione was holding back tears as best she could as she briskly walked towards the Great Hall. I’m not in love with Harry, I’m not in love with Harry, she kept telling herself.

You say that, yet you can’t resist being around him and constantly go out of your way just to get a glimpse of him. Your heart beats faster when he’s near and a smile appears on your face. You hope he’ll look at you first when he enters a room, and—“Shut up!” she shouted at her mind with a hysterical edge to her voice.

It was impossible, the ever-arrogant Harry Potter was never right about anything! There was no way she was in love with him! She didn’t even like him enough to consider befriending him!

Harry had always been an arrogant prat and one month of good behavior wasn’t going to change it. There was no way she was going to fall for it and go out with him and have her heart broken when she realized it was all an act to finally date her.

No, why would my heart break? she thought. That would imply that I had been in love with him!

Hermione was very glad Harry had shown some maturity and stopped the kiss. She would’ve hated herself twice over—once for kissing him and the other for causing him the pain of knowing that the kiss wasn’t an ‘I love you’ kiss. No matter how she felt towards him, she didn’t want to break his heart by getting his hopes up and crushing them immediately afterwards. That just seemed cruel.

Hermione finally arrived at the Great Hall and was grateful for the upcoming distraction.

***LFLS***

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was humming a merry tune as he walked toward the site of what Professor Lupin had told him was a boy who had had the crap beaten out of him by the Head Boy. Professor Lupin had also given him Harry’s reason for deciding to take the boy’s punishment into his own hands.

“Andrew Williams,” he said as he found a boy with a bloody and battered face lying down on the floor of the second story of the castle. “Do you care to kindly inform me what happened here?”

“Nothing,” grunted the boy, obviously in pain. “My own fault. Tripped and fell down the stairs. Do you mind getting me some medical attention?”

Professor Dumbledore looked down at the boy before sending his patronus to Madam Pomfrey, informing her that there was an injured student in the castle, before continuing to walk through the halls while whistling his merry tune.

It was a shame for the boy that he had tripped and fell down the stairs. Self-inflicted injuries were the worst.

It must’ve been painful.

***LFLS***

Hermione had composed herself before entering the Great Hall and was working like a madwoman by the time Harry had shown up. She had decided to not bring up the almost-kiss and act no differently toward Harry.

She went up to the Head Boy and curiously asked, “How did you know that not only was Andrew your sister’s girlfriend, but that he had broken up with her for that specific reason?”

“Oh, she and I shared a little bonding moment last night and she told me everything,” said Harry pleasantly.

“Oh,” said Hermione , not completely understanding what he was saying. “That’s nice.”

An awkward silence fell over the two before Harry said, “Er…we better get to work.”

Hermione agreed and they headed to opposite sides of the Great Hall, throwing surreptitious glances toward each other throughout the day, wishing to be closer.

They worked hard and fast and finished the hall with a good two hours left until the start of the ball, the Great Hall looking more and more amazing as the enchanted ceiling got darker and darker.

Of course, all the girls were freaking out that there were only two hours left until the start of the Ball while the guys snickered at their antics, earning them punches to the arm.

Harry went upstairs and started getting ready with an hour left so he could be sure he’d be ready by the time his sister was. And as the time got closer and closer, Harry could feel some foreign, ancient magic crackling through the air.

The outcome of this ball was going to be life-altering, there was absolutely no doubt in Harry’s mind about that.

It was a good thing he was wearing his lucky underwear.

A/N: I know that last sentence was totally lame and cheesy, but I’ve always wanted to use it and that seemed to be the perfect time!

And yes, I know that the previous chapter was longer! That just had to do with where the chapter naturally flowed to a stop in my opinion. This chapter just naturally stopped at an earlier point (length-wise) than the previous one was.

Thanks for reading and I hope you take time to please review!

A/N: Woohoo! Story time!

Please enjoy!

"Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies."
-Aristotle

Chapter 11 - Revelations

Harry and Aurora stepped into the Great Hall along with Ron and Lavender almost fifteen minutes after the ball had started. The three who weren’t Harry all gasped and made amazed sounds, having not seen the decorations yet (Harry, on the other hand, was sick of seeing the bloody decorations). It was beautiful, with the trees decorated and lit up, floating holly and mistletoe, and a perfect, cloudless night decorating the enchanted ceiling.

The ball was in full swing, though Harry wouldn’t have particularly called it a ball based on what he was seeing. There were almost no ball gowns on the ladies and no dancing suitable for a ball. Instead, it looked to be just another dance like the ones Harry’s middle school used to hold, with a mass of sweaty bodies ‘dancing’ very suggestively. However, the music was a kind of medium tempo that you could either dance to or…‘dance’ to. The music was being put on by a DJ, his head moving in time with the beat. There were a few couples actually dancing the way they should’ve been dancing at a ball, but for the most part it seemed to have just turned into another ‘school dance’.

Ron and Lavender immediately packed in with the ‘dancing’ folk and began grinding against each other with little restraint, basically dry humping. Harry, after making a disgusted face, decided instead to look at the couples who seemed to be able to resist their raging hormones for more than five minutes to share an intimate dance with their date. Luna and Neville were dancing, Neville looking nervous and continuously stepping on Luna’s feet as she just smiled up at him, obviously having a good time. She caught Harry’s eye and gave him a quick wave before returning her attention to Neville.

Just as Harry caught sight of Hermione and Terry slow-dancing, Aurora grabbed his hand and started dragging him towards them in a manner very similar to that of Miranda. “Let’s say hi to Hermione,” she said as she drew close to them. Then she suddenly stopped. “Holy crap, Harry. I’ll be right back,” she said as she realized that Andrew, his face only partially healed, was dancing with a girl right next to them.

Before Harry could tell his sister not to worry and to stay strong, she had disappeared in the mass of people. Harry sighed and turned back to look at Hermione and Terry, where something very…infuriating, was taking place.

