Disclaimer: I own none of the Harry Potter characters.
A/N: So, I've taken a step away from my original calling of writing Ginny/Harry fics and moved on to a better, slightly more believable ship. Though, in spirit, I know this won't happen in canon EVER, these two make the BEST couple in the world.
Chapter 1: Home
"And so enters our protagonist, the wizarding world's most eligible bachelor, and four time defeater of Voldemort, Harry James Potter!"
"The crowd goes wild!"
"You two are so childish? The biggest prats ever."
"Sure, he can duel, and he can fly, but can he do the unthinkable? MAKE DINNER??"
Ron and Hermione collapsed into a fit of laughter on the kitchen floor.
"I'm serious. Do you two ever get tired of making fun of me and my cooking?" Harry walked towards his room to drop off his Quidditch gear. "Hermione, where's my-"
"On your pillow."
Harry's equipment fell to the floor with a clatter. A few moments later, Harry walked out of his room wearing his favorite jumper and a pair of worn out jeans.
"Thanks."
He threw a smile at Hermione as he turned towards the stove. Ron and Hermione had re-perched themselves on the barstools that sat next to the wrap around island, Ron nursing his usual after work ale and Hermione working her way through her second cup of tea. The trio fit comfortably in the large kitchen of Harry's flat, in which they took all their meals. Ron and Hermione's flats had kitchens, but not big enough to cook much more than a cup of tea and a bowl of cereal.
The three shared the top floor of a building in Diagon Alley, overlooking the main road. Their rooms sat above Ollivander's wand shop, for which they paid Mr. Ollivander a minimal amount of money to stay. They had offered more, but the shopkeeper would hear none of it, as long as they promised to visit him once and a while when business got slow. Harry had taken to helping Mr. Ollivander during the off season, which happened to be when the most students were looking for wands.
The three 22-year-old Hogwarts graduates lived comfortably above the shop, frequenting each other's flats for various activities. They ate in Harry's flat, talked in Hermione's and made a general mess in Ron's playing Exploding Snap and Wizard's Chess when the urge took them.
Harry played Quidditch for the English National Team which took up a lot of his time during the season, but the three always managed to eat together when Harry was in town training or playing in a match. Ron worked with his father at the Ministry of Magic, doing a lot of the research and many times going out to check on a report of a magical muggle object. Hermione worked for the Ministry as well, assisting the Head of the Office of Experimental Charms.
The icebox door squeaked open as Harry shoved his head inside of it.
"Don't you two keep food in here when I'm gone?"
"Of course we do, Harry. We just empty it when you get back so you can't cook anything," Hermione giggled.
Harry threw Hermione a look. "We need to go shopping. Some one get a piece of parchment."
"The only thing we have left is the joke letterhead you made for Ron," Hermione answered, brandishing a piece of parchment. The parchment was topped with scrawl-like green writing, bearing the words, 'Ronald S. Weasley: Manwhore Extraordinaire'. Chuckling, Harry took the paper and summoned a quill.
*~*
"So, it's not that bad is it?" Harry asked, raising his eyes to look at his friends.
"It's would take a person of great skill to mess up spaghetti and canned sauce, Harry."
"Like you for instance, Ron? I seem to remember losing one of my better pans to your spaghetti and canned sauce."
"I had other things going on!"
"Just like you, Ronald, trying to shag while cooking dinner. I hope you learned your lesson!" Hermione scolded, though not very harshly.
Ron shot her a look and continued to eat his dinner.
"So, Harry, how do our chances look for the World Cup? Pity about last year, losing the last game because you were out with that wrist injury?"
Harry winced at the memory and rubbed his wrist. "Yeah. Still hurts when it rains. But our chances look good. I wish we could've gotten Oliver though. Playing for Wales now, he is. Now no one can score on them, but their chasers can't score themselves."
"So you reckon you lot with get in this year?"
