The List by Rihaan

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 19/09/2013
Last Updated: 18/02/2014
Status: Completed

It was just supposed to be a simple list - a snippy response to a stupid, sexist list he found.
He thought more than a few people would be mad at him. He was wrong. So, very wrong.




1. Number One
-------------

Happy Birthday, Hermione. Your birthday doesn't get enough attention. Goddamn 'Talk Like
a Pirate Day'. That's probably why J.K. made that her birthday, because it's everything
Hermione is against. Please watch your language today :)

Please enjoy my Harmony AU story. Until the entire project is completely finished, this is all
you're going to get. I learned my lesson - finish the story, then post it.

The List. More or less the Hogwarts version of the Bible, or the Torah. Written by the most
eligible bachelor in the Wizarding World, the Conqueror of Voldemort, the
Boy-Who-Lived-So-Bloody-Many-Times-That-Sometimes- You-Wonder-That-He-Just-Might-Be-Immortal, Harry
James Potter. It was a simple list. Some call it sexist; others call it stupid; but the majority of
the Hogwarts population called it a necessity for the continuation of human life. Well, it was a
bit of juicy gossip, anyway.

It was a list of the top ten hottest girls currently in Hogwarts.

'Hottest' wasn't really the right word. Harry was an old-fashioned, noble fellow; he
preferred to look at a girl's inner beauty, before putting a face with a rank.

Though the outside attributes do have a bit more merit.

It all started, as it usually does, with the girls, and their version of the list. Their list
was, obviously, about the hottest guys in Hogwarts. Harry, being a fifth year, won the last two
years, and was a shoo-in for his last two years at the school. Hell, there was even a talk about
making him the first ever alumni. In the past 400 years of The List's existence, that was a
tremendous honor.

Of course, Harry knew none of this. The only reason he found out was when he overheard Lavender
and Parvati's conversation. After a bit more ribbing, and more giggling than anyone could
handle, he was given as much information.

So as he was in the girls' dormitories, staring at the decorated, orderly parchment
magically glued to the wall, he figured that it was time he replied to this.

When Hermione walked out of her room wearing nothing but a long Quidditch jersey and carrying a
towel, tiredly rubbing her eyes and walking right past Harry, he felt inspired to start right away.
It took a few seconds for him to notice his own last name on the back of the red and gold
jersey.

For the rest of the week, Harry holed himself up in his dorm, using his pensieve to study every
girl in Hogwarts fourth year and up. He didn't worry about classes as much, although he did
participate; Headmistress McGonagall, with a smile tugging her lips, felt that defeating a Dark
Lord single-handedly was one of the main reasons for getting an education in the first place -
really, he was only there to keep some sense of normalcy in his life.

He sighed tiredly as he finished the most recent memory. With his clout, he probably could have
gotten every girl to form a line for a bit of modeling and an interview, but he felt that he should
judge from natural beauty and everyday interactions, not from make-up and scripted lies.

Fortunately, he had met quite a few girls, due to his fame, classes, and Quidditch matches. He
already had an idea of who would go on the list, but he didn't want to be biased.

So, after a few minutes of consideration, he put down a name.

~Two Days Later~

Harry removed his invisibility cloak.

"Harry! Wha- how did you get up here?"

Harry sat on the bed, and without a second thought, banished the basilisk armor underneath. It
really wasn't built with comfort in mind. He was currently putting spells on the Gaunt Family
Ring that could protect him sufficiently, but until then, his armor would have to do. He had to
practice Constant Vigilance, after all, especially around the other houses. But he trusted Hermione
with his life.

"I shimmied up the staircase."

"You... you what?"

Harry grinned as he fell back and his head hit her blanket-covered lap. "It was a trick
someone taught me, and as it turns out, it works. See, when a bloke tries to run up the stairs, it
turns into a slide, right?" Hermione nodded. "And the rail disappears when you grab for
it, right?" She nodded again, furrowing her brows. "But what if you grab the
rail first?"

"If you touch the stairs at all, then the rail disappears, regardless,"
Hermione replied, biting her lower lip as she stared down at Harry, her back leaning against the
headboard. She moved her books off to the side.

Harry nodded. "Exactly."

They were silent. Hermione took this as her cue to put the rest of the pieces together. Even she
had long ago accepted the fact that while she was still the smartest witch in her generation, it
was rather clear that Harry wasn't far behind as the smartest Wizard in his
generation. They were a formidable team together; the events of their past summer made that
obvious.

During the comfortable silence, Hermione began stroking Harry's hair in concentration. Harry
practically purred as he closed his eyes, patiently waiting.

"So... you shimmied up the rail? And you didn't touch the stairs at all?" She
guessed.

Harry nodded, smiling, his eyes still closed. "Yeah. If I had known that before, I would
have been doing that every day. Does wonders for exercise."

Hermione glanced down at his stomach. She had noticed.

She tore her eyes away, thankful that he was still in his own land, and she ran her fingers
through his head. "So, how does it feel now that you have full access to us girls and
an invisibility cloak?"

"Pretty good, actually," Harry muttered, and Hermione tapped him lightly on the
forehead. He chuckled. "You know I'm kidding, 'Mione. I've only actually done it
once before, when I found out of a certain list's existence." He cracked one eye
open. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Hermione cocked her head. "What list?"

Harry lifted his head and concentrated, before a small scroll appeared in his hand. Hermione had
to grin at Harry's impressive feats of magic every time he did it. "Apparently, every year
for the past four hundred years, there has been a list of the most attractive males in Hogwarts.
It's been on the wall, right next to your dorm room."

He wordlessly handed her the list, and she seemed surprised. She quickly got over her shock and
looked down to him. "I had no idea," she stressed, and Harry nodded, pleased at her
answer. She took a glance at the parchment.

1. Harry Potter
2. Cedric Diggory
3. Fred / George Weasley
4. Neville Longbottom
5. Lee Jordan
6. Justin Finch-Fletchley
7. Dean Thomas
8. Ernie MacMillan
9. Blaise Zabini
10. Zacharias Smith

"I can't help but notice that all of the top names are war heroes," Hermione
commented, smirking.

Harry said nothing, still relaxing as one of her hands was still rubbing at his scalp.

"Not arguing about the first name, of course," she said, and Harry hmm'ed
in appreciation. "And I guess that at the right angle, there is a certain sparkle
about Cedric... but I don't particularly think some names deserve to be on this list. Number
four, for instance. While Neville is a great person, I don't think he should be on
this list. That's not a slight against him or anything, it's just that he seems to be the
same Neville that we always knew."

"That killed Bellatrix," Harry muttered, "and Rockwood. Dueled both of the
Lestrange brothers to a standstill before he got help. That's sexy."

Hermione moved the paper aside and smirked down at him. Harry opened his eyes.

"You know what I mean," he said dryly. "The act is very attractive. It appears
it's always been more like the most eligible bachelor list instead of actually going on purely
physical attraction. For instance, Draco was high on the list last year. I did a bit of digging and
talked to Lav; apparently, his money made him very attractive. The fact that his dad is dead, his
mother shames him on a daily basis, and he's a Dead Dark Lord supporter, but he still
looks like Draco Malfoy, is not as attractive."

Hermione snickered. "They should have seen him two years ago."

Harry smiled as he remembered that day. Draco was talking about Buckbeak getting executed weeks
before the trial, and Hermione had clearly had enough.

She really was a bomb waiting to explode, what with the constant use of her time turner. It was
strange, really. He had used his own many more times than she ever did, but she was the more
stressed. Technically, by this point, he was older than she was, when he kept his and her rotations
logged. He could legally do magic outside of school by Christmastime, while she had to wait until
mid-march.

Harry was secretly in the process of having a legitimate trial for Buckbeak, and he eventually
won the case, but he decided not to tell Hermione until a few days before the trial - while
Buckbeak's impending doom worried her, it would be downright distressing if she began making
notes, gathering evidence, and overall tiring herself unnecessarily.

So she did not know of the Hippogriff's fate. And when Draco had claimed in a loud voice,
meters away, that he just sent a letter off asking his father to buy the ax that's going to
take the beast's head off, unwashed, and the head itself, stuffed, she lost it.

He was proudly stating that Hippogriffs were a rare delicacy, and that he would be selling
the meat at a hundred Galleons per pound when she approached him and punched him in the face,
sending him to the ground and skidding a few feet. Crabbe and Goyle were quick to react, but
Hermione had already - wandlessly - stunned Crabbe, who was closer, and Goyle was quickly stunned
by Harry. Hermione slowly tied up her hair in a rubber band, removed her dark pink hoodie
sweatshirt and tossed it to Harry, and put up her fists.

"Stand up," she threatened quietly to the Malfoy spawn.

Draco scrambled to his feet. "You crazy Mudblood! When my father hears of
-"

"I'll take him down, too." She charged at him, faster that he could have seen
her coming, and socked him in the eye.

Draco screamed as he was hit, having never been hit before in his life. He almost fell to
the ground, but she had already grabbed the end of his tie, wrapping it around her hand carefully
until her knuckle was connected to the knot. She hoisted him back to his feet, and his jaw
connected to her fist once again.