***LFLS***

Hermione couldn’t even force a smile onto her face at this point. Terry was so boring and had actually turned out to be quite a bit bolder than he had always seemed, frequently trying to grope Hermione’s bum. She wished she wouldn’t have asked him just to piss Harry off…it only seemed to have backfired on her.

“Terry, stop it this instant,” she said, feeling her eye beginning to twitch out of a combination of annoyance and anger.

“Ooh, feisty are we, Hermione?” he asked, this time going a step further and cupping her left breast through her dress.

Hermione’s hand shot up and slapped Terry hard across the face, sending him reeling. He sneered and stepped in close to her, wrapping one arm around her and holding her close, the other hand going for her chest again. He obviously thought nobody would notice with all the people around them being otherwise occupied, and he unfortunately seemed to have thought correctly. She was pushing him with all her might trying to get away from him. If only he wasn’t crushing her to him, she could grab her wand from her thigh holster. “Terry…get…off!” she yelled, pushing against him in vain.

“Come on, Hermione” he said, obviously very randy. “You know you want me.”

“Oh dear Merlin,” said Hermione with exasperation, appalled at the thought processes of young men. Just because she asked him to the ball didn’t mean she was going to hop in the sack with him. Honestly!

Terry’s hand was only an inch from Hermione’s breast when another hand shot in and caught his wrist, squeezing it to the point of crushing it. Hermione looked at the face of her savior and actually wasn’t surprised that it was Harry, his face looking absolutely murderous. “I’m pretty sure she asked you to let go,” he said dangerously low, his voice grating against Terry’s most primal fears and sending a shiver—a bad shiver—down Hermione’s spine. He was seriously scary when he was truly pissed off.

“Letting go,” said Terry nervously, releasing Hermione.

“Now get the hell out of here before I tell Professor Dumbledore what you’ve done,” said Harry, giving Terry’s wrist one last, extra-painful squeeze before letting go. Terry didn’t escape Harry’s murderous glare until he exited the Great Hall as fast as he could.

“Thanks, Harry,” said Hermione gratefully as she massaged her upper arm, which was where Terry had been gripping her painfully hard.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, admiring Hermione in her periwinkle blue dress, her hair pulled back into an elegant knot. “Don’t think that all guys are like that, either, because we’re not.”

“Oh, so only most of you are,” she said, admiring Harry in his tux.

“I’m not,” he said.

“You used to be,” she shot back.

“But I’m not anymore,” he replied with a small smile.

Suddenly, and without reason, Hermione felt the compelling urge to ask this young man in front of her to dance. It confused her, because she had never really liked him at all before. Yet here she was, standing in front of him and suddenly blurting, “Would you like to dance?”

Harry gave her a sad smile and said apologetically, “Sorry, but I promised the first dance to my date. How about right after that?”

Hermione quietly said, “Sure,” not even knowing what she was agreeing to. After he had said the word ‘date’ her mind had shut down, her throat had constricted, her eyes got moist, and her heart had clenched painfully in her chest…and she didn’t have any clue as to why, either.

“Hermione?” Harry asked with a worried look on his face. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she nodded absentmindedly, trying to clear her head. “I’m just going to sit down for a second.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, still furrowing his eyebrows at her. “I’ll be back.”

Hermione nodded once more and headed over to one of the tables laden with food, her heart physically hurting. Heart pain, she thought to herself, what could that possibly mean? I really doubt I’m having a heart attack, and I’m pretty sure the pain’s supposed to be in the left arm for that one. I didn’t accidentally swallow bubotuber pus…hmmm. Then she realized that it was a different kind of pain…an aching longing was plaguing her, and it had happened right after…Harry had said…’date’.

Not this again! she scolded herself, a hint of desperation creeping into the voice of her mind. There is absolutely no way you even remotely like Harry Bloody Potter, not even as a friend. Never, ever, ever, not in a million years will you ever fall in love with him!

Somehow her eyes naturally found him with little effort, like she had known where he had been all along. And what she saw shocked and amazed her. Harry was pulling Aurora along in a fast tango (or what Hermione thought was supposed to be a tango…Harry was a horrible dancer), and her best friend was laughing as Harry pretty much dragged her with the most deadly serious look on his face, though she could tell he was having trouble keeping it that way. Hermione found herself smiling as she watched the two siblings. Harry finally burst out laughing and slowed the dance down, but with wildly exaggerated movements. After a while the song came to a stop and so did their dance, Harry ending with a flourishing bow. He then said something to Aurora that made her giggle again. Then he gave a little motion with his head towards Hermione and caught her eye for just a second. The way he looked at her sent a shiver—this time a pleasantly delicious shiver—up her spine.

And that’s when it all clicked. Why her heart felt so warm when he came to her rescue. Why her heart seemed to shatter when she learned he had a date. Why she was so happy when she then learned he was just being a good brother, escorting his downtrodden younger sister to a dance she had been excited about for weeks but wouldn’t have attended otherwise. Why her heart was beating faster and her face was heating up as he and Aurora got closer to her. Why she smiled back when he gave her a lopsided one, an eyebrow raised.

I’m in love with Harry James Potter, former world-class-prat! she thought to herself but then found she wasn’t so disturbed by the thought. What did disturb her was the fact that she had been wrong the whole time. I can’t believe it! I’m in love, younger than expected and with a guy I would have never expected!...What do I do?

“Dance, milady?” he asked her with a posh accent, holding out his arm.

Any other day, Hermione would’ve slapped the piss out of him. But…eh, love just changes some people’s attitudes towards others.

Instead, she accidentally let a giggle slip out before freezing in mortification. She, Hermione Jane Granger, hadn’t giggled since she was four years old. And now here she was acting like some lovesick fool. Oh wait…I am a lovesick fool, aren’t I? she thought, her brain not exactly firing on all pistons at the moment given the situation.