"Aye. No contest. Two more games left, and we're facing Wales next. Then whoever wins the Luxembourg/Italy game, and we've beaten both of them before. But, we'll still get to celebrate when we beat them again." Harry raised his beer and clinked it with Ron's.
"You two and your parties."
"You'll come, won't you Hermione? I mean, it'll be the World Cup Semifinals!"
Hermione gave them an appraising look before breaking down into a smile.
"Of course I'll come. Just promise you two won't get too out of hand."
Wide childlike grins plastered themselves across Harry and Ron's faces.
*~*
Hermione called goodnight to Ron as he exited her flat. Harry and Hermione sat on Hermione's couch together, sharing a blanket.
"So, did you miss me?" Harry shot her one of his smiles that made her heart melt.
"Mister Harry Potter, you have such an overlarge head. You were gone for three days."
"So. I think three days is a sufficient amount of time for me to be gone and expect my best friend to miss me."
"You know what I miss? I miss peace and quiet, which I get when you're not around!"
Harry gave her shin a sharp kick, which initiated a game of footsie between the two. Hermione's squealing laughter earned them a loud pound on the wall from Ron next door. She pulled her legs into an Indian style position and gave Harry a hard look. Harry just laughed it off and got up to walk towards her kitchen for another cup of tea.
Hermione watched Harry walk, blown away by the way simple words he said attracted her to him. She loved Harry Potter, and had ever since fifth year, but every time she tried to say something to him, the words seemed to get caught in her throat, unable to come out. She had been brooding over her best friend for almost seven years now, but he had yet to show any interest in her.
True, he never dated other girls for longer than two dates since school ended, and always took her with him when he had Quidditch dinners to go to, sparking another round of rumors about the two having some kind of relationship. But Harry always calmly denied it, explaining time and time again how their relationship was strictly platonic. Still, she enjoyed the envious glares she got from other women when she showed up on his arm and the grin that he always flashed at her when she said something exceptionally witty. He also had this glow about him, always making him seem young and naïve, which he capped off by being hopelessly immature.
"So, what did you think of Jenna?"
"Who?" Hermione snapped out of her thought quickly. She ran through a list of people in her head, Jenna not ringing a bell at all.
"Jenna, the girl I brought over before I left."
Now Hermione remembered. She shook her head. "Not your type."
"I have a type? I haven't a girlfriend long enough to have a type." Harry plopped back down onto the couch, handing Hermione another cup of tea.
"You need someone to take care of you, Harry. Someone who knows you. Like a friend." Hermione cringed slightly after she said that.
"Like Ginny?" Harry threw her a smile.
"No. Not like Ginny. Someone who's not married would definitely be preferential."
"Parvati?" Harry made a face as he said this.
"I think you answered your own question." They sat silent for a minute.
"You?"
Hermione sat bolt straight. "Excuse me?"
"I was kidding Hermione, relax." Hermione relaxed back into the couch.
"So were giving Jenna the definite thumbs down?" Hermione nodded. "Alright. The reason I was asking was because I was trying to figure out if I wanted her to come with me to the gala. But if you give her the thumbs down, I guess I'll just have to ask you to accompany me as always. I'm sure you'll be much better company anyway. You up for it? Saturday night?"
Hermione gave a fake of sigh of discontent. "I guess so. Another night of eating free gourmet food and chatting it up with exceedingly handsome Quidditch players wasn't how I envisioned my Saturday night, but I guess I can deal with it. For you of course."
"Of course," Harry added in an offhanded way.
"And I'll have to go get a new dress. I do hate shopping," Hermione added with a smirk. "Are you going to wear the green shirt with the black tie, or the black shirt with the green tie?"
"Am I that predictable?" Hermione nodded, barely stifling the giggles that were threatening to seep out of the corners of her mouth. "Well, I'll have to decide quick, because we have to go up to Ireland for this one."
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "Ireland?"
"Yeah. You sure you still want to come?"