He cried and mumbled a few words, but she couldn't hear them clearly enough. But she
knew that they were coming out too clearly for her tastes, so she hit him again, in the same spot.
When she heard a small crunch, she dropped him to the ground. She leaned over him and quickly
located his right front pocket of his robes for his wand. She pocketed the wand as a souvenir and
roughly kicked him in the side. When he grunted, she nodded to herself.

"You tell anyone, I snap this wand," she whispered roughly. "And I'll
make sure to come back to snap the other one. I'll finish the job Buckbeak started - I promise
that."

She walked over to Harry, who wordlessly handed over her sweatshirt. "Too
much?"

Harry shook his head. "Personally, I would have snapped the wand in front of him, and
shoved both broken ends up his arse."

"Language, Harry," she chuckled, and they both walked along, Harry disabling the
notice-me-not charm. "Besides, I don't think that's much of a punishment for him. I
don't want him to accidentally enjoy it."

Harry laughed loudly, and they stepped into the school together.

Back in the present, the duo chuckled at Draco's 'mysterious absence' from the
school. Madam Pomfrey was paid quite handsomely by Lucius to place him in the bed in the corner,
surrounded by curtains and wards, hidden from the rest of the wing. To this day, Poppy wondered if
the money was worth it, to hear Draco's voice complain and whine, but she still could not get a
name from him.

"Ms. Granger's first foray into the abyss of depravity," he laughed. "Still
one of my favorite pensieve memories."

Hermione smiled tenderly at him. "Thank you for the gift, by the way. I've always
wanted one of those."

"It still has all of Dumbledore's memories in there. The useful ones, anyway."

She nodded. "I checked out a few. It may not surprise you that he and the Dark Lord
Grindlewald were the best of friends."

Harry nodded. "More."

"Hm?"

"More than best friends."

"How can... don't answer that. Please don't answer
that."

"Like I said - only the important memories."

"I'm sorry you had to sift them out," she said genuinely, scratching through his
raven locks with both hands.

"I don't understand how a memory like that can't just combust into flames
the second it leaves his head."

Hermione chuckled. "I believe that should count as one more Life Debt owed,
Potter."

Harry smirked as he relaxed. "I'll collect on it soon enough."

Hermione blushed crimson, her legs shifting together. Harry, for one, loved his head tossed back
and forth as he was gently rocked, and he smiled wider at the sensation. The two sat in a
comfortable silence, lost in their own thoughts. Crookshanks was sleeping peacefully in the corner,
and Harry concentrated on the half-kneazle's breathing patterns for a moment, to regulate his
own breathing. When Hermione shifted, Harry remembered why he was there to begin with.

"You know," Harry sleepily murmured, "I worry about you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Why do you say that?"

"You look more tired every time I see you. Ever since we returned, you practically lock
yourself up here. Sally-Anne tells me that she has to deliver your homework back and forth, and you
only get up when you have to." He debated with himself for a few seconds. "It's over,
Hermione. We did it; he's dead. We can live now. I can understand wanting to escape
the public eye, but still... I worry about you."

"I leave the room every once in a while, Harry," she soothed, "there's
nothing to worry about."

Harry cracked an eye open, and she fidgeted against the intense stare. "You're wearing
the same jersey from when I last saw you."

"Sorry? When did you last see me?"

"I was under the cloak," he said, pointing to the silver sheet on the floor,
"looking at the list for the first time, a week ago. You walked by me, I suppose on your way
to the showers."

Hermione blanched. "Oh. I see." She cleared her throat, trying to slow down her
fiercely beating heart.

"I didn't follow you or anything," Harry noted, enjoying her reaction.

"A warning would be nice," she squeaked.

"Fine, then. I'll warn you if I want to follow you into the showers," he grinned.
"But I have to warn you now, Padma may not like it."

"Ah, yes, I heard from Parvati," Hermione smiled, thankful to get away from their
previous conversation, even if it was about Harry's love life. "She said something about a
list; I'm guessing it's the list you just showed me. How did that spark an
argument between you three, and then you asking Padma to Hogsmeade?"

"Actually, that wasn't the list at all." Harry reached down into his robes pocket
and pulled out a small scroll. "This is the list."

Hermione daintily unrolled the paper and glanced at the two names before she noticed the title.
"The Top Ten Most Beautiful Girls in Hogwarts by Harry James Potter? Really,
Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "It sounded like a great idea at the time..."

"Doesn't it always start that way?"

"...but it's a really stressful job, honestly."

"There's not many names here for it to be very stressful yet. Only two so far, starting
with number ten."

"I'm adding one per day."

"Why?"

"I like the suspense."

"Are you sure you just don't need 'more time' to form the list?" She asked
suggestively.

Harry smiled. "While it would be fun to see what they would do to try to convince me,
I've planned out the list since day one. You'd be surprised how many people take my word as
law, even something as stupid as a list."

"I'm not that surprised," Hermione said with mirth. "So, so far you have
Padma as ten, and Katie as nine. You started this list two days ago? How was the
reaction?"

"Well, so far, Padma demanded that I take her to Hogsmeade," Harry began with a fond
smile, "and Katie wants to be my back-up date."

"Impressive," Hermione smiled at him, genuinely happy for him. "While this may
lead to a clear abuse of power and an ego-trip you may never recover from, this might make for an
interesting social experience and I'm sure I will love the crash-and-burn
consequences."

Harry guffawed loudly at Hermione's prophetic proclamation. "Maybe," he countered,
"but I have a few cards left to be dealt before it all comes crashing down."

"Oh, really? What?"

"Not what. Who."

"Fine. Who, then?"

"You."

"Me? What can I do? I'm not bailing you out of your mess."

"Maybe not, but we both know you won't completely abandon me," Harry smiled, and
she shook her head at his not-misplaced arrogance.

"Not completely, no. What did you have in mind?"

"Simple. You go to Hogsmeade with me."

"Backup number two? I'm not that kind of girl."

Harry shrugged. "A guy can dream. But I wasn't asking like that. I want you to be under
the invisibility cloak. I want you to completely study her, watch her every movement, and at the
end, grade her."

"Grade her? You're making her my assignment?"

Harry shook his head. "No, she's my assignment. I need you to find out if she
would be more compatible to me."

"I'm not exactly a matchmaker. How can I - ?" She paused at his meaningful look.
This was what she had been avoiding. "Harry - "

"Don't give me that. You... you're the only girl that ever meant much to
me, 'Mione. You know that. I know that."

Hermione's hand trembled - her breath took a sharp intake. "Harry..."

"It's probably something you don't want to hear, but it's true." Harry
paused at the instant change in the atmosphere, but ultimately decided to press on. In for a
penny...

"You know there's something there. I don't know if it's something like
a sister, you mean too much to me for me to think of you as a relative." He looked up into her
eyes. "I'm going to live, with you by my side. The day that I die, you'll be holding
my hand, and you'll be the last face I see. We've been through so much together that
regardless of feelings, no matter who else you or I try to fall for, that much is going to happen,
I'm very sure of it. And after that night at the Yule Ball, when you told me that I should see
what else is out there for me, I refused to listen to you. You are damningly stubborn; I
didn't account for that. So I'll take your advice. Your decision is final. If you don't
think she's good for me, I'll let her down as gently as possible. If you decide that
she's great for me, then I'll be happy."

She looked misty as Harry sighed. "And if you decide that what happened between us was
meant to happen, and that I'm not a delusional nutcase with a slight incest complex,
then I'll be happier than you could ever know."

Harry slowly sat up in the bed. He wordlessly incinerated the males list and took his own list
from Hermione's limp hands. Without looking at it, he poked the paper. A bright flash later, he
put it back in her hand. "I want you to see if Padma is compatible to me. You know me better
than I know myself. I listened to you before when it comes to my choice on girls, and while I still
don't like your judgment, I'm not going to question it." He tiredly rubbed at his eyes
and stood. "It's getting late; I should go. Wouldn't want to get caught like this, do
we?" He gave a forced chuckle. He picked up his cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders.

A part of him had always wondered that with Voldemort gone, he might have been allowed to
actually live. They had taken him down together. He had assumed... he had assumed
that she would listen to reason, that his decision still stood.

Enough time had passed for her to think about it. He wasn't stupid. He knew her. He
knew what she felt for him. He could read her like a book. She was avoiding him. That much was also
obvious.

But he was desperate. He needed an answer for this. Before this went any further, she had to
know.

Now she knew. And tomorrow, this day will never be mentioned again. He'd accept that.
Because she knew.

"Harry, wait!" She yelled, before he crossed the doorway. He turned back to her, and
her lip trembled. "I... I'll try. I know. And I'll try. I promise. I will
try."

Harry nodded, and a small smile whisked past his lips. Before he could turn back around,
Hermione ripped the covers off the bed and she quickly got up, her long, flawless legs padding
across the floor to put him in one of her crushing hugs. Harry welcomed her. Her face burrowed into
his neck, and her hands hooked onto the back of his shoulders. Harry smelled in the scent of her
shampoo - vanilla - And clung to her.

"I'll always be there for you, Harry," She murmured into his chest. "I'll
always be with you. That will never change."