Harry was looking at her like she was crazy and getting that worried look on his face while Aurora just raised an eyebrow that told Hermione she knew exactly what was going on. Hermione finally collected herself and her thoughts, recovering nicely from a life-altering revelation. “I hope you don’t mind if I steal your date for a dance?” she asked Aurora playfully.

“Just watch out for his clumsy feet,” Aurora responded in return, plunking down in the seat next to Hermione.

The older girl smiled at the younger before taking Harry’s arm and letting him lead her to the dance floor—which was just any empty floor space in the Great Hall. It seemed he was taking this dance seriously, though, for he put both hands on her waist and started swaying back and forth, looking at her with eyes that burned with a possessive fire. Hermione basked in their warmth and her skin tingled where his hands were resting.

As they moved closer together while dancing, she realized why she really fell in love with this man. Learning how to not be a prat around her was really only one small component of it all. He was a good person at heart, fiercely loving and protecting those close to him with his entire heart, and had been interested in who she was as a person, not another pair of legs to spread like most of their male classmates had been thinking.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly, causing the corners of her lips to curve up in a smile.

“You really think so?” she asked back, insecure.

“Yeah, but…” he said, raising one of his hands up to the back of her head and pulling her hair out of its knot, letting it fall naturally. “There,” he said.

She looked up at him in confusion. “What do you mean, there? Pav and Lav said I’d look better with my hair put up.”

“I think the most beautiful people just do what they want,” he said. “Be who they are without caring what anyone else thinks. Why do you think I love you?” he asked with a small smile. “That’s exactly who you are, not to mention that even with no makeup or glamour charms or done-up hair, you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in my life.”

Hermione looked up at him closely and softly said, “You’ve changed so much in such little time,” She hadn’t understood until just now how much he had really changed.

“Yeah,” he said thoughtfully. “I finally got why I only had two friends despite being so popular. Luna, well…Luna, she was friends with me because I think she could see who I was going to be. Only one person liked me for who I was, but only because he was the same. I also figured out how much happier I was when being a caring person and realized how unhappy I was when I was being an arrogant prat.”

“That’s good,” said Hermione encouragingly, nodding her head.

Harry’s eyes started sparkling with what seemed to be unshed tears. Is he…about to cry? she asked herself in amazement. This was something she thought she would never see Harry do in his life. “I realized, too, how bad of a brother I’ve been to Aurora,” he said, his voice a little raspy. “I wish I would’ve noticed how great of a person she was earlier. Because let me tell you,” he said with a weak laugh and a sniffle, “it’s the worst feeling in the world when you tell your fifteen-year-old sister you love her and have her tell you in return that she’s always wanted to hear you say that.”

“I’ll tell you this much: You have plenty of time to make it up to her and you’re certainly doing well with it right now,” Hermione said earnestly in return. “She’s looked up to you this whole time, you know. By doing the right thing you’re being the best older brother in the world.”

“I wish,” said Harry with a weak chuckle.

“You really are making a difference,” Hermione said, trying to make him understand. “And not just with her, but with me, too.”

“Really?” asked Harry, but Hermione heard it from far away.

Should she tell him now? Was it too early? Was she in love with him for sure?

For the last question, her mind immediately said yes with absolute conviction. The emotional side just wanted to tell him she loved him and have him snog her senseless, yet she had always been a very logical person. This was a life-altering decision about to be made...there was no way she was just going to jump into it and impulsively give in to her feelings without thoroughly thinking through the risks and benefits.

So she stayed content in Harry’s arms, wishing the song would never end. But it did, and when he pulled back they smiled at each other. And before she knew it she was blurting, “Harry, I—”

“HARRY!” screamed a girl right next to Hermione’s ear, causing her to wince.

The girl, who Hermione recognized as Ginny Weasley, Ron’s sister, was dressed in a very revealing dress that had nothing below the waist but a couple inches of frills. The neckline plunged down to the top of her stomach, revealing quite a bit of cleavage. Disgusting…Hermione thought to herself.

“Harry, dance?” she asked, batting her eyes that had way too much eye shadow on them.

Harry looked at Hermione apologetically and seemed to be resisting the urge to roll his eyes and sigh and said, “Yeah, sure,” half-heartedly.

He gave Hermione a sad smile and winked at her and a smile made its way onto her face.

The next song started and Hermione was still standing there, smiling like a fool. “You love him, don’t you?” asked a curious from her right.

Hermione looked over at Aurora and took a deep breath before nodding slowly. “I thought this would never happen and that I would never say this, but…I’m in love with Harry Potter,” she said with conviction.

Aurora squealed and wrapped her best friend in a tight hug, saying, “Did you tell him yet?”

Hermione arched an eyebrow at Aurora and said, “Did you see us in a tight embrace with our mouths latched together?”

Aurora made a disgusted face as Hermione laughed. After recovering from that disturbing image of her brother, Aurora asked, “So what are you waiting for? Go tell him right now!”

“I can’t,” she said.

“Why not?” asked Aurora. “It’s not like he’s going to reject you or anything! He’s been waiting for this day for three years!”

“I know,” said Hermione. “It’s just a big step to take forward…you know me, you think I would just profess my love for someone after I just realized I loved them?” She failed to mention the fact that she had almost done exactly that not one minute ago.

Aurora gave Hermione a stern look. “You better tell him within a week or I’m telling him,” she said. “You two deserve each other, you’re both good people.”

A week was enough time to decide if Harry was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Because when she loved someone she meant it, and she knew that Harry did too. This was just as beneficial to Harry as it was her. If he turned out to be just a crush or passing fancy, it would save both of them pain and heartache.

She nodded to Aurora, making the younger girl smile. “That sounds fair enough.”