"Of course!"
A/N: So, I've taken a step away from my original calling of writing Ginny/Harry fics and moved on to a better, slightly more believable ship. Though, in spirit, I know this won't happen in canon EVER, these two make the BEST couple in the world.
Chapter 1: Home
"And so enters our protagonist, the wizarding world's most eligible bachelor, and four time defeater of Voldemort, Harry James Potter!"
"The crowd goes wild!"
"You two are so childish? The biggest prats ever."
"Sure, he can duel, and he can fly, but can he do the unthinkable? MAKE DINNER??"
Ron and Hermione collapsed into a fit of laughter on the kitchen floor.
"I'm serious. Do you two ever get tired of making fun of me and my cooking?" Harry walked towards his room to drop off his Quidditch gear. "Hermione, where's my-"
"On your pillow."
Harry's equipment fell to the floor with a clatter. A few moments later, Harry walked out of his room wearing his favorite jumper and a pair of worn out jeans.
"Thanks."
He threw a smile at Hermione as he turned towards the stove. Ron and Hermione had re-perched themselves on the barstools that sat next to the wrap around island, Ron nursing his usual after work ale and Hermione working her way through her second cup of tea. The trio fit comfortably in the large kitchen of Harry's flat, in which they took all their meals. Ron and Hermione's flats had kitchens, but not big enough to cook much more than a cup of tea and a bowl of cereal.
The three shared the top floor of a building in Diagon Alley, overlooking the main road. Their rooms sat above Ollivander's wand shop, for which they paid Mr. Ollivander a minimal amount of money to stay. They had offered more, but the shopkeeper would hear none of it, as long as they promised to visit him once and a while when business got slow. Harry had taken to helping Mr. Ollivander during the off season, which happened to be when the most students were looking for wands.
The three 22-year-old Hogwarts graduates lived comfortably above the shop, frequenting each other's flats for various activities. They ate in Harry's flat, talked in Hermione's and made a general mess in Ron's playing Exploding Snap and Wizard's Chess when the urge took them.
Harry played Quidditch for the English National Team which took up a lot of his time during the season, but the three always managed to eat together when Harry was in town training or playing in a match. Ron worked with his father at the Ministry of Magic, doing a lot of the research and many times going out to check on a report of a magical muggle object. Hermione worked for the Ministry as well, assisting the Head of the Office of Experimental Charms.
The icebox door squeaked open as Harry shoved his head inside of it.
"Don't you two keep food in here when I'm gone?"
"Of course we do, Harry. We just empty it when you get back so you can't cook anything," Hermione giggled.
Harry threw Hermione a look. "We need to go shopping. Some one get a piece of parchment."
"The only thing we have left is the joke letterhead you made for Ron," Hermione answered, brandishing a piece of parchment. The parchment was topped with scrawl-like green writing, bearing the words, 'Ronald S. Weasley: Manwhore Extraordinaire'. Chuckling, Harry took the paper and summoned a quill.
*~*
"So, it's not that bad is it?" Harry asked, raising his eyes to look at his friends.
"It's would take a person of great skill to mess up spaghetti and canned sauce, Harry."
"Like you for instance, Ron? I seem to remember losing one of my better pans to your spaghetti and canned sauce."
"I had other things going on!"
"Just like you, Ronald, trying to shag while cooking dinner. I hope you learned your lesson!" Hermione scolded, though not very harshly.
Ron shot her a look and continued to eat his dinner.
"So, Harry, how do our chances look for the World Cup? Pity about last year, losing the last game because you were out with that wrist injury?"
Harry winced at the memory and rubbed his wrist. "Yeah. Still hurts when it rains. But our chances look good. I wish we could've gotten Oliver though. Playing for Wales now, he is. Now no one can score on them, but their chasers can't score themselves."
"So you reckon you lot with get in this year?"