Harry nodded as he stroked her brunette curls. "And that's all I can ask for," He
whispered. And he was honestly okay with the thought. He had said it himself - They would be
together as long as they drew breath. No matter what happened in their personal lives.

They held on for minutes - taking comfort from each other, drawing the strength from each other
- and pulled back.

Cinnamon brown met emerald green, and Harry pressed his lips against her forehead softly.
Hermione closed her eyes and relished the feeling.

"Why?" She asked in a shuddering whisper.

Harry paused and pulled back. "Why, what?"

"Why do you think I'm s-special? Why... did you always think I'm special?
Ever since that night we became friends, you... you saved me. Ever since then, you've been my
only friend, the only friend I've ever needed. I-I don't know what the bloody hell I did to
make you think that I'm... someone good enough for you. It just..."

A rustle of paper distracted her. She felt it whiz past her ear into Harry's hand. He slowly
unfurled the sheet and showed it to her. "Here's the full list. Tell me what you
think."

Her eyes quickly focused on the first name on The List. She found herself wanting to laugh, but
she couldn't. It was too unbelievable - a joke taken to the extreme! "Harry, this is
ridic-"

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good." Harry croaked, and at the bottom of
the page, words started forming.

I swear on my life and magic that the order of names on this list is completely unbiased and
is, to the best of my knowledge, what I truly believe it to be.
Harry James Potter

Hermione stared at the words, then back at the name, trying to put the two together. She gazed
at her own name for what seemed like hours, and when Harry spoke again, her mind struggled to
process every word in her out-of-body experience. "I think you're special because you are.
I think you're the most loyal, trusting friend I could ever have in any
lifetime because you are. I think you are the most beautiful girl in Hogwarts, the most
beautiful girl on this earth, inside and out, because you are."

Harry took her free hand and placed it on his heart. "This happens," he breathed,
"Every time you're near me. I've never found a way to stop that. It just beats so
bloody fast I can barely hear myself talk to you. One day, I'll die of a
heart attack, I just know it. Being around you just isn't healthy, and that's coming from
me. It beats because you have it, 'Mione. It keeps beating because it thinks
that one day, you'll take it."

Hermione was silent. "I... I want it." She looked up to Harry's eyes
again. "I really do. I want it. I keep telling myself, I can't, I can't do it. But I
can. And, if it's not too late, I will. I don't think I've ever wanted
anything more in my life." She breathed heavily, her own heart deafening in her ears.
"And that's what scares me. It's always scared me. I keep thinking that one day
you'll figure it out; that I'm not good enough for you. Damn the fact that
you're the slayer of a damn Dark Lord, you claim that I'm the only one that can
see you for who you are; the real Harry. But there might be a time, a moment that you realize that
anyone can fall in love with you, anyone with half a brain could get to know you
if you let them, and they'll know that the Boy-Who-Lived can't hold a
candle to you. It took a troll for you to accept me as a friend. You don't
let people in. And when you finally do... when you finally do..."

"You will always be the first person that accepted me. You will always be the one
that comes to mind as the girl that I've always seen myself with. No girl will know the things
you know about me. No girl will do the things you've done and taken the steps
you've taken with me, for me, for us. We've practically taken on the
world together, 'Mione. What makes you think that this will go away? If this..."
he clasped his hand over hers, "...if this ever ends, this bond that we've forged
together, then there isn't a chance that anything else will matter."

Hermione looked at her hand clasped within Harry's larger ones, and couldn't believe how
perfect it all felt. She slowly slipped her hand from his grasp. She held it there for a
moment, before she lifted her hand to his cheek. She stroked his clean face delicately. "I
could never do this. I could never say those words. You... you're so brave, Harry. Since the
day I met you, I... you were always the reckless one, and yet it's never backfired. What did I
tell you once? First year? About there being more to being a great wizard than things like books
and... cleverness?"

Harry didn't need Occlumency to recall the memory. But first, he knew that they had been
prolonging what he had wanted to do for years. He slowly leaned closer to her. She met him halfway
as she stood on her toes and quickly pecked him on the lips. Before he could lean back, Hermione
quickly stretched her arms around his neck and melded her lips with his with a ferocity they
both didn't know she had.

'Friendship, bravery, and love, Harry. Don't forget that. You can't be stopped
if you have enough of each. Books? Cleverness? That makes you a theoretically great wizard, but
that doesn't help against the things you find yourself in. Friendship. I'd like to think
that you're my best friend. Bravery - you were always a brave wizard. I don't think
we're old enough to love, Harry. But you'll find it. I know you will. Maybe I - ... I
believe in you.'

Harry stepped back from her. "I believe in you, too, Hermione. More than anything
else."

Hermione's heart soared - she got the message loud and clear. She kissed him again, before
she quickly ran out of breath. She kept her hands linked around his neck as she rested the tip of
her chin on his chest, breathing heavily.

Harry's breathing was just as heavy as he pressed his forehead to hers. He gulped in a
lungful of air, and closed his eyes. "Any regrets so far?"

"No, I don't think so. And you?"

"No crash-and-burn consequences yet," he whispered, and they both chuckled
together.

This is an excerpt from my newest fanfiction in the works - The List - and yes, it is my
first attempt at a Harem story.

Please don't let that discourage you. Harmony is my forte, and this is only one of the
many Harmony moments I plan to put in the story. If the idea of a harem disgusts you, I might add
these excerpts to this 'story', or at least the Yule Ball excerpt.If it helps,
Hermione is defiantly the Alpha.

In the full story, all questions you asked in your head throughout this chapter will of
course be answered. Of course, I'll send you the answer if you need to know, and clarify it
better in the story.

It's not finished yet, and I only released this chapter because it's Hermione's
birthday. But when it's done, it'll be on rihaansfics-dot-com/thelist/.

Thank you for reading, please review. Check the reviews often for my reply, because I
don't think you get an alert.



2. The Perks of Being Harry Potter 
-----------------------------------



The following is all Harmony... up to a point, in which I cut the story off. And though this
story is centered on a certain Professor, there were choice scenes in which I had to add to my
little one-shot collection on Portkey. Please, enjoy.

-------------------------

“Mr. Potter? A word, please.”

The room practically paused as one. They seemed dumbfounded for a moment. Who knew that
Hogwarts' professors were aware of the latest gossip, such as who was on a list?

Hermione smirked at Harry, who practically groaned.

For the first time in weeks, the couple found themselves attending class, if only for that sense
of normalcy they had talked about having for a while, but never quite got until now. Harry had
finally coaxed Hermione out of her dorm room the next morning - spending the night in his own dorm
the previous night - and the two spent the day sitting next to each other in class. For the first
time in a very long time, they felt like two normal students that only had exams to worry about -
except they didn't really have to take any exams.

There really were a lot of perks when it came to vanquishing a Dark Lord, and they honestly
tried to take advantage of as many as they could, without going overboard.

The two began gathering their books slowly. The class filed out, some giving Harry painful,
sorrowful looks. He knew that while they probably were genuinely sorry for him, they only wanted to
be a fly on the wall in this inevitable confrontation. Of course, Draco was seething at him as he
left the dungeon classroom. He had every right to be angry, and Harry had every right to grin
cheekily at him. Sure, he felt nothing but nervous, but Draco didn't have to know that.

Hermione patted Harry's arm meaningfully and smiled in encouragement. He glanced at her and
pouted.

While Harry did spend the night in his dorm, he had returned to her dorm quite early. They had
spent most of dawn contemplating what to do at that point. While Hermione's fears were mostly
put to rest, she was still stubborn on the account that more people needed to get to know the real
Harry.

And then he told her the full details of what happened with Padma, and then Katie.

*“The moment I come to my senses, you start building a Harem,” Hermione laughed, a pure,
bright laugh that Harry really needed to hear at that moment. “Harry- I'm* not *mad. I*
told *you to do this. I'm not even mad at myself. Whatever happens with this, will happen. I
don't suggest you tell Padma or Katie what transpired last night, but if you decide that you
can trust them enough, tell Katie first that* I *came onto* you*. With Padma, I'll be
there, without the Cloak, later in your date. We'll see how comfortable she is around the two
of us.”*

*“And if she stays, you're going to fight her to the death?” Harry asked
skeptically.*

*“I'm a lover, Harry. Not a fighter.”*

*“Says the war veteran.” Harry smirked, before a rather dirty thought entered his mind. “So...
you're going to* love *her to death?”*

*Hermione smirked wryly. “Anyone who sees past the boy-who-lived deserves, at the least, my
friendship. Could I possibly entertain myself with the thoughts of sharing you? Yes. You're the
head of two houses, Harry - one day you were going to have to face facts. I would have considered
this my punishment, but it's really not. I told you to meet other girls, and you finally are.
I'm* proud *of you, Harry. And if they see you for you, and they like what they see, well,
it could open my eyes to some things.”*

*“This has to be a trap,” Harry muttered, falling on Lavender's bed to sit. “No way
you're actually serious about all of this!”*