The song ended at that moment and Harry came over, already looking tired. “You guys want to grab something to drink? I’m parched.”

“Sure,” said Aurora, bounding off and leaving the two lovebirds alone.

After a long, awkward silence, Harry said, “We did a great job setting up, didn’t we?” asked Harry. “Looks awesome.”

Hermione could tell he was trying to diffuse the tension that had developed between them even though he didn’t know why it was there. Hermione did know, of course, because she knew something he didn’t.

She stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Harry, I…you’ve changed a lot,” she said, unable to find the proper words to convey what she was trying to say. “And, well…” she decided to stop beating around the bush and ask him straightforward, “…do you want to be my friend?”

Harry looked a little surprised for a second, seemingly unable to comprehend the words that had just come out of her mouth. “I thought you hated me,” he said before his eyes widened. “Sorry. Er…That sort of just slipped out. What I meant to say was: yeah, I’d love to be your friend.”

Hermione smiled quirkily at him, deciding to let his first comment slip. “Great!” she said with genuine enthusiasm.

A semi-uncomfortable silence fell over them and they both cleared their throats at the same time. Then they met each other’s eyes and laughed while they headed over to the table Aurora was sitting at. When they sat down at the table with her, she asked, “What’s so funny?”

They both shook their heads and took swigs from their butterbeers, earning an odd look from Aurora. “Whatever,” she finally said with a sigh.

“A-Aurora?” said a quiet voice from a boy who had come alone, blushing like mad. “Will…will you dance with me?”

Harry recognized the boy, how could he not? They had practically grown up together. Nicholas Black, son of Sirius and his German wife Katharina and in the same year as Aurora.

Aurora looked over at Harry and non-verbally asked if he was okay with her ditching him. He glanced over at Hermione in response and gestured back at Nicholas with his head, telling her to go have some fun. She hopped up and latched onto his arm as she said, “I’d love to, Klaus! Lead the way!”

And then it was just Harry and Hermione left. They sat there, not looking at each other and continuously reaching for their drinks so they had an excuse to not talk, unsure what to say. Hermione was watching everyone dance as Harry watched just his sister and Nicholas dance, relieved that they weren’t humping and grinding each other but actually slow-dancing. Hermione noticed that the DJ was spinning both songs from the magical world and the muggle world. Harry’s foot started twitching in anxiousness as he switched his gaze to Hermione, who was now looking down at her almost-empty butterbeer with what seemed to be fascinated interest. Another song ended and Harry said, “Hermione, do you want to dance?”

“I’d love to,” she said quickly, looking up at him with a smile on her face. She had been waiting for him to ask.

Harry led her out to the floor and took her waist, her hands going up to his shoulders. The song that came on was the slowest song that had played yet, “Love Song” by 311. They both blushed but continued dancing, subconsciously moving closer as the song continued. By the time the song had finished Hermione’s arms were around the back of Harry’s neck and they could feel each other’s breath on their faces.

They made sure to consciously keep their distance after that, Hermione wanting to keep being logical while Harry attempted to not push her into a difficult position in their very fledgling friendship. They danced together for the rest of the night, taking small breaks when they got tired.

And finally the ball ended, both Harry and Hermione tired from a night of mental and physical exhaustion. Aurora met them at the doors of the Great Hall as Nicholas skirted past them, staying as far as he could from Harry, before bolting for Gryffindor Tower. “What’s his problem?” asked Harry, looking down at his suit to make it was nothing on him.

“He kissed me,” said Aurora. “I kindly pushed him off and told him it wasn’t what I wanted at the moment, but I think he’s still afraid you’re going to do something to him.”

Harry shrugged. “As long as he didn’t know beforehand that you didn’t want it,” he said.

“He didn’t,” said Aurora. “And I should rephrase my statement. It wasn’t really that I didn’t want it—it’s the fact that I didn’t want it at this moment.”

“I don’t get it,” said Harry, scratching his head as they headed back to Gryffindor Tower to drop Aurora off. “You want it, but you don’t want it?”

“What she’s trying to say,” said Hermione, “is that she wanted it, just not right after she broke up with Andrew.”

“Right,” said Aurora in confirmation. “I told him to ask me out in a few weeks and it’d play out differently.”

“As long as he doesn’t hurt you physically or emotionally,” said Harry, “everything will be fine between us.”

“I’ll let you know if I need any help,” said Aurora, giving them both hugs and wishing them a good night as they arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady.

Aurora went inside, leaving Harry and Hermione to walk alone to their dormitories. They walked in silence, enjoying each other’s presence, wishing they would never reach their dorms. But they did, and the night was over, and they were standing awkwardly in the common room, unsure of how to say goodnight to each other. Finally, Hermione made a move, stepping forward and giving him a hug. His arms made their way around her and she sighed in content, saying, “Good night, Harry. Thanks for the great night.”

“Anytime,” he said before letting her go. “Have a good night, see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” she said with a small smile.

They both went in their rooms and got ready for bed before getting in, thinking of each other. Harry was thinking about how great it was that Hermione seemed to be on the brink of admitting to herself that she loved him. Hermione was thinking that she was going to have a very long week weighing the pros and cons of being in love with Harry and spending the rest of her life with him.

She didn’t know how right she was about it being a long week, just for reasons she didn’t expect.

A/N: I know my chapters are getting shorter, but I wanted to have a final chapter that was going to be longer than 1,500 words, so I cut it off right there. And yes…that means that the next chapter is the final chapter (I think…)!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please review!

I already have a great idea for my next story, and I’m almost 100% sure it’s going to be quite a bit longer than this one!

A/N: Here it is; the final installment of Like Father, Like Son! Thank you all very much for all of your totally awesome reviews! They really do encourage me to put the next chapter on time or even early!

Make sure you look out for my next story, which I still don’t have a title for!