"Aye. No contest. Two more games left, and we're facing Wales next. Then whoever wins the Luxembourg/Italy game, and we've beaten both of them before. But, we'll still get to celebrate when we beat them again." Harry raised his beer and clinked it with Ron's.
"You two and your parties."
"You'll come, won't you Hermione? I mean, it'll be the World Cup Semifinals!"
Hermione gave them an appraising look before breaking down into a smile.
"Of course I'll come. Just promise you two won't get too out of hand."
Wide childlike grins plastered themselves across Harry and Ron's faces.
*~*
Hermione called goodnight to Ron as he exited her flat. Harry and Hermione sat on Hermione's couch together, sharing a blanket.
"So, did you miss me?" Harry shot her one of his smiles that made her heart melt.
"Mister Harry Potter, you have such an overlarge head. You were gone for three days."
"So. I think three days is a sufficient amount of time for me to be gone and expect my best friend to miss me."
"You know what I miss? I miss peace and quiet, which I get when you're not around!"
Harry gave her shin a sharp kick, which initiated a game of footsie between the two. Hermione's squealing laughter earned them a loud pound on the wall from Ron next door. She pulled her legs into an Indian style position and gave Harry a hard look. Harry just laughed it off and got up to walk towards her kitchen for another cup of tea.
Hermione watched Harry walk, blown away by the way simple words he said attracted her to him. She loved Harry Potter, and had ever since fifth year, but every time she tried to say something to him, the words seemed to get caught in her throat, unable to come out. She had been brooding over her best friend for almost seven years now, but he had yet to show any interest in her.
True, he never dated other girls for longer than two dates since school ended, and always took her with him when he had Quidditch dinners to go to, sparking another round of rumors about the two having some kind of relationship. But Harry always calmly denied it, explaining time and time again how their relationship was strictly platonic. Still, she enjoyed the envious glares she got from other women when she showed up on his arm and the grin that he always flashed at her when she said something exceptionally witty. He also had this glow about him, always making him seem young and naïve, which he capped off by being hopelessly immature.
"So, what did you think of Jenna?"
"Who?" Hermione snapped out of her thought quickly. She ran through a list of people in her head, Jenna not ringing a bell at all.
"Jenna, the girl I brought over before I left."
Now Hermione remembered. She shook her head. "Not your type."
"I have a type? I haven't a girlfriend long enough to have a type." Harry plopped back down onto the couch, handing Hermione another cup of tea.
"You need someone to take care of you, Harry. Someone who knows you. Like a friend." Hermione cringed slightly after she said that.
"Like Ginny?" Harry threw her a smile.
"No. Not like Ginny. Someone who's not married would definitely be preferential."
"Parvati?" Harry made a face as he said this.
"I think you answered your own question." They sat silent for a minute.
"You?"
Hermione sat bolt straight. "Excuse me?"
"I was kidding Hermione, relax." Hermione relaxed back into the couch.
"So were giving Jenna the definite thumbs down?" Hermione nodded. "Alright. The reason I was asking was because I was trying to figure out if I wanted her to come with me to the gala. But if you give her the thumbs down, I guess I'll just have to ask you to accompany me as always. I'm sure you'll be much better company anyway. You up for it? Saturday night?"
Hermione gave a fake of sigh of discontent. "I guess so. Another night of eating free gourmet food and chatting it up with exceedingly handsome Quidditch players wasn't how I envisioned my Saturday night, but I guess I can deal with it. For you of course."
"Of course," Harry added in an offhanded way.
"And I'll have to go get a new dress. I do hate shopping," Hermione added with a smirk. "Are you going to wear the green shirt with the black tie, or the black shirt with the green tie?"
"Am I that predictable?" Hermione nodded, barely stifling the giggles that were threatening to seep out of the corners of her mouth. "Well, I'll have to decide quick, because we have to go up to Ireland for this one."
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "Ireland?"
"Yeah. You sure you still want to come?"
"Of course!"