*Hermione was still, chewing on her bottom lip, a clear sign of nervousness. Harry waited
patiently for her reply. “I... I've thought a lot about it, actually. At first, I thought I was
just jumping to crazy conclusions. But it made so much sense.” She paused, and let out a shaky
breath. “I already said it - it took a* troll *for us to be friends. And if that night never
happened... I don't want to speak ill of him, because I shouldn't, but I don't regret
one moment of that night.” She stared intensely at her twiddling thumbs. “Not one moment,” she
repeated to herself. “If anything different happened, everything would be different. You became my
friend, and I will always be thankful for that. But... if that night never happened, we would have
never been as close as we are now... and frankly, I don't think I would have wanted to ever
gotten to know you. But not for the reasons you think.*

*“Being such a bookworm, I probably would have believed the books* about *you over you
yourself. I've never read a book that was solely about you, so I could never have an opinion of
you. If we had never become as close, or if certain situations hadn't led me to that bathroom
that night, I would have eventually read books about you. And I would have judged you. And that
thought sickens me.*

*“In my `what-if' scenario,” she continued, more to herself than to him, “I would have
only associated with Neville more as a fellow classmate than an actual friend. You met him first,
and neither of us are outgoing people. I never would have talked to Luna. You* know *how that
interaction would have gone. I would have insulted her without even knowing it.*

*“I've told you this before... I only had my books before Hogwarts. They were my most
sincerely my best and only friends, and until you, I thought they were all I ever needed. I
don't have any doubt that I'd be just like that today. But...Parvati and Lavender are... I
really don't know how to tell you this...”*

*“Your friends?” Harry guessed, scrunching his eyebrows.*

*“Sometimes,” Hermione muttered to herself. “When they're not annoying me. But... they
themselves are... close friends.”*

*“Of course they are,” Harry said slowly. “They're never apart.”*

*“I mean, `close', Harry. Dumbledore and Grindelwald close.”*

*Harry made a face. “Oh. Terrible analogy. Good for them, I suppose. So they're what?
Dating?”*

*Hermione shook her head. “While they say that they aren't, they've never dated anyone
else. They started dating secretly beginning of last year, and since I'm their dorm mate, they
decided to tell me first, to help them hide their secret. Marissa and Fay knows as well.
They've probably been sleeping over in the Shrieking Shack the entire night. I told them it was
a good place to... scream.”*

*Harry cocked their head to the side. “A year and a half-long secret? Hidden by the gossip
queens of Hogwarts? Figures.” Harry tilted his head again, as if visually trying to see the point
of this conversation from all angles. “So how does this relate to...? Oh.” He was silent for a
moment. “Wow.”*

*Her cheeks burned with shame. “No funny ideas, Harry. Let me explain first... though
you're not far from the truth. Since it's not a secret in this dorm, they sometimes
don't bother with Silencing Charms. Apparently, I was the only one that never complained about
the noise. Last year, they made me an offer.” She still couldn't muster enough strength to look
up at him. “If I wasn't... I mean, if I never knew you... you see, I doubt I'd be their
best friend in* any *reality... but I can still appreciate...”*

*“That they're very attractive,” Harry smirked. “I'm beginning to regret our
friendship, Hermione, if* this *was a possibility for you.”*

*The brunette witch stammered for a moment, finally looking up. “Harry! I... well, I'm not
saying that I would have accepted their offer to - to* join *them! I'm saying that it was
a possibility!”*

*Harry shifted minutely on the bed. The same bed that Lavender and Parvati...*

*He quickly got up and moved over to Hermione's bed, his cheeks flushed. “Hermione, the
fact that you're considering it in* this *reality means that you would have
accepted.”*

*“That's not the point,” Hermione said quickly. “Or maybe it is. I don't know. But
what I* do *know is I've never been... attracted to anyone. Maybe it was the fact that
I've always been with you, and I've never paid attention to anyone else, but I've never
really had fantasies about anyone but you since I hit puberty when I was thirteen.” She felt Harry
grab her hand, encouraging her to continue. She needed it. “But after that day, I - I had a few
more things to th-think about.”*

*He squeezed her hand. “Perfectly understandable. So, you're telling me that you have some
fantasies that you've never explored, and you`re thinking about it again, now that you have the
perfect opportunity?”*

*Hermione expelled her breath, and nodded. “You're smarter than I give you credit for,
Harry.”*

*“You're more conservative than I give you credit for,” Harry muttered. She looked up at
him in surprise. “Hermione, you're just as aware as I am that I was a very daft bloke when it
came to romance and girls, at least until the beginning of fourth year. I approached you, and you
turned me down. So why not take the offer from Parvati and Lavender?”*

*Hermione grimaced at the mention of her rejection of Harry. There was no malice in his voice,
and that just made it hurt all the more for her. “I don't know - punishing myself, maybe? Maybe
I was holding up some false hope that you didn't give a damn what I thought, break down the
door, and take me - ”*

*She gasped and covered her mouth. Harry's jaw went slack. After a few seconds, his mouth
started working again.*

*“Well, that makes a lot of sense. You once had a fierce love for authority. Dominance, you
might say.” He slowly pulled Hermione's hand away from her mouth and tenderly kissed the
knuckle. “The temptation was there, certainly. But in the end, I decided I could wait it out. And
it paid off. Not the way that you expected, but...”*

*“Nice to see you're making jokes at my misery,” she commented in a light tone, her face
still a pinkish hue.*

*“Of course not, `Mione. I'm just berating you for not shagging those two
senseless.”*

*Hermione abruptly stood up, and dragged Harry along with her. “And now that the same
opportunity arose for you, what are you going to do now?”*

*He looked particularly nervous to answer, and he had a passing thought that maybe he should
summon back his armor. “Erm... make the right decision?”*

*Hermione smiled sweetly. “And what would the right decision be, Harry?”*

*“I should... ask you to make the decision?”*

*She laughed uproariously at his answer. When she was finally able to calm herself, she leaned
up to kiss him on the cheek. “Just let it happen, Harry. Finish your list. I'm still waiting to
see that crash and burn I promised you, and I've rarely been wrong.”*

*“And if I add your name under my own name as a co-creator...” Harry drawled, smirking as
Hermione swatted his shoulder.*

*“You wouldn't!”*

*“On the contrary; it brings a bit of legitimacy to the list a bit, don't you think?
Co-written by the smartest witch of our generation?”*

*“You should have thought of having me co-write the list* before *you put me as the first
name* on *the bloody list, Harry. Besides, I'm a bookworm; I'm not a particularly good
judge on beautiful women.”*

*“And as you have just proved, Miss Granger, it's always the quiet ones....” She blushed
at his gaze and walked away, Harry catching up with her, as they went to the Great Hall for
breakfast.*

“I don't think you're in trouble, Harry,” Hermione muttered to her best friend
encouragingly, rubbing his arm. While they weren't going to publicly come out as a couple yet,
they acted like the close friends they always were.

And Harry and Hermione had to admit, from an outsider viewing in, they were always quite
close.

Harry nodded resolutely, and turned to the teacher in the front of the class, cleaning the
papers off of her desk and into her briefcase.

“See you at lunch?” he muttered. Hermione nodded, understanding their secret message; he had
just given her the option to stick around with the invisibility cloak or not.

“I had a big breakfast,” she replied, and she smirked when he groaned at the implication. He was
on his own.

Hermione quickly grabbed hers and Harry's books, and left the classroom; Harry watched her
leave, mentally begging her to come back.

“Really, Mister Potter, I'm sure you could easily take me on by yourself,” Professor Black
chuckled, watching the entire exchange.

Harry looked over to her and smiled nervously. “Sure, but not easily.”

She looked more than amused. “Why are you scared, Harry? Because of that list?”

He gulped. He was pretty sure, but the confirmation was still scary. “Maybe, Professor
Black.”

“Narcissa,” she deadpanned. “Just because you think I'm angry at you, doesn't mean you
get to undo *months* of training you to call me Narcissa. You're *not* going to
compliment me by calling me beautiful, and immediately make me feel old.”

Harry leaned back on a desk, watching her carefully. “Sorry, Cissy.”

The blonde smirked. “See, if you wrote *that* on your list, *then* I'd be angry.
Then I'd completely crack open that protective cup of yours, that I can only assume that you
have summoned by now.”

He subconsciously squeezed his legs tighter and flushed. *She* was the one that had
recommended it, and the basilisk skin armor. “Not yet, no. I've been on edge lately. Since I
started that list I've been getting *way* too many positive reactions, and I'm bound
to run out of luck soon.”

Cissy chuckled. “And you thought *I'd* break that streak? I *should* be
offended.”

He shrugged. “Honestly? I thought the first two would break the streak. It's getting a
little scary, actually...”

“What's happened so far?” She asked curiously, sitting back on her own oak desk. “And please
use details, Mr. Potter.”

Harry shook his head. “Sorry; I don't kiss and tell, Professor Black.”

“Kissing? Now I *must* hear about it!” She almost squealed, and Harry had the urge to hide
his blush in his hands. Narcissa paused. “Now, if you think I'm going to continue *that*
streak, then let me alleviate your fears now - *not* going to happen.”

Harry laughed. “Thanks for the warning. Besides, after you threatened to hex off my bits, I
don't think I'd want to let you that close.”

“Like you'd turn me away if I wanted to *be* that close, Harry,” she teased.

“It would be for the greater good. Besides, you have a reputation to keep up. Wouldn't want
to get caught in a predicament with the Golden Boy, would you?”