Please Review!

“Pure love is a willingness to give without a thought of receiving anything in return.”
-Mildred Lisette Norman

Chapter 12 – True Love

The first five days of the week went surprisingly fast, her days spent with Harry and Aurora fun and eventful. She really learned a lot about Harry in those five days that cemented the fact that she was in love with him.

And then came the sixth day, which was two days before the start of school after the refreshing winter break. She, Harry, and Aurora, had gone down to Hogsmeade for the day before the two seventh years came back to the castle a bit early so Harry could go to Quidditch practice while Aurora hung out with Klaus.

So Hermione was left all alone in her room, already dressed in her pajamas for a nice night in with a good book. She opened the top drawer of her bedside table and reached down for the next book she was going to read, having finished the previous one the night before. But instead of a heavy book, her hand came into contact with a light stack of papers. That’s odd, she thought to herself as she pulled the papers out, which were bound together with a rubber band. As she peeled the rubber band off and caught sight of the untidy scrawl marking the papers, she remembered what they were. They were the papers she had copied from Harry’s ‘Top Secret’ drawer. Hermione debated with herself as she looked down at them, trying to decide whether or not she really wanted to do this. She and Harry were getting along really well, and she was pretty sure she was going to tell him her feelings the next day. But she was a very curious person and would’ve been grateful for any more insight she could get.

Still, it was wrong to do, and her morals won out in the end…until she saw her name and the word ‘love’ right next to each other on one of the papers. Then she was reading them like a crazy woman, her eyes moving as quickly as possible across the pages as her brain absorbed the new knowledge at an incredibly fast pace.

Most of the papers looked like journal entries and letters written to her, while the rest were made up of incredibly detailed drawings of her. She never knew Harry was such a good artist. She never really took more than a cursory glance at the drawings though, and her eyes blazed a trail through the letters and journal entries. A few, though, looked important or cute enough to slow down and actually enjoy. She had two favorites, one from fourth year and one from their current year.

The first one was dated October 23, 1994, and read:

Dear Hermione,

I fell in love with you today.

It was quite sudden, really. I had noticed how beautiful you were earlier this year but I didn’t really harbour any feelings for you. Then you woke me up during my ceremonial nap in Charms and told me, “That’s not such a good idea, you know. This class could affect the rest of your life.”

I guess you were right, in a sense. That class did affect my life, but in a way different than how you thought it would. It was that scene right there that made me realize I was in love with you. I had been eyeing you since third year (Why wouldn’t I? You’re beautiful!) and that incident had pushed me into the realm of love. You were the first girl I had met at Hogwarts who didn’t turn into a ditzy flirt when talking to me. You also weren’t afraid to wake me up and tell me why I shouldn’t sleep in class. You showed that you were strong and independent, which I find incredibly attractive. Then I remembered you were the smartest student in the school and the rest is history.

I’ve decided I’m going to make you fall in love with me no matter how long it takes. I hope it doesn’t take too long, but…my life motto is, “Never Give Up.”

You hold my heart, Hermione. I love you.

Love,
Harry

Hermione thought the letter was beautiful and very romantic. To have fallen in love with her at such an early age and never give up in his pursuit for her heart. And she was surprised Harry would partake in writing letters and journal entries to keep his past intact for as long as possible. He (especially at that age) didn’t seem to think too much in regards of the future. Then she realized with a small start that he always had when it came to her.

She wiped away the happy tears that had collected in her eyes and continued through the letters, not slowing down to truly read a letter thoroughly until she came across one that was written only a few weeks ago. It read:

Dear Hermione,

I thought I was in love with you yesterday, but what I felt then is nothing compared to how I feel for you today. And I know that tomorrow I’ll find myself thinking the same thing about today.

You opened my eyes last night after the Quidditch match. I’ve been an arrogant, insufferable git and I’ve deserved everything that’s come my way in terms of you being cold towards me. But just like that day I fell in love with you three years ago, you’ve changed my life for the better. Because I’ve decided to change. If that’s what it takes to win your heart, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.

And I’m not gloating or anything, but I think you’re falling in love with me. I don’t know how long it’ll be before you admit it to yourself then gather the courage to tell me, but don’t worry. I have no problem waiting.

Forever yours,
Harry

Hermione was staring down at the letters in her hands, her heart swelling in her chest. The other letters and journal entries had been a lot like those two, and they made her realize that there was no denying it: she was ready. Ready to love him with the depth that he loved her. Ready to open up and face her fears. Ready to trust him with her heart. Ready to spend her life with him.

Hermione jumped off the bed, threw on a robe and a pair of slippers, and hurried out of the room, set on cornering Harry after his Quidditch practice ended and dragging him into a broom closet to snog him senseless after confessing her undying love for him.

***LFLS***

Harry walked through the castle with his broom slung over his shoulder, a scowl on his face. The Quidditch team had been flying like a bunch of first years and the practice had ended early after Ginny had been flirting with him and as a result had had her nose broken after a bludger smashed into her face.

Ron was taking her to the Hospital Wing while Harry was taking the long route back to his dorm, trying to get rid of his anger before he had to face Hermione.

He arrived at the common room to find it empty, devoid of Hermione’s presence except for the warm fire and the lingering scent of her perfume.

He was about to just go into his room and shut himself away for the night when a breeze came through Hermione’s open window and blew a stack of papers off of her bed and onto the ground. Harry set down his broom and hesitated for only a second before entering her room to organize the papers for her. After all, he had been in her room before…just never without her there.

He organized the papers without really looking at them, for they all seemed to be covered in writing—they were probably some of Hermione’s notes. Then he came across a very detailed drawing of Hermione chewing the end of her quill in thought. That’s odd, he thought to himself, this looks just like the drawing…in my…top secret drawer.

With hands that were shaking in mounting anger, Harry looked at the rest of the papers he had picked up. They were indeed the contents of his top secret drawer.

So it had been Hermione who had gone in his room, and not only that, but she had copied the contents of his drawer.

The drawer filled with papers he was going to save for a very special moment in their lives.

***LFLS***

The entrance to her and Harry’s common room in sight, Hermione sped up. Her enthusiasm hadn’t died despite it being almost an hour since she had left. Her enthusiasm would never die.

She arrived back in the common room out of breath to find Harry sitting in the common room looking down at some papers. He looked up and she breathlessly said, “Harry, I—w-what’s wrong?”

Harry had stood up and was now walking up to her and thrusting the papers into her face. “Care to tell me where you found these?”

Hermione’s smile slid off her face as a look of disbelief replaced it. She had left her door open—how stupid! Even more stupid, she had snooped around his room and come across them in the first place. “I-I…”

“So you decided you could just go into my room when I wasn’t there,” said Harry. “I can’t believe you, Hermione.”

She was like a fish out of water. “I-I…you just did the same though, didn’t you?” she said defensively, unable to think of anything else.

“Your window was open and a breeze blew these on the floor,” said Harry coldly, his usually-beautiful emerald eyes as hard as she had ever seen them. “I was picking them up for you.”

“I…oh,” was all she managed to say, ashamed of herself.

Then he exploded. “You ‘oh’?!” he yelled in her face. “You go into my room and snoop around before deciding to copy the contents of a drawer that says ‘top secret’ and all you have to say for yourself is ‘oh’?! Merlin, Hermione! Do you think you’re so high and mighty that you can just do what you want and not apologize for your actions? Or are you just so daft that you think you can get away with it because you’re you? Did you think there wouldn’t be any consequences for your actions? Because there are!” he shouted, hurt evident in the way his voice cracked.

Hermione was seething over the way he had called her daft and acted as though she was an idiot. In her angered state she wasn’t thinking logically at all and the only thought that was crossing her mind was that he hadn’t changed at all. And that broke her heart. She spat, “I just wanted to see what kind of stupid, cheesy crap you write when you’re crying about how lonely you are! I was going to post them around the school!” she said, trying to think of anything that would make him feel as much pain as she was feeling at the moment. “I never wanted to be your friend, I was just doing it to humiliate you! Because I hate you, Harry Potter! I wish I never met you! The least you could do is leave me alone, but you’re too much of an idiot to understand me when I say that!” she finished, her eyes brimming with tears, the pain of her shattered heart making her chest and stomach twist and knot.

Harry’s eyes were filled with tears too—hot, burning tears—and his mouth opened as he squinted his eyes to try to stop the evidence of his heartbreak from falling. They stared at each other, both hearts shattering more and more as the seconds ticked on, before Harry crushed the papers in his hand and turned around.

Hermione felt like it was a major turning point in her life as Harry got closer and closer to the portrait hole. He hesitated for only the briefest of moments before exiting and that feeling passed. But it all felt different, it all felt so…wrong…as she stood there and let the tears fall.

***LFLS***

Aurora was walking through the castle with Klaus, the pair on their way back to the dormitory, when she saw Harry walk across the hallway in front of them, a very lost look on his face. Aurora told Klaus to go on without her and ran after her brother, catching up to him right outside an empty classroom, which she dragged him in to. “Harry, are you alright?”

He looked up at her, confused, seemingly unaware of anything around him. “She hates me,” he said quietly and thoughtfully to himself like he was still trying to figure it out.

Aurora’s heart sank down to her feet. This couldn’t be good. “Who?” she asked quietly, though she already knew the answer.

He finally seemed to notice she was there and looked at her oddly before he grimaced and grabbed at his chest. He gave a choked sob and drew in a shaky breath before saying, “Were you a part of this?” Then he yelled, “Are you pretending to be my friend too so you can humiliate me?”

“Harry,” she said with disbelief, her eyes filling with tears. It wasn’t the question that made her sad but the realization that Hermione must’ve said that to him. Her brother was heartbroken and hers was hurting in response.

Harry broke down and hugged her, sobbing into her shoulder, their roles reversed from two days ago. Aurora was at a loss as of what to do. She had never seen Harry cry before and had really never expected him to, let alone this desperately. Luckily, she was a woman, so she had her woman’s intuition to help calm her brother down. She rubbed his back and made soothing sounds, telling him it was alright. After a while he cried himself out, pulling back with a sniffle.

When she asked him what had happened he explained everything and told her exactly what she had said, every word etched into his memory. “Harry,” she said sympathetically after he had finished.

“Sorry for accusing you of being in on it,” he said, his knees drawn up to his chest as they sat on the ground with their backs against the wall.

“There’s no it to be a part of,” Aurora explained. “Hermione just said that in the heat of the moment. You know she didn’t mean it, right?”

“Maybe not the whole pretending to be my friend thing,” said Harry thoughtfully. “But she seemed pretty adamant about the fact that she hates me.”

“She didn’t mean that either,” said Aurora sincerely, trying to salvage whatever was left of the situation.

“Yeah,” said Harry to appease his sister, though they both knew he didn’t believe what he was saying at all.

“You should go to bed,” said Aurora. “I find it’s always better to sleep off the tears.”

“Good idea,” said Harry, who really did look exhausted.

They both stood up and Aurora gave Harry a quirky smile before saying, “Remember, love makes people do stupid things.”

And with that, she left, leaving Harry to think, Love? But I didn’t do anything stupid…

***LFLS***

The next morning, Harry woke up and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast, his feet dragging. He didn’t want to wake up and go down to breakfast and pretend everything was alright. He didn’t want his chest to feel like it was going to break from the pain he was feeling when he saw Hermione sitting at the end of Gryffindor table by herself, poking at her food with little enthusiasm.