Narcissa scoffed. “Please. I was planning on breaking the news to my son over Christmas. Poor
boy still thinks the Dark Lord may come back one day.” She flexed her right-hand fingers
surreptitiously, showing off her new snake-skin gloves.

“So how does Nagini feel on you?” Harry asked rhetorically, grinning at her.

Narcissa looked away from the glove and focused on the wizard in front of her. “I know I'm
not supposed to accept presents from students, but these are just *adorable*, and they feel
heavenly.”

“You deserve them,” Harry kicked the floor as he sat on the table. “I probably would have
ignored the snake altogether if you didn't find out about... well, you know.”

Narcissa nodded in understanding. Those stupid Horcruxes were literally the ultimate crux for
her. She was the spearhead of the group that led to the termination of all of the Horcruxes; well,
the research committee. She shuddered at the thought of doing the actual tasks.

While Hermione had done the research on the vessels that had the Horcruxes, and the bits of his
soul themselves, Narcissa had discovered their existence, and had done the research of their
locations. She was the curse-breaker for the protections around the locations, and using that key
magical signature, she was able to more easily locate where the next Horcrux was, and even where
Tom was at all times. For instance, the family ring in the Gaunt house, and its unique magical
signature protecting that ring, led her to the Cave on the seaside, where the fake locket was
located - luckily, she was also able to check if a Horcrux was there or not - There wasn't, so
she assumed correctly that it had been moved.

Still, it was truly Harry and Hermione that had done most of the work, though their close
network of friends had all contributed in some way, her niece being one of them, her cousin being
another.

“I wonder how Draco will take the news.” Harry wondered, picturing Draco getting the worst
Christmas present ever.

“The news of me being involved with Voldemort's death, or the fact that I'm flattered by
my name on your list?” she smirked.

Harry shrugged innocently. “I have no qualms against him getting two presents this Christmas.”
He refrained from adding that he wished it was his last. Draco really hadn't been the same
since after the incident with Hermione, but he was still annoying as all hell. Of course, his
mother always kept him in check - she never bothered to keep that a secret, but made sure to claim
that it was not proper Pureblood or Slytherin etiquette. She had done the same to the rest of his
house, seeing as she was Head of Slytherin, and she was mostly successful. Harry was thankful for
that, and it was one of the few reasons Harry let Draco live.

The others, however, were fair game, and she knew that. They would have their time one day.

“He deserves coal,” she muttered bitterly, and Harry laughed. “He wanted to kill you today, you
know; more than usual, at least. He said it out loud this time. He went to me this morning and told
me the news, and he was confused at my lack of a seething rampage of a reaction. I told him I would
deal with you, and if you touched him, he would be one step closer to disownment.” She paused,
frowning. “Harry, I know that down the road, if Draco doesn't change his ways, then I'm
afraid you'll have no choice. I really tried raising him right, but his father wanted none of
it - his son is his *clone*. I can't see a bit of me in him at all.”

He nodded. “That's a good thing. When I finally do, because I doubt he's ever going
change, I don't want to picture *you* when I do it.”

She waved him away. “Picture me or don't picture me; whichever is less painful for him.”

He nodded. He knew that she had just given him permission, if Draco ever stepped out of line. He
almost wanted to ask how she would feel when that day came; she had said several times before that
she never had much love for him, but he was still her son.

But she almost felt giddy when Hermione killed her ex-husband.

-

It was just after the Philosopher's Stone had `gone missing', and Professor Quirrell had
escaped - Headmaster Dumbledore had been blamed for the entire incident and subsequently terminated
by the Board of Governors. He had put up a fight, of course, but the decision wasn't
reversed.

When Narcissa Malfoy applied to be the new Potions Mistress, Headmistress McGonagall was faced
with her first big decision. While Narcissa was more than qualified, Dumbledore had made it
undeniably clear that Professor Snape was to keep his job. After a bit of consideration, she
decided to move Severus to his dream profession - Defense Against the Dark Arts - and ultimately
gave Mrs. Malfoy the position of Potions Mistress. Since Remus had just turned down the job offer
of DADA professor, she felt that she had made the right move. Dumbledore had disagreed, but the
decision still stood - she was the Headmistress after all, and his suggestions only went so
far.

Mrs. Malfoy had applied for the job to keep tabs on the diary that had been slipped in the
youngest Weasley's bag by her husband, and had kept a close eye on her throughout the first
semester. Several weeks into the semester - the night before Halloween - she carefully followed
Ginny to the first floor girls' toilets. When she saw the wall open up, she carefully
retreated, her job done. She would investigate the wall later, for her own studies.

She had nothing against Muggle-borns, though she did see it as unfair that there were some
people that were born with magic, and could interact with both worlds flawlessly. The Pure-bloods
were stuck with their own small, inept communities and were ignorant of what was out there for them
to discover. The Muggle-borns and Half-bloods literally had the best of both worlds, and while she
had tried to venture out to a muggle shopping mall, or even a boutique, she always felt out of
place, even though she had studied their customs from their library.

Even though she had the magic, Narcissa knew that her world was somehow the more mundane.

She pulled out a water bottle and began to drink; all that sneaking around made her parched.
When her bottle was half-empty, she heard a small `meow' and spotted a cat sitting in front of
her, her yellow eyes piercing.

Narcissa was familiar with the patrolling cat, Mrs. Norris, and she scowled at the small animal.
Filch had to be around somewhere, and that creepy bastard was just someone she didn't want to
deal with. But when no one came, she calmed. Mrs. Norris stayed sitting, staring up at her.
Narcissa didn't know what to do with the nosy cat, until she tried to take another sip, and saw
her oval eyes follow the bottle slowly.

Feeling generous, now that her task was done, Narcissa tipped the bottle over and poured some
water on the floor, making sure to look out for others. It gave her a calming effect, watching the
cat lap at the water, thanking her with her yellow eyes. After watching her drink for a while,
Narcissa had a devious idea. She slowly poured more water from the bottle, watching the cat back
away from the growing puddle, but never losing her stride in drinking it.

She figured it that if she was nourishing Filch's cat, then he should pay her back by
cleaning up the mess.

The cat meowed in appreciation and Narcissa capped the empty bottle and sauntered away, pleased
with her goodwill quota for the month.

And then the cat was petrified, still drinking the water, along with Mr. Filch, who was mopping
up the puddle a few feet from her, staring hard into the water. Mrs. Malfoy was left scratching her
head with confusion - she knew it had something to do with the diary, but what did Ginevra do?

Obviously, that mysterious entrance somehow led her to a basilisk. That much was clear. The Dark
Lord was quite fond of snakes, as he could talk to them, according to her husband. And, now that
she thought about it, the girl seemed to speak in a serpentine way as she opened the wall, speaking
to the sink, instead of mindless whispering that she originally thought it was. And a basilisk was
one of the few animals in the world that could petrify or kill, and the puddle's reflection led
to a petrifying. According to the message on the wall - “The Chamber of Secrets has been opened -
Enemies of the heir, beware” written in blood, combined with Hagrid's missing chickens - it was
pretty simple putting the rest of the pieces together, having attended the school when it was a two
decade-old fading rumor.

But how did the Weasley girl *control* it? Would a basilisk really just take the commands
of any person who could speak the language, or did the Dark Lord actually take over the body of the
smallest Weasley? Did she just let it free? Narcissa shuddered at the thought. While the Dark Lord
had prejudices, she doubted a snake would judge. She was sure each human had their own unique
scent, and it probably could have been given commands out of gratitude since the girl had
effectively freed the beast, it still worried her.

She considered telling the Headmistress, but immediately turned away the idea. She wasn't
stupid.

The very next day, she told McGonagall that there were twenty magical creatures in recorded
history that had the power to petrify, and she would get started on studying them.

The next week, she went to Minerva's office and they perused through her own research
material for the Gorgon, and its magical effects. They had decided that it could not have done so,
since the only way the creature could travel through the school without being noticed - pipes - was
impossible for a Gorgon, as they would *never* use such unclean methods of travel, and while
there were many secret hallways in the school, there were paintings *everywhere* for a reason.
As it turns out, the mysterious beast, however many there were, could completely freeze the
portraits like a simple muggle painting. Unfortunately for them, there was no known cure for that.
They could be animated again, but they would return as a blank slate, no memories attached.

They decided to continue those secret meetings and brainstorm each animal, just in case it got
any worse than Filch and his pet, and the six portraits.

Nine weeks later, when she was halfway through her weekly reports to the Headmistress, Severus
confronted her. She revealed nothing - she was a Slytherin, after all - and he sneered that
whatever she was up to, it would be wise not to stop it. Six weeks ago, Colin Creevey, a Gryffindor
Muggle-born, had been petrified, staring through the lens of his now broken camera, all film
destroyed. Two weeks previous, Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff Muggle-born, and
Nearly-Headless Nick, the Gryffindor Ghost, were both petrified, and Severus was still very curious
to see where this would lead. Narcissa now suspected that the snake knew exactly who to attack
somehow, but she had already started her reveal, and it would be suspicious if she quit now. It
wasn't like McGonagall could do anything, when she *did* find out about the basilisk. What
would she do, close down the school? If she did, then she would certainly be terminated by the
pureblood board of Governors, that her husband happened to be a part of, and replaced by Severus,
who happened to be the new Deputy Headmaster. How he got that position, she had no idea. While she
was quite enjoying her job as a professor, she wouldn't exactly mourn the loss of it as she
would inevitably be let go under his command.