He spotted Luna and decided to sit next to her to get her take on this. Before he could even sit down, though, she stood up, grabbed his hand, and led him out of the Great Hall and into an empty classroom without saying a word.

“It looks like it’s time for your last lesson, Harry,” Luna said quietly and sympathetically, a sad look on her face.

Harry looked up at her, an accepting look in his eyes.

***LFLS***

Crack!

Aurora’s hand met Hermione’s cheek, sending her staggering back. Hermione rubbed it gently and her sad eyes met Aurora’s as she said, “I deserved that.”

“You deserve that and many more,” said Aurora angrily, her hand stinging. “I cannot believe you said that to him!”

“I know,” said Hermione with a sigh, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Obviously you weren’t,” said Aurora, her voice so cold it sent shivers down Hermione’s spine.

“I’m sorry,” she said, unsure of what else to do but apologize.

“Why are you apologizing to me?” Aurora asked. “You should be apologizing to Harry!”

“He probably hates me,” said Hermione sadly. After crying for quite a while the night before, she realized how incredibly stupid she was for not only taking his papers, but for not thinking through what she was going to say before she said it. If her heart hadn’t felt as though it had literally been torn in half, she would’ve realized that he was understandably angry about the invasion of privacy and was not actually his old self. “I definitely wouldn’t blame him if he did. I’m such an idiot.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” said Aurora. Hermione looked up at her with a small flicker of hope in her eyes. “He cried last night.” So that didn’t exactly make Hermione feel any better, now she just felt worse. She looked down at the floor in shame and Aurora continued. “He still loves you, you know. That’s what I mean when I say he cried. If you just apologize and explain to him…”

“I’m scared, though,” admitted Hermione.

“Well, scared or not, at the very least you have to apologize to him,” said Aurora.

“You’re right,” said Hermione with a determined nod.

“Right now,” said Aurora.

“Right…now,” said Hermione with quite a bit less determination.

“Go,” said Aurora firmly, pointing at the door.

“Right,” said Hermione, nodding as she left the room.

***LFLS***

Harry walked forlornly through the halls, half-heartedly looking for Hermione. He really didn’t want this conversation to take place…to admit defeat.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Hermione was looking for him, for she rounded a corner at breakneck speed and when she saw him she looked visibly relieved. “Harry, I’m so sorry,” she said with complete sincerity. “I wasn’t thinking straight when I said those words to you…I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” he said, his stomach squirming as he thought about what he was going to do. “And I’m sorry about yelling at you too. I might have overreacted a bit.” Hermione shook her head, about to tell him how she really felt about him. But he started talking again. “But now…I think if it hasn’t happened by now, you’ll never love me.” She opened her mouth to tell him otherwise, but he just kept going on. “So I’ve made my decision. It isn’t right for me to keep pressuring you and it hurts so much for me to keep loving you without receiving anything in return, so I’ve decided to let you go. I hope you find happiness with someone else. Excuse me if I don’t feel like being your friend anymore, because it hurts to have you so close but just out of my grasp.” Hermione tried to speak, but her throat had closed up, her eyes filled with tears. Harry gave her a quirky smile, touched her hair, and said, “Your hair is beautiful.”

And Hermione let him walk away, unable to find the ability to speak. Almost a minute after he had rounded the corner, Hermione softly whispered, “But I love you too.”

***LFLS***

A week later Hermione found herself in her room, bags under her eyes, staring up at her ceiling in thought. It had been the most miserable week in her life.

Harry hadn’t spoken even one word to her and seemed to be actively avoiding her, for whenever she went into the same room as him or tried to sit next to him, he would leave or look at her weird and move seats.

She sighed and stood up with her book to go to the common room and read in front of the fire. As soon as she got out there she tensed up, for Harry was in there, and trudged on, plopping on the sofa in front of the flames. She sat there reading, the tension growing thicker and thicker as they stayed in the same room together longer and longer. Finally, Hermione had a chance to tell Harry how she felt, but he seemed to be very irritated at the moment, swearing at his homework every few minutes and frequently rubbing at his eyes.

She thought he was mad at his homework, but was proven wrong as he slammed his book shut and demanded, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Hermione sat there, willing herself to stay calm. The last time she had gotten angry at him it had ended in them not speaking for a week. “I just came out here to read.”

“That’s great,” said Harry sarcastically, obviously to his wit’s end. “All you’ve wanted me to do for years is leave you alone, and now that I am you won’t stop trying to come near me! Is this some form of payback for the last three years, is that it? I’m sorry for that, I really am! Please…just leave me alone, Hermione,” he finished pathetically, no heat in his voice.

Hermione stood up and walked until she was standing right in front of him, looking down into those emerald eyes so full of pain. She gathered her courage and softly, finally, said, “But…I’m in love with you, Harry.”

A flicker of hope flared in those beautiful eyes of his before they went back to their dark, lifeless green. “You’re a sick woman,” he said to Hermione, whose mouth fell open in shock. “This is how you’re going to be?” he asked icily. “You’re set on paying me back in the cruelest way possible, telling me something I’ve wanted to hear for three years? You disgust me, I never knew you could stoop so—”

Crack! Hermione’s hand met Harry’s face, almost knocking him out of his chair. He shot up with surprising speed and grabbed Hermione’s wrist, stopping her shaking hand from connecting with his face again. He was about to shout at her to not hit him when he stopped because there were tears pouring down her face, her lips quivering and her shoulders shaking. “Y-you told me,” she said as cried, not bothering to wipe the tears off her face. “You told me t-to hit you if y-you ever h-hurt me again,” she said, taking uneven breaths.

“W-what?” he asked, taken aback.

“Ever since the dance,” she said, still crying, “I’ve been in love with you. I was going to tell you when you found the papers. But apparently I disgust you,” she spat, tearing her hand out of his grip.

She turned around and began marching back to her room, shoulders squared, when Harry’s hands grabbed her arms and turned her around before he smashed his lips against hers in a searing kiss, his hands wrapping around her back to hold her in place.

Hermione threaded her fingers through her hair, smiling into the kiss as she responded just as passionately.

Harry tasted Hermione’s tears on her lips and he tightened his hold on her, vowing to never let anything hurt her again.

They lingered a bit before they broke the kiss, both of them panting and their faces red. “I love you too,” said Harry.

Hermione smiled and used her sleeves to wipe the tears off her face before saying, “I already know that.”

“I know,” said Harry, still holding on to her. “I’ve always wanted to tell you when you loved me too.”

Hermione’s smile grew even wider and she gave Harry a chaste peck on the lips before pushing him down on the couch and bringing his bag over to him. She sat on his lap and pulled out her book, resting her back against his chiseled chest. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed the side of her head and they fell into a comfortable silence as they both read, content with just being with each other at that moment.

They had taken what was probably the longest, hardest path to happiness, but somehow they had found their way.

Epilogue – 17 Months Later

“Harry, pizza-flavored ice cream, now!” yelled Hermione from the couch as Harry shook his head in their kitchen, a pile of boxes around him.

Thank Merlin for magic, he thought as he transfigured the vanilla in their freezer to pizza-flavor.

“What took you so long?” Hermione demanded, irritated as she snatched it out of his hands and took a bite, moaning in ecstasy as the cool pizza flavor soaked her taste buds. Lily, Helen, and Katharina all gave Harry sympathetic looks but he just smiled back at them before turning back to his wife.

“Sorry, love,” he said with a quirky smile. “I’m going to go help the guys now.”

He turned around to go help James, Sirius, Remus, Robert, and Ron move he and Hermione’s stuff into their new home while the ladies fretted over his eight-month pregnant wife, who let out a very distinct upset huff. Harry resisted the urge to sigh—it looked like she was having another mood swing—and turned back around. Hermione’s lower lip was trembling as she looked down at her hand, playing with her wedding ring. Harry crouched next to her and took her hand in his before whispering, “What’s the matter?”

Hermione met his eye, tears brimming in hers. “Am I not beautiful to you anymore? Is that why I don’t get a kiss?”

Harry smiled and leaned forward, capturing her lips with his and making it the hottest, kinkiest kiss he could with an audience present, showing her just how attractive he found her and what he wished he could do to her at that moment. When he pulled back it was to find her panting with her face flushed, and he cocked an eyebrow at her and smirked before standing up and exiting the room.

As he helped the men do the moving, he reflected on his life so far with Hermione. They had gotten together in January of 1998, married on Christmas Eve of that same year, which turned out to be the same time Hermione got pregnant with their first child, and were in the process of moving into their first home together at the moment.

The couple’s parents were shocked about Hermione being pregnant, though that was an understatement for Robert, who had to be physically restrained from hurting Harry after the happy couple had informed them of the news. According to him they were far too young to have kids and Harry was to blame for Hermione putting her career on the backburner in favor of raising a family. Then Harry yelled at him that they were married and that this parenthood was planned, that they were both in favor of raising a family over anything else, and that they were adults now and had to accept the fact that they could do what they wanted and were well-aware of the consequences of having children so soon. Harry also told him that he was no longer the one that was supposed to be the prime caretaker of Hermione, but Harry himself as her husband should be.

Needless to say they didn’t talk for about a month.

But they made up after that, Robert realizing Harry was right, and they had moved on.

Everyone else had been awesome about Hermione being pregnant, especially Aurora. She visited them at least twice a week every summer and holiday, loving to spend as much time as she could with her best friend and brother. She and Nicholas had been going out for a little over a year at the moment and their relationship seemed to be doing nothing but getting stronger with each passing day.

Hermione’s eight months of pregnancy had been crazy for both of them, especially since they both had full time jobs (and now Harry had two). Harry was in fact the seeker for the Appleby Arrows, the team he had grown up watching, while Hermione had just finished her healer training.

After all the moving was done (which was much easier with magic than by hand, Robert Granger surmised) and he had bade everyone thanks and goodbye, Harry went back in the sitting room to find it empty but for Hermione, who was passed out on the sofa with her swollen ankles and feet set up on a pillow. He was just about to levitate her up to bed when he remembered that using magic on a pregnant woman was a bad idea, so he decided to transfigure the sofa into a bed for convenience.

Although it was only ten to eight, Harry then transfigured his own clothes into pajamas and crawled in with Hermione after carefully tucking her in, not wanting to wake her. But as soon as he kissed her forehead goodnight her eyes fluttered open and a lazy smile made its way on her face, and she brought Harry’s head down a bit to kiss his lips softly, leaving her delectable taste on them. “I love you, Harry,” she said softly as they settled back down to go to sleep, feeling comfortable doing so in the new house now that all their stuff had been moved in.

“I love you too, Hermione,” he said just as quietly in return, gently rubbing her swollen stomach.

He watched her fall asleep, just admiring how beautiful she was before he decided to settle down for himself. His wife snuggled into him in her sleep as he pulled her closer, her nose just barely brushing his own.

Everything may have been jumbled and hectic at the moment, but as long as they had each other, Harry knew they were going to be alright.

A/N: *Sniffle* It’s over…

I hope you all loved it, because I know I loved writing it!

Once again, thank you very much for all of your supportive reviews and feedback and I hope you continue with that for this very last chapter of Like Father, Like Son!

And as for my next story, I’ll give you all just two tiny hints as to what it’s going to be like before putting up the first chapter in a few days.

First, the Genres: It’s going to be a Romance/Drama with just a tiny smidge of angst.
Second, the Title: ‘I Miss You, Hermione’ (No character death…I promise!)

Thank you all, please review!