The next week, as she prepared to gather her notes for the Basilisk - it would be much too odd
to reveal it as the very last beast - Lucius had Dobby ask her to make an appearance in the
Slytherin Common room - something about their son. He was too nervous to get any information out of
him. Before she could reach out to Dobby, he quickly apologized and popped away. She found it odd -
her elf knew that she would rather have him apparrate her than have to walk.

*And then she knew.*

She quickly gathered her research material in a small bag, before throwing some green soot into
her fireplace. She calmly told Minerva that it was a basilisk and that she would be there shortly,
and before the Headmistress could respond, she closed the connection. She grabbed her pocket mirror
before she left.

Classes were in session, so she waded through the halls quickly, using a mirror to look around
each corner. She had no intention of going to McGonagall's office, which she *could* have
done through the fireplace. She was going to stash her books by the gargoyle, and leave the school.
She would have to extend her free period a little longer, unfortunately.

“Professor Malfoy?” A voice called out. Narcissa checked her compact and turned the mirror
carefully, seeing no one.

“Reveal yourself,” she said stiffly, and she wasn't sure if she was pleased or frustrated to
see Harry Potter removing his Invisibility Cloak. “Mister Potter. Skipping class, are we?” She
refrained from mentioning the illegal shawl. She shuddered to think if Draco discovered his rival
had one of those. They were *bloody* expensive, and frankly, her son had not proved to her
that he was trustworthy enough to have such a cloak.

Harry shook his head, glancing around. “Extra credit for McGonagall. Looking for the creature
that's petrifying everyone.”

She slowly turned around to face him, her left eyebrow arched. Harry sighed. He struggled for a
moment, before looking over his shoulder, then back to her. “I hear things... *voices*...
saying that it must kill. In the walls. Every time it's happened, there was an incident. I told
Headmistress McGonagall, and she told me to alert her when I hear it again. This is the busiest
hour of the week, so it's the only time when the hallways are empty.”

Narcissa nodded, somewhat perplexed. “You mean to say - you're a Parselmouth.”

He looked surprised for a moment, then nodded stiffly. “Yes. And you're one of the very few
people in this school that knows that.” He let that sink in for a moment. She knew that if that
information leaked out, there would only be one obvious culprit. “It makes sense now that you say
it. I only found out that what I have is a unique gift last year.” His tone took a more sinister
one. “Basilisks were on the short list of creatures that Hermione and I believed were responsible.
But somehow, you knew exactly what's attacking the school.”

Narcissa held up her hands. “Easy, Mister Potter, I'm not a suspect here. I just told the
Headmistress a few minutes ago that I was heading over there to give her my notes on the beast.”
She held up her bag, something Professors usually didn't walk around carrying. “I have reason
to believe that it may be a Basilisk, and I think you can confirm it.”

“Then why are you not heading in that direction?” Harry interrogated further, stepping a bit
closer. While he was only a second year, he was quite intimidating.

She paused.

Why *was* she going in the opposite direction? Yes, she was distracted, but she knew and
remembered more about this castle than anyone she had attended school with. If she had actively
tried to get lost, she would know where she was.

And she knew where she was right now. She was pretty close to the Hospital Wing. And just like
that, it all made sense. She was going to go kidnap her new friend - to steal her from the clutches
of the monster, ensuring that the beast didn't attack her again. But Narcissa Malfoy would
never say that out loud.

She thought quickly. “I'm collecting my son, of course. I believe he has Charms right now
with the Ravenclaws. I'm not keeping him in the school with a Basilisk on the loose.” She was
lucky that Flitwick's classroom was close by as well. She had no intentions of picking up her
son - Lucius wouldn't kill his heir.

“He deserves it,” he muttered, clearly loud enough for her to hear, and she surprised him by
chuckling.

“Your rivalry with him amuses me,” She admitted, closing her mirror. “It's somewhat
embarrassing to see you upstage him at every confrontation, yet he approaches you as if he's
your equal rival. Tell me the truth here, Mister Potter; is my Draco a mere nuisance to you?”

Harry rubbed the back of his head, but he looked far from embarrassed. “It's really not his
fault. I mean, sure, if I didn't have giant beasts on my tail, I might have seen him as a
threat, but he's not a *Basilisk*. He's just a bug that I wouldn't bother stepping
on.” He smirked. “Not that I'm trying to sound arrogant, of course.”

Narcissa laughed. “Of course,” she replied, her perception of the Golden Boy of Gryffindor
breaking apart. She held the bag closer to herself, and she remembered why she was here. It was
time to change that plan slightly. “Would you like to accompany me to McGonagall's office? You
need a mirror with you.”

Without a thought, Harry pulled out his wand and conjured a small mirror. Narcissa didn't
comment on the nonverbal magic, but was impressed nevertheless. Harry stared hard at her. She
seemed to know what he expected.

“I won't say a word.” Narcissa promised. “Besides, if my son found out, he'd cry himself
to sleep, and frankly, I don't want to go back to those days. Well, do you need an escort
anyway? Buddy system and all....”

Harry nodded his appreciation. “I could use an extra set of eyes,” he agreed, and they began
walking to the Headmistress's office. At the first corner, Narcissa used her mirror.

“More like a shield,” Mrs. Malfoy muttered, as they walked down the hallway, her in the lead.
When Harry made to move in front of her, she gently put her arm in front of him. “Boy-Who-Lived or
not, I'm still your professor. *I'm* supposed to protect *you*.”

“I haven't felt very *safe* since I got to this school,” Harry muttered, and before
Narcissa could question him, he froze. “It's here.”

“Go to McGonagall,” she muttered darkly, looking around for the slightest move.

“I'm not - ”

“Go, Potter,” she hissed, thrusting her bag in his hands. “If I don't look directly at it,
nothing will happen to me,” she lied. “Bring McGonagall back here, but be wary. When I see it,
I'll shout. You obviously have good ears, because I can't even hear a whisper yet. I will
lead the beast elsewhere. Follow the sound of my voice when I stop screaming, and we'll all
come out of this fine. *Go*!”

Harry paused, and against his better judgment, turned and ran the direction they were coming
from, signifying that the beast was in the direction they were supposed to be going.

Narcissa let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She knew he was a very bright
kid. His grades were almost on par with his friend, the great Hermione Granger, and she had sworn
that he was going to see right through her bluff, even though he had a very limited knowledge on
Basilisks, other than they were large snakes that petrified with a gaze.

Well, the plan was changed slightly, yet again. It looked as if she was going to be petrified
today. The Basilisk had clearly tracked her down, and it wasn't going to stop until she had
left the school. She wasn't going to risk students' lives by hiding in a classroom. She was
too far to double back to her chambers, and much too far from the outside. Besides, in a deserted
outside, she wasn't even positive that the beast wouldn't follow her until she reached
Hogsmeade. And she wasn't going to follow Potter - she, as a professor, leading him somewhere
was one thing, but actually being seen helping the boy would put a death sentence on her head long
after today.

She grimaced. Yes, she was going to be petrified.

But... what then? Lucius was quite plainly aware that she knew there was a basilisk behind it
all. He was counting on her finding a way to get petrified instead of dying. Was he teaching her a
lesson? Before, she could give less of a damn about his intent, but now... was he really that
methodical? She was expecting that he wanted it to kill her. But he knew how smart she was... so
what was his game? Kill her petrified body himself? Take it and hide it? If a well-respected
pureblood witch was found dead or petrified in the halls, the school would close faster than she
could drop.

So... yes, that made sense. Kill her, hide the body; everyone would assume that *she* was
the heir of Slytherin, working in the shadows from this point on. It would make sense - her first
cousin and sister being the infamous Sirius Black and Bellatrix Lestrange.

She heard a small whisper, and a distinct hiss, but she stood her ground. It would be unwise of
her to panic *now*.

Narcissa grimaced. Her husband was so incredibly *stupid*. There was never just one route
to one place in this school - hence Potter running the opposite direction to the Minerva's
office - and Lucius had assumed that she was going to take the easiest route to the Slytherin
Common Room, blindly trusting her *dear husband* to not have an unfortunate accident prepared
on the way. He had no guarantee that he would be the first to find her, especially if she
wasn't where she was supposed to be, now on the other side of the school. He had essentially
ruined his own plans. Not only that, but he had unintentionally connected himself to this case,
seeing as he was visiting the school the same day his wife was attacked, delivering a bag of
information to the Headmistress on the threat to the school. He had probably visited the littlest
Weasley himself and blackmailed her into ordering the Basilisk to track her scent - probably a
hairbrush from her chambers or something - and thought nothing of it afterwards, his only remaining
task comprising of making sure she was at the right place at the right time.

She was smarter than him. She knew that, and he struggled to accept that. But while her husband
had her cornered, she would give him one last message that she was superior to him in every
conceivable way - her last act of defiance to him.

She quickly pulled out her wand and compact mirror.

She scowled. It would be so easy to just cast a sonorous charm and alert the school to her
imminent demise. But she knew the hell she would pay, not from her husband, but the rest of the
Pureblood community. At least they couldn't attack her this way. She rolled up her sleeve and
cast a charm on her arm. She grimaced in pain at the words etching itself into her once flawless
arm.

She pocketed her wand and held the compact mirror in her trembling hand, still unopened. She
grasped it tightly to herself, the cool metal trying to calm her burning nerves, until she banished
it wordlessly.

Narcissa smiled to herself at the small victory; she had finally done wandless magic.

Harry had left only thirty seconds ago, but it felt like an eternity as she waited for her
impending doom. She scratched her sweltering arm absently. She was a patient woman; she had proved
that when she married Lucius. She wanted wealth and infinite materials for research, and he wanted
a trophy wife that would provide him an heir. After they both got what they wanted, they left each
other alone, and she was almost perfectly content with that.

And as she turned around to face an empty hallway, Narcissa just wished she could see the look
on his face when he realized that she had so critically beaten him in a game that probably took
weeks for him to plan, in just a few seconds.

She put the fate of what was to happen next in young Harry Potter's hands, confident that
he'd find her first. For some reason, she felt no need to worry about that.

As a large snake head rounded the corner, completely silent, Narcissa smiled.

*`The Queen of Slytherin - Forevermore.'*

-

“Hello, Professor. Welcome back to the world of the living.”

Narcissa slowly blinked her eyes, and saw Hermione Granger standing above her. Something went
terribly wrong. Or terribly right. “How... Miss Granger? Where am I?”

“Right now, you're in a secret room, that's decided to take the form of the Slytherin
Common Room, I assume, for this evening. I must say, it looks a bit drab, if not a bit pricey
looking furniture....”

Ah. So terribly good, then. Her head ached with the speed of her thought process. “It's the
Malfoy Manor Sitting Room,” she muttered, closing her eyes again.

“That explains the Chandelier,” she reasoned, and she seemed very pleased with herself - not
that Narcissa could see. “Thank you for the dying message on your arm, by the way.
*`Ginevra's Diary.'* Harry and Headmistress McGonagall have gone to collect the diary
right now. Don't worry; she has no idea of your previous demise. The official story is when you
were on your way to McGonagall's office, a crying Ginny ran into you and told you that she did
some very bad things. I heard that your husband was visiting today, and I'm guessing that he
arranged this?”

Her brain began to stop hurting, but the pieces were still being fitted together. “So... I'm
alive... and I was *dead*?” She cracked an eye open, and Hermione nodded the affirmative. And
her thoughts ended there. She was completely lost.

Hermione took pity on her. “Don't worry, I don't think anyone would have guessed how we
brought you back. Didn't have to kill anyone - well, not for this, specifically, but Harry had
to kill Quirrell last year for us to ultimately be here today.” She held up a large, intimidating
syringe. “You probably don't know what this is, but it's harmless. It helps introduce
liquids into the body, usually the bloodstream. Works faster than ingestion, and as you've
probably noticed, the only method of taking the liquid through death, while using a spell that
artificially pumps the blood. Your heart has been beating independently for about half an hour now.
My parents usually use it for Procaine - they're dentists, you see - but in this instance, it
brought you back to life. We had to heal the writing on your arm, though. Fascinating spell you
used, to avoid the vein and arteries.”

“But... what could possibly bring me to life?” She groggily asked, blinking out the sleep in her
eyes. “And how long have I been... dead?”

“Only about an hour,” Hermione smiled softly at the professor. “And I think I gave you enough
hints that you figured it out by now. Harry and I had managed to liquefy the Philosopher's
Stone this past summer. Thank you for being our first test subject. It might be too early to say,
but I think that barring any more accidents, due to the liquid flowing in your bloodstream, there
is a possibility that you are immortal.”

-

“While I may have the advantage of being forever youthful,” Narcissa changed the subject to the
main topic, smirking at her young friend, “I don't think I can be called one of the most
beautiful in the school.”

Harry almost snorted. “Really? I thought you were one of the smartest in your generation?”

Her eyebrows rose. “One of them? I had *the highest scores* of my Generation, only
challenged by your mother. Respect is appreciated, Potter.”

“Yes ma'am,” Harry smirked. “Or should I say Mistress.”

Narcissa shrugged. “`Mistress' will suffice, thank you. Once again, *ma'am* makes
me feel old. *Madame* is okay. Occasionally I will be referred to as `The Immortal Lady
Black', but only at my discretion.”

“Fair enough,” Harry agreed seriously. “Least I could do for saving your life.”

Narcissa waved it off. “Should've thought about that before you saved my life.”

The two laughed. Never in a million years, would he ever guess that a laugh so beautiful would
come from the mother of Draco Malfoy. He calmed himself enough to ask, “Well, if you aren't mad
at me -”

“I'm not,” She said honestly.

“Then why did you ask me to stay after class? Right now you've got Hermione thinking
thoughts she really shouldn't right now.” She flushed.

“I didn't mean to make you two uncomfortable,” she stressed, hopping off her table. “While I
did keep you here to thank you, it's not like I'm going to shag your brains out in
appreciation.”

Harry didn't know whether to be relieved or just a bit disappointed. Granted, he was happy
that her intentions were pure, as they always were, he'd come to realize years ago. But...
well, she wasn't put on the list purely for her personality and smarts, though those were
important factors as well.

“If anything, I'd do it because you want me to, not because of some stupid list.” Harry
looked up at her in shock. “It's called a Life Debt, Harry. If you ever want to finally collect
that debt, and use it for *that*... well, I can think of a way so you won't waste it on
something so... obtainable.”

Harry blinked a few times. “Hermione gave you the injection, though.”

Narcissa shook her head. “It doesn't matter who gave me the injection, what matters is the
person who found me and supplied the Stone to begin with.”

“Both of us,” Harry smiled. “And you've more than repaid us, Cissy. None of this
would've been possible without you.”

Narcissa smiled. “So noble, Harry. It's something you really need to work on. That could be
considered a weakness.”

“I only show that to my friends,” Harry said seriously. “You're my friend, Narcissa;
don't forget that.”

“And I couldn't have a better one,” She said sincerely, “Hermione as well. It's good to
have you two back in class, Harry. My niece has been looking for you to visit the outside. You
haven't left the building in a while, have you?”

Harry shook his head. “I guess we have been rather... dormant.” She saw Narcissa's devilish
grin and cut her off. “Not like that! In our own dorms!”

“That's a waste,” she muttered, her fantasies shattered. “The two of you still haven't
figured it out yet?”

Harry was hesitant to speak.

“It took us long enough, didn't it?”

Narcissa let out a girlish squeal as Hermione appeared out of nowhere. “*Miss Granger!*
Five points from Gryffindor!”

Hermione look amused as she absently folded the cloak. “For what? Scaring the piss out of
you?”

Narcissa calmed her beating heart. She breathed deep. “Almost; if you had actually done that,
there would be a *hell* of a lot more points taken. But, we'll just settle for you scaring
me.”

Hermione smiled. “Worth it.”

“How many points will it take *not* to be *worth it?*” She wondered, and
Hermione's smile faltered. Narcissa then recalled what she said earlier. “So you two finally
did it? When's the wedding?”

Harry pretended to be very interested in the décor or the room, and Hermione glared at him for
abandoning her to answer the question. He smirked. “You don't want to hear my reply, Hermione.”
When she was still silent, he looked back to Narcissa. “As soon as I finish my supposed
*conquests*. Hermione's convinced that I need to shag half the school before I can enter a
steady relationship.”

“Harry!” she screeched, mollified at his words. “That is *not* what I said!”

“Well,” Narcissa broke the silence after a moment, “what did you say?”

Hermione struggled to find the right words. “I- I erm... I don't know, really. I mean what
with Padma and Katie so far, it really looks like Harry is finally realizing that there...I
don't know how to say this.”

“That there are *options*,” Harry finished for her. Hermione didn't move. “'Mione,
remember when you said I'm smarter than you give me credit for?”

Hermione nodded. When Harry said nothing, just looking at her expectantly, she was a bit lost.
“What, Harry?”

Narcissa chuckled. “He doesn't want to say it out loud.”

Hermione looked at her for a moment, before realization dawned. Her eyes widened. “But... I -
it's true! How could *you* think that I'm *dumber* than you give me credit
for?!”

Harry glared at her. “You don't think I know that I have options? Hermione, I get
*thousands* of letters a year! I get *pictures*! *Worn* bras and panties! You
wouldn't *believe* the things that Hedwig and the elves have had to deliver! While I'm
busy spending the entire day with *you* that day each year, Tonks has to sift through the
*hundreds* of *animated* Valentine's Day cards!”

Narcissa gave an unladylike snort. “That's why the poor girl takes the day off from her
duties every Valentine like she has a hot date.”

Hermione looked embarrassed. Harry continued. “Hermione, you're my best friend, and I've
made it a habit to always tell you the honest truth. So here it is: while there are consequences
for being Harry Potter, there are quite a few perks, and I love *most* of them. The fame, I
could do without. The adulation, I appreciate. The fangirls? It's quite flattering, but
that's something I've never taken advantage of. A part of me has always wanted to, but
that's just not who I am. I don't want to be like Lockhart.”

Narcissa snorted quietly. It was her honest opinion that the git got what he deserved a couple
of years ago.

“I'm not daft, Hermione. I know that I'm one of the most sought after wizards in the
world. I knew that when I found out how much gold I had in my vault.” He stepped closer to her, and
she found herself shrinking. “I don't use you as a *shield* - deep down, I know you think
that. You are *not* the girl that keeps me safe from the scary ladies out there, while I deal
with puberty, my *safety net*, the homely girl that I can always come home to when I
`inevitably' take advantage of my fame and do one-night stands across Britain. Don't
mistake my humility for naivety, Hermione.”

Hermione's eyes were shining as Harry held her hands in his. “I can understand why you'd
think so. A guy with my life - why not take advantage of it? I'd be stupid *not* to do so.
Anyone in my situation would. Hell, maybe in some other life, I would.” He paused. For a moment,
Hermione thought he was truly realizing what he said, reconsidering his words. Then he spoke. “In
fact, I probably would have. But then something happened. Something I could never put a finger to,
until *right now*.”

Hermione fidgeted as Harry stepped closer, her mind blank until he finished his thoughts, having
no clue where he was going with this. “You're not my safety, Hermione. You're *my
only*. The greatest perk of being Harry Potter is that I can proudly say that Hermione Granger
fell for me. Every single thing I said yesterday is true. I was waiting for you. I thought it was
just fourth year, but no, a part of me always was. Because *I love you, Hermione*.”

Harry's chest felt tight as he said the words. He really wasn't feeling any better when
Hermione didn't say anything. He let go of her hands carefully, and pulled her into a loose
hug.

It was only a few seconds, when she responded. At first, he barely noticed when she slowly
wrapped her arms around his torso. Then she pressed firmly into him, her hug turning into her
patented Hermihug, her arms firmly locked around his waist, her hands indenting themselves into his
back.

“You know I love you, Harry,” she whispered to him. “I always will. And I know that what
you're telling me is true. If you truly want me, then you've *always* had me.” She
loosened her grip, and took a good look at him. “But you're wrong. There was never a part of me
that thought I was your safety net. You wouldn't do that to me, you wouldn't do that to
anyone. Not intentionally. Though there were times when I thought your humility was overwhelming.
That one day, you're going to realize that there is so much out there in the world, and it
could've been yours, *easily*.” When Harry was about to protest, she shook her head. “Now
I know that you were always aware. And you *still* chose me in the end. And *I love you*
for that. I truly do.”

Narcissa softly cleared her throat, and the two remembered they weren't alone. “If I may?”
She asked awkwardly, and the two nodded, embarrassed. “I'm not a psychologist, but I think I
see the problem here. Hermione's a secret lesbian, and Harry's a very horny wizard.” As the
two was about to protest, she cut them off. “Hermione, you have Harry, and yet you want him to see
what's out there. You're a smart girl, Hermione. If Harry wants you, you shut up and
*keep* him, making sure that you improve yourself every day with the things that you do to
keep him happy and satisfied. At least, that's what I'd do, if I ever had a man
*worth* fighting for. You're his best friend, and you know how loyal he is - he'd be
perfectly content with whatever you had to offer.

“You clearly like the idea of Harry having a group of girls, as opposed to just you. You said it
yourself - you knew you were never a shield. You aren't afraid of him choosing someone else -
you're afraid of not being involved, or even worse, him not coming back to you.

“And *you*, Harry! There was a *reason* you started this list in the first place!
You're not a social person, right? You don't make friends, you run into them, or they run
into you. I'm sorry, but that's just who you are, and what you're accustomed to. That
list is your conversation starter! Whatever happened with Padma or Katie would *never* have
happened if not for that list, am I right? For all I know, you probably never would have approached
them again.”

She paused. “Honestly, I won't judge you. What you did, was purely unintentional, but truly
worthy of Slytherin. Harry Potter publicly stating who the top ten most beautiful women in his
world are? Anyone can only *guess* what's going to happen next!” She raved, and
Harry's face burned.

Hermione bit her lip. “That does make sense... Harry?” She turned to him with a purely curious
expression.

“When you put it like that...” Harry muttered, and she chuckled.

Narcissa deflated. “I'm sorry, Harry. I know you didn't mean to. But you forget that
you're the boy-who-lived, and a very loveable guy to boot. Women will trip over themselves
trying to *impress* you. With this list, a very pleasurable or painful outcome should
commence. One of those options is unavoidable.”

The couple parted reluctantly, absorbed in their thoughts.

“So what now?” Harry asked. “So far, I have a date with Padma three days from now. I'm
telling her about Hermione before we go to Hogsmeade. I won't get around that. With Katie...
well, something tells me that she will take the news easier than Padma might.”

Narcissa refrained from mentioning Padma's obvious heritage and the Patil family's
history with Harems. Padma would tell him herself if she wanted him to know. Hermione got the queue
from Narcissa, and stayed quiet.

Harry smirked. “I'm aware she's Indian, ladies. Once again - not daft. I just want her
opinion on the matter, not her history's opinion. She could be arranged for someone for all I
know.”

The two blushed at being caught, while Hermione cleared her throat. “Yes, well... onto a
somewhat less embarrassing topic... so Padma stole your first kiss?”

“I don't see how that is any less embarrassing, but yeah.” He eyed her carefully. She
didn't seem too upset. But, he *had* given her the option, once upon a time.

“And...” Hermione hesitated to ask, “Katie stole your first *motor boating*?”

Harry snorted. “Well, I didn't exactly make sputtering sounds when she was crushing my face
with her breasts!”

Narcissa perked up at his words. “Oh? How was it?”

“Wonderful,” he said unabashedly.

“So much for no kissing and telling,” Narcissa chuckled, and Harry smirked devilishly.

“What? Like you're *not* thinking of joining the club?” He said bravely, and she stared
at him seriously, seeing the challenge in his eyes.

“I could call your bluff, Harry,” She whispered, crossing her arms.

Harry's eyes almost drifted to her heaving bosom, being lifted by her arms. “Yes, you
could,” He agreed. “And you will.”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow.

Hermione, for the life of her, couldn't find this confrontation uncomfortable yet. She stood
to the side to watch what was to come next.

“You think I can't call your bluff, Harry?” Narcissa stepped forward, and Harry forced
himself not to gulp. The blonde woman was no Veela, but she had an allure that affected him more
than Fleur at full blast ever could. “I already promised you that I wouldn't... shall we say...
*surrender* to you because of some stupid list.”

“Then that means Cissy's got a crush,” he smirked.

Narcissa laughed as she approached him. “Such a *Slytherin*, you are,” She purred, mere
feet away from him. She stopped. “Come closer, Harry. I won't do all the work. The Immortal
Lady Black won't stoop that low.”

Harry chuckled. “Who said anything about stooping low? I mean, I'll make sure your water
bowl is the fanciest, that's for sure.”

“Oh, such a *rich* sense of humour!” She cried, trying not to break into laughter.
“Innocent little Golden Boy Harry, having the Queen of Slytherin, his most hated mortal enemy's
mother on her hands and knees, drinking out of a water bowl.”

Hermione subconsciously rubbed her thighs together. Harry, having glanced every-so-often to see
how she was doing, raised the bar. “I hope you're not too fond of *clothes* or anything,
Cissy. I assume the *Queen of Slytherin* would not like to dirty them on the floor.”

“I like it when a man plans ahead,” she commented with a wry smile. “So you're going to keep
calling me that, now? Cissy? Like a pet?”

Harry thanked his growth spurt as his five inches above her gave him an advantage. “Well,
you're not housebroken yet. I suppose it's up to Hermione if I can keep you, then.”

Narcissa looked over to Hermione and winked. “So I have to talk to the Alpha, first?” She
swiftly changed directions, striding gracefully to where Hermione stood, stock still.

It took a few microseconds for her to gather her wits. “Alpha?” She wondered. “Your leader?” She
quickly clarified.

Harry nodded. “Your idea,” he pointed out. “And one day... well, you know. I need a Mrs. Potter
to have concubines.”

Hermione couldn't believe her ears. “So we're really doing this?”

Narcissa, not one to state the obvious, turned back, took the last few steps to Harry, tilted
his head down by his chin, and -

**Part IV -** ****http://rihaansfics.com/thelist/ **- Part IV**

**Author's Note:** You know... for a Harem story, this has a *lot* of talking in it.
I may have to change that in the future.

So I'm not going past this point in the story for obvious reasons, this being a Harmony site
and all. Still, I just HAD to share these Harmony scenes with you. The next chapter, I plan on
putting in a bit of pillow-talk. Because, obviously, mindless smut goes from this point on,
including a lovely scene where Harry and Hermione go at it while Cissy watches.

Please, tell me what you think of my overly ambitious story. Did I make you fall for
Narcissa's character, or do you hate her more? This chapter is Narcissa-centric, but once
again, the Harmony scenes were just too much to ignore, and I didn't know how to edit it down
and still make sense.

Please, review. It's all I have left.